#anyway. the song came up and the way i immediately started tearing up should count as a near pavlovian response | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lets-get-kraken-boys · 2 years

Text

Hello Kitty Band-Aids~ // Dabi X Reader

Hi! I know what you're thinking, "LMAO Hello Kitty??? With Dabi??? Noooo, he's too badass for that!" Well, I'll have you know, only badasses roll with Hello Kitty! (≖ˇ3ˇ≖) Genuinely, this story started off with a whole different song as the inspiration, but it slowly shifted to this, and I could not be happier TBH! I CAME UP WITH AND WROTE THIS WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING PIECE IN ONE DAY. HOLY SHIT. I went absolutely bonkers for this. WOW, I guess I cannot contain the horniness I have for Dabi. I cannot believe how I came up with this, but I love how it turned out. I hope you enjoy reading! I am head-over-heels in love with stinky trash man Dabi (ᴖ◡ᴖ❀)💖

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Oneshot [Fluff!] // Originally, this was supposed to be an imagine. Short and sweet. Then it developed into this monstrosity because I can't control myself. Enjoy.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Excessive swearing (I'm talking so much LOL especially during the spoken lines), blood, wounds, threats (mostly made by Dabi and mostly empty), falling in love with a villain because Dabi is TOO HOT, etc.

💖

.☆.・∴.・∵☆:・∵.:・☆.☆.。.:★ :・∵.:☆.。.:・:・∵.☆:*・∵.

💖

"Hello Kitty! Play with us today

We'll laugh and sing on this lovely sunny day

All your friends are waiting for you

Ready to run and play!"

The two of you "lovebirds" met on very strange terms; him running from the police, and you sitting at home, comfy on your couch. It was an otherwise peaceful night in the (Y/N) abode, when out of the god damn blue, this battered and bruised body comes crashing through your window one full moon night. You? Well, you were simply being a normal sane human being and watching a good movie on your night off, when this disaster occurred. The scream you bellowed rivaled that of a Banshee when he flew in, but he didn’t react the same. When this psycho's body hit the floor, he was knocked out cold. Even from all the way across the room on your safe couch, you could see the huge gash marks all across his body, as well as the spreading blood leaking through those marks and from his shirt. Though you didn't know of his affairs only minutes prior, he was most likely exhausted from running for so long with so much blood loss, found your place, and decided to crash (literally) there.

You stood off the couch and crept closer to his unconscious body, contemplating your options. You knew who he was. Who didn’t? He’d been all over the news with the recent events regarding his crimes against that pro-hero training high school, UA. His name didn’t immediately come to mind in the stress of the situation, but it didn’t matter. He was a villain. He was a bad man. You should kick him to the curb, or maybe straight to the police, and make sure he can never wreck your peaceful Saturday night ever again.

But…

He looked…awful. That's to say the least.

Blood dripped from his fresh wounds, scratches and gashes littered his flesh, staples that previously held his marred skin together had now popped out, making his skin stretch and droop. His hands were singed with burn marks, whether it was from his pursuers or from his own quirk, you weren't sure. Not to mention all the cuts and glass suck in his skin from the window he just burst through. And his face. His brows were scrunched up together even while he was asleep, he was in so much pain that he was unconsciously showing it. His mouth was pulled into a frown. Half-soft, half-burnt lips bruised and red with a sizable tear on his upper lip. And…well…damn, he has a strong jaw. Could cut metal with that thing.

WAIT, WHAT?! No no no no nooooo! Do not think that! He's not hot. He's not cute. You do not find a villain sexy. Shut up, brain.

Anyways, you wrestle with the idea for another minute until you glance at his blood seeping onto the floor and curse. Fuck! You're only renting this apartment, and you cannot afford to pay for the replacement of the hardwood flooring! Not in this god damn economy with your shitty landlord. So, for certainly no other reason than to keep his inky blood from soaking into the wood flooring (and definitely not because you felt a little bad for how bad of shape he was in, nor because he was just the slightest bit cute), you dragged his limp body into your bathroom to fix him up.

Now, you're no doctor, but you know some of the basics of healing people. You've slapped on your fair share of band-aids in your day. How much harder can sewing up lesions in skin be! Plus, YouTube is readily available!

Turns out, they're much harder to do properly than you gave credit for.

After a half hour or so, he was nearly put back together. Most of the blood he was profusely spewing earlier you'd either stopped from coming out or it had coagulated on its own. His minor scratches you covered up with gauze, though, you soon ran out and had to use the backup Hello Kitty band-aids to cover the rest. What? Hello Kitty is adorable! Your eight-year-old niece loves her, and it makes you smile at the fond memories they bring. One time about two years ago, she and her guardian came over to hang out for the day. She was being a cute kid and showing off to her "favorite adult" (a label you bragged, and still brag, about to her peeved guardian all the time) all the tricks she's learned on her scooter. She was doing great! Until she wasn't. She fumbled one of the moves and promptly fell to the ground, scraping her knee in the process. She wailed and cried, until you busted out one of the cute Hello Kitty band-aids, and made her day all better again! You'll never forget her beautiful, wide, gap-filled smile as she reiterated that you were her favorite person in the whole world.

Being reeled back to the present, you focused on the task at hand. The larger wounds on his body you tried your best to stitch together, and though they were a little wonky and crooked, you'd say you did a fine job. You cleaned all of his wounds with alcohol and other medicinal items to the best of your ability. Now, it was finally time to clean him up.

You'd previously hung up his coat after you'd settled him in the bathroom. You took the bloody shirt you'd stripped off him earlier to access the wounds on his chest (and you totally did not admire his chest or abs while you'd fixed up his body) and yours that was now covered in his blood, and threw them in the washer. You shimmed into a different clean shirt, and skated back to the bathroom. Running a washcloth under warm water, you bent down to clean his crusty face. Wiping down his face, you cleaned the soot and dirt off of him. You minded the piercings, staples, and burnt flesh of the lower half of his face and eyes as you went along. You stopped to gently dab his busted lip. You leaned back after a minute admiring your work, looking for any other specs of dirt or debris, and decided he was all set. You wanted to leave him there to rest, both because you didn't want to move him too much too soon and because he was heavy as shit, even though he was as thin as a toothpick. But as you thought about it more, you realized leaving a highly dangerous villain unsupervised in a place he doesn't know where he could easily get the upper hand and attack you wasn't the best decision. So, reluctantly, you dragged him back to the living room and plopped his deadweight body down onto your couch.

Looking at the mess he made to your window and to the floor when he busted his way in, you sighed. Guess there's still more work to be done.

💖

.☆.・∴.・∵☆:・∵.:・☆.☆.。.:★ :・∵.:☆.。.:・:・∵.☆:*・∵.

💖

Dabi blearily awoke to the sounds of metal gentle clanking together, and the smell of something absolutely delicious invading his senses. Maybe it was just because he was famished because, if he remembers correctly, the League's cooking never smelled quite as good as whatever was wafting in the air. Wait, correction, they've never cooked shit since he's been a part of the group. Hell, he doesn't think any of them actually know how to cook without burning the place to the ground (himself included).

So, who the hell- where the hell- ugh, fuck it. His brain's too scattered to form questions.

He groaned as he sat up to investigate. His head felt like shit. His body felt like shit. He couldn't focus. Fuck, maybe he got a concussion. Just add it to the list of his issues. He swears when he finds those god damn heroes and police, he's gonna tear them apart limb by-

"Oh, look at that, Sleeping Beauty's awake. 'Bout time."

He nearly jumps out of his stapled skin at the gentle voice coming from across the room. With wide eyes and palms raised to blast scorching fire at any moment, he looks at you. You're just as wide eyed as he is, staring him down from what seemed to be your kitchen. So, the divine smell was coming from your cooking.

He looked you up and down, deeming you not a threat by the lack of any weapon or notable powerful quirk aimed at him. You didn't seem to be a cop either. He broke eye contact with you to look around. Painted walls, nice flooring, pictures and paintings scattered around the place, good view of the city outside. He's in your house.

Interesting. That answers one of his questions; where he is.

Now to find out who the fuck are you, and how stupid you are to have not turned him over to the authorities.

He looks back at you, not saying a word as he stares into your eyes. You fidget under his gaze. Okay, skittish. Nervous. Probably not a hero, nor are you probably gonna put up a big fight against him.

"Um...hi? The name’s (Y/N)…,” you mumble, subtly urging him to return the favor of giving a name. Though, the asshole doesn't respond, only continuing to stare with a blank expression.

"Okaaaay...well, nice meeting you too. Thanks for bursting through my window earlier." you roll your eyes, but get back to focusing on the meal you were cooking. Ah. He forgot about that. He looked towards the window that he obviously smashed through, seeing as it was the only broken one of the group. He glanced at the majorly clean floor directly below it, aside from the large red stain left of the ground. Whoops. Well, that's not his problem.

His eyes drifted further, back to his body. He realized he was laying on something plush, bouncy. Your couch. It's...nice. Nice to feel like he got a good rest. As good of rest as you could get with your body fucked up and half dead even before the chase from earlier. Much nicer than the ratty bed at the hideout. He noticed then the blanket bunched up on his lap. Due to the way it was clumped, it must have been lying up on his chest before he sat up. You tucked him in with it while he was unconscious. Fuzzy, soft. Huh.

Finally, he looked at his body. Looking past the old burns, it was covered in gauze and stitches. Nothing looked professional, everything was sloppily wrapped and jaggedly sewn. He imagined he looked like a kindergartener's art project with the way he was crappily put together. Nonetheless, something pink and glittery caught his eye.

A band-aid. Wait, no. A whole arsenal of band-aids. All themed in...

Hello Kitty.

There were currently more Hello Kitty band-aids on his body than whatever was left of his normal skin.

He looked back at you with a dead-pan expression.

"Really? Hello Kitty???" were the first words he spoke.

"Ah, so he can speak," you smiled to yourself, "And, yes. Hello Kitty. Got a problem with her?"

"Nah," he scoffed, twisting his arms around to see more and more of the cheerful cat, "she just doesn't really fit my style, 'is all."

"Hm, that's good. 'Cause I was gonna throw hands if you disrespected her." you joked, stirring whatever you were cooking in the pot. He huffed out a tiny laugh at your words.

While he sat calmly on the couch as if he owned this whole goddamn apartment complex, inspecting himself, you were not so calm on the other hand. HOLY SHIT. A VILLAIN IS CURRENTLY IN YOUR HOUSE AND IS MAKING SMALL TALK WITH YOU! While you were still quaking in your fuzzy night slippers, you tried to look on the bright side. At least he didn't immediately burn you to a pile of ash when he woke up like you half expected him to do.

"There's some painkillers on the nightstand next to you. I'd advise you to take them if you want to relieve the pain from your wounds a little bit. Or I think I have some antibiotic ointment somewhere around here that you can rub on them, if you'd prefer." you called to him as you spun around the stove and oven. He saw a few of the pills sitting patiently there, as well as the glass of water you'd left for him. Hm. What a dutiful nurse. He took the pills, tossed them back into his mouth, grabbed the water, and swigged it.

It was then he realized that he was both shirtless and coatless.

He looked back at the nightstand and noticed that his shirt, now stunningly clean with not a splotch of blood to be found, was folded neat and proper right there. As if it was waiting for him. Dabi looked around for his jacket, seeing it hanging up on the coat rack by your front door. A devious remark formed on his tongue as a wicked grin settled on his stupidly handsome face.

"Wow, sweetheart~," he began, slowly standing up so as to not open any of the stitching you'd so carefully given him, "using a poor, helpless man down on his luck in his sleep is really beneath you. I was starting to think you were a better person than that~," he teased, watching your eyes grow wide and your mouth open and close like a gasping fish, trying to find words that escaped you. Cute.

"Oh- shut up, you," you felt an embarrassed heat rise to your face even though the words that swiftly shot out of your mouth reeked of confidence, "I-I...I only took off your clothes to reach your injuries!"

"Uh-huh, suuuuure~," he prodded further, sliding on his coat, and moving back to the couch to rest, "and I wasn't bleeding out on your floor a bit ago." You huffed in defeat, not wanting to battle him on a rumor you knew he knew wasn't true.

"Speaking of which," he grunted as he sat down, "how long's it been since I oh-so gracefully entered your home?"

"Only a few hours. Three, or so." you answered. His response was simply a groan of acknowledgement. The conversation died for a minute, until you continued.

"Sorry I don't have any staples to replace the ones you lost. If I had some, I would have tried to construct you back together, Frankenstein's Monster. Though, I'd doubt you'd want me to put them in for you anyways." you piped up.

He side-eyed you and said in a monotone voice, "Oh, I get it. Ha ha. Very funny. Haven't heard that one before," he sassed. He continued, this time with a tone of sincerity, "S fine. I lose these fuckers all the time. Got more back at my place," he ended it there. You chose to follow his lead. Silence filled the room yet again, nothing but the clanking of the pots and pans filling the thick air.

In those few minutes you had to think, you came to a conclusion. As charming of company as he is, he can't stay here. It's too risky. Too risky for your safety, too risky for the other tenants, and too risky for the building. If someone other than you saw him flouncing around your apartment like he comes over every other day, things would not end well for either of you. You're a good person, and you don't want society to deem you a bad one just because you helped someone who was shunned by the masses. It's not right, but sadly, it's the way that it is.

"You eat. Then, you're gone." you decided to finally cut the stale tension. You held your breath, waiting for his response.

"Damn, kicking me out so soon? And here I thought we were having a good heart-to-heart," he shifted his body on the couch to face you, donning a crooked smirk on his face. Oh. A smirk. A smirk is better than anger, or, even worse, indifference. At least you know you're entertaining the criminal rather than pissing him off.

"Hey, you can't blame me," you turned to face him with your arms crossed, "I don't want the cops hanging around here. Who knows what would happen if someone figured out I helped and housed a...less than savory individual." You chose to mutter that last part to yourself under your breath. You might think he's okay so far, but many others in higher positions of power than yourself would disagree.

"So, you know." He stood from the couch. It startled you; the way he could switch his emotions from 0-100 in milliseconds. One minute ago, you two were laughing about a stupid printed band-aid, and now you're scared you pushed too many buttons too quickly.

Your hands shook, and you dropped the cooking utensil in your hand, "K...Know what?" He snaked across the room with no hesitation or issue, like the spacious distance he covered so quickly was nothing to him. You wanted to not back down, to not show any fear like him, but it was impossible with this large of a threat coming so close to you. You inched back as he breached the kitchen.

At that moment when he stood like an impenetrable wall directly in front of you, when he lowered his face to look directly in your eyes, when his own lips were only a few inches from your trembling ones; his name finally came to mind

Dabi.

"You know I'm a villain...," Dabi finally whispered. His breath was laced with the overwhelming scent of cigarette smoke and some kind of strong whiskey. A combo that wasn't exactly pleasant like fresh roses, but who needs roses when it shook you down to your core (scared horny). BUT GOD DAMMIT, THAT SHOULDN'T MATTER RIGHT NOW!!! Why is it that even when you're stuck in this very vulnerable position with this highly dangerous criminal, you can't get your mind out of the filthy gutter?!?!?!

"Y...Yes?" you wanted your words to be strong and unwavering, impress Dabi with your bravery, but they were meek and hooked up at the end to form a question more than anything.

"So," he suddenly wrapped his powerful arm around your waist and walked you back to the nearest wall. You yelped at the intrusion of your space, and again when his other arm caged you into the space as he leaned his hand against the wall, "why?"

"Why what?!" you squeak out to him, lightly pushing your hands against his hard chest in an extremely weak effort to get him to back off. Please move away, powerful and sexy man, before you melted into a puddle of goo and made a fool of yourself.

"Why would a sweet, innocent civilian help the big, bad villain?" he finished. You were stumped at his question as you too had been debating it in your head for the last few hours. Why? Why did you heal him? Why did you give him shelter? Why did you protect his whereabouts from the police and heroes? Why were you cooking him food!? WHY?!

You took a deep breath, shook off whatever nerves you could as fast as you could, and looked him dead in the eye, "I saved you because I saw not a villain, not a wanted man, but a person bleeding out on my floor. A person in need of help. If I didn't help you, how could I call myself a decent person after idly standing by as someone dies on my watch?"

Saved. That word caught Dabi's eye. You think you didn't just help him, rather, you saved his life.

Hm.

Oh, this could be fun~!

After letting your words have a chance to hang in the air for a moment, Dabi's face curled up into a sinister grin. Which made yours instantly fall. Shit. You fucked up. He didn't like your answer. You're screwed. Goodbye, world. Goodbye, Hello Kitty. It was nice to see your happy face before burning to death.

"I see, little hero~," he teased, leaning back and taking a step away from you. He was still cornering you, but he'd at least given you some space to breathe properly. You took a few more shaky breaths to calm your nerves, not fully dropping your guard in case he was simply torturing his prey before enacting the kill.

"How brave of you to care for the dastardly villain. Heh." Dabi chuckled to himself. He turned around, and sauntered off to the living room. You didn't pursue him, you couldn't even if you wanted to with how similar to Jell-O your legs were as they had begun to wobble. As to not fall flat onto your face, you slid down the wall, and planted your butt onto the ground. Dabi fixed his coat, and stalked off to the broken window.

As he bent his leg up and took one step out of the window, he looked back at you. He looked ethereal, practically glowing in the moon's beams that shined through the city. His turquoise eyes bore into your soul, as if marking it with their own special burn as a parting gift. You couldn't forget those eyes, not after seeing the hope in them. How extravagantly his emotions swirled in them.

He spoke in a rumbling voice, "Not gonna say goodbye because this isn't one. You're something. Definitely something. I like things that catch my eye. And you...you certainly have. But be wary of who you expend that kind heart of yours to. I went easy on you this time, but there are plenty of people in my line of work who aren't willing to give civilians like you a chance. Can't have my newest interest be clipped so soon~," he smirked at you.

"See you later, little hero," Dabi called.

Before he could climb fully out of the window and off to who the hell knows where, you found your words and snarkily yelled, "You're welcome anytime, Dabi! Though, maybe next time don't come barreling in and breaking stuff. The front door works just fine. If you hurt yourself, I'll just have to stick more cute band-aids on you!"

He paused at the name drop, looking back at you with shock. But the shock quickly faded as a grin took its place. He let out a genuine laugh this time. One that made your heart flutter.

"I'll think about it, (Y/N)~," he winked. And with that, he turned around and sped off on the fire escape.

You watched the window, heart still jumping in your throat at his words. You eventually let out a small sigh, "Bonding with a villain over Hello Kitty band-aids...what exactly has my life come to?" You continued to mindlessly stare at where the dashing man had so quickly entered and left your life. Slowly, your mind became less foggy, and you only now noticed a pile of something on the ground. It lay near the spot on the couch where Dabi sat not long ago. Curious, you walked over to it. Bending your knees, you grab one of the items, and throw your head back in frustration.

A small pile of Hello Kitty band-aids had been dumped unceremoniously on the rug.

You growled, "Pussy. How wasteful! I put them on so carefully too...oh, well, I guess." you scooped up the pile and waltzed over to the trash can in your kitchen.

"Sorry, Hello Kitty," you apologized to the inanimate objects as you threw them in the trash, "he's just not used to the 'bad bitch' lifestyle."

You looked over at the abandoned food on the stove. Black curling smoke was rising from all of the pots and from the stove, an image that made your vocabulary lit up with curses, "GOD DAMN FUCKING HELL!!!!! DABI, YOU SLEEZY FUCK!!! YOU MADE ME BURN MY FUCKING FOOD!"

💖

.☆.・∴.・∵☆:・∵.:・☆.☆.。.:★ :・∵.:☆.。.:・:・∵.☆:*・∵.

💖

A few floors above your apartment, Dabi sat idly on the rooftop. He gazed wordlessly upon the colorful city, smoking a cigarette placed between two of his fingers. Though, the stick was harder to grip than normal due to a lone Hello Kitty band-aid clinging to his pointer finger. Noticing the cutesy wrapping, he scoffed.

Snuffing out the cigarette, Dabi brought his finger closer and twisted it around, watching it glitter in the moonlight. He moved to rip it off, wanting for it to fall the same fate as the countless others he'd removed in your apartment, but something stopped him. He brushed his opposite hand's thumb against the protective paper as if he was mesmerized. It made him think of your touch, your laugh, your smile. How you had so much care to give to the world that you would spend your time saving a ruthless bum like him from Death's doorstep. You're too good for this lousy, undeserving world.

He thinks back to the ideology of Stain, the blueprint he follows so closely in his methods of destruction. In his master's very own description, your traits all point to that of a true hero. One of the rare few this world truly has left. Someone who does things not just for their own benefit, not for money, not for fame, but because they genuinely want to help others. They genuinely want to help this world thrive. Too bad you were a nobody civilian. And too bad he was a...

"Tch," he shook his head at his own disgustingly mushy thought. Sappy bullshit. Damn, what the hell had you done to him? Maybe that was your quirk. Effect his emotions and shit like that. However you managed to dig those up out of their graves, he'll never know. But even he has to admit, it felt...sorta...good to be cared for.

"Guess the nickname fits you after all, little hero~," he mumbled to himself and the moon.

He knows he shouldn’t be so weak for a nobody who he met completely by accident only a few hours ago. He’s got goals, goals that mean more than risking it all for some dumbass who saved his skin once. But he forgot what real kindness felt like after living so long in a world of darkness and constant backstabbing chaos. He missed those conversations. He missed the days in the sun. He missed being treated like a person and not like a weapon or a maniac. He missed...ugh, whatever.

Whenever the soonest date he can see you again comes, he'll be there.

"Hello hello kitty! Hello dear friend

Your smile's pretty like a flower that's in bloom

Love is in your heart and things are happy too

Hello hello kitty! Play with us today!"

💖

.☆.・∴.・∵☆:・∵.:・☆.☆.。.:★ :・∵.:☆.。.:・:・∵.☆:*・∵.

💖

Well, damn. (ﾟ Дﾟ ;) This ended up much longer than I intended it to be! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ∩´﹏`∩ﾟ)ﾟ｡ BUT OH WELL, I GUESS! Hope you enjoyed my filthy brain ideas!

Song: "Hello Kitty and Friends - Intro Theme" // Lyrics found on: Theme Song

{I did not make Hello Kitty, nor do I own her. I did not make this song, nor do I take credit for it. These items listed belong to the original creators.}

127 notes · View notes

baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

fool for you

bucky just wants to be with you forever

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u are all well <33 pls enjoy this v fluffy one shot inspired by own post :’ ) let me know what u all think !!

You were tired, your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to pay attention to the tv. Your head falling to the side as you drifted off, eyes shooting open when you realized you were falling asleep. You got up quickly, splashing your face with water and settling back on the couch, rubbing your eyes and focusing on the tv again.

1:57 a.m.

You checked your phone in hopes of a “five minutes away :)” text from bucky, but there was none. You yawned again and changed the channel, flipping through some channels to try to wake you up before deciding to just switch to netflix instead.

You smiled as your favorite show played, nuzzling into the blanket bucky had given you and focusing on the show. The sound of keys rattling woke you up, you hadn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.

“shit” bucky whispered as the door slammed into the wall. “sorry” bucky spoke, apologizing to the wall before dragging his suitcase as quietly as he could. He kicked off his boots and his eyes landed on you asleep on the couch.

“buck?” you mumbled, willing your eyes open. Your vision was fuzzy and you could hear the tv still playing, you moved a little, forgetting you were on the couch and slipped off the edge. You couldn’t even process that you had fallen by the time bucky caught you in his arms, smiling at you.

“hi doll” bucky smiled at you, kissing your forehead gently and easily lifting you in his arm. He turned the tv off and carried you into your shared room, gently placing you on the bed.

“what time ‘s it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and yawning, finally waking up.

“almost 3” he smiled at you softly, rummaging through his drawer and taking out a change of clothes. You nodded as he pulled out a black t shirt and some boxers, walking towards you and kissing your temple.

“I’m gonna shower doll, you can go to sleep” he assured you and you nodded, knowing full well you’d end up waiting up for him anyway.

“don’t slip” you smiled and he rolled his eyes, waving you off with a small smile on his face.

“it was one time!” He groaned before closing the door to the restroom.

You smiled to yourself as you heard the shower turn on, rolling over to your side and closing your eyes. The sleep that had been taking over you earlier was nowhere to be found. You kicked the covers off you and groaned, frowning as you stared at the ceiling. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and scrolled through Twitter for a while, waiting for bucky to finish showering so you could cuddle up to him and fall asleep.

You could feel yourself growing hungry, glancing at the time on your phone you frowned a bit, it was already 3:07 am. you drank some water and tried to fall back asleep, cuddling into your pillow and letting out a soft sigh when you finally got comfortable. Right as you were finally going to sleep bucky opened the restroom door, the sound making your eyes shoot open and heart race.

“did I wake you?” bucky whispered, a frown on his face as he heard your heart rate quicker than usual. You shook your head with a small smile. He knew you were lying but he didn't say anything, he just threw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and settled next to you under the covers. He threw his right arm around you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head.

“g’night doll” he mumbled and closed his eyes, already falling asleep from how exhausted he was.

“goodnight buck” you replied softly, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. It was silent, with only the sounds of the city flowing through the Brooklyn apartment.

Then your stomach growled, causing bucky to looked at you with wide eyes and you stifled a giggle. You mumbled a ‘sorry’ before closing your eyes again, hoping it wouldn't keep growling.

You were wrong. Your stomach was relentless, and finally you got up, slipping from Bucky grasp and scurrying into the kitchen to find something to eat. Bucky felt your absence almost immediately, he opened his eyes and frowned, getting up and making his way into the kitchen.

“didnt mean to wake you angel” you apologized as he walked towards you. He shook his head and wrapping his arms around you, letting his chin rest onto of your head. His eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into him, your arms snaking around his waist and leaning your head against his chest. The sound of the microwave made you pull away from him, grabbing the hot cup of Mac and cheese and setting it on the dining table, Bucky soon following you and sitting next to you.

“now im hungry” he frowned and you laughed, giving him some of your Mac and cheese which he gratefully ate. Within minutes the small bowl of Mac and cheese was empty, the two of you still hungry. You stared at bucky, a small smile creeping onto both of your faces. You were both thinking the same thing.

“no we shouldn't” you shook your head and bucky agreed.

“yeah no its almost 4 we should get to bed” he replied, you both got up, making eye contact before bursting into a fit of giggles and smiles, heading straight towards the kitchen and definitely not bed. You pulled your phone out and put on some music.

“you were thinking about French toast right?” you asked and bucky smiled, already opening the fridge for the ingredients, you grinned and you opened the pantry to get the other things you needed. You both sang along to the music softly, swaying to the beat.

As bucky made the mix you grabbed the bread and two plates, heating up the pan and putting some butter on it, letting it melt. You moved easily in the kitchen with bucky, ever since you had moved in together everything just seemed to work for you guys.

As you dipped the bread into the batter before putting it in the pan. Turning to bucky and using the spatula as a microphone, singing along to some 40s song you had added for bucky. You smiled as he took the spatula from your hand, setting it down and grabbing your hands, dancing along to the song.

Bucky had the brightest smile on his face as you followed his lead, letting him twirl you around as the song played. You looked up at him as he danced with you, meeting his light blue eyes. Your eyes met and bucky couldn't stop himself.

“I can't wait any longer oh my god” he rushed out, letting go of you and rushing back into the bedroom, leaving you along in the kitchen.

You frowned, did you do something wrong? You focused back on the French toast, flipping the slice so it wouldn't burn before placing it on Buckys plate. You frowned as you looked for the powdered sugar. Realizing you hadn't taken it out you turned around to get it, your back to the bedroom door. As you searched for it your mind raced, was he breaking up with you? Was he just really tired?

Meanwhile Bucky was rummaging through all his drawers, wondering where the hell he put the ring he picked out with Steve seven months ago. His heart was racing as he heard you cooking the french toast, confused as to why he left you. Finally he found the black velvet box in the back of his sock drawer, smiling as he ran back out to meet you in the kitchen.

Bucky saw you facing the drawer, so he wasted no time sneaking up behind you and getting down on one knee silently, opening the small box to reveal the ring.

You finally found the powdered sugar, opening it and turning around. You turned quickly, eyes immediately landing on bucky, right in front of you.

On one knee. With a ring.

You dropped the powdered sugar, causing it to land all over you, bucky and the ring. Your hands flew to your mouth as he smiled at you brightly.

“are you joking? this is a joke right?” you questioned and bucky shook his head, still on one knee despite having powdered sugar all over his shirt.

“y/n I love you so much, I wanna spend forever with you. Everything feels so right with you I just- its like we’re just meant to be, I can't imagine a life without you. I wanna make you happy, I wanna travel the world with you, I wanna dance in the kitchen at 3 am and make French toast at ungodly hours with you for the rest of my life” he rambled, you felt your ears burning as he continued, your mind still processing that he was actually proposing.

“-I love how competitive you are and how excited you get over anything and everything, I just love you so much-” he cut himself off when he looked at you for the first time since he started rambling, smiling softly up at you as you looked at him, fondness in your eyes and a tear rolling down your cheek.

“will you marry me?” he spoke, breathless.

Never in your life have you nodded so quickly.

“yes, of course yes” you whispered and bucky smiled, jumping to his feet as you cupped his face, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss. You pulled away with a sniffle, smiling as he took your hand and slid the ring on, he blushed at the sight of it.

You looked at each other with a smile, kissing once more before you realizing the french toast was cold by now. You pulled away quickly, grabbing the powdered sugar bag from the floor and sprinkling some lightly on your plates.

“sorry about all that” you laughed, motioning to the powdered sugar all over the two of you and the floor. Bucky just grinned, waving it off as the two of you ate the French toast, a smile never leaving either of your faces. Both pf you giggling as the sun came up and birds began to sing.

Not long after you finished Bucky cleaned up your mess, you changed into one of his t shirts and slipped into bed, a smile on your face as he walked into the room, taking his shirt off and slipping out of his sweats before moving into bed next to you.

You wasted no time as he laid on his back, moving his arm so you could rest your head on his chest. He cradled you gently as you got comfortable, kissing the top of your head once you settled in.

“love you so much angel, can't wait until we get to spend forever together” you mumbled with a smile on your face, already drifting off to sleep. Bucky smiled at your words, letting his fingers run through your hair.

“and I love you more than yesterday” he whispered, “but less than tomorrow.”

Bucky meant his words. He meant them with everything he was. He fell in love with you everyday. He always found himself falling deeper and deeper, but he never complained. Now could fall in love with you for the rest of his life.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic

1K notes · View notes

binnieboyswhore · 3 years

Text

SKZ AS...

Stray Kids as receiving a blowjob Pairing: Skz x Reader Genre: smut Word count: 1,994 Warnings: Oral (m receiving) and face fucking, if there’s anything else i need to add please let me know! Authors note: This is kinda garbage but also i love it so much. I also just love seungmins so much cause i often think about it too much lol anyways further a do here it is. (also if you can write in korean and know korean please DM me i’m trying to get a skz tattoo but do not trust google translate in the slightest)

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

Chan:

Getting in studio blowjobs was one of Chan's favorite things. He’d always be the one to ask, with his puppy dog eyes he’d complain how horny he is and how if you hadn’t worn such a short skirt he wouldn’t feel this way. He’d complain how well, technically TECHNICALLY you made him this horny as you are the root of this problem you should be the one to take care of it. Eventually you give in and get on your knees for him constantly playing the big doe eye angle with his dick in your mouth making him lose his mind. You watch as he squirms trying to continue mixing songs with one hand while holding onto the chairs armrest with his other. He’s an absolute slut when you focus on the head of his cock so that he has enough time to tell you and release on your face, his favorite place, with your tongue sticking out. He’d also be an angel and clean your face off with a tissue while kissing you and mumbling what a good girl you were.

Minho:

You and Minho always had a voyeuristic relationship never shying away from a bit of public sex but when you reached your hands down into his pants in front of his hyung at dinner and continued to tease him he knew he had to put you in your place. He’d give you a deadly side glare that only fed into the pumping of your hand around him. He would excuse himself from the table for a second and as he was just out of sight your phone would go off and you’d scurry off after him making a quick excuse for the table. As soon as you make it behind the door he has you on your knees slipping his throbbing cock between your lips. Rutting his hips into your face not caring about the speed. Essentially he’s face fucking you in the middle of the mens restroom and neither of you could care less. He watches as your mascara runs down your face cooing at how gorgeous you looked with your mouth stuffed full of him. He grips your hair as he cums down your throat then tells you to meet him at the car after you clean your face and goes to tell the boys you felt sick. You were in for a long night of being put in your place.

Changbin:

Changbin would come home in a rage, something about someone not listening to him during rehearsals or something. He’d just be fuming with no way to let it out so he just rants and rants to with clench fists. You have him sit on the couch as he keeps going on and on while you get on your knees between his legs, shaking your head and agreeing with his anger. You take out his member and slowly start to pump him and his ranting slows down and his moans become more frequent. He slides his hand into your hair so he has some control over your movements. You slide him into your mouth gagging as he moves his hips a bit. He looks down apologetically and you just take him further in your mouth, you allow him to take control using your head and his hips to get himself off. He watches as spit falls out of the sides of your mouth and your tears leaving mascara tracks down your cheeks. Seeing how wrecked you are with his cock in your mouth he can’t help but let himself release down your throat. When he removes himself he pulls you onto his lap whipping away your drool and tears very lightly before giving you a sweet kiss as a thank you.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin has been busy working on some lyrics or some new dance moves for stray kids and you couldn’t care less. The more attention he gave to his work meant less attention for you and you well you were feeling extra needy since being abandoned by your boyfriend. You stand behind his chair, your arms wrapped around his shoulders watching him work as you kissed his neck and nibbled at his ear. He hadn’t said anything about it while occasionally leaving little kisses on your arms. You were growing irritated at how he was just blatantly ignoring your neediness. You whisper little things in his ear and he just tells you later and that he’s busy right now. You stand behind him weighing your options. You can either wait and see if he follows through or you can take control here and seeing as he needs a break anyways you choose the latter. You make camp between his legs and put your head in front of his desk so that he couldn’t not see you. He smiles down at you with all the love in his heart and you explain how he needs a break anyways. He finally leans back and let’s you do your thing as he holds on to the armrest of his chair constantly cooing how beautiful you look when you take him like that. He begins to get whiny when he’s about to come so you take your mouth off his full length paying attention to just the tips and he moves your hands away so he can pump himself and finally release all over your chest. He’d watch as you take your fingers swiping up his release and slowly licking it off, his eyes grow darker and as he shuts his laptop you scurry off to the bedroom with him not too far behind you excited to finally have your Hyunjin back.

Han:

An empty movie theater would be the perfect place for a Jisung blowjob. It wouldn’t take much to convince him either, you’d just have to say well since no one is here and then the sound of his zipper meets your ears. You grin from ear to ear as you reach your hand over the shared arm rest, Jisung letting out quite whimpers. When he was hard enough you bent over the armrest and started moving your head at a rather fast pace as you started to grow nervous of getting caught. You added your hand to jerk off what part of his shaft wouldn’t fit in your mouth and soon he was pulling at your hair and whispering that he was about to come. As he releases in your mouth he bends over his chest hitting the back of your head causing him to go further in your throat and making you gag. Your throat tightens around his already sensitive member causing him to let out a bit louder whine and that’s when someone from the front room sat up and looked back to try to figure out what was happening. Jisung and you look at each other in shock and embarrassment as you both thought the place was completely empty

Felix:

You guys would be backstage at some show waiting for stray kids turn to go on stage and poor Felix, the worst part for Felix wasn’t the performance, it was the waiting, the anticipation. He would constantly get in his own head with the what if’s and shut down and get real quiet. You quickly noticed this process happening and grabbed his hand trying to help calm his nerves but when that didn’t work you looked down at your watch noticing you had enough time. You kissed below his ear pulling him out of his head space for a second then whispered to meet you in the bathroom. He walks in with a confused look as you turn to lock the door really fast, you get on your knees hooking your fingers into his waistband and explaining that you’d help him relax. He’d agree almost immediately, i mean he’d get out of his hand and have your pretty lips around him? Win win. He’d mostly stand there holding his shirt up so it won’t get in your way as you held onto the back of his thighs using it as leverage to force your mouth down his length, the eye contact between you two never wavering. He fed off the intense eye contact only breaking for seconds at a time to watch as you took his length so well, only gagging when he used his hips. You fed off his tiny moans and how he tried so hard to keep his eyes open to stare you down. He’d come in your mouth just because you guys did have to go back out but in his head he came all over your breasts. By the time he got back to the boys he had to go on stage and he was out of his own head all thanks to you and that magical mouth.

Seungmin:

I can see Minnie saying yes to a blowjob while he’s driving like homeboy thinks it’s so hot to do things you’re not supposed to do. Like you guys would be stuck in standstill traffic and with nothing else to do and you’d just have to ask him once and he’d start unbuttoning his pants. He’d gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail and let you do your thing. Your thing including everything from licking him up the bottom of his shaft to suck your cheeks in when you got near the head of his cock. He’d try to control you in little ways like holding your head still periodically, scared you might try to pull something while he moves the car little by little through traffic. He’d let little moans and whimpers slip past his lips trying his hardest to not make it completely obvious to those around him what was happening inside his small car. He’d eventually come down your throat as he hits the brake a little too hard, shoving himself down your throat and you can’t help but moan at the new depth. He’d let a rather loud strained moan out as he holds your hair in his grip. He’d also beg for a kiss from you wanting to taste himself off your mouth and yes it would be the hottest thing you’ve ever done.

IN:

Jeongin loved nothing more than to finally get out of the dorms and stay the night at your apartment, getting away from the boys and their constant babying towards him to seeing you and kissing you whenever he wanted. After staying up all night catching up on what the other has been doing all week you both passed out without even an I love you in exchange. When you woke up, your body curled into Jeongin like a perfect puzzle piece. That was until you felt him poking your lower back. You smiled to yourself rolling over and peppering his face in soft kisses to wake him, he smiles at you grunting at you. When you make a comment about what he must’ve been dreaming about his eyes burst open and his cheeks redden but you kiss it away assuring him that you’d take care of it. You crawl under the blankets but not without a little protest from Jeongin saying you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to but you wanted to more than anything. You take your time with him seeing as it was morning you didn’t want to over stimulate him in any way and hurt him. You can hear his little moans from under the cover as you lick a thick strip on the vein on the underside of his cock. You take your time kissing him and just appreciating him and he enjoys it so much that when he actually comes it takes him by surprise and it’s the hardest he’s ever come. After he would have the cutest fucked out smile wanting nothing more than to just kiss you all over your face and return the favor.

425 notes · View notes

hhjs · 3 years

Text

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary — Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

You accept it.

For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all.

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour. Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe. While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him.

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell.

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose. You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night. See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart.

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.” he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

“I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side.

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous.

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it.

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say.

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

—

Kiss underneath a mistletoe.

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right.

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different. Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

—

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh. Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you? "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know. Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

—

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear, "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

958 notes · View notes

taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.1K

a/n: ok, so, Kid is ready to give Yoon that good good just after hearing like half the mixtape, our girl hasn’t even seen the damn mv yet guys, like, she’s ready to pounce after just seven songs from her man. And honestly, mood. I hope you lovelies enjoy this, I hope it lives up to your expectations lmao, and thank you for reading :))

YOU paced back and forth from one end of your kitchen to the other as you waited for Yoongi to answer his damn phone. I mean, seriously, how long does it take to pick up the-

“Hello?” Yoongi’s low voice interrupted your thoughts through the phone’s speaker.

Gasping, you eagerly asked, “Can I start listening?” omitting a proper greeting.

“Oh hey, I’m fine, how are you?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware he couldn’t see you. “You’re expecting a lot of self-control from me right now, Min,” you complained.

Yoongi allowed himself to chuckle before responding with a humored, “if you want, you can listen, Kid.”

You squealed in excitement, bouncing around in front of the oven. “You’re sure? I don’t have to wait for you or anything?”

“Nah, I’m almost there anyway,” he told you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice he was grinning. “Just no music video yet,” he said in a whiny tone which you knew must be accompanied with a pout. He enjoyed watching your reaction to his music videos.

“No music video, I promise,” you smiled, absolutely fond of the man. “Oh my god, I’m not ready for this am I?” You yelled out, Yoongi scoffing in response.

“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” he groaned.

“Shush, I’m hanging up, I have a long-awaited mixtape to listen to, thank you very much.”

“Ok fine, fine,” he laughed, but before you could hang up, Yoongi added, “Hey, Kid?” You hummed in response. “Love you.”

You’ve heard the words a million times, but it never failed to make your heart pound. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him a bit. “Yeah, yeah, love you, I gotta go, priorities, baby. I don’t know if you’ve heard but the Agust D just made a comeback.”

He chuckled into the phone once more before giving you a, “See you in a bit,” and then hung up.

Immediately, you were pressing play on the mixtape on Spotify, already having had it pulled up for five minutes.

The first song, ‘Moonlight’, started off soft before scratching records came in, and then your boyfriend’s voice. When he gave his iconic laugh with an “August D” you smiled in pride. That’s my honey boy.

You turned your attention to the meal you were preparing for you and Yoongi, one of his favorites, stirring the contents in a big pot on the stovetop. Bopping along to the music, you listened to the lyrics that talked about his story, starting in Daegu to flying high with his group, how he goes through feelings of confidence in his work to feeling untalented, the struggles of writing this exact mixtape due to the pressure from a larger audience, expectations, and self-doubt. You knew those struggles all too well. You were with him throughout it all.

You’d been given glimpses of the songs throughout the writing process, some tracks in full while others you only saw lyric scribblings on those yellow notepads he leaves around his studio and that littered your apartment. You first saw the chorus to ‘Moonlight’ written on one of those notepads that sat on your bedside table.

“I like this,” you told your boyfriend, holding the notepad in one hand as the other found its way in his dampened hair, his face resting against your bare chest.

“Huh?” He looked up at you, his hand gripping your waist as his eyelids fluttered. The sheets were in disarray around your still nude forms. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, is it for D-2?”

“Maybe,” he told you with a yawn. “Not sure.”

“I think you should use it,” you told him, your finger outlining the shell of his ear as his lips curved into a lazy smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“You really think so?” He asked, uncertain and a bit more awake.

“Yeah, definitely.”

He kissed the center of your chest before nuzzling his face further against your breasts. “You always know best, Kid.”

You felt your eyes prick with tears as you listened to the song, feeling immensely proud of your boyfriend. Of how hard he worked, of overcoming the doubt and fear, and just simply for the talent, passion, and artistry he shared with so many people.

As the mixtape played, you went through phases of dancing around, squealing in excitement, gasping at lyrics and phrasing, and more bouncing and dancing. You tried your best to focus on the lyrics, though you knew it would take a few listens to catch them all as you were too excited to comprehend everything just then.

Completely invested in the music, you didn’t hear your front door open, unaware of your boyfriend’s presence until he appeared in your peripheral, catching you doing a little strut that resembled Yoongi’s swagger walk he did on stage. Your head snapping to him, you were met with his gummy grin, his shoulders shaking in laughter as ‘Burn It’ continued to play throughout the kitchen.

“Are you leaving me for Agust D yet?” He teased, walking toward you.

“Do you realize how sexy you are? Like do you have any idea?” You asked accusatorily. “Like what the fuck, dude?”

“Jesus,” he huffed, a smile still plastered on his face. “You’re actually ridiculous.”

“Yeah, and you’re ridiculously talented, Min. You’re not told that enough,” you told him seriously. Reaching you, he placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, stepping further into his arms.

“I’m told that plenty,” he dismissed with a bashful grin.

“No, you’re not,” you told him as ‘Burn It’ continued to play. Instead of responding to you, he kissed you which you immediately deepened, Yoongi stepping back a bit by the unexpected force behind your actions, though his arms wrapped tighter around your waist so your body was flush with his.

Pulling away, he chased your lips, making you smile. “I don’t even have the words right now to tell you how proud I am of you,” you told him seriously, tears forming in your eyes. You watched as Yoongi took a deep breath, keeping his own emotions under control at your sincere confession. “Just know I’m really proud,” you said as tears threatened to fall.

He quickly nodded just before bringing a hand to your jaw as he caught your lips again, giving you several quick pecks as he composed himself.

Letting out a breath that sounded to be one of relief, Yoongi peered around your frame, inspecting the food cooking on the stove, as well as the food that had spilled outside of the pot, with a grin. “That looks good.”

“Hopefully,” you said with a smile as Yoongi nuzzled his face against your neck, refusing to let you go. With the overwhelming pride and love you felt, mixed with the fact that the man on the mixtape was all yours, and he was standing in your kitchen, in your arms, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you had a sudden desire for him.

As ‘People’ started playing, you were instantly struck with the memory of coming to his studio as he was working on that very track. It was just the instrumental then, but it was interesting and different from the other stuff he had been working on. Yoongi must have been thinking upon the same memory as he lifted his head, a gummy grin directed to you as his eyes found yours.

“I remember the night you wrote this,” you smiled, biting your lower lip. That night, you had spent about an hour of it sitting on his desk as Yoongi sat in his chair in front of you, his chin resting on your knees as you both discussed your ideas of life, and people, and changes, and what it all meant, if it even meant anything.

You had already been dating for well over a year, but it was a moment where you and Yoongi felt a closeness between you both that hadn’t really been there before, becoming more mentally and emotionally attune with each other.

The conversation eventually faded out, the intense feeling of understanding between you both leading to you having sex on his studio couch.

“Trust me, I remember it very well,” he chuckled, his mind running through every moment of that night, from the feeling of closeness, to the warmth of your body underneath his as he pressed you against the couch cushions, the way you moaned his name and whispered ‘I love you’s’.

As the chorus of ‘People’ sounded from your laptop, your eyes widened at the sultry soothe of your boyfriend’s vocals.

“Since when do you sing like that, Min?” You teased with a smile, your eyes bouncing around his soft features. As he let out a breathy chuckle, you slid your your hands down his neck to rest overtop his collarbones as you leaned toward him and kissed him deeply.

The action took him by surprise though he easily found his rhythm, his hands slipping underneath your shirt, feeling at the bare skin of your waist.

As you began backing up, he quickly felt around to shut the stove off before following you toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Your hands found his waist as his moved to your face, taking control. You began lifting his shirt up, you both separating just long enough for you to pull it over his head and discard it somewhere in the hallway outside your room.

Eagerly, you unbuttoned his jeans, Yoongi helping you get the clothing off him as he released his hold on you to step out of them. Backing up, your legs hit the edge of the bed and you locked your eyes with your boyfriend’s. Smirking at him, you pulled your own shirt off before unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.

Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes settling on your chest before slowly dragging them back up to meet your darkened gaze. Tilting his head at you, you quipped, “What are you waiting for?” Yoongi scoffed before approaching you and pushing your body so you fell against the mattress. He reached for the waist of your jeans, taking no time in unzipping them and tugging them down your legs, you lifting your hips to help him. Your panties were removed next, Yoongi dropping them to floor as he allowed his eyes to rake over your body, taking in every inch of you.

You sat up on your elbows, watching the man as he looked over your nude form. “For a man who brags an awful lot about being a king and a boss, you seem a bit timid, baby,” you teased in a sultry tone.

Your boyfriend scoffed again, a smirk forming on his lips. “Be patient,” he scolded, though he stepped toward you, nudging your inner knee with his leg, making you widen the gap between your thighs as he stared down at your center.

“My patience disappeared the moment I clicked play on that mixtape,” you smiled. “I want you.” With that, you sat up, your hands slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, lowering them until they easily slid down his legs, pooling at his feet. You kept eye contact with him as you left a sweet kiss to his lower abdomen, just above his pelvic area.

He let out a quick breath as he smiled, lowering his body on top of yours, your back meeting the mattress. “If I had known Agust D would get you this worked up I would have released a mixtape two years ago,” he joked, your hands grabbing onto his sides as his lips found yours, kissing you passionately.

One of his arms was being used to prop himself up overtop you as his opposite hand slid down to your core, his fingers feeling between your legs. He groaned into your mouth at feeling how wet you’d become, and you smiled against his lips.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you used your strength to push against his body, rolling him over and straddling his hips. Yoongi’s breath was heavy and shallow as he anticipated being inside you, his large hands gripping your hips, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of your form on top of him. He always did love you on top.

Placing one of your hands to his chest, your other found his hardened length. You stroked him a few times, Yoongi letting out a soft moan at the feeling, his hand sliding up your abdomen to your breast as he squeezed the supple flesh in his palm. At his touch, you guided him to your entrance, sharply intaking breath at the feeling of him slipping inside, letting the air out in a throaty moan.

“Fuck, Kid,” Yoongi breathed out, pinching your nipple between his fingers as you moved your hand from his dick to his chest, bracing yourself against him as you began slowly grinding atop him. Yoongi’s hand left your breast to your thigh, clutching the muscle as he bit his lip, watching your body move. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You held back a moan as you increased your pace, looking up to the ceiling before squeezing your eyes shut as he hit particularly deep. “Fuck,” you breathed out, lowering your gaze to Yoongi’s face, meeting his hooded eyes as he looked up at you in bliss.

His chest was like velvet underneath your hands and you wanted to feel more of his skin on yours. As if reading your mind, Yoongi moved his hands to your lower back, pulling you toward him so your chest was flush with his. He kissed you messily as he lifted his hips off the bed to move in and out of you as he held you to his body.

“I love you so much,” he confessed shakily against your lips, his breathing erratic due to the pleasure you were giving him.

“Oh my god, Yoongi, I love you,” you moaned, moving your face to his neck where you kissed and nibbled his skin lightly.

Wanting to treat him, you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him, sitting back up as you rocked back and forth on him, arching your back and placing a hand to his thigh to support yourself. Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto the sides of your legs as he watched you, looking more and more fucked out the longer you rode him.

Eyeing his thin but toned body, his smooth skin, and the flex of his abdomen as he took sharp breaths, you groaned. “You look so good,” you told him, admiring the man beneath you. Your man. All yours. “Feel so good,” you moaned.

One of Yoongi’s hands left your leg to find your hand that was pressed against his lower abdomen. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours before bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly as he locked his gaze on yours.

The intimate action had your lower abdomen tightening. Sitting up straight, you brought your hand toward him which he grabbed with his other hand, helping you to support yourself as your motions atop him became hastier, approaching your high.

“Yoon, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby,” he nodded, squeezing your hands as you neared your climax. “Me too.”

You let out a whimper, lowering your body to Yoongi’s again, your dewy chest meeting his, Yoongi wrapping his arms around your lower back as you both worked each other into your finishes. Yoongi buried his face in your neck as he let out small muffled grunts, you breathing out a moan in his ear. As he came, he hugged your body to his tightly, letting go inside you. The feeling of him releasing had you crashing into your own high, biting your lip as you moaned breathily, Yoongi kissing your neck sweetly as you came down.

You relaxed atop Yoongi, breathing heavy as his fingers toyed with the small of your back, soothing back and forth along the curve of your ass. You had a hand on his neck, slipping your fingers into his damp strands, your other hand on his chest, dragging your fingers along his pectoral.

“The mixtape is really good,” you assured him in a whisper, kissing his jaw. “Well, what I’ve heard so far.”

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle, flattening a palm on your lower back. “Thank you, Kid.”

“No need to thank me, I’m just being honest.”

“No, thank you for always supporting me. In everything,” he clarified, emotion thick in his voice.

You lifted your head to peer at his face, catching the glassy shine in his eyes. “Always,” you assured him.

He nodded, looking at you with a soft smile. “I know,” he whispered, barely audible, giving away that he didn’t trust his voice, knowing it would break if he spoke louder. “It means- you mean the world.”

You lowered your lips to his face, giving his plush cheek a small kiss. “I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex,” you teased with a big smile, Yoongi scoffing, though he couldn’t hold back his gummy grin.

He groaned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m starving,” he changed the topic, making you giggle.

“Well, lucky for you, your girlfriend made you a delicious nearly cooked meal that is probably very cold at this point,” you smirked.

“Oh, lucky for me?” He questioned with a small smile.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed with a small chuckle.

Yoongi sucked air between his teeth, ticking his head to the side. “Remind me to wife you up later.”

You scoffed playfully, rolling off his body as you prepared to stand up and find some clothes. “In your dreams, Min.”

Scooping your t-shirt off the floor, you slipped it over your head before grabbing a pair of panties from your dresser drawer, all while Yoongi’s eyes followed your every move. Sending your boyfriend an air kiss from where he sat at the edge of the bed watching you, you walked toward the bedroom door. “Hurry up and get dressed, Gramps, I need your album commentary.”

You exited the room, turning toward the bathroom to clean yourself up. Yoongi shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, in my dreams,” he mumbled as he stood up to get dressed. Taking his sweet ass time, you walked back past the bedroom toward the kitchen, noticing him still stumbling around for a shirt.

“Hey, hustle, Min! I still have a music video to watch, my dude!” You called out to him as he looked to you with widened eyes. “Your shirt is out here, by the way.”

“Ah, what did I tell you about patience,” he whined out, a pout on his lips as he walked through the hallway, grabbing his shirt on his way, feeling full of appreciation and adoration for you.

4K notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

way too hot ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1608

request?: yes!

“heyyy, I love your writing. do you think you could please do a mgk imagine based off of his and yungbluds new song acting like that? thanks <3″

“Heyyy. I love your writing and I was wondering if you could maybe do a Colson Baker x reader based off of the song he and yungblud did, acting like that? I would really appreciate it if you did. Love your account so much btw!!”

description: in which she comes back to her ex way too often, and he finally decides to confront her about it

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

based on this song

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of loud knocking woke Colson from his deep sleep. He checked the time on his phone to see that it was 4am. Normally, Colson’s insomnia would have him awake at this time anyways, but he had been attempting to fix his sleep schedule now that he had some time off, and he was succeeding for the most part.

The knock came again, causing Colson to groan and throw his warm blanket off himself to venture out into his cold house.

He wasn’t shocked to see his ex-girlfriend stood at his door, nearly stumbling into the house.

“Shit,” she breathed. “I-I didn’t mean...I told the cab driver the wrong house. I’m sorry, Colson, I - ”

Colson could smell the alcohol basically wafting off her, mixed with the sweet, familiar scent of her perfume. He sighed and stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he had numerous times before, he gave her a change of clothes and set up the couch for her to sleep on. He helped her to the couch and gave her water and an Aspirin to help with her inevitable hang over in the morning.

(Y/N) drifted off to sleep within seconds. Colson looked down at her, a million things running through his head to say to her. He decided it would be best to wait until the morning before saying anything, when he was less tired and she was less drunk.

After another moment of just gazing down at his once love, he finally made his way back up to his room.

~~~~~~

When he finally came down the next morning, (Y/N) was still sound asleep. Colson knew he should be annoyed, that he probably shouldn’t have even let her stay there that night. But he wasn’t annoyed, far from it. Part of him was almost happy to see her asleep in his house again.

Although, this wasn’t the first time she had stumbled her way to Colson’s place since they had broken up. Colson had lost count of how many times it had happened, and each time she would swear it was the last only to show up again about a week later.

Colson and (Y/N) had agreed to break up nearly six months ago when they found their relationship was starting to struggle due to Colson’s busy schedule. Colson had been trying to move on when she showed up on his doorstep first, so drunk she could barley speak and tears running down her face. Colson had brought her in and allowed her to stay the night, both of them sure it was going to be a one time thing.

He still loved her, he couldn’t deny that, but her constant drunk visits followed by her insistence that it was the last time felt like he was being stabbed in the heart repeatedly. He either wanted to make things work between them again, or to move on from the relationship.

Colson sighed and approached the couch. He gently touched (Y/N)’s leg, and when she didn’t stir he shook her a little. Her eyes slowly began to open, but she winced from the harsh sunlight beaming in from the living room window and groaned.

“Sorry,” Colson said. “Forgot they were open.”

“Colson?” (Y/N) mumbled, her hands covering her eyes as Colson moved to shut the blinds. “Shit, I did it again, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Colson confirmed. “Take the Aspirin I left you, it’ll help with the headache.”

(Y/N) moved slowly as she sat up and reached for the Aspirin. She moved too suddenly once and hissed in pain, which caused Colson to wince himself. He went to the kitchen as to not have to watch her agony much longer. He threw some leftovers into the microwave, enough for the two of them to share, and brought a plate of food to the kitchen for (Y/N).

“You don’t have to do that,” she told him, although she took the plate anyways. “I probably shouldn’t be here long, anyways.”

“You’re still nursing a hangover, no way I’m letting you go anywhere any time soon,” he decided.

Silence fell over the two of them as (Y/N) took a mouthful of her food. Colson snuck a quick glance at her when he was sure she wasn’t looking. Even just awake with a hangover, she looked like the most beautiful girl in the world.

He could feel his heart racing with delight at just having her there, and he realized he couldn’t let things go much further without addressing the elephant in the room.

“Why do you keep doing this, (Y/N)?”

She looked up at him, a fork full of food paused midair towards her lips. She placed it back down on her plate, averting her eyes from Colson. “I...I’m sorry. I’ll stop, it’s just - ”

“I don’t necessarily want you to stop,” Colson cut her off, although that wasn’t really the truth. “I just...I want to know why you keep getting drunk and coming here in the middle of the night. I wanna know why you do that and then you leave immediately and say you want to pretend like nothing ever happened, only to do it all again. I don’t mind helping you sometimes, but fuck (Y/N), you do make it hard to try and move on from our breakup.”

Tears were starting to form in (Y/N)’s eyes. She looked away from Colson in an effort to hide them, but he could see her lip quivering and could see the trail of water running down her cheek.

“Because...I have a hard time letting you go, too,” she responded, her voice soft.

“What?” Colson asked, although he had heard her.

“I have a hard time letting you go, Colson!” she repeated, much louder this time. “I understand that our relationship wasn’t great, but I wanted nothing more than to try and fight for it; for us. I wanted to be the perfect girlfriend who sat by and waited for her rockstar boyfriend to come home so she could shower him with the love and support he deserved, and I wanted to be cool with the constant partying even when you were home, or the guys always being over and never giving us alone time. I tried so hard to be that way. I...I had hoped you weren’t noticing the relationship going south, too. I hoped I could just fake things being okay until they were again.”

He ached to reach out and take hold of her hand. He hated to see her cry and wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he knew that was inappropriate to do in that moment. So, he just sat, watching the girl of his dreams cry over her love for him.

“Why didn’t you say that when we decided to break up?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I figured it was for the best. I felt that we weren’t how we used to be, you were unhappy. I thought we’d both be better off if we broke up.”

“I wasn’t unhappy.”

She looked up at him. “What? Yes you were, you said - ”

“I said I was unhappy that I couldn’t be with you how you deserved. I wasn’t unhappy with the relationship as a whole, I was unhappy with how I was holding up my end of the relationship.”

(Y/N) was shocked into silence. All these months she had believed that Colson was unhappy in their relationship. She had convinced herself that it was her own doing, that she hadn’t been good enough to keep up with his lifestyle. He had never told her he was unhappy with himself.

“You never told me that,” she pointed out.

“I guess neither one of us was really good with communication then.”

(Y/N) smiled a little at this. She had placed her food aside, no longer feeling able to eat. Colson reached for the plate and was about to make his way back to the kitchen when (Y/N) stopped him.

“Do you think there’s any way we could start again?”

Colson paused in the living room doorway before turning back to look at her. “You mean...from the beginning?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Maybe...I don’t know. At least start from back before your career blew up and we were both trying to navigate these new waters we were unfamiliar with.”

The corner of Colson’s lips tugged up in a slight smile, his heart fluttering with excitement. “I definitely think we could try. As long as we both promise to be open with one another. No more of this thinking we know what’s best for the other. We lay everything out on the table and we talk through our problems.”

(Y/N)’s smile mirrored his own as she nodded. “Yeah, I like that plan.”

Colson nodded as well. He didn’t want to walk away now, he just wanted to go back and join (Y/N) on the couch. He wanted to smoother her in kisses and cuddle her until her hungover headache went away. He wanted to have his girl back in his arms again.

“I’m glad we decided this,” he finally said. “While I love how adorable you act when you’re drunk, you’re truly way too hot to be acting like that.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh yeah? Acting like what?”

“Like a crazy drunk ex.”

He began to laugh and ducked out of the room just in time to miss a pillow (Y/N) threw at him in retaliation for his words.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #estxx #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

295 notes · View notes

vendettaparker · 3 years

Text

Talking to the Moon [P.P]

Summary: When Peter’s identity is leaked, he is forced to leave you and his old life behind, shattering your heart in the process.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, like straight up rip your heart out. Far From Home spoiler (kinda), Endgame spoiler (kinda)

a/n: so if you couldn’t tell this is based off of the song ‘Talking to the Moon’ by Bruno Mars. its a loose interpretation. i’ve been planning an angsty fic like this for a while. angst is my favorite genre of fic, especially when it has a hopeful or fluffy ending. so this one DOES have a hopeful ending and potential for a sequel,, so yuh, enjoy! <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Three years, two months, and 14 days. That’s how long it had been since Peter’s identity was leaked. That’s how long it had been since he left you. For good.

Peter had been frantic after that news broadcast aired. He webbed back to the compound immediately, crying the whole way. He was scared for himself, sure, but the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach for May, Ned, MJ, you. That was the reason for his tears now. He could hardly breathe by the time he made it to the compound. Happy, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky meeting him as he burst through the large floor to wall windows in the main room. The frantic yelling, pleas, and cries coming from the main room were what alerted you to his presence. When you walked in he was a mess. Crying, heaving with anxiety about how scared he was. Peter had always been a sensitive, emotional boy, but he always got over his shit eventually. But this? This, seemed like the end for him.

You ran up to him, shushing him and holding him. Trying to tell him to simply “breathe”. All he could say, over and over again like a mantra was a schloo of “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your heart broke. How could fate be so cruel to the sweetest boy? The one who was the most deserving of all the happiness life could possibly offer. The rest of the team had shown up within the next hour. Happy, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Pepper also present. Peter had calmed down slightly, but he knew, he just knew, this was the day he had to say goodbye. He had had this talk with Mr. Stark back when he had stopped his first villain, Vulture. Tony knew the type of sick monsters out there who would love to get their hands on the boy behind the Spider-man mask. He and Peter had developed a plan in the tragic case that Peter’s identity should be released, at least, not on his own terms. Tony’s plan was for Peter to run away. Leave. Take nothing with him but the clothes on his back, and even then burn those clothes the minute he could. Tony knew. He knew these dangers. And worse, he knew the consequences.

May had come to the compound the second she got the call. She knew as well. Peter knew. She knew. Tony, even in his grave, knew. Everyone knew. Everyone but you.

Peter had a getaway car and a destination ready within another hour. He wouldn’t disclose it to anyone. He took you aside, gently stroking your cheek to wipe the hot tears that never seemed to cease. “Hey, hey, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He whispered, choking up on every other word, trying to be stronger, just a little stronger, for you. “I have to go now. I’m so so sorry. I love you so much.”

“It’s okay Peter,” You sniffled, pushing his bangs back and giving him a sad smile. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be here when you get back. Don’t worry.”

Peter’s lips quivered and he heaved another sob. “No, (Y/N). I-I’m not coming back.” You took your hand back as you felt the pressure of tears building behind your eyes.

“W-what? No, this—it’s just temporary. Until we can—Fury and Pepper—We can fix this.” You stuttered anxiously, hoping your words would convince him that this was okay. That everything would be okay.

“We can’t, (Y/N). It’s done.” Peter spoke, his voice hardly making it to a whisper.

“No!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to hold him closer. “Please. Please. Please. I-I can’t! You can’t! I—You’re all I have!” You were sobbing uncontrollably now. The weight of the situation finally caving in and crushing your heart and soul. “Please! I’ll do anything, I’ll protect you! Please!”

Your meltdown didn’t help Peter one bit, if anything, seeing how desperate you were to keep hold of him, to just love him; that broke him more. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. Please.”

“How can I? You’re killing me.” You whimpered into his chest, tears soaking through his black sweatshirt. “I can’t— I just— I can’t!”

The whole team heard. No walls were thick enough to block out the heartbroken sobs from the two teenagers in love. Fury was the one to finally bring an end to it. Nobody else having the heart to pry you from each other. Even Fury felt his own stoic exterior cracking.

You were in hysterics, clawing, and grabbing at Peter’s sweatshirt, hair, face, anything you could grab. It didn’t matter if you hurt him at this point, he’d heal. But if he left you, you knew you’d never recover. Fury had put you in a chokehold while yanking you back. Peter just heaved and heaved, his sobs getting louder and his chest getting tighter. May rushed over to him and took his hand, placing his head in her chest.

Fury yanked you back more, but you still refused to quit. Fury released his chokehold, not wanting to do any real damage to you. Right as you were released, Wanda came up behind you and placed her hands on your head, red magic already starting to swirl.

“No, please.” You wheezed, trying to get a fresh breath of air. “He’s all I have.”

Wanda looked at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

Without so much as a flick of her wrist, you were out, descending into darkness.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter left after that. The car taking him away, and you hadn’t seen him since. As the months went on you never really recovered. Never really felt whole again. You just survived. That was all. You went through the motions of everyday life, but never truly felt like you were living. Two weeks after Peter left, May left with Happy. They moved to California, living there ever since as well. They got married last year. You were all invited and everyone went. Everyone but you. You missed May and Happy, but it still hurt. Plus, you were busy anyway. After you graduated high school, you flung yourself into the avenger lifestyle, fully immersing yourself in it. You went on every mission possible. Did all the paperwork you could. You did anything and everything you could to keep yourself busy. Stop yourself from feeling the pain that had stopped feeling like a searing stab and had now turned into a dull ache. A new constant in your life.

Nights were the worst though. The only time you couldn’t be constantly avenging or working yourself to the bone on new suit technology. The only time you had to think and feel. The only thing keeping you going was the hope that Peter was still out there. Somewhere, anywhere, missing you as much as you were missing him. Watching the same moon you watched. Basking in the same sun that shined on you every day. Every horrible, miserable day.

“(Y/N)?” the quiet, soft voice of Pepper breaking you out of your headspace. You hummed a response and looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No, sorry.” You responded sheepishly. Pepper’s gaze softened. She took in your lean figure and pale face, eyes seeming to be sunken in from the dark circles. “I was just finishing up this briefing of my last mission.”

“You went alone?” Pepper asked, concern washing over her features.

“It was a simple one. Just took out a mob, was done in like, four hours.”

Pepper sighed. “(Y/N)—”

“Pep, it’s fine. It was so easy, anyone could have done it.” You cut her off, turning back to your laptop, typing away.

“It’s not just that though. It’s all of this. This whole funk you’re in. The same one you’ve been in for years, (Y/N).” Pepper waved her hands around to emphasize her point. “We all see it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. He wouldn’t want this.”

Your whole demeanor changed. The solemn, yet calm veneer breaking. “It doesn’t matter what he wants, Pepper! I didn’t want this. All I wanted was him. For the rest of my life. Nothing else would matter, as long as I had him to get me through it. But I don’t have him. I have nothing. He was it for me. He—” You sobbed, tears finally running down your face in an uncontrollable waterfall. “I feel like I died. Like I am just a spectator, no longer doing anything of interest to myself.”

Pepper pulled you into her so fast. She was always quick to console you. The months after Peter left she was the only one you could stomach seeing. “It’s okay. I know, shh, I know.” Pepper was tearing up now too. She knew you never got over it. But now seeing with her own eyes how broken you’d really become. The reality hurt. “He’s out there, okay? And it’s going to be okay. He’s okay. We’re okay.”

You just cried. That’s all you could do. The more you tried to talk about it the stronger the urge to cry was. Pepper just hummed and held you. Stroking your hair until you fell asleep.

When you woke up you were in your room. It was dark and the moon was shining through the opened window. You just stared at it, closing your eyes and imagining Peter was staring at it too. The same one. Thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another few weeks went by. The same routine, the same empty feeling consistent in your body. Nothing changed. The revelation that you were, in fact, not okay didn’t fix anything. It still hurt. You were still broken.

You were in the training room, sparring with Wanda when the melodic tune of your ringtone rang through the gym, echoing off the walls. You put your hands up in defense to stop Wanda from continuing the match. Wanda whipped her hands around and brought your phone to you in a wisp of red magic.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, wiping your sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and taking the phone from the air. Wanda nodded and jumped out of the ring to grab her water bottle.

You looked at your phone still ringing, seeing an unfamiliar number, but taking in the location: Budapest, Hungary. You answered the call bringing the phone up to your ear “Hello?” You asked, shifting from one foot to the other waiting for a reply. A beat of silence pasted before you heard a tired, yet all too familiar voice on the other end.

“(Y/N)?”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker angst #marvel #far from home #avengers endgame #endgame #Tom Holland #song inspired #this made me emotional #i cried way harder than i shouldve #sad songs #avengers

681 notes · View notes

alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Clean

As Spencer struggles to overcome his dilaudid addiction, Y/N is dealing with an addiction of her own, to her toxic, manipulative boyfriend. This is an account of a full year, following their joint journeys to sobriety and new love.

A/N: Hi!! I have another Taylor Swift inspired Spencer Reid one shot (but of course you do not need to know the song to understand the one shot). Although originally I was going to write something more fluffy, I switched to this song to write something more angsty and interesting. However, to change pace from my last one shot, this one has a much happier, hopeful ending. However, it is very triggering so please read the trigger warnings before you start. Also, if you have any songs you want to read please let me know!! Also, if you just have a general request please send it my way! Thank you so much for the love on my All Too Well one shot, I never thought my first fanfic on here would be so well received!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: Angst, but hopeful angst

Word Count: 7.6K

Content Warnings: Cursing, mentally and physically abusive relationship, relationship cheating (ie, reader is being cheated on), blood and cuts description, drug addiction (these parts are kept short purposefully), lots of fighting and yelling both in reader’s relationship and between Spencer and reader, however, there is a happy and hopeful ending. Reader is struggling to get out of her toxic relationship, please no comments about her being stupid. If you are in a situation like Y/N, please don’t use this fic as a guide. Get help immediately. https://www.thehotline.org/

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments, the time and date headers serve as time skips :) let me know what you think! Please request any songs you would like to see be made one shots!

“You're still all over me Like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore Hung my head as I lost the war And the sky turned black like a perfect storm”

3:27 AM, April 16th, 2007.

You have known Spencer for a long time. In fact, you’ve known him longer than you’ve known Randall, and you’ve felt like you’ve known Randall your entire life.

Maybe that’s because you let him become your entire life.

Still, although you had known Spencer for 7 years, 2 years longer than the entirety of your on again, off again relationship with Randall. You still felt weird calling him. He was going through a lot right now, not that he wasn’t normally. Spencer had one of the most difficult jobs you could think of. You know Spencer has shot and killed people before, and you know every time he did it ate him up inside.

And every time he did he called you.

You also knew that Spencer is one of the kindest people you have ever met, you struggle to imagine him wielding a gun on a daily basis. He just seems too sweet, too perfect.

Yet there was a lot you didn’t know about the young genius.

You have no idea that as you stand in the street, contemplating whether you should call Spencer to come and get you, Spencer is making a difficult decision of his own. As you worry about the possibility of waking Spencer up this early in the morning, Spencer sits wide awake and ponders if he has enough time to get high before he has to leave for work in 3 hours.

As you sit on the side of the road, debating between your very few options, Spencer leads up against the side of his bathtub tears pouring down his cheeks, tears that he doesn’t even register as being there.

Fortunately for the both of you, at the same time Spencer reaches into his bag to search for that tiny glass bottle, his phone begins to ring.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You sigh, “He kicked me out again Spencer, is there anyway you can come get me?”

Spencer looks around his apartment, frantically hiding the belt and the needles he had gotten out for the events he was anticipating. “Yeah, of course I can come get you, um, just give me a couple minutes and send me your location.”

3:52 AM, April 16th, 2007.

You’re in the passenger’s seat of Spencer’s car, both of you sitting in silence. This situation isn’t new to either of you, Spencer has picked you up plenty of times before, in fact he’s done it for years now. One time, about 3 years into your relationship with Randall, you were permitted to go out by yourself with Spencer’s team, they wanted to meet you, apparently Spencer talked about you all the time. While you were at dinner with them, Morgan asked you if you had a car of your own. You explained that you did, but that your boyfriend had it a majority of the time, and that when he didn’t he hated you using it because you always had to mess with everything. He hates you touching his stuff. Morgan made a weird face about that answer, so you quickly followed up, explaining that you didn’t mind.

You do mind though. You hate how he never lets you touch anything or go anywhere, and you hate how much he despises your only form of transportation.

Spencer.

Randall hates everything about Spencer Reid, and he especially hates seeing his car pull into your driveway. That’s why after the 8th time he kicked you out, you started walking half a mile to the nearest gas station before calling Spencer.

The first time Spencer came to get you Randall came out to talk to you before you left.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“It’s Spencer, he’s gonna take me to his apartment.” you explained, confused why Randall was so angry you were leaving when he was the one who had kicked you out.

“Oh so just because I don’t want to look at your bitchass all night that means you can go sleep with another man? I knew you were a whore Y/N. You know him and his stupid fucking car aren’t going to be able to deal with you the way I can. How old is that thing anyway?”

“Randall, calm down, I’m not sleeping with Spencer. I love you, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. But I’m not gonna sit out here all night, where else should I go?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so quick to whore yourself out to the easiest man you could find I would invite you back inside,” he said before slamming the door in your face.

So you got in Spencer’s car, the one Randall would grow to hate so much.

“Are you okay Y/N? He didn’t hit you did he? You know you can come live with me, you should really get out of that house, I can get Morgan tomorrow and we can go get your belongings. I have plenty of-”

You snapped at him, “No Spencer he’s not hitting me! Why do you always jump to that conclusion, Randall is a great guy! I would’ve never called you if you were going to jump to conclusions like this. You’re supposed to be a genius, yet you’re acting like such a dumb ass right now.”

Spencer looked at you, and immediately you regretted your words. You knew Spencer was just worried about you and with his line of work he had reason to be. However before you could apologize he spoke again.

“I’m sorry Y/N, forget I said anything.”

You both sat in silence for a few moments before you even knew what to say, and yet all you could think of was, “Hey Spence, what kind of car do you drive?”

He smiled, “It’s a 1965 Volvo Amazon P130 122S, it’s horizon blue, that’s the color they refer to it as. Did you know they’re known as so reliable that the 4 door models are still used as police vehicles in some places. This one’s a two door, but still runs great. . . “

You smiled, how fitting a man as reliable as Spencer Reid had the perfect car to match.

When you get to Spencer’s apartment something seems off. Spencer has always lived in organized chaos, but this just feels different. Unlike his normal mess, this one feels like a blatant disregard for his things, even some of his most prized possessions. His books are strewn across the floors, his clothes overflowing from his laundry basket, which was a mix of both folded, clean, yet to be put away things and worn items. Weirdly, the one place that looks untouched is his kitchen, as if he hasn’t used it in months. And you mean that in the most literal interpretation, his counters are covered in visible, undisturbed dust.

“Thank you so much Spencer, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He smiles, but his eyes look so tired. “Don’t worry about it Y/N.”

And at 4:47, you finally fall asleep in Spencer’s bedroom, which he insists you take, and he stays awake until he leaves for work just a few hours later.

9:33 PM, April 17th, 2007.

You leave Spencer’s apartment the following night, after an unfortunate screaming match with him. You have never seen him so angry, so easily ticked off. Yet as soon as Randall called you Spencer became aggressive.

“Yeah babe, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll take a cab and be home within the hour. Of course I’m not mad at you sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean it. I love you, see you soon.”

Spencer exitted his kitchen in a huff, and opened his mouth to start talking before you spoke up.

“I’m sure you’ve overheard already, but Randall’s letting me back in the house. Thank you so much Spence. I really appreciate everything you do to help me. Call me soon please, I definitely owe you lunch,” you said, grabbing your coat and your phone, the only things you had managed to grab from your home before your unplanned eviction.

“Why do you even stay with him Y/N? Why do you keep going back there?” Spencer yelled. You had never seen him like this before, so livid and irritable.

“I love him Spence, and he loves me,” you explained, and you were telling the truth. You do love Randall, and you know that in his heart he loves you too, even if he got a little angry sometimes.

“If he loved you he wouldn’t treat you like this Y/N! Don’t you think I would know? I see this everyday! It’s my job! And yet my best friend is too stupid to realize she’s been in an abusive relationship for almost 6 years!”

You were just as angry now, “You’re wrong Spencer, I don’t wanna hear this okay? I love Randall and he loves me. We deserve each other.”

Spencer’s face softened before growing angry once more, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck you Spencer, I’m going home. I don’t need you and I don't need your help,” you said, grabbing your things and slamming the door open. You were lying, you need Spencer and you need his help more than anything, but you didn’t want to admit that while he was being such a dick.

“Fine!” he yelled, “Go run back to him then, but you better not call me when he kicks you out again. I don’t care anymore!”

And so you left, Spencer slammed the door behind you as you stormed out of his apartment. You didn’t stop to think about the fact that Spencer never acts like this. He has never lashed out at you, never questioned your relationship with Randall to your face, let alone scream at you and insult you because of it. You didn’t stop and think about what Spencer was on, or not on, that was making his act like this.

But you thought about it now.

You want to get home before Randall starts to get upset and suspicious, but now after your fight with Spencer you have to walk home. You couldn’t ask him to borrow cash for a cab, let alone ask him to drive you there. You were stuck walking, which also meant you were stuck with Randall’s wrath when you returned.

You already feel terrible about the way you treated Spencer. You think about going to apologize, and stand in front of the door for a second, weighing the pros and cons of doing so. Eventually, you go to turn away, ultimately deciding that you both needed to calm down before speaking to each other again.

Yet as you turn, the door opens. Spencer stands right there, strangely calm, seemingly out of it. All fury and anger you had seen just minutes before gone. In this moment he resembles Randall, and it's the first time you’ve ever been able to draw any comparison to the two.

It’s scary.

“Spencer I-” but you get cut off, not by words, but by an object. Before you can even register what was just thrown in your face the door is closed again. You duck down to grab what was thrown.

Twenty dollars.

For the cab ride home.

1:34 AM, April 23rd, 2007.

You light the final candle on your dining room table, before stepping back to admire your work. Randall always came home so late from work, so you rarely ate dinner together. But today was your anniversary, so you stayed up late, prepared his favorite meal and set up all of your fancy dinnerware so that you could have a very late dinner together before he goes to bed and you go to work. He should be home any minute now.

Yet 3 hours later Randall is not back. You’re just about to cut your losses and call it a night, and start to clean up the melted down candles and cold steak dinner as you hear your front door open.

“Y/N! What are you doing still awake?”

“Do you know what day it is Randall? Because I do.”

He looks down at his watch, checks the time, and looks back up at you, “Well it is now 3:57 AM, meaning it is now Monday. Which is why I’m curious as to what you’re still doing up sweetheart, you have to be at work in 3 hours.” “There’s something special about THIS Monday Randall,” you sigh, you’re disappointed but not surprised, this has happened for the past 3 years.

“Do you have a project going on at work baby? You know I can’t keep track of all that crap, your job is so silly and easy to lose track of. You have to remind me of these things if you actually want me to care about them.”

“It’s our anniversary Randall.”

He stops, but instead of looking guilty or remorseful (like you secretly hoped), he gets livid, “No it’s not, are you stupid or something?”

“Randall, baby it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”

“No! You stupid fucking bitch, are you trying to make me look bad, cooking this stupid fancy dinner and staying up late. Trying to lie and act like I forgot our five year anniversary?! Stop playing the victim Y/N. So tell me, are you lying to make me feel bad, or is your brain really that fucking empty?”

“It’s our six year anniversary,” you whisper.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I was just being stupid Randall. You’re right baby, I forgot the date of our anniversary.”

He snarls. “I don’t think so Y/N, I think, actually I know that not only are you stupid, but that you’re a liar. I know that you just want to make me look bad by preparing our anniversary dinner a week early. And you have to push it by claiming we’ve been together for six years. I know it’s five. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” you cry.

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” he yells, pushing his plate of steak and mashed potatoes, letting your parent’s wedding china shatter on the ground. You cry harder. “You’re a stupid, waste of my time Y/N. Five wasted years I’ve spent on you. Do you know why I do it, huh. Do you know why I stay with you when I could have one of the beautiful, rich, successful, truthful women I’m fucking?”

You shake your head.

“It’s because I feel pity for you. No other man would want you. I’m the only one that will ever love you. You know that right Y/N?” He picks up a piece of your hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. “Tell me that I’m the only one who will love you, you know it’s the truth right?” You nod your head. In a swift motion Randall turns, grabs a glass full of red wine and chucks it at the wall, narrowly avoiding your left ear.

“I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.”

“You’re the only one who will ever love me Randall,” you croak out in between sobs.

He closes the distance between you two once more, gripping your chin and jerking your face so that your eyes meant his. It hurts, and makes you cry more, but you don’t say anything.

“Don’t you know it sweetness,” he lets go, delivers a sharp slap to your check and grips your wrist. “Now clean your mess up, and then I think it’s best if you get out of the house for a little bit, don’t you agree?”

You nod quickly. He smiles.

“Good girl, now I would normally be worried about you going to hook up with that string bean you’re always all over, but according to the last time I went through your phone, he isn’t in your recent calls. Glad to know he’s finally done with your bullshit. I’m sure a nice long walk alone will do you good. You can think about what led you to lying tonight, and then maybe you can come back in time for our real anniversary.”

He slips upstairs, so you clean up the rest of the uneaten meal and the broken wine class, cutting up your hands severely in the process. You spend at least an hour in a futile attempt to get red wine stains off of your wallpaper, before grabbing your phone and purse and running out the door.

Even after what Randall says, you still think about calling Spencer. Your thumb hovers over the call button for a minute until you switch the contact, phoning your boss instead. You inform her you need a personal day, and that it’s a family emergency.

You check the time, 6:53. Spencer is almost definitely on his way to work right now. You want to call him so bad, but the things he said you ring through your mind. You can’t ask for his help anymore.

For the first time, you are truly on your own.

Until a familiar horizon blue Volvo pulls up next to the curb you’re sitting on, and Spencer Reid sticks his head out the window.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Get it the car, come on I’ll drive you to work with me.”

Confused as you are, this is your best option right now. So you climb into the passenger seat of his car, refusing to make eye contact with him, instead looking at your bleeding hands. “Oh my god, Y/N. You’re bleeding. Did Randall do this to you? Why didn’t you call me?”

“No, Spencer, Randall didn’t do this to me. He dropped a wine glass and I helped him pick it up. Now just drive.” And he does, drive that is. But you can feel his stares, on your cut up hands, and you forming bruises. You can feel him profiling the signs of abuse on your body.

But more than that you hate that you can feel he’s upset with you. Upset because you didn’t call him. Does he not remember screaming at you not too?

He pulls into the parking lot, parks the car and finally turns to make eye contact with you. He has tears in his, “I really wish you would’ve called me Y/N. If it’s getting this bad I want you to stay with me.”

“Spencer am I going insane?”

“Of course not, what do you mean?” he looks so gentle, so kind and you’re so confused.

“Do you remember what day me and Randall started dating?”

“Yes, it was April 23rd, 2001. 6 years ago today actually. Is that why he did this to you? Does it have anything to do with that?”

“How can you remember that but not our screaming match a week ago?” you laughed, your hands burned now, there’s definitely glass in there, you swear you can feel the tiny little shards in your blood.

“What do you mean, Y/N? We didn’t scream at each other? I haven’t even seen you in weeks. How long has he been hitting you? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Spencer, on the 16th you picked me up and took me back to your apartment because Randall kicked me out. On the evening of the 17th I went to leave because Randall told me I could come home. You said I was being abused and called me stupid for going back to him. When we fought about it I stormed out and you told me not to call you if he kicked me out again because you didn’t care anymore. That’s why I didn’t call you.”

You look up at Spencer, and nearly start crying yourself when you see his crumpled face. Tears are freely spilling down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t remember that,” he pushes his long hair out of his face, clearly frazzled, “I- I can’t believe I don’t remember that.”

Before you can say anything, Spencer pulls out his phone. “Hey Hotch, it’s me. I can’t come in today. I need to use a personal day. . . I’ll tell you later. Okay, thank you” He angrily pulls out of the parking lot, and you can tell he’s headed back to his apartment.

“Spencer it’s okay, I’m not upset with you.”

“No Y/N, it’s not okay. I said all those terrible things to you, of course you were scared to call me after them. The worst part is I was too high to even remember it all. I- I just can’t believe I helped him do this to you,” tears still freely flowing down his face.

“Spencer what are you talking about? I was with you all day, you weren’t high. You don’t even drink, how could you be high?”

He sighs, “do you remember when I was kidnapped by that unsub, Tobias Hankel? About 2 months ago?” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Well, I told you about his multiple personalities, how one beat me to death and then Tobias resurrected me, how I had to kill Tobias in order to survive, even though Tobias himself did nothing to me. Well when I was in the barn, Tobias would give me drugs, dilaudid, in order to cut the pain of his other personalities’ abuse. When I killed him, I took the drugs he had one him with me, and I can’t stop Y/N. It’s affecting my life, my work, and now it’s affecting you.” He parks his car in his apartment complex’s lot and turns to look at you. “Hotch has never said anything about it, so even though the team knows I have no reason to quit, I think I do now. Y/N, I think we need to get clean together.”

Suddenly that night made sense, Spencer was irritable and strange, he wasn’t high, he was going through withdrawal. But when he threw the money at you, so loopy and out of it, he was on it. He was so high he didn’t remember the moments before.

“Spencer, I don't know what to say. I want to help you get sober, I want that more than anything, but I’m not addicted to drugs, I rarely even drink.”

“I know Y/N, you don’t have a drug problem like me, but you are an addict. You need to leave Randall. You know it, I know it, but you can’t.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Spencer continues to speak, “It’s okay, I understand why. But we both need to quit, and I think it’s best if we do it together.”

“Well how are we supposed to do that,” you whisper.

“Come on, let’s get started,” you and Spencer exit his car, he loops your hands together, leading you up to his apartment. When you get there, he digs through his messenger bag and grabs a couple of tiny glass bottles and a syringe. He throws them into his garbage can, and turns to look at you.

“Pull out your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to block Randall’s number.”

You want to fight him on it, but you know he’s right. You need to leave Randall, and now’s as good of a time as any. Yet, you can’t forget the things he’s said to you. “I can’t Spencer, he’s my boyfriend, he loves me.”

“Y/N, please, please do this with me.” You shake your head, he sighs. “Okay, I get it, this is going to take time. Just, um, stay with me for a couple days. Please. We can go get your stuff tomorrow night.”

You think about rejecting Spencer’s offer, but you really don’t want to go back there. More than anything, you want to stay right here. You try to tell yourself it’s because you’re worried about Spencer, but deep down you know it’s more than that. So you nod, and Spencer wraps you in a hug, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Y/N. Now let’s go get your hands wrapped up.”

9:21 PM, May 2nd, 2007.

You’ve been staying at Spencer’s for just over a week now. You haven’t seen Randall since your anniversary, and Spencer hasn’t taken dilaudid while you’ve been here. Things are going well. You’re watching a lot of bad reality TV, and Spencer has gone through about 7 packs of Gatorade, but you’re both doing okay.

Now you were just waiting for him to come back from his case in Idaho, you knew this one was pretty bad. They were searching for a woman in the middle of a huge forest, as she was being hunted and chased down. Spencer called you right before getting on the jet, and told you he would be home soon, so now you were just waiting for him.

While doing so however, you found something. A lump on Spencer’s side of the mattress. Under it, were two small glass bottles and a syringe. The same ones you had seen Spencer throw into the garbage days prior.

Now you need to talk to Spencer, so you sit on his couch, and wait for him to come home. When he comes through the door, he immediately sees you and smiles. “Y/N! I’ve missed you.” He hugs you, and for a second you forget why you’re even mad at him in the first place.

“Spencer, I need to talk to you. I found your bottles.” The mood in the room instantly shifts, but you don’t care, you need to get your words out. “You told me you were quitting, I watched you throw them away.”

He brushes his hairs through his hair, and begins to mess with his hands. “I am quitting Y/N, I haven't taken any, but. . . I just need them to be there.”

“Spencer, please, throw them away. I’m trying to help you here.” Suddenly he grows very angry, and you can tell you said the wrong thing.

“Well I’m trying too. To me it seems the only one not trying is you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you still haven’t blocked Randall, he still calls all the time! Why do I have to throw my addiction away if you can’t even do the same to yours?”

“That's not fair.”

“How so?” he yells. “How is it that you can’t block your abusive, no good piece of shit boyfriend but I have to throw away the things I enjoy? That doesn’t feel like trying to me.”

“I’m not addicted to Randall Spencer, I just love him. I don’t want or need to quit him.”

“Oh really? Then why are you even still here? Why haven’t you answered his calls? Or gone to see him? I think you know exactly why.”

And you do. You don’t want to go back there, but what Randall says is true. He is the only one who will love you, and you’re not ready to lose that yet. You’re not ready to cut off all contact with him.

“I can leave if that’s what you want Spencer.”

His face softened, “no, that’s not what I want. That’s the last thing I want.” He stops and thinks for a moment. “If you block Randall I’ll throw away my dilaudid.”

You ponder it, “Okay.”

He breaks into a wide smile. “Really? You’ll do it?”

You smile at him.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll block Randall.”

6:56 PM, May 30th, 2007.

You did not block Randall.

Even after watching Spencer pour out his bottles, breaking up the glass and tossing it away for a second time, you couldn’t. Even after seeing him snap his syringes in half, and feeling him kiss your forehead, after seeing how happy and excited he was for your fresh start together, you just couldn’t do it.

Spencer thought you did, and it was easy to hide the truth from him. Randall hadn’t called since then, so you and Spencer continue to spend time together, last week you celebrated one month of sobriety. You got an ice cream cake and little, silly party hats and exchanged gifts.

And it made you feel like shit.

Spencer was so happy, so proud that you had both been clean for a month, but you still couldn’t decide if you wanted to be clean at all.

You still can’t decide if you should block Randall’s number.

You try not to think about it, instead focusing the energy into making you and Spencer virgin pina coladas, he was currently out picking up burgers from your favorite restaurant. When he returns, you were going to watch one of your crappy reality TV reruns, and then an episode of Doctor Who. It was Spencer’s idea a couple days ago, and quickly it became a regular occurrence.

Faintly over the loud whir of the blender you can hear your phone ringing. You run quickly to go grab it, just in case Spencer needed your help with something, but your heart drops when you see the caller ID. It’s Randall, trying once again to contact you.

Your thumb hovers over the accept button, but before you can make a decision, the call times out and sends Randall to voicemail. You let out a breath and set your phone down.

But then something possesses you, and you snatch your phone and dial Randall’s number. He picks up on the 3rd ring.

“Baby, oh my god baby is that really you?”

He sounds so excited to hear from you, how could you have stayed mad at him for so long?

“Yes baby, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls at all. I’ve been busy.”

“Don’t worry sweetness, I’m so so sorry for the things I said to you, I need you to come home. You missed our anniversary you know? But it’s okay! We can celebrate now! I got you a really beautiful gift, one we can definitely experiment with tonight.” You could hear his smirk over the phone.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to come back right now, maybe later baby, but not right now.”

You hear his breathing pick up, and tense. You can tell he’s getting agitated. He wasn’t expecting you to answer like that, you always come home as soon as he tells you you can come back. “What do you mean? You’re being ridiculous, I want to see my girlfriend. I’m sure you want to get off of the streets too, you’ve been squatting for over a month now.”

“I’m not squatting Randall, I’m living with Spencer.”

“What!?” he yells. “I thought I told you not to stay with him. I hate that guy, you know that.”

“Would you rather me be on the streets Randall? Spencer’s a great guy, and I want to stay here.”

“Frankly, yes I would. But don’t worry, you can still come home. Just send me the prick’s address and I’ll come pick you up. We can enjoy tonight together.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not going to send you Spencer’s address. I’m staying here. I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone Randall. I’m done.”

Before he could say anything, you hung up. As you did so you heard the front door open, and Spencer made his way to the bedroom.

“Hey! I got burgers! Ready to eat?” he looks down to see your phone still resting in your hand, stuck on the phone app. “Who were you talking to?”

“Just an old friend,” you say.

“Think you’ll be talking to them again anytime soon?” you can tell he knows, and you’re surprised he isn’t lashing out at you. You’re so used to how Randall reacts when you go against his wishes, Spencer’s calm, understanding presence is like a breath of fresh air.

“No, I think I’m ready to leave them behind,” you smile at each other. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a sec okay?”

He nods, and goes to set up the food and TV.

It takes you seven seconds to block Randall.

1:12 AM, June 10th, 2007.

You haven’t gone out with your coworkers in months, you forgot how good it feels to just be present with people. You didn’t even drink tonight, wanting to remember every second of this time out with friends. You were beaming when you unlocked the front door.

Yet your smile slips when you enter what had become you and Spencer’s shared bedroom.

He isn’t there.

You pull out your phone to call him when you hear a thud coming from the bathroom door. You hesitate, scared of what you know you’ll likely find. When you finally throw the door open you’re already teary eyed, and these sobs escalate as soon as you see Spencer, tipped over, lying on the bathroom floor, the needle still sticking out of his arm.

You’re sobbing as you rip it out, hastily undoing the belt wrapped around his upper forearm. He looks up, even in his groggy haze you can see the guilty look in his eyes when they made contact with yours.

“Y/N. . . I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me but I just couldn’t stop myself . . . I-”

“Shhh, It’s okay, just breathe,” you whisper through your tears. “It’s going to be okay Spencer, I’m here, and it’s going to be okay. I’m staying right here.” You pull his head into your lap, stroking your shaking hands through his hair.

His head begins to shake, and you can feel his tears on your dress. You rest your head on his, and for a few seconds you just sit there, crying together.

“You’re going to be okay Spencer.”

8:09 AM, June 11th, 2007.

Your head is buried in his chest, you need to be able to hear him breathe. You need to hear his heart beating. You need to be as close to him as possible right now. He stirs as he wakes up, and wraps his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“Don’t apologize Spencer, this is a part of recovery okay? You’re still in recovery, just because you relapsed doesn’t mean we have to start over. You’re so much stronger than you were before. So much braver. So much better. You can do this.”

He smiles at you, “thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course, now withdrawal is going to be even harder this time. I’m going to the store. We’re going to need plenty of Gatorade and water. We have to flush everything out of your system. Do you mind if I take your car to the store?”

He beams, even in his groggy state he manages to look so perfect, “You know my car is always yours to use Y/N.”

“I’ll be back soon okay? Don’t move a muscle,” you grab his keys and head out the door. And you really do mean it, you fully intend this to be the shortest grocery trip of your life. You’re terrified of leaving Spencer alone long enough to get high again, even though you spent all day yesterday searching for drugs and throwing anything you found in the garbage, taking it out the main apartment dumpster that night.

You get to the store, grab everything you need, 3 packs of blue Gatorade, 6 cases of water bottles, and the store’s entire stock of Jell-O and rush back to Spencer’s car. You were only in the store for 17 minutes, the majority of which was just check-out time. You smile, thinking of how excited Spencer will be when he sees all the Jell-O in the fridge, but feel your stomach drop when you see a familiar face examining Spencer’s car.

Randall.

Before you can decide what to do, he turns and sees you.

“Y/N! I was expecting Spencer, but this is even sweeter. I knew I recognized this hunk of junk. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been around, I’m kind of on a tight schedule here. I really need to get going,” you say as you load up your groceries into Spencer’s trunk.

“That’s a lot of Jell-O sweetheart, you hate Jell-O.” That’s not even true. You hate pudding, you love Jell-O.

As much as you wanted to yell at him for calling you sweetheart, you couldn’t deny that it felt good. You still missed him. Blocking him helped, but you still felt strong urges to call him sometimes. “It’s not for me, it’s for Spencer.”

“I thought I told you not to stay with him anymore.”

“What part of that conversation would make you think I would listen to you?” you say.

“You should always listen to me Y/N, I’m your boyfriend.”

“I haven’t seen you in months, we’re not dating anymore. I’m done.”

“You don’t mean that you’re just being irrational. Are you on your period? I bet that’s it. Come get breakfast with me. You probably just need chocolate, and the place down the block has incredible chocolate waffles.”

You open your mouth to reject him, but you can’t. Part of it is because you know if you do then he’ll follow you back to your apartment and the last thing you want is for him to know where you’re living right now. But the other part is much worse. A big part of you wants to let him try again. You can’t explain why, but you really want for him to redeem himself as your first love.

“Ok, you have 20 minutes, let’s go get breakfast.”

The walk there is silent and awkward. Randall grabs your hand, too tight for you to do anything about it, and keeps this grip until you sit down in your booth.

You don’t get chocolate waffles. You really don’t even like chocolate all that much. Randall knows that, or at least you thought he did. Instead you get cinnamon french toast, and within minutes it’s at the table.

“You know baby, Spencer doesn’t love you.” He says halfway through your french toast.

“We aren’t dating Randall.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been with him in that apartment for a while now. I’m surprised he hasn’t given you the boot.”

You sit in silence, Randall takes this as a sign to continue. “We’ve been together for five years, sweetness. No one can love you the way I do. That’s just a fact. Spencer fucking Reid can not replace me, no one can replace me.”

“I hate that you’re right. I hate that I can’t breathe when I’m not with you Randall. I hate that you’re stuck to me. You’re this god awful stain on my life. I hate looking at it but no matter what I do I can’t wash it off.”

He smirks. “You’re not gonna get rid of me Y/N.” He pays the check, and gets up from the table. You go to get up too, but notice he didn’t tip your waitress, so you leave another five bucks on the table.

When you get outside he grasps your shoulders. “I knew you would come around Y/N, I knew you would get it. Now come on, we can go collect your stuff from that prick’s apartment and get you home. I know exactly how you can make it up to me.”

You pause, “I don’t think so Randall. I’m not ready quite yet, but I promise I’ll call you.” You meant it, you had already unblocked him from your phone.

“Oh absolutely not, you’re going home with me now.”

“No I’m not.” As you were yelling at each other you notice a strangely familiar face standing nearby, just in ear shot. You can’t place him, but you know you’ve met before.

“Yes you are! We’re happy together and you’re coming to live with me again!”

“We don’t love each other, Randall! Not right now at least!”

He’s livid, and once again you feel that scared, indescribable feeling in the pit of your stomach. “That’s not true! I’ll prove it to you.” He grabs your chin and pulls your face to his.

You feel as if water is filling your lungs, you’re drowning and no one is around to save you. Randall is physically stronger than you, you’re stuck in his grasp. It’s like you’re screaming and no one can hear you.

And yet, this flood of emotions you’re feeling is the first time you realize something.

You’re addicted to Randall.

You need to get out.

You need to get back to Spencer.

After what feels like minutes (but is actually about 3 seconds) of being unseen and vulnerable, you discover you’ve been protected the whole time. The man you can't place rips Randall off of you, “What’s wrong with you? Get off of her!”

It’s his voice that lets you place him. Derek Morgan, Spencer’s closest friend and coworker, punches Randall in the face. “Get out of here!”

“What the fuck is wrong with YOU? That’s my girlfriend! Sweetheart, tell him to leave us alone!”

They both turn and look at you, with tears in your eyes you look at Morgan and shake your head. “Please, get him to leave.”

And Morgan does just that, with a little yelling and a flash of his FBI badge, Randall is running for the hills.

“Come on baby girl, let’s get you back home. Did you walk here?”

You shake your head, “No, I drove Spencer’s car here.”

“Well, how bout I drive you home, and then afterwards I swing back and get Spencer’s car and drop it off?”

So you do just that. After profusely thanking Morgan, and him insisting that it was nothing, and also insisting to carry your groceries in from the car, you and Spencer are together once again.

“I’m so sorry Spencer, I didn’t believe you before. I was going to go back to him. How could I be so stupid?”

“Don’t talk like that Y/N, you said it best yourself. Just because you relapse doesn’t mean you aren’t trying, and it most certainly doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

“I think it’s time we get clean Spencer. Both of us, once and for all.”

“I think so too Y/N.”

He pulls you into a hug and in between sniffles you manage to choke out what you’ve been wanting to say since you got into Morgan’s car. “I love you.”

He looks at you, and the look in his eyes almost makes you cry out of pure joy. He looks so happy, as if he’s been waiting for you to say that for years.

Maybe he has.

“I love you too.”

7:29 AM, April 16th, 2008.

You press your lips to Spencer’s, you know he has just woken up, but you know it’s a big day for him.

You both have been sober for over ten months now. Today is the day of his first group meeting. He found Beltway Clean Cops recently, and has been so excited to go. You’re excited for him. You know how proud he is of you, and you want to show him in every way possible that you’re proud of him.

He opens his eyes and smiles up at you. “What did I deserve to get a wake up like that?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re incredible, and an incredible boyfriend deserves an incredible morning. Do you know what else he deserves?”

He hums and waits for the answer.

“An incredible breakfast! That’s why I made blueberry pancakes. Now hurry up and come eat. You should leave soon if you want to make it to your meeting on time. Have I told you yet how incredibly proud I am of you?”

He smiles, “Only an average of 15.6 times a day since I told you I was going.”

“Well that’s not nearly enough, now come on, get up. It’s pancake time,” you say. “Oh, and Spencer?”

“Yes flower?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles, “I love you flower.”

“I love you more.”

You ate breakfast together and then forced Spencer out the door, making sure he had plenty of time to get to his meeting. You knew he would regret it if he was late.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you still thought about Randall a lot. You still missed him. You still love him in a way. But now that you had Spencer, now that you were clean together, you would never risk going back to him.

That day where you agreed to go to breakfast with him, Derek asked you if you wanted to press charges. You didn’t, you don’t regret that either.

You’re even more proud of yourself this way, because you know he’s still there, still accessible and available to you, and still didn’t run to him. You know that any trace of Randall in your future is gone.

You know you and Spencer are finally clean.

“Ten months sober, I must admit Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it Ten months older I won't give in Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencerreidxreader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #reid x reader #criminal minds reid #reid fanfic #reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds angst

333 notes · View notes

linorachas · 3 years

Text

track 01. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x gn!reader ⁍ genre — fluff, hurt and comfort ⁍ word count — 2.6k words ⁍ details — established relationship, kisses!!!, self-doubt on reader's part ⁍ notes — this fic was supposed to be a drabble, but i may have gotten carried away because it hit close to home and maybe i need reassurance from chan Too ok damn. this one is for anon, and for every person out there who didn't get the results that they wanted, big or small. bear hugs from me and chan. you did well ♥️ ⁍ the mixtape series — this series will be for my fics that are heavily inspired by songs! i'm a very music-oriented person, so expect more of these in the future. ⁍ summary — Chan was there for you. It was that simple.

♬ now playing:

when you love someone (day 6) ⤷ on queue: grow up (skz)

Chan knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the door.

He should have no reason to know, really. Your days started off on a good note, sweet kisses exchanged and promises made before he left for work. You texted him sporadically throughout the day, but the texts tapered off sometime after lunch.

He hadn’t thought anything of it then, but now that he’s seen you, it took every bit of his strength to not just shake your shoulders and ask you what was wrong so he could fix it and make it better and destroy whatever it is that upset you.

He knew you liked to play your problems off like they were nothing, brushing it off in fear that you would bother the people around you. You would ignore all your problems and let it boil over if you could. And he knew this was one of those times, because you hadn’t texted him about it. Greeted him at the front door like normal, distracted him with your bright smiles and kisses that leave him breathless.

But… he sees the way your smile tightened.

The way you blinked rapidly when you thought he wasn’t looking, staring up at the ceiling to try and alleviate the stinging in your eyes. He sees it in the way you wore your (his) comfiest sweater and turned on your comfort show at a loud volume, as if you were doing all your favorite things to convince both Chan and yourself that you were fine.

But he also saw how none of these things worked, and that you were hiding something, and it was hurting you.

“Minho called today,” you start talking as you both walk to the kitchen, and Chan finds you had already prepared dinner. You bustle around the kitchen, telling him about Minho’s trip to the vet with Dori, Jeongin’s new hobby, Hyunjin’s current drama obsession.

You talk and you talk, finding little things to do, like moving the cereal box and rearranging condiments. Chan moves to get the rice like he always does, but the ache in his heart slows his movements.

He didn’t like seeing you like this, putting up a front for him. He didn’t mind you hiding what was wrong. He understood that it was hard for you to talk about your problems, and he wasn’t going to push for you to do so. But it didn’t sit right with him that you had to put on a smile, when you were clearly struggling.

So he bites the bullet.

“Baby,” he calls, stopping you mid-rant. He knew eye contact made you nervous, especially with the question he’s about to ask, so Chan keeps his gaze trained on the rice cooker. He scoops out the rice methodically, keeping his voice light. “Did something happen today?”

You laugh, but even you can feel the nerves in it. “Nothing much, Channie. I’m fine! Anyway, I really thought they’d have it, you know. It was all over the internet. I’d have ordered it online, but shipping seemed too expensive. Some of the-“

“Stop it.”

You freeze at Chan’s tone, and you turn around slowly to see him frowning at the counter, bowl placed down. You meet eyes when he turns to look at you too, but he softens immediately when he sees how caught off guard you were, eyes still wide.

With a sad smile, he shuffles closer to you, reaching for your hand. But he stops before he actually gets to touch it, looking at you cautiously as if asking for permission to hold you.

Your heart throbbed.

As soon as you manage a shaky nod, Chan takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers together. He takes your other hand as well, but this one he brings up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

Heart stuttering, you croak, “Chan-“

“I’m here.” Chan reassures firmly, as if it was that simple. He tears through the walls you’ve built up the entire day, like they were made of cardboard instead of concrete. The stinging in your eyes worsens, because maybe it was that simple.

Chan was here. He was here, and maybe you were safe now, maybe you could let yourself cry for a bit, maybe you could let him hold you and you could forget, maybe-

He sighs, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh earlier. You can tell me to leave and I will, but I’ll be right outside that door until you allow me inside again. I’m right here, Y/N.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, but this one is longer.

Lips brushing against your palm, he promises, “Whatever it is, I’m right here with you.”

And the dam breaks.

You don’t register the tears rapidly flowing down your cheeks until you see the way Chan panics, and the sight would have made you laugh any other time, but unfortunately you were too busy crying your heart out. Chan makes a wounded noise when he gathers you up in his arms, and your hands clutch at his shirt desperately, finding your safe space in the crook of his neck.

You hiccup and you sob and you shake, but all Chan does is hold you tighter and tighter, almost like he was holding together the pieces that were slowly breaking off you.

Like it was that simple.

He doesn’t say anything, except for the occasional hushing when you choke on a sob. One of his hands was wrapped snugly around your waist, keeping you close, while the other stayed at the back of your head. He was shielding you like this, hiding you away from the world that hurt you so much.

He starts swaying once your sobs die down. He rocks you back and forth slowly, humming under his breath just so you could have some music to sway to. It distracts you, and focusing on his humming eventually leads you to focus on your own breathing too.

You only pull away once his nails start gently scratching your scalp, afraid you would fall asleep on him if he continues any longer. You look up at him then, with puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks, and Chan— who was never the one to resort to violence first— feels a lick of immediate anger deep in his soul for the person, or the thing, or whatever it was that made you like this.

Meanwhile, you look mournfully at the big wet patch on Chan’s shirt, berating yourself for being gross. Chan follows your gaze and laughs softly. He tears your gaze away from it by tilting your head up, two fingers under your chin. You meet his gaze and sniffle, apologetic.

“I’ll make you wash that later.” Chan’s nose scrunches, smiling at you playfully. Your lips quirk at that for a quick second, but the relief that washes over Chan at the miniscule expression was massive.

Brushing your hair away from your face, he sighs, “Now who made my baby cry, huh? I’ll beat them up for you. Really.”

You snort, about to tell him he couldn’t even hurt a fly, but then a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again just from the question alone and Chan coos as he brings you back in your arms.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I’m not forcing you. We don’t have to talk about it, okay?”

You shake your head at that, face still buried in his chest. It’s not that you didn’t want to tell him, you were just…

You hiccup, furiously wiping at your tears as you pull away. Chan’s face was so open, so understanding and so ready to fight whatever upset you that the worlds bubble up in your throat before you could stop them.

Fuck it.

You face Chan again, steeling yourself as you whisper, brokenly;

“I didn’t get it.”

A look of realization and shock flickers on Chan’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. It’s replaced with understanding, his gentle smile just coaxing more tears out of you. He cups your face between his two hands, shushing you.

“Oh, my baby.” He sighs, brushing your tears away with his thumb. He opens his mouth to ask how he can help, but surprisingly, you keep talking.

“It’s just so stupid.” You start, and then the words just don’t stop. “I feel so stupid. I know I shouldn’t be crying over this because I have other applications and- and-“

“Don’t say that,” Chan frowns, not wanting to interrupt you but also not wanting to hear you say you were stupid. “You’re allowed to cry over anything. No matter how big or small it is. There are no rules about what you should or shouldn’t cry to. I know how much you wanted that, Y/N.” He shakes his head, “You have every right to be upset.”

You swallow, letting Chan’s words sink into your bones. Exhaling shakily, your hands come up to grip his wrists.

“Everybody— my other friends, they kept telling me that I did my best, and I should just focus on the fact that I gave it my all, but if I— if I did my best, if I gave everything I had, why didn’t I…” you trail off, looking at Chan imploringly, as if he knew the answers to your question. “Chan, why didn’t they-“

You’re wrapped in another tight hug before you could finish your sentence, Chan pulling you so close that not even air could get between you two. His grip should be suffocating with how tight it was, but it just made you feel more safe. Secured. Protected.

Loved.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” Chan asks when he pulls away, eyes searching your face desperately.

He hated seeing you like this, but most of all, he hated knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. This wasn’t something he could change with a snap of a finger, or something he could avenge you for. But hell would freeze over first before he’d let you deal with this alone.

“You,” you finally croak out, falling into the safety of his arms again. Here, nothing could hurt you. Here, you were safe. “Just you. Please.”

And his heart breaks.

Chan swallows, feeling that same lick of anger rise up again. But he pushes it down, because nothing else mattered in the world right now but you.

He coaxes you out of the kitchen, hands still intertwined as he leads you to your bedroom. He sits on the middle of the bed first, leaning back against the headboard. Then he opens his arms wide, and you crawl into his lap, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

The hand he slips under your shirt makes you shudder, but there was nothing sexual about it. You’ve unknowingly been cold all day, the nerves from waiting for that damn email somehow lowering your body temperature and forcing you to bundle up. Just an hour ago, you had wanted nothing but to curl up under a blanket and hide from the world, shivering. But now, Chan felt like a furnace, and for every place that his hand touches, your skin warmed.

You didn’t need to hide now, because Chan was here.

It was that simple.

Chan takes your hand again, bringing it up to his lips. He presses a kiss to each of your fingernails, even tilting his head so he could kiss the thumb. He’s smiling as he does it, with that goofy little smile he does when he’s trying to act cute and make you smile. You’ve long stopped trying to discern if the smile you do end up making is because of his cuteness, or because he looked kind of hilarious.

Today, you realize it’s because you love him.

And another smile is tugged out of you again, because you’re reminded that he loves you.

It shows when he presses gentle kisses to the palm and the back of your hand too, down to your wrist. He shows it again when a cool draft of wind comes in through your open bedroom window, and Chan’s already throwing the covers over the both of you before you could even shiver.

He shows it once more when he captures your lips in a chaste kiss, and it’s still as sweet as the first one you ever shared, when you were both nervous but just as in love.

“You’re allowed to hurt.” Chan whispers after you guys spend a few minutes of silence just basking each other in, Chan rocking you side to side, his cheek pressed on top of your head. “You’re allowed to cry. I don’t want you to ever think that you can’t be upset about this. Yes, you did do your best, and that’s something to be proud of. But it still hurts here, doesn’t it?”

He touches your intertwined hands to your chest, right where your heart was located. You nod shakily. He smiles softly.

“So let it hurt. Let it hurt now, and when it passes- when, baby.” he looks you in the eye, determined and sure, “remember this: when. Not if. Never if. Because this will pass, and we’re going to get up tomorrow and find you other options. We’ll continue tomorrow and we’ll find another way like we always do. You’re doing well. You’re doing just fine, and I know you’re doing your best. But for now, you let it hurt so you can heal from it…”

Despite himself, Chan’s voice breaks. Because even though letting you hurt now was essential, that didn’t mean he liked it. He wished desperately for some kind of way to transfer your pain to him, just for a moment.

The stinging in your eyes comes back on full force again, but this time for an entirely different reason. Chan catches the teardrop by your lash line before it could even roll down your cheek.

“...and I will be right here with you.”

He promises, nose nudging against yours gently. Your eyes flutter close when Chan leans up to press his lips against your forehead, muttering even more promises. He intended to keep every single one of them.

It didn’t matter that it seemed unrealistic to promise so many things. Chan would fight tooth and nail to live up to those promises, if it meant putting a smile on your face. He’d do just about anything if it meant seeing your lips twitch or your eyes gleam or your cheeks flush over and over again.

Your gestures and expressions were things he learned to take note of early in your relationship, ever since he realized you liked putting up a front. Every day, he learns something new about what a certain gesture or expression meant, and every day he falls in love with each of them a little bit more.

So to see such a pained, guarded expression on your face; it drove him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to find the source of your pain and make them suffer too, no matter how illogical that sounded.

But then your hand twitches again his, your hair tickling him from where you’ve buried your face on his neck, and he remembers that you need him right now.

You needed him to stay, and he was more than willing to do so. He didn’t mind if his body ached in this position, or if he had to stay up all night to distract you from your thoughts. It didn’t matter if you wanted to go out in the middle of the night for a distraction, or if you wanted to stay and shut yourselves in. He’d do all of it in a heartbeat.

Just so he could ease the pain in your chest, even just for a little bit.

Because it was simple: he loves you, and whatever you wanted to do and wherever you wanted to go…

You will always, always have him.

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan fluff #skz imagines #stray kids au #bang chan #storiesatsea #cottoncandy #i neglected ftw2 for this #requested #bang chan au #can you spot the lyrics from grow up #header bg from wyls mv hehe #ahh thank u for 100 followers!!#stray kids as boyfriends #stray kids #skz #bang chan imagines

360 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

you said forever

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: swearing, a little fluffy, but mainly just pure angst, [spoiler alert] no happy ending Word Count: 2k Request/Summary: @mgglover: “fic based on Olivia Rodrigos new song Drivers license where Reid and Reader broke up and reader still loves him (he feels the same and it was just circumstance or not) and then JJ confesses her love to Reid and Reader is distraught.”

“Here you go, your black bow tie.” You said, handing Spencer a small box. His fingers brushed gently against yours as he grabbed the box causing the air to hitch briefly in your throat.

“I’m sorry it took so long.” You added. “It was buried deep at the back of our- ehm my wardrobe.” A small nervous smile circled your lips. Spencer smiled back at you. “It’s okay Y/N. Thank you.”

He placed the item on his desk before looking back at you. “You didn't have to come all this way though. I could have stopped by our- ehm your place later to pick it up.” You waved your hand dissuasively. “I just thought it would be easier, in case you got called onto a case or something.” You replied, although the real reason was much more simple than that. You just wanted to see him.

Spencer nodded. He glanced around the empty bullpen before turning his attention back to you; unsure of what to say next.

The two of you used to be able to talk for hours on end, about everything and nothing all at once. Now whenever you saw each other, as rare as these meetings were, you bit your tongue afraid to say the wrong thing. Start another argument perhaps. The brunette doctor did the same.

It was heartbreaking really, because you still loved him. Deeply.

“I better get going.” You said, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence that has enveloped around you. “Have fun at the wedding and please wish the happy couple my congratulations.” Spencer smiled. “Thanks Y/N, and don’t worry I will.”

With one last longing look, you turned swiftly on your heel and headed for the exit. You pressed the button for the elevator and waited patiently for it to arrive. And as you waited, the brunette doctor snuck up behind you.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name escaping his lips was enough to make your heart skip a beat. You turned to face him again. “I was wondering...” Spencer cleared his throat. “I thought maybe you'd like to accompany me to the wedding?” He asked. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I don’t kno-”

“I mean that was the plan before we broke up, and I know Rossi would love to have you there.” Spencer paused, and observed your features for a reaction. Which he hoped would be a pleasant one.

“Are you sure Spencer? Won’t that be weird for us?” You questioned but the the hazel-eyed doctor shook his head. “University of Kansas released a study that shows sixty percent of people maintain a friendship after a breakup.” “And you think we can fit within that bracket?” You asked quietly.

“We should at least try because-” He paused and you immediately noticed the hesitation in his eyes. He swallowed. “Well, truth be told Y/NI miss spending time with you.” You couldn't help but smile. “I miss spending time with you too Spencer.” “Really?” He asked, a hint of confusion to his voice. He thought after what transpired you would never want to see him again.

“Of course. Who else will take me to see midnight showings of black and white documentaries on various battles I have never heard of, or The Cheese Mites, or Global Air Routes.” Spencer chuckled. “I can't believe you remember The Cheese Mites.” “Are you kidding? That two minute video is the reason I don’t eat blue cheese anymore.” The grin on your face spread a little wider. “Which is probably best for my digestive system anyway.”

The hazel-eyed doctor smirked. “That it definitely is.”

The elevator door opened with a slight ding; bring you back to reality. With an inaudible sigh, you stepped inside. You peered back at Spencer and positioned your hand on the edge of the metal door, holding it so it wouldn't close yet.

“I’d love to go to the wedding with you Spencer.” “You would?” You nodded in response. “Do you want to meet there or-” Spencer politely cut you off. “I’ll pick you up.”

You let your hand fall and took a step backwards. With a warm smile, you bid him farewell. “See you then Spencer.” "Bye Y/N.”

The door closed. It was then you realised the silly smile greeting your facial features and just how happy and hopeful you were suddenly feeling. Shit.

A week has passed and no word from the brunette doctor. You texted him a couple of times, just to check in, but no response. You began to feel stupid, foolish even. Spencer was probably doubting the whole thing. You should have known his invite was too good to be true.

With a wine glass in hand, you starred blankly at your phone hoping it would suddenly ring. Hoping his name would illuminate your screen like it did a million times before. How stupid, how foolish.

There was a chance he was away on a case, of course you considered that. His hectic schedule and lack of communication has been the cause of many fights in the past. Which is why you began to feel slightly angry, primarily with yourself but also with the hazel-eyed doctor.

A sigh escaped your lips. You took the last sip of your wine, and gently placed the glass in the sink before heading to the bedroom. Within the hour you were showered and ready for bed. It was then your phone rang, finally.

“Hello?” You picked up eagerly.

“Hi Y/N. I’m sorry for calling so late.” Spencer replied, the tone of his voice soothing as always. “Actually, I’m sorry for only calling now. We were in Los Angeles on a case.”

“That’s okay.” You whispered back. A lie. A big fat lie. Yet you knew omitting the truth was better than getting into a silly argument.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you think that maybe I could come over? There uhm, there is something I nee-d to tell you.”

“S-sure, sure.” “Great. I’ll be there soon.” And like that the call ended just as quickly as it started.

You picked out a random clean hoodie from your dresser and returned back to the living room where you waited patiently for Spencer to arrive.

Obviously, you wondered what he wanted to talk about. Could it be about you? About your past? Maybe your future? A thought crossed your mind. What if he wanted to get back together?

You shook your head. No. Spencer made it quite clear when the two of you broke up that would never happen. He said you were better off alone, and perhaps that was true. But then again, why would he suggest maintaining a friendship with you if that was the case?

Sound of the doorbell whisked you away from your thoughts and brought you back to reality. You hurried over and greeted the brunette doctor with a shy smile. Without saying a word, you invited him inside and the two of you sat down on the couch.

A weird atmosphere circled the room. You couldn't help but feel uneasy about what was about to be said. The last time you felt this way, your love story was coming to a tragic end.

“Is everything okay Spencer?” You asked quietly. He nodded slowly, although avoided your gaze.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?” You asked, concern spreading through your body. Without really thinking you reached for his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. The sudden contact caused the doctor to snap his head in your direction. His eyes locked with yours, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Something did happen.” Spencer began. And as he spoke, he gently traced circled on your hand with your thumb. “There was a hostage situation, and-” “A hostage situation?” You interrupted. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm okay.” He reassured. “That’s not what I came here to say.”

Spencer swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and began to explain. He started with the details of the case, leaving out the more gruesome details because he knew how much you disliked those. He moved onto the hostage situation he found himself in with JJ, and the game.

His tone of voice changed; you noticed it immediately.

“I know we’re over, but in the spirit of trying to remain friends I wanted to be honest with you.” Spencer stated. “JJ admitted-” He gulped. “She ehm- she admitted as part of the game, that she- she’s always loved me.”

You blinked, hand slipping in slow motion out of his grasp. His words ringing in your ears. A gut wrenching feeling twisting your insides, making you incredibly nauseous. Your worst nightmare coming true.

“She said, she said she was too scared to say it before and things were too complicated now.” “Stop.” You whispered but Spencer continued. “She said that I should-” “Stop it!” You jumped to your feet and frustratingly ran your fingers through your hair.

“Y/N...”

“You told me, Spencer you told me many times that I had nothing to worry about when it came to JJ.” Frustration levels rising. Spencer also got up, he reached out to grab you but you took a step back. The hazel-eyed man sighed.

“I swear I didn't know before she felt that way. You have to believe me Y/N.” He took a step toward you, maintaining stern eye contact. He once again tried to take your hand in his, however as soon as his fingers brushed against yours you yanked your hand back.

“I don't believe you.” You muttered. Hot tears began to escape the corners of your eyes, they burned your skin as they traveled down your cheeks. “You’re a profiler, and you literally spend every day with her.”

A broken look spread across the brunette doctor’s face, one to match the complete despair currently gracing your features.

“That’s not fair Y/N.”

“Not fair? Are you fucking kidding me?!” Anger levels spiking. “Fuck Spencer, when we were together you spent more time with her than you did with me!”

“Because we work together!”

“That is a pathetic excuse Spencer and you know it! When we were dating, she always made me doubt! She's older, she knows you longer than me.” The salty tears reached your lips, you began to feel choked up. “JJ is everything I have always been insecure about!”

“Which is why I wanted to come here and tell you what happened in person.”

“No.” You shook your head. “You only came here to ease the guilt.”

“Y/N, please, I am begging you.” The brunette doctor grabbed your wrist before you got a chance to pull away. He held onto you tight, yet not to hurt you. He placed his free hand on your cheek, and for a split second you leaned into his touch.

“Get out.” You whispered while closing your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. “Get out of my house Spencer.”

“This used to be our house Y/N.” He mumbled back. “Or did you forget that?”

You scoffed, opening your eyes to meet his gaze again. “You said forever, and then you left. So from where I’m standing it seems you are the one who forgot Spencer.”

The sentence seemed to stung the hazel-eyed man. His jaw clenched as he let his arms fall back down to his sides. You watched silently, wiping the wet tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, as Spencer made his way to the front door.

He turned to look at you once again. For a moment, a brief moment, you could have sworn you noticed a genuine hurt in his eyes.

“I know we weren't perfect Y/N.” Pause. “But believe me or not, I have never felt this way for no-one.”

And he was gone. The door shut with a loud bang causing you to jump slightly in your spot. Nausea. Nausea crusaded through your veins. You let out a deep long breath, one you didn't even realise you were holding.

He loved you. It was clear now that’s what he came here to say, and you kicked him out. You pushed him away. Forever.

It was over. Completely, and utterly over.

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor

masterlist

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid songfic #dr spencer reid #songfic #spencer reid imagine

398 notes · View notes

kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Text

The Blood King and his Queen [7]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter because I think its my favorite chapter so far! FYI, if I don't update this series in a while, it'll be because I am working on an 18+ oneshot for a collab for Bakugou's birthday. So if that does happen, the regular uploads will happen after Bakugou's birthday. And let me tell you, its going to be S P I C Y~

But I can't express how surprised I am by all the love I'm receiving! I really wish I could respond to all your comments, but again, this is my side blog so I can't comment! If ya'll want to follow me on my main... please dont. LOL not to be mean or anything but I don't use my main at all and I don't post ever so there's no point in following me there :)

PLEASE ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG! JOIN THE FAMILY!

[previous] [next]

Your heart physically dropped when he said that. You felt sick. Your palms were sweating and shaking. The air around you grew dense and you felt like you couldn’t breath. You couldn’t move for that matter.

Ruin?

What would he do to you if he found out that you weren’t really a princess? That you were a fake lying to him this whole time. It made you sick, just imaging every cruel thing he could do once he found out. But then you remembered, he wasn’t like all the rumors you heard. He was different. He was kind and understanding. He wouldn’t really ruin you if he found out, would he? You shook away the thought. The more you think about it, the more you were likely to get caught.

You were completely exhausted from all that labor you produced in a week’s time. Town after town, you were able to help his people even if it was just a little bit. But it sure depleted a lot of energy out of you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this drained before in your entire life. It’s not like you had to do hard physical labor back at the palace. This experience was hard on you but also gave you insight on the prince and his kingdom.

Completely drained of your energy, you sat down on one of the tree trunks his soldiers brought for you at the camp not far away from the village you were at. The impoverished village didn’t have enough shelter as is, so you were left with no option but to set up your own shelter. It wasn’t a big deal to you anyway since that’s how you’ve been spending your nights so far.

All the soldiers had gathered around to take a breather for the night and drink away the stress. You weren’t a drinker, but enjoyed the atmosphere the soldiers created: fun and rowdy, like they didn’t give a care in the world. They were dancing on tables, clinking their drinks together, singing songs while hooking their arms around each other’s shoulders.

You laughed at the sight and stretched out your arms. How you wanted to continue the night away but your muscles were soar and aching. A physical exhaustion that you weren’t used to and didn’t want to get used to.

Bakugou was watching his crew from the door, arms crossed and enjoying his crew have fun. He was never the one to be center of attention, so he had his own fun from the back. He saw the way you extended your arms, faced wincing from how sore you were. Cute. It was your last night of volunteer work, why not end the night with something special?

You felt the Blood Prince’s breath sneak up behind your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Maybe just a little,” you admit. You look up at him and he’s giving you those soft yet piercing eyes. He goes to sit next to you and everything is just… peaceful. In that moment you felt content. You felt free. If this was how life was out of the palace, if this was more to life than just serving a spoiled princess, then you didn’t want to leave.

“I am impressed, princess,” Bakugou spoke. “This whole trip, you never, not once sat out. You helped the whole time. Are you sure you’re a princess?” he side eyed you.

“If I am not a princess, then what am I?” you asked back. (y/n), what are you doing? You could expose yourself and everything would be ruined! But for some reason, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to know his reaction and how he would respond. Maybe you would give up your whole mission for him.

“An innocent and hardworking beauty that is not a princess. She is my future queen who will help me restore this kingdom.” He came closer to you, meaning every single word. Your eyes softened and you got emotional, almost to the point of tears. He’s smiling at you, but suddenly gets up. But gestures for you to take his hand. Of course you did.

“I want to show you something,” he says and leads you away from the crowd of people and into the woods.

You two were walking for a while, your hand in his the whole way. He hadn’t told you where he was leading you to but it had to be something special if he was dragging you to what seemed like all across the country to get to your destination.

“Your highness, are we almost there yet?” you asked, fatigue hitting you once again.

“Almost,” he responds, continuing to look ahead. You huffed and held on tight to his hand so you didn’t get lost or left behind. After a few more minutes of walking, you felt the air get hotter and thinner. Bakugou smiles in front of you, looking excited.

“We’re here,” he announces. He pulls back these huge leaves, revealing a natural hot spring. The water was clear enough that you could see right through it, steam rising from the water, and rocks surrounding it, creating this gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. Your eyes lit up and a loud gasp escaped your lips.

“How did you find this place?” you asked, getting closer to the hot spring.

“You like it? None of my men know about this place,” he says.

“It’s beautiful!” you continue to gasp, feeling the water with your hands. The heat of the water made you giddy and you couldn’t wait to hop in.

“You deserve it,” Bakugou comes up to, whispering in your ear. His statement made you blush, but this time, you didn’t hide it. He smirks behind you and you heard something falling to the floor. You dare turn around to see Bakugou shirtless, discarding his clothes one by one. As if your face wasn’t hot enough, steam was coming out of your ears with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” you freaked out, turning around immediately.

“Getting in,” he said in the most obvious tone of voice.

“Together?”

“You’ll be on one side and I’ll be on the other,” he points out a huge rock, separating the hot spring into two pools. That seems a little better, but the idea of soaking in a hot spring together with the prince was nerve wracking.

“Princess, you can enter first, if that makes you feel better,” he suggested. When you turn to look at him, he already had his back turn out of respect for you.

So you undress and enter the heated water, noticing that all your muscles relaxed and the aches started going away as soon as you hit the water. You lean the back of your head on the rock and allow yourself to fully relax and destress. You could hear water splashing from the other side of the rock, indicating that Bakugou had also entered the water. Humming in satisfaction. You grew deeper and deeper in the hot spring until your nose was sitting on top of the water.

“Princess, I realize that I don’t know your name,” Bakugou spoke. Your name? You stayed silent. Was it wise to use your own name or should you continue to play as the princess?

“(y/n).” you decided.

“(y/n),” Bakugou repeated, elongating your name as if he stopped saying it, it’d disappear from him forever. The way your name left his lips felt like butter to him. He couldn’t help himself from repeated your name over and over again in his mind. You giggled and looked over the rock, arms crossed and head resting over them.

“Your highness, allow me to scrub your back,” you offered. Bakugou waved his hand while shaking his head.

“Nonsense. You shall not attend to me. We’re here to relax,” he had to remind you. But you insisted.

“But I want to, Prince Bakugou,” you pouted, jutting out your bottom lip.

“The high and mighty princess wants to wash the blood Prince’s back?” he questions playfully. He glances back to see you resting on top of the rock, giving him your big doe eyes.

“If you insist,” he gave up. He turns his back again, making sure to give you the privacy you needed to be able to come over to his side. You make your way over to him, covering your breasts in case. When you got settled behind him, you started washing his back.

You expected Bakugou to have scars from his many battles he’s had, but you didn’t expect his back to be covered in decolored and deformed wounds. Unknowingly, your hands went up to caress each scar.

“Does that frighten you?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it makes you very brave.”

A comfortable silence fell upon you. Only the sound of water running and insects in the background could be heard. That was until you felt poke your butt. The hairs on your body hiked and you screamed as loud as you could, rising from the water in panic.

“Princess!” Bakugou instinctively put protection mode on, shooting up from his place to see what the danger was. You immediately clung to him, Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. What Bakugou saw wasn’t an enemy but rather, a wild Japanese macaque monkey poking his head out of the water.

“Shoo!” Bakugou scared the monkey out of the water and back into the forest. Bakugou grunted and relaxed his shoulders. “Damn monkeys. I thought they only came out during the winter season. Are you okay, prin…cess,” he looked down at you only for you to look up at him with your exposed chest fully pressed against his chest. Now this could easily be the most embarrassing moment of your entire life. Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out another scream, using all your force to slap him across the face. Bakugou wasn’t expecting such a reaction and it caught him off guard. You put for much force into the slap that Bakugou flew back and fell into the water. You ran out of the spring, covering up as fast as you could.

Bakugou had never been so flustered in his life. He was a blushing mess and now the image of your naked breasts on him could not escape his mind. He needed time to calm himself down and a certain friend from getting too excited.

When you both had returned back to the rest of the crew, everybody had been knocked out cold from the alcohol. Thank goodness, because they couldn’t see how awkward you two were at the moment. That night, you slept in the tent again while Bakugou camped outside.

But you couldn’t sleep. How could that situation happen to you, out of all people? You weren’t sure how much he saw of your naked body. Maybe he didn’t see anything at all. But you saw the expression on his face, he definitely saw something. You covered your chest and closed your eyes. To think that a man saw your body and it wasn’t even your wedding night.

You felt the wind enter your tent, the chill making you shiver. If it was cold inside the tent, it must be extra cold outside. Bakugou was sleeping outside. You bit your lip in confliction. You wanted him to be warm but that means you had to confront him. Ah, fuck it. You opened your tent and saw Bakugou resting on the grass with his cape wrapped around him. And it wasn’t doing a very good job because you could see him shivering. He couldn’t hide it no matter how hard he tried.

“Would you like to come inside?” you invite him in.

“It’s for you, princess,” he reminded you.

“I understand. But it’s too cold to be sleeping out here. Please. I insist,” you urged. He opens one eye and sighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Bakugou gave in. You scooted over to make room for the large man to sleep next to you. Bakugou made himself comfy but he was a tad too tall for the tent that he had to have his legs hanging out. The opening of the tent revealed the big, bright moon overhead.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” you apologized. Bakugou just lets out a breath.

“It’s whatever. I didn’t see anything, by the way,” he reassures you. Embarrassed again, you unconsciously covered your chest.

“You sure?”

“Erased from my mind,” he says as he closes his eyes and moves his hands around his head, as if he was erasing his memory. You laugh at his antics, more comfortable with the mood that was created. Bakugou laughs with you and turns to you, meeting eyes. This is the nth time that his heart leapt when you stare at him with those innocent, childlike eyes. He clears his throat and all of a sudden, his ears got red.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Bakugou professed. You blinked in confusion. You weren’t sure why he said that. Glancing up at the moon, you guess you could say that it was beautiful. It was a full moon, and shone brightly above your heads. You weren’t versed in the poetics so you couldn’t comprehend the message the Blood Prince was trying to get at you.

“The moon is especially beautiful tonight. But isn’t the moon beautiful every night?” you responded.

Bakugou looks are you in mortification. Fuck, did he just get rejected? His ears got hot and he covered his mouth with his hands.

“Yeah… yeah it is,” he agreed, embarrassed. He took a deep breath in and back out again to calm his beating heart. You look over at him to see him a little distressed. You softly smiled, another side you got to see of him. It was cute. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pick its pace up and that’s when you realized. Gathering up all the courage you could muster, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek you slapped.

“Good night,” you quickly say, then turned over to face away from him. Bakugou stops everything in his tracks and is frozen. He couldn’t help but smile and fall asleep next to you.

The moment you made the decision to kiss him was when you knew that you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to become his queen and rule his kingdom together. You were going to forget your past life. You were going to forget this mission you were on. You were the princess now. That was his truth and you weren’t going to change it.

A/N: For those who don't know, the phrase "the moon is beautiful, isn't it" or 月が綺麗ですね is a more poetic way of saying "I love you" in olden Japanese. And then the response to that would be "I can die happy" or 死んでもいいわ. Just for reference.

As I said before, I absolutely love this chapter and I really really REALLY want to know your reactions and thoughts!

Spoiler: drama starts in the next chapter :)

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments or DM me! and if you'd like to be tagged when my 18+ oneshot comes out, let me know too! I love you all!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @briefhoundpartynickel @bnhahegao

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou romance #bakugou fluff #bakugou drama #bnha art #bakugou angst

201 notes · View notes

justlightlysedated · 3 years

Note

For the kisses prompts - #22 for Malex please 🧡

And thank you so much for finding the planetary alinement sequel fic for me 🧡🧡🧡

22. kisses in the rain

Alex is on the phone with Forrest, who calls him periodically every couple of days to talk about what he's doing, and Alex usually pays attention, or pretends to pay attention, but today he can't stop looking out of the window, at the rolling clouds, lighting up with flashes of lightning, the thunder rolls loudly, shaking the very vibrations of his house.

He watches the next flash of lightning and counts the seconds between it and the loud thunder.

Still a few minutes away, he thinks.

He's startled out of his thoughts by a loud knock on his door, and he hears Forrest, sounding a little pissed off, like he's been trying to get his attention but Alex isn't responding.

He picks the phone up, takes it off speaker, and puts it to his ear, mouth open to speak, but then the banging on the door sounds again, and Isobel Evans' voice, of all people sounds out, loud enough that it would have probably been picked up by the speaker.

"Alex! I know you're in there. I don't care if you're balls deep in that Nazi obsessed blue haired twink, we need to talk!"

"I have to go," Alex says, and hangs the phone up on Forrest asking him what's going on, and winces slightly, before he shrugs and drops his phone back on the counter.

He gets up from the couch, reaching for his crutch, since he hadn't been expecting any visitors, and starts to make his way to the door.

Isobel, of course, doesn't have the decency to let him open the door. She opens his locked door, practically blasting it off its hinges and she stalks into the house, eyes finding Alex immediately.

"Where is he?" She demands, stalking forward, one hand aloft, eyes sharp, like she's getting ready to pry the information out of his head if he doesn't answer fast enough.

"Who?" Alex asks, because he's well versed in Isobel enough to know that if she was talking about Forrest it would be in a mocking tone, not one that is tinged with desperation.

"Michael," she says in an obvious tone, and just hearing his name makes Alex's heartbeat spike. "He's been missing for days, and he only did that whenever he was holed up with you."

Alex shakes his head, feeling anxiety and worry bleed into him, "I haven't seen Michael since he walked out of Pony during my set, making it very clear what he thought about my song."

Isobel gives him an incredulous look, but Alex isn't sure what part of his statement she's having trouble believing.

"Over the last year the most contact we've had was text messages when he needed information, so if he's fucked off somewhere it definitely wasn't with me."

Isobel shakes her head, and she looks more irritated than anything, "God save me from my fucking oblivious brothers."

She turns to look back at Alex, "Max is dying. His new heart is failing, and he's known the whole time, and just let us know a few weeks ago. Michael isn't taking it well, and I thought that he'd come to you, but I'm guessing he knows about the Nazi obsessed blue haired twink that periodically warms your bed-"

"He has a name, you know?" Alex says, interrupting her, but Isobel continues speaking like he hadn't spoken.

"-which would explain his dive into the negative spectrum of emotions when he had been feeling pretty hopeful and anticipating your arrival."

Alex blinks at her, feeling confused, "He was hopeful?"

Isobel shakes her head at him, "But I was wrong. I'm wasting my time, because he'd never come here after a rejection."

"Rejecti-?" Alex starts to ask, feeling even more lost than before, but Isobel just turns around and heads back out of his house without even a wave of goodbye.

The slamming of the door coincides with a rumble of thunder, making Alex jump a little.

He hears his phone ringing back where he left it, and he knows that it's going to be Forrest.

A small part of him wants him to go back and answer the phone and explain about ex sort of sisters-in-law who don't know how to wait for someone to open the door, but there is an increasingly louder part of him that is yelling at him that he knows exactly where Michael is, that instead of offering his sort of boyfriend, sort of not boyfriend, any explanations, he should go and demand one from Michael instead.

Alex nods his head sharply and then turns to head to his room. If he's going out into that storm that's brewing, he's going to need to prepare himself.

Alex finds Michael at their spot off the Desert View dirt road that leads from town to Fosters Ranch. The truck is hardly visible to the road, but Alex knows exactly where it is.

Alex doesn't pay too much attention as he carefully parks his car next to the truck, and he turns off the car without looking to make sure that Michael was there.

He clenches his hands around the steering wheel and breathes in deeply, and then breathes out slowly.

And then he shakes his head and tells himself to stop being nervous or scared or whatever he was being right now, it was just Michael.

Alex lets go of the steering wheel, and gets out of the car, closing the door with a slam that gets swallowed up by the thunder that sounds immediately after the flash of lightning.

Alex breathes in deeply and closes his eyes at the smell of ozone filling the air.

Alex loves thunderstorms and when it rains so hard the smell of it permeates everything. It makes him sad and melancholy, but also fills him with a mellow sort of happiness.

It's Michael, in a scent that Alex can find anywhere. It's not as good as the real thing, but it helped whenever Alex faltered during the last year.

He looks at the truck, searching for Michael, staring into the cab of the truck, and jumping a little when he finds him sitting on the tailgate.

He looks like he hasn't moved in a while, and he doesn't even twitch when the thunder crashes again.

Alex takes him in for a moment. His face is being covered by his hat, but his clothes looked nicer than anything that Alex has ever seen him wear. Even in the dim light, he can tell that his jeans have no holes, and the sweater he's wearing actually looks soft, and like it actually fits him.

It makes something warm and fuzzy curl in the pit of his stomach, that Michael is doing good, that he's happy and well. Well, he's not really happy right now, if Isobel is to be believed, but from the small, unasked for updates that Kyle gives him whenever they meet up for beers, he knows that Michael hasn't been miserable or drinking like a fish or getting into bar fights or dating anyone.

Alex shakes his head to get rid of the last thought, because he knows better than to hope for anything. If the last three years, since he came back to Roswell the first time have taught him anything, it was that Michael was over him, and Alex just needed to get over it.

Which was much easier said than done.

Alex had thought that he had been making steps towards that, but he could feel the tips of his fingers tingling just from proximity.

Maybe this was a mistake.

As soon as he thinks the words, Michael turns and looks at him. His lips are parted like he was going to speak, and then he seems to realize that Alex was the one standing there, and not Isobel or Max.

Their eyes lock, and Alex feels his heart skip several beats, before it starts racing, matching his quickening breaths.

Lightning flashes and thunder crashes as they look at each other, and Alex has a feeling like something mystical, something alien is about to happen.

Alex walks closer to the truck and Michael doesn't move or say anything, just continues to stare at him, eyes too big, like he's not sure that Alex is real.

Alex sits down next to him and the truck moving up and down with Alex's weight is what snaps Michael's gaze away from him.

"Hi," Alex says, and his voice comes out breathless and quivering, but he pushes forward anyway. "It's good to see you."

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Michael asks, the question falling out of his mouth almost as soon as Alex finishes speaking.

"Isobel came to see me," he says, and Michael scoffs, looking at Alex and quickly away. "She said you were missing, and she thought you were at my place, and it wasn't until she left that I realized I knew exactly where you were."

Michael shakes his head, scoffing again, as he turns to give Alex a sardonic look.

"That doesn't answer the question. What did Isobel let slip 'accidentally' that made you come all the way over here, when you haven't bothered with a hello since you've been back?"

Alex bristles immediately at the implications in his tone, getting defensive, "I don't owe you anything, Guerin."

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Manes," Michael drawls, a mean smirk on his mouth.

Alex scoffs, "Really? Because it sure seems like you were expecting something."

Michael looks away at that, but Alex is just gearing up.

"Which is the part of all of this that is confusing me. I understand you coming out here and wanting to be alone because your brother is dying, again," Michael flinches at the words, and Alex wants to reach out and comfort him somehow, but instead he keeps talking.

"What I don't understand is you being hopeful about us and taking me being with someone else as a rejection. Michael, you were the one who ended things between us. You pushed me away and reminded me at every turn that while I wasn't like my family, I also wasn't what you wanted."

Michael is looking at him now, eyes wet with tears, brow furrowed, and he's shaking his head a little, like Alex is speaking about something that he doesn't understand.

He doesn't say anything in the lull of Alex's flow of speech, so Alex keeps talking.

"I am sorry, you know," he says. "About the song. I wasn't expecting you to be there when I was performing it. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"What?" Michael asks, sounding disbelieving, and he fully turns, tilting his head up a little so that he can see Alex's face clearly. "Why would you think that I was uncomfortable?"

"You walked in while I was in the middle of singing, and you left the second you realized exactly what the song was about. In conjunction with the fact that you'd just gotten your heart broken, I know you weren't walking into the bar expecting a declaration of love, and I'm sorry that I-"

"Alex," Michael says in a low voice, lowering his head just a little. "Stop apologizing."

Alex opens his mouth to speak, but stops when Michael reaches up and takes his hat off, tossing it to the side and ruffling a hand through his hair.

Without the hat, it's almost like a strip of armor that Michael had been wearing has come off, and he looks at Alex intently, "That's not why I left."

"Oh," Alex says, deflating. "Then why did you leave?"

Michael huffs out a humorless laugh, looking away.

"I thought I was doing what was best for us at the time. Maria had just broken up with me, and while I wasn't ready to jump into a relationship with you, I wanted things that I knew were selfish. And then I saw that Nazi obsessed blue haire-"

"So she got that from you?" Alex interrupts him, giving Michael an exasperated look.

Michael just shrugs unrepentant.

"I saw him there, watching you sing, and I just, I didn't think that in that moment, if given the choice, you'd pick me, not after everything that happened. So I left, because I wanted to give you the space to heal and to date whoever you wanted. But then I heard you were coming back home, and I don't know, I guess I couldn't stop myself from hoping that you were coming back for me."

Alex just stares at him, eyes wide, feeling like someone just turned his entire world upside down. He swallows hard, not really knowing how to respond.

"Michael, I-"

But Michael shakes his head, getting to his feet and standing in front of Alex.

"You don't owe me anything, remember?"

Alex just shuts his eyes, and inhales deeply.

After a couple of seconds where Michael just keeps staring at him, and the storm brews ever closer, thunder so loud and near that it reverberates through Alex's bones, he speaks again.

"I was ready, you know," he says, trying really hard to sound casual and failing. Alex opens his eyes to stare at him, but Michael is looking up at the sky, the flashes of lightning caught in his eyes.

"Or I thought that I was,” he continues, shaking his head and then looking back at Alex and jumping when he sees that Alex is looking at him. “I even went to meet you at the bus stop.”

“So that was you?” Alex proclaims, jumping down from the tailgate.

Michael looks embarrassed, cheeks flushed red, and it reminds him so much of the Michael that he fell in love with that he loses his breath for a moment.

“You noticed huh?” Michael says, making a face.

“I swore that I saw you through the bus window, but when I actually looked there was no one there, so I thought I just imagined it.”

“Well, when I saw your boyfriend there, I made myself scarce,” Michael says, a bitter tone to his voice, but he looks apologetic, so at least he’s self aware enough to know that he has nothing to actually be bitter about.

“Not my boyfriend,” Alex says automatically, and Michael just stares at him a bit incredulously.

Alex rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Like you’ve never had a booty call, Guerin.”

Michael raises both eyebrows at that, and gives Alex a mock shocked look, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he ruins the effect by smirking, and Alex can’t help it, he bursts out into laughter, the tension of the last couple of minutes draining out of him.

He’d thought maybe things between them would just be weird and stilted and painful, but so far it hasn’t felt anything like that. It felt easy.

Alex stops laughing and just grins at Michael, who is just staring at him with a look that Alex is very familiar with.

Alex’s smile dims a little as he continues to stare at Michael who breathes in deeply like he’s steeling himself for something.

“So, not your boyfriend, huh?” he says, taking a step forward.

Alex inhales sharply at the words, and licks his lips, shaking his head.

“So, if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”

Alex exhales a small disbelieving breath, his pulse racing and fingers tingling. Michael has never asked to kiss him before. He’s always just done it like he’s afraid that Alex will tell him no if he dares to ask.

Michael looks away, probably thinking that Alex meant that as a no, so Alex takes a step forward, and Michael freezes, eyes snapping back towards Alex.

“Why don’t you do it, and find out?”

Michael moves forward like he thinks that Alex is going to change his mind at any second, fingers pressed to Alex’s face as he tilts his head to the side and presses his mouth to Alex’s.

The move makes them stagger backwards a little, but Alex hardly notices as he pushes his fingers into Michael’s hair and holds on tight, keeping him close as he kisses him back.

The storm breaks at the same time, and the rain falls hard and cold, pelting them and soaking them almost immediately, but neither Alex or Michael care as they continue to kiss.

Michael digs his fingers harder into Alex’s jaw and kisses him harder, parting his lips and licking at Alex’s mouth. Alex wraps his arms around Michael’s shoulder, pulling himself in closer and opening his mouth to Michael’s.

Michael kisses him deep and just a little bit desperate, and Alex loses himself in it, thinking, this, this, this.

This is what he’s been missing. This is what’s always missing. Michael kisses him like Alex was created specifically for Michael to kiss. And Alex can’t help but surrender to the touch.

After what feels like forever and not long enough, Michael pulls away, panting heavily.

Alex blinks rapidly a few times, before he realizes that his vision is blurry because of the rain that is pouring down on top of them.

He looks up at the sky as lightning lights up the clouds and thunder rumbles, and he closes his eyes breathing in deep. Michael drops his forehead to Alex’s cheek, pressing his face along the side of Alex’s face and just breathing.

Alex just tightens his hold on Michael and breathes with him.

#malexprompts2021 #this one came out longer than i was expecting #but oh well #im not tagging this as a cheating fic cause 🌳lex isnt exclusive which means alex can kiss whomever he wants #hope you like this!!#and sorry for the delay!!!

68 notes · View notes

nejibaby · 3 years

Text

Daylight

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Y/N

Summary: You’ve been keeping things from Ace, but it takes a reoccurring nightmare to finally make you tell him.

Word Count: 3.6k

Daylight - Part 1 | Afterglow - Part 2

Loosely based on: Taylor Swift’s Lover album (but mostly about the song Daylight)

A/N: First of all, I just want to say there’s going to be a part 2 😌 Secondly, I’m sorry if this is angsty again 😫 Lastly, I wanted to give the reader some depth so there’s a backstory, I’m sorry if it doesn’t feel like a reader-insert. I tried my best... Please let me know your thoughts~

You wake up with a jolt, sweat forming on your forehead, heart beating significantly faster than usual, and tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The scenes from your nightmare are replaying in your mind.

The thing is you know it would be easier to tell yourself it was just a simple nightmare if your mind came up with those scenarios, however, that isn’t the case. The nightmares you get are often about the experiences you had to live through in the past. While you try to keep them buried, it resurfaces at the most unexpected days.

You take a few shaky breaths to calm yourself down, but that doesn’t really work out for you. Your room that was once a safe haven for you now feels like a suffocating cage. So you decide to get up and leave your room rather hastily.

You find yourself on the deck of Moby Dick, leaning on the railings and taking in the sight of the sun slowly ascending the sky. Only then are you able to breathe normally. However, it only takes ten minutes of silence alone before a sleepy figure breaks it.

“Y/N?” Ace yawns. “Baby, what are you doing here? Come back to bed with me,” he says as he rubs his eye.

You remain silent as you continue to look at the horizon. Ace frowns at your lack of response. He situates himself beside you, mimicking your stance. When he looks over at you, he instantly notices your red, teary eyes. “Did you… did you have a nightmare again?” He asks softly.

You’ve had a lot of nights that have been interrupted by your nightmares since you’ve been welcomed in this ship. He’s actually the first person to know about your nightmares, because his room used to be right beside yours and he’s heard your whimpers and wails. He doesn’t exactly know what your nightmares are, just that you have them. Nonetheless, he’s the first one to offer comfort to you, which must’ve been the reason you fell in love with him in the first place. But ever since you started sharing the same bed with him, the nightmares stopped coming altogether, except for today.

The genuine concern in his voice instantly makes you feel warm. You let yourself look at the rising sun a few more seconds before you direct your gaze to Ace, knowing full well that you won’t want to look at anything else once you settle your eyes on him. More precisely, you couldn’t actually look away from him.

The sun hits him in a certain way that makes him look amazing. Your breath almost hitched at the sight of him, but the worried look he gives you reminds you of your troubles.

“Ace…” your voice unexpectedly cracks. “I…”

His eyes widen in alertness, “Are you okay? No, don’t answer that, that’s a dumb question.” He cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead before asking, “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to, but if you do, I’ll listen—”

You cut him off by saying, “I want to… I have to tell you this… But it’s… I just...” you release a shaky breath, “I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you.”

His breath hitches. A thousand questions fill his mind in an instant. Did you do something wrong? Did you finally realize he wasn’t worthy of your attention? Did you cheat on him? Why did you look so guilty?

You can see the panic on his face and you immediately decide it wasn’t something that you want Ace to feel, especially if it was because of you.

You close your eyes and try to even out your breathing. “Ace… I… I felt like I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night.” It unintentionally comes out as a whimper.

The panic on his face is replaced by surprise. You never really talked about your problems to him before and he never really prodded. The strain in your voice causes him to feel an ache in his chest. “Baby, I’m telling you you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to or if you aren’t ready—”

“...but now I see daylight.” You look at him straight in his eyes as you finish your sentence after he interrupted you. “I only see daylight.”

Ace takes a few seconds to process your words and then he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A smile makes its way into his face. “That’s good.”

You remain silent for a while, thinking of how to say what you want to say. You’ve kept your past far too long from Ace and he deserves to know you in your entirety, even if it could possibly end your relationship. But your thoughts were so messy so you say the first thing that popped into your mind, “You know… when you found me in the shipwreck, I was ready to die then and there.”

He shakes his head. “I’m glad I found you on time. Marco told me if I’ve been a few hours late, you would’ve died.”

“The crew…” your voice cracks again.

“It must’ve been hard on you. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to open your past wounds,” Ace interjects as he rubs your arms in a comforting manner.

“I was the one who killed them,” you say, tears forming in your eyes again.

Ace halts his movements at your declaration.

When he got to you, all your crew members were dead and you were heavily injured as well, so he assumed it was because some other pirates attacked your ship. He didn’t know that it was you who caused that destruction.

You finally let your tears fall as guilt creeps inside you like a long lost friend. “They were evil. I know they sheltered me, fed me, and I should be grateful, but they were evil. They killed and murdered for fun. They stole even from the poor. They terrorized villages.” You cry, “I can’t… I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear with—”

“Ssshhh. It’s over now…” Ace hugs you tightly.

You immediately melt into his embrace. He stays silent after that and you do too.

This wasn’t the only thing you are keeping from Ace though. You have yet to drop the biggest news about yourself.

Was Ace going to stay with you if you told him your identity? The question echoes in your mind.

Maybe you’re foolish to think that this could work out.

You start to feel queasy. This feeling brought you back memories of your most important conversation with Pops.

It was the day that he asked you to join the crew, or as he worded it, “family”, after you had healed from your injuries. You remember telling him he shouldn’t openly welcome someone like you.

You weren’t even sure if he had heard about you and your deeds, but knowing how fast news of that spectrum could spread and his status as a Yonko, you assumed he did but if he did, you wondered why he still insisted you join them.

And then he claimed that you’re too young to be left alone. When he said that matter-of-factly without a trace of malice, you almost gave in and joined on the spot, but you stopped yourself. You didn’t want to burden them with the dangers that come with you, especially because they took care of you until you fully healed. So instead, you just said you were going to think about his offer.

A week later, you found yourself knocking on Whitebeard’s door with the intent of talking to him. Then the next thing you knew, you were confiding in him. You told him who you are, what you’ve done, and why you’ve done them. It was the first time you’ve ever bared yourself to someone.

You expected him to give you a look of disgust or of anger, but he didn’t. Sure, it took a few minutes for him to process everything you’ve said but in the end, he looked like he was unfazed by your revelation. It was then that you asked him if he would still have you knowing who you were. He didn’t even think twice as he said, “You’re part of the family ever since my son brought you here.”

You remember feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder because of Pops. He and the rest of the crew treated you as if you were their own blood, but also so much better than that, considering you had an awful relationship with your biological parents.

You start to wonder if Ace would react the same way. So far, he’s being gentle with you like he usually is. But what you’ve told him was only a portion of your story. It wasn’t the cause of your nightmares, although it might be an effect of it.

There’s a possibility that he wouldn’t accept you for who you truly are and it scares you. This fear gnaws at you. The fear of being left almost overpowers your desire to tell Ace everything, but you fight it with all your might. He deserves to know you, wholly. And if he doesn’t want to be with you after this, it was understandable. You wouldn’t hold this against him.

You gather the last bits of courage you have left and pull away from him. You wipe the tears from your eyes.

Ace reads your face. It’s easy to tell that you wanted to say more. He can see the determination in your eyes. So he waits patiently for you to talk.

“Do you know why my bounty is so high?” You ask.

“I think I heard Marco and Thatch talk about something… Hm…” he scratches his chin as he thinks. “Ah! I heard them say that they read in the newspaper that you killed a Celestial Dragon.”

You purse your lips. So he does know…

“Is that what bothers you?” He asks but you remain silent so he continues, “I’m sure you had your reasons. You aren’t the type to do anything just because. Hell, you don’t even follow my orders as your Commander when you think it’s unreasonable.” He chuckles. “They’re scums anyway, especially those Celestial Dragons.”

He’s waiting for you to crack a smile or verbally respond but it takes a minute and then two, you still haven’t said a word. You’re looking at him but your eyes are unfocused and glazed. He starts to worry about you. There must be something deeper behind the death of that Celestial Dragon.

Sometimes it’s hard for Ace to find the right words to say, just like this time. He’s aware you’re bothered or anxious about something, but he doesn’t know what it is about. You aren’t exactly confirming or denying his assumptions, and he doesn’t want to pressure you into talking about it. But… how is he supposed to say the right thing to comfort you when he doesn’t know what it is that bothers you?

However, there’s one thing he’s sure about, and that is his desire to protect you, to shield you from the cruel world.

He wants to erase the sadness that is overwhelming you. He simply can’t stand seeing you in pain.

For now, words fail him so he resorts to actions. He takes you in his arms once again. He tucks your head into his chest and rubs soothing circles on your back. He kisses the crown of your head and lets you know he’s there.

It doesn’t take long for you to break free from his grasps. You take a step back. But you think it wasn’t enough so you take two steps more. This confuses Ace, but you know it’s better this way. “I… killed two Celestial Dragons,” you correct him.

Ace nods his head.

“They are…” you shake your head, “They were… my parents.”

He tenses from your declaration.

“I am— I was a Celestial Dragon.” You mumble. Before you lose your courage entirely, you quickly tell him about everything.

You tell him about how as a child, you didn’t think much of your status and your actions. You acted accordingly as a Celestial Dragon, that was how you were raised after all; as a person who didn’t pay any thought to another person besides yourself.

That was, until you became friends with one of your slaves who was around your age. “She was really nice to me. She was one of the few people brave enough to talk to me. But we only talked when we were inside the comfort of my room without my parents watching, knowing they disliked it when slaves talked. Because of her, I realized how lonely I actually was. The only people I got to interact with during those days were my parents, their Celestial Dragon friends who visited once in a while, and the slaves because I wasn’t allowed to go out of our home until I was nine years old. So she was a really good company for me. She talked about the life in the villages she went to and all types of people she met. It’s funny because she even taught me manners,” you smile at the memory of her, albeit momentarily. “Every story she told was so interesting and every day I found myself wanting to visit the places she described, and to experience what she did before she became a slave.

“But one day, my parents found us talking and playing together… And they deemed it horrific for a slave to act that way with me.” You clench your fists as the memories come crashing down on you. “So they killed her… in front of me. And I couldn’t do anything to save my only friend.”

It’s their fault for thinking they could act like that towards you. We’re gods, they’re merely humans. You could almost hear the words your father spouted that day.

Ace is listening closely to you, but he has that faraway look on his face. You aren’t sure if he’s picturing the scenarios you told him about or if he’s remembering an awful memory of his own involving Celestial Dragons. Either way, you can tell from his face his distaste.

There is so much more to say though, so you continue, “That kinda put things into perspective for me. It made me resent my parents, their way of living, and the way they raised me. It opened my eyes to how cruel and horrible every Celestial Dragons were. It made me wonder how many lines have I crossed unforgiven… And I just drifted apart from them.

“I was upset and angry about everything but I didn’t know what to do about it so I kept myself locked up in my room. My shitty parents thought getting a new slave my age would make me feel better so they did just that, but that didn’t change the way I saw my parents.

“Be that as it may, I started getting out of my room again, afraid of what they would do if they thought the new slave wouldn’t be of any benefit. In the end, I befriended her, although she was way more timid than my first friend and she was always scared to drop her guard. This time though, I was more careful when interacting with her. But she was the only one I could protect from the ton of slaves my parents had and it just… It left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“For years I couldn’t do anything more. And the longer I stayed under their roof and the more I saw of them treating humans as awful creatures, the angrier I got until I just snapped. And I...” your voice cracks once again.

“You killed them.” Ace finishes the sentence for you.

You nod your head meekly. “The way out of Mary Geoise was tricky because I wanted to bring as many slaves as I could so they could be freed. Somehow I managed to do just that. I parted with them at Sabaody, but... I heard some of them got recaptured,” you weep. It broke your heart; you tried your best to give them back their freedom but it was short-lived for some. You hate the fact that you gave them a small flicker of light— of hope— only to have it extinguished within moments.

You fall silent as you remember how there was nothing you could do back then because you had to run away too. You were aware that it was only a matter of days before the Nobles would learn of your crime and have someone from Cipher Pol or maybe an Admiral come after you.

“Maybe… Maybe I should have ended the bloodline then and there…” you mumble. “I remember thinking, no, hoping, that it would be Aokiji-san who would be sent after me. At least then, if I was to be executed, it would be in the hands of someone who was at least nice to me. But that was selfish, and for all the sins my family and my descendants committed, I cannot afford to be selfish.

“But then again, wanting to live is also selfish,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I tried to reason to myself that I should live just to make sure no one suffers the same fate as the slaves, but I haven’t been doing a particularly great job at that, considering I wounded the good and trusted the wicked when I got mixed up with Morganeer pirates.” You look away from Ace momentarily as you let your tears fall once again.

The tears have fogged your mind and you find yourself not wanting to say anything more. You take a quick peek at the man in front of you. He looks tense, rigid. He doesn’t speak nor look back at you. His face is void of any emotion. Somehow he doesn’t look like himself; he doesn’t look like the goofy, sweet Ace who fell in love with you. And perhaps it’s all your fault.

Observing the man who holds your heart, you realize that he too doesn’t have anything to say. Maybe you should tell him that you’re going to give him time to process things alone, but words died on your throat the minute you started crying again. So instead of bidding him a goodbye or even a “See you later” or waiting for him to tell you to leave, you run.

Maybe that’s the only thing you’re really, truly good at.

For the rest of the day, you stay in your room. Once in a while someone would knock to ask if you’re alright, but it’s never Ace, so you lie and say you’re fine. No one seems to question you after you say that but you can tell from their faces they don’t believe you.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner comes and goes but you still haven’t left your room, let alone your bed. You haven’t touched the food that Thatch left you too, and it makes you feel bad but you have no appetite at all and you’re feeling quite nauseous.

You wait until the ship grows silent as the crew starts to get ready for bed. When you’re sure that most of them have been lulled to sleep by the calm sea, you get out of your room and head to Pops. You haven’t even knocked on his door yet but he already tells you to come in.

As soon as you close the door, he asks why you haven’t gone out of your room the whole day. You inform him, and he nods in understanding. “Do you want me to talk to him or beat him up or something?” He asks.

You shake your head, “Can I… Can I depart tonight?”

“Where to?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet…” you tell him earnestly.

He gives you a look, as if saying, “Do you really think I’d allow you if you aren’t sure what you’re going to do?”

“It’s just that… Its anniversary is coming up and I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.”

He laughs, “You aren’t going to be able to bring my children down.”

“I know,” you smile briefly. “But... I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble in case something happens…”

He sighs, “Okay, but bring—”

“No, I want to be alone.”

For the first time in a while, you see Pops frowning. It’s evident that he didn’t want you to be alone, it’s far too dangerous for you.

You understand where he’s coming from but you need time for yourself, and Ace needs time without you too. So to convince him, you hand him your vivre card and a Den Den Mushi. You didn’t have to tell him anything more, the pieces of items speak for themselves. It’s for him to know that you’re safe and you’ll be safe.

He looks at you solemnly, but nods anyway. It comes to a surprise to you when he pulls you into his embrace. He whispers, “Be safe, my child, and come back home soon to us.”

You nod with tears in your eyes. Pops has always been nice to you, even when you know you don’t deserve it, so leaving is hard for you. Although you’re both hoping you’d come back, you both know it’s not going to be easy. The seas aren’t as forgiving as humans, after all.

“Thank you, Pops,” you tell him as you break free from his embrace.

When you’ve boarded your boat, you take one last look at Moby Dick and think, “It was nice finally seeing the daylight because of Ace, but perhaps it was time to go back to sleep and face the nightmares instead of running from them.”

#one piece imagines #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d. ace x you #portgas d. ace x y/n #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #one piece imagine #one piece angst #one piece fanfic #one piece #ace imagine

231 notes · View notes

semisgroupie · 3 years

Text

The Woman Who Used to be Mrs. Jones

Genre: smut, fluff (kinda at the end?), angst

Pairing: Aoi Todo X F!Reader

Word Count: 6.4k words

Warnings (some of the content can be triggering so please read through the warnings before reading this): cheating (in this Todo is the other man/reader is in a loveless marriage where her husband cheats on her/her husband is just a huge asshole), toxic relationship, sexual scenes, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), dirty talk, multiple creampies, bathroom sex, praise, risky sex (they fuck at a party the reader and her husband is hosting), mention of a small altercation between Todo and reader’s husband, mention of a child & brief mention of pregnancy (not detailed), if I missed anything let me know

A/N: I do not condone, support or encourage cheating! It is not good, don’t do it! The song Me and Mrs. Jones by Billy Paul helped me with creating this piece so I recommend listening to it while reading this. This has depicted sex within this so MINORS DNI (I’m not gonna cry bc I don’t cry but I am not afraid to beat some ass) So I hope you all enjoy it, comments/reblogs are very appreciated!!! I also apologize in advance if formatting is weird on mobile :/

Flashbacks are bolded & italicized! Also separated by a border!

Todo walks up to the counter of the cafe and orders the usual for the both of you. He came early since he was done with work earlier than usual so after paying for the drinks he carried them to the special spot you two shared. Once seated he takes his phone out to check the time while taking a sip from his drink.

The time read 5:45. You got out fifteen minutes ago and your job wasn’t too far from the cafe, so you’d be there soon. The bell chimed to the cafe and Todo looked up to see you walk in.

His heart pounded in his chest, you looked as beautiful as you did the first day he met you all those years ago in high school. Once you two made eye contact you flashed him a smile and made your way over to him.

“Hey baby, I didn’t think you’d be here before me.”

He felt his cheeks flush at the pet name. You leaned down to hug him and give him a kiss, placing your hands on each side of his face caressing him as your lips met. Once you pulled away you sat down and started talking about your day at work.

He couldn’t help but lose focus as to what you were saying. He knew your day was tough from how your hair looked a bit disheveled from running your hands through it, a habit you had picked up when you were extremely stressed.

Time passed as the two of you spoke about each other’s days and then you were both done with your drinks.

“Wanna go home now Aoi? As much as I love it here I found this new recipe online that I would really like to try out!”

He nodded as you both got up, tipped the cashier one last time before heading to your shared home. The distance was short from where you both were currently and when you two were together even one hundred miles would feel like two blocks.

As Todo put the key in to unlock the door he sighed in content. Once you both were inside he took your jacket off and put it away. He leaned on the kitchen island while you started taking out ingredients for dinner.

“This isn’t a dream right Y/N?”

It just felt so unrealistic to him he just had to be dreaming. Your laughter filled the air as you walked towards him. You wrapped your arms around his body and looked up at him.

“While we did this in the most unconventional way it is very much real” you removed your left hand from his body to put your hand close to his line of view, “this ring you gave me a few months ago is proof of our love and the ring I gave you on your left ring finger is also proof of my love and dedication to you.”

Unconventional? Was that even the right word to explain the events that led you both to where you are now?

You started your arrangement with him two years ago. You became “Mrs. Jones” a year before that. A happy marriage was wished to the both of you, but your marriage was anything but that. Six months after you both said your I do’s you found your husband in bed with his boss. They didn’t even think about trying to conceal their affair.

To say it broke your heart was an understatement. You felt like he ripped your heart out of your chest and destroyed it slowly as you watched. Soon there were lonely nights filled with you drinking and crying yourself to sleep. Soon after you just became numb, you got used to putting up a facade whenever your friends or family asked how married life was.

The only one who knew of the affair and how horrible your marriage actually was, was your best friend Valerie. When she first found out you had to hold her back the next time she saw him because she was just filled with rage. You were trying to find a good divorce attorney, but you just didn’t have enough money yet, so you were stuck for the time being. Then it was time to plan how to celebrate one year since the day you married him.

Valerie said that she would bring a special surprise for you, but you just pushed it to the side. You settled on hosting a party at your parent’s house since it was big enough. The fake smile you had plastered on your face burned your soul more than the cheap ring on your finger. A cheap ring that meant the entire world one moment but now means absolutely nothing.

You were leaning on the wall, holding a glass of champagne, next to your husband as Valerie approached you.

“Y/N! You look absolutely stunning!” she gave your husband a side glance as she begrudgingly said his name, “Declan... anyways I have your surprise so come with me to the backyard!”

Before you could say anything she grabbed your hand and weaved both of you through the crowd of people. She opened the door and you almost dropped your glass at the sight.

“Aoi? I thought you were away in Sweden?”

Todo brings a hand to his neck.

“I was but my job relocated here, and Valerie told me everything. As much as I’d love to say congratulations, I can’t.”

Your body moves on its own as you approach him and hug him. He holds you on instinct and all that is heard is sniffles. You move back and quickly apologize for your abrupt actions.

“Hey, don’t apologize pretty girl” he brought his hands to cup your face and wiped the tears from your face, “Declan should be the one apologizing, how could he take someone like you for granted. I know you might not believe me, but you look just as beautiful as you did when we were in high school.”

The two of you were high school sweethearts but got accepted into different colleges. The inevitable happened and you both broke up, heading your separate ways losing contact. The last thing you heard about him was he had a job in Sweden and that was it. After college you met Declan and he seemed like a knight in shining armor, but it was too late for you to realize he was the devil in disguise.

You leaned into his touch as if you two were the only ones there. Only if he was the one you married; you both would be so happy. You wouldn’t have to worry about any mistresses or affairs because even in this moment you felt all his love. Todo moved in and before you knew it you felt his lips on yours.

You melted into the kiss immediately kissing him back until he abruptly pulled away.

“I am so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to you’re still married, and this is the anniversary party and he’s inside—”

“I don’t care about Declan. The only one I care about is you. Valerie always says I should be a little selfish and now is the time. I still care about you Aoi, I still love you. The piece of my heart that left with you is now back and I’m whole again. I understand if you’re not comfortable with this, I am trying to find a lawyer and once I get the promotion at my job I can finally pay for one.”

You looked up at him hoping he would indulge you in one last kiss even if it would be the last one you two ever shared. You watched as a smile grew on his handsome face.

“I love you too Y/N, I always had and I always will. When Valerie told me about everything I cannot explain the anger I felt not only at him but also myself. If I never left then you wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe you would’ve been with me.”

He leaned down and placed another kiss on your lips. Before it could continue Valerie ran out to the both of you.

“Hey lovebirds as much as I love seeing you two together Declan is starting a toast and wants his wife by his side.”

She rolled her eyes as your husband’s name left her lips. You took a deep breath and turned inside, Valerie and Todo following you. You took another deep breath as you made your way to your husband putting up the fake smile. He handed you a glass of champagne and started the toast.

“This past year with my beautiful wife by my side has been the best year of my life. Waking up next to her every morning is what fuels my fire. I love this woman so much and marrying her was the best decision of my life. Thank you all for coming and supporting us. Here’s to a happy, healthy marriage and for many more years to come!”

As glasses clinked and cheers filled the room you were filled with disgust at his words. How could he spew such garbage knowing it meant absolutely nothing?

“Come on honey, you can do a better job with that fake fucking smile. Make everyone believe that we’re in love and that I haven’t fucked almost every single one of my coworkers. Maybe I’ll even indulge in you tonight.”

“Fuck you Declan, you piece of shit.”

You excused yourself to the bathroom shoving your heel into his foot making him wince in pain. Todou followed you upstairs a few minutes afterwards hearing your sobs. He knocked on the door once, twice until your shaky voice responded.

“Hey it’s me, I wanted to check on you.”

He waited hearing your heels click on the ground until you reached the door to open it. You looked up at him with tear stained cheeks, eyes puffy from all the rubbing and wiping your tears away. Todo looked at you with so much love it was as if Eros struck him with his bow.

He quickly placed his lips on yours, the kiss feverish but also very loving. As if he was telling you how much he loved you each time his lips met yours. He picked you up and placed you on top of the bathroom sink, quickly running to shut and lock the bathroom door.

“Please let me make you forget about him. Please let me show you what it is like to make love and not fuck. Please Y/N.”

All you did was nod before placing your lips back on his allowing your hands to slide down and undo his belt. He allowed you to undo his belt and pants letting them hit the ground while he was lifting the skirt of your dress up.

“As much as I’d love to take my time worshipping your body we have to make this pretty quick beautiful. But please if you want to stop at any time stop me.”

You nodded at him as you felt his hand lightly graze your clothed pussy. He moved your panties to one side as he slipped a finger in, slowly moving it then inserting a second finger moving it just as slow but each movement made you moan and shiver. You started getting impatient and you grabbed his wrist.

“Please Aoi, please make love to me.”

He slotted his lips against yours again as he removed his cock from his boxers. Moving the tip against your folds making you both moan in the kiss. Once he entered you, slowly and gentle, you broke away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan. Once you gave him the okay he started thrusting.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. Just holding me like you don’t want me to let go.”

He moved faster hitting all the right spots. It was as if his cock was designed to fit inside your pussy. Both of your moans and groans filled the small bathroom. It quickly became heated as the mirror started to fog up. He started thrusting into you faster and harder making you throw your hands on the mirror for stabilization.

He placed sloppy kisses along the column of your neck. He lifted himself from your neck to lick two of his fingers and place them on your clit, moving them in small tight circles.

“Come on baby cum for me. Cum all over my cock and I will fill you up. I’ll make this pretty little pussy so fucking messy with my cum and you’ll walk around in that party filled with it. You look so fucking gorgeous baby. I love you so much.”

That sent you off the edge, creaming on his cock with a high pitched moan of his name. He continued pounding your pussy through your orgasm as he was nearing his own. You pulled him in for another kiss running your nails up and down his clothed chest. Feeling your nails against him made him reach his own peak, filling you completely with his cum.

Todo peppered kisses along your lips, swollen and puffy from kissing so intensely, as you both came down from your highs.

“I’m going to pull out now okay?”

“Okay that’s fine.”

You didn’t need to tell Todo to be gentle, he was already treating you like fine glass. He slowly pulled out and quickly moved your underwear to cover your cum filled pussy. A low chuckle left his lips.

“Don’t want you leaking cum all over the place.”

He lifted you off the bathroom sink after picking up both his pants and boxers. Before you could even smooth out your dress Todo did it for you, fixing any flyaways in your hair and placing one last kiss on your lips. He unlocked the door and helped lead you to the stairs.

“We should head down at separate times so we don’t look so suspicious.”

You nodded, placing one last kiss one his lips.

“I love you Aoi.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

You went downstairs and walked to your parents. You had a small limp and it filled both Aoi and yourself with joy seeing how your husband stared, completely confused at you. Valerie leaned next to you close to your ear.

“I already gave Aoi your phone number, go get that dick again.”

She lightly smacked your ass, a small yelp leaving your lips. The party went on for a couple more hours, lingering glances shared between you and Todo. When the party ended you had to figure out a ride situation since your husband drank way too much and you were a little tipsy.

Declan’s brother offered to take him back and before he could offer you a ride Todo came up and offered to take you home, to which you immediately agreed. The ride was filled with laughter and talk of memories. Also, when Todo parked at a secluded area near where you live you thanked him for the ride with a mind blowing blowjob.

He dropped you off in front of your place, being the gentleman he is, he walked you to the front door giving you one last kiss.

“I hope to see you again soon beautiful angel.”

“How about tomorrow? We could go get drinks or dinner.”

“There’s a cafe near my job, I’ll text you the address. Meet me there tomorrow when you’re done with work.”

You nodded as you fished your keys out of your purse. Taking a deep breath you unlocked the door and put your things away, heading straight to the guest bedroom because you refuse to sleep in the same bed Declan had all his whores in.

You thought he went to sleep until you heard a groan of your name. You rolled your eyes and continued going to the guest bedroom, ignoring him until you felt a hand grab your wrist.

“What do you want Declan?”

“What, I can’t touch my wife? You looked really sexy tonight so I thought I might do you the favor of fucking you.”

Fire burned in your veins. Every time you tried to pull yourself away from his hold, his grip got tighter.

“Declan, you’re drunk, and I hate you. Even if I was drunk I still wouldn’t go to bed with you, so make good friends with your hand or call one of your whores up because I will never sleep with you again.”

He turned you around.

“Listen here you bitch, you will never talk to me like that ever again. I did you the fucking favor of marrying your sorry ass now you treat me like this? I haven’t touched you in fucking months and this is what you tell me? Fuck you.”

“My sorry ass? Did me a favor? Did you also do me a favor by cheating on me over and over again? Did you do me a fucking favor then Declan? Rubbing it in my face that you didn’t love me the way I loved you, fucking anything that had tits and bringing them back here. I. Fucking. Hate. You. Rot. In. Hell. I don’t know what those girls see in you anyways, I had to fake almost all my orgasms and your dick has a weird curve, you should go see a doctor for that actually. I can’t wait until I have the money to divorce you and properly leave your sorry ass in the dust.”

You snatched your arm from his grip and locked yourself in the guest bedroom. You took off the heels and unzipped your dress letting it hit the ground as you made your way to the bathroom that was connected to the room. You took off the ring on your left hand flushing it down the toilet.

“That’ll be the last I see of you.”

You turned on the shower letting the water run, steam filling up the bathroom fogging up the mirror. You slipped your panties off the memory of your time with Aoi in the bathroom of your parents’ house filling your mind as you picked up the cum stained panties and put them in the laundry basket.

You entered the shower letting the water run over your body. After your shower you put your pajamas on and sent a goodnight text to Todo setting up the time for meeting at the cafe tomorrow. The next morning you woke up to an empty house, you let out a sigh of relief not wanting to deal with Declan after the stunt he pulled last night.

Your day at work went fairly quickly then it was the end of your workday. Inputting the address Todo gave you into the GPS you realized the drive was going to be pretty short. Once you found parking you walked into the cafe, the little bell on the door chiming with the movement. You looked around and saw Todo sitting at a corner side table, isolated from most of the crowd.

That’s when you started the arrangement. He was fine with being the sideman for now until he could properly have you to himself. Little dates and mind blowing sex filled your lives for the next four months.

~Four Months Later~

Todo was sitting at the table that basically became the unofficially assigned table for you both as he heard the chime to the door. His head shot up expecting you to come through the doorway. It was just an elderly couple. He checked his phone again, checking for any new messages from you and nothing. Just the last message that read: “I’ll see you soon my love”.

Today was the day you would find out if you got the promotion. With the promotion you would get a huge increase in your salary and a $2,000 advance once it was official. $2,000 was the amount you needed to finally afford the divorce lawyer.

Ten minutes passed and Todo ordered another drink for himself. To say he was nervous for you would be an understatement. He was fidgeting like crazy. He received the drink and sat back down at the table. The door chimed again and he looked up to finally see you.

You waved at him and gave him a small smile. Worry filled him and he was afraid to ask you how everything went.

“There’s no way she didn’t get the promotion. She has the best relationship with her boss and she works so hard.” He thought to himself.

You greeted him with a kiss on his head and sat down. He stood silent watching you.

“So I should tell you about what happened at work right Aoi?”

“You don’t have to honey, it’s fine.”

A smile graced your face, a genuine smile, the only type of smile that you shared with Todo since he filled you with genuine happiness.

“I got the promotion.”

Todo sat there in shock.

“What? What did you just say?”

“I got the promotion. I just came back from meeting the divorce lawyer to fill out necessary paperwork, that’s why I came so late.”

He got up from his seat and lifted you up into his arms.

“I’m so happy. I could yell from the rooftops.”

So he did the next best thing, he yelled about your promotion to the entire cafe. The people inside applauded you and gave you words of encouragement. The elderly man approached the both of you after Todo put you down.

“Congratulations to you young lady. This young man seems to be extremely proud of you. I didn’t mean to interrupt the celebration but it’s just that the both of you remind both my wife and I of us when we were younger. While we met under unconventional circumstances we have spent the past 30 years together. I wish you both a happy, healthy relationship.”

You both thanked the old man and watched him walk back to his wife.

“Do you think we’ll be like them one day Aoi?”

He pulled you close to him.

“I don’t think we will, I have a feeling I know we will. Now let’s go pick up your things and bring you back to my place to properly celebrate.”

He drove you to your house and walked with you inside to pack your clothes. In the midst of packing things you both heard the front door slam shut, meaning one thing: Declan was home.

“Care to explain the car in front Y/N? I know you don’t have enough money to afford a new one.”

You sighed and continued packing with Todo.

“I was asking you a fucking question -- oh who’s this? Why are you packing? Oh I get it now, finally got a new guy to deal with your shit? Good luck buddy--”

Before Declan could get another sentence out Todo walked over and shoved him against the wall.

“Don’t you ever speak to Y/N like that again asshole. For your information, she’s leaving you and coming with me. A guy who actually loves her.”

Declan stood there shocked that someone stood up to him. Once you zipped up your bag Todo left Declan to help you. Todo walked behind you with your bag in his hand. You turned one last time to Declan.

“Oh by the way I’ve been having sex with Aoi for the last four months and the first time was at the anniversary party. The reason I was limping was because of him not because of my heels. And you’ll be getting my divorce papers soon, go fuck yourself Declan.”

You walked with Todo to his car and he drove you back to the cafe so you could bring your car to his place. Once you entered through the front door he was on top of you. Placing sloppy kisses all over your lips and neck.

“You looked so fucking sexy there Y/N.”

He picked you up and brought you to his bedroom while you were peppering kisses along his neck. He put you on the bed and started stripping, you followed suit until you were left in your bra and panties and he was left in his boxers.

He pushed you down on the bed and crawled over you. Placing kisses down your body, removing your bra once he got to your chest and removing your panties once he got to your hips. Not one inch of your body was left untouched by his lips except your pussy. The place you needed him most.

“Aoi please.”

“Please what baby? Tell me what you want.”

“Need you—your mouth on my pussy please.”

He wasted no time. He licked from your leaking entrance to your engorged clit. Making you throw your head back.

“I don’t know how but you taste better every time. I’m fucking addicted to how you taste.”

He dove back in, wrapping his lips around your clit and using a finger to tease your entrance. He was alternating between light sucks and harsh sucks making you buck your hips against his mouth.

“Aoi please fuck me. Wanna cum on your cock please.”

He gave your clit one last suck and took the finger he used to circle your entrance and put it in your mouth. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his finger made him even harder if that was possible. He stood up and took off his boxers, throwing them to a random area in the room.

He spit on his hand and pumped himself a few times as he made his way back on the bed.

“Are you ready my love?”

You spoke breathlessly “yes Aoi, please.”

He aligned himself and entered you slowly, going inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you. A moan leaving both of your lips.

“And correction my love, I don’t fuck you” you furrowed your brows but that expression quickly changed when he pulled himself back until only the head of his cock was inside you and he bottomed out again in a swift movement, “I make love to you.”

He leaned down placing his forearms on either side of your head slotting his lips against yours. His thrusts slowly increase in speed. He breaks the kiss to praise you.

“My beautiful girl is so talented. You look so gorgeous right now. So fucking beautiful, I love you Y/N. I love you so much.”

“Aoi, feels s’good. Please I’m gonna cum soon. You fill me so good, like you were made for me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and he slides his hand down between the two of you to rub circles around your clit. Your moans start increasing in pitch signaling that you’re going to cum. You bring your hands to his back and rake your nails down, digging into his skin, sure to leave marks. His ruts increased in speed bringing you to your orgasm.

“Fuck baby you’re clenching my cock so tight. I’m gonna cum so deep in your pussy baby. I’m gonna fill you up every single day because now you are mine.”

He emphasized each word with a hard thrust. He buries his face in the crook of your neck. Once he cums he sinks his teeth in trying to conceal the guttural moan that leaves his mouth. Coming down from his high he lifts his head up.

“I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to—”

“There’s no need to apologize Aoi, I’m sorry about the scratches on your back.”

“Don’t apologize pretty girl, with how often we’re going to be making love I’ll get used to it.”

He slowly pulled out and you felt the cum leak out of you. He picked you up and carried you bridal style to the shower. Let’s just say both of you were lucky that the neighbors were gone for the night.

~1 year later~

The both of you have been together for a year and four months. Todo was by your side the entire time throughout the divorce preceding. Comforting you and supporting you the entire time. Once your divorce was finalized your relationship received an official title.

Both of you were extremely happy but there was the voice in the back of Todo’s head that gave him doubts. When he went to go engagement ring shopping with Valerie the voice was there.

As he picked out the perfect ring for you the voice was there. His head was filled with doubts. Of course he loved you, he loved you more than anyone or anything in the world. He knew you loved him. His love for you was immortal, unconditional but he wasn’t so sure if it was the same for you.

That voice in his head hammering doubts over and over again it made him nervous. He started to wonder if he should bring the ring back. If he should change his mind. It was that voice.

“What if she gets tired of you like her husband did with her? What if she finds someone better than you? What if she doesn’t love you as much as you love her? Could you handle the heartbreak Aoi? Could you?”

He started getting distant from you, less kisses in the morning, leaving without saying goodbye, barely initiating sex, it made you worried. What if he’s getting tired of you like Declan? You texted him wanting to meet at the cafe after work. He just sent back a simple “okay”.

Reading it made you even more nervous than before. When you were done with work you drove as slow as you possibly could to the nearby parking lot. You opened the door to the cafe and once you looked around you saw Todo there, fidgeting.

“Is he going to end things with me? We were supposed to move to the new house next week.” You wondered to yourself, you both had so many plans for the future but the future is uncertain.

You sat down and it was silent. He nudged your drink over to you and that was the most interaction you got from him since you got there. It killed you to not talk to him and it was killing him too.

“Y/N, I’m scared.”

You looked into his eyes and saw the fear within them. But what could he possibly be scared about?

“Aoi, what’s wrong? What’s scaring you?”

“What if you get tired of me? What if you meet someone better than me? What if—”

“Aoi. Stop that please” your voice started shaking, it broke your heart to see the man you love being plagued with such fears.

“Aoi, I love you. I love you more than anything in the world. You’re my love. You’re my soulmate. You make me happier than anyone in this world. You brighten up my day, the small things you do make me fall even more in love with you.”

You got up and bent down to hug him. You pulled back holding his face in your hands.

“Aoi I will never get tired of you. I let you leave me once and I never plan on doing it ever again. I love you Aoi Todo, I will love you until my heart stops beating and I will love you long after that. In every life I will look for you to recreate this love over and over again. If I had to go back in time I would go through this all over again just to be right here with you.”

Tears were falling down both of your faces by the time you stopped speaking. You wiped his tears away and he lifted his hands to wipe yours away. He pulled your face closer to his and kissed you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so so sorry.”

He muttered apologies against your lips and when you both pulled away it was his turn to speak. You sat back down holding his hands above the table.

“I just got scared Y/N. I love you so much and I just can’t imagine my life without you. I look forward to the future with you, I want you by my side through every single endeavor. You’re my everything. You’re the sun that brightens my day. You’re the stars that shine through my night sky. You’re the air that I breathe. I love you.”

You stood up and pulled him along with you as you both walked out of the cafe. You drove the both of you home and once you entered you led him to the bedroom. Once you entered you undid his work shirt and pants stripping him to his underwear. You led him to the bed and sat him down.

“I never want you to question my love for you ever again.”

You kissed him and placed kisses down his body. Little nibbles along his pecs, a flick of your tongue along his nipples, slow sensual kisses until you reached the waistband of his boxers. You tugged at the waistband and he lifted his hips to help you properly take them off.

His cock slapped against his abdomen. You took it in your hand and gave it a few gentle strokes. You placed featherlight kisses from the head of his cock to the base. You took his head into your mouth swirling your tongue around it and letting it go with a pop.

You took your hand and spit on it using it to lube his cock for you and you started to take more of him into your mouth. His moans and groans filling the room along with the sounds of you gagging yourself on his cock.

When you popped up for air looking at him he could swear he just saw a goddess in front of him. Even with your saliva and tears coating your face he has never seen anyone more beautiful than you. Even Aphrodite herself could not even come close to your beauty.

You got up and stripped off your clothing. You pushed him back gently to lay on the bed as you straddled him aligning his cock with your pussy. You sunk yourself down onto him, he tossed his head back into the bed feeling your warm slick walls welcome him in.

You started moving up and down slowly before gaining a rhythm bouncing on his cock. You moved your upper body close to his grabbing his face and making eye contact.

“I love you—ah fuck—Aoi. I love you so much. You fuck me so good. You are so handsome. Thank you for loving me.”

You felt his arms reach around your waist as planted his feet on the ground to pound into you. Once he started jackhammering into you repeatedly hitting your g-spot you felt yourself cumming around him over and over again.

He used this position to pull as many orgasms as he could from you until he had his own and with how tight you were around him it would be extremely soon. You felt his cock twitch inside you.

“Please cum inside me Aoi, please please please. I need you to fill me up please I need your cum.”

He pulled you down and his hips lifted bottoming out inside you, filling you with his cum. You let your full weight go onto him as you were catching your breath. Hard breaths filled the room. You looked at him and kissed him again.

“I love you Aoi.”

“I love you more Y/N.”

The following week you both moved into your forever home. Todo made dinner and ordered your favorite dessert to celebrate the move. It was also the day that he was going to propose. He knew how much you hated public proposals and receiving unnecessary attention so why not do it at home?

When you were doing the dishes making small conversation on how you saw a documentary about female serial killers he got the ring and went on one knee.

“So all of her victims were just random men who had green eyes, isn’t that—”

“Y/N.”

You turned around and dropped the sponge in your hand. Your jaw drops at the sight of the man you love and the most beautiful ring you have ever seen.

“Y/N, you have made me the happiest man the past year and four months. Time with you has been amazing. You make me feel like I have been floating on air and I never want to come down. I love you so much. Will you continue this journey of life with me, as my wife?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

You bent down to kiss him and he slipped the ring on your left finger. A few seconds later Valerie called, already aware of what Todo was planning to do. You set the date of the wedding six months from the day of the proposal.

The wedding was small and filled with only close friends and family. It was the happiest day of your life and everyone preferred Todo over your ex husband, even your father, who never liked any of your boyfriends.

“I like this guy a lot Y/N, I mean I’ve always liked him.”

“Dad you threatened to hunt him down when we first started dating in high school.”

“Oh honey it’s just dad stuff but that was a promise and it still stands.”

“Dad! He’s not like that, he makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world and like I’m a precious gem.”

You both looked over at Todo sharing a dance with your mom and when he looked at you, you could see your future in them. Wherever he would go you would be there beside him as his wife.

“this ring you gave me a few months ago is proof of our love and the ring I gave you on your left ring finger is also proof of my love and dedication to you.” Todo leaned forward and kissed you holding you in his arms.

“I never thought that one person could make me feel so loved and make me feel so much love for them Y/N.”

Now married life was doing the both of you well. Nothing could tear the both of you apart. Not even the news on your one year anniversary that you both were going to have your first child. If Todo felt like he was on cloud nine before then holding your beautiful, healthy son in his arms made him feel he was in seventh heaven.

A/N pt2: thank you all for reading this, I’m really excited about how this work turned out I hope you all enjoyed it. This is by far my longest fic so I really appreciate you reading it through. I have much more on the way, if you have any requests my ask is open! Again thank you so much for reading I appreciate you all! — D <3

#aoi toudou x reader #aoi todo x f!reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #x female reader #tw cheating #tw toxic behavior #tw toxic relationship #tw unprotected sex #Aoi todo smut

278 notes · View notes

starilicious · 3 years

Text

der lagi lekin (hunter x force-user!gn! reader + ep. 8 fix-it)

》 summary: tbb episode 8 fix-it featuring a force-user reader who used to be a jedi. reader is a part of tbb and in a relationship with hunter, but the squad–nor hunter–knows that reader is a force-user. (disclaimer: all of this was written before episode 9 was released! see a/n for an explanation ^_^) (another disclaimer: if you want just the hunter x reader comfort, please let me know and i'll finish it up and post it!)

》 word count: ~8k (yeah, it's a lot LOL)

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: in-universe swearing, mental breakdown, some slight sensory overloads, pretty mild panic attack, light canon-typical violence, angst + some comfort, survivor's guilt from surviving order 66, no use of y/n, slightly plot heavy because i got way too carried away in writing (whoops?) [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: major ones for tbb episode 8 "reunion"

》 a/n: okay look, i gotta confess: this wasn’t supposed to be an episode 8 fix-it. really. i’m actually glad cad bane won because we get to see that the clones don’t always win every fight... i think it makes for a better and more complex story. anyway, i started out writing just reader and hunter comfort after episode 8 ended. but i’m weak for omega because she reminds me so much of my younger siblings and i ended up writing a wholeass fix-it to save her (even tho cad bane is a downright badass). i kind of liked what i did with building up the plot so much that i might continue this story of force-user!reader with tbb. but that’s a tangent we can deal with later. if you would like a part two with the hunter x reader comfort this was originally intended to be, let me know!

as i said in the summary, i wrote all of this before episode 9 came out–just be aware of that. because it’s so long, it took me a while to edit, which is why i’m posting after ep. 9 was released. but without further ado, i hope you like it! <33

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "der lagi lekin" from the film zindagi na milegi dobara. i linked the song in blue and linked the english translations in green in case you're curious! it's not necessary to listen or understand the song, but i thought it went well with the fic :)

“Everybody get down!” Wrecker yells. You and the squad immediately do as he instructs, diving towards the ground and covering your head. Stars, I hope this works.

The charges the six of you placed around the gigantic cone that surrounds the core cylinder explodes in a deafening blast. You curl into the tightest ball you can manage, breathing so hard that the HUD inside your helmet temporarily fogs up. Metal shards of the explosion rain down on you hard.

For a moment, it seems like nothing happened. But then you hear the telltale, ear-grinding creak of the durasteel and the squad is roughly catapulted forward from the force of the cone beginning to fall down.

You struggle to stand up as you lurch this way and that, trying to regain your balance and stabilize as Tech calls out, “Hold on!”

You quickly glance at the rest of the Bad Batch, trying to see if any of them were hurt. Other than the absolutely terrified look on Omega’s face, all is well considering the circumstances. The metal groans and begins its descent, taking your feeling of being grounded with it. The weightlessness is uncomfortably familiar to say the least, but you ignore it as the six of you scramble to hold on to the side of the cone. You certainly did your fair share of acrobatics back in the war, but feeling it hum around you...it’s too much. It’s too much. You elect to push it back into the depths of your brain. But it doesn’t leave.

It never really does.

Omega’s anxious whimpers come in faintly through your thick helmet and you whip around, frantically trying to find where she is. But before you can find her, the cone lands vertically on its head and the force is so violent that your stable hold on the durasteel is broken. Panicked, you quickly fire a grappling hook towards the ledge where you were previously hanging on. The hook catches and you stop abruptly, the jerky movement almost wrenching your arm out of its socket.

You look down to see Omega falling from someone’s grip and into Hunter’s arms. You can barely tell where anyone is thanks to the lack of light and the incessant motion.

The cone begins to topple onto its side and suddenly, your wire snaps from the tension. You let out a scream of surprise as you plummet downwards, wind rushing past your helmet. ForceIdon’twanttodieohmyMakerohno–

But you never hit the ground, instead being flung sideways as the cone tears into two. On trained instinct, you tuck yourself into a ball to try and roll in order to break your fall instead of using it. That time is long gone.

You land with a sickening thud and hiss in pain as your back hits the metal hard. You hear something crack, but whether it is your armor or something internal, you have absolutely no idea, and don’t have time to check before you black out.

✧✦✧

You jolt awake, a sound making its way into your consciousness. Finally, the damn place stopped moving. You take a few minutes to try and relieve the painful pressure in your chest, reaching up to rip your helmet off because you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.

You tilt your head back as you struggle to take in air and let the adrenaline subside. You hear voices in the distance and you strain your ears to pick up on the sound as you quickly check yourself over. As far as you can tell, nothing major is broken, and at this point, that is all that matters. Though, your head is pounding, and for more reasons than one

“–nter.. port side... what… status?”

You can’t tell who is speaking, the message too far away for you to hear. But the bits and pieces are enough for you to know that it’s someone from the Bad Batch and that you weren’t unconscious for long. You stand up and dust yourself off before slowly walking to where you believe the origin of the sound is.

“–engine… got company.” A blaster sound and then an explosion rings through the quiet.

Your eyes widen and you quickly pick up the pace, getting your blaster ready as you pick your way through the sharp metal that is jutting out from the ground.

You click on your wrist comm. “Echo, you there?” A faint crackle before his voice comes through, but the signal is scratchy. You frown in frustration.

“–are you? Hunter is... port side,” Echo says and you smack your commlink to try and get the electronics to work, but it’s no use. The device is broken, most likely from the fall, you deduce.

“Meet… Marauder.”

You don’t bother to answer, knowing Echo would probably not even be able to hear what you had to say anyway. Without a signal booster or repeater, there’s no way you can get your transmission across the channel frequency.

It takes a few minutes, but you eventually find the night sky of Bracca blinking down at you at the end of the ripped off cone. You run out to find that you’re in the middle of where the cone broke in half. Okay, new plan. I need to find Hunter. Hunter will know what to do.

You scan your surroundings. The HUD isn’t picking up on any lifeforms near you, and you realize with sinking dread that you have no more options. Whichever piece you climbed through to get to your squadmates, it would take too long for you to search for them since you don’t know their coordinates and your comm isn’t working. Frankly, the Empire–Crosshair–would find you first. You have to use it.

You have to use the Force.

A wave of nausea overcomes you at the mere thought of it and you sway. In an attempt to ground yourself, you tear off your helmet to breathe some fresh air and end up keeling over as the bile rises in your throat. Nothing comes out. You can’t tell if that’s a positive or not.

You could have saved them. Someone. Anyone.

It itches at you in the back of your head, wishing to be let out of its cage. But you can’t. You can’t do it. What’s the use anyway? All you would be doing is saving yourself. The choice of surviving it all has haunted you ever since. Your head pounds in agony.

You saw it happen. You could have helped them. And you ran like a coward. Only ever concerned about yourself.

You inhale sharply as the scene flashes before your eyes, clones shooting at you and the other Jedi. The blaster fire. The confusion. The screams.

How pathetic.

The last statement, an echo of Crosshair’s words, bounces around in your brain. You clutch your head as you let out a heartbroken sob, knee deep in the dirt and metal and grief. Tears create clean tracks down your face as you finally break down, the flood of emotions bursting the dam open. At this point, you don’t know if the emotions are yours or the ones you previously felt through the Force, all of them swirling and blending into one. The bottled up anguish merged together when you attempted to cut yourself off from the Force after the clones–your friends–attacked.

The pain of their death is perhaps the worst of all. Horror courses through you as you finally process your friends and mentors dying around the galaxy, their deaths, their distress, their fear reverberating heavily throughout the Force. Each one cripples you further as you once again struggle to breathe.

It feels like light years pass when you finally calm down to a practically numb state of being. The scenes stop replaying behind your closed eyelids and the echoing shrieks die down to a faint, hollow whisper. You’re suddenly exhausted, limbs heavy and energy sapped. It was almost relieving to finally let the Force once again flow through your body, your nerves lightly tingling with potential despite how tired you feel. You collapse onto the ground and try to recenter yourself.

But despite finally acknowledging the loss, it doesn’t feel right. You didn’t get to say goodbye. You hadn’t been able to even think about them, much less honor them, too focused on going on the run to concentrate on anything beyond the next day’s survival. Even once you joined the Bad Batch, you were paranoid about their chips, about your friends turning on you at any moment. You were always extremely reluctant to engage in the Force, even at the worst of times.

With a start, you realize that you don’t need to worry about your squadmates. Their inhibitor chips are now gone. You… you are safe.

You let out a shocked laugh as it sinks in. A glimmer of hope, of peace. I’m safe.

You sit up then, criss-crossing your legs as you survey the broken landscape of Bracca. Despite the planet being a graveyard, you feel lucidly alive. Perhaps something died in you, that wretched day. But something else, slowly but surely, began growing in its place. It’s meek, but it’s there.

You let out a breath and close your eyes, reaching for the Force like it’s an old friend. It accepts your invitation with hesitation, joining hands with you as if you did not try beating it to death for days on end. You sink into the gentle lapping waves of the Force, extending into it and widening your scope.

There’s something that lurks beneath the surface, in the deep. Dark and sinister and so utterly painful. It calls to you, quiet and low. Enticing. Tempting. And something in you knows that it’s the reason for your previous life’s demise.

But you can feel Hunter’s–and Omega’s, you realize–presence near you in the Force. Even with your relatively damaged connection to the Force after Order 66, the Bad Batch’s Force auras were something you could always hone in on. You let yourself direct your focus to the duo, letting their emotions be your beacon to the acceptance of the Light side of the Force.

In a split second, you decide to not dive deeper into the Force. This isn’t the place nor the time to discover what is prowling in the endless yawning of the Force, to discover why everything happened. So you direct your concentration to the beings on the planet, feeling and breathing your way through the Life Force.

You freeze. There’s something here. No… someone. Your eyebrows furrow as you divert your attention away from your friends and other organisms to the peculiar source. Something about this person strikes you as familiar.

Your eyes snap open and you gasp. I’m not alone. A Force-sensitive. Someone survived. Giddy beyond belief, you snatch up your helmet and begin trekking your way across the wreckage in the opposite direction of Hunter and Omega before pausing. Whoever this person is doesn’t know about your presence on the planet.

And despite the fear you felt emanating off of them in the Force, you somehow knew they were safe, at least for now. And they would remain so if you have anything to say about it. Maker forbid anything that jeopardizes this person’s fragile safety. After all, you know best what it’s like to constantly flee scene after scene.

Staying away is the best thing to do. I’ll come back for you, whoever you are.

You double back and make quick work of getting across the debris as you focus your concentration on Hunter’s and Omega’s Force signatures. As you get closer to the port side, you hear Omega’s high voice. Through your HUD, you can see her small form. You grin. She disappears then, and on closer inspection, you figure she jumped through some broken cargo doors.

The entrance she and Hunter took is too high for you to jump up to, even with the aid of the Force. Combined with your wariness of probe droids, you decide to take a different route from the right side, climbing up the broken ship. The slick oil mixed with the water still present on the metal makes for a difficult trek, and you slip more times than you would like to admit.

Hunter’s gruff voice floats up towards you and you scramble the last few meters to the edge of a hole in the ceiling before pausing. The Force is itching at the back of your head. Something’s wrong.

You peek over the edge of the giant slab of durasteel that created the hole to see bodies in white armor littered everywhere–clones, you realize. Your heart pangs in sadness at the sight.

Slightly to your right, a blue figure and a techno-service droid stand in front of a ship and a frightened Omega stands behind a defensive Hunter. Your mouth drops open. Kriff.

Cad Bane.

A memory from near the beginning of the war hits you in full force. You and Anakin had taken some time on Coruscant to catch up with each other after you passed your trials and were promoted to Jedi Knight. He told you about a mission where he had to stop a bounty hunter who successfully stole a Jedi holocron. You remember how surprised you were when you heard the bitter disgust in Anakin’s voice. The ruthlessly cunning bounty hunter not only threatened to kill Ahsoka, but he murdered Master Ropal.

Judging by the looks of it, Hunter doesn’t know who he is. If the Anakin Skywalker had a difficult time with Cad Bane, there is no way in sithhell Hunter can take him on, even with his enhanced senses. Frankly, you seriously doubt you can either, especially with how rusty your Force skills are now. And that means this isn’t going to end well.

You watch carefully as you tune into the conversation.

“Ain’t you smart?” Bane smirks. “The kid’s got it all figured it out.”

“You’re in trouble now!” the droid exclaims, pointing at Hunter and Omega. You grit your teeth in annoyance.

“Who hired you?” Hunter asks. Stalling. Not a bad move, Hunter.

“Son,” Bane sighs, already done with the brief conversation. “That’s confidential information. Now hand her over.”

Omega stays behind Hunter, taking a knee as Hunter walks forward protectively. You bristle. How am I supposed to help from up here?

“She’s not going anywhere.”

Your eyes drift over the scene in a panic and you take in the fallen clones again. An idea pops into your head. It is desperate, but at this point, you don’t have much of a choice.

Bane mimics Hunter’s movement, walking forward and putting a hand near his belt. The tension is as thick as duracrete.

“That’s unfortunate… for you.”

You grab the long barrel piece from your belt, fitting it over your blaster hurriedly as the showdown begins. Out of the corner of your eye, you see them staring each other down and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Men.

During the war, Crosshair helped you re-engineer your weapon so you could put together various pieces in the field to make a blaster gun that loosely resembled his own sniper. Seeing the clones reminded you of him. A wave of sadness washes over you, but you shake your head. Now is not the time.

You screw on the telescopic sight and set up your makeshift sniper. You peer through the viewfinder and find Bane’s chest. Your finger tenses over the trigger.

You let yourself sink deep into the Force, let it guide your actions. Inhale. Exhale. I can do this. As you relax, the mellow warmth you missed so dearly washes over you, gently eroding the torment in your mind and heart, guiding your focus to the here and now. Trust in the Force.

Wait.

Now.

You fire two bolts straight into your target the same exact moment Bane and Hunter shoot each other. Hunter’s shot hits the droid, breaking off its leg. Bane’s shot hits directly in Hunter’s chest, as yours did Bane. Both men immediately fall backwards and slam into the ground.

“My booster!” Oh. So not a leg. Got it.

“Hunter!”

Kriff kriff kriff. You jump down nimbly from your hiding spot in the ceiling and immediately sprint towards the duo. Is he dead? You would unapologetically release sithhell on Bane if he killed the man you love.

Omega panics as she tries to wake Hunter up, continuously calling his name before taking a glimpse of her surroundings. Before you can react, she grabs her bow and pulls it taut, aiming at you. She looks petrified.

“Whoa! Omega, it’s me!” you exclaim, holding your hands up in surrender. She takes a moment to actually look at you before sagging in relief. Suddenly, the droid comes speeding out of nowhere and Omega shoots, the energy bolt whizzing past your waist and straight into the droid before it can attack you from behind.

The shot rings true and the grumpy robot falls. You turn around to grab at its exposed parts under its head and yank them out to make sure it can’t power on again.

“Thanks, Omega. I owe you one,” you say and Omega gives you a proud smile.

You place a comforting hand on her shoulder before kneeling down to shake Hunter awake, but it doesn’t work. You take a moment to analyse Hunter’s Life Force. It’s a bit dimmer, but it’s constant, meaning he’s out cold and doesn’t have the life draining out of him. You let out a sigh of relief. He’s alive. You glance back to see Bane still not moving. Good.

“What’re we gonna do?” Omega whispers as you both peer down at Hunter. His armor is smoking from Bane’s blaster shot and you exhale through your teeth, trying to come up with a plan. You slip off a glove to check Hunter’s pulse–it’s strong. You don’t want to leave Omega alone, even if Bane is unconscious, but you aren’t sure you have a choice.

“Well we can’t carry him to safety, neither of us are strong enough for that,” you think aloud, gears churning in your head. You would have to wait for help, even if you were sitting ducks.

Briefly, you entertain the thought of taking Bane’s ship. The only problem is you don’t know what trackers or other gadgets are in there–it’s too costly of a risk and a price you weren’t willing to pay. You sigh, resigned.

“Omega, you try to comm the others and see if you can wake Hunter up. I’m going to go inside this guy’s ship and see if I can find something that can help us. We have to get out of here before the bounty hunter wakes up,” you instruct and Omega nods, youthful determination flooding back into her eyes.

You leave her to it, walking cautiously towards Bane’s ship. You look down at him. His armor is smoking in two places from the shots you fired. Based on what you see, he’s still unconscious, and his Life Force reflects the same conclusion. How long that would remain, you don’t know. Which means you need to work fast.

You board the ship while you remove the sniper attachments from your blaster and clip them back onto your belt. You keep your guard up as you look around. No droids. Guess that techno-service droid is his one and only.

In an effort to slowly re-familiarize yourself with the Force, you send out a quick pulse through it to see if there are any lifeforms aboard the ship, relaxing when you find none. You rummage through all the cabinets that you discover, looking high and low as you try to locate something of use. The secret compartment in the cockpit proves to be the fruitful reward to your search. With a wave of your hand, you unlock it with ease. Bingo.

Credits. Bags of them. And they’re unmarked creds, which make your score even better. Hopefully, it would be enough to pay off your debt to Cid and give the Havoc Marauder some much-needed upgrades.

Usually, you would feel bad about stealing from someone, but considering this was a bounty hunter – Cad Bane, no less – you figure you can risk treading the grey area of your moral code.

You grab as many bags as you’re able, stuffing them inside your backpack and clipping the rest onto your belt. At this moment, you’re incredibly grateful to Tech and Echo for designing a sturdy utility belt that fits you well. The standard ones were for clones and you definitely were not a clone.

You exit the cockpit and head to the second level of the ship to see if there’s anything else you can find. A stack of crates sits in the corner across from what you assume to be a prison. You scrunch your nose in disgust as you open one to find medical supplies. Bacta patches and gel, vitapaste, rations, water, gloves, sanitary napkins–it was all there. Delighted, you close the crate and click the repulsor to make it levitate. Oh how you love technology.

You turn around and walk back up the stairs to leave the ship. You freeze at the exit ramp. You have got to be karking kidding me.

“Sorry lil’ lady.”

Cad Bane stuns Omega in front of your eyes before rounding on you and immediately fires. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, you throw your hands up and the honeyed power of the Force rushes through every fibre of your being. The blaster bolts slow down to a snail-like crawl and your eyes widen. How did I…?

Never mind how you argue with yourself. Time to get out of here!

You tiptoe around each bolt, the effort of keeping them in stasis becoming more difficult with each passing moment. You grit your teeth as your arms shake, but you keep going until you are finally off the ramp. You lower your arms and the energy hits the inside of the ship, spazzing out the blinking controls inside.

Bane turns to you in surprise, astonished at how you’re suddenly in front of him. You don’t give him the luxury of processing the event and immediately punch him in the face with as much strength as you can muster. Bane pitches backwards and collapses onto the ground, just as he did the first time. You grab your stun blaster and shoot him as extra assurance. You really did not want this to repeat again. Hopefully he never wakes up with a memory of what I just did...

“Now stay down,” you mutter to a knocked out Bane, cradling your now injured hand. You have no idea how Wrecker ever does this because wow your hand is killing you.

You have to say, you’re pretty proud of yourself for being able to render him unconscious not once, but two times. You wish you could tell Anakin–the thought saddens you. He’s probably dead too.

With that vividly cheery thought, you stagger back from the ramp in exhaustion, weary from the sudden surge of the Force still ebbing and coursing through your body.

None of the Bad Batch knew you used to be a Jedi–not even Hunter. It was something only a few of your closest Jedi friends and the Jedi Council knew about.

But after what happened today, with Rex helping your squadmates get their inhibitor chips out, with you finally letting the Force in… maybe it is time to tell them. The secrecy wouldn’t be needed anymore now that you were sure you were safe around your friends. But clearly, the universe wanted to throw a nasty vibroblade in your plans by knocking Hunter and Omega unconscious and having the best kriffing bounty hunter in the galaxy be hot on your heels.

You take a few seconds to get your breath back and regain your mental energy. You aren’t out of the woods yet. You run inside Bane’s ship to grab the crate of medical supplies before sprinting back out towards Hunter and Omega.

You lean down and pat Omega’s cheek gently, trying to wake her up, but she’s out cold. Why is everyone around me unconscious? Frankly, you’re equally amused and terrified by the situation laid out in front of you.

You sigh, looking around to see if you can find some cover. There’s a giant sheet of durasteel to your left, big enough to act as a barrier in case trouble comes knocking. You bend down and pick Omega up before placing her down cautiously, leaning her small body against the metal. You repeat the action with the crate you found.

The third time proves to be much more difficult. Hunter certainly isn’t as muscular as Wrecker, but he sure as sithhell isn’t as light as Omega. You tap your foot nervously, trying to figure out a way for you to lift him. Yes, you could use the Force, but you don’t want to alert the other Force-sensitive on the planet. If they knew about your existence, it could put them in danger, and that was the last thing you wanted.

Giving up, you place your hands underneath Hunter’s armpits and effectively drag him all the way over, propping him up as you did Omega. You cringe at the sound of his armor grating the floor. There are sure to be dirty scuff marks on it now. Sorry Hunter.

Just as you’re about to sit down next to him, heaving deep breaths from the exertion, you pause. A warning is practically blaring in the Force and you tense, urgently trying to figure out the cause.

“Not again,” you mumble under your breath. You can’t handle any more action today. With Hunter and Omega both down, and your extreme fatigue from engaging in the Force, you don’t know how much of a fight you can put up. Not to mention you never trained as a soldier. There was a reason why you left the military planning strategies to the Bad Batch.

You hold your blaster close to your chest as you scan the environment. Bane is immobile and so is the dismantled techno-service droid. So what’s wrong?

Ten nerve-wracking seconds pass before you get your answer. Clone voices waft up to your hiding spot and you bite your cheek in frustration as your head continues to pound. Your headache still hasn’t stopped.

There is no way you can fight them all off, especially if Crosshair is with them. They are too far away for you to get a read on how many there are, and frankly, you’re much too scared to even peek around the durasteel to count.

One of Tech’s previous statements floats through your mind. About three attack shuttles worth.

You can feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest, blood rushing through your ears as anxiety ties your stomach into knots. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, Ican’tdothis.

You take deep breaths, doing your best to clear your mind and focus. You had to do this. There is no other option other than surrendering or dying. No, damnit, you would go down fighting until the Life Force left you.

You peer just past the edge of the metal to see at least twenty clones heading your way. Certainly not ideal, but you bide your time. If you started shooting now, you couldn’t use the element of surprise to your advantage and they would easily overwhelm you. But once they’re close enough, you hope you can at least take a couple out before having to resort to using the Force. It isn’t ideal, but it’s all you have.

Honestly, you don’t know if you could get out of this one alive, much less protect Hunter and Omega too. Maker help me.

It throws you off when they finally come into sight–you see how plain the clones’ armor looked without paint. You never really noticed it before since you were always running for your life in those circumstances. But now that you think about it, you are so used to seeing bright blue or green or yellow that the alabaster white just seems so… odd.

“Looks like a big fight happened here.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. All these men are dead.”

Now.

You whip your body around the metal and immediately begin shooting as fast as you can pull the trigger, trying to make every shot count. The troopers hesitate for just a moment, most likely due to their surprise of you being there. But that second is all you need.

You take out the three men closest to you before jumping back behind the metal as their barrage of fire rains down on you. You do your best to shoot back and manage to take out one more clone, but they’re beginning to gain too much ground too fast. I can do this. I have to do this.

As far as you can tell, Crosshair isn’t with the clones attacking you, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t set up shop somewhere nearby, waiting to shoot you.

You shudder. It’s a chilling thought.

You grab one of your last detonators from your belt and hurl it as far as you can. The rapid beeping rises quickly in pitch before the charge explodes. Anguished cries reverberate throughout the area, and you briefly feel sorry for having to take such drastic measures as you feel their Force signatures dim swiftly. But you don’t have a choice.

Peeking around the corner, you count around eight to ten clones down. Not bad considering the circumstances.

You continue shooting as much as you can but now the troopers are much too close for comfort and you’re feeling overwhelmed. The durasteel you are using for cover isn’t meant to take this kind of damage, and the integrity of your shield is quickly waning as told by the constant creaks and groans. You don’t know what to do. Will we make it?

In your haste of shooting first and panicking later, you don’t notice Hunter groaning, finally waking up. And before you have time to even glance at him, the familiar hum of the Havoc Marauder and its lights shine down on you. Your sag in relief. Looks like Omega was able to comm them after all. Never before have you been so glad to see the beat-up hunk of junk. (You would never say that to Tech though–the Marauder is his baby, his pride and joy.)

Echo, Wrecker, and Tech all race off the ship, guns ablazing. Wrecker and Tech stand guard, serving as cover fire while Echo bends down to help you out.

“Hunter, wake up!” Echo hisses and smacks his helmet lightly. Hunter mumbles in pain as he starts to move, trying to look around as his HUD boots back up. Seriously? Now you wake up? you think sarcastically. But you’re much more relieved at the fact that he has actually woken up.

“What happened? Where’s Omega?” Wrecker bellows, worried.

“She’s right here, I’ve got her!” you shout back at the same time Echo says, “He was shot in the chest plate.”

You pocket your blaster and gather the young girl in your arms with every last bit of strength you have left. You aren’t strong enough to hold her in one arm and shoot with the other. That is much more up Wrecker’s alley.

“We have to get him on board!” Tech exclaims as he helps Echo support Hunter. You pick Omega up in both arms and bolt for the ship as fast as you can while yelling at Tech to grab the crate of supplies.

“Incoming!” Wrecker calls out as a fresh wave of troopers advance towards the six of you. You grunt as you deposit Omega in a chair near the controls before pulling out your blaster and helping Wrecker shoot down the men racing towards you.

“Got him. Tech, fly us out of here!” Echo commands while Wrecker makes a gesture for them to get on the ship faster. Hunter stumbles as he does his best to upright himself.

“Go go go!” Wrecker exclaims. Tech shoves the crate next to Omega’s seat and makes a beeline for the cockpit as you continue shooting, moving to the side to make space for Echo and Hunter to come on board. Wrecker quickly climbs in right after them and the ramp closes shut.

Tech immediately pilots the Havoc Marauder up and away from the scene. You vaguely hear the sound of blaster fire hitting the bottom of the ship while you drop your blaster on the ground and wrench Hunter’s helmet off in a panic. You take his face in your hands as you scan him quickly, trying to figure out if he’s hurt or not.

Hunter bats your hands away. “He... he took Omega,” he says and you shake your head. Wrecker pipes up from behind you to respond.

“Who? Crosshair?”

“The bounty hunter,” Hunter mutters as he rubs a hand over his face. Before Wrecker can answer again, you step in.

“No, he didn’t. I took him down. And no, he’s not dead,” you tack on quickly when you see Echo open his mouth. Echo shakes his head fondly and you just grin at him.

“She’s right here,” Echo says instead, pointing to Omega’s sleeping figure. Hunter turns in surprise to see that his brother is indeed telling the truth.

“How...?” Hunter’s voice trails off. Echo and Wrecker look at you expectantly, and Hunter follows suit. You sigh and take off your helmet, setting it down on the ledge next to the controls. You don’t look at them.

“It’s a long story.”

You don’t have a chance to elaborate any further because Tech walks in, interrupting the conversation.

“I’ve made the jump to hyperspace. There was a cruiser in the atmosphere, but I was able to quietly go past them by disguising our ship as a bounty hunter’s. They didn’t interfere. I put in the coordinates for Ord Mantell. I estimate our time of arrival to be five hours and thirty two minutes,” Tech reports and Hunter nods while you voice your thanks.

“Looks like we got time!” Wrecker says cheerily, pulling out an extra chair. Tech looks to you in confusion.

“Did I miss something significant?” Tech asks, concerned about the information he did not receive as he adjusts his goggles. You shake your head but now, all eyes are back on you.

“She was just about to tell us how she saved Omega,” Hunter supplies helpfully and Tech nods in understanding. He grabs a chair as well and sits down, interested in hearing what you have to say.

You look around the room, realizing you can’t get out of it. You are exhausted and just want to sleep but based on the looks you are getting from the boys, there is no way you can leave without giving a sufficient answer.

You sit down on a chair in between Omega and Echo and begin explaining.

“When the cone fell, it separated. I got knocked out when I hit the ground, but I don’t think I broke anything,” you quickly reassure as Tech grabs a datapad to scan your vitals.

“After I came to, I tried comming Echo, but my commlink was broken – I could only hear bits and pieces of what he said. There were some voices near me so I just followed them and–” you pause, not sure if you should tell them what happened. What you experienced, what you found out. “–I saw Hunter and Omega. The ledge I found was way too high for me to jump to, so I climbed up the side of the wreckage to see them and the bounty hunter facing off,” you say, choosing to leave the detail out. It was too personal. You still needed time.

All of them are listening intently, hanging on to every word you’re saying. Hunter’s gaze on you is heavy and loaded with questions. Tech is still tapping away on the datapad, but you know you have his full attention. Multitasking may not be possible for regular humans, but it definitely was for Tech.

“When I saw the bounty hunter, I knew Hunter wasn’t going to win,” you mumble sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. Hunter winces at your statement and you rush to explain why.

“Hunter, you have to trust that I genuinely don’t doubt your abilities. You are much more of a soldier than I will ever be. But this bounty hunter is one of the best, if not the best in the entire galaxy. He’s gone against the Jedi, and won. Based on what Anakin told me at the beginning of the war, Cad Bane is ruthless. He tortured Master Ropal and killed him. Believe it or not, I think he tried to abduct Chancellor Palpatine. Even Anakin had a difficult time fighting him.”

A tense quiet settles over you all as you mentally revisit your conversation with Anakin, and later with Ahsoka. She told you how it was one of the first times she was genuinely afraid that she was going to die, or at least get hurt very severely.

Echo’s rough voice shakes you out of your reverie. “How do–did you know General Skywalker?” he asks, clearly confused at how you referred to him on a first-name basis. You mentally facepalm yourself. How did I forget he served as part of the 501st? You feel incredibly stupid.

You could make up a lie, of course, but it wouldn’t be worth it. Hunter’s enhanced senses and Tech’s vitals scan could probably pick up on your biological signs, not to mention you would feel terribly guilty about not being honest. I promised myself I would tell them…

You blow out a nervous breath, deciding to at least give them something. They deserved that much.

“I’m–well, I was a Jedi,” you admit, staring down at your feet. You can’t bring yourself to look at them, feeling almost… ashamed.

The boys are shocked into silence and you cringe. There was probably a much better way for you to say that, but now it was out there. Yet the pressure that had been weighing down on you since you let the Force back in didn’t lessen.

“What?” Wrecker questions, thrown completely for a loop. “You’re a Jedi?”

Before you can answer, Tech pipes up. “When I reviewed your medical data, there was no note about an elevated midi-chlorian count or any sort of connection to the Force. Additionally, there is no documentation of you serving as a General or a Commander during the war in the Republic military records. How were you a Jedi? And why aren’t you one now? You used past tense in your sentence,” Tech adjusts his goggles as he attempts to register this new information that conflicted with his previous knowledge.

You sigh, drumming your fingers on your thigh. “I left the Jedi Order before the war ended. I promise I’ll explain everything in detail later, but for now, you have to understand that I’m just a Force-user. I trained as a Jedi, but I’m not a Jedi, not anymore,” you clarify, lifting your head up to make eye contact with each of them.

“Aw man, that’s so cool. You have to show us your cool mind tricks sometime!” Wrecker smiles and you agree to his request. It warms your heart to see him so excited.

“It makes sense. You must have seen the regs turn on the Jedi but didn’t know why. When you started traveling with us, you didn’t know if we would turn on you too, even though we’re not regs,” Hunter realizes, and you nod in affirmation. You’re secretly relieved by the fact that he doesn’t seem angry, just… just thoughtful.

“And then when I saw what happened to Crosshair, I knew I couldn’t risk ever telling any of you. But when Rex told us about the chips…” you trail off.

Echo picks up your sentence quickly. “You figured out you would be safe with us if we got our chips removed. No wonder you were so insistent on following what Rex said.”

You smile at the last part, a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t wrong. You were probably even more insistent than Rex was on telling them to get their inhibitor chips out. Better to be safe than sorry you told them. Though at the time, you hadn’t even thought about how removing their chips would impact you and your abilities. You were too focused on keeping the Force out of your body to entertain that thought.

Wrecker suddenly gets up and gathers you in a bone-crushing hug. “Well you don’t have to worry now! We got those stupid chips out of our heads, which means I promise we won’t kill you!” he says cheerfully and you can’t help but laugh as you hug him back, the knot in your chest beginning to unravel. You could always count on Wrecker’s wonderfully big heart to raise your spirits.

“You’re right, big guy. It’s honestly a relief. One less thing I have to worry about.”

Wrecker lets go of you and you pick up where you left off. “As I was saying, Cad Bane isn’t a bounty hunter we can take lightly. Crosshair helped me re-engineer my blaster to turn it into a pseudo sniper with attachable parts during the war. Because I was so high up, I could get a clear shot of Bane. From that vantage point, I shot him at the same time Hunter and Bane shot each other.”

Echo’s mouth drops open. “Damn.”

“What I didn’t expect was for Hunter to be rendered completely unconscious. So I told Omega to try to comm you guys while I went on Bane’s ship to see if I could find anything. And I did.” You pull off your backpack and dump out the contents. Bags of credits come tumbling out. You unhook the few bags on your belt and toss them into the pile.

“Bane had a secret compartment with a lot of credits. So I took them and that crate I yelled at Tech to get,” you explain as you reach into the bag to show off the Imperial credits.

Tech’s eyes widen as he lifts up a bag to inspect it. “I will have to calculate how much you took and mark it in the inventory, but based on my initial deduction, this may be enough for us to upgrade the Marauder and provide sustenance for at least a few months.”

“Nice one!” Wrecker compliments and you grin in response. “What’s in the crate?” he asks, walking over to lift up the top.

“Medical supplies. We barely had any left so I figured I might as well take that too,” you shrug as Hunter gets up to join Wrecker to peer at the contents.

“What happened after that? You said you told Omega to comm the others, which means she was awake. Did she get hurt while I was out? Is that why you look so exhausted?” Hunter inquires, astute as ever.

You bite your lower lip. “When I was getting off his ship with the goods, he had woken up again. Before I could do anything, he stunned Omega and then immediately shot at me,” you pause, wondering if you should elaborate on how you got out of the situation. You decide to come clean on this part.

“I… I don’t know how, but I was able to stop the blaster bolts and keep them – and Bane – in stasis with the Force. The problem was that it took a lot out of me. After not really using the Force for so long, my energy reserves were pretty much gone,” you sigh, absentmindedly rubbing your arms. Your muscles are still sore from the event.

“After that, I punched him and knocked him out again. I dragged you and Omega away from the ship so that I could protect you, and I ended up using that giant piece of durasteel as cover to fight off those clones. Then you guys came and rescued us and that’s that,” you finish, suddenly fatigued from the conversation. You slump back into your chair, perfect posture be damned.

“Wow,” is all Echo says, surprised by your strength. It took some serious stamina to be able to withstand so much for so long. Echo remembered seeing Commander Tano and General Skywalker be exhausted after some especially intense missions where they constantly had to use the Force.

“Yeah,” you mutter, massaging your dominant hand. It is still throbbing from the mean hook you threw at Bane. You don’t have any regrets. You glance at Omega’s sleeping figure and soften. The things I would do for this girl.

“Looks like I taught you well!” Wrecker laughs and you smile. When you first met the Bad Batch, Wrecker took it upon himself to teach you basic self-defense and how to overtake an opponent intelligently. Even though you already learned how to fight as part of your Jedi and military training, you couldn’t say no to him when he looked so excited. But it paid off because he’s right. Wrecker did teach you well.

“You did. You basically saved my ass out there with your amazing teaching skills,” you chuckle, glancing down at your hand. You think you’ll probably have to cover it in bacta gel to speed up the healing process before having yet another realization. (You seem to be having a lot of those today.)

I can just Force-heal. Before, you couldn’t Force-heal because it would look suspicious if something healed too fast. But now that they know, you don’t have to solely depend on medical supplies anymore.

Tech, as always, is right on cue. “Is your hand alright? For you to render Bane unconscious must have been no easy feat. Not to mention that according to the medscan I just took, you have a mild concussion, most likely due to your fall. I can run a medical diagnostic test to start and then run more specific tests to combat your pain...” Tech mutters the last part to himself, brain running light years faster than his mouth as his fingers fly over the datapad.

You debate it for a moment before nodding. “That would be great, Tech–thanks. But right now, I’m exhausted, so I’m going to go and crash in my bunk. Wake me up if I need to punch someone again,” you joke before shuffling away from your squadmates. You ruffle Omega’s hair affectionately as you pass by her and pick up your blaster from the ground before climbing down the ladder. You don’t notice Hunter’s troubled gaze or how his Force signature sours a bit as you leave.

You quickly clean up and throw on some bacta patches on a few nasty bruises. You sit down on your bed and pull the privacy curtain before deciding to open up your secret compartment next to your mattress. You stare down at the objects, the only things you have left as a reminder of the past. You reach down for one of them, about to touch it when you stop.

You shake your head and shut the drawer. Deciding to finally, finally hit the hay, you’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Dealing with the Force and healing yourself could be done later. Not even your constant pain and crippling worry about your family friends could keep you up any longer.

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

72 notes · View notes