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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you.

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.”

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!”

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest.

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again.

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy.

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

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wh0re-4-techno · 3 years

Text

1. A NEW DAY ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))

Description: You, the reader, attend the campus at Indiana University. While attending, you meet Professor Technoblade, your new Ancient History teacher. Something to him seems so familiar but you couldn't place your finger on it until he points it out.

Words: 4615

next part

The leaves begin to change colors, the bright green slowly turning into the classic autumn orange and brown. The sunshine piercing the sky but the crisp breeze that follows cools down the air. Hearing the leaves fall down to the concrete sidewalks or the soft grass.

The tall buildings silent from outside and the halls but the classrooms fill with the teachers voices asking questions and the students answers.

You stare up at your white ceiling, boring, plain, dull. But, there was a small 69 carved into the ceiling. It's been there ever since you've arrived and didn't mind. Why would you? It was a stupid but quite funny thing that another college student did on your bland ceiling. You lean back into your hands.

Your hands were placed on the back of your neck, fingers playing with the back of your hair. Feeling the warmth of the sunshine on your legs as the window of your student house was open. Smelling the autumn air fill up your room.

It was quite relaxing. Finally having one day off of your busy week. All your classes has been hectic to say the least, but today was starting off nice. Closing your eyes. You wherein peace with this moment in time, that it didn't matter what else was happening outside of this room.

Hearing the familiar sound of keys rattling, opening your eyes lazily as the dorm room door opens. "What are you doing back so early Minx?" Your roommate, Minx, stormed in. Her boots hitting the ground so hard that her stomping made echoes. Her face was fuming red, her lips pouting. She gripped onto her book bag so harshly that her knuckles turned white.

You lift yourself up with your elbows, letting out a sign. Just staring at her, waiting for her to respond or cool off. She threw her bag onto her bed in frustration, grunting doing so. "I thought you had class this hour?" You ask, "Well obviously I'm not going to class." She snapped back, rolling her eyes.

Minx was older then you. She was in year 4. Studying to be a politician or any part of the government, you really didn't understand what she was talking about half of the time. But she loved to ramble on about the subject, normally she was a chatterbox, would go on and on and on about one thing she did in class or anything in particular. But right now she stood in silence. As long as you've known her she's been arrogant. She wouldn't tell you exactly what's wrong and you had to piece up the puzzles to figure out why she was acting out. You did care for her, but now that she was acting like a toddler who didn't get what they wanted, you weren't going to deal with it.

Muttering a "Fine." Laying back on your bed, letting your body relax once again and closing your eyes. She grunts again, but you don't open your eyes. You listen to hear her jumping on her bed, turning your head to the side to face her. Opening your eyes to see her. She was laying down, head to the ceiling, legs crossed. Her nose was turning pink, you knew she was starting to cry, it was one of the tell told signs of hers.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" You try your best to ask. "It's embarrassing." She choked, hearing her sniffle on her tears. You turn your head back to the ceiling, "I promise I won't laugh." Both of you continue to look up at the ceiling, wondering what to say next.

Minx whipped away a tear as she spoke, "You promise? Pinky promise?" She asks, you smile to yourself. It was one of the things you two would do. Any time there was a secret or basically anything that you could only share with each other, the both of you had to pinky promise. It didn't have to physically be a pinky promise, but you did have to say it with the true meaning as if it was. "I pinky promise." You raise your hand, poking out your pinky finger. She does the following, you could hear her softly chuckle at the moment.

"Okay. So you know that I've been studying for this test, right?" Both of you bring your hands down as she began to explain. You nod, "Yeah you stayed up till 3 am each day." You lightly shake your head. "Again I'm sorry." "It's okay." You could tell she started to choke up again, holding back tears. "Well. I failed that test." Back again with the crying, her hands cupped her face, hiding away from the world.

Thinking for a second you push yourself off your bed. Bunching up your blankets as you stand up. Minx didn't bother to look at you.

You hop your butt up on her bed right next to her. You weren't the best with words during this type of timing. That being when someone is sobbing in front of you and you don't know if they want to be held or not touched at all. Or what words your should say, because if you say something wrong then it over for you.

Placing one of your hands on her shoulder, slightly jumping at your touch but eases into it. You rub her arm up and down, trying to sooth her down. She removes her hands from her face. Her makeup running down her cheeks, her lipstick smudged.

You give her a pity smile, "Minx, it's okay. Really." She looks up at you, her eyes are red and puffy. You truly hated seeing your dearest friend in this type of state and looking like this. It just broke your heart. "Hey, hey, it's not the end of the world here. It's only one test." You let out a breath, you might not understand why failing one test was worth crying for but you still wanted to help out your friend. "It's not that simple y/n." She grasps her hand into a fist. "I can't just fail a test! I've never fail one of his test before, I don't understand how I got a 36 percent..." She frowns, looking away from you and back to the ceiling. "Have you talked to your teacher?" You question, but you were sure that she already did so. "Yes, and he said most people failed too. Like that's gonna make me feel better!" She throws her hands up, clearly getting more frustrated.

"Do you want me to call Schlatt?" You ask, Schlatt was one of her guy friends, he would come over sometimes to help Minx or just when they wanted to party. But right now he could help her more then you. She quickly swiped her head left to right, basically telling you no. You quirk an eyebrow up, she would love when he would come over. "Why? Schlatt always makes you feel happy. Let me call him." You reach for your phone from your back pocket, Minx grabbing your arm in the process. You stop and pull your arm away, mouthing "Okay." to her.

Pondering over the opinions on what to do, finding the best other people you could call. "How 'bout Kiara?" You give her a reassurance look, she still shakes her head. You huff out, confused about what she wants to be honest. "Can I call anyone?" You search for an answer but it was simply that she didn't want you to call anyone.

"Why can't I call any of your friends?" You ask, "Because they're going to poke fun at me. I love them, but they don't need to know that I'm crying over a test." She pleads with her eyes, begging you not to tell anyone. Especially the two boys. "You pinky promise." She brought up the pink promise, which you damned yourself about. "Alright, I won't tell them." You defend yourself, lifting you hands aswell.

You hop off of her bed and sit back on yours, leaning back on your hands. "What do you want to do then?" You question, her face still blotchy with red and her eyes puffy. "If we go anywhere you're doing my makeup!" She pointed at you while rubbing her eyes, whipping away any blurriness left from crying. You nod in agreement, I mean, it was one thing you could do to make her feel better. "Then pick a place." You lean down, pushing your bedding away, your hands search as she thinks.

You finally find the box, pulling it out from under your bed. It was a medium size caboodle carrying on case. Both of your hands place it on your bed, opening it up to revealing your makeup.

You flip your hand, gesturing to Minx to come to your bed. Which she did, happily sitting down in front of you. Grabbing a makeup whip to get rid of any remaining makeup that was left on from her crying. "Think of any place?" You ask while cleaning up her running mascara. "Coffee?" She shrugged in response. It wasn't a bad idea, you haven't had any coffee for today, so why would it hurt to show up. "Yeah the seems alright."

-----

Running down the concrete, watching as the leaves drift down slowly with ease. But flying back once you pass them. Your shoes making a slight slapping nosie as both of you race through the campus. Your eyes are looking right ahead, rushing to get to the coffee shop. Minx, who's beside you, starts to catch up to you.

She was actually pretty fast so you were confused as to why she started to slow down, but you turn your head back to the sidewalk, quickly dodging to the side. "Holy shit I'm sorry man." You said half out of breath and chuckling. Your attention goes back to Minx who just passed you and giggles.

The man who you almost ran into looks down at you, nodding off. "Yeah sure." You gave the man a quick look over, then to see he was on the phone, you back up away from him, embarrassed to say the least. He pulled away his phone to say "It was alright." but as you quickly as apologize you where back to running.

The both of you didn't think much of it.

You jump off the sidewalk to avoid the other students who where walking. Continuing to dash, passing through the people whom was sitting on the grass and who where having a small get together or a picnic. Some telling you not to be running, but you just scoffed at them with little to no care.

You watch as Minx reaches the café, you throw your hand up in defeat. You roll your eyes as she does a lil dance of victory, rubbing it in your face.

Walking up to her, "That bullshit. That rando almost ran into me!" She starts to laugh at how angry you were getting. "Correction. You almost ran into him." You stick out your tongue to her, she, of course, keeps laughing at you. As you walk away, heading toward the café she tries to contain herself from laughing. "You better stop it or I'm not paying for your coffee!" You snap at her, half serious half joking.

The both of you stand in line, quite a few people where getting coffee. The smell of espresso beans was strong, almost hitting you in the face strong. But it wasn't so bad, it was rather sweet.

Turning your head to Minx, who was now scrolling through Instagram. You look closer to see that she was checking out Schlatt's posts. Some were with just him, others were random people that she nor you knew. One post in particular she kept staring at, it was Schlatt with a girl. Her arm was wrapped around him as he looked into the camera surprised. You stop looking, making sure she knew you whereas curious as she was. "So what do you want?" You ask nonchalantly, already knowing what she wanted, a vanilla bean mocha. "A vanilla bean mocha." And you where right.

"Could I get a cookie too?" Minx asks while shimming her shoulders, you chuckle but roll your eyes as well. "Unless you're paying for that cookie." You walk towards, slowly but surely getting closer to the register. "Com'on! You lost fair and square." You had to hush her from getting too loud, "No, the agreement is whoever gets to the coffee shop first pays for a drink. That's it. We never said anything about cookies or whatever." You told her, which she remembered the first time the both of you did this. And it was true, you only had to pay for drinks. "But I'm sad." You give her a look, "You can't use the "I'm sad" card with me, Minx." You turn away from her, taking another few steps.

You were next in line to get your order, eventually making it so it was time for you to place your order. "Sup.." You look at the guy's name tag, "Ted. Could I get a vanilla bean mocha and a y/f/d please?" You tell the barista, he was tall. Very tall. Dark brown hair. Very fluffy, but sleek. His glasses where a circle frame, they fit him very well. "Okay... Yeah, that'll be 9.58." He looked up from his register, you hand him your card. The transaction was quick and you were already sitting down before your drink where being made.

"How's your other classes going?" You ask, Minx still was glued to her phone, you clear your throat. Drawing her attention, she look back up at you and places her phone down on the table. She hums, asking you to repeat yourself. Which you did, "Oh, pretty good. Have As and Bs nothing to bad." She glances back down at her phone. "How's Economic going?" It was one of the difficult classes, well that's what people who took the class said. You weren't into anything like that. "About that same, I have a huge written assignment due next week. I need to get ahead of that." You nod to her, you understand that struggle with these projects. "What about you? Anything new happen in your classes?" Minx asks, pulling her full attention to you.

"Not a lot actually. Well other then my schedule changed." You lean back into the chair. You went exactly excited to get your schedule changed after the few weeks into college. And that class being Ancient history. "Really? To what class?" She seemed more interested to what class it was compared to you. You answer, "Ancient history." She seems slight taken aback when she heard that come out of your mouth. "Really? Ancient history?" She even has to think for a few seconds to take this in. "Huh. I would never have pictures you being into that..." She looked back at you. "Yeah, it was that or Astrology." You cross your arms, "Why didn't you pick Astrology?! That sounds so much more fun!" You where about to answer, but the barista called out your name. You hold up your hand to Minx, gesturing that you'll be right back.

You grab both of your drinks and go back to the table. "I was about to say, Ancient history is easier. Stuff that already happened." You hand her her drink. "You can just Google the answers. I swear y/n you are lazy." The both of you chuckled.

You take a swig of your drink, it was just perfect. The taste was everything.

"Eh, I will rather be studying mummies than space or whatever." You check your phone, the time saying '8:17 am'. Minx laughs at your point. "You say that now but later you'll be the one crying that you failed your test." You gave her a sarcastic laugh. "Hey, could you remind me at 10 that I have to meet my new professor?" Minx looks at you with slight confusion. "Why are you going to meet? You just show up to class?" She takes a slip midway through the sentence. I mean that is normally true, if you were new to a class or switched you just showed up. "My counselor said it would probably be best that I meet him before so I would be prepared for my first day there." She 'oh' to your explanation.

"Are you sure you pick the right class? I mean you have to show up to talk to your Professor before the first day." She did make a good point, it was a little questionable that you did have to show up before, but you couldn't change your class now. Minx saw you as you were taken into deep thought about what she said, trying to distract you, "So. Are you talking to any boys lately?" You blink out of your thought, you give her a questionable face. "What- Oh, no." You take a sip of your drink.

"And why is that?" You take a deep breath. She knew that you wanted a boyfriend for a long time now, but you just never really put yourself out there. You didn't do any of the dating apps. It's cliche to say, but you wanted to meet someone in real life, that being from the grocery store or a fancy restaurant. "I don't know, how 'bout you ask the boys all over campus?" You joke, "I might!" She plays back with you.

-----

As the both of you finish the rest of your drink you look back down at your phone. '9:57' You've been here for about an hour just talking about life, which you didn't mind one bit, but you felt like you missing or forgetting something but you could put your finger on it. You just push away the thought because you couldn't think of anything.

You stand up to throw yours and Minx's empty cups in the trash, she meets you as you walk out of the café. "Next time I'm winning." Your cocky voice was loud and maybe too confident. "You said that last time, remember?" She laughs at her own words as you just snarl. "You and I know that this was a bad run." "Eh, was it though?" If your side glance could kill, Minx would be six feet belong at this point. She slightly took a step away from you.

You watch as Minx takes her phone back, you didn't pay to much attention to it until she cursed.

"Oh shit!" Minx looks at her phone then looking back up at you. Her eyes are wide. You just give her a questionable face, "It's already 10!" You think for a few seconds, nothing. "So-" She cut you off before you could talk. "You have to go meet your new Professor!" It took a mere second for it to process. And when it did, you took in complete surprise. Not sure what to do, "I don't have my bookbag or anything!" You were looking around nervously, "Fuck this is how they're gonna see me, unprepared and can't tell time or that I'm lazy!" "Well get your ass going!" She flew out her hands, shooing you away.

You started to walk away, picky up the pace but before you ask, "You wanna meet at the grass later?". "Oh my god! Get your ass to class! And yes!" You rush through the sidewalk, almost running into multiple people in the process.

You murmur out curse words while running to the west side of the campus.

Pushing through the main doors to the building, the students stare at you as you keep running. The hardwood flooring makes you sound loud in each step. "Shit..." You whisper to yourself, as your phone says '10:12'

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." You climb up the stairs, looking for the right floor.

The floor number being 2, you rush down the hallway. You swipe your head left and right, reading each door to find the correct one, which was room 237. You scan through the corridor, turning to your left into the next one. These doors say 226, 227, etc. You were getting closer at least. The squeakiness of your shoes meeting the floor was really loud and getting annoying. For sure you were interrupting many classes.

Finally stopped at a large wooden door. At the top saying "#237". You pull your phone back out from your pocket, '10:19 am' Your curse once more and breathe out. Your hand pulls open the door, the room was nicely lit.

Everything in your life was about to change, maybe for the better or the worst.

As you take your first steps in, you see the professor looking straight down, looking into a book, you didn't mind to see what the book was called as you were studying his office. It was quite tall, bookshelves lining the walls. Random plants hanging down from the shelves and some on the roof. He had books scattered across his desk, but not as messy as you would think. He had two comfy comforters to the sides, they also had a few books on them. One had a briefcase beside the books, the other had a couple of teacups. Interesting. A sword was placed leaning on the many bookcases, even more interesting.

He shuts the book, almost like he just noticed that you were there. Or that he let you look around his office, but none the least you had his attention now.

He looks up at you, your mouth slight parting. Your eyes were all over this man from his head, which was full of brown somewhat curly hair that just falls in place perfectly. How you imagined how soft it would feel around your fingers. It wasn't too short but wasn't long, it flattered his face quite nicely. As your eyes went down, you meet with his. They were a dark drown but there was a warm feeling with them, almost welcoming.

Breaking from the short amount of eye contact you see that he also had a tiny bit of stubble on his chin as if he forgot to shave this morning.

He seemed very young to be a Professor.

After your small look over. You weren't sure if he knew you were checking him out or not, but you go with the ladder and hope that he didn't. He most definitely knew you did so. "Please, do sit down." He half sits up and gestures to the seats that were in front of his desk. They were dark down leather chairs. As you sit, they weren't the annoying squeaky ones and were quite plush. You take another deep breath, your hands starting to shake from your nerves. "Now, can you tell me why you're late? I sure do hope that you won't do this every time we meet." He flashes a smile, he softly chuckles. His voice seemed odd but why did it seem like you've heard him before. But as you thought, nothing was coming up. You smile back, "I'm so sorry, I got my time mixed up."

"That's alright, this is just for you to figure out what this class is about." You quirked an eyebrow, he pulls one of his drawers opens and hand you a piece of paper. The paper was the information that was needed, aka all the items you need for the class. Include books and whatnot. "Do I have to get all of these right now?" You ask, turning the paper over and of course, it was double-sided.

You were so close to rolling your eyes, but figured it would be rude to do so in front of your new Professor. "No, most of the books are going to be later in the semester. But please don't worry, I provide most books to students." You look back up to him. Not a lot of teachers did that. I know it's the simple thing in life but that was really kind of him to do so.

As you look at him, his face. Something was telling you that you've met him before. And without your knowledge, he was in the same position. You sounded so familiar to him, but he couldn't place his finger on it. How he could picture that the two of you have met prior to this.

You look back down on the paper, reading everything that was listed. "You don't mind if I ask, why did you pick Ancient history?" Your eyes slightly widen, you didn't have an answer to this. Especially an answer that he would like. "I- I'm not sure. It was this or Astrology, but Ancient history just seems a tad bit easier. To be frank with you." You softly giggle at your own response.

He also smiles at your answer, normally he would get some bullshit answer, but for some reason, you just gave the impression that it was true. "Well, that's better than nothing." He jokes, which you chuckle too.

"Have I missed anything super important?" You ask, "To be quite honest, no. Nothing super important. We did start a project, but don't worry we just started getting into things. But you did miss when the tests will be scheduled." You let out a breath, calm yourself down. You were glad that you weren't missing like a test or anything, but that damn project. Hoping that it won't be too difficult to work with other students. "Um, let me grab you a paper with the dates of the test." He slowly says as he searches his desk to find the paper. Both of you connect eyes once again, you couldn't stop yourself from staring into them. He hands you the paper that was filled with dates. "That's a lot of tests..." You say in a low tone so he wouldn't hear you, but that failed.

"Yes I know, but they're short quizzes." He reassures you, he flashes you a toothy smile. "And if you are struggling on anything. I do have office hours you can come in and ask questions." You shake your head. "Or if you need any help with any other class really." He lightly chuckled, looking back to his book, which laid nicely on his desk. "I'm kinda the smartest one in this building." You giggle at his cockyness, he was a proud man, you could tell right away.

Both of you talk more in-depth about his class rules, etc.

"Alright then, any other questions?" You think for a few seconds, "Nothing that pops in my head." You start to stand up, he also stands up. Making his way past you to the door. He holds open the door, "Thank you, Sir." As you pass him.

It all connects. "Hold on..." He says, his hand slightly grabbing your arm, making you stop halfway through the door frame, he was close to you. His eyes traveled all over your body, "Wait... You're the girl how ran into me earlier today." Your eyes widen when you realize. No wonder why his voice was familiar to you. You feel your face start to heat up.

#mcyt #mcyt fic #technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno #techno x reader #x reader #professor technoblade x reader #professor #mcyt fanfiction

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blueeyedgeorgie · 3 years

Text

Safety-Dreamwastaken

A/N: This is IF Tommy and Dream escaped together

Word count: 2.4k+

Pronouns: They/Them _________

"What?"

Their breath was shaky as they spoke. At this point, Y/n was frozen in place. It had been such a normal day, Y/n had gone deep in the forests with Callahan to collect materials for some building. But when they returned, havoc was among them. People were running around in a panic, the prison was destroyed. Destroyed-Just the sight of the prison put Y/n in panic. All they could do was run, they needed to find someone, anyone who would explain what happened. It had taken minutes, but felt like hours. Finally, they had located someone-Tubbo.

"Y/n!"

"Tubbo!" They pulled one another into a hug, both were exhausted. They treated one another as family, Y/n being Tubbo's older sibling figure. "What happened?!" "I'm sorry Y/n, but Dream escaped prison."

It felt like a slap in the face to receive this news. The color in their face disappeared. This was bad news. "No... no, this can't be true.... I... how?"

"Something to do with Ranboo. Tommy and Ranboo are gone too. No one knows where they are."

Y/n took a step back, feeling their breath shorten. This couldn't be happening. Everything had gotten good, they were safe. They were safe from Dream. It felt so amazing, but now... everything was going to hell. If Dream was out of Prison, what were the chances he'd come after Y/n? They had known each other since the very beginning, they were friends, but soon it had turned into something toxic. He had manipulated them so much, to the point Y/n was broken down and suffering from a bit of PTSD from everything.

They could still remember the night before Dream planned to capture Tommy and kill Tubbo. They were hiding away in Dream's lair, where he planned to keep future items and belongings of members.

“Please don't do this, Dream.” They were on the brink of tears, “this isn't going to end well.” “This isn't going to end well for Tommy, Y/n.” Dream turned away from the portal, looking at his friend. “Why are you crying? We're friends, aren't we? I said you'd be safe.”

“I'm not crying over my safety,” Y/n stepped closer to Dream, looking up at him. “I'm crying over yours, I don't want you to get hurt.”

The blonde man made a 'tsk' noise, his hand shot up to Y/n's face, grabbing their chin. His green eyes stared down into their e/c ones. A look of disproval was on his face. “Crying is a weakness, Y/n. I thought I taught you better than that.” He wasn't wearing his mask, Y/n was one of the few people to see his face. The only reason they had seen his face was a way to get Y/n to trust him. “Everything's going to end well. Tommy will end up in prison and Tubbo... he'll most likely be dead by sun rise.”

“What?” Y/n froze at the mention of Tubbo. Dream could tell he had just struck fear in them. “Please, not Tubbo. Please, Dream.”

“I'm sorry Y/n...” He now cupped their face with both of his calloused hands, dragging his thumbs under their eyes to wipe away a few fallen tears. “It has to happen.”

“No,” their voice cracked as their eyes watered more. “Please no.” They pulled away from his grasp, tumbling a few steps back. “I've done everything for you. I put the TNT in the community house, I helped you build this hellsite, I did everything. Why? Why can't you do this one thing for me?” Tears were falling as Y/n raised their voice. “Why? Why do you need to kill Tubbo, my brother!" Y/n froze, that was the first time they had called Tubbo their brother, it felt good to say it.

his face showed no emotion as he watched Y/n. His lips parted, only mumbling a few words coldly; "Go home, Y/n. You're tired. You need rest."

“No! You don't get to push me away or order me to do something when we talk about something I want or that I care about! You can't do this to me!”

His gaze grew cold, his eyes beginning to glare, "Go home, Y/n."

"No."

"Fine," In one motion, he unsheathed his sword, beginning to walk towards the portal behind him. "If Tubbo is such a problem, I'll get rid of him now."

"No!" Y/n practically threw themself at Dream, grabbing onto his arm to stop him. "I'm going, I'm going. Please, I'll leave. i'll go home and sleep."

Dream smirked down at his friend, putting his weapon away. "Good. Get a good night's rest, you'll need it."

Y/n nodded, keeping their head down in embarrassment. It was cruel to think he could control them so easily. Right as they got to the portal, Dream had called for them one more time. "Oh and Y/n... If you think about spoiling my plans for tomorrow, I promise you I'll make sure Tubbo is dead before I go for Tommy. You know I always keep my promises."

Y/n winced at the thought, barely nodding. This was humiliating.

With Dream out of prison, there was only one thing Y/n planned to do; protect Tubbo. For the rest of the day, the pair walked around with Y/n holding a grip on their sword, constantly looking over their shoulder. Dream was a good fighter, better than Y/n no doubt, but they still needed to at least try and keep Tubbo safe.

When the day had come to an end, Y/n was still on their toes. Of course, Tubbo could tell, so he did the one thing he could think of. He took them up the highest hill, just to watch the sunset. It was one of their favorite things to bond over, they were both busy people, just being able to sit and catch up with each other was something nice.

"You know..." Tubbo picked at his pants as he spoke, he was a bit nervous to bring up the next topic in mind, but it had to be done. "You've never really talked about what was going on between you and Dream. Before he was in prison and everything. Tommy and I would see you and him together, but we understood why."

"You wanna know something, Tubbo?" Y/n sucked in a breath of air, they knew they had to talk about this eventually. "My role was to serve, that's all he needed me for. Yet..." they paused, looking into the sunset. Was it going to be a smart idea to say the next few words in their mind? "I still love him."

"What?" Tubbo's mouth fell agape. he felt something in his stomach lurch, his older sibling had fallen in love with his enemy. "I... I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to," Y/n could look Tubbo in the face, not right now. "I don't really understand it. I fear that man with half of my heart, the other half lives for that rush when I see him. He's like a drug, I'm willing to do almost anything for him. I live for his approval, I love when he says I've done good or tells me I deserve a reward, stuff like that."

"Y/n..."

"God, I'm so sorry, Tubbo. I really am. I... I don't know what's wrong with me." Y/n shook their head, realizing what they just said. "That... that was fucked up, I shouldn't have said that. Especially to you, you're just a kid, you've gone through enough trauma already. You don't need your sibling scaring you like this."

"No, it's... it's not okay, but it's whatever. I'm just happy you feel okay opening up to me about this. I'm gonna be honest here, Y/n... I'm not really sure what to say to any of this. It feels kind of like you've fallen in love with the enemy here."

A moment of silence followed, neither knew what to say. An unusual tension summoned, it felt strange. Normally, both Tubbo and Y/n were very comfortable around each other, but after Y/n's confession... it all seemed so strange.

Instead of breaking the silence, they sat there. Both kept their focus on the sun, watching it disappear from sight, the sky changing colors as the light left the sky. It had taken a while, but the sun had finally disappeared from sight. The pair sat there, staring off in different directions. The sky was filled with stars, it'd be impossible to see if they were closer to town than they already were.

"I... " Y/n paused, they didn't know what to say. There was so much they could say. "I think I'm gonna go to bed." Standing they muttered a brief 'good night'. They could hear Tubbo say 'night' to them as they walked away.

This would be the first time Y/n would be alone since they heard of Dream's escape. Honestly, it was going to be hard for Y/n to fall asleep tonight. They already knew they wouldn't feel safe in their own home. As they walked, they could still remember the time when Dream had convinced them to tell him all of the secrets of their house. He knew every passage, every hidden item, any secret entrances.

"This is where I keep my iron and armor," They opened a chest, revealed stacks of iron bars sitting by two chest plates. Dream loomed over them from behind, he glanced into the chest for a brief moment before turning to walk somewhere else.

For the past hour it had been like this; Y/n showing everything there is to show in their home while Dream inspected. Y/n wasn't too sure why they were doing this, but Dream found it important. Whatever seemed necessary in his eyes, Y/n had to comply; it was just the rules.

"Don't you think I've shown you enough?" Y/n chewed on their bottom lip as they spoke, they were a bit anxious to hear his response. It wasn't a good idea to go against him, but at this point, it felt like Y/n had shown him enough.

The dirty blonde paused, turning on his feet to face his friend. "Are you trying to tell me I'm wrong for trying to protect you?"

"What, I-... no..." "I'm only trying to protect you, Y/n. There's going to be people who will want to hurt you, I can keep you safe if I know where your belongings and materials are. I can keep you protected if I know where all the entrances are to your home. Don't you want me to keep you safe?"

Y/n muttered a sheepish; "yeah," as they kept their head down. Moments like these always made them feel so weak.

"And just remember..." Y/n could feel their gaze point upward, Dream had placed a hand under their chin, forcing them to look him in the eye. "I'm never wrong, I know what's good for you."

Their house would no longer be known as a safe space for Y/n. As soon as Dream was imprisoned, Y/n had changed a lot about their house-but there was still a good chance of Dream finding a way to break in. When their home came into view, Y/n picked up their pace. Even if their home wasn't technically safe any longer, it'd still be better than standing out and alone in the dark.

With the door closing behind them, Y/n let out a sigh. Hopefully, they'd be able to find some way to get their mind off of Dream. They made their way through their home, putting away items and even turning on a bit of music as they did. The music was loud enough for Y/n's footsteps to drown out as they walked, loud enough to even drown out the sound of opening and closing chests, putting their belongings away.

Something seemed off, it looked like a few items were missing. A few pieces of armor, enchanted items, and even weapons. Y/n shook it off, they were just overthinking. It was normal for them to accidentally overcount in their stock.

Y/n had placed a few more items down into the last chest, a few apples and carrots they had collected earlier that day. It seemed like everything was going to be okay... until it wasn't.

Just as Y/n closed the chest, the music stopped. They froze. Y/n was supposed to be the only one here, the music shouldn't have stopped by itself. But it did.

There wasn't much they could do, they could run and hide-he'd find them. They could escape-He'd catch them. They could fight-he'd overpower them. What was the best option? Running would make him mad, fighting would make his blood boil-hide. Y/n would just have to try and hide.

Quickly they scanned over the room, chests filled with items were stacked. The room was like a maze, there had to be some chest they could slide into. As they moved, they stayed quiet, one little noise could ruin their chance of safety. The room was big, if they weren't careful they would get lost. Step by step, row by row, they passed by the chests. Every few seconds, they would glance over their shoulder-looking for him.

Just as they went to look over their shoulder for the hundredth time, they froze. Y/n's blood turned cold-the door opened. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room, the sound f metal dragged on the floor. He had a weapon.

"Y/n. I know you're in here..."

Should they run? Should they hide? Should they scream for help and pray someone will hear them?

Holding their breath, Y/n listened to the steps. One wrong move and it was all over for them. Sooner or later, they began to move, trying to stay silent as they listened for Dream's footsteps.

"Come out, this can be so much easier. If only you didn't act like this."

Y/n held their breath as they kept their pace up.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you. You make me happy; and even more happy to you feel the same, right?"

They could feel their heartbeat rise.

"I know you better than yourself. I know you're in here."

Their pace quickened, listening to him.

"Luckily, it's only going to be me and you soon."

Faster-they were almost there.

"And before you know it-"

Their pace quickened, at this point Y/n was sprinting. Within seconds, they launched themself forward... only to land into someone's arms. An ax clattered to the ground as a pair of arms enveloped Y/n. Dream grinned, looking down at the person in his arms. Everything was going to plan.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Taglist: @ivory-raptor @behzynga @snowcones404 @delsinhunter @kiritokunuwu @part-of-too-many-fandoms29

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blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay skznta event, written for @stayndays !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it! ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”.

“Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them.

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock.

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.”

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose.

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date.

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too.

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter.

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it.

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion?

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own?

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it.

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous.

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long.

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now.

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch.

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across.

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all.

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.”

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned.

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon. You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod.

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up.

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days.

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly.

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it.

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly.

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.”

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?”

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.”

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course.

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz @stayverse @districtninewriters @kpopscape @skzwritersclub + @sunoo-luvs @sleepylixie @rae-blogging @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah @p2q3r4 @baby-innie (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Alpha Beta Charlie- A Frankie Morales Story

Summary: Frankie is a lonely man with a big heart. His life changes when a new girl comes into his life.

W/C: 4.1k

Warnings: This one is a little heavy. Lots of language, talk of poor mental health (Frankie has depression and anxiety), Frankie’s recovering from a coke addiction, alcohol is prevalent here, harm to animals, lots of talk of blood and injuries.

A/N: This story is different than I normally write. There’s no reader in the story, this is just a story about Frankie Morales and a moment in his life. Please note that this is darker as it centers around an injured animal. Be warned of that. P.S. some of my friends might see ur names in here :) thank u to all of my friends who helped me pick Charlie’s name, and to @ilikechocolatemilkh who helped me create this whole story!

Frankie Morales is a kindhearted man. Anyone who meets him knows it instantly. He’s got a wonderful laugh that’s warm and inviting, and it’s often on display to anyone who chats with him for more than a few seconds. He’s caring, it’s clear, with big brown eyes that radiate compassion.

His friends would describe him more as an idiot. Frankie, who they call Catfish from their days in the military, insists that they’re the idiots. He’s the voice of reason in their group, making the rational decisions and de-escalating fights within their group.

That’s not to say Frankie is entirely sunshine and rainbows. He’s now several months sober from a long and grueling addiction to cocaine. It ruined him: it took away his pilot’s license, his everything in life. Flying helicopters was Frankie’s passion, but he’s recovering. He’s on the right track.

He had a girlfriend, who became his fiancée, and left him not long after he returned home from a dangerous mission in South America. It didn’t matter anyway; her child, who Frankie had dedicated all of his heart to before the birth, was revealed to be another man’s. As much as she resented him for taking the mission, he resented her for cheating and lying and holding the information back.

So now Frankie lives on his own. He resides out in a more rural town, not far from where Benny has his weekly fights and Will (also known as Ironhead) works with young military recruits. It’s been a couple of months, and it’s hard to be alone. Santiago pops into town once or twice a month, and it’s always the highlight of Frankie’s very being. His best friend brings light and laughter into his life. When he leaves again, Frankie’s small home feels massive and quiet.

He plays lots of CDs. He has bluetooth speakers all around the home and blasts his favorite songs. He’s learned how to cook and clean and has even learned how to bake a decent, basic version of a nice loaf of bread. He works as a mechanic at a shop in his small town’s center, working the odd hours that no one else wants, the hours where others want to be home with their families.

He’d considered different options to make the house more home-like, more welcoming. He tried his hand at gardening, only to find that he had the opposite of a green thumb. He painted the walls a warmer color, then painted them again. He was currently considering changing the colors for the third time. He’d burn candles that he thought smelled nice. He’d hung up a few photos of him and his friends, or his family. Nothing really worked.

A typical night for Frankie held one of two patterns:

-Night A: Frankie gets home from the shop at about 7:30, hands covered in grease and smelling of burnt motor oil. He gets in the shower and cleans up, then either ends up at Benny’s arena to cheer him on, or at the bar with both Miller brothers.

-Night B: Frankie gets home at the same time. He showers to clean himself, simply because he hates leaving smudges over his home. He cooks a nice dinner or orders takeout. He eats it on the couch and watches a new Netflix series. He gets sad and feels alone and drinks a beer, then a few more, to drown the sensation. He goes to bed early and calls into the shop to see if any of the morning shift workers want to go home early, because he can come in an hour or two before his shift. He claims it’s for the overtime pay. It’s really to avoid the loneliness.

Frankie likes patterns. He likes routine. It’s soothing. Maybe it’s a remnant of his military days, where not a second would pass without having a title affixed to the very second he was living in. Predictability made the hurt easier.

Tonight was an A Night. Frankie and the Miller brothers sat at the bar of McCreary’s and talked about everything and nothing at once. Will talked about the new girl he was seeing. Benny made lewd comments. Frankie smacked his arm and ordered another round for the other two, then nursed one beer for the entire night.

Winters were the worst for Catfish. He lived in the South, where snow was uncommon, but the dreary February weather stole whatever energy he could muster up and sent it up to join the gray masses that hung in the sky, yet never shed their raindrops. It gets dark early, another thing Frankie hates. It reminds him of the look on Tom’s face when he died. Of the way his bachelor home never made sounds unless he created them. Of the way the craving for one more hit of that devious white powder felt, the way it scrambled his brain until he thought it was the only thing that could take it away.

This A Night, which also happened to be an especially chilly Tuesday, Frankie drove home from the bar at 12:21. The backroads that lead from the suburbs out to the rolling hills are dark, with a rare streetlight or two illuminating a fork in the road that led to a house. The radio droned on, some old Waylon Jennings song that was threatening to send Frankie into a fit of rage and smash a fist into his dashboard. He turned off the radio instead.

Another car drove the opposite way, far in the distance. He could see the lights approaching, then dim slightly. Frankie turned off his brights, instead allowing the road to be illuminated just by his front headlights. He turns up the heat in his truck as a shiver runs down his spine.

Something is running across the road. Frankie can see it now. It’s far from him, but visible in the other car’s light. He slams on his brakes, his body jerking forward.

The other car doesn’t slow.

He slams his horn several times, for whatever is in the road and the other driver.

The thing doesn’t move.

The car doesn’t slow.

The car and the creature- oh fuck, it’s an animal- collide.

Everything that happens next is too quick. The car stops for a moment. Frankie whips the truck into park and turns on his hazards.

The other car stops for a moment. Frankie can just make out a silhouette inside. He gets out of his truck, eyes wide and frantic. He runs to the animal’s side.

The car drives off.

Dust swirls across the road as the car’s tail lights fade into the distance. Leaving just Frankie and his truck and the mangled mess of fur and blood.

“Fucker!” Frankie screams after the car. “You fuckin’ bastard! You didn’t even check, you motherfucker!”

He gets closer and realizes it’s a dog. Its fur is white and brown and so painstakingly red with its own blood, and it whimpers and cries and Frankie realizes the poor fucking thing is still alive. Whether it’s his caretaking or his military instincts that kick in, Frankie isn’t sure, but before he knows it he’s ripping off his jacket and picking up the poor poor baby, oh you little angel, he coos to it, wrapping it in the denim and setting it in his passenger seat.

It’s still whimpering and crying, and Frankie gets in the driver’s seat and grabs his phone. “Nearest 24-hour pet hospital,” he shouts into it, hands shaking. He doesn’t realize either reaction is happening. It gets the words wrong. “No, fuck,” he groans, shifting the truck into drive and whipping a U-turn. He types in the words as he starts to speed back in the direction of the town. He knows he shouldn’t text and drive and normally he doesn’t, but he’s a fucking former military helicopter pilot, he rationalizes with himself, he can handle this. He finds the directions and types them in and tears start dripping from his eyes.

“Hang in there, buddy, hey,” he says and rubs the poor dog’s big ears as they drive. “It’s gonna be 30 minutes. Think you can hang on for me?” he asks it, not expecting a response. He wants to check the dog’s sex but now is certainly not the time, not while he’s doing 85 in a 60 zone and the dog’s blood is seeping into his denim jacket and his passenger seat.

The tears are flowing freely from his eyes now, his heart breaking. He can feel the animal’s shallow breaths as he drives, and he sobs to himself. “Hang on, buddy. It’s gonna be okay, I gotcha. I’m Frankie,” he introduces himself to the dog, “and I’m gonna take real good care of you. You’re gonna be alright and we’re gonna get you fixed up and back to your owners.”

The drive takes 24 minutes when Frankie is flying down the backroads. Fuck if a cop sees him. Fuck blowing a tire. That can be cared for later, when there’s not a dying creature next to him. A steady murmur of ‘it’s okay’ spills from Frankie’s lips. He’s not sure if he’s saying it to the dog or himself. One hand firmly grips the steering wheel and the other never leaves the animal’s body. He comforts the poor creature, murmuring more reassurances the closer they get.

“Please hang in there for me, cariño,” Frankie whimpers, chewing his bleeding lip. “I gotcha. It’s all gonna be alright, bud.”

When he sees the hospital, he drives a little faster. He pulls into the emergency room area and parks in front of the door, turning on his hazards and running inside. There are a few veterinary nurses inside and they greet him, but their looks turn to fear when they see the denim-wrapped animal. “Please, please, Idon’tknowthisisn’tmydogitwasahitandrunandIpickeditup-”

“It’s alright, sir, come with us. Please breathe and tell us again,” a kind woman tells him with a hand on his arm, rushing him and the dog back. Frankie calms down after a moment and explains what happened. “It’s not my dog, I don’t know whose dog this is, you gotta check it for a chip-” he rambles.

“It’s alright, sir,” the nurse tells him kindly and takes the dog from his arms. Frankie clutches after it and a new woman pushes his arms down. “We’re going to take it back and operate on it. Would you please wait here for us? We’ll come give you updates as we get them,” she tells him, gesturing to the waiting room. He nods. “And is this your dog’s first time here?” She asks.

The tears come back, choking his throat as water falls steadily from his eyes. “It’s not even my fuckin’ dog, man,” he whimpers, worrying his lip between his teeth again.

The woman is still kind. “I see. Please, sit, Mr….”

“Morales,” he manages out.

She nods. “Mr. Morales. I understand you’re worried. Please just wait in here for us and we’ll bring you information when we have it.” He nods softly, grabbing a tissue from the front desk. He wipes his eyes and nose. “My truck is parked right outside, it’s in the way, I’ll go park it somewhere else,” he tells her.

“That’s perfectly fine, sir. You can even leave and come back if you’d like.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be right back,” he tells her and walk-jogs outside, getting in his car and bringing it around to park.

Frankie enters the emergency room again and sits in a chair. He worries and worries for hours, texting his group chat with the Millers and Santiago. He gives them a play-by-play, but only Santiago responds. He sits awake for another hour, nervously wringing his ball cap.

The dog must be alive, or at least be able to save, he rationalizes with himself. After a while, the worry fades and he falls asleep. Two hours later, no other patients around to disrupt him, he’s woken by the nurse who took the dog back. “Mr. Morales?” She calls out gently.

He jumps awake. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me.” He sits up from his slumped state, readjusting the cap from where it had been resting over his eyes.

The nurse smiles softly at him and sits in a chair across the waiting room from him. “The dog is safe now. We had to amputate her front left leg, and she had a lot of stitches, but she’s stable and looks like she’ll do well.” He lets out a sigh and her smile becomes more genuine. “You told us she isn’t yours?”

She. The dog is a girl. Of course she is, Frankie smiles a little. The smile falls as he remembers the fact again. “No, no. It was a hit and run. I saw it happen, the other guy took off, it wasn’t me who hit her, I’m-”

“Mr. Morales.”

“Right. No, she’s not mine.”

The nurse nods and writes that down. “Well, we scanned her several times. She has no chip, no identifiers at all. Our options now are to send her to some rescue or kennel of some sort, or you can take her home with you.”

His heart breaks at the image of the sweet dog in the front seat of his car going somewhere without daily love and affection. “She’ll come with me,” he answers before he can rationally think about it.

“Wonderful,” she nods, marking that down as well. “She’s looped up now on some drugs. We’ll let her sleep them off for a bit and then she’s all yours. We do have some procedures we’ll need you to follow, for caring for the wound and such. But after that, it should be all good. You’re free to head out now. We can call you when she wakes up.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” He looks down at his watch and notices how early in the morning it is. “Thanks,” he tells her with a genuine smile, taking off his cap and running his hands through his hair before replacing it.

- From that moment on, Frankie was enamored with the dog. He called in from work when the shop opened bright and early at 6:00 A.M.

“Hey Carol. It’s Morales.”

“You can stop asking if you can come in early, Frank. Just do it,” the woman chuckles on the other line. A loud slurp is audible- it’s the coffee she’s always drinking, the dark sludgy shit that she brews in the break room that Frankie can’t stand but she absolutely adores.

“No, uh. Actually, I was calling in to see if someone else could cover for me today.” He explains the whole story to her, wringing his cap between his hands. “So. I was kind of hoping I could take the day to look for the dog’s owners and care for her.”

There’s a beat of silence over the phone. “Of course, Frankie,” the older woman says kindly. “You got a real big heart, kid. Real big. That’s awful kind.”

He smiles a little. “Just doing what I can. Thanks, Carol.”

“Keep me posted, Catfish.” The woman hangs up.

Frankie’s in more comfortable clothes now. He didn’t sleep at all once he got home, waiting for the hospital’s call. He distracts himself, cooking a breakfast he only picks at, watching his new series halfheartedly on the couch.

The animal hospital calls him again at 7:30. He gets off the couch immediately and into the truck. There’s a bit of blood on the passenger seat, from where the dog wasn’t immediately covered by his jacket. It’s not a worry, though, he thinks to himself. He’ll get some stain remover and maybe a new and nicer jacket.

When he arrives, they usher him back to a check-up room. The dog is lying down but she wags her tail at Frankie, looking up at him with big brown eyes that could rival his own. “Hey, sweet thing,” he calls softly, and the dog stands and walks over to him. It’s pained, that much is clear, but she’s already adjusting to walking with one less limb. She rests her head on Frankie’s lap and he scratches her ears gently.

Some paperwork is filled out and Frankie leads the dog out to his truck with the leash and collar the hospital provided. He lifts her into the passenger seat and she snuggles in. The scent is familiar to her.

Frankie drives her to a pet store nearby, smiling over at her. She looks at ease with him, relaxed and trusting. Of course she is. This is the man who saved her.

He helps her down once they arrive and leads her inside. Her walking is pained, he can tell. “Aw, honey,” he frowns. There are carts right inside; Frankie sees the immediate solution. He scoops her up and sets her in a cart. Her tongue hangs out happily as they go through the store. “We’re gonna get you all kinds of fun stuff, huh?” He asks, scratching her head.

Frankie spares no expense for the dog. As they cross through the store, the cart fills: bags of food and treats, a new leash, and a pink collar decorated with donuts “because you’re such a sweetie, right cutie?”, doggie bags, and food and water dishes. Finally they reach the toy aisle. “Do you wanna pick your own toy?”

He picks her up and sets her down on the ground, unclipping her leash to allow her to explore the toy aisle. She meanders, sniffing toys here and there, even considering one big bone. A few moments later, she comes tottering back to the cart with a toy in her mouth. It’s a big plush hedgehog. Frankie grins. “Aw, that’s a good one! Good choice, cutie.” He kisses her head as he puts her back in the cart.

They check out and drive home, and Frankie allows her to wander inside. “Welcome home. At least for now. I suppose I should put an ad out for you online.”

The dog doesn’t respond, just wanders around the house, sniffing the furniture warily and looking back at Frankie. Asking if he’s coming. He smiles and leads her to the couch, sitting down on it. “I know they say you shouldn’t let dogs on the furniture, but I think you and I can share.” She jumps up and Frankie praises her, giving her a smooch and earning a big lick in return. “Oh, pretty girl, I think you’ll like it here,” he coos to her. She snuggles into his side with a sigh and Frankie sighs too.

Over the next few days, he posts ads for her, but no one responds. He reaches out to people from the area he was driving in, but no one responds. After Day 4 of searching, there’s no response and he allows himself to sigh in relief. “You’re mine now, baby girl,” he coos to the dog, who’s happily panting and grinning.

During the first week, Frankie tries out different names for her. None of them seem to stick. He wonders if she ever even had a name before. Ada, Lucille, Thea, Sunny, Miki, Zulu, Fox, Pancake. None of them work right for her personality.

It’s not until late one night when Frankie’s coke cravings decide upon a name for her.

It’s 2:24 in the morning and Frankie is quaking like a leaf. The dog is cuddled up into his side on the bed. Wherever he goes around the house, she follows. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s drawing blood. Normally when he’s this anxious, when he yearns to call his dealer, he rides it out by balling his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. But his dog seems to notice.

She rests her chin on his hip, wagging her tail against the mattress with a steady thump. She whines quietly. She knows.

Frankie’s at least momentarily distracted. “Hey, beautiful, what’s wrong?” He asks her, scratching his head and rolling over to pet her. He’s still desperate but the focus shifts from the sensation of one last hit to the feeling of her soft fur beneath his fingers. She sighs happily and snuggles into Frankie’s side, and he starts to cry.

No one has ever needed him. Not his plants: they’re succulents. He deals with them once every other week. Not his former fiancée. She didn’t need him, just liked him for his money and his dick late at night. Not his friends. They had other friends to go to. No, this dog needs him, and it makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst.

Sitting up, Frankie turns on the television. He hits a random button to choose a channel, and Princess and the Frog comes on. He chuckles a little. “How about Tiana?” He asks his dog and scratches her ears. She doesn’t react.

It’s near the beginning of the movie. The relaxing music soothes him as the movie starts. The dog lies with her head on his thigh, happily receiving scratchies from her new father. Her head perks up when she hears a shrill noise from the television: Tiana’s best friend in her puffy pink dress.

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. It’s just Charlotte.”

Charlotte. Her ears perk up and she looks at him. “Charlotte?” He asks again, and she looks at him in confusion. “Do you like that one? How about Lottie?” No response. “Or Charlie?”

The dog pounces on him with her one front paw and licks his face. Frankie laughs happily scratching her sides. “Is that your name, pretty girl? Is your name Charlie?”

The answer, it seems, is yes.

It’s funny, Frankie thinks. Charlie is the third letter of the military alphabet, after Alpha and Beta.

Before Delta.

She would be, he realizes. She’s more important to him than his Delta Squadron guys. More important to him than the terrible things he did in the military. She comes before Delta.

And that’s how Charlie got her name.

The guys finally came over to Frankie’s house on Night 9 of owning Charlie.

All of the men are dog lovers, and Charlie takes to Benny quickly. He gives her her favorite kind of scratches: one hand behind the ear, one hand on the tummy. “Yeah, that’s a good tripod,” he teases her as he snuggles her.

“Hey man, cut it out,” Frankie frowns and smacks his arm. “She’s insecure about it! Be nice.”

Santiago laughs. “Hey, you know what, Fish? This isn’t what I meant when I said that you should get a girl, but I’ll take it. Especially when she’s such a sweetie- oh hi, beautiful,” he coos as Charlie hops his way and licks his face.

Frankie shakes his head. “Isn’t she a cutie?” He laughs happily as he watches his dog. “I tried posting ads for her, but no one answered. She’s such a sweetheart, potty trained and everything. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Benny grins. “And all because we asked you to get a beer and you caved and said yes.”

“What the hell do you mean caved, Ben? I get beers with you two fuckers three times a week,” he laughs and shakes his head.

He’s been home alone with her all week, but he hasn’t felt as anxious as he normally does. Her companionship is all he needs, the way she snuggles up tight against him, the way her meal schedule motivates him to eat more. He has a purpose now.

After the initial excitement, Charlie finds her place sitting at her dad’s feet, panting happily and looking around the room. “She fits in well,” Will nods and leans over as he scratches her head. “She’s the newest member of our group, I suppose.”

“She’s much less work than Fish. Maybe we replace him with her,” Santiago teases and Frankie flips him off, chuckling softly.

This was a pattern that came to be known as the newly named C Night in Frankie’s head. These are the nights where they order a pizza or takeout and hang out in Frankie’s living room with Charlie. She’s the entertainer of the group, giving the men each some individual snuggles and wandering around the room. She’s funny, flopping onto her back at a human’s feet so that she can get tummy rubs, spending an absurd amount of time sniffing one specific spot on one man’s jeans. They all adore her.

Life improves for Frankie when he has Charlie. He works shorter hours, spends time brushing her fur. He sleeps at better hours and cares for himself better as a result of caring for her.

He takes her on a jog every morning. At first, he was nervous to do it. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to pass those Special Ops fitness tests. The thing that encourages him most is that Charlie is just the same speed as him. She runs along happily on three legs at the perfect pace for Frankie to match.

Frankie lovingly refers to her as his copilot. She loves riding in the passenger seat of his truck, letting the wind from the open windows run through her fur. She gets excited when she hears the word truck and demands that Frankie snuggle her when they’re on a long drive. She even fell asleep on his lap once, with her face resting in the curve of the steering wheel.

Charlie is Frankie’s baby, and Frankie is her favorite human. The two of them are each other’s soulmates, Frankie thinks. His baby girl, his fluffy baby, his cuddlebug. His girl. His one true love is his dog, his Charlie.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalpanic

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frombeyondtheblackhole · 3 years

Text

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 4

... Skeppies- not in his house... he was in his mansion. Now he is in a mine. That’s not normal, or shouldn't be normal. Who knows what’s normal really. “I reject normal,” He muttered to himself before turning and yelling down the mineshaft “Baaaaaad... Very funny Bad!” He started back down the mine shaft, Bad had to be hiding around a corner up here somewhere. “How did you do it?... Bad?” No response “Bad! Stop hiding already, I know you’re there.”

Wait, what was this. Skeppy stopped and squinted at the mineshaft walls. He’s a literal diamond, Skeppy knows a thing or two about rocks, and this was a rock he had never seen before. The whole wall was made up of large patches of this dark scaly stone. He knocked his knuckles against it, his diamond skin barely scratching it. “What the hell?” He said and was disappointed when Bad didn't interrupt with his typical ‘language.’ This gave him an idea. He cursed louder. Still silence. Skeppy frowned. Maybe Bad really wasn’t there.

“Well, I'm leaving now. Last chance.” Still nothing. There was a sinking feeling in Skeppy’s chest. Bad wasn’t there. If this wasn’t a prank then what was this. Skeppy hurried down the mineshaft wasting no time in finding the ladder and climbing out into the sunlight. He exited the little house at the top only glancing back down the mine shaft once through the glass floor. He came out on the edge of a bay, mountains and trees behind him. There was some dirt scaffolding laid out in a massive square across the water, and a nether portal and some chests could be seen on a tiny island in the distance.

He blinked at it for a minute and then Skeppy did what he always did when he didn’t know what to do. He started yelling.

“Hey yooo! Anyone, there!? Anyone out there?! Hellooooo, I’m talking to you!?” His voice echoed back to him and the water lapped softly against the beach. Skeppy scowled “Well, if you don’t want to be friendly then I’ll just leave. How about that? You hear me? I’m leaving, never returning. Not coming back.” He shouted for the benefit of any hypothetical hiding onlookers as he marched into the forest and started climbing the hill.

The forest quickly thinned and the hill became more of a cliff, and soon he was climbing over rocky boulders and through flat patches of blue-green grass with the occasional grazing sheep. He came over the next hill and stopped short. The mountain dropped off in front of him and in the plain below looked to be some kind of a village. He squinted; a collective of houses built around what looked to be some kind of pole.

He heard a bleating sound behind him and turned just as something white with horns rammed into him, knocking him off the cliff and sending him tumbling down the rocky slope, head over heels, till he slid to a stop at the bottom. He looked up at the blue sky and groaned. If he wasn’t a literal rock, he would have been covered in bruises. As it was he still felt like shit.

“Well look at what the goat dropped in.” Someone laughed. Skeppy tilted his head back to look behind him, everything upside down. A man in a red sweater cast his shadow over him.

He smiled and the corners of his eyes creased, his shadow growing as a pair of wings spread slightly behind him “Hey there, you seem new, welcome to Boatem town.”

“Uuuuu... hey there?”

“You just gonna to lie there, buddy?” He laughed again, reaching out a hand.

Skeppy blinked and shook his head rolling over and taking the offered hand as the man helped him up.

“By the way, I’m Grian, whatcha doing out here?”

“Skeppy, and I, with my excellent sense of direction, was exploring and definitely not lost in any way. I know exactly where I am. And I’m definitely not the victim of some unnamed prankster” He said, starting to walk towards the village and looking around. They were behind a big mossy house.

“Oooh, a prank you say, I’ve got to hear this.” Grian said, following. They walked around the house into the village center, a tower of boats hovered in the middle over an ominous pit.

“Naaah it’s boring really,” Skeppy waved his hand dismissively as he stopped near the edge of the Boatem hole and peered over. It went all the way down to bedrock, like L’manburg. “Huh... interesting...”

“Ah, yes. That is the Boatem hole, we're planning on opening it up to the void at some point.” Grian explained.

“The void? Wait, you can do that? That sounds awesome. Imagine the pranks you could pull with that” Skeppy said his curiosity getting the better of his caution.

“I know right, Scar’s already fallen down there several times,”

“Hey Grian, who’s your friend there?” A man with in a maroon coat and a tinny hat said coming over. When he came closer Skeppy noticed a long scar running diagonally across his nose and face.

“Hey Scar! Speak of the devil,” Grian called out to the aptly named man. “This is Skeppy, he’s absolutely not lost.” Grian quipped, smiling, his voice full of sarcasm.

“You’re lost you say,” Scar said his voice full of all the honey of a car salesman. Skeppy would know, he used the same honeyed tone when trying to talk Bad or Techno into something that probably wasn’t going to end all that well for them but would be absolutely hilarious to watch.

“Not lost,” Skeppy quickly corrected.

“Well even those who aren’t lost are trying to get somewhere. I’m sure you wouldn’t object to us sharing a shortcut or too.”

This man was good. Skeppy didn’t want to look too desperate though. Just add a bit of hesitation sprinkled with some skepticism, that should do it “Well... I suppose a shortcut sounds like a good idea. I am heading for the Badlands, know a faster way to get there?”

Skeppy was met with vacant looks, the car salesman gone. “Actually I have no idea where that is,” Scar shrugged sheepishly “How about you Grian,”

Grian shook his head “Nope... now that I think about it, how did you get on the server anyway,”

“Um... I... I think, I think I just spawned... It’s hard to remember honestly, it’s been so long.” Skeppy frowned at the strange question.

Grian and Scare glanced at each other in shock. New players weren't born, they were spawned, but it was very rare for players to spawn for the first time in a community server. Usually they spawned in a private server and then moved into a community when they found one that worked for them.

“Oh!” Skeppies eyes went wide with realization then horror. If a diamond could blanch, Skeppy was the closest thing to that. “...This isn’t the Dream SMP, is it?”

“Oh dear...” Grian Muttered, “That’s not good.”

---

TFC had been mining. Now he was standing in the middle of a quartz building. That wasn’t normal. His connection to the server had always been a bit glitchy. Maybe this was just another instance of server glitch. He had been frozen in place for days, lagged out, and even defended. Teleportation could just be added to that list. And it wasn’t all that bad, it’s not like it dumped him in the middle of the ocean or lava. As it was, it seemed like he was in someone's starter base.

He walked down the stairs and out the glass front doors. There were pools of water to either side of a walkway and the yard was cluttered with large colorful statues. A muffin, a duck. Goodness the hermits were already at it with the pranks this season.

He walked around the statues and came to the front gate of the grounds. A long wooden path lead off in one direction, and wrapped around behind the mansion in the other. A large red multi story building loomed in the distance. The hermits really had gotten busy.

It was always nice to see what other people were making but he needed to get back to his mine. He took the path following it around the back of the mansion. The path dropped off suddenly. He jumped down and landed with a grunt before taking some bread out of his pocket and munching on it as he rounded the corner of the quartz building's foundation.

He faltered as his eyes fell on a massive blackstone building looming out of the sea, two imposing lava infused towers book ending the walls at either side... And he had thought the Red build had been big for early game. This was definitely too big for early game... even by hermit standards.

He slowly walked closer. Beyond the Quartz house was mostly just an open field until it reached the water. As he got closer he noticed his pickaxe suddenly become unnaturally heavy. It felt strangely like Mining Fatigue. What would a Guardian be doing out here? He returned his pick to his inventory. TFC had seen a lot of things in his time, and this thing felt off.

“Pst..”

TFC jumped and looked around for the source of the noise.

“Over here,”

Now he noticed the footprints in the ground and a floating potion bottle. That sounded like Etho.

“Etho?” TFC queried.

“Yeah, it’s me. Here drink this, I can explain later,” Etho said, shoving the potion into TFC’s work calloused hands.

TFC looked down at the bottle of bubbling silver liquid for a moment before uncorking it and downing the liquid. He trusted the young man with his life.

---

Sam started up from his chair in the dark room where he had been flipping through the prison's security camera feeds, lit only by the glow of the computer screens. He expanded the outside front camera feed to full screen and rewound the feed. A strange old man he had never seen before slowly approached the beach by the prison then just disappeared. Who the hell was that and why did he take an invis potion.

Sam scowled. “Not on my watch,” he muttered, summoning his trident from his inventory and marching for the exit.

#dsmp #dream smp #hermitcraft #dsmp au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft dsmp swap au #skeppy #grian #good times with scar #tfc #etho #awsamdude #warden sam

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silentwonderlocks · 3 years

Text

Enchant Me *Loki x Reader* Chapter 1

I wrote this for fun, so please enjoy. I do plan on making this a short little story. The beginning takes place before Loki evades New York, then progress with Ragnarok, Infinity War and Endgame but Loki lives Warning: Mentions of torture, Thanos being a d*ck.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 2767

It was a peaceful day like no other if it weren’t for the constant screams with loud booming explosions following behind. The bright green grass of the land now scorned with fire and destruction. The clear sky was filled with dark clouds, big metal weapons of mayhem that floated in the air right above the city. You watched as people scattered looking for a means of safety but met with pain.

The loud ringing in your ears made it hard for you to hear your own screams as you searched for your parents. You ran around fighting through anyone that tried to stop you or pull you to safety, but you did not care. You were just a child, scared for her parents rather than for her own life. You ran past dead bodies, craters in the ground searching for anyone that might have looked like your parents but you found no one.

‘Mother! Father! Where are you!” You called out in the midst of the smoke, seeing the invading army rounding up what was left of your people. Without thinking, you ran into the maw of the beast. In the rows of the people together, you called out again and again until one of the soldiers dawned in gold and black armor harshly grabbed your arm. The soldier cursed at you to keep quiet and threw you to the ground making you cry out in pain.

He sneered with pleasure at your pain, lifting up his spear ready to plunge into your body, that is until he saw your eyes change color from Y/c’s to lavender color with cat-like slits. You bellowed out a high pitch scream at the soldier knocking him far back, not wasting another moment. You got up and began to run until a giant man with light purple skin stared down at you. His golden armor told you he had to be the leader of the army.

“Oh little one, what’s the matter?” He asks, looking down at your small frame. You were covered in dirt, bruises and blood that wasn’t yours.

“my...parents..I need to find them..” You spoke with heavy breaths preparing yourself to fight once more. The man chuckled softly but amused. “Such determination...come with me little one.” With those words, he held out his huge hand waiting for your little one in his.

You stared at him hearing the screams of your people suddenly stop.

“We’ll use that potential of yours for a great purpose” He spoke proudly as if he had a grand plan already in the works.

With no parents, no home, and no planet, you did the only thing you could do and that was accept the deal with the devil himself.

That was nearly 18 years ago when your home Aciilnt was invaded by the mad-titan, Thanos. He wiped out nearly the whole population and took you as his adopted daughter. Your home planet was like any other planet in the galaxy, beautiful, full of life and culture with dark history. There were two main people that lived on Aciilnt, the Sirens and the Aciilntians.

The Sirens proudly lived in the lakes and oceans nearby where they learned water magic, shape shifting abilities and their trance like singing. On the other hand, Aciinltians were the complete opposite. Proud and honorable people, who trained their young to either be great warriors or hard working farmers.

The war between the Siren people and the Aciilntians was the most common knowledge on your planet. The two species used to live in peace until the Siren people were deemed dangerous by the Aciint’s government after an unstable Siren attacked local people during a celebration. They feared the mind controlling power of the siren’s singing The Siren people were given two options, have their vocal cords removed leaving them mute or be banished from the planet.

Many chose to have their vocal cords removed to try and have a normal life while the rest of the Sirens chose to be banished rather than give up their dignity. Soon enough, the government began to purge for sirens who still had their powers, fresh born were killed and those who were caught were sentenced to life as a slave for the wealthy.

Your mother happened to be one of the Sirens that chose to stay on Aciinlt and fell in love with your father, a simple but honest man. Together they had you, the perfect siren and Aciintian hybrid. Your parents were terrified because they knew if the government found out, then you would be killed. So your mother birthed you in secret and once you were old enough to learn how to do simple things at a young age. She taught you to change your eyes so you would blend in with everyone. You almost got away with it until that soldier had forced you to expose yourself and now here you were on Thanos’s ship as one of his many adopted children.

Since you were brought upon the ship, you were taught to fight and learn how to use your powers to serve your stepfather along with your adopted siblings.You had mastered your singing to put foes in a trance then make them do your bidding, You were now able to change your small appearance to help blend in for certain mission, and your water magic was terrifying yet powerful.

Out of all the siblings, Gamora and Nebula were the two that you got along with. Gamora had already been on the ship for a few years when you first met her, she was cold and distant with you at first. She wasn’t used to having someone near her age, and to top it off someone with powers as yours. She didn’t want to be near you. The only time she would be near you was in your room that you shared, when you ate together, and when you fought with her when your father wanted to test your skills.

You both were equally skilled so it was mostly a tie between you two. After a year of being together on the ship, Gamora had gotten into a fight with Thanos and came to the room in a fit breaking things, ranting about how much she hated her life and she hated Thanos. Instead of turning her away like she had done to you, you had decided to show her some sympathy. You told her about your hatred, you told her about the day you lost your life to the mad- titan and you also told her that she made you feel like you weren’t alone even if she didn’t like her. You were happy to have someone to suffer with. Gamora soon after that warmed up to you, then Nebula came along.

Nebula was a different story, she hated all of her siblings and wasn’t trying to make bonds with anyone. She was devoted to her father so much, and was willing to do anything to make him proud. So when it came to you and Gamora, she despised you both and wanted to prove she was the superior daughter. Her hatred grew deeper when she would be challenged against the two of you and always lose, resulting in Thanos adding upgrades to help her improve. By the time the three of you were in your teen years, Nebula had almost lost most of her right side becoming half cyborg.

You honestly hated hearing her screams of torture when Thanos worked on her so you would ask your father for permission if you could be with her to try and give her comfort and support. He denied every time saying that it was Nebula’s punishment for being weak so she needed to accept her pain. So one day Nebula finally won a battle against you because you had let her win and you took your punishment instead which was a scolding from your father.

It took a lot more time for Nebula to warm up to you and when she did, you were happy to have two sisters. One you could talk to and one you could spar with. The three of you were unstoppable, the assassin daughters of the mad titan warlord Thanos.

Now here you were standing in your room, staring out into the void of space relieving your memories of your old life. You hated Thanos, you hated your life, you hated what you had become and you wanted to run but that would take time to plan and units. So you decided to wait for the perfect moment to betray your father and escape away.

You glanced at your reflection, your lavender eyes piercing back at you, your hair was neatly in a crown braid, the black strapless corset with black tight pants and a purple jacket that fitted around your body felt weird. Your father told you that today was a special day for you to wear something nice. He was supposed to have a meeting with someone to help him find something he called The Infinity Stones. You wondered about this stranger and couldn’t help but scoff to yourself, the poor guy didn’t know what mess he or she would be getting into.

“Sister, are you ready?” Gamora asks, standing in the doorway with her long ombre hair done up neatly like yours. Her outfit is similar to yours but with a red corset and a black jacket instead.

You sigh, turning yourself away from the window to stare back at Gamora.

“Of course sister, come we mustn’t keep father waiting” You responded with ice in your tone as you said the word father. Gamora knew and shared your hatred as well so she just nodded and began to walk down the hallway to the meeting room. You followed her out watching her walk in front of you. As you passed by several training and torture rooms, you knew that you would not miss this place. Your sisters, you would dearly miss but then again they were not your real siblings. Putting your thoughts away, you caught up to Gamora walking by her side.

“Nebula is there with father?” You ask first, keeping your eyes ahead. “Ready and waiting, you know she’s gonna scold us later for not being good daughters” Gamora responded, stopping in front of a large door with alien language encrypted on to it. You nodded to your sister that you were ready and the door opened letting a bright blue light emerge. Inside the room was a large grey chair in the center of the floor that was twice the size of you and your siblings. Your father proudly sat upon it dressed in his infamous golden amour with your sister, Nebula by his left side waiting. A golden specter in his hand with a bright blue stone in between the two pongs. She sneered at the two of you for making your father wait but before making sure to keep herself in check.

“Ah..my daughters, finally you grace us with your presence” Thanos began as he held out his hands for you and your sister. Gamora stepped first, letting Thanos lead her to his right side then you stepped up letting your father lead you next to Nebula. Now facing the direction that your father was, you now took full notice of the man in front of you.

The man was tall, he had to be about 6 ft and over, his black, green and gold leather clothing told you that he was royalty. He was a handsome man with sharp cheekbones, ebony shoulder length hair that was slicked back. His eyes were a deep emerald green that seemed to pierce through your soul.

His demeanor was something you’ve never seen or felt before. It felt terrifying but sad? It confused you to your core of why this man was intriguing you so. You felt his eyes on you as well, taking in your form. He studied you as you did him, since you knew this would not be the last time you saw him. “Now. Speak of your ambition.” Thanos began making the man’s eyes switch to him.

“I am Loki of Asgard, or better known as the God of Mischief. I am burdened with a glorious purpose to achieve my rightful place as king! I have come in need of an army” His voice..was alluring and confident. The accent in his voice was deep and a bit husky. The way he spoke, told you that he was determined to get what he desired.

Thanos smiled and began to hum as he straightened himself in his chair.

“Glorious purpose? We all have a purpose...a destiny to fulfill. It all arrives the same, the question is what will you do for me? You offer me nothing for my services.”

“I offer you Earth and all of it’s worms that they call their people. I offer you their blood, their screams.” The man called Loki responded with a slight tone of desperation.

Your father stayed silent for a moment. “Perhaps we can come to an alliance.On Earth, there is this powerful object called the Tesseract. Inside of it, is one of the essentials to my great plan. I will give you an army, Earth will be yours to rule. I only ask for the Tesseract in return, understand?”

Loki stood up straight, eyes still fixed on your father. “ I will not disappoint you”

Once you heard Loki say that, you felt your heart drop since you knew what your father did with his alliances. Thanos smirked with malicious intent.

“We’ll see”

You could do nothing but watch as your father took the specter and plunged it into Loki’s chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you hear his screams ring out, your father wanted to show Loki that he was not one to be disappointed or betrayed. You couldn’t bear to think of what he was making Loki see or feel but you swore that you saw his eyes water. What made it worse was that his eyes were no longer on your father but on you. They held such pain and terror that you almost thought he was begging for help. You gave him a sympathetic look before looking away. You couldn’t have your father seeing you be weak, Loki’s screams continued until your father had enough and made him pass out from the mind torture.

“Y/n, take our guest to his room. I want to make sure he’s fully prepared for his mission.” Your father stood handing you the tall scepter. “ Give him this for his mission. Don’t be afraid to make him grovel to our will.”

Gripping the specter tightly in your hand. You stared up at your father with a harsh glare. “Of course Father.” With your words, Loki was picked up by Gamora and carried him to his chamber for now. You followed her admiring his features.

His face was bruised and scraped, his eyes were puffy with some red around them.

‘He’s been in more pain than today..” You thought to yourself as the door opened welcoming you.

Gamora flops him on the bed and proceeds to give you a look beginning to walk out but then she stops. “Y/n you can’t save everyone from father” She says, turning her head to look at you slightly.

“I'm not trying to save anyone, I just can’t stand the pain ” You stated factually as you watched Loki fidget and turn in his sleep. Gamora nodded once before leaving you alone with the god of mischief. Deciding to give the poor man some relief, you crouched beside him and began to softly sing a lullaby to help ease his pain.

You lightly grasped his arm to sing soft melodies in his ear. All you had to do was sing a few notes and anyone would be under your spell. Once you saw his face soften up and relax slightly, you pulled away to stand back up.

“Sleep...and may you never have another bad dream..” A soft smile rose to your face seeing Loki relax completely and just look peaceful before he would endure your father’s wraith. Leaving the scepter by his side, you exited the room and proceeded to the next mission.

#loki (marvel)#loki x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #thor ragnarok #infinity war #avengers endgame #the avengers #sad loki #Y/n #loki 2012 #loki 2021 #silentwonderlocks #fanfic #the avengers endgame #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader

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nkogneatho · 3 years

Note

Hello! I hope you are fine and healthy. I hope you will see this but Can I request 2,9,32( if It's alright 26 too)from the promp list with Nanami from Jujutsu Kaisen?

NANAMI KENTO x fem!reader. (promt list is here)

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Consumption of Alcohol.

A/n: Hello. I hope you're fine too. I did my best with this. I hope you like it🤧❤

2. First kiss.

It was just a normal evening. You both planned a date at a restaurant somewhere really far away from Gojou cause that airhead will definitely spread rumors.

Nanami arrived a little late as he has to work overtime. Tiredness was clearly visible in his eyes. Slight dark circles marking his eye bags but the jawline still sharp and handsome as ever. It's been a month since you guys have been going out. It was nothing special but just casual dates to talk your day out.

After sharing a couple of talks and drinks, you guys left the restaurant.

Sky Dark, just a crescent moon visible as you both walked on the street.

Nanami didn't knew your alcohol tolerance was this bad that you weren't even walking straight. He held your waist as you were about to fall and you not being in your senses started gazing deep in his eyes and face, appreciating his features and soon your pupil moved to stare his lips. You just felt like grabbing it with yours and so you did. His eyes widened at the unexpected gesture.

Nanami smiled at how cute you are when you're drunk amd cupped your face to deepen the kiss.

9. "Only if you knew how much you meant to me"

It's been almost a year since you guys broke up. Nothing really cruel, it's just that Nanami started doing some risky work and barely spent time with you. Dealing with curses is something he really despises plus he didn't wanted you to get hurt but how were you supposed to know all of that. You didn't even know that curses exists. You still respected his choice and walked away from his life.

26. Pegging them

Nanami had a really bad day. A bad day that made him look back and question his choices. He still regrets letting you go like that. "If she was here right now, she would've probably scold me for overworking myself.", he left a small chuckle but his eyes said something else. "Only if you knew how much you meant to me y/n"

Never in your life you thought you'd be seeing this sight in front of you. Nanami, the tough guy who barely gave a squat about stuffs was now oh so vulnerable in your touch.

"Can I move love?", you questioned the green blonde.

"Y--yes"

"Does it hurt?", you started off with a normal pace letting him adjust

"N-no, it feels g-good"

"Well that's nice to hear, enjoy yourself.", you smiled increasing the pace. The sheets on the bed rubbing his cock making it twitch. You knew entering him from the back was a good idea when you saw the sheets getting moist from his leaking cum.

Nanami knew that he is high maintenance, not someone to normally fall in love with but you did anyways. You couldn't help it. People might think he is a loner, boring man but your eyes smiled at the way he chuckled at acomedy scene when you guys Netflix and chill, the satisfaction on his face when his coffee was just the right taste he wanted. You saw him for all these small things.

32. "Y/n L/n, will you do the honor to be mine?"

Nanami really appreciated the way you noticed every small thing about him what others failed to do.

You were arranging his suits neatly in the closet, color coding them. He was staring at you standing near the bedroom door leaning his arms on the doorwall. At that moment it hit him how he need you in his life because no one would ever be here at your place as no one had the audacity to cling on him until he realised that he was actually a good person. He didn't care if he didn't have ring at the moment, all he cared was he had you and he needed to tell you how much you mean to him. Without wasting anytime he soon grabbed your hands staring at them while you were clueless of what happened.

"I know I am a little hard to handle", he voiced deep.

"Baby, No you're not. Is it about that agai-"

"Shhh, hear me out", he cut you off as he placed his index finger on your lips.

"Y/n, I don't see myself as someone who would ever fall in love. But you made me believe that I can. Growing up, getting a job, earning a normal income, coming home to no one and living a plain life is all I thought it was gonna be like. Until----you stepped in.", your eyes brightened at those sweet words. But what you felt like was just a normal romantic conversation was soon going to be the most memorable moment of your life. "Now when I come home, I do have someone special and I always look forward to stepping in through that door just to see your welcoming smile. You are just perfect. If you give me a chance, I would spend my remaining life doing everything just to see that smile of yours again and again. I sadly don't have a ring right now", you were still clueless even when he said those words. "But I wanted to say whatever I feel as soon as possible. So......Y/n L/n, will you do the honor of being mine for the rest of our lives?"

Your jaw dropped, eyes filled with tears at this moment. This is the longest Nanami has ever spoke. You immediately jumped hugging him. "Yes yes yes yes", you chanted not being able to find words other than that.

Bonus: When Gojou found out about you being engaged, he arranged a bachelor and bachelorette party for you guys and contacted the most expensive and popular strippers. (I am sorry. I HAD to write this😭).

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #gojou x reader

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

Subject 10-Mulan Link

You have now gained the accesses file page of the chain links case number #19835 Corrupted heroes for Subject #10

Current state: Safe

legal name: Link,last name unknown

Nicknamed: Mulan

Biological age: unknown

Chronical age: unknown

Hieght: Unknown

Weight: unknown

Visiting accesse time for subject Zero: Must be planned ahead of schedule time in order to have private meetings and clerance from head chief researcher Queen zelda and level 5 personal clerance

Physical description: Subject 10 is a short haired Hylian woman who wears a green tunic and knight gear armor.They have a well built muscular body and a ferret that rests around thier neck as well as scars and cuts around thier body.The most noticeable scare they have are three little cuts under thier chin and a long vertical cut across thier right cheek.

Information: Subject 10 first arrived at the castle carrying subject zero and subject 11 bloodied and badly injured with a broken arm and serveral fractured bones as well as stab/slash wounds.They came in as duplicates of four identical versions of subject 10 dressed variouse colors such as brown,cyan,yellow and green.Only one of the 4 sets had arrived at the castle with subject Zero and Subject 11 while the others fought off to keep back the “chain” while back up knights and town gaurds were deployed to apreheand them.Subject 10 is not placed under any containment but is required to come to the SCRPP research site to have check ups and testing as well as recorded interviews with research personales.Subject 10 refuses to have to go anywhere without her ferret campaion so all interviews and meetings are held with subject 10′s ferret either on the site with them or curled around subject 10′s neck.Subject 10 is in current possesion of the master sword and four sword as well as veriouse other items from the group(but not all for research purposes and other classified resons).They are to be informed of any drastic procedures that are to be done to any of the known subjects and participats of case file #19835.Subject 10 is one of the only subjects out of all the links who dose not show a red essence seeping out or show any signs of agression or possesive behvaiors for subject Zero. Research is still going underway to find out a way as to why it is and if blood or dna samples can be exracted from subject 10 in order to find a cure.

[interview recoding of subject 10 #1]

Dr.Jean: Now beining case file number #1983 dash 1 subject 10 interview of the anomalie the Curropted Heros. Time started at 10:89. Interview researcher personale Dr.Jean, tag number 893 of site 13 room A14.

Dr.Jean: Ok,lets start.Rember at anytime you start to feel uncomfortable we can stop the interview,alright?

Link: ok..

Dr.Jean: ok,lets start off with something simple.Subject 10 can you please state your name?

Link: Mulan.

Dr.Jean: I am sorry,let me clarify I meant your real name.

Link: oh,right..its uh,its Link.

Dr.Jean: Good,can you state your last name as well?

Link: I dont have one.

Dr.Jean: Are you sure? No documnets? Family? Anyway to file for one?

Link: Yes,I am sure.I dont have one.Thats it.

Dr.Jean: Right,right, *ahem* can you tell us how long you’ve know the links?

Link: We had all know each other for about a year and a half, and today would have been our second year together if…you know,had things still been normal with everyone.

Dr.Jean: how did you meet these people to begin with?

Link: I was out exploring the outskits of the forests behind my house one day and saw a bright light,so i got curiouse and followed it.I found a portal and went through it.I was transported to the guredo desert and wondered a around for a bit before I found the chain.it turns out the portal took me to a diffrent time period and there was some time,dimentional stuff going on and we were all gathered to fix it or something.

Dr.Jean: How did you meet subject Zero?

Link: Subject Zero? oh,do you mean [redacted]?

Dr.Jean: Link,please reframe from saying subject Zero’s real name during this interview.

Link: Fine.

Dr.Jean:thank you,pleas contiue.

Link: We first met them a few months after lucky came when [ audio connection has been temperarly lost]

Dr.Jean: Intresting and how did you feel about Subject zero?

Link: I didn’t think much of them, I thought that they were ok.they were kind of nice and everyone liked them,so I did too.But there was something just…off about them.

Dr.Jean:Off like what? Did you distrust them?

Link: no,no,no not distrsut or anything like that…just that something was not right…there was just something…..something WRONG with them,I dont know how to describe it, they were just not normal in a very bad way.But I ignored it and didn’t think much on it. I think they were just…diffrent.

Dr.Jean: Why did you help them escape?

Link: Because it was the right thing to do.I wanted to get them out of a situation where they were held captive and also keep the others from killing each other on who got to keep them.Its not that complicated. besides it my fault for not stopping this sooner.

Dr.Jean: How?

Link: What?

Dr.Jean: How do you think it was your fault?

LInk:[sighs] its…it was all right there I didn’t want to see it,I knew everyone was starting to act a little wierd but I didn’t want to take it that seriously,I didn’t want to think badly about my fami-friends..my friends…Until one day when they had gone completly overboard and uh…..I had found some of them beating down on a man after they were flirting with..with subject Zero…and to say that they looked like they were thugs when they were doing it would be too much of a understatement…They looked like they were having a good time doing it too.I swear when I saw them that day at the allyway they were not the heros I knew and travled with and as faw as i was concerned they were strangers-no,not even that,they were monsters…And the look on thier faces when I yelled out to them and they turned to me…it was like they were going to kill me right there and then……[Inhales heavily before exhailing shakingly] they weren’t normal….thier eyes….I don’t think I can really ever forget those empty vacant looks..it was like someone els was there…Since then things had started to get worse.

[suject 10 begins to pet her ferret at this time seeming to find comfort in it from thier stress]

Dr.Jean: Who were the ones that were there at the time of the incident?

Link: it was…I think Twilight,Four,Sky and Wild were all there.

Dr.Jean: Even Sky?

LInk: Yeah, him too.I rembered the second I started yelling and taring a new in asshole for them he just came up from behind the group and started to try to “calm me down” and explain how the shit I just saw wasn’t what it seemed like and yadda yadda yadda,typical gaslighting you know? But I wasn’t going to fall for some shit like that so I got the man out of there and to a medic, payed for all his expenses and reported them to Time and Warriors. Honestly I was so pissed off and in shock about it all that I had finally started notice and realize more and more things that were wrong about the group that I use to just keep ignoring.I still didn’t try to do anything serious about it though until the end of our journey.

Dr.Jean:What did you mean by noticeing things?

Link: …….just things….and looking back at it now should have been obviouse red flags but I never pressed for them.I think the first time I did it was with Wsrriors but he kept brushing me off saying things like “everyone is just protective of [redacted]” or “that you are looking way too into this” and when he did listen to me he would tell me that he’d keep a closer eye on the group.I suppose you can take a guess that, he did not, in fact, keep up the promis that he made.

Dr.Jean: did at any point in your adventures feel,were attempted to or successfully attacked or harmed by any members of this group during you adventures before the escape?

Link:No-well I mean yes but…[ exasperated sigh]…yeah….yeah there were a few…ok maybe a lot…But I guess the one that really stuck with me was when,uh,when Time held me up against a wall and tryed to cut my throat during a heated argument about…..them.

[Subject 10 reaches over to rub on a faint cut across thier neck]

[the ferret circles closer to her neck nuzzling it head into hers in an attempt to comfort Link]

Link: Aww,its ok little guy,I am fine right now.Don’t worry fluffy.

Dr.Jean: i am sorry if its too much but what was the argument about?

Link:…….

[subject 10 stays silent for a few minutes before speaking again]

Link: It was about if we should kill subject zero.

Dr.Jean: Then do you think we should kill subject zero?

[subject 10 stops petting fluffy and stares at the doctore without giving an answer for several more minutes]

Link:[a shallow exhale leaves thier mouth] …….I……..I….

[the sounds of sirens and alarms going off]

Annocemnet :There is a containment breach in the D -12 containment building floor,please all personels and staff go to the evacuation exits and safety rooms while special elit force knights handle the situation.Subject 4 case 19835- 1,2,3 and 4 cololrs have all escaped.If you see him or any of the colors they are to be neutralized and brought back to thier containment cells.All other staff do not ingage unless -

Dr.Jean: oh Hylia,looks like we’ll have to cut this short and we have to hurry and-wait where are you going! The safety room is this way! Link!

Link: [distant and muffled]I know,I just need to go out and kick a few stobbern little butts back in thier cells first-!

Dr.Jean: Link the elit knights can handle it you don’t have to-Link!! Link! Sir Link! Lin-!!

[audio ends here]

I am doing wind next

This is long, so I'll react as I read.

oh SHOOT THEY RAN!!!

MULAN USES THE FOUR SWORD!!

[REDACTED]?!?!!?

LUCKY!!!

AUDIO CONECTION TEMPORTARILY LOST!?!?!?!?!?

THEY GONNA KILL A GUY-KIL MULAN!!? SKY IS GASLIGHTING!?!?

TIME CUT THEM?!?!?

MULAN GONNA KILL SUBJECT ZERO!?!?!?

THEY ESCAPE!?!?!? THE COLORS ESCAPE!!!!

MULAN GOES TO FIGHT?!?!?

MY GIRL!!!!

OH MY GOD

#pinky replies #SCP LU #PINKY IS SCREAMING #pinky is screaming #i don't know which one I use anymore #violence #yall gotta let me know with tags #i don't think this was so bad in terms of being graphic....#but let me know because i can't think...#yandere #yandere linked universe #horror

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terrm9 · 3 years

Text

The Ray Women

Ethan and Chiara visit her family in San Francisco for the first time.

Set in the renovations period between Book 2 and Book 3.

This is the fourth part of the mini series The Couple & the Others. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 can be found here.

Words count: 4 200

Author’s note: The final part is here! I do not think I have much to say, other than THANK YOU to Ruby @starrystarrytrouble for this beautiful moodboard and for reading the last part back then!

Warnings: mention of death (it’s Chiara’s background, there is no way I could have avoided that), other than that fluff

Ethan let out a long exhale as soon as they stepped out of the airport hall and he felt the first rays of San Francisco sun on his skin.

There were several reasons why he never considered to leave Boston and its reasonable climate was most definitely big part of those reasons. Boston was... normal. Bearable. San Francisco was hot and the wind was barely there and the sun was too bright and-

He turned his head to look at Chiara and decided to snap his mouth shut before he could mutter something about the hell being colder.

Chiara, with the wide smile on her face and eyes closed, the whole face turned up to absorb as many of those annoying rays as possible, looked exactly as she should at the moment. Like she was finally home.

It was no secret that Chiara loved warm weather and complained about the one in Boston for the good part of the year („How does your ass not freeze in this damn city?“) and until this moment, Ethan didn’t really think about it. But now, the situation was reversed and only now he realized that he would most likely never agree to live in San Francisco, because he wouldn’t bear the heat.

And Chiara was undoubtedly dedicated to stay with him in Boston, even though she could hardly bear the cold.

„Why are you staring at me?“ she opened her eyes suddenly and tilted her head slightly to get a better look at Ethan.

Deciding not to get into discussion about weather and how it spoke volumes about the difference between them – especially not now, when Diana was about to come to pick them up any minute – Ethan answered with a statement that was not at all untrue.

„Because you are beautiful.“

Chiara let out an amused laugh at that and squeezed the hand she was holding, but it didn’t escape Ethan’s notice that her cheeks flushed and not from the shining sun.

The moment of silence and unspoken confessions between them was quickly interrupted by a delighted shriek coming from behind them and arms – bare arms that didn’t look bare because of the tattoo sleeves decorating them, Ethan noticed - wrapped around Chiara’s shoulders just a moment after.

„Alicia!“ Chiara screamed when she turned around and hugged her sister tightly, the moment lasting long enough for Ethan to absorb the only Ray he hasn’t yet had a chance to meet.

Chiara talked about her younger sister a lot ever since they agreed to visit San Francisco – or rather, she warned him about Alicia.

„She is wild.“

„Should that surprise me?“ Ethan didn’t even bother to look up from his medical journal. „She is your sister.“

„Oh no, you don’t get it. She is really wild. Alicia is the copy of my mother, the exact younger version of her. And she is... she is out of this world. The laws of nature do not apply to her. She is loud and gestures too much and speaks her mind too freely and she doesn’t walk, she bounces and she... she is wild, Ethan.“

And it went like this for weeks. Even the flight from Boston was filled with Chiara’s occasional „please do not be surprised“ and „it is who she is, it is nothing personal“.

Ethan met Diana once before, although the circumstances were so tense they both tried to forget it. Chiara was fighting for her life and the whole hospital was fighting to find a cure in time – and Diana flew to Boston, her voice shaking and eyes wide and she pleaded, begged Ethan to save her daughter because she wouldn’t survive losing another child.

Neither of them wanted the first meeting to be that way, but life had its own way in creating surprises and so Ethan knew that Chiara inherited her mother’s hair but not her eyes‘ color, he knew what her voice sounded like and that she loved her children more than life.

All that Diana remembered about Ethan from those three days she spent in Boston back in November was that his voice was soothing and calm while his eyes were terrified and just as pleading as her words and that he managed to save her little girl.

Chiara didn’t lie when she said that Alicia was a copy of Diana – her hair, just as Chiara’s – were the color of a summer sky seven minutes before the sun set completely, but unlike her mother’s or sister’s, hers were not falling on her shoulders in soft waves. Her hair were much longer, falling almost to her waist in dozens of dreadlocks. Several piercings on her face – her lower lip, her eyebrow and her nose – attracted attention and Ethan had to fight his sudden urge to ask her if the upper part of her body is hot and her feet are cold when he noticed her outfit, made of a tank top and high-waisted shorts combined with black leather boots.

She is barely 20, he kept telling himself, an obvious explanation of the difference in their points of view. And she is wild, as Chiara reminded him so many times.

„So you must be the famous Dr. Ramsey, huh?“ Alicia turned to Ethan so fast he almost didn’t manage to look away from her. „Nice to finally meet you... in person.“

She winked at Chiara at that, earning herself an annoyed glare from Chiara, something Ethan wasn’t used to seeing often.

„Ethan is just fine,“ Ethan nodded, shaking Alicia’s hand – as impossible as it felt, even smaller than Chiara’s. „It is very nice to meet you too, Alicia.“

Alicia didn’t even try to be subtle as she took Ethan in and he tried his best to hold her gaze, to not give her any reason to doubt him as the right person for Chiara.

Finally, Alicia sighed dramatically, the sound that startled Ethan visibly, as he had not a single clue of what that sigh was supposed to mean – did he disappoint her already?

„Mom was supposed to pick you up but she had some work to finish in the atelier, so she sent me.“

She turned on her heel at that and without sparing as much as another glance, led the couple to her car.

And saying that Ethan was nervous would be an enormous understatement.

*** *** ***

Whether Alicia set up some kind of test on Ethan and he passed or she was just trying to make him feel uncomfortable – knowing rather well that nobody else would – and it stopped being fun, Ethan didn’t know. He knew, however, that there was no trace of tension or hostility in Alicia’s behavior from the moment they stepped into the house.

By the time Diana came home and joined them, Ethan has seen the whole spectrum of Chiara’s annoyed glares, along with her embarassing teen-years photos and love letters she wrote to Milo Ventimiglia when she was eleven, believing that he would read them one day.

„She‘s always had a thing for older men,“ Alicia winked at Ethan at some point and part of him wanted to feel embarassed, but it took one look into Chiara’s diary filled with Keanu + Chiara or Chiara Reeves notes and yes, Alicia was right.

Chiara has always had a thing for older men. (And he should be glad.)

Sitting in a cosy living room, Ethan didn’t feel uncomfortable, not in the slightest. He felt welcomed and overly happy that he finally had something to tease Chiara with in return.

The room was bright and filled with so many photos, Ethan felt like in an art gallery for a moment. There were pictures on the ledge of a fireplace, on the walls and on every shelf. Pictures of babies and toddlers and kids, all with the same red hair and wide smiles; wedding pictures of Chiara’s parents; pictures of a man Ethan never got to know but recognized in an instant, the greenness in his eyes so well imprinted to Ethan’s mind, as Dorian’s oldest daughter was the only child to inherit the colour.

Pictures of a happy family, of a family Ethan so long wished to have and that was took away from him at the age of eleven. With an ache squeezing his heart, he realized that Alicia was barely thirteen when the happiness of their family was taken away from her. Just a child, just as he was all those years ago.

„Dorian would love to talk to you, if he was here,“ Diana smiled at Ethan, breaking his thoughts.

„He would?“

„I am sure,“ she nodded, the smile not – never – leaving her face. „He always missed a rational brain in this house – I am an artist with my body and my soul, my head always somewhere far away, ignoring the basic laws of this world. He would be so delighted to talk about science and medicine with you and I am sure by the end of your stay, he would just nod and nod and say „A good man, this one“, without even trying to give you the typical talk about his precious daughter deserving only the best,“ she laughed at that and Ethan tried to laugh too, but the lump in his throat made the task impossibly hard.

It has been seven years in which the Ray women had to learn to live their lives without Dorian and Liam, but the way they talked about them today, with so much love and gratitude, it made Ethan feel as if they never truly left the house.

„Yes, and I would just ask him something like Dad, aren’t you gonna fight for me?, and he would just laugh and tell me that he didn’t buy Dr. Ramsey’s book all those years ago just to scare him off now,“ Chiara chuckled.

After exchanging some more stories of Chiara’s childhood, Diana decided to start cooking a dinner and just as she was leaving the room, she said: „You kids stay here and catch up some more,“ which was an innocent statement, truly, but it left Ethan feeling rather awkward – was he supposed to leave with her or did she count him as a kid too? Considering the fact that his age was closer to Diana’s than Alicia’s, he could hardly be sure about anything.

In the end, he stayed with the sisters that seemed like they were not physically capable of not talking, the only moment of silence falling over the room when Alicia left to make them all a coffee.

But it didn’t last long and for a moment Ethan wondered if Chiara has talked that much naturally and only learned to control herself around him.

Was he changing her personality?

„I met Marc the other day,“ Alicia spoke again while handing Chiara her coffee, her tone light.

Ethan felt his jaw tense at the mention of Chiara’s ex boyfriend name and despite himself, he held his breath while waiting to see Chiara’s reaction.

„You did?“ Chiara asked with her eyebrow raised, sipping the hot beverage slowly. „How is he?“

„Handsome as always,“ Alicia smirked, sighing dramatically again. At this point, it didn’t even startle Ethan anymore. „He still looks like Harry Styles with those long hair.“

Ethan has never heard the name Harry Styles before but seeing Chiara’s amused grin and the way she just playfully bumped Alicia’s shoulder with hers – and that was the only reaction she gave away at Alicia’s description of her handsome ex – Ethan slowly, subtly took his phone out of his pocket and seeing that the Ray sisters paid him no attention, he decided to do his research on who the famous Marc resembled.

Harry Styles was... young. And rather good looking. With the dark hair and bright eyes, it would be easy to say that Chiara had a type (if Marc really look like that), but that was not enough to calm down that weirdly uncomfortable feeling that tried to raise up his throat.

Marc was as old as Chiara and it was no secret that even all those years after the break-up, the two were rather friendly. And he looked like this Harry Styles guy.

As much as Ethan hated to admit it, there was a name for that feeling, the name known to him but no, he was not-

He shouldn’t feel jealous of Chiara’s ex.

But Marc was young and handsome and did Chiara feel the need to talk less around him, less than she wanted? Did Chiara feel that need with Ethan?

This was stupid, Ethan knew. Chiara chose him and that should have been enough.

But Marc probably didn’t hate San Franciso’s weather as much as Ethan did.

Ethan became so lost in his own stupid, not at all rational thoughts, that he didn’t notice how Chiara left the room to help Diana in the kitchen. He only noticed Alicia’s intense gaze on him, amused smirk on her lips and maybe there was a trait that both Ray sisters carried proudly, maybe Alicia’s ability to observe was just as great as Chiara’s and maybe – probably – she knew exactly what was on Ethan’s mind at that moment.

*** *** ***

„So what do you say?“ Chiara couldn’t help but ask the moment she closed the door.

It was not that she wanted her mother to tease or test Ethan, but was her family really giving up on her so easily? Were they all just ready to give Ethan their blessings and wishes of luck with Chiara, without as much as making sure his intentions are pure?

It was not fair towards him, she knew. Alan has been nothing but kind and exceptionally nice to her, always. And Bryce did make Ethan sweat at the stupid brunch all those weeks ago.

Still, she just wanted to see him flush and stutter. Just once. Just for fun.

"He is as handsome as the pictures you have been sending," Diana grinned at her oldest child over her shoulder. "Maybe even more in person."

"You know that is not what I am asking," Chiara whispered, not wanting Ethan to hear the conversation. It was not that she didn't agree with her mother, but anyone could appraise Ethan's good looks. And Diana was not anyone - her opinion mattered to Chiara more than she'd like to admit.

"I know Ethan is a great man for you, darling. He makes you smile so much I can see these little wrinkles around your eyes," Diana gestured at the corner of Chiara's right eye, too close for Chiara's liking considering she was holding a knife in her hand. "For so long I have only seen dark circles around them. Anyone who can make you this happy is more than welcome in our family."

Chiara exhaled softly and watched her mom cut the vegetables, mulling over her next words in her head.

Before she could decide on what to say next, however, Diana smirked and spoke again.

"Not that I was worried. I spoke to Bryce few weeks ago. About you and Ethan. And he made it clear that your relationship is one he approves of."

„You did what?“

It shouldn’t surprise her, she knew. Bryce and Diana called each other so often at this point, Chiara was pretty sure Bryce asked Diana for an advice before his own date last time he went on one.

„Yes, he called me after that lunch you all have had back in December? Or was it January? I am not sure, but it was the first time Ethan joined you and your friends.“

That damn brunch.

„He called you to let you know that he roasted Ethan already and so that you do not need to do that?“ Chiara chuckled, putting her question as a joke.

„Exactly!“ Diana exclaimed happily and unlike her child, she was not joking.

„And you just... believe him?“

Diana shrugged, turning to Chiara wholly now, her smile only partly amused. Mostly soft and affectionate.

„You know I love Bryce as my own kid. I know you love him as your own brother. Has Bryce ever hurt you?“

Chiara shook her head without any hestitation because no, no matter how many people did hurt her – Ethan included – Bryce never did. Never.

„He wants you to be happy and he would never let you date anyone who wouldn’t make you so. And I wouldn’t either. Ethan makes you happier than I have ever seen you, Chiara, and that is all a mother needs. For her children to be happy.“

Not needing to hear more, Chiara wrapped Diana in a tight hug, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

„And he looks damn good, too,“ Diana whispered into her hair before any of them could start to cry.

*** *** ***

Ethan was standing at the desk in Chiara’s old room, smiling softly at yet another photo of a wide-eyed, smiling redhead child with a hefty book in her hand. The plan for the second day of their visit was to see all of Chiara’s favorite spots in the city.

„Uhm, Ethan?“ Chiara’s voice resounded from behind his back and it was the unfamiliar hitch in it that made Ethan turn around rapidly to face her.

„Yes?“

„I... this is stupid probably and I will totally get it when you won’t want to go but, uh,“ she took a deep breath, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, tension around her almost visible.

„There is one place I want to go to before we start the day and it would mean so much to me if you wanted to go with me but it is probably very morbid from me to want you to go and-„ the words left her mouth at such crazy pace they almost sounded like one very long word instead.

And suddenly, it became very clear what she was trying to say, even though she didn’t know how to go on.

With two steps Ethan closed the gap between them and gently put her hair behind her ear.

„Let’s go,“ was all he whispered before taking her hand and letting Chiara lead their way.

Chiara asked Ethan to give her a few minutes of solitude with her dad and brother and left him to stand under the huge oak tree while she sat down slowly, gently in front of the grave she used to visit every day.

For a long moment, she didn’t even know what to say, how to start. If at all.

She just kept staring at her crossed legs, letting the tears to fall freely.

How could it be that she had the privilege to have eyes to stare with and legs to stare at, while the mere privilege to be alive was taken away from them?, she wondered.

„Hi dad, Liam,“ she spoke at last, her voice just above a whisper.

Ethan didn't want to eavesdrop. It was not polite, not appropriate, it was invading Chiara's privacy.

It was also impossible not to do.

The place was small and quiet and the three he was standing under was too close to the place Chiara was sitting at and what was he supposed to do, sing? Whistle?

That would hardly be any more appropriate.

And so he heard everything Chiara said and he was sure he was not meant to hear any of that.

„Ethan is here with me,“ he heard her say. „I wanted you to finally meet him. I know the last time I was here, I was not overly happy about him, but he got back from the jungle and he is forgiven. So could you forget how I called him an utter asshole and just... be nice?“

Ethan’s whole body tensed and a regret washed over him like an icy shower. He couldn’t be anything but ashamed by the fact that Chiara already shared him at this place and that she probably hated him at the time.

„You would love him, dad. He is so smart, like, genius smart. As smart as you were. And he respects me more than anyone has ever respected me before. You always said that if the man does not respect my career, he does not deserve me, dad and if that is true, then nobody deserves me as much as Ethan.“

He heard her chuckle and there was a long moment of silence before she spoke again and with some kind of internal terror Ethan realized that he didn’t even try to stop hearing what she was saying anymore.

„And I am sure you would like him too, Liam. He is a great target of jokes and teasing.“

Another silence.

And then Chiara said something Ethan so desperately wished he hadn’t heard, something that made him hate himself for listening and even more for what he heard and he just wanted to run away, far away and hate himself in hiding.

„You know... I cannot say this to him, because he is not very keen on this kind of things and I don’t want to scare him but guys, I love him so much.“

*** *** ***

Chiara didn’t know how many times she thanked Ethan that he visited the cemetery with her, but she was sure it was not enough to express how grateful she was.

The least she could do was to make sure that their next stop would be her absolutely most favourite coffee shop in San Francisco and Ethan would get his morning coffee just the way he liked it.

Something was off, however. Ethan was extremely quiet the whole time and even though she was used to his moods at this point, it surprised her here, today. It was kind of their vacation, their free time, something they both so desperately craved.

Chiara could see that he was lost in his thoughts, brows furrowed and his gaze pointed somewhere behind the window. And doubts started overtaking her, because of course it was too much to take him to meet her dead father and brother. It would be too much for everyone.

Before she could decide on how to apologize for dragging him there, Ethan beat her to it and spoke first, although his gaze was still pointed elsewhere.

“I must apologize.”

Only then he turned to her and her confused raised eyebrow was the push he needed to finish the thought.

“For-“ he stopped, biting his cheek, mulling over his next words and by the expression on his face, even those he speaks next are not the ones he wished to find. “For making you feel like you cannot express yourself when you are with me.”

“Oh?” Chiara shook her head slightly, her confusion growing even bigger at the odd statement.

Ethan exhaled, suddenly aware of the place being rather empty. There were no groups of teenagers, no kids, nobody that would muffle his words and his wild heartbeat.

“I overheard some of the things you said to your dad back then,” he admitted slowly, softly, quietly and he was not proud of himself for not even trying to not to overhear it.

The confusion in Chiara’s eyes was quickly replaced by comprehension and just after that, panic.

“Oh,” this time, the sigh that left her was full of understanding.

It all clicked now. It all made sense and Chiara so desperately wished it didn’t, because she loves him and he heard and now he is scared.

She tried to come up with a response that would make everything make sense, her head starting to hurt from the pressure she put on her brain to just come up with something, damnit.

Chiara opened her mouth several times without any sound leaving it and she was internally panicking and Ethan was not even looking at her.

Until suddenly he was.

“I love you too,” he blurted out, the words a little bit slurred.

The third “oh” that left Chiara’s was so soft, had there been the teenagers or the kids, Ethan would have missed it. But he didn’t.. He heard it and it took all of the air of his lungs away, because it was almost nothing, mere two letters and yet they carried such meaning it made his throat tighten.

“You do?” she whispered at last.

“Yes, I do.”

“And it doesn’t scare you?”

“God,” Ethan laughed, pulling her closer to him and putting a long, lingering kiss on her forehead. “It scares me more than anything has ever scared me before.”

Chiara laughed softly, her warm breath tickling Ethan’s neck and she pulled away just enough to tilt her head and look at him and in her eyes, those emerald greens, so warm, so soft, so beautiful, Ethan saw more than Chiara could say at the moment, in those depths he saw that this woman, his Chiara, his light, loved him more than anyone has ever loved him before and it warmed his chest in a way he didn’t recognize and it was that moment when he knew.

There was one thing that scared him more than love. Than being loved and loving Chiara.

Losing Chiara.

And he knew it then, he knew he would fight his fears of that unknown warm feeling every day, every second of those days until it didn’t scare him anymore, because losing Chiara was not an option. Not anymore, not ever.

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x chiara

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bluefuckboy · 3 years

Text

Summer Jasmine ✨

Kiribaku A/B/O (Omegaverse)

Alpha Kirishima and Omega Bakugo

Summary: Bakugo has been a single father for three years, after a one night stand with an unknown Alpha resulted in him becoming pregnant. He has always struggled with being an Omega, but has been successful at hiding his true identity, including now while raising his daughter, Yuki. After an incident at preschool, he is called into a parent teacher conference. But what was supposed to be a simple meeting turns out to be a twist of so called “fate.” Bakugo questions whether the difficult journey he’s endured has led to this Alpha, whose scent is like a peaceful, summer breeze.

I’ll be posting the full fic on AO3 soon. It’s about 10 chapters or so and approximately 15K. The name comes from a song released in 1972 called “Summer Breeze” by Seals & Crofts. I’ll explain more when the full fic is released, but go give it a listen as it’s a good, calming song.

This is the first chapter with a note at the end on how the a/b/o universe is structured for this fic

Trigger Warnings: implications of assault against Omegas (including brief mention of attempted rape), mpreg, mentions of abortion, issues dealing with self-hate and struggles with gender identity in terms of secondary gender of a/b/o, later chapters are nsfw

@slackslumber I’m sorry this turned out to be a light novel

Bakugo glanced up at the plate next to the classroom door.

Kirishima E.

Pre-K

He inhaled and ran a hand through his hair, which he had attempted to tame in vain. It wasn’t his first parent teacher conference. Yuki was an unruly child and was becoming even more so as she got older. This time she had tried to bite the ear of another kid and Bakugo was prepared for another dull lecture from a dull teacher who didn’t know a thing about actually raising kids.

He let the breath he had been holding out and gripped the doorknob, giving it a turn. The room was set up like any normal Pre-K classroom would be. There were little brightly colored chairs in groups, large matts with the letters of the alphabet and numbers adorned the floor and model planets hung from the ceiling.

At the front of the classroom was a large desk at which sat a man with bright red hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail. He was dressed in a nice button up, sans tie, with the top couple buttons undone. Rimmed glasses sat perched atop his nose and he pushed them up with the butt of a pencil as he stared at the stack of papers in front of him.

Bakugo cleared his throat and the man looked up.

“Oh! Sorry,” he got up and went to extend a hand to Bakugo, “I’m Kirishima, you must be Yuki’s dad.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Bakugo replied, shaking the hand offered to him.

Kirishima was tall and Bakugo opted to stare at his feet clad in worn dress shoes instead of trying to meet the amber eyes of the teacher. Kirishima motioned for Bakugo to take a seat at a chair that had been moved in front of the desk.

Bakugo sat down, crossing his arms out of habit. He tended to keep to himself and that extended to his interactions with other people. He didn’t want to draw any extra attention to himself.

Kirishima seemed to be the complete opposite. It was clear he was well suited for the job he was in. Bakugo could see children’s drawings hung on the wall behind Kirishima. Little stick figures with crude faces. There were a couple that had a character with spiky red scribbled on top of its head. They had shaky letters drawn next to the stick figure that read “Mr. K.”

Kirishima moved the stack of papers to the side, and set his glasses atop it. He gave Bakugo a toothy smile and Bakugo noticed the sharpness of his canines. His brow furrowed and he tensed a bit. He didn’t particularly care for Alphas, so he was usually a little wary around them.

But Kirishima’s eyes were soft and warm. There was a small scar by one of his eyebrows and Bakugo noticed he had the makings of crows feet at the corner of his eyes despite his youthful appearance. They were probably from smiling so wide that he looked almost like a shark.

Kirishima picked up the pencil he had earlier and twirled it as he said, “I hate having meetings like this, so I’m sorry if I seem a little bit unprofessional.”

Bakugo didn’t reply and Kirishima continued, “Yuki is wonderful. She’s very bright for her age and does great with her grades. But she seems, hmm, how do I put this.”

He tapped the pencil against his temple in thought, his bottom lip sucked under his top teeth. His expression turned to concern as he spoke again.

“It feels like Yuki is lashing out, so that’s why I wanted to talk with you.”

Bakugo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “I can make her apologize to that boy and his parents. We had a conversation about using our words and stuff.”

Kirishima waved his hand. “No no it’s not that. Well, it is a part of it. But not the main reason I called you here.”

Kirishima sighed and sat back in his chair. “I care a lot about my students. It’s kinda silly but I think of them as my own kids sometimes. So I want them to do well. But not just in school.”

His cheeks tinged red slightly. “I know it’s not my place to butt in on people’s personal lives, so I apologize if I offend you, but I’m just concerned that this might be something for Yuki that is bigger than the classroom.”

He turned to reach behind him, grabbing a picture off the wall that Bakugo hadn’t noticed during his initial glance at the artwork. Kirishima placed it in front of him and Bakugo looked down at it.

It was a picture of a little stick figure girl with a bright pink bow in her hair. She was standing next to a figure of a man who was holding the black line that was the stick figure girl’s hand. The word “Daddy” had been written next to the figure in legible handwriting that must have been from a TA or something.

The background of the photo was scribbled with a blue sky and green grass, with a little house in the distance. But there was an area that was left blank, a white spot on the other side of the girl. Her little stick hand was surrounded by the white, almost as though she was trying to reach for something. “Yuki” was written in large shaky letters at the bottom of the paper.

Bakugo’s heart clenched as Kirishima spoke softly.

“This was from a week ago. We had draw your family as our art project. I don’t want to pry or assume anything, but when I asked Yuki what the white spot was, it seemed to make her upset.”

Bakugo could feel his cheeks getting hot. He wasn’t sure how to reply. It was obvious that he didn’t have a partner, and being a single parent wasn’t unusual. Rather it was the fact that in their society he wouldn’t be considered Yuki’s father.

Bakugo’s silence made Kirishima redden a bit more and he said, “I’m sorry if this is sore subject. I’m just concerned.”

“It’s fine,” Bakugo spat.

The words came out more defensive than he meant them too and Kirishima’s eyebrows knit together closer with concern. Then he asked the question Bakugo always dreaded he’d hear.

“Can I ask you about Yuki’s mother?”

Bakugo swallowed and tried to compose himself before speaking again.

“I’m raising Yuki on my own. Her mother is…”

He trailed off as his heart started beating faster. He was always so cautious and he knew that he should tell Kirishima to mind his own god damn business. But something about the calmness in Kirishima’s voice and his genuine smile made Bakugo feel like this was a safe space.

He tried to push down the ball of anxiety buzzing in his chest as he gripped the sides of the chair and said quietly, “It’s Yuki’s father, not her mother. I… I’m the one who gave birth to her.”

The admonition seemed to hang in the air and Bakugo hung his head. It shouldn’t be something he was ashamed about. Male Omegas were rare and it was even rarer for one to be able to give birth. They called it a “True Omega” and the odds were about one in a nearly half a million. It was a rarity that was often exploited, which was why Bakugo had kept it secret, even from Yuki when she asked why she didn’t have a mommy like the other kids at the playground.

The classroom was deadly quiet and Bakugo’s adrenaline was nearing the fight or flight stage, but then Kirishima spoke again.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. But don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone. I care about Yuki a lot, so I promise I won’t make things any more difficult. And if I can help in anyway, I’d be more than happy to.”

The offer caught Bakugo off guard and he finally looked up. Kirishima’s expression was one Bakugo had only seen on the face of characters from the movies he used to watch as a kid. A look that made you feel safe and protected, almost like a knight in shining armor. Kirishima smiled and it felt like a weight had been lifted from Bakugo’s chest. Even the air seemed clearer and he realized his knuckles had turned white from his death grip on the chair.

He let go, but regretted it as his hands started shaking. It felt like he was coming down from a panic attack and he felt the wetness of tears on his cheeks. He flushed from embarrassment and ducked his head into his lap.

It was mortifying, but he couldn’t stop and his whole body trembled as he wrapped his arms round himself. Fat tears were rolling down his cheeks and he wanted to melt into the floor. But suddenly there was an aroma like a summer breeze.

It wrapped around him and as he inhaled shakily his trembling started to stop. His whole body felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace from the inside out. It was a comforting, almost faintly familiar scent and he could feel his muscles relax as the tears gradually started to subside.

A tissue appeared in front of him and he realized that Kirishima had come around the desk to kneel beside him. Bakugo reached out a shaky hand to accept the tissue. As he did, the tips of his fingers brushed against Kirishima’s.

It was the briefest of contact, but it felt like little sparks had ignited from where the pads of their fingers had touched. Bakugo looked to see if Kirishima had experienced a similar feeling, but his face was still etched with worry. His hand on the back of the chair did tighten slightly however and Bakugo’s heart rate went up despite not knowing what he was expecting.

But then Kirishima was standing up again, taking the smell of the summer breeze with him. It made Bakugo realize what had happened and he looked at Kirishima with an expression between anger and fear.

“Did you just use pheromones on me?”

A/B/O Universe Notes

Alpha/Omega changes occur at puberty

Secondary sex characteristics manifest. Alphas will go through a growth spurt and will eventually grow their “fangs.” Omegas will have their first heat. Both will begin to emit pheromones and part of growing up is being able to control them. However, thanks to modern medicine, blockers makes it much easier.

70% of the population is Beta

Betas are essentially normal humans. They can procreate with each other and don’t experience a rut or a heat.

20% of the population is Alpha

They are considered a superior form of human. Physically they are usually a bit taller, able to gain muscle very easily, and have lots of stamina.

A unique characteristic of the Alpha are their fangs. They manifest during puberty and are attached to glands in the Alphas mouth. During arousal, while in rut, or even a rush of adrenaline can cause an Alpha’s fangs to descend slightly from the gum line and is referred to as “baring.” The canine teeth are connected directly to the glands and are the sharpest and most prominent, but the lateral incisor will also sharpen slightly during puberty. When an Alpha bares their fangs, the canines will become extremely pronounced. When marking, the fangs are used to puncture the skin and can secrete fluid from the glands in order to mark an Omega.

An Alpha will experience a rut occasionally. During this time they will become fixated on mating and can become irrational. Ruts are sporadic and with the help of blockers, most Alphas are able to avoid rut.

10% of the population is Omega

Generally thought of as the “weakest sex” Omegas are usually smaller in frame and it is hard for them to gain muscle. They can become pregnant regardless of gender, but male Omegas are not common. Impregnating a male Omega is also extremely difficult, unless they are a “True Omega” Most male Omegas are recessive.

The Omega experiences an estrus period, or heat, once a month. It will make them want to breed, same as the Alpha’s rut. Unlike a rut, blockers have no effect on the estrus period. During the estrus, an Omega will become wet, secreting what is referred to as slick, making it easier for an Alpha to enter them. For female Omegas it is secreted vaginally, for male Omegas it is secreted anally. However, male Omegas often produce significantly less slick during the estrus period and the chances of pregnancy are very low.

True Omegas are a phenomenon where the body is fully Omega, regardless of gender. The person will be able to be impregnated easily, even if they are male, and their estrus periods are often more intense. The percentage of True Omegas that have been reported is less than 1%.

Copulation:

Between Betas it’s exactly how it works in regular humans.

Between an Alpha and an Omega there are a few more factors. Pheromones play a part in intercourse, both in initiating and during. Slick makes it very easy for an Alpha to enter an Omega. During intercourse the Alpha is able to “knot” an Omega if significantly aroused, or in rut. Knotting lets the Alpha stay connected to the Omega for an extended period of time. Ejaculation is delayed while the Alpha is knotting. Once knotted, an Alpha will ejaculate numerous times into the Omega. Knotting can last for a few seconds, to over an hour. The physical knot is a gland at the base of an Alpha’s penis that will swell in the Omega, causing them to become stuck together until the Alpha finishes ejaculation or is rendered incapacitated.

Pregnancy

For Betas it is around a normal gestational period of 9 months. For Omegas it is shorter, usually around 4 to 5 months. Children of Omegas tend to be on the smaller side, regardless of the parents genders.

Fated Mates/Pairs

This is regarded as a fantastical idea, but has never been proven as fact or fiction. A fated pair consists of an Alpha and Omega who are so compatible, it’s almost like fate has brought them together. Some claim to have experienced almost a supernatural pull to their partner, but scientists have labeled it the evolution of compatibility making it easier for Alphas and Omegas to select the best mate for them.

#kiribaku #kiribaku au #kiribaku fanfic #kiribaku fanfiction #kiribaku omegaverse #kiribaku abo #krbk #krbk abo #krbk omegaverse #alpha kirishima #omega bakugou

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writing-gifts · 3 years

Text

here’s the 6th part of the incubus!doppio AU!

im gonna start posting this on ao3 too (with some editing in the earlier chapters so you can check that out if you wanna)

list of parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind

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“OW! What the hell--why’d you bite me so hard for!?”

You try to move your leg but Mutton blocks your way. Letting out a sigh, you stand in place and look down at the cat.

“What? What is the problem?”

He moves behind you and presses his head against the back of your calf hard enough to affect your balance. When you move your leg forward to stop yourself from falling, Mutton walks towards the door.

“Do you want me to let you out? But you just got here.”

The cat looks at you for a moment before placing his front paws on the door and stretching upward towards the knob.

Shaking your head, you walk over to the door. “I’m gonna get that cat door for you one day, I swear.”

Once it’s open, Mutton quickly circles your legs and pushes his head against them like before.

“Okay, okay I’m going!”

You walk out and the feline takes a few steps towards the forest ahead before turning to look back. His multicolored eyes stay locked on yours and you purse your lips when you realize what he wants.

“I guess I'm following you….”

After locking and closing the door, you walk after the cat as he continues into the forest. You wonder what exactly he’s so desperate to show you. Was this even normal behavior for cats? You weren't sure but you did know that Mutton was a little more on the intelligent side. Sometimes you even felt like he could even understand you.

So you go along with it, following a distance behind through what seems like endless trees and brush and fanning random insects out of your face. Fortunately, the weather was cool enough that you weren't sweating too.

However, the longer you walk, the more you fear that you might be lost. Trying to find your way back on your own would definitely make it worse though.

Just when you think you need to take a break, a body of water appears in the distance through the opening of the trees. When you and Mutton finally exit the packed foliage, you see that you’ve been led to a lake sitting in a giant clearing in the forest.

You stare a bit amazed at the size and notice a cabin near it a distance away. Mutton doesn't stop long to let you marvel at the scene though and continues towards the lake. You catch up to him and the both of you walk alongside the water.

“So do you know the person in the cabin?” You assume that’s where you're headed.

You didn’t expect a response, but Mutton merps to acknowledge you. You hum and your gaze quickly finds itself back on the lake. It was vast, going on so far you could barely see where it ended. The sky and trees reflect on its surface clearly and the water’s so still you almost feel like you can jump into the clouds if you want to.

Once the two of you are closer, you see that the brick and wood cabin was partially sitting on the grassy land behind it and partially on the water. You had also underestimated the size. Perhaps more than one person lived here?

Mutton leads you around the side of the house and stops to sit next to the front door. He looks up at you expectedly so you reach out to knock.

Several seconds pass before you hear the door being unlocked and when it opens, a handsome man with a neat, dark bob is revealed.

Unsure of what to do, you give a quick greeting and go quiet afterward. You didn't plan what to say when the door was answered, you just knew Mutton wanted you to knock.

Said cat walks into view, rubbing against the man’s leg as he walks into the house.

At that moment, realization seems to cross the man's face and he smiles at you.

“You must be the neighbor,” he says.

“Neighbor?”

“The person who lives in the house outside the forest. I saw someone moved in but never came around to introduce myself.”

"Oh, I had no idea anyone lived out here."

"That’s pretty much the reason why I’m out here.” The man moves to make room so you can walk inside. “Would you like to come in?"

You're a little hesitant since you just met but Mutton had no issue with it apparently. And the cat had actively been prepared to attack Diavolo for you on multiple occasions.

The moment you pass the threshold, you’re instantly awed. When you thought of cabins, simple and small came to mind. This one was neatly organized but it didn't give the homely vibe you’d expect.

The monochromatic room was spacious and decorated with nice looking furniture and curtains. The living area consisted of a fireplace surrounded by comfortable looking couches, and the stone wall above it held shelves that were crammed full of old looking books, various expensive looking decor and bottles. And to the right, closer to the back of the room sat a sizable dining set.

However what mostly grabs your eye is the fish tanks that were embedded in the walls throughout the room. At first you wonder why he had so many, but when you look closer you realize that they were not, in fact, separate tanks but a giant aquarium partially hidden within the walls.

Was the whole house like this? What type of cabin was this?

While you wonder where all the fish are, something twinkles in the corner of your eye. You turn to see what it is, but there’s nothing there.

So I'm imagining things now...

“--drink?”

You turn your attention to the man. "Sorry what was that?"

“I asked if you wanted anything to drink?”

You cross your arms and shake your head. “No I’m good…so do you know why Mutton led me here?”

The cat currently sits on the top of the back of one of the white couches.

“I actually needed to discuss something important with you, but I should introduce myself first. I'm Bruno Bucciarati--you can refer to me as either--and I'm a witch.”

You’re immediately skeptical. It wasn't unheard of, obviously, but you couldn't just believe whatever anyone told you. Bruno doesn’t look bothered by your dubiousness though.

“You're smart enough to not trust blindly. That’s good.” The man puts a finger to his chin. “You have a leaf on your shoulder.”

Before you can reach up to brush it off the man plucks it off you. Then just as quickly as he picked it off, the small green leaf begins to glow and transforms into a full flower.

You stare shocked trying to find any way to explain what you just saw. It was no trick of the eye either as the leaf’s form changed right before you into a completely different thing.

The man--no witch holds out the white rose and you gently take it.

“I--wow I just keep running into supernatural beings or something.”

"This forest does seem to attract them," he says.

Interesting…

You roll the flower stem between your fingers. “I’m ____ by the way.Uh, I don't know if you call him Mutton too--" You tilt your head in the direction of the feline. “--but is he your familiar or something?”

“No, he’s just a cat that likes to wander the forest. However, my familiar's over there though if you’re interested."

You get closer to the tank the witch pointed out to observe and even though you weren't exactly showing it, you were actually really excited and interested by the fact that you just met a witch.

At first you don't see anything in the huge tank other than greenery and a rocky cave ornament in the corner. But then something pops its head out of the opening. An eel that also managed to match the color scheme of the room. It was mostly white and covered in black patterns with yellow sprinkled in. It comes out of its hiding spot and swims back and forth as if it were stretching out it’s long body. Then it turns to you when it realizes that you're intently watching through the glass.

Your smile at it’s somewhat funny face and tilt your head a bit. The eel responds by tilting its own head, as if curious by your action.

"Holy crap. This is actually pretty cool! Do they talk?" you ask.

“Not really.” Bruno's smile falters. “But surprisingly Mutton does.”

“Huh?” You snicker a bit thinking the witch is joking but see that there’s no sign that he is on his face.

You look over at the cat and he stares back unblinking before glancing at Bruno.

"....I thought we weren't going to tell them."

Your heart almost jumps into your throat. “W-What?”

Bruno hums. “I thought about it and decided there's no point keeping it secret any longer. The incubus already knows. So it would only be a matter of time before he said something."

You're still reeling from Mutton talking that you almost missed what Bruno said.

“Hold on...Wait. Incubus? Are you talking about Doppio?” you ask the witch.

“Yes.”

You squint confused. “He knew and he didn't say anything? How long ago did he find out?"

"About a week," Mutton says.

"It might have benefited him in some way but I'm not sure why he didn't say anything," Bruno adds.

You exhale, somehow already on the verge of irritation with...everyone. Doppio was usually open with you, but apparently he thought this was a good thing not to mention.

You stare at Mutton who looks at you like he usually did, as if this weren’t an issue. But that was far from the case for you. It wasn't explicitly said but you were sure he told Bruno things about you, and it left you disturbed.

“...Well is there anything else I should know about Mutton?”

"Well his name's not actually Mutton," Bruno says.

"It's Leone Abbacchio, but you can call me Abbacchio."

You grimace from the human sounding voice coming from the cat you had been cuddling practically since...since you moved here!

“Okay Abbacchio, I don't really want you snooping around my house anymore--

“That can be arranged,” Bruno interrupts. “Once we ‘exorcise’ that demon constantly visiting you.”

Your already furrowed brow deepens. Doppio wasn't possessing anything though. You weren't even sure he was capable of that.

“No, I don't want that!”

"Listen, it might seem like Doppio is harmless, but things can become dangerous if he grows too serious of an attachment to you. And if it makes you feel better, we won’t need to hurt him if he leaves quietly."

You weren't exactly sure what the witch meant by "dangerous" but his serious tone managed to spark some anxiety within you.

"I mean it would be natural for Doppio to get upset if I suddenly wanted him gone."

"He's not just talking about being upset." Abbacchio says, annoyance in his tone. "Doppio could literally keep you against your will if he wanted and there would be no way for Bruno to reverse it."

"All demons are naturally envious creatures and the way things are going between you two, it’s only a matter of time. And this doesn't even take into account the other demon." Bruno says.

Diavolo aside, you couldn't bring yourself to see Doppio in that light.

"But--"

The front door slams open and the temperature in the room seems to drop.

Doppio stomps in, his face flushed. Once he sees you he seems to relax slightly but his expression is still irate.

“I finally found you!” he exclaims.

Bruno raises a brow and turns to Abbacchio.

The cat's ears fold back in frustration. "I was sure I lost him."

The incubus walks up to you, stopping too close and grabbing your shoulders harshly. “Are you okay?”

“Doppio you're gripping me too tightly.” You push off his hands and wrap your arms around yourself to shield your body from the sudden chill that seemed to appear. “I’m fine….But they're talking about you being able to keep me? What does that exactly mean?”

You wanted to hear an explanation from the incubus himself. You trusted him not to lie to your face if you asked him straight on.

However, Doppio reacts strangely, as if he's afraid. He makes some space between the two of you and struggles to look at you. You try to catch his gaze again but he refuses to keep eye contact.

"It's…" He strains his fingers. "Well, you see, incubi and succubi can form a….c-connection with a weaker being if they’re close enough. Then they could technically stay together forever."

Abbacchio grunts, "Way to sugar coat it--"

“I wouldn’t do that to you though ____! I didn't even consider it! U-Unless you wanted to it would never happen and I know that you like your space…”

The incubus is the most stressed you've seen him.

Even though you were still upset you didn't like seeing him like this, so in an attempt to ease him, you try to smile. Unfortunately, it comes off pretty strained.

You take a moment to mull over what he said though and come to a conclusion pretty quickly. "Even though that was kind of vague...I think I understand. And honestly, I can't see you forcing me into that."

You'd never seen a cat roll their eyes until now.

"Typical human. They're a lost cause Bruno. Let's leave them to do what they want," Abbacchio says before stretching and laying down.

The witch looks disapprovingly at the cat. "You know I can't do that. Perhaps they actually were charmed. I could--"

"Sir," you say to get his attention. "I appreciate your concern, but I trust Doppio and I'd prefer if you didn't get in between the two of us."

Having to tell your almost neighbor you just met to buzz off even in a polite way wasn't what you were expecting to do today.

Bruno doesn’t look upset though. He's quiet, studying you with an unreadable expression but then he nods.

"I'm having Leone check up on you. If anything seems off I'm getting involved."

Your brows furrow slightly. Didn't you just explicitly say you didn't want Abbacchio snooping around your home anymore?

You want to argue more but the witch didn't leave room in his statement to negotiate. And even though you hate to admit it, keeping the supernatural out of your home wasn't exactly your strong suit. It pissed you off but you couldnt do anything about it. So you give a curt nod and immediately walk to the exit with Doppio following closely behind.

Once outside, you follow the incubus through the forest. There's a long, awkward stretch of silence between you two though.

Doppio tries to sneakily glance at you, which you of course you notice but you choose to ignore it. However, after the 50th one he finally decides to say something.

"____?"

You sigh, "What?"

He slows to a stop to turn and look at you properly but, again, he has trouble keeping eye contact.

"Are you mad?"

Maybe at first but now it had changed to more of a disappointed feeling.

"Not necessarily but you knew about Mutt--Abbacchio and didn't say anything to me. So I'm not exactly happy right now."

"I didn't but--"

You shake your head. "No Doppio. I'm too tired right now to understand whatever weird logic you formed in your head."

His mouth closes and the hurt on his face instantly makes you regret your choice of words. Maybe you shouldn't have said it like that but you really didn't feel like listening to excuses right now.

You look away from Doppio. "Let's just go, please."

#incubus!doppio #vinegar doppio x reader #doppio x reader #reader insert #jjba x reader #if you're wondering what type of eel it is its a snowflake eel #anyways yEP #if you wanna be added to the tag list you can ask in the replies or message me whichever you want #i still need a title for ao3

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 5 - The Stratosphere

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, where will they go?, 2.7k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

“So, I was thinking,” Luke was saying to Julie once everyone was back in the green room, chatting lightly as they packed up their gear. “Maybe I could visit your mom in the hospital and play some songs for her. Cheer her up, you know?”

Julie looked so touched. Willie still didn’t know their whole story, but they seemed like a good fit. He had offered to help Alex load up his drums, but apparently there were people paid to do that here. Alex was just supervising it because he wanted to make sure they were handled right. It was a pity this place was full of techs and ushers and security because it was so tempting for Willie to try a few tricks on his board in there.

He’d finally gotten a proper introduction to everyone, and it turned out that all of Alex’s friends were great. The guys were all super chill, and he couldn’t thank Julie and Flynn enough for letting him be there to begin with. They seemed almost like a family. If he didn’t think about it too long, then he could ignore how badly he wanted to stay around all of them for as long as he could. Willie couldn’t remember anywhere that had felt so warm and open. He ran his fingers over the new bandage that he’d gotten on his hand.

Alex sat beside him, gear all stashed away.

“So, what’s your plan?” he asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Willie teased. “But it’s close.”

Alex looked around the room and then back at him with wonder in his eyes, raising the corners of his lips.

“Just the two of us though,” Willie added.

“Of course,” Alex nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, guys,” Luke spoke to the entire room. Flynn, Reggie, and Bobby stopped the silly hand clapping game they were in the middle of and all turned their heads to face him.

“Julie and I just came up with a super cool plan,” Luke continued. Julie stood with him, and Luke immediately stood back to let her speak.

“I told you guys that my mom’s cancer is back. She’s given a lot to me, and I don’t think I could ever give back everything. But it would be really neat if we all gave her a private mini concert.”

Cheers went around the room, making Julie beam with happiness.

“I know it’s short notice,” she went on. “But I want to try to do it once we’re all back in California.”

“But what about your shows in the next couple of days?” Flynn questioned.

“I’m gonna see if I can reschedule them. I know it isn’t an ideal thing to do but with my mom’s condition, I’ve gotta do what I can.”

Willie sat quietly. He would’ve been happy to be involved, but was too aware that he was staying here in Vegas. That same feeling of wrongness crept along his skin, making him fold his arms and rub his thumb where it rested. He wasn’t sure when he’d picked up the habit, but he was doing it a lot more often recently.

“Uh…” he started. “I’m gonna catch up with you guys later, if that's okay.” He glanced over at Willie in a subtle but giddy manner.

The group finished discussing plans about getting together for a quick practice and what kind of songs they would do for Julie’s mom. When Willie suggested Yellow Submarine, Alex advocated for it as well, and he was happy to have made at least some contribution to their ideas. Once all that was put together, everyone got ready to go their separate ways. All the guys shuffled toward their van and Alex hung behind for a moment.

The guys all looked mildly surprised, but ultimately shrugged.

“Catch you later, Alex,” Luke said, giving him a wink. Reggie was singing Yellow Submarine under his breath as they drove away, to which Willie giggled quietly.

“You ready?” he turned to Alex, noticing his hands were free from clutching the strap of his fanny pack this time.

“I guess I am,” Alex said, smiling through his nerves.

Willie took his hand tightly and carried his board with the other. Alex's smile only grew wider as they hurried out to the street. The goofy jerking between their hands only made them squeeze harder to keep contact. He could hear the delighted chuckle being released behind him as he guided Alex across the city. He felt his lungs let forth a youthful yell from his throat, and he felt like Peter Pan crowing as he flew through the stars.

People darted out of their way as they rushed onward. Willie eventually saw his target, the Stratosphere, and didn't even bother pausing before he pulled Alex through the entrance. The elevator was just being emptied and before anyone could stop them, he tugged Alex inside and pressed the buttons to get them to the highest floor. The doors shut and they felt the jolt of being lifted from the ground pull them downward.

"Aren't we supposed to pay for tickets?" Alex panted, laughing between breaths.

Willie, also doubled over in laughter, just shook his head.

"Capitalism sucks, man! Don't buy into it!"

Alex only wheezed, leaning into the wall for support. Eventually, they both sat on the floor and after a few more bouts of laughter were able to calm down and breathe normally.

"When you said you had your ways I didn't know you literally meant you could just walk in anywhere," Alex thought aloud.

"The concert was luck," Willie smiled. "Here, it's just practice."

Alex shook his head incredulously. They both sighed, feeling that strange tension that had been there back in the diner, except Willie felt it in his fingertips. He eyed Alex’s hand lying inches away, and imagined himself reaching through and lacing their fingers together.

"How's that relaxing going, by the way?" he wondered.

"Hard to tell with you around," Alex stated, sarcasm not to be missed.

"I'll take the compliment."

Their long ride inside the elevator was near the end, and they stood up as the numbers got closer. Willie felt Alex's pinkie reach for his and he was happily surprised at the feeling of skin twining with skin. It was like they didn’t have to say anything - they just felt the same things. The door opened to the fresh evening breeze and revealed the wonderful sight before them.

"Whoa," Alex breathed, immediately drawn to the view on the observation deck. The lights from below sparkled in his eyes and Willie followed as they came right up to the railing. Both of them sat in awed silence, watching everything blink and glitter beneath them. The mountains in the distance bordered everything in a gentle, majestic manner. Willie had been up here so many times and somehow never noticed the odd sense of being folded in angels' wings before.

“I’ve been an idiot,” Alex started saying. Willie turned his head in confusion. Their hands slipped apart as Alex began gesturing to emphasize his words. “I’ve been thinking all day about how everything goes wrong and expecting everything to go wrong. I haven’t been enjoying anything nearly as much as I should be right now.”

Willie didn’t reply just yet. He just looked at Alex, watching how tense he was still, almost as if he could see the lion in the cage inside his head. All he wanted was to set it free. He looked around, and while there were a couple people on the other side of the observation deck, they seemed likely to just take pictures and then head back down.

“You know what I love about being up here besides the view?” he asked Alex.

“What?”

Willie gripped the railing as hard as he could, took in a deep breath, and screamed out into the darkness. Alex looked around nervously, but only watched the other people on the deck make their way back to the elevator.

“You gotta try it,” Willie urged.

Alex braced himself against the barrier and gave a nice little yelp.

“Oh, are you a puppy up for adoption?” Willie joked, tugging on Alex’s jacket. “Your whole body needs to let go.”

Alex looked back at him with an intense focus, and then turned back to the railing. Filling his lungs to the brim, he yelled viciously over the top of it. Willie joined him and they both staggered between screaming and taking moments to breathe. Something about it said words beyond what they had spoken. Willie heard a unique sort of agony as Alex belted everything to the night. He wondered if his pain came through as well.

Alex finally sighed as he finished his last shout and then looked up at the sky and closed his eyes.

“I did enjoy that,” he said. “Thank you.” He dropped his posture and Willie smiled at seeing him finally loosen up.

“Didn’t know you had so much pent up rage,” he commented.

“I guess I didn’t either,” Alex said, chuckling darkly. He sat on the ground and looked up at Willie to follow suit. Taking a seat across from him, Willie eyed him curiously.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Staring contest,” Alex said plainly.

Unfortunately, Willie blinked immediately. Probably ten times in succession, actually. This time, Alex got to laugh.

“Okay, not an actual staring contest,” he said. “ But I’ve tried this with all the guys in the band. We look into each other’s eyes for a few minutes, no speaking, and we just....know each other better. Bobby’s the one who started it.”

Willie only nodded as they got into comfortable positions before locking eyes. He tried to silence any impulses for his mind to focus on anything else and channeled everything into looking at Alex. Even in the dim light, he picked up the green color staring back at him. The stillness outside rivaled the storm within them.

Slowly, the storm softened into waves of caring kindness. They were powerful, but low, as if Willie were wading in shallow water and letting them crash over him. Each wake broke upon him in just the way he wanted to collide with them. This wasn’t a tide where he would get lost in the danger of the deep. The current was pushing him back to the shore, toward safe ground.

The image in his mind suddenly morphed, and he was transported from calming waves to a rickety road. Fields passed by as he found himself looking out a window. His vision steered to his left, and an older man with a jovial smile sat at the wheel, turning to him as if they’d been passing jokes between them. The man’s familiar laugh echoed in his head.

Absent-mindedly, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand. Pulled out of his trance, Alex looked at him with concern.

“I just remembered something,” Willie said, sounding like he’d received divine communication. It almost felt like he had. That image was supposed to be locked away, he’d been told. Never to be known again.

“What, like you left the stove on or something?” Alex asked in confusion.

Willie shook his head seriously. His hand was still squeezing Alex’s but he couldn’t get it to loosen its grip. It wasn’t because the memory had scared him, but fear was present anyway.

“No.” His eyes had trouble focusing on Alex’s face, now. “I think I remembered my dad. Like we were driving together. I remembered him.”

Alex dipped his head lower as he tried to figure out what Willie meant.

Willie bit his lip and looked at him apprehensively. This wasn’t the intended topic of discussion tonight. It wasn’t a subject he was usually allowed to speak of to begin with. He opened his mouth and clamped it shut, and then opened it again.

“I have retrograde amnesia,” he confessed.

Alex’s jaw slacked and hung open for a minute. Willie wasn’t sure how long he could handle this gorgeous boy blinking at him in disbelief before Alex closed it again.

“Oh my god, Willie,” he started, still sounding unsure but remaining gentle.

“I’m sorry, that’s sort of a really big thing to just drop on somebody,” Willie started.

“No, no, you don’t need to be sorry,” Alex soothed. “But, oh my god, you just remembered something.”

Willie ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.

“Yeah… I did,” he said, just realizing the significance of that himself. His past wasn’t entirely under lock and key. That...brought a lot of emotions with it.

“Wait, so how long have you been like this?” Alex asked.

“About a year and a half,” Willie told him solemnly. “Caleb told me I was hit by a car when I was out skating. I even have a scar.” He lifted his hair and turned his head so Alex could get a look. Alex grimaced and shook his head, clearly not liking the visual he’d received in his mind.

“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” he said.

“Yeah, Caleb said that too.”

“Wait, who’s Caleb?” Alex blurted.

“Oh,” Willie looked downcast. “He’s my legal guardian. And my boss. You saw him this morning, remember?”

“That’s your legal guardian?” Alex said, sounding slightly upset. “Guy gave me the creeps.”

“That’s fair,” Alex said, sounding a little unconvinced of his own statement. He sat quietly for a minute. Willie studied him, worried about how he would respond next. Any fun had been sucked out of the air due to his own personal business.

“Yeah, well,” Willie shrugged. “He does that. But, what can I do, you know?”

“So, for the past year and a half,” Alex started. “You’ve had nobody except your boss?”

Wow, that hit him right in between the eyes. Willie hadn’t actually considered that before. He blinked momentarily and then looked directly into Alex’s eyes as pain slowly took over. Then hot tears welled up, causing him to look away.

“I guess not,” he said quietly, his voice already trembling. Before he could huddle into a little ball, Alex’s arms were around him, pressing his head to his chest. Heaving a sigh, he let the tears fall as quietly as he dared to be. His hand crept up to hold onto Alex’s shoulder and gripped tightly. A funny weight was felt on the top of his head, and he realized Alex was running his fingers through his hair. It was so soothing, so...sweet. Willie didn’t realize that was something he missed from his many forgotten memories.

Soon, he straightened up and wiped his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said to Alex, knowing he couldn’t possibly convey how grateful he truly was.

“Of course,” Alex assured him, still gazing upon him tenderly.

“I guess I killed the mood, huh?” Willie attempted to joke. Alex simply smirked and shook his head.

“For what it’s worth, I was totally lost in your eyes, so I needed to come back to reality.”

Willie couldn’t help but smile, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“That was for free,” he said, already getting back into step with his sense of humor. “I charge everyone else.”

Alex quietly entered the hotel and slipped into the door of their room. The guys had thankfully left it ajar so he wouldn’t be locked out. Luke was already lightly snoring on the couch, and he saw that Reggie and Bobby had both taken the larger bed. Carefully pulling his fanny pack over his head and setting it on the side table, he kicked off his shoes.

“Hey, Alex,” he heard Reggie whispering. Dammit. “How’d it go?”

The entire night replayed on fast forward in his mind, and he couldn’t get over the beauty of it all. The weight of it all.

“It was good, Reg,” he whispered back. He quickly changed and climbed into the bed that came down from the wall. Too many thoughts and feelings swirled in his mind like a cajun soup. Willie was amazing. There was nothing else to it except smaller details that attested to the same fact. Today had been all he would have of him, though. His mind paused on that thought as silence filled his ears.

“Did you kiss him?” Reggie whispered out of the blue in curiosity.

“Hey, bigger spoon,” Bobby mumbled groggily. “Be quiet.”

Alex didn’t answer, but smiled quietly to himself. He should have kissed him.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #viva las vegas #stratosphere #fiddlepickdouglas

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