#My first plan was to make a LAMP series with all their birthdays but life said 'no' and then I just worked with what I had and
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No Moving
Kanene’s note: One year ago I threw a surprise party (very small and cozy) in my house and, after some hours, one of mah friends suggested we played some old games from our childhood and I remember my first thought was “Hey, no. We’re not children anymore.” but I said nothing because that sounded a lot like what society would want me to say. We played. And that was one of the best days I’ve ever had. Good enough to give me inspiration for this fanfic. With a lot of chaos and dorky sides and chaos and tickles!!! So I'm giving this to myself as a gift, because, ya know... S e r o t o n i n! Soooo, the lesson? Idk. Be feral, do chaos, play and f**k the society, I guess. Happy day for us all!!! :DD
Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:
* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!
* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b
* This is Ler!Roman and Ler!Virgil with Lee!Logan and Lee!Patton. Around 3.700 words.
* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/
* Eu vou traduzir ainda ;w;. Thank you so so so much for being with me through all this crazy and difficult year. It’s been a bless to have all of you in my notes, my askys, and my notifications! Take care of yourself, lollipop, you deserve. <33
[~*~]
It was a sunny day. The heat from the biggest star of our solar system being placated by a relaxing wind incessantly throwing the napkins from the so careful, yet messy – as if this wasn’t a tradition the quartet repeated affectionately every single year – decorated table. The friends positioned themselves around it. The surprise party’s rush being already over after all their screaming, singing, eating and bickering, leaving the four to lazily chat or stare the breeze carrying lonely flowers around Virgil’s – the one who offered his house as a sacrifice to the chaos - yard, making them float in the air for some seconds before forgetting them on the dirt again.
Virgil snored softly from the spot he conquered on the tabletop, taking a peaceful nap. Patton was saying, in the fastest pattern he could muster, all the dad jokes his brain managed to think only to see how much time Logan would continue to give him the silent treatment before finally – and figuratively, the owner of the only brain cell of their group would say if he heard this narrative, - exploded and Roman?
Well, Roman was bored.
“I HAVE AN IDEA!!”
Then he slammed his hands on the top of the wooden object, successfully scaring Virgil out of it and of his sleeping – leading the poor adult to fall. Not before kicking a cup in Roman’s direction, his moves being weakened enough by his fogged brain so he missed it and hit Roman’s carefully manicured hands, instead, – at the same Patton, by reflex, slapped the two poor persons who had the bad luck of sitting next to him. He gathered the perfect timing to interrupt Logan’s scared jump by his confused ‘Why did- why- Why did you hit ME?’ sputtering.
“Ow.” The one in red shirt held protectively his arm and hand next to his chest, protesting with his usual offended noises as analyzed the light red spots on them and purposely ignored the ‘What the FUCK, Princey??’ shouted by the host. “Ow. O-w. Are you guys seriously going to hit me every time I try to make your poor lifes better, your barbarians? You know what? I am offended. Your peasants. I am going to get my dear Amanda the katana and then I am- I am out.”
Logan deadpanned in his direction, lifting one of his eyebrows in his disbelief expression as the other didn’t give a single step to the exit. He did his best to maintain the façade as Patton fuzzed over him, hugging and apologizing and hugging and softly petting his head and offering cake before gasping and turning around to fuzz now over Roman. “… Okay. I am taking Patton with me.”
“Over my dead, haunted body.” Virgil quickly proclaimed before his tune got slurred, very much likely still sleepy. “I saw…” He balanced his hands in front of him, eyes wide and hair spiked, very much reminding of a scared cat. “I saw the angel of death, in all his tall dark, cold aura. In front of me. He was right before me, full of-” He moved his hands more, as if that compensated for his lack of words. “Emo.”
“…Thanatos?” Logan pointed.
“Yeah, yeah. That guy.” Virgil came back to his initial position laying down on the cold surface, yawing. “Totally emo.”
“Actually, when he was created-”
“Excuse me. Focus, focus!” The one who initiated the commotion snapped his fingers until all the eyes were fixated on him, glares traveling from interested to unimpressed. “My brilliant idea? That will light up this party and hearts? Drum the drums!” Silence. He turned to Patton, who was staring at a cute butterfly mindless flying around. “Patton! The drums!” The one wearing black rims seemed to come back to reality, drumming his fingers on the table. “Very well!” Roman spun, extending the suspense. Logan came back to scrolling on his phone, Virgil getting closer to take a look, both hiding a smirk when heard the pout in Roman’s tune. “You’re all jerks and boring. Let’s play S.T.O.P!”
That caught their attention.
“Roman, you are…” Logan talked slowly, as if trying to make his words as clear as possible, “aware that we’re adults now, right?”
“Aw, come on, guys!” Patton jolted upright. “Sounds fun! And I think Virgil’s yard is bigger enough to make it even better than when we played in middle school!”
“Exactly! And it was one of your favorites games when you were younger, remember, Specs? I think it’s a good way to celebrate that special date which is your birthday!” Logan scoffed at that, albeit his mind was somewhere else.
Roman wasn’t wrong, he really used to love this game, especially because he was good at it. His love for sports was often ignored by most of his classmates because of his good grades – Logan never understood why one thing would exclude other – therefore he was constantly forgotten in the team or even underestimated. Two things extremely crucial in a game like this. Roman noticed his contemplating face. “I mean, except you are afraid of losing. Again.”
“I did not lose! Kyle fell on me and he was the only one supposed to be out and not both of us and you. Know. It!”
“No, no, no! Claire said you were the one who tripped on your way and then YOU fell on Kyle-”
“That is nonsense! If Claire had stopped just one second her Dance of Victory, she would be able to see that, by the angle we both were on the ground there was no way I would be able to-”
“Oh, plu-e-ase. You are just a sore los-”
“What is this game?” Virgil questioned Patton, both letting the bickering fall on the background, who smiled widely, his gaze unfocusing a bit, probably watching some old memories of his childhood.
“It is a very simple but fun game!! One person stays next to a wall and, oh! We call him the Looker by the way! Or even some large thing and the others players stay the most away from him as possible. The person next to the wall has to count until a certain number of his choice and while he is counting everyone is free to wander around the place until he turns around, then every player has to freeze on the same spot and position they were. If you move and the Looker catches you, you’re out. You win if you touch the wall where he was. You can do everything you want as long the Looker is not staring at you.
“There was that one kid who managed to win the game by climbing a tree until he was close enough to jump from it and run to the wall before the Looker shouted he was out.” The one wearing two party hats as ‘cat hears’ stopped to breath. “Ah! Ah! Also! If you’re out you can choose to just watch the game or become the Looker’s partner and try to help him. Roman and Logan used to be the worst ever when together.” He giggled, sounding a bit hysteric.
“Hm. I think they used to call this ‘10 Seconds’ in my school, since you could count only further than 10 seconds.” Virgil then frowned. “Wait, why were they the worst?”
“Uhh, so, you see, the Lookers can use some… attics to try to make you move. Logan and Roman usually choose to-”
“I do NOT wish to participate.” Logan stated, crossing his arms stubbornly. Roman sighed.
“Well, you do you.” Roman then traveled his glare to the others two. “Are you guys coming? I’m the Looker.”
“I’m in!!” Patton excitedly got up, joggling his way to the yard, casting a slightly worried look at Logan, who was adjusting his chair in order to have a better view of the game. Virgil shrugged, taking off his hoodie and following them, quickly throwing a ‘You ok?’ as he passed next to the most professional of the group.
“Yes.” He deeply breathed, sounding calmer. “Yes, I am.” And then give him a bite of a smile.
Roman positioned himself before the colorful three foot tall concrete tunnel forgotten there by the last owner, barely catching with the corner of his field view his two friends whispering something to each other, the one wearing two party hats snickering behind his hand, bouncing as also choose a good position far away from him, who tried to not think much about what he just presented. A suspicious feeling crawled the back of his neck.
“Go.” Logan pronounced.
“Oneeeee, twooo, three, fourfivesixseveneight,” Roman turned away from them, counting in a tune just above a whisper. Patton and Virgil exchanged glances.
When he got at twenty, he turned.
Only to find Virgil laid on the grass, his arm extended to point something in the sky, Patton crouched by his side, his face firm in a puzzled expression staring in the same direction, hand above his eyes to block the Sun. Roman frowned in confusion, the curiosity tickling the back of his brain until he succumbed to it, also looking at the sky to - surprise, surprise! – find absolutely nothing!
By the time he stared at them again Patton now was in front of Virgil, both making what seemed like a very horrible parody of The Creation of Adam painting. Roman got closer, managing to clearly see the smug smile on Virgil’s face and Patton wobbly lips, very much likely holding laughter. He crossed his arms, staying stubbornly for some seconds before giving up, seeing that none of them moved a single millimeter.
“You two are so funny.” Roman rolled his eyes, sarcasm dropping from each word. Logan snorted.
This time the Looker counted at only fifteen seconds.
This time Patton was in Virgil’s arms when he turned, one leg suspended dramatically in the air. The third time Roman growled loudly as Virgil was on one knee, pretending to propose to Patton who was frozen in the middle of his faint. In the fourth he didn’t even have the chance to turn before two hands tased his sides, making his knees buckle but being held in the same place when a pair of arms that hugged him from behind, capturing the poor adult in a flow of high-pitched squeaks and surprised laughter at each squeeze and spidering deposited just above his hips.
Some minutes later soft snorts followed him to the ground when he was finally freed, flames running on his face and his arms firmly pressed at his sides, the ghost tickles leading to a sea of giggles dancing in the air.
“Enough.” Logan cut the moment, all the eyes on him when he got up, stretching and loosening his party tie. The Looker recomposed himself in order to sneak pokes and squeezes on the other two, who quickly dashed their way back to the yard. “You both clearly aren’t taking this seriously enough.” A dangerous gleam took over his eyes, staring intently to Roman, who instantly got the same kind of shine in his own glare, nodding in his direction. Both too much preoccupied to notice Virgil and Patton silently high fiving in the distance.
The game started again, now a very different electricity dancing in the air. Logan sensed an old feeling of nostalgia resting on his back as he analyzed the place and his opponents as things went by. Roman turned for at least three times – the perfect number for things to get really interesting, - before he decided to finally move from his place.
Silent steps, he went right to Patton. Logan breathed in relief, taking the opportunity to adjust his strategic position half behind the tree. Patton kept a pattern of switching from moving too fast in a round and then barely taking a step in the other, however, as Roman stopped before him, and for the way he soundless snickered as The Looker changed his target to Virgil, his weakness was still holding his laughter when stared for long periods of time.
Virgil was sitting on the grass. Again. A very good tactic when you tend to fidget or tremble a lot. He would stay in the same position for some rounds until in an explosion of energy dash forward when Roman wasn’t paying attention. The Looker crouched in front of him, his index finger pointing and almost touching his nose.
“You. I don’t trust you.”
And then there was Logan.
“You,” Roman stared in distance – not because of fear pffff of course not - Logan’s form half hidden by the foliage and trunk of the medium tree, his glass making his eyes gleam in a light even more enhanced due the shadow provided by the plant, the rest of his face being partially hidden because of his bangs falling on his features. “are fucking creepy. Stop.”
In the next round Patton gave everyone a heart attack when he screamed since he didn’t heard/saw Logan approaching his spot. Two more rounds. Virgil sneezed and lost his balance in a not very ideal mid-run position. Out.
“Oh, thank gracious, great goodness!! Come here, Knight Mare!! I have an idea!!” Virgil barely had time to stop swearing for losing before being recruited by Roman, who immediately began to whisper in his ear.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Patton asked, both being close enough for the question doesn’t need to be spoken above a murmur.
“Not a good thing for us both, I am sure.” In that moment The Lookers turned and a cold shiver ran Logan who, for the way Patton trembled, wasn’t the only one. Adrenaline started pulsing on his veins when they approached, although the birthday person had no idea of why. His old memories too much buried under newer ones for him to catch them.
“Nooohoho.” The cat lover whined and the fact Roman clearly saw that but did nothing to point it, his only reaction being to expand his grin, worsened Logan fears, a ray of recognition finally shining on his mind. That should be how karma feels.
“Look at you both, just standing right there, not being allowed to move an only single inch. What a sad fate, don’t you think, Princey?”
“Oh, absolutely, emo. A horrible, wondrous thing, indeed. But you know what that would be perfect for?” Roman now was just a few centimeters away, the infinitesimal distance being cut when he inclined forward, his breath tickling Patton’s – Poor Patton – ear. “Revenge. You know, Pattycake, Hot Topic here told me the previous attack on my amazing person was your idea. And now that I stop to think, what a wonderful idea, don’t you think, Pat-pat?”
Virgil pulled lightly Roman’s shoulder, sensing the other about to crack but yet having too much fun to end this all so early. “But not now. No touching, right?”
“Oh, right, right. Of course, no touching!” He wiggled his fingers, barely away from the poor target’s ribs, his cheeks already beginning to get pink from blush. “No touching, no touching, no touching, but, most important than anything else: no. moving.”
“Oh, yeah.” Virgil took the opportunity to walk around, stopping right behind Patton, who firmly closed his eyes, the smile he carried getting bigger. “Because the exact, very moment when you can’t take the teases anymore so you break and move?” He tsked. “Then all your protection will be over and you will be all helpless and vulnerable for us to tickle,” He almost purred the words, in the slowest way possible. “tickle, tickle, tickle for hours and hours. Can you imagine that, Popstar? Our fingers prodding and squeezing and tickling every single ticklish spot they find?”
“Ohoho.” Roman evil laughed. “Tickle spots? My Dear Imbalanced Romance, our pipsqueak here doesn’t have any tickle spots. He IS a tickle spot. Ah! I can almost hear his hysteric high-pitched squeaks and giggles! Such an adorable, beautiful, cute melody to my ears. Actually, I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop, Virgil. It’s just all too beautiful and intoxicating, you know?”
“Mm hm,” The other seemed to stop to think. Patton felt like he was going to melt at any moment. “Well, we could always just keep going forever.”
“Of course!” Roman again ignored the slight trembling of the cat lover’s chest, probably due all the giggles trapped there. “Don’t you think it will be wonderful and oh, so, so fun, cutiepants? Receiving all the tickles and nuzzles and raspberries and tickle hugs and tickly butterfly kisses forever and ever and ever? ~” He sing-song the last part.
“But,” Logan almost jumped in the same place, not even realizing how much keyed up he was before Virgil’s breath attacked the back of his defenseless neck. Suddenly all his nerves were hype-aware that he couldn’t turn around or run or even rub away the tingles. Goosebumps ran freely across his spine. “Let’s not forget about our so sensitive nerd here too, right?”
“Sure. Sensitive.” If he didn’t know Roman for all these years, Logan would almost swear he was the Cheshire cat, his smirk almost blocking Patton who hugged himself behind him, giggling quietly. “Because the serious, smart, professional Logan would never be ticklish, right? That is such a childish thing and he definitely, definitely outgrow it for now.”
“Yup. I am sure that, if we slowly and thoroughly spider our fingers all the way up from his sides to his armpits, being sure to give each and every rib a special attention since we don’t want to let anyone feeling left out, there will be no reaction.”
“Absolutely! No reaction at all! Not even if we squeeze the hollows of his hips, or scribble on his already quivering tummy, or massage his shoulder blades or lightly, almost not touching, scratch his armpits… It will be all in vain since our birthday boy is not ticklish.”
“Which means: No wheezy, frantic laughter.”
“Or sputtering among his squeals.”
“Or cute snorts. Don’t forget the snorts.”
“And what about when the snorts get mixed with his belly laughter?”
“Ohh, that is some good shit you have there.”
Logan was dying. He was fucking dying and the only thin line keeping him alive was his stubborn nature. He could already feel his barrier cracking and crumbling right before him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to find both Lookers walking away back to the tunnels, not taking long before starting to count, this time out loud. The one with the, now freaking out, braincell began to snap his fingers non stop, trying to get away some of the built excited energy, some titters escaping from his lips during his happy stimming.
Roman and Virgil looked at each other and then the adorable scene right in front of them, deciding to have mercy and wait patiently for Logan and Patton – who yet didn’t stop giggling and hugging himself – to calm down.
(…)
One. Move.
And in the next second, they both were tackled on the ground.
“No, no, no!!! No!!” Patton was already giggling, trying to run from Roman’s firm hug, attacking with squeezes and scribbles in every spot he succeeded to research on the Looker as he also tried to escape from his friends’ hands attempting to hold him in the same place. “Wait, wait!” He cried, barely catching a glimpse of Logan’s trashing before an idea popped in his mind. “If we all gang up on Logan, I will tell about his secret tickle spot!!”
“Patton!!” Logan’s protest came out difficulty between his tight grin due his constant effort in trying to buckle Virgil from him, both struggling to immobilize the other and playfully rolling in the grass. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Pffft.” Roman said, a happy cry following his sentence when he finally managed to hold one of Patton’s hands, intertwining their fingers so the cat lover wouldn’t try to pry it away. “Nonsense, I know his tickle spots.”
“Not all of them. ~”
“Patton, I am to going not figuratively end you. Get OFF, Virgil-”
“In your dreams.” He crackled. “Also, Patton, I’m listening.”
“Virgil! Don’t align with the enemy! And, of course I know all of them!”
“Even the one…”
“Patton, no! Stop!” Roman even if concentrated in tickling Patton’s knee so he could sit on his legs, got the slight tremble in Logan's voice, his curiosity one more time starting to take over his brain.
“Sorrey, sorrey, Lo! You know I love you but-”
“Patton, please.” Logan almost smiled as he fought his way to hug and trap Virgil from behind, but losing his balance as the other quickly turned and delivered a raspberry on his neck and quick squeezes on his left thigh. “dON’T!! I-I am going to bakeEEK - Fuck! - you a whole batch of cookies if you don’t tell them!”
Roman caught in the offer, his curiosity immediately perking up, answering in a bat:
“I’m going to tickle you both to pieces if you don’t tell us now.”
“Sorrey, Logan,” Patton tried to sound apologetic, but his excited smile made this task more difficult. “it’s you or me.”
“I’m going to tell them about your calves!” Logan threatened at the same time Patton said “It’s his lower back!”
“TRAITOR!” Both also shouted in synchrony. In a blink of eye Roman let Patton go and helped Virgil to make the most serious one of the group lay down on his stomach.
“I despise you all.” The aforementioned pronounced.
“Aww. Come on.” Virgil lowered, searching the other’s eyes, grinning. “Aren’t you enjoying the view?”
“400.000 years of evolution for humanity to become this. You all should be ashamed of yourselves.”
“You know, talking like this makes me think you don’t want us to give you your so dearly craved birthday tickles, Pocket Protector!”
The three of them stared at the other, looking carefully for any slight indication that Logan was truly uncomfortable with the situation, receiving as response only a scoff, the blush painting his face as a whispered mumble flew from his mouth.
“You’re so cute!” Patton squealed, giving a light tickly kiss on the back of his neck, leading the attacked to suppress a small giggle which progressively got louder as the cat lover tickled his armpits, Roman and Virgil seeing unfazed by Logan’s squirming. “Okay, okay. You have to tickle his lower back but starting with reeeeeally slow scratches at his sides before speeding it to the fastest scribbling you can muster as you move to his spine!”
Logan hid his hot face behind his hands, the yelps and snorts already escaping between his fingers. He was, objectively, going to love every single second of this.
#Ler!Roman#Ler!Virgil#Lee!Logan#Lee!Patton#brief Lee!Roman & Ler!Virgil/Patton#Teases#Teasy cute nicknames#playful tickles#Sanders Sides tickles#Happy stimming#Sanders Sides tickling#tickle fic#Logan playing is inspirated in one friend of mine who is adorable until he starts to play then he becomes a fucking thing#out of a fucking horror movie#If he got too much close of me I would scream and I'm not kidding. He was terrifying and he loved this xD#Ohhh so that is how writing a self indulgent fic feels like-#My first plan was to make a LAMP series with all their birthdays but life said 'no' and then I just worked with what I had and#being pretty honest??? I am so so so much proud of it.#Especially looking at my first tickle fic ever which I wrote around this same time last year#Btw when I used to play this at school light tickles and teases were allowed xDDD#EXTREMELY RARE but allowed xDD#Self care is writing ur self idulgent fic while listenning your fav nostalgic playlist
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One Way Ticket
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader (ft. Yeontan bc Family)
Genre: Flufffff, established relationship, long distance relationship (not for long), and like, slight angst at the beginning if you squint your eyes and do a backflip
Word Count: 4k
Summary: Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.
A/N: Hellooo, well, obviously this is for my man’s birthday 🥳💝 This story takes place in my Red Flags series’ timeline since one of you requested it and I thought it would be really cute, but you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on here. I hope you guys enjoy! please let me know your thoughts~
“You were supposed to be here today” Taehyung reminded you, unconsciously tightening his hold on the phone as his low voice did a good job at letting you know just how upset he was.
You sighed, that alone letting him know you weren’t having a good time with said fact that was just not happening anymore either. “I can’t control the weather, love…”
Now, he knew that. Of course he knew that. But right then, he really fucking wished you did control the weather. That way you wouldn’t be stuck in another continent still due to a snowstorm that had delayed, if not cancelled, all flights that week — a stupid snowstorm that was keeping you away from him for longer than you should have.
It was a joke. It had got to be a joke.
That was what Taehyung kept telling himself throughout the whole phone call, and continuing to believe —to wanting to believe— so even after you hung up.
You were supposed to arrive that night. That had been the plan all along. All his schedule he had rearranged so he could make sure that particular night he would spend with you. Just you and him. Since the very next day, also known as his birthday, he would have to go to rehearsal for BTS’ presentation on the 31th like every other year, he was looking forward the most to this night. He had it all planned out. Your flight would arrive at 8pm, he would pick you up and then the two of you would have dinner together back at your —now— shared place. You would wait up until midnight, have some cake afterwards, and then stay up late so you could, well, catch up on a few coupley things you had been missing out on for a good while now. After all, you had not seen each other in nearly five months.
It was funny, how he used to always say he would never be able to do long distance relationships when he was younger, yet here he was now, four years —and going strong— into one. It was hard as hell, he could not deny it, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way, not as long as he got to be with you in the end. And at the end of the day it was all worth it, for you had finally graduated uni back home, managed to find a job in Seoul, and were now moving in with him like the two of you had agreed on a long time ago, once you realised you were most definitely sticking together for as long as your lives allowed you to. So, even if he had to wait a little longer to see you, this time it was different, for you had only gotten a one way ticket, and he would never again have to drop you off at the airport and cling on to you like his life depended on it, somehow being harder for him to let go of you as the years went by.
Nevertheless, it sucked. Right then, it really fucking sucked. Five months had gone by without seeing you already and turns out he would now have to wait one or even two more days than planned? Bullshit. And that if he was being optimistic, because he swore to God he would lose his shit if you had to spend New Years Eve on a plane, alone. Not like you were spending it together to begin with either, since he had that thing to attend to, but you would at least have a good time with some of the friends you had made during the time you had stayed in Seoul for your uni’s exchange program, and who had now invited you over to a party you had oh-so-excitedly told him about.
That night, Taehyung went to bed late. Still wanting to believe with everything in him you were just pulling a prank on him like you loved to do every now and then, and that you would walk through the front door anytime with that tired face of yours after the long ass flights to Korea he was so used to by then — the same exhausted face that would light up as a bright smile took over your factions instead at the sight of him.
However, that night, you did not make it home. What you did make it to instead, was to be the first one to congratulate him on his day. Over the phone, yes, with the airport’s background noise and not in person like he had wanted to, yet there you were being once again the first one to do so, at exactly 00:00. And somehow, that alone was enough to make him happy before going to sleep. Not as happy as he would’ve been with getting to sleep with you in his arms, of course, but happy nevertheless.
He did not lose faith, though. The next morning, as he got ready to head out to rehearsal, he kept glancing at his apartment’s door over and over, still waiting for it to burst open anytime and for you to walk inside right after.
When that didn’t happen, he looked forward to the moment his members brought him his birthday cake as they waited in the dressing rooms for their turn to rehearse. Now, the guys hadn’t told him they were bringing him cake, but after all these years it was pretty much a given. And it would only make sense that you were there, right? Whether it was bringing the cake to him as everyone in the room sang the traditional birthday song to him, or showing up as a surprise right after.
Once that didn’t happen either, he couldn’t hide his disappointment anymore — still being grateful to everyone else for trying to make his special day a memorable one, yet not being able to fully enjoy it without you there. Even falling in the cliché of wishing for you to be there as he blew out the candles. That was truly all he wanted, after all.
And once his schedule for the day was finally cleared up, his last hope was walking into the apartment that night and seeing you already there waiting for him.
Again, that didn’t happen.
Biting the inside of his cheek as he walked into an empty apartment, although Yeontan was there to excitedly welcome him back home and had managed to bring a weak smile to his face, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes well up with tears. Telling himself over and over how stupid it was to be upset over something neither of you could control, he contemplated calling you for a few seconds, shaking that thought off with a tilt of his head and deciding to go take a hot shower instead. No matter how bad he wanted to, if he did call you, he knew for sure he would end up being even more upset than he already was, and then you would end up being upset as well, and that he did not want.
Not even bothering on drying his hair later that night, he changed into his pyjamas and called Tan to go keep him some company like it was usual by then. Watching the fluffy dog make himself comfortable on the mattress, Taehyung turned the lights off so he could get into bed for once and for all — wanting nothing but to sleep that day off so you would hopefully be there by the morning. Although it would no longer be his birthday, he wished he could at least get to spend some time together before he had to head out once again.
Before he could completely doze off, however, he felt Yeontan snap up from his sleep and effusively wave his tail from side to side as he ran to the closed door of the bedroom. Letting out a tired groan, Taehyung glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, staring at the number ten on it for a second before he turned the lamp on and fixed his eyes on his excited pup.
“I already fed you,” his voice came out hoarse at the lack of speaking, catching Tan’s attention for a second there before he was back at barking at the door. “Don’t tell me you want to go to the b—”
That’s when the sound of a key making it inside the front door’s lock caught his attention. And, you see, only two people had a key to the apartment. One was his, of course, and the other one, much to his excitement right then, was yours.
Not even having time to catch his breath, he jumped off the bed and opened the bedroom’s door, watching Yeontan sprint down the already illuminated hallway as you had just turned its lights on — a huge smile parting his lips at the sight of you, not being able to hold back a giggle of his at the way you had panicked and closed the door harder than you had intended to, so Tan wouldn’t be able to run out of the apartment.
“Tan-ie bean!” you excitedly greeted the pup first thing as he reached your side.
Struggling to move past your suitcase, you managed to kneel down to pet the cute ball off fluff with one hand as you held the other one as far up as you could, holding a strawberry cupcake with a single candle on it that you had already lit up right before coming in — maybe not your brightest of ideas.
Staring up at your boyfriend, who was still on the other end of the hallway, you smiled brightly and stood up straight as he came closer. “Happ—”
Before you could even finish what you had initially planned to sing and had by then settled for cheerfully chanting instead, Taehyung had already pulled you into his arms — unintentionally blowing out the candle as he had rushed over to you way faster than he’d like to admit.
“I missed you” he mumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your figure and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt his heart at ease.
You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms around him as well —being careful enough not to stain his designer pyjamas with the cupcake’s icing— and pressing down a small kiss to his shoulder.
“I missed you, too” you cooed, hearing him giggle when you planted a kiss on his neck this time.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting on a plane already?”
“Because I thought I would get here before you came back from rehearsal and I’d surprise you. You know, wait for you with dinner and whatnot…” you pouted. “But then of course I had trouble with my luggage and got here way too late. So I got you a cupcake and a candle instead!”
Taehyung giggled at the way you had ever so cheerfully said that last part, pulling slightly away from your body so he could glance at the cupcake in your hand you had just raised up in a victorious way.
“You could’ve just showed up barehanded, said ‘happy birthday’, and I would’ve been the happiest”.
“You interrupted me when I was about to tell you ‘happy birthday’, though” you huffed over dramatically.
Letting out a light laugh, he securely cupped your face in his warm hands and rested his forehead on yours, smiling blissfully as ever at how close he was able to have you right then, at how he was able to feel your warmness in his hands after all those months. “You can say it again now”.
“But you already blew out the candle” you pouted, bringing the treat closer to him so he could see your point.
“I guess this is the moment my wish comes true then”.
“You didn’t even get to make a wish, you idiot” you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, I did” he nodded his head determinedly. “Earlier today. And not to brag about it, but it already became true”.
“Was it perhaps for me to arrive today?” you coyly batted your eyelashes, earning a very visible roll of eyes from him.
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step back from him and his hold. “I can always go back home and send your actual wish ov—”
“Yah,” he stopped you as you dramatically turned around to pretend to leave and Yeontan followed right after, pulling you back to him by your wrist. “I didn’t spend pretty much my entire birthday wishing for you to get here so you can leave me just like that” his eyes turned softer, yet still held that playful vibe in them. “Besides,” he pulled you closer, this time by your waist. “Funny how you said ‘go back home’ when this is your home now, baby” your heart skipped a beat at his remark, appreciating the way he looked up and puckered his lips as he pretended to fall deep in thought. “Hm… Maybe I misheard”.
You giggled at the way he had copied your overdramatic ways, bringing your free hand up to sweetly caress his cheek. “My bad, love”.
Taehyung smiled, with that boxy smile you fell in love with years ago, and nodded softly to let you know it was alright. “Can I get my birthday kiss now?” he murmured, ever so faintly brushing his longing lips against yours. “I’m kinda dying over here”.
Shaking your head in amusement as you laughed, you bit your lower lip. “Just kiss me already, you dork”.
So he did, not even dreaming of wasting another second before his lips hungrily crashed against yours. He had missed you like crazy, he always did, but right then, as your soft lips were pressing on his and your hand made its way from his cheek to the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his still damp hair, he realised just how bad he had craved your touch, how bad he had craved you.
Having him deepen the kiss, you couldn’t help but take one step back as you had lost your balance — his hand being quick to bring your body right back to press against his, later resting on your lower back to keep you steady as his other hand firmly cupped your cheek.
“Happy birthday” you mumbled against his mouth when you had pulled away to catch your breath, feeling the corners of his lips curve up before he pressed them to yours once more.
“It is now” he hummed, drawing tender circles with his thumb on your chin and not being able to hold back a giggle when it was you the one to steal a kiss from his mouth right then.
Your breath hitched when you felt his hands made their way down your body, letting out a squeal when they grabbed your thighs and picked you up without a warning — your arms wrapping tightly around his neck and legs around his waist as his hands were firmly placed on your ass to keep you from slipping down while he walked the two of you out of the hallway and into the living room, having Yeontan run past you two and go lie on the couch.
“Yah, I just got here and you’re already going for second base?” you teased him with raised eyebrows.
Taehyung shook his head, cockily raising one of his own. “I’ve earned my right to all bases a long time ago, I don’t know what you’re talking about”.
“Don’t get too cocky, Kim Taehyung” you warned him as he sat you down on the edge of the counter, being careful enough not to knock down one of the pictures of the two of you that were neatly displaying on it. “I might revoke all your rights”.
“You wouldn’t” he daringly squinted his eyes. “Not on my birthday”.
You threw your head back, letting out a loud laugh and placing the cupcake down on the counter before you went back to his eye level. “Only under two hours until it’s over, so...”
“You wouldn’t” he repeated confidently.
“What makes you so sure, old man?”
Shaking his head in amusement and deciding not to comment on the taunting name you had just called him, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk that was curving up the corners of his lips as he leaned in. “I just know”.
Not even trying to play it hard anymore, you met his lips in the middle, humming contentedly when he placed his hand behind your neck so he could take control over the kiss he was not quite willing to let go of yet. And neither were you, which is why your eyes remained closed and your lips slightly puckered up —clearly wanting more— when he suddenly pulled away one minute later.
“Okay, now tell me my birthday present!” he demanded.
Still being too stunned by the intoxicating kiss he had just given you, it took you a second to open your eyes after hearing his muffled yet excited words against your lips — eyes locking with his excited ones as his hands unconsciously rested on your thighs.
“Oh, it’s in my bag!” you jumped up once you managed to understand what he had meant. “Let me go get it”.
Although your words were meant for him to move aside so you could get up on your feet and rush over to the forgotten suitcase on the hallway, Taehyung did not move an inch — if anything, tightening the hold of his hands on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere.
“Not that one”.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “The cupcake?” you offered, earning a light laugh from him, along with a small shake of his head. “Sex? Because I know I was just threatening with revoking that right, but since it’s still your birthday, I mean...”
Taehyung laughed wholeheartedly, once again shaking his head no as he brought his face closer to yours. “Although I would love that and will take you up on that offer later,” his bold words managed to bring some heat to your cheeks. “That is not what I meant”.
“What did you mean then?”
“Just want you to tell me something...” he hinted, gently caressing your sides. “How long will you be staying, baby?”
You rolled your eyes when it finally hit you what he had meant all along. And you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at how such simple things were the ones that made him the happiest. “Well, considering I only got a one way ticket over here this time,” your heart sped up at the way his smile grew wider at the sound of that. “And that the rest of my stuff will arrive here in a few days… I’d say I’m staying for quite a long, long time”.
“How about forever?” he smiled brightly.
You giggled, tilting your head up in anticipation as you felt him lean in to press his mouth on yours. “I like the sound of that”.
“I love the sound of that” he agreed, pressing another kiss to your smiling lips.
And you truly did, for although you were leaving everything behind, your family, your childhood friends, your culture... it was easy as long as you had him. And even though you knew there would be times homesickness would hit you like a truck, especially when the time came and Taehyung would have to go on tour with his group, you were ready to start your new life here with him. You had already lived here once for a year, after all, the only difference being you now got to live with your long term boyfriend, and, of course, that you wouldn’t have to count down the days until you had to go back home and away from him anymore.
“Everything alright?” he wondered, catching up on the way you had momentarily spaced out.
“Mhm…” you were quick to reassure him with an eager nod of your head. “Now eat your birthday treat before I do” you threatened, grabbing the cupcake that had been lying next to you all along and bringing it up to his face.
Taehyung chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck that was sweetly followed by another one. “But I have my birthday treat right here…”
Although flustered by both his words and the way his lips kept peppering soft kisses all over the sensitive skin of your neck, you stood your ground. “Pretty sure I’m your girlfriend, but oh well”.
He chuckled once more — before you could react, dipping one of his long fingers on the icing and spreading a good amount of it on your lips. “Now you’re both”.
You didn’t really get to fully laugh at his playful antics before the sound of it was muffled by his mouth sucking on your bottom lip, his fingers holding onto your chin to keep you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss — making sure to remove every last trace of icing on your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.
Breaking the kiss for a brief second for what he thought was to catch your breath before bringing your already swollen lips back to his awaiting ones, he found himself letting his jaw drop when you opened your mouth not to kiss him once more, but to bring the infamous cupcake up to it and loudly bite down on it.
“Yah, that is my strawberry cupcake!” he called you out — although trying to act mad, having a hard time hiding his smile at the way you had just covered your full mouth as you laughed whilst trying to chew right then.
“You weren’t eating it, so…” you shrugged.
Before you could take another bite, however, he grabbed your wrist, quickly moving it up to his mouth instead and shoving the entire baked good into it in just one go.
Petrified after what just happened, you stared at your now empty hand — amazed by the way he had managed not to bite into your fingers with how fast and forceful his mouth had been, before your eyes fixed on your full-mouthed boyfriend as he struggled to chew the whole thing down.
“Mine” he stated, not minding to cover his mouth as he was almost done with it already.
“I tend to forget how big your mouth actually is” you admitted, mindlessly sucking the remains of icing from off your fingers.
Taehyung scoffed, rushing to swallow down so he could properly speak. “You out of all people should know what my mouth can d—”
“You know,” you cut him off before he could pronounce that last letter and bring his cocky point across. “Booking a return plane ticket sounds really tempting right now”.
“Oh, yeah?” he tauntingly raised one of his eyebrows, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “Good thing from now on those return tickets will bring you right back to Seoul”.
That was what made him the happiest. After all those years of buying ticket after ticket, all those years of having to drop you off at the airport so you could go back home, all those years of having to wait for endless months just so you could see each other for a few days, all of that, was over now.
From that night on, this was your home. You, him and Yeontan, and of course, the eventual additions that would be made in a couple of years.
And that was the best part. No matter where you travelled to from now on, you would always just go visit abroad and return right here, back to him — never again being almost about to miss his birthday, for you would both go to sleep and wake up right next to him during all the upcoming ones, just like he had ached you to do every single day ever since you got together four years ago.
#bts#bts imagines#taehyung imagines#kim taehyung#bts fluff#taehyung fluff#kpop#kpop fanfic#bts fanfic#taehyung fanfic#bts scenarios#taehyung scenarios#bts reactions#taehyung reactions#bts x reader#kim taehyung x reader#bts taehyung#taehyung#bts imagine#taehyung imagine
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Chapter 15: Grand Gesture
Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.
CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.
Summer 2017
“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”
She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”
She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.
She hoped.
While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”
“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.
But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.
Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.
He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”
The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.
Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”
“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.
She had one chance.
“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”
---
Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.
But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.
And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.
“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”
(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)
“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”
Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”
Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”
Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”
And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.
“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”
“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”
“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?
“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”
He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.
After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”
The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”
(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)
“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”
He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.
He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.
He didn’t think she remembered any of this.
But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.
In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).
‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’
“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”
Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”
He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”
Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.
“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”
She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.
“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.
“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”
Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.
“I trust you.”
David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.
He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.
It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.
He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”
She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”
“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.
She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.
Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”
“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.
Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.
There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.
This was worth remembering.
---
Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.
Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”
“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”
“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.
Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.
There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.
But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”
A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”
David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.
“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”
“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”
A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”
His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.
“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.
But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.
His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”
“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.
“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.
She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.
Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”
The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.
Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.
“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)
He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”
“You’re not mad?”
She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”
Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.
He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”
“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.
“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”
She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.
“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”
“But I did —”
“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.
“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”
Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”
“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”
She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.
“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”
“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”
“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”
Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”
“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”
She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.
But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.
His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”
Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”
He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”
Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”
She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”
David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”
Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”
“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”
“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”
“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”
She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”
His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”
Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.
His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”
Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.
“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”
“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.
She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”
His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”
God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”
He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.
But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.
“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)
“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”
“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”
She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.
He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.
“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”
“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.
So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”
“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”
“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”
“I really don’t.”
“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”
“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”
“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”
He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”
“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”
“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”
“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”
“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”
She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.
“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”
“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”
She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”
“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.
“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”
He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.
“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.
It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.
Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”
“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.
He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”
All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)
But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.
She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.
And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”
She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”
“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”
Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”
He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”
Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”
David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”
“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”
“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”
“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”
Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”
“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”
“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.
(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)
“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”
A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”
It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”
“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”
He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”
She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.
His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.
Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.
“Wanna bet?”
His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.
Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.
She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.
“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”
He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”
He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.
“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”
“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.
“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.
When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.
Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”
“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”
“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”
She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.
He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.
He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —
“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”
Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”
Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --
His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”
Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”
David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”
“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”
“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”
“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”
He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”
When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”
David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”
“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”
“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”
Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”
“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”
She frowned. “Did what?”
“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.
“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”
David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”
He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.
“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.
His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”
When it came to David, she always wanted everything.
“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”
She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —
He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…
Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.
The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”
David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”
She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”
The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.
“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”
“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”
She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”
Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”
“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”
He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)
“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”
“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”
So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”
He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --
Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.
God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.
David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”
Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”
“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”
No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.
“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”
“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.
“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.
His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”
It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.
God, he was perfect.
“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”
“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.
David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”
“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.
“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”
His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”
“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.
She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”
That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.
She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”
He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --
Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.
She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.
���I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”
Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.
David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.
Worth it.
#campcamp#camp camp roosterteeth#gwenvid#cc gwen#cc david#this ending is too awkward to put in the main tags but fuck it#i spent weeks working on this okay#maybe even months#i am exhausted and cannot look at this anymore#hope y'all like your smut interspersed with pages upon pages of talking#because that's what you're getting#the only reason this isn't a total disaster is raenbows and don't anyone forget it#forestwriting
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My Sunflower My Star
Buck Barnes x reader Soulmate AU
(Hello Sunflower Part 2)
Summary: Your soul mark appears on your 18th birthday. What do you do when your father is a part of Hydra and your soul mark binds you to the Winter Soldier.
Warnings: None really, bit of violence, couple of cuss words
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: New Edit 3/18: Mostly minor things but still worth a reread Here is the revised chapter two. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future parts. Also I originally got the idea for this after reading Wolf, Partner Gloves... by @revengingbarnes so check it out!
Flashbacks are in Italics
Series Masterlist
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It was on one of your missions when you had first seen it, the sunflower on his hip. He was changing after taking his shower and in your mind everything clicked. You stared at it mesmerized, you could see the scars littered across its length from where Hydra tried to remove it from his skin. But it was still as vibrant as the mark that graced your hip. You were pulled out of your reverie by an almost imperceptible chuckle coming from the usually stoic soldier.
“Like what you see, doll?” You immediately averted your eyes, fighting to hide the telltale blush that you could feel coloring your cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to stare, I just realized that I had never seen your soul mark before. Do you know who it is?” You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your obvious staring.
“No,” he looked confused, “I don’t believe I do, I can’t remember.” his brow was furrowed as he traced the tattoo. He shook his head, ridding his face of emotion, gone was the man, and the soldier stood in his place.
Laying down with your back to him you let your mind wander. His tattoo was a sunflower, of course, it was, why else would you decide to call him that. Why else would your phrase work? Why else would he recognize you even when he couldn’t actually remember why? The nickname that you gave to him was his tattoo. You let tears fall from your face for the first time since you discovered your own soul mark. You cried for the future that you may never have with him, you cried for the pain he had endured because of your mark on his skin. And when all of your tears had been shed you allowed anger and determination take their place. You would not allow him to lie the rest of his life under the thumb of hydra, you would die before you let that happen. So in that cold hotel, you began to plan, you were going to save the winter soldier even if it killed you.
So, as you fought to pin him on that concrete you hoped against hope that he would remember.
Pinning him, you could see the shift in his eyes as he recognized you. He had spent way too much time with you as the winter soldier to truly forget you. You spoke quickly and quietly to him between breaths. There was a flicker in his eyes as you spoke, spurring you on. His eyes weren’t completely clear showing that he was still in soldier mode, so you did the only thing you could think of, the only thing that you knew would get him moving. You gave him an order.
"Soldier, change in mission, you are to come with me." You saw the flash of confusion on his face, gone as quickly as it arrived and you prayed that he would listen. He nodded and turned to follow you. You sprinted to the nearest car and hopped in. Catching Steve’s eye from the other side of the bridge. You looked at the girl next to him, knowing she would understand, you quickly signed "trust me" to her, she nodded and pulled on Steve's arm, letting him know what you said. He nodded at you before allowing her to pull him with her to follow Nat and escape
You rushed to get the car moving, throwing it into gear before peeling out and driving in the opposite direction as Steve and Natasha. You pressed the gas harder as the sound of sirens reached you, Hydra wouldn’t be far behind. You drove fast, weaving through the cars, noticing the cars following behind you as hydra started to catch up. Then you saw it, the opportunity you needed to escape, a way for them to believe you dead, or at least lost. The river. You looked over at Bucky his eyes were clearer than they were on the bridge. They mirrored the same determination you were feeling. He nodded and you turned the wheel. It felt as if time slowed as you hit the guardrail, the car careening into the murky water below.
You blinked the darkness from your eyes at the impact. The cold water rushing into the car and throwing your brain into high gear. There were gunshots above you, you would have to stay under as long as you possibly could. It was imperative that you made it as far away from the bridge and the hydra agents as you could. Looking over at Bucky you both took a deep breath as the water closed over your heads. Everything felt muted as you escaped the flooded car, you swam, kicking your legs as hard as you could, using the current to drag your farther and farther downriver.
You burst out of the water coughing and gasping when you couldn’t hold your breath any longer. You scanned the water, looking for any sign of Bucky that you could find, You started to panic when you couldn’t see him. Shit, what if he didn’t make it, what if he got out earlier than you, what if something happened? Your swirling thoughts were interrupted by a head of dark brown hair bursting out of the river downstream from you. Gasping for air just as you had a few moments ago, your heart squeezed in your chest, tension leaving you at seeing him alive. You swam over to him, making your way to the bank of the river. Only exiting the river when you found an area that would mask your exit from anyone that came looking.
You grabbed Bucky’s arm pulling him after you. Running towards the buildings lining the river, finding an alley to duck into you took a moment to assess your surroundings. You had a mental map in your mind of DC, thanks to all of your time on missions here. You took a second to figure out where you were in relation to your safe house. Bucky remaining blessedly quiet, letting you take the lead, scanning the area for any threats. You finally figured out the best way to get to your safe house without getting caught, mostly ducking through alleys and deserted side streets. It had been dark for a couple of hours by the time you arrived at the door of the nondescript brick building you had chosen.
You were shivering from head to toe as you walked around to the fire escape, using a hidden pole to pull the ladder from its place above your heads. You started up the ladder, waiting for Bucky when you reached the first landing. When he was safely beside you, you pulled the ladder back up so that you couldn’t be followed. You climbed to the middle floor of the building, you had set up traps on the floors above and below making it the safest place in the building. You pulled a brick out from near the window, taking the key you hid inside to open the locked window. You slipped through the small opening, pausing to listen for any hints that someone else was in the room. When you were mostly confident that it was just you, you pulled your gun from its holster and turned on one of the gas lamps.
You didn’t have to worry about anyone looking in since you had blackout curtains over each of the windows; the cameras that you had placed around the building gave you ample view of anyone that walked by. You walked through each room of the empty apartment checking every nook and cranny before holstering your pistol. Turning on a couple more lights and the heater, you walked back into the main living area. You smiled at the sight of Bucky standing in the middle of the room looking like a lost puppy, something that you would have never attributed to him before that moment. For the first time in months, you were able to relax. You motioned for him to sit at the table, walking towards the kitchen to make some dinner. You hadn’t eaten all day and you knew that Bucky was probably in the same boat.
“Any requests for food?” you asked, glancing at the soldier. He was sitting in the chair as straight as a rod, muscles tense in case he needed to defend himself. You hated how Hydra had ruined his ability to feel safe. He moved his gaze from scanning the room to staring at your face. You waited patiently for him to answer, knowing that he wasn’t used to being asked for an opinion.
“Umm, I don’t really know what foods I like, so anything is fine.” He finally said, looking self-conscious. You tread over to him, taking care to appear harmless, noticing the small tensing of his shoulders every step you took towards him. You held your hands out in surrender, kneeling in front of him to make your presence less threatening.
“I swear to you, you will never have any reason to fear me. I am here to help, and I could never hurt you. You are safe here, Hydra won’t find you here and if they do I will have your back until they are dead or I am.” you spoke softly but he could hear the conviction in your voice, and for some reason it made him trust you. He felt like he knew you and he was trying to figure out why. He nodded to you and you headed back to the stove, making a simple meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup. You placed the food in front of him and sat on the other side of the table, relaxing at the warmth of the food and the knowledge that at least for tonight you and Bucky were safe.
You discretely studied the man across from you. Taking a moment to look at your soulmate. A peaceful moment where you weren't being forced to fight him or stuck on a mission where you felt conflicted by the actions you were forced to commit. You just got to see him. You could tell that his hair was longer than the last time you saw him. The black that they had placed around his eyes was running down his cheeks from the river water. He was as buff as you had ever seen him and his metal arm was the same as always with the red star on his shoulder. But it was his eyes that captured your attention. Those piercing blue eyes were looking at you with confusion and just a hint of hope as he silently ate his food. His eyes were so much more expressive and so very different than when he was brainwashed. You gave him a small smile when you noticed his gaze. After you both finished stuffing your faces you set down your fork, took a deep breath, and spoke.
"Alright," you paused, worried that you were about to regret the words coming out of your mouth, "ask me anything" He took a second, you swore you could see the gears turning in his head.
"The man on the bridge, he knew me?" He spoke slowly as if tasting the words as they crossed his tongue. You gave him a small smile, and nodded,
"Yes, he knew you, very well actually,” you took a deep breath and started playing with your fingers, “his name is Steve Rogers and you grew up together. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but your friends call you Bucky." He studied you intently while you reached around your neck and took off his dog tags, handing them to him, "these are yours, you were in WWII, and in 1943 you fell off a train and were captured by Hydra, you were brainwashed and frozen. They took you in and out of cryo, using you to do their bidding before throwing you back in." He slowly nodded, taking in your words and mulling them over before speaking.
"I don't fully remember what all happened or what all I did but that sounds right." He raised his eyes to look straight at you again, "And you, I know you"
You took a sip of your drink placing it carefully on the table before speaking
"Yes, you know me" you started chewing on your lip as you decided how to proceed. "My father worked for Hydra since before I was born and when I was 10 they started testing on me. My father would take me with him and have me watch as they would put you in and out of cryo. I hated him before but seeing the torture and pain they put you through was what made me decide to find a way to get us both out. Then I turned 18, and everything went to hell. I got my soulmarks and blatantly disobeyed him. He had enough and tried to wipe me, they had done it before when I was younger, but this time they couldn't. I was too stubborn and already had a purpose that superseded anything that they could do. But I let them believe that they had won, that the brainwashing had worked. They had me fight and train with you as well as occasionally go on missions with you, once they believed me under their control." You saw the hint of a smile on his face as he recalled
"You would always say that phrase, the one you said on the bridge." His gaze on you was intense and you couldn’t fight the smile that was threatening to escape,
"Privet, podsolnukh, solntse vzoshlo, i tvoi mechty ispolnilis'. Hello, sunflower the sun is up and your dreaming is done. The sunflower is my favorite flower and so it seemed fitting for you." There was an emotion in his eyes at that moment that you couldn't name.
"You mentioned your soul marks, you have two?" You nodded slowly at his question, "… may I see them?"
You felt as if your heart was stuck in your throat, for the first time since you turned 18 you felt ashamed of the tattoo that masked one of your marks. Unable to say anything you nodded and stood. Lifting the right side of your shirt and pulling the waist of your pants down just enough to see your tattoo. He stared at your hip a moment before looking up at your face,
"I don't understand" he murmured as he looked back down at the night sky inked on your skin.
You took a deep breath and started to explain, "My soul mark is a star, a red star," you pointed to the original star before continuing, "I couldn't let them use it against me so I got a tattoo to disguise it." You could see the question swirling in his eyes and you nodded. It felt electric when he brushed his finger over the star, and you couldn't help the gasp that passed your lips. He smiled, truly smiled, and it was in that moment that you decided you would spend the rest of your life doing whatever you could to see that smile again.
"And the other one?" he asked finally pulling his gaze from your hip. You quietly pulled up the sleeve of your shirt to show him the flowers and the wolf. Understanding crashed over him and he let out a breathy laugh.
"The Howling commandoes, it's referencing the unit that I was apart of with Steve near the end of the war, although I'm sure what the flowers mean."
"I looked them up," you offered, continuing when he nodded to you, "The Marigold is the flower for your birth month, it also means warm and undying love, as well as grief and sorrow. The Daisy stands for new beginnings, baby's breath is for everlasting, unconditional love, and the gladiolus is for strength and integrity." but the time you finished speaking you could see the tears in his eyes as the reality of what fate had placed on you to represent him sank in. He didn't say anything before he stood and lifted the left side of his shirt and you got to see the sunflower that extended from his hip up to his ribs, full of life and color, so different to the soldier that Hydra had made him into. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you looked at him.
"It is nice to officially meet you, my sunflower." You couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped as he said those words.
"It's nice to meet you my star, I have wished for this every day since I first got my marks." You replied. With that, he pulled you into his arms and you decided that this was your favorite place to be.
Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites
#bucky x y/n#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#avengers#marvel imagine#soulmate au#hello sunflower
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Bad: The Unfortunate Ending
Inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella
(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)
A/n: this is my first attempt at angst so here we go...
Disclaimer: not part of my fall writing, this is just a lil something bc I needed to write, it makes me happier after days as today.
Warnings: Cheating, mild profanity, shitty angst & writing. Ransom being an asshole (rip all the soft Ransom stories I’ve written)
Series Masterlist
Never in a thousand years would you have seen yourself sitting in Boston’s most expensive and high end restaurant, a steak simmering at 500 degrees laying out in front of you, and the Ransom Drysdale sweetly smiling at you.
“Wait, before you start eating, I have something to ask you, love.”
Was he gonna break up with you?
Ransom reached over his plate to reach your hand gently bringing it to his lips while maintaining eye contact with your shocked expression, soon calming.
Oh whew.
The man then set down your hand, and folded up the napkin in his lap before rounding the table, getting down on one knee. Your eyes were already welling up with tears, making it impossible to see all the people staring at you and Ransom.
“(y/n) (l/n)...
… … ...
Will you marry me?”
After his adoring speech, the four little words came out and the man on his knee was staring up at you like you were a goddess. Overwhelmed, you happily spewed out the words of acknowledgement while Ransom slipped the lavish diamond onto your ring finger, kissing the now ringed finger before scooping you up from your chair, the two of you in a deep kiss amidst the cheers.
A few months later the two of you got married, and everything was a dream. You had a lovely house, and a husband who was practically your closest friend. The two of you spent all your time together, told every joke, talked all the time. Believe or not but Mr. Fancy Pants had preferred that you got married sooner rather than having an extravagant wedding ceremony.
So that's what you did. One lovely Monday morning, you and Ransom drove to the courthouse, in the beamer, as if it were just any other day.
You thought then and there, that this was it. Life was finally playing in your favor...
All the little gifts you gave
I call it over compensating
Feeling just like a princess
Every answer was always yes
You had me living in a dream
“Oh Ransom!” You played with the little puppy down at your feet, a red ribbon adoring it’s small, yet fluffy neck.The little thing jumped into your arms, causing you to lift off the floor, walking closer to Ransom.
“Why did you get me a puppy, Hugh?”
He just cheekily smiled and shrugged, walking by to kiss your cheek. “No reason!”
You just laughed it off before going outside to play fetch with the energetic fur baby.
Ransom always treated you for no reason, at times you really hated him for it, but not once would he ever let up.
About four months into your marriage, Harlan had invited you and Ransom to some writer’s charity gala, a black and white party, meaning Ransom was gonna rent a tux and you’d find an overly priced yet attractive dress.
So, one Saturday afternoon, you and Ransom went to the mall, getting fitted for your clothes. You weren’t about the name brands like Ransom was, but today, Ransom now had full advantage to shower you in expensive clothing having already picked his tux yesterday. His sneaky little plan to go dress shopping with you.
“What about this one?” Your husband held up a black slip dress designed by Prada. Curiously you walked up to him, checking the tag to see its $1,000 price. In all honesty, from the looks of the dress, you had assumed Ransom picked up a simple dress. Sure, it was pretty but you weren’t about to pay that much just for the name. For what it is worth, you could sew and tailor the damn thing yourself.
“That’s ridiculous, Ransom. I’m not about to pay that much.”
You went to go walk off before you felt Ransom’s hot breath in your ear.
“Who said you were paying?”
Turning around, you playfully pushed him in the chest to which he laughed and peppered kisses all over your face.
“Ransom! Stop, you’re making a scene!”
He pulled away for a minute, your giggles ceasing.
“Let me treat you and I will stop.”
Quickly, the man resumed his attack, your pleas soon becoming words of compliance.
“Fine!”
His signature smirk danced across his lips, while his free arm snaked around your waist ushering you to the tailor’s stand.
What's forever long to you
Did you say that to her too
Making sure that I'd never know
Callin her while the shower goes
It was a little after midnight and Ransom wasn’t home yet, today he had been out with some friends, not inviting you. Your only company for the day was your precious little puppy, who was curled up against your stomach. The endless worry had kept you up all night as you mindlessly stroked the puppy’s back, trying to calm your own nerves.
Eventually, an hour later, the hallway light shone under the door, Ransom coming in. He was met with your worried look and came to rush over to your side.
“You scared me to death, Ransom. Two hours ago, you were supposed to be back!”
“I know. I know. I’m so sorry baby. Now, get some sleep, I love you. Forever, my love.”
Ransom gently pulled the blanket over you, kissing you goodnight, then heading off to shower.
Turning on the shower, Ransom pulled the phone out of his pocket, scrolling to the bottom of his contacts and dialing, Blair❤️.
“Hey baby, today was amazing Ranny!”
A deep chuckle left Ransom’s throat, the woman on the phone giggling.
“I know, angel. You are the best, love ya forever, Sweetheart.”
Blair continued to gush over the phone, recalling the earlier events of the day at her house where Ransom had spent the whole day. (leaving that sentence to the eye of the beholder.)
Shower, and you, long forgotten, Ransom spent the rest of the night talking to the woman, leaving the bedroom to go downstairs, assuming you were already asleep.
Ironically, that night, you dreamt of all the times you and Ransom would stay up just talking and laughing...
Then crawl back in bed, it's a shame
I probably should've known better
I probably should've known better
It was 4 am, and Blair had fallen asleep on the phone, leaving Ransom to bid her goodbye and get some shut eye himself.
It was like sleeping next to a stranger, the warmth of the bed now gone. Coldness, replacing the loving embrace.
About two months ago, your work gave its employees a week off for the holidays. It was once in a blue moon that you got to see your family, so you seized this opportunity. You wished your husband could have come, but Ransom had to stay behind to help Harlan with an upcoming novel. In truth, Ransom never saw himself reverting back to his bad ways, but who knows what entices people to change.
One night, Ransom went out for a drink, a young lady, about twenty-seven years old, came up to the sulking man. He was drowning his sorrows in a couple of beers, wishing he were there with you. Oh how he missed you!
“Hey stranger.”
The sultry voice hit too close to home for Ransom, a voice he knew all too well.
And let’s just say a few drinks later, he came to remember his old fling as Blair.
I wish that you would've treated me bad
The truth is you couldn't have loved me better
Now I'm left feeling twice as sad
I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad
It felt like you were living a hallmark movie, and never would you have thought any different.
Your feet were propped on the Ransom’s lap as the two of you laid down Uno cards on the coffee table.
“Ransom?”
“Yes, darling?”
You set the Uno cards in your lap, adjusting on the couch so that you’d be straddling Ransom. The man brightly smiling at you, enveloping you with his muscular arms. In complete bliss, you leaned forward and kissed him, a slow and intimate kiss. Time completely stopped as you were just in your own little world.
He treated you so well, you’d never be prepared for the heartbreak that’d ensue.
I wasn't catching on to you
Blinded by your lips so smooth
Excusing all of your gotta goes
Leaving me to be all alone
“Do you really have to go, Ransom?”
Your arms were wrapped around the man’s neck, pleading for him to stay. A small frown made a way onto his lips before he leaned in to kiss you deeply, pulling away from your lips while you were still trying to catch up.
“I gotta go.”
With that, he rushed out. A business meeting was it? Or was it Harlan? You couldn’t remember. For the past two months, you’ve been accepting all of his excuses, soon all of them blending, yet in the end you were always left standing in the house, alone with your dog.
It's okay, you told yourself. Sure he forgot your birthday last month. It’s fine.
As long as he didn't forget your wedding anniversary next month, everything would be fine…
Right?
Then you took my heart just the same
I probably should've known better
I probably should've known better
No it wasn’t fine. He forgot your anniversary. He forgot you. In the mornings, he’d no longer stay with you, instead finding an excuse to rush out, no kisses, not even hugs, Rarely did the two of you talk and soon, it became your new normal.
You should’ve known better.
Every word you said you was sweet but you was lying
Everything you covered making up just to keep to me from crying
Another late night, Ransom had gone to help his mother at some dinner party for her business, or so he said. He left early this morning, claiming he was gonna help set up and that he’d be home by 8. Yet, here you are, watching the 11 o’clock news, waiting for your husband’s arrival since he had left you with radio silence all day.
Suddenly, the door flew open, a sloppily dressed Ransom, stumbling in, clearly piss-ass drunk.
“Oh you're awake!”
You walked over to help him sit on the couch, just as you were about to turn off the lamp beside the couch, you noticed a tint of red lipstick on Ransom’s lips. You hadn’t worn any lipstick today, right?
Tenderly, you traced your thumb over his lips, as his eyes gazed into yours.
“Ransom, what’s on your lips?”
In a poor attempt, Ransom went to grab your hand, missing and instead grabbing your shoulder, leaning in to kiss you, instead getting your ear.
“It’s nothing, (y/n).”
His head was laying on your shoulder, as he was about to fall asleep, his energy suddenly gone.
“Really? It seems like something, you have a woman’s lipstick on your lips for god sake!”
Ransom then perked up and hugged you tightly, whispering reassuring words to you. Drunkenly, his words mashed together, causing you to barely understand his “comforting” speech.
“I love you so much, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.”
Sweetheart, a name once reserved for you, now unknowingly shared with another woman.
Believing his lies, because why not? He had never given you a reason not to trust him, not yet anyway.
I wish that you would've treated me bad
The truth is you couldn't have loved me better
Now I'm left feeling twice as sad
I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad
That very next week, Ransom had to leave once again, this time a boys’ trip to the club. You thought nothing of it, now used to his absence, keeping to yourself with the dog and some friends.
Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a sandwich and lemonade out on the front porch when a Maseratti pulled into the driveway, a familiar man stepping out.
“(y/n)! Is Ransom home?”
The man pulled you into an embrace, leaving you confused at his presence.
“Why are you here Oliver? Ransom said he was out with you and James.”
Oliver just shrugged his shoulders, he too jumping to the same conclusion. At this point you were just seeing red, storming into the house, Oliver following. You practically were stomping holes into the hallway for your footsteps were as heavy as your heart. Maybe all along you had been suspicious deep inside, maybe you just never wanted to believe it.
Then finding Ransom’s phone in his nightstand, you came back into the doorway to meet Oliver. If your suspicions were true, you’d like to at least embarrass the dumbass in front of his friend. They all knew he was a playboy at heart, but after you, every one had assumed he’d matured somewhat.
Clearly, they were all wrong.
Your husband was the biggest idiot in the world, making his password your anniversary date, for he was so forgetful. You found this hilarious, because he forgot your first wedding anniversary, god you were so naive.
Was this wrong? Sleuthing through his phone?
Sure. But it could never equal up to what you were about to find.
Opening text messages, 50 unread, all from you, your messages definitely ignored as a woman named Blair was at the top of his messages.
You gagged at the heart by her name, one that used to be by yours. Scrolling through the texts, you found yourself growing angrier by the minute, finally, you just lost it. With great vehemence, you slammed the phone against the floor, making it shatter everywhere, Oliver and your dog, slightly jumping.
It was then that it hit you.
You crashed to the floor, crying hysterically, as the world came crashing down with you. Oliver, crouching down on the floor, trying to calm your sobs.
Tonight you were gonna confront that backstabbing, no good, cheating son of a bitch.
Tell me the truth
Was it worth it was I worth it for you
'Cause we were perfect we working til you
Forgot to tell me you been seeing someone else for six years
It was 9 pm and you hadn’t expected Ransom’s arrival for another hour or two, so you spent the time packing your bags and drinking some coffee, preparing yourself to tear the man a new one.
This time, there wasn’t a slammed door signaling Ransom’s presence, rather soft footsteps and his low voice, like the old days.
Ha, the one time he gets home early. Ehh you were ready anyway
“Hey babe! Oooh can I have some?”
Before you could answer, Ransom took your mug and a few swigs of coffee, handing it back to you, placing a kiss on your head. In utter surprise, you looked up at the man who just smiled down at you.
“You look I haven’t kissed you in weeks, my love.”
And with that he pecked your lips quickly, walking to the counter, you still trying to process what had just happened.
It was true. He hadn’t kissed you in weeks.
No, you weren’t gonna let him win this time.
“It’s because you haven’t.”
Confusion swirled around on Ransom’s face, allowing you to continue.
“You haven’t kissed me in weeks. But you have kissed Blair, I'm sure.”
The coffee mug in his hand dropped onto his foot, shattering, leaving you smirking at the small victory.
Heartbreak can make one go insane. Afterall, you are losing the one person you loved most, losing yourself along with them.
“For months I have put up with your bullshit…”
A good ten minutes passed of you yelling at Ransom, the man unexpectedly letting you finish.
“You’re a cheating, son of a bitch.”
Angrily, you ripped off the wedding ring, now noticing Ransom wasn’t even wearing his, for god knows how long too. Once upon a time, he’d proudly wear it all the time.
“(y/n) wait--”
Ransom grabbed your arm before you slapped him, the man slightly stunned.
“No. I’m tired of your excuses, I’m tired of letting you win. You and Brittany, should have an amazing life together, that is if you can even commit to her like you told me.”
A whisper of defeat left his mouth.
“It’s Blair…”
“The hell with it! You broke my heart Ransom! I knew it was too fucking good to be true. DAMN IT, I LOVED YOU.”
Hysterically laughing, you looked like a mad woman, lowering your voice just a bit.
“You know what makes this hurt 2x worse? I thought you had actually loved me too, because it seemed like it.”
You broke into tears, your heart in a thousand pieces, rushing away to grab your bags, Ransom not even trying to fight, knowing you're too strong this time. He let the best thing that ever happened to him slip away.
Ages ago you could remember the lovely times with the man you once would die for, yet...
Your love was just an illusion.
I wish that you would've treated me bad
The truth is you couldn't have loved me better
Now I'm left feeling twice as sad
I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad
I wish that you would've treated me bad
Truth is you couldn't have loved me better
Now I'm left feeling twice as sad
I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad
a/n: maybe i should stay away from angst bc this sucked.
Updated a/n: this is gonna be a series! If you’d like to be on the taglist lemme know!!
#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale imagine#chris evans#chris evans x reader
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Faking It - Epilogue
Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.
Masterlist
Part 6 | Epilogue
Word-count: 2.3k+
A/N: okay so about a million years ago @corishirogane3 sent me the cutest headcanon for this series and i had to make it canon. i’ve rewritten the ending so much that i’m not sure how i feel about it anymore but!! i wanted to post this sugary sweet ending after my finals so 💕💕 i hope you guys like it
Caliban hated birthdays. His mother would always try her hardest to make each year better than the last, with more outrageous parties in the hopes that he would forget he was a bastard whose father cared more about his reputation than his son. It never worked.
Kinkle: Happy Bday man! You’re still an asshole but I’m glad we’re friends again
As if his childhood confusion wasn’t hard enough, Caliban’s teenage angst almost burned everything to the ground. He was angry at his family for abandoning him and his mother, at the people around him for being conceited and boring, and at California for being too goddamn sunny.
Theo: happy birthday to my gay awakening 💕
Birthdays made Caliban infinitely aware of his precarious loneliness in the world. He’d stopped telling people when his birthday was long ago, but somehow they’d find out and ruin his plans to spend the day alone and screaming at the sky. Year after year, it was just the same hollow wishes from people who didn’t really care about him.
Rosalind ✨: happy birthday old man. i got you a haunted portrait so you don’t wrinkle
But this year was different. Caliban still wasn’t sold on the perfect greeting card birthday, but he’d been less angry since moving back to Greendale. Dating you - real or not - meant he got a group of friends as part of the deal, and the lot of you had extorted his birthday to draw up his astral chart. Apparently, he was an Aries sun, Capricorn moon - whatever the fuck that meant.
Sabrina: Happy Birthday Cal 💞
Still, Caliban could move across the country and collect as many friends as he liked, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever enjoy his birthday.
With a sigh, Caliban threw off his covers and padded across to his closet. He pulled out his usual dark clothes and scrounged around for his leather jacket before realizing he’d loaned it to you. He smiled to himself and set to make himself presentable.
This first hour of his birthday was always spent alone. It was one of the many birthday traditions he and Isobel shared, along with birthday pancakes, ditching the last half of school, and triple chocolate cake with Sour Patch Kids stuck to the icing. He was thankful for all the things his mother did for him, but that first dose of silence and solitude was crucial if he was going to deal with all the birthday bullshit that lay ahead.
Caliban’s phone dinged with yet another notification and he stopped in the middle of the hallway to dig his phone out of his pants pocket. Sure, Caliban talked a big game about hating birthdays but he still checked every text he got, hoping for ... something.
Fitch: Happy non-birthday to the best not fake boyfriend I’ve ever had ❤️ I love you and I’ll see you soon
He always read the texts, but he almost never responded. He leaned against one of the door frames and started typing something in the way of a reply. The only problem was that Caliban was only gifted in the way of words when he was lying, and he never wanted to lie to you. Caliban sighed and locked his phone without sending anything. He’d figure out what to say once his stomach was full of pancakes.
Expecting to come downstairs to the low hum of Isobel singing along to music, the smells of cinnamon, sugar, and melted chocolate, and one very messy kitchen, Caliban was surprised when he reached the bottom stair and heard your voice. Everything else was as expected, but you stood out among all the chaos.
“Is this okay?” you asked quietly.
Isobel stopped her humming for a second. “Oh, yeah! That’s perfect, sweetheart.”
The pancake batter sizzled in the pan and Caliban decided to brave the kitchen. It was still as messy as always, but there you stood, clad in a borrowed, sunflowered apron and brandishing a spatula.
Since you and Isobel were whispering and watching the pancakes rise with your back turned to the entrance, Caliban walked over as quietly as he could and got a better look at the assortment of toppings on the counter. He'd just bitten into one of the strawberries when you turned to grab something off the counter.
You jumped sky-high and Caliban laughed. “Jesus. How long have you been there?” you asked.
“Long enough.” Caliban tried to sound nonchalant, which was difficult to do with all his curiosity. His cool facade was also ruined by Isobel rushing around the island to hug him and kiss his cheeks.
Isobel settled slightly after sitting Caliban down on one of the stools and promising to be right back with his present.
With your new-found solitude, Caliban turned to with an amused smile. “When you said you’d see me soon, I didn’t think you meant quite so soon,” he said. He reached for another strawberry.
You were happy to have caught him off-guard. “That’s kind of the point of a surprise.” You turned back to the stove to keep the pancake from burning but looked over your shoulder to add, “I mean, I can leave if it’s a problem?”
“You would deprive me of your company on my birthday?”
You set a plate in front of Caliban that had a single, oddly shaped chocolate-chip pancake. “I'd never dream of it, Abercrombie.” You took a step back, pulled out a knife and fork, and set it in front of him. “Tell me how it tastes?”
Caliban cut a piece and held his fork out to you.
“No way. That’s your birthday pancake.”
“You would really make me beg on my birthday?”
“You can’t play that card the whole day-”
“Yes, I can. Because it’s my-”
“Don’t say it-”
The word was on the tip of his tongue, but Caliban didn’t get the chance to play his birthday card another time because Isobel rushed back into the room holding a wrapped present and grinning wildly.
Isobel set the present down on the stool next to Caliban and tapped the top. “I know you don’t like opening them in front of anyone, but I couldn’t wait.” She tapped the gift again before reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Happy birthday, my love.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Caliban said in a low voice. Isobel gave him the sad smile she always did on his birthday and he gave her the matching smile he always did.
Your voice broke both of them out of their birthday stupor. “Well, I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late.” You untied the knot behind your back as you spoke before lifting the apron over your head. “I just wanted to stop by to steal a few legendary birthday pancakes and drop off the scavenger hunt stuff.”
“I’m sorry, would you repeat that?” Caliban asked, sounding as saintly as he could.
Isobel laughed. “Your brilliant girlfriend figured out how to give you a special birthday while letting you spend the whole day by yourself.” She wrapped an arm around Caliban’s shoulders and looked over at you. “There are clues and activities all over town and you can only come back once you’ve finished them all.”
As intriguing as a day spent on his own seemed, Caliban couldn’t help but feel like there was a catch coming. “And what about my daily need for education?”
“I thought you were a fan of more alternate education,” you teased. You leaned over and ate another bite of pancake. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft in your old age.”
Caliban gave a short laugh. “I said no such thing.”
You smiled. “Your mom promised to give you the first clue after your first pancake stack. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Caliban nodded, suddenly unsure of how to respond. He was bad at receiving gifts at the best of times, and this gift was personal and bestowed upon him in front of his mother. It was an awkward set of circumstances. “Thank you,” he said softly as he hugged you goodbye.
“Of course.” You kissed his cheek and disappeared out of the kitchen after waving goodbye to Isobel.
Once you were gone and Caliban was left with the familiar sounds and smells of the morning of his birthday, he began to think that maybe his opinion on birthdays needed a bit of changing.
---
Though he’d only participated in a few scavenger hunts, Caliban was competitive and he was relentless. He tore through clue after clue in the same ravenous fashion that a pack of wolves would their next meal, though he tried to savor it as best his hunger would allow. Every handwritten clue was kept, every souvenir pocketed, and every moment memorized. He didn’t want to waste the most thoughtful gift he’d ever been given just because he was an impatient bastard.
But, as he stared at his suspiciously dark house, he wondered if he should have taken it a bit slower. The last clue had hinted at something waiting for him at the house, and his desire to finish the scavenger hunt waged war on his hatred of birthday parties. He was just about to put the car in reverse and dart into the street when your head popped around a curtain. You ducked inside at such a speed when your eyes met his that Caliban laughed at the mental image of you crashing into a lamp and trying to play it off.
In the end, neither his desire nor hatred lured him into the depths of his birthday party. His bizarre inclination to do anything and everything you wanted drew him in.
So, Caliban showed up at his party. He wore a party hat, played nice with the other kids, and blew out the candles on his cake. All in all, it should have been the perfect end to his perfect day. But even with all your careful planning, there was no accounting for the bullshit hole in Caliban’s chest that always left him feeling empty.
When the hole in his chest got too big, Caliban sneaked up the stairs, ducked into his room, and slipped out the window. He wasn’t running away - though the thought did cross his mind - but he just needed some fresh air. Harvey’s laughter mingled with that of his other friends and the laugh tracks of bad movies, drifting through the open window to the warmth of the April night. Still, there wasn’t enough fresh air in the world to fix him.
“Hey!”
Caliban twisted around to see you popping your head out of his bedroom window. You had a silly grin on your face and your hair was falling all over your face. The hole in Caliban’s chest got a little smaller. Your smile softened as you tilted your head to mirror his.
“Hey, you wanna get out of here?”
“Aren’t you worried about missing the party?” Caliban asked.
You shrugged. “Roz and Theo ate all the good snacks so it’s pretty lame anyway.” Caliban laughed and you flashed him another smile. “Come on, Abercrombie, you really gonna make me climb on the roof to come get you?”
Caliban let out a long whistle and adjusted to get a better look at you. “I’d like to see you try, but careful - it’s slippery out here.”
“Stop being an asshole and let’s get out of here before someone notices we’re gone.”
Grinning, Caliban rolled over and held a hand out to you. There was no need to be so secretive, really, but sneaking down his mother’s carefully cultivated trellis was half the fun. Caliban squashed some hydrangeas on the way down, you tumbled into him after getting your foot stuck, and the two of you were left breathless for a moment before rushing to the car so no one would discover your attempted prison break.
Giddy as you turned onto the freeway, the two of you laughed with the windows down and music blaring. Caliban didn’t think his birthday could get any better than it already was, but that moment with you was his favorite part. Or at least, it was until you started complaining about wasting away and you pulled into a diner for something to eat - then he found a new favorite moment.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know what.” You tilted your head. “Is this because of the fry thing? I’m telling you, if you just try it then you’ll like it.”
Caliban laughed and shook his head at ‘the fry thing,’ also known as your insistence to dip your fries in whatever milkshake you had on the day. “I’m not trying it.”
“You’re a coward.”
“You can’t say that to me. It’s my birthday.”
“You hate birthdays.”
“Still.”
Rolling your eyes, you pushed the plate of fries over to him. “Try it once, okay? And you’ll see it’s the perfect combination of salty and sweet, hot and cold, yummy and delicious.”
Caliban couldn’t help it. He’d been putting it off for almost a year now, and it just didn’t feel right to say no to you after everything you’d done for him today. Plus, you were cute when you got your way. So, he reached out and dipped a fry in the milkshake.
Annoyingly, it was everything you’d said and more. Despite the sugary, fried high he was bound to be on in a few minutes, Caliban knew the best part of this whole endeavor would be to see your sickeningly smug face when he admitted defeat.
You’d turned him into a cheesy cliche. He was disgustingly romantic, he carried your books between classes, and had your coffee order memorized. Because you were the sweet to his salty, the brave to his reckless, the Fitch to his Abercrombie.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @caliban-is-my-girl @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @luquincy @marina468 @olivia-west-allen @drrramaaaqweeen @roxytheimmortal @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito
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birthday.
back to you [series masterlist]
previous part · next part
pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader
warnings: smut (18+), delicious tooth-rotting fluff
word count: 3.4k
a/n: thank you guys so much for being patient, I know this took way too long. if you saw my posts you know I was dealing with some medical stuff and ended up in the hospital for a few days, but I’m better and back at work. And thank you to everyone for your kind words <3 anyways here’s some soft af smut, I hope it makes you feel feelings.
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It had been the longest three and a half weeks of your life.
Ever since you found out he had threatened to expose your relationship, it was like you saw Hux everywhere. You had never really seen him around campus before, but now he seemed to be around every corner or in every coffee line and you could swear he was watching you.
You had shed a few tears when you got back to your apartment, your roommates immediately sitting you down and listening to the entire story. You were still in shock that someone could be so selfish to use something so personal to someone as a weapon. Hux was a professor that neither you nor your roommates had had, but he was known as a decent teacher around the school.
Though decent teacher and decent human being were clearly two different things.
The collection of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts had slowly started to build since the beginning of March but there was one particular sweatshirt of his that was incredibly soft from being washed so many times that you loved. He always teased you about it because it was also his favorite. So you were surprised to find that sweatshirt plus a ratty well-loved t-shirt that featured a band you’d never heard of before in your bag when you got home, tears welling in your eyes at the touching gesture.
Class was painful. Twice a week you were able to actually see Poe, but you had to stop yourself from staring at him like you were completely infatuated when there were other people around. Conversations with him were class-related and boring, not exactly the pillow talk you’d grown to love. It rubbed the whole situation the two of you were in right in your face.
The closest you got to touching him was when he handed you back a first draft of a long essay he had assigned. Your fingers accidentally brushed against his as you took your paper from him and you didn’t get the chance to react because Kaydel leaned over and asked how your paper was looking. You flipped through the pages and were reading through some of the comments he made when you saw two tiny blue post it notes on the fourth page, one with an ‘I miss you’ and the other with a ‘you look beautiful today’ and a drawing of the heart eyes smiley face. You bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely, but you were swooning inside.
Being told you couldn’t have what you wanted sucked.
You woke the morning of your birthday with your two roommates bursting into your room blasting Taylor Swift’s “22” and holding your favorite scone and mixed coffee drink from your favorite local café. They had surprises lined up for you that night, starting at seven when you were all done with classes. When they left your room, you laid back in bed and willed the motivation to get ready for class to come to you. Your phone dinged beside you and a smile immediately formed on your face when you saw it was from Poe.
At least you were still able to text him and call him and FaceTime him.
You opened the message he sent, seeing an audio message instead of a text. The sound of his guitar filled your ears and the strings plucked the familiar tune of “Happy Birthday”, his voice soft enough to send you back to sleep.
“I miss you, baby,” he said as finished playing “Happy birthday.”
You wanted to text him ‘I love you’ right then and there, but you didn’t. It kind of scared you how strongly you felt about him after only being with him for a few months and the last thing you wanted to do was make this separation permanent. So you stayed quiet, saying it in your head as you drifted off to sleep each night.
You hated when your birthdays landed on weekdays. There was something so much more fun about making a day out of your birthday than spending over half the day stuck in class. You paid very little attention, going through multiple happy birthday texts and social media posts from friends and family, and of course texting Poe when he was in between classes.
Your roommates treated you to dinner at a local bistro, a place you had all been eyeing on going since you were freshmen. It was a little more upscale, so you promised yourself you’d make time for it before you graduated. Jessika had left before you and Karé to stop by work, a scheduling issue that she said would take ten minutes to fix turned into twenty and made her late for dinner. The service at the bistro was surprisingly quick for a Friday night and she had to order after you and Karé already placed yours.
Dinner turned into wanting to grab drinks at Maz’s, the special birthday drink famously known throughout campus. On the way to the bar you got on the phone with your mom and sister, confirming the plan to drive home the next day to celebrate your birthday with them. You were so wrapped up in the conversation of what your mother was going to make for your birthday dinner that you didn’t even notice you weren’t at the bar until the car had stopped and you hung up the phone.
“Wait, what are we doing back at the apartment?”
Jessika leaned forward onto the console and looked at you. “Will you run in and get my card?”
“What? No.”
“Please.”
“Why me?”
“Because you used it last.”
“Um…no I didn’t.”
“Yes you did, last week when we ordered pizza.”
“I gave it back to you.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes I did.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Oh my god, will someone just go get the card?” Karé said exasperatedly.
“Y/N, go.”
You look back at Jessika and narrow your eyes.
“You’ve been missing your card for a week and you just noticed it was missing?”
“No time for judgment, just go find it please. I think it’s in the kitchen.”
You rolled your eyes and opened the car door, slamming it on Jessika’s “thank you”. You rushed inside, your phone buzzing with Jessika’s name flashing across your screen.
“I swear to god Jessika, if you tell me you just found your card in your wallet—“
“I didn’t, I just remembered a few other places you could check in case it’s not where I think it is.”
You took the elevator up to the third floor where your apartment was, Jessika chattering away in your ear. You speed-walked down the hallway, pulling your keys out of your pocket.
“Are you there yet?”
“Calm down, I’m unlocking the door now. Where am I supposed to look for your credit card?”
“Did you take it into your bedroom at all?”
“No.”
“Then try the kitchen counter first.”
You walked into the apartment, confused as to why it wasn’t pitch black. “One of you left a light on!”
Karé and Jessika both mumbled something incoherent into the phone as you walked towards the kitchen and you suddenly stopped cold in your tracks. Standing in front of you was Poe, his eyes lighting up and a wide smile crossing his face illuminated by the lamp in the living room when he saw you. A single cupcake with a lone candle sat in his hand.
“Happy birthday, Y/N.”
You were speechless, your mouth attempting to form words but failing miserably as your brain wondered if you were hallucinating. Birthday or not, he was the last person you expected to see.
“Surprise!” Jessika and Karé exclaimed into the phone, taking your silence as the sign you had found your surprise. “We got you for the evening so Poe’s got you for the night! We’ve got Beebs and we’re spending the night elsewhere. Have fun, we’ll see you in the morning!”
They hung up on you but you still didn’t move, still too stunned that this was real. Poe chuckled and blew out the candle on the cupcake so wax wouldn’t melt onto it before setting it down. He tilted his head to catch your eye with a smirk on his face.
“Sweetheart?”
You set your phone and keys down on the counter and walked swiftly towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your head in his shoulder. Poe returned your fervent embrace, lifting you off the ground as he hugged you just as tightly as you were hugging him. He pressed a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder and you brought your head around to crash your lips onto his.
Poe’s hand came up to cup the back of your head, strands of your hair slipping between his fingers. You cupped his cheek with one hand, the feeling of his lips finally on yours bringing back the familiar butterflies you’d been missing for weeks.
You pulled away breathless, a laugh of disbelief slipping from your lips as he set you back down on the ground but keeping his arms tight around you.
“How!?”
“Jessika snuck me in here after you left. That’s why she was late for dinner.”
Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a watery laugh. This was, by far, the best birthday present you’d ever gotten. Poe looked at you in concern.
“Hey, are you ok?”
You nodded and gave him a sure smile. “I’m fine. Better now.”
Poe placed his hand on your cheek and brought your lips back to his in a short, sweet kiss. He then reached behind you to the cupcake off the counter, only removing his arm from around you long enough to re-light the candle. You smiled as you blew out the candle, taking a bite of the red velvet cupcake and getting another kiss from Poe to get the frosting off of your lips.
“I got you something.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” Poe said with a soft smile as he reached his hand into his pocket. “I did anyway.”
You set the cupcake down and he placed a tiny drawstring bag into your hand. You opened it and a silver bangle fell into your palm, a small hockey skate charm hanging off of it. You laughed as you ran your thumb across it.
“Now I’ll have daily reminder of how badly I skate,” you laughed, looking up at Poe to see a humorous smile on his face. “I love it, thank you.”
Poe grabbed it from your hand and clasped it around your wrist, the tips of his fingers moving gracefully against your skin and sending goosebumps across your skin. You admired it as you rested your hand against Poe’s chest, his hands settling back onto your waist.
“So, I get you for the night huh?” You asked, your fingers running over the collar of his shirt.
“The whole night. Whatever you want to do.”
“How long do I have you tomorrow?”
“Just until the morning. I’ve got a ton of grading to do you and you’re going to see your mom and sister.”
You sighed. “I could ditch them. Say I have homework or something.”
“I can’t have them hating me before they even meet me.”
You giggled and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Twelve hours isn’t enough time.”
“I know,” Poe said, squeezing your waist and leaning down to kiss your cheek. “We better make the most of the time we have then.”
Placing a hand on his cheek, you brought Poe’s gaze to you. You gave him a small smile before leaning in and placing your lips on his. Your lips moved slowly together, every intention of your desire for him expressed in one simple action. His eyes were dark when you broke the kiss, studying your face as if deciding where he wanted to kiss you next. Stepping out of his embrace, you moved to the living room to turn off the lamp before holding out your hand. He took it, squeezing it gently as you led him to your bedroom.
You undressed each other slowly, taking time to kiss or touch every new piece of skin exposed. Looking down at you with a hand on your lower back, he guided you back to your bed. His eyes were dark but he wasn’t looking at you like a predator hunting its prey; dare you say there was complete adoration sparkling behind his brown eyes.
Poe kissed you once more before moving down your body, kisses being pressed wherever he could reach. His lips moved along the outline of your bra, nimble fingers circling behind you to take it off and throwing it aside. He suckled your breasts, tongue gently flicking against your hardened nubs and making you sigh in complete delight. He gave your breasts equal attention before moving down your stomach, the lightness of his lips tickling your stomach.
Poe’s fingers dipped into the waistband of your underwear and his eyes connecting with yours looking for the ‘okay’. With a sure nod of your head, he tugged them down your legs and tossed them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His fingers curled around the bend of your knee, lips connecting to the spot next to your kneecap and moving upward. His lips ghosted up your thigh, breath hot against you and long eyelashes tickling your skin as his warm breath hit your slick folds. He pressed a kiss against you, a quiet gasp falling from your lips when his tongue ran along you up to your clit. Your hands flew to his hair, a quiet “fuck” mumbled breathlessly and you briefly wondered if it would be selfish of you to ask him to stay between your legs for the rest of the night.
He grabbed one of the hands that was in his hair and brought it down to rest against your lower stomach, fingers tangling together as he held your hips still while he worked his tongue against you. He sucked your clit between his lips, a high-pitched whine escaping you as you squeezed his hand.
“Poe, please…” Your voice was breathy, like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. A light tug on his hair made Poe move back up your body, leaving chaste kisses all over you until he hovered over you, chest pressed against yours and his cock nestled against the juncture of your legs. He brought your hands up next to your head, holding them down with light pressure. You breathed heavily, eyes raking over his face from the shine of your arousal on his lips and the slope of his nose to the crinkle of his eyes. “I need you.”
His dark hooded eyes took you in, the pink tint of your flushed skin and the way your lips were swollen from being consumed by his. He had completely melted you into a puddle. He let go of your hand to line himself up to your entrance, his eyes never leaving your face. You leaned up and brushed your lips over his as his forehead came down to rest against yours. He pushed inside you slowly, a quiet moan coming from your throat as he settled inside you. He held still to let you adjust around him, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face.
“Fuck, I miss you,” he whispered as he started to move, his hips rocking into you with a tenderness you hadn’t experienced with him before. A quiet gasp fell from your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Your arm escaped his grasp above your head to wrap itself around his neck.
Poe brought his lips down to yours, swallowing every noise you made as he kissed you deeply and slowly, the pace of his thrusts deep and deliberate. His hands ran over your body, already familiar with every curve and every place that drove you wild. Poe connected his lips to your neck, gently sucking reminders of your night across your neck and collarbone. He drove his hips into yours, the movements deep and precise and you felt like he could push you straight through the mattress.
If he did, you’d hold him tight and drag him down with you.
You put a hand on his chest and he stilled, looking down at you. You gave him a knowing smile as you pushed against him lightly. He smiled and wrapped his arms around you as started to sit up, sitting back and pulling you into his lap. Your hands rested on the side of his neck as you ground your hips against his, the new angle sending ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Soft moans left your lips as Poe guided you up and down his cock with his hands on your hips, his own sounds against your skin making you shiver. You threw your head back, whispered praises from Poe said against your chest.
He met the movement of your hips, the angle making his cock brush against that spot inside you with each thrust. You clenched around him, the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach beginning to form. Poe kissed up from your chest to your neck, nuzzling his nose against it and letting his teeth gently scrape the outline of your pulse point.
“Baby…” Poe formed the word against your skin, tears pricking your eyes at the affection behind it. “Let go, I’ve got you.”
Neither of you were going to last long but the amount you cared about it was very little. You wanted it to last, but you also craved the way he made you fall apart, and you knew it would be the first of many rounds that night. Poe claimed your mouth for the hundredth time that night, another kiss of many more to come, before kissing back down your neck to your shoulder. You held him close as you fell over the edge, your whole body trembling and the the rush of your orgasm almost making you cry from the flurry of emotions you felt at that moment. Poe grunted into your shoulder, his breath hot against you as he came, stilling his movements and holding your waist tightly as he spilled inside you.
You felt like you ceased to exist, as if you had come together in the throes of pleasure and become one.
Neither of you spoke, both of you too afraid of blurting out your shared secret. So you kissed him. You let your lips say the words you were scared to say, but you felt them. Oh, did you feel them. Poe held you impossibly close, as though he could absorb every part of you and take you back with him. His fingertips ghosted up your spine and you rested your forehead against his, breathing the same air as the euphoric high settled into a dream like haze.
You stayed in that position until you couldn’t, the call of the bed beneath you becoming too great to ignore. Poe laid back, bringing you with so you laid on top of his chest, completely relaxed and moving your head between resting your chin on his chest to look at him and laying your cheek against his beating heart. He stayed inside of you and stroked your hair, neither one of you in any hurry to move.
You were mostly quiet, too busy basking in each others company to have in depth conversations. Any conversations you did have ended in laughter and the swapping of kisses, limbs tangled together as you held each other as close as you could. Once again, you and Poe fought off sleep as long as you could, dreading the coming of daybreak when you’d have to part until the next time you’d be able to see each other…whenever that would be.
But you still had that night and while you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words, you’d show Poe just how much you loved him over and over again.
taglist [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @dameronsgalaxygal @mserynlarsen @yougottakeeponkeepinon @linibirdimagine @goddamndameron @starrykitn @cloud-leader @damnyoudameron @liadamerondjarin @april-14-blog @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x y/n#poe dameron smut#back to you series#modern au#modern poe dameron#poe dameron fanfiction
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Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers (DT17 Season 2 Retrospective): The Most Dangerous Game Night! (Paid for by WeirdKev27)
Welcome all you happy people! As some of you will recall I do a lot of duck based retrospectives on this blog: Ride of the Three Cablleros! which took a look at all the Cabs major American adventures, Shadow Into Light, my Weblena colored look at Lena Sabrewing’s journey from abused teenager to magical protector, and the Della arc which I dind’t give a cool name but covered since Shadow Into Light read right into it’s final chapter and ended up perfectly synching up with the final month of the series. And of course i’m still working my way through the life and times of Scrooge McDuck with a plan to finish the main story in September barring any delays, sickness that sorta thing.
So it shouldn’t be at all a shock that having covered all of season 3 when it came out and covered the two season 1 arcs i’d be taking a look at Season 2′s three story arcs. So I probably would’ve covered them anyway.. but Kev, one of my patreons and the guy who commissioned Shadow Into Light AND Ride of the Three Cablleros, had expressed interest in doing the Glomgold arc from season 2 as it centers around his favorite character, Zan Owlson. He also wanted to do Della’s arc in time for mothers day, and was all too happy to combine both, and politely agreed to my request to do the Louie arc as well. To help soften the blow, I also suggested since he’s a patreon of mine on patreon.com/popculturebuffet he use his second review (You get one guaranteed review a month with 5 and he’s a 10 dollar backer so he gets two, and he’s earmarked marked one for House of Mouse through the end of the year) to help soften the blow a bit, which means some weeks i’ll be doubling up on this one. He agreed and it’s thanks to him that all of this happened so thanks bud. It’s also thanks to him I have money in the first place and I wouldn’t be here without him.
As for why I insisted on the Louie arc it wasn’t out of greed but out of pragmatism. I covered the Della arc purely on my own time, and gladly did so. But back then I also kept making the mistake of shoving retrospectives back again and again and again and that’s why there’s a rather nasty gap in my New X-Men retrospective I think severely harmed it , and a similar one for life and times which wounded it. I don’t mind taking smaller gaps of say a month when needed, but I learned from the experience I can’t just delay things constantly out of convince and expect it to work.
Not only that but the Lena and Della arcs only interact in the very last part. With these arc? While they don’t really touch at first and run parallel much like season 1′s arcs did, they start intersecting heavily as soon as Della gets back. Raiders of the Doomsday Vault! touches on both Della’s recent return and Glomgold’s bet with Scrooge, Happy Birthday Doofus Drake! has the A-Plot centered around Louie’s plot and the B-Plot centered around Della bonding with Huey as part of hers. And the final four is one one long, sustained arc, finishing up all three in the process. So yeah it was a package deal and as such this will be my third largest retrospective at 17 parts including the prologue. (As i’ll also be covering Della’s four issues in the IDW Comic released back in season 1). For the record my largest will be my Tom Lucitor Retrospective as 24 (in part due to doing the eclipsa arc for the same reasons as Dellas), and ride of the three cablleros at 20 is in a close second. This is going to be a long ride that will take most of summer, so buckle up, get your Louie Inc signs, Glomgold’ posters to jump through and black licorice gum ready and join me won’t you under the cut as we start this fantastic adventure together.
We open season 2 with all but one of our heroes proudly posing as they enter a temple. Scrooge even has his treasure of the lost lamp outfit on. Louie.. just looks tired and bored. One of the things I love about these reviews is that I haven’t watched most of the episodes since they first aired. Sure i’ve revisited some of my favorites like Dangerous Chemistry and the 87 Cent Solution, but I haven’t really DONE a full died in wool episode by episode rewatch of the series. I’ve got SO MUCH I haven’t watched, haven’t rewatched and haven’t even started, that I really DON’T have the time for it outside of my job. So it is VERY nice to get a chance to do so once in a while with it.
As such knowing Louie’s real motive this episode it makes this scene hit diffrently. On first airing Ducktales was back after a short hiatus, our heroes are operating at full speed and daringly charting through a temple: Dewey and Webby have become tighter than ever and easily stop a pit trap and Scrooge and Huey easily solve an arrow puzzle. But while at first glance Louie is just fed up because as he puts it later “I’m just loveably lazy”, knowing he’s really just burnt out, scared he’s going to die or worse like he likely thinks his Mom did because he’s not good enough.. it’s really tearjerking. Here’s an 11 year old who at his core feels he doesn’t belong in his family and just wants a friggin break from the dangerous shit they do. It hits even harder as a fan of the venture bros but i’ll save that for later. Point is he’s telling Scrooge he’s burnt out.
So then this happens...
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It really is almost the exact same joke, but diffrent enough since for one, Family Guy’s is driven by the refrenece (And god how I miss how their refrence humor used to have an actual purpose), where as here it’s to set up something else and hints for later: Louie having parsed how most adventures to at this point. While Scrooge is right in pointing out how every adventure is unique.. Louie’s not wrong that there is a small pattern to it: The Whoah! , The “Wait, What?” and the Aggggh!. Scrooge scoffs.. but Louie is proven correct as Dewey Whoas, a mechanisim trggers (Wait what?”) And everyone screams as they run from a giant wheel.
Back at home though it’s even more apparent poor Louie is miserable while his family is just jazzed. I can’t BLAME THEM, but I can’t blame him either for being, tired, worn out and just wanting ONE minute where they aren’t adventuering. There are some nice touches though as Scrooge runs off and finds a map in the idol: We see Duckworth removing the Scrooge as a Prospector painting based on Carl Bark’s painting of him from the foyer and instead replacing it with the painting of Scrooge, Donald and Della. It’s a nice little acknowledgment of how things have changed.. from Scrooge being alone and running from a painful past to having accepted it and gone back to being a family man. We also get Beakley just casually picking up Louie to vacum.
In the Triplet’s room.. which by the way why do they all share one room? In universe I mean, I mean is it saving on the power bill or does scrooge have the other rooms filled. Only four bedrooms are occupied: the boys, webby’s , Beakly’s (Which we never see but implicitly exists), and Scrooge’s himself. While the mansion isn’t LIMITLESS, it has to have more rooms than that. Is the rest just storage?
Out of universe though I do get why and i’ts why I let this concept of sharing a room when you have enough for everyone in the first place slide: it allows the boys to interact more easily outside of adventures by having all three in the same location. This episode is a good example of that as it kicks off Louie’s plan admirably: Louie is burnt out while Huey is excited.. and in another hint of Louie’s true gift he casually notices part of Dewey’s woodchuck uniform he was looking after is undone, simply making a quip about a sewing patch. He gets the idea for a scheme from there: to finally get his break by convincing Huey he’s slipping and exploiting his brother’s tendency for manic episodes.. which as someone with those I highly don’t approve and is far and away one of the more questionable things Louie’s done. And this is in an arc that includes him nearly wiping out all of existence.
Still it gets Huey on board but Scrooge and the wonder twins are a harder sell. Dewey and Webby are so jazzed on frinedship their even speaking in unions
“This Needs to stop!”
“I’ve tried but they really do enjoy harmonizing”
Louie insists the adventuring is driving them apart and making them less close.. and while Scrooge insits it brings them closer together he ends up proving his point when Louie fakes not knowing which triplet is which.. and Scrooge GENUINELY struggles with which one’s Huey and Which ones Dewey. Dewey’s face is at the top of the page.. and utterly and completely priceless.
And while I thought it was the same impressive face from night on Kilmotor hill turns out, nerp their uniquely hilaroius
Same mood though. But I do love this callback: almost a YEAR later, and Scrooge STILL is like...
But while movie night and make your own pizza night, which i’m pleased as punch to find isn’t just something my family does, don’t do anything one thing does... GAME NIGHT. Cue a glorious minute of David Tennant goofily shouting Game Night to everyone in the mansion. Seriously getting him was one of the series masterstrokes. The man has only done a few roles in voicework but damn is he a natural. Not eveyrone can adapt to it this fast. While I love Walton Goggins, it clearly took him a few episodes of invincible to get really comfortable with it. It’s why I have such respect for Voice Actors in general: I’ts not an easy job, it takes a lot of skill, and it can be often thankless. It’s also why i’ve made a concentrated effort ot more know of them by voice simply because they’ve earned that much.
Anyways Beakly pops Louie’s bubble that htis is not going to be relaxing for a very obvious reason: Scrooge is relentless against his enmies and game night makes YOU the enemy. He quickly has them pair off into teams, taking Donald right off the bat.
We also get one of the best jokes in the entire series
“If you loose your out of the will”
“(Genuinely suprised) I was in the will?”
It’s almost entriely in Tony’s delivery there. The surprise is just perfectly delivered. It’s also oddly touching as despite a decade’s estrangement and Donald understandably thinking he wasn’t in it in anymore, Scrooge NEVER removed Donald from it . Sure he’s thretaning it over game night but he clearly takes this ungodly seriously. Duckworth leaves to go do ghost stuff.. which is code for make up a flimsy excuse to run the fuck away. To make matters worse she’s stuck with Launchpad as a partner. Louie is left with Huey and immieditly regrets sending his brother into a panicy spiral as he’s already set up a creepy scheduling board.
So i’m going to go ahead and cover the Webby and Dewey Plot, and the acompanying Donald and Scrooge antics now to save us some time. I’ll come back to it at the climax of Louie’s plot obviously and to the episodes credit the pacing is exceptional, weaving in and out of both plots , Louie struggling to keep the whole shrinking plot a secret and the rest of the families game night, excelently, it’s just with my brain i’ts harder to do that in a recap so...
Game Night: Crush Your Enmies and See Them Driven Before You
Scrooge goes to the Conan of Sumeria/Melissa School of Game Nighting. Or in short...
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Why HASN’T there been a Conan musical? So he and Donald dominate the first round, Charades, with Scrooge easily guessing almost EVERYHTING Donald mimes. As Webby puts it “When you’ve been around donald for 30 years you get good at non-verbal commuincation”. Granted they have a commuincation breakdown that results in this magic.
So Webby understandably assumes that given their best friends and Scrooge and Donald, while reconciled, hate each other, that they have an advantage. She is wrong. Not the first time: she also assumed she and Lena were just friends. It happens. you get a few wrong everyone does. Instead we get a great bit of Dewey utterly failing to guess it’s Scrooge despite Webby being obvious because Dewey’s brain is a riddle for the ages.
Jenga dosen’t really go great for either so they go solo for SCROOGEPOLY. Because of COURSE Scrooge created monopoly in this version. I simletaniously love and hate how eveyr piece is a top hat. I love it because it’s a hilarously quick gag.. but also hate it because one of Monopoly’s biggest draws is having so many diffrent peices. I mean some like the sports car make sense but then you have a dog for some reason and an ironing board. I mean I love that dog, he’s a good boy but I don’t understand why he’s in this. If anyone knows the weird old timey reasoning for either of these let me know in the replies or my asks.
This isn’t bad stuff mind, it’s just not really deep in stuff for me to make fun of. Apart from Donald ending up in jail... again. At least it’s not as bad as say goblin jail or that time he had to carve pinocchio’s nose into a shiv to surivive whale jail.
Louie: “How Long Before That’s Not Enough?”
Okay I kid, the subplot is good.. but that’s th epotatoes.. this is the potatoes iwth cheese.. look I love meat but potatoes don’t get enough love. They just don’t and you can do all kinds of delicious things to them. It’s why a good third of side dishes at most restaurants are potato based.
But yeah rolling it back a bit Louie is confident that even with the this will be mildly relaxing.. then Gyro bursts in thorugh the double doors proudly announcing his invention and pries himself in, ignoring Louie’s desperate attempts to shut him out.
Gyro is.. different in this episode. He’s peppy and while he’s mildly condescnding to the Gyropludians, more no that in a second, he’s far more enthuastic and freindly to everyone else and less of the awkward ballbag he’d been last season and would be again this season.
This feels like an ATTEMPTED course correct. See a lot of people, if understandably didn’t like how Gyro was in season 1. Fan of the original him from the comics and show iddn’t like the nice, friendly weirdo suddenly being a sour, condesencindg weirdo. Me I was FINE with the change from unintentional mad scientist to intentional one... I just feel they overdid it on the asshole as season 1 went on. In The Great Dime Chase he’s fine, he’s egosticial, angry and kind of a pill.. but he also clearly cares for his creations, rightfully hates the board for constantly doubting him, and is frustrated his creations keep going rouge. It was a nice balance.
The balance got thrown off entirely however once Fenton entered the scene. The crew just leaned WAY to hard into hwo much of a shitweasel he was to fenton: giving him an office in the bathroom with a cool quip, trying to beat him up (even if his rage over Fenton’s dumbassery was warranted that was not), and finally trying to take the gizmoduck armor back not out of any real concerns but because he’s worried he’ll loose his job... his job iwth the man who freely tolerates his creations going insane and really dosen’t care about his own colateral let alone Gyro’s. It came off as disngenous and that he simply didn’t trust FENTON with it and wanted and excuse to take the armor Fenton had clearly earned. He also pit manny and bulb against each other for a job which just felt out of character even for him to possibly fire one of his children which felt horribly out of character. Toniing this down was a good thing.. I just feel they overcorrected. They tried making him the 80′s version with a slight ego here, and when that didn’t work they just downplayed him for the rest of the season. He’s still around, in fact we’ll be seeing him again soon enough, and he still gets some great jokes... he’s just not really focused on at all. But they managed to fix their fix in season 3: they did have Gyro be a dick to Fenton again but gave proper context, had him apologize and framed it less as a funny joke and more as him being abusive because he was abused himself and breaking the cycle. He also kept the supporting role but kept the shadiness in it, with the earpiece bit from “Louie’s Eleven” being a highlight.
Gyro has a new device that can pick up tiny sounds and has found a tiny civilization in the ducks house, dubbing them Gyropudlians because he apparnetly likes Gullivers Travels. I do not really know what that’s about, nor have I seen any of the movies. Not even the jack black one made on a dare to see if they could actually sell a movie on the concept “This old story but as a jack black comedy”. And it went horribly wrong because they actually did get it greenlit and someone out there actually watched it. Not me... and I watched the Wrong MIssy entirely of my own volition. I’m not immune from making eye staining mistakes. This just wasn’t one of them.
Gyro ends up getting shrunk down because he naturally attached a shrink ray to it because...
So Louie shrugs it off correctly figuring out the arc of that sort of story: Gyro becomes a god, he learns a life lesson that sort of thing. Also I do applaud them for making the lost tribe not horribly racist.. that is a hard line to walk. They just make them generic instead which.. still better than racist. “Not Racist” isn’t a very high bar to clear but given this version went out of it’s way to be inclusive while the original show.. what’s a good metaphor for this.. hrmmm... these rakes are all the racism in the original show i’ve encoungered so far and probably will in the future, and i’m sideshow bob.
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Eventually though the Gyropudlians decide to decalre war on the giants because unknowingly the Ducks have been destroying their civilizations time and time again.. mostly louie but donald clearly peed a civiliztion to death..and i’m not grasping at straws there he left the bathroom and the other two possiblities for the floating city are too horrible to comprehend. Or it was just the sink and i’m a bastard... i’m probably a bastard.
So they blast the shrink ray around the kitchen and get Launchpad, so now he’s a part of this cliche. Beakly finds them.. is highly supscious, and Huey’s lie is.. not convincing... but this gets her out of game night with her overcompeitive boss so she takes the out and gets the fuck out and is not seen for the rest of the episode.. probably for several days. Look she does a lot around the house no one’s going to question if she comes back after a mysteirous absence with someone elses blood on her apron and several thousnd ddollars in brazilian cocaine. The sweetest cocaine of all. Scrooge is just used to it by now.
Anyways things continue to escalate as The Gyropuldians, Launchpad and Gyro launch an assault on the tower of infinity, aka the jenga tower and knock it over. The Good news is launchpad surivives and we get a great bit of the brothers hugging then awkarly and half assedly explaning it to cover. the bad news is the Gyropudlians considered it an act of war and have trained some flies to man the microphone shrink ray dealie.
It’s here we get the best scene of the episode: Huey is naturally worried.. even more so after he sees Louie’s response to the unfolding chaos: Curling up in a fetal position and rocking back in forth muttering to himself this was supposed to be a fun night in. Huey finally has had enough of this and wants to knwo wha tthe hell this is all about, shooting down Louie attempting to deflect it with his usual lazy schtick. Even at his laziest he’d pride self preservation over doing nothing. This is something worse. And while Huey is furious his rage is coming out of concern. While Huey prides himself on his brain... he has the biggest heart of the three. He’s the most empathetic and the one most willing to reach out to the others when they need him. Not that hte others lack it, Dewey was the one to welcome Webby into the group the most after all, it’s just Huey displays it the most. So his anger comes off entirely as genuine worry at Louie acting out of character and trying to avoid doing what eveyrone else does. And his response.. is heartbreaking...
“BECAUSE I’MMom was great at adventuring, and she still got hurt. I'm only good at talking my way out of it. How long before that's not enough? NOT GOOD AT IT OKAY?!”
Bobby Monihan.. really dosen’t get enough credit for this show. When he gets to really do something big with Louie he goes for it and he uttelry dominates the scnee here. Danny Pudi is no slouch mind.. but Monihan REALLy gets to show what he can do. His reasoning for his worries is also just as well delivered and heartbreaking.
“Mom was great at adventuring, and she still got hurt. I'm only good at talking my way out of it. How long before that's not enough?“
It just.. stings a lot. To find that Louie’s exaustion wasn’t out of self intrest.. but just out of fear. That he won’t be good enough at best and that he’ll end up like his mom: lost or dead never to be seen again as far as he figures. As a third of this arc will bear out, tha’ts not even remotely true, but out of the three Louie is the most pragmatic so while he says hurt.. he thinks she’s dead. And if she, someone as capable as scrooge or as close as someone whose not him can be, could end up dead... he’s living on borrowed time.
This is where the Venture bros comparison really comes out to me... because they had a similar if more spread out storyline in season 5, with bookish brother Dean, Huey if he lacked autisim but gained 80 dozen more issues, found out he and his brother Hank, aka Dewey in his teens, were clones because his dad is really bad at keeping his sons alive because he’s also bad at everything else including science, parenting, being emotinally open, making a cocktail that isn’t a crime against nature, sex, and not treating hank like garbage, which should fall under shitty parenting but I love my empty headed boy.
So why bring this up? Well besides self indulgance because I love both shows iwth a signifgant portion of my heart and frank flat out admitted to being a venture bros fan, and having Beakly take some cues from Brock, I love the accidental parallels here: both are arcs about a boy adventuer coming to grips with their mortality. Both withdraw, both are heavily depressed and both feel there’s no real light at the end of the tunnel for htem anymore.
And both.. are drawn out of it the same way.. by a concerned brother pulling them out of their misery and self doubt:
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It’s the same here... Huey helps Louie through it, understanding how he feels.. and like Hank did for Dean, proving to Louie he’s not alone. He points out that yes Della did get hurt.. but it’s because she went in alone. He’s got his family.. they won’t let him get lost or die.. because their not alone. The reason they can do all this stuff is because their together. Their all amazing alone.. but together their unstoppable. And i’ts fine Louie’s afraid.. but he can’t let that fear kill everyone he cares about.
So our boys run upstairs, but are a second too late as the gyro pudlians shrink the other four down, and the duo’s attempt to grow them just makes one of the gyropudlians giant instead. With things at their grimmist.. Louie finds his TRUE talent, looks at the situation. and takes charge. In the span of two minutes he completely turns the tide: he has launchpad crash his way out, which he does by pure accident because of course he does he’s nature’s perfect Himbo. He next has Donald and scrooge take on some guards to give Dewey and Webby some room and has Huey take out the giant with his sewing. His final part is to have Dewey and Webby work their way up to the ray gun.. which is a probelma s both have lost all confidence due to realizing they have nothing in common and can’t fathom how their friends. Scrooge’s reply? Of course their not.. THEIR FAMILY. It was then that a thousand debbigail shippers cried out and were silenced... I know I was one of them. I couldn’t speak for about a minute. It was awful.
And yeah.. I had been shipping Dewey and Webby up to this point, but it was becoming increasingly obvious they were being treated like brother and sister and then this happened. And in hindsight i’m glad I jumepd the hell off as they turne dout ot be blood related so I dodged a bullet there an found better ships for both. So no harm no F.O.W.L. clone accidental incest.
Realizing this the two find their second wind and save the day. OUr heroes are restored and things are good.
The next day, Louie faces the music with Scrooge and is terrified, not helped by Scrooge being dead serious... but his worries are for naught. Scrooge instead only has one thing to say
“You saw all the angles”
Something the crew conciously did was have each of the kids mimic one of Scrooge’s tennants, something that was heavily implied before but made fully explicit here: Dewey is toughter than the toughies, Huey is Smarter than the smarties... and Louie is the oft forgotten Sharper than the sharpies. Scrooge even lampshades how that part of his motto is often left out. And of course as frank made clear post series, Webby made her way into the family Square.
But back to the sharpie thing, I like this because it defines what that truly means, as it often comes off as similar to the smartie bit hence i’ts exclusion: It’s the ablitliyt to think quickly, strategize, a strategic, critical mind that can come up with a gambit in an instant and use everyone to the best of their abillity. It’s why for an example, Scott Summers is one of my faviorite x-men. Because while his eye laser things are impressive it’s this kind of cleverness and tactical insight, seeing all the pieces on the board and easily manuvering them, friend and foe, that makes him so awesome. And as scrooge muses it could make Louie even richer than he is. And in a truly touching gesture, Scrooge gives Louie the idol, confident in his Nephew’s potetial. His mother reached hers... he only needs time. So with that Louie’s arc truly begins and he hangs a shingle on the triplets door. Louie inc is born.
Final Thoughts:
This episode caught me by suprise: I remember it being decent.. but damn if it wasn’t amazing on the rewatch, with the knowledge of Louie’s weakness helping but really it’s just a funny, tightly paced half hour of television. It has great jokes, a great emtoinal arc and in general is jsut well.. great. I didn’t see this poteitial the first time because I was more hung up on fethry finally appearing, the cabs finally appearing.. all the things in the distance after this ep. But this ep is just damn good and I wish i’d put it on my best of list. Top shelf stuff.
Next time on Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers: The second arc starts up as FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD returns as an amensiac south african fisherman and it’s up to Webby and Louie to unravel his past to figure out why he’s acting like this and if this is another one of his insane schemes. We also meet Zan Owlson buisnesswoman of the year and person about to go through some undeserved shit at the hands of a stupid man.
Later Today: We return to Amity Park for more Danny Phantom and meet his second most intresting enemy as an innocent fuckup turns a spoiled brat into one of most dangerous enemies. Also PUPPIES and Tucker being the worst.
Wednsday: We grab onto some more ducktales as Donald returns to Ducktales 87. And judging by the content warning so does racisim.
If you liked this review stop my patreon RIGHT HERE. Seriously please do: you’ll find exclusive reviews, and if you join you’ll get acess to my discord, get to pick a short for my shortstravganzas, and help me reach my strech goals. And at my next one at 20, just 5 dollars away, ALL READERS will get a darkwing duck review a month and reivews of the two ducktales movie as well as the Danny Phantom TV Movie the ultimate enemy!
See you at the next rainbow!
#ducktales#season 2 arcs#louie duck#huey duck#scrooge mcduck#dewey duck#webby vanderquack#donald duck#gyro gearloose#bentina beakley#launchpad mcquack#duckworth#the most dangerous game night!#della duck
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Pieces
Pairing: (F)Reader x Yugyeom
Word count: 6.3k
Genre: Soulmate AU | Fluff | Romance
Summary: As a messenger of the puzzle pieces, you spend your life delivering boxes to the people in your area every day. You take a particular interest towards one of the humans: Kim Yugyeom. Due to the fact that you’re a messenger, you don’t get to build your own soulmate puzzle while you watch as Yugyeom rushes out excitedly to receive his box every year on his birthday...
Soulmate series: Jaebeom - Strings | Mark - Inked | Jackson - Bubbles | Jinyoung - Masked | Youngjae - Drawings | BamBam - Footprints
Masterlist
Yugyeom remembers the time he received his first puzzle pieces. The gift box appeared at the front door when he was seven, and without much thought, he put them together. There were five pieces, but only three of them connected to each other; the other two were lone pieces. He had asked his older brother about it, and that was the first time he was taught about the concept of soulmates.
According to his brother, he would receive puzzle pieces every year; they could come in numbers or they could come as one single piece. Yugyeom would have to build the picture slowly as the years go by and the finished picture would lead him to where he would eventually meet his soulmate.
When Yugyeom turned eight, he received two pieces. He stared at the pieces and with the help of his brother, he figured out where the pieces went.
He turned nine, he received seven. As some pieces do, they remain in the box until he can find their connected pieces. The pile of lone pieces were slowly building up and Yugyeom was disappointed when only one of the pieces from that set could be added to the growing picture.
Ten rolls by and he has one. Once again, he’s slightly disappointed that it’s only one piece. There are two disjointed corners that are slowly growing to meet the middle. But, the single piece doesn’t match up to any of the pieces that are currently on his desk.
He turns thirteen, there’s three puzzle pieces that help connect the bridge between the two corners.
By the time Yugyeom turns nineteen, he’s almost halfway done. But, he’s running out of free time to actually sit and continue building the puzzle. The empty boxes are stacked on top of each other in the dorms and the pieces are piled in one of the open boxes. The years are slowly going by and more and more boxes appear as all of the members are receiving their puzzle pieces from the unknown messenger.
All of the boxes that appear on the doorstep are coloured differently - name cards tied to the ribbons on top. They usually appear in the morning of their birthday, and as Yugyeom’s twenty-first birthday approaches, he starts looking back to the puzzle. His puzzle pieces are small, but the half finished picture looks big - and if he has the patient to calculate how many are left, he could probably calculate how many years he has before he’ll be able to find his soulmate.
Yugyeom’s gaze is locked on the pile of puzzle pieces, the sound of BamBam sleeping soundly in the bed beside him filling the otherwise silent room. He pulls the covers off of himself and quietly moves to the desk, turning on the table lamp and looking at the picture. Yugyeom plugs his ears in and sets his Spotify on shuffle as he lays down the pieces in front of him. He spends the whole night slowly putting together what he can, the pile growing smaller while the picture gets bigger.
By the time the sun’s rising, Yugyeom’s leaning back in his chair and staring at three lone puzzle pieces. There’s still one hole in the middle left to finish, and he can barely make out what the picture actually is.
“Did you not sleep?” BamBam’s raspy voice makes Yugyeom turn around, pulling his headphones out in the process to see his roommate looking at him with tired eyes. Yugyeom looks out the window, his mind only now noticing the sunlight slivering through the blinds.
His shoulders raise in a shrug before he turns back around, “I couldn’t.” He hears BamBam shift around in his bed for a moment before he hears footprints shuffling towards him.
“What does it look like?” his voice comes out deep - tired - as he looks at the picture.
“I can’t seem to make it out yet. There’s a patch in the middle that I can’t get to yet,” Yugyeom mutters, his thumb running over one of the smooth, glossy corner pieces. BamBam lets out a yawn before shuffling around the room to grab his towel.
“You should sleep, Gyeommie,” BamBam tiredly says as he opens the bedroom door. “at least take a nap or something. We have practice in a few hours.”
Yugyeom watches as he leaves before turning back down to the puzzle pieces. There was still a long way to go and he could only wonder how long it’ll be before he would finally finish the puzzle.
»»————- ————-««
You skip along the hallways, gently placing the boxes down by each door. The colourful boxes in your backpack each have different destinations, different number of pieces, and different owners. You move on to the next building. Then, the next building - and the next - until your backpack is empty, signaling your end of the day. You pull your phone out of your pocket, texting the creator of the boxes to let him know.
(Y/n):
I’m done for the day. Take me home, please.
There’s a pause before you feel the air around you shift. You close your eyes and open them to be surrounded by your living room. Slipping your backpack off, you rest it on the couch and move into your kitchen to start thinking of what to make for dinner. Your job on Earth is simple enough. You’re not directly related to any God, but you’re pretty much one of the only humans who are allowed to cross through the worlds.
You could almost say you're kind of like Hermes…? The story of how you even got this status is a huge mess of your family line. To sum it up, Zeus was being sketchy with your ancestors, he made Hera upset and to make up for it, your ancestors made a deal to work for Eros as some kind of a messenger. Since then, one person from each generation is chosen to be the messenger of the soulmate boxes. You’re almost like Santa - well, if Santa was multiple people and delivered soulmate puzzle pieces every day until you pass on the job to your children.
Unfortunately, you don’t have your own puzzles. The deal was that you’d work for Eros, but you would have to trust your soulmates in finding you on your own. That meant that you had no idea where your soulmate could be, and you don’t exactly meet the people when you give them their puzzles. You’re simply a passing figure that most humans couldn’t see when you were working.
You decide to just order pizza and take a bottle of rootbeer out from the fridge before plopping yourself onto your couch. You turn on your TV and just start randomly scrolling through your Netflix to find something to entertain you. This was your life. You’d deliver boxes everyday until your backpack would run out, then you’d head home, do whatever you wanted until the next day comes and your backpack has been refilled with boxes.
As tiring as it is, you’re pretty content with your situation. It was more tiring when you first started - you were sixteen - and as the years went by, it got easier. Adding to that, Eros changes the rules every once in a while, and when it was your turn, he had already been more kind to his human workers. In exchange for diligence, he would give you luxury. That meant that the harder you worked, the more he would give you. You would start at the bottom while you’re still living with your parents, and depending on how hard you work in between then and when you move out, Eros would have an apartment ready for you.
When the pizza arrives, you're quick to answer the door. You're surprised to see Eros there instead, pizza box in hand, but you let him in anyway.
"I need to talk to you, (Y/n)," the god hums as he places the box on the kitchen counter.
"What's up, boss?" you question as you open the box and sit yourself on the barstool, taking one of the slices. You watch as he reaches for one of the slices before pausing and looking up at you. "Go ahead." You wave your free hand at him and he happily takes the slice.
"I'm planning on giving you a bigger apartment," Eros states and you choke on your pizza. He looks up at you in shock as you start coughing violently, drinking your rootbeer to help wash it down.
"A bigger one?!" you ask in disbelief, voice raspy.
Eros simply nods as he takes a bit out of his pizza, "You've been working really hard since I gave you this one."
"Why not just give me a car or a bike or something? I don't live with anyone or anything. I'll just be wasting all the space." you suggest and he seems to take it into thought for a moment.
"Ah, would you like a pet instead?" Eros simpers.
Huh, a pet wouldn't be so bad. Wait, "What concept of pets do Gods have? Last time you gave someone a pet, you tried to give my grandma a dragon." Your eyes narrow accusingly at him and he lets out a nervous laugh, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck.
"Dragons aren't common, but I honestly forgot that dragons are myths to humans. So, I could give you a smaller creature instead," Eros offers. "Oh! What about a griffin?" Your jaw drops as you stare at him.
"Boss, griffins are not small,” you remind him.
"Yes, but they could help you get around faster. You can both be invisible to the normal human eye - other messengers would still be able to see you two, of course - but you wouldn't have to message me all the time," Eros explains just as he finishes his pizza slice, “they also make pretty good companions.”
You let out a small laugh, "Is this your way of getting me to stop asking you to move me all over the place?" He belts with laughter and you can feel it spread to you as well. You learned over time that Eros is actually a pretty cool guy. Sometimes he felt bad that humans were working for him which was one of the main reasons for his generosity - he was generally really nice, but he just felt like his workers deserved something in return.
“Will you agree to a griffin? I’ll get you a really cute griffin,” Eros concludes and slaps his hands together excitedly, “your delivery will come tomorrow, but you won’t know when it’ll be here.” With that, he disappears. You let out an amused chuckle as you pick up the pizza box and move into the living room.
»»————- ————-««
The moment Yugyeom wakes up, he’s immediately rushing out of his bedroom. Even though he’s moved to his own apartment, he knows that the puzzle pieces should still show up at his doorstep. As expected, when Yugyeom opened the front door, there was a little yellow gift box wrapped in a red ribbon sitting on the ground. He felt a giddy feeling inside as he picked up the box and immediately went back into his room.
He moves to his desk where the almost finished puzzle was and opens the box. Yugyeom’s surprised when he sees almost more than ten pieces in it. It’s rare that he even gets more than five pieces. Nonetheless, he begins working on the puzzles. What the image is barely registers in his mind; it’s the last piece in the middle that does. This means Yugyeom has to wait one more year until he can finish the puzzle.
It’s only when he leans back in his chair that he takes a proper look at the picture. There’s a sense of curiosity that strikes through him when he realises what the image looks like. It looks exactly like his front door. The only missing piece is the number of the apartment. Yugyeom stares at the puzzles in disbelief. Would his soulmate suddenly show up in his building and he’d bump into them?
There’s a knock on his door that makes him turn away from his desk to see his flatmate peeking into his room. “Happy birthday, Yugyeommie,” Min smiles brightly. Yugyeom’s immediately engulfed with a sense of warmth as the older man enters his room and approaches him. “I see you’ve already gotten your birthday present from the universe,” he chuckles lightly, but he’s cut off when he sees the picture.
“Min-hyung, this looks like our front door,” Yugyeom points out and Min leans down to take a closer look.
“It really does,” He nods, “but, it’s missing the number. It could really be any of the apartments here.” Min stands straight and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Did you meet your soulmate before or after you received the last piece?” Yugyeom puzzles.
Min lets out a hum, “After. I hadn’t even finished the whole thing yet; I left the box in my room and made a note to do it when I had free time. The next day, I bumped into her at the park that was in the picture.” He explains, glancing at Yugyeom, “I don’t think we’ll meet our soulmates until after all the pieces have been delivered to us.” It’s more of a guess, but Yugyeom seems to agree with it, too.
Min leaves his room shortly after, telling him that he’ll take Yugyeom out for a birthday lunch. Yugyeom stays seated for a moment, staring at the picture. He will have to wait a whole year before being able to know exactly which door is in the picture.
He finally stands up after a moment and moves into his bathroom to get ready, but the thought doesn’t leave him alone even while they’re both heading to the mall. “You have a whole year, Gyeommie. Don’t worry about it,” Min tells him as they step into the lift, “today is about you and the fact that you’re twenty-three.” He smiles as he leads Yugyeom out of the lift and towards the restaurant, clasping his hands on his shoulders as they stand at the entrance.
Yugyeom’s genuinely surprised when he sees the entire restaurant empty except for his friends. Balloons decorated the lot, a large ‘Happy Birthday’ spelt out on the wall. There’s a wide smile on his face when he sees the birthday cake sitting at the edge of the table as Min guides him to his seat.
“Blow out the candles, Yugyeom!” Eun Woo encourages and everyone watches as he blows out the candles, cheers following after.
“Happy birthday, Yugyeom!” They cheered excitedly. Yugyeom’s heart is overwhelmed with warmth as his friends start handing him gifts, a cheery atmosphere building in the restaurant.
“How many pieces did you get today?” Jaehyun questions.
“Ten,” Yugyeom answers absentmindedly just as he takes a paper bag from Jaebeom, “I usually get less than that, so it was surprising. But, I only need one more piece which means that I only have one year left before I can meet my soulmate!”
BamBam whistles. “Our Yugyeom’s going to finally meet his soulmate.” A chuckle follows his words. Out of his friends, it was a bit of a shame to admit that Yugyeom was one of the last few to finally meet his soulmate. Only him, Jaehyun and Mingyu hadn’t met their soulmates yet. Even BamBam had finished the puzzle that led him to his platonic soulmate two years prior - and from her, she found him his current girlfriend.
“I bet they’ll be the sunshine of your life,” Jinyoung smiles, causing a wave of cooing from the rest of the group.
“Aww, Jinyoung hyung’s only this nice to me when it’s my birthday,” Yugyeom cooes, pinching Jinyoung’s cheeks playfully. The older man responds by swatting Yugyeom’s hand away with a playful scowl on his face.
“Jinyoung hyung’s barely ever nice to us when it’s not our birthday.” BamBam laughs.
“That’s because sometimes you make my life a living nightmare,” Jinyoung states softly.
“You love us, just admit it.” Jackson slings his arms over Jinyoung’s shoulders and starts to sway him side to side. Yugyeom spends the whole day with his friends. After lunch, they head on to the arcade and try to convince the guy at the counter that they should get a discount for the duck plushie since it’s Yugyeom’s birthday. It doesn’t work.
Jungkook still manages to win a little bulbasaur plushie from the claw game though. It was a race of who could get a plushie first out of the three people that were trying, and Jungkook beat Jaebeom and Mingyu. His magical hands somehow managed to win the pokemon after one try.
Jungkook raises his hands and starts wiggling his fingers at the other two, “I win this game all the time.” There’s a proud smirk on his face that Mingyu pouts at.
“Yugyeommie, I won a unicorn!” Jackson excitedly announces as he skips towards the younger man, a large pink unicorn in his hands.
“That’s great!” Yugyeom laughs as he sees how excited Jackson is.
“Come on, let’s go get Yugyeom a chocolate shake,” Jinyoung calls from the entrance of the arcade; almost like a mother duck calling for her ducklings. As ducklings would, everyone starts to follow Jinyoung out of the arcade obediently.
»»————- ————-««
“Eclipse, come on.” You click your tongue, watching the Border Collie immediately whisk her head in your direction. She hops her way down the hallway to where you are, bumping her head against your leg. You’re glad Eros decided against giving you a griffin and instead just gave you a normal human pet; a dog. Eclipse was super bubbly. Her presence immediately lit up your lonely apartment, and she made a great companion who would follow you around when you were working.
As Eros said, she would appear invisible if you wanted her to - she seems to understand that. Eclipse seems to understand you as well. You’ve had her for about a year or two, and she’s grown to learn how to tell apart your feelings. She even brings you her favourite broccoli plush toy when you’re sad.
You walk out of the apartment building with Eclipse walking by your side. Your backpack was already empty from having sent boxes since before dawn. As you’re walking towards your home, you spot one of your favourite humans. You keep yourself invisible as you watch him from a safe distance - being invisible doesn’t mean they can’t feel you. Yugyeom’s always been your favourite human. Every time you deliver his puzzles, you would wait to see him step out of his apartment to pick it up.
You had taken note of the way he was growing more and more exciting as the years went by. There was a moment in time where you noticed that he hadn’t paid much attention to the boxes, but that was when you knew he was a fresh idol. Now, he was older and he was living with a producer. Somewhere along the time of him getting ready to move out, Yugyeom had gotten visibly more excited with seeing the boxes.
“Is this stalking?” you question Eclipse as you continue to follow the group. She doesn’t answer. You decide it probably is. You just find him really adorable. Back when you had to deliver to their dorms, you would always stick around to watch them practice. You concluded that your favourite thing about Yugyeom was the way he danced. His body control was amazing, and you were sure only a robot could move their feet the way he could.
For a moment you actually considered revealing yourself to him. But the sad truth always hits you whenever you see him open his front door and immediately reach for the box. Yugyeom’s only excited because he wants to find his soulmate, and while you watch him try and get closer to his soulmate, you can only try and wait for yours to find you. You follow the group until they enter a cafe and that’s where you decide that you shouldn’t follow them inside. “Let’s go home,” you tell Eclipse who responds with a bark.
Even though Eclipse can’t bring you around easily, you still like that you now have a companion who walks around with you. You don’t feel the need to message Eros anymore because you enjoy the walk back to your apartment. It’s more fun with the fluffy brown and white dog that follows you around. You stop at a park when you see her towards a tree. You swear her attention span is that of the squirrel she’s chasing - especially when she immediately turns her focus onto a lizard before coming back to you.
By the time you reach home, there's already someone waiting for you outside your door. "(Y/n)!" She waves at you excitedly when she sees you walking out of the lift.
"Nova?" You haven't seen the fellow messenger in a while, so you're not only surprised by her visit but also by her electric blue hair. "It's blue," you state as you unlock the door to your apartment, letting her in as well.
"Is it nice?" She questions as she runs her hand through her hair. "I got tired of blonde and it was already bleached so might as well." Nova's shoulders raise in a shrug. You let out a hum in response as you rummage through your fridge to find your last two cans of soda, pulling both out and handing one to her.
"What have you been up to? You disappeared after Chris had that party." The party was meant for messengers from all over the world to get together and just have fun, but it was also the last time you had seen Nova before she disappeared.
"Oh," The chuckle she lets out is awkward - embarrassed almost - making you even more curious of her whereabouts as you both sit on your couch, "Eros moved me to London because he said I wasn't getting anything done in Seoul." She explains softly. You can't say you're exactly surprised.
Nova was a year younger than you and she was a social butterfly. The problem that just added to it was that she loves to party. You always wondered how long it would be before she would get in trouble for partying instead of working.
"Are you back to working in Seoul?" you question.
"Unfortunately, no," She shakes her head, "I'm still covering a small area in London. I'm here because my soulmate’s here.” Nova’s statement made your eyes widen once again.
“Your soulmate found you?” you immediately question.
A soft chuckle leaves her lips, “More like Eros led me to her.” You watch as she takes a sip from the can before placing it onto your coffee table. “I came back because Eros asked me to visit you. I realised that it’s been like… what? Five - Six years since we last saw each other. So, he’s giving me a few days off and let me chill here since I’ve been working really hard in London. I found her two days ago when I was coming here. Her name’s Haneul, she lives a few floors below you.” You lean back into the couch with a soft smile on your face.
“That’s good,” you hum. There’s a comfortable silence that settles in your living as you sit together, basking in each other’s company. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss her. Nova was the only other messenger that you were close with. She used to cover the area that was right next to yours, making it easier for the both of you to hang out constantly. Being a messenger is not exactly the most rational thing you could tell someone who wasn’t one.
After Nova had disappeared, you were devastated of course. You had known her since you were both in high school, and it was by chance that you two bumped into each other. You had just finished up sending boxes to the last apartment when you saw her. The golden ribbon tied to the strap of her backpack was the dead giveaway that she was a fellow messenger. Eros thought it would be nicer to have a way to try and see who was a messenger and who wasn’t, and he chose a glowing golden ribbon that only messengers could see.
There was also a weird charm about being friends with Nova. She knew most of the other messengers that were in Korea, and you bet that she had become acquainted with the messengers in Britain as well. She was the messenger that told you about Chris Bang’s messenger ‘get together’.
“What about you?” Nova’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to give her a questioning look, “has your soulmate found you?” You shake your head at her question, turning away from her to see Eclipse already settled in her fluffy cotton bed.
“I don’t know who they are, and I don’t know if they’re getting close,” You sigh, taking a sip of your drink, “that’s the only thing I hate about being a messenger. We don’t get that giddy feeling of finishing puzzles.” Your words come out sad. Not being able to track down your soulmate was the only thing that bummed you out about being a messenger. “Plus, you never know whether or not they find the whole messenger thing weird. For all I know, they would hate that I do it.”
There’s a silence before Nova continues,“What about that Yugyeom guy? You’ve always been attracted to him - has he finished his puzzles yet?”
You shake your head, “His birthday next year is the last set. After that delivery, I won’t get to see him annually anymore.” Nova lets out a hum at that. She doesn’t want to add anything that might make you feel bad, but you appreciate her responding rather than just staying silent. “Maybe I’ll find another human to admire,” you chuckle, breaking the silence, “hopefully it’ll be my soulmate.”
“They’ll find you eventually,” Nova reassures you. “If you don’t have one, I’m pretty sure Eros would let you know.”
“I doubt that.” You’re very sure that if you didn’t have a soulmate, Eros would find a way to connect you with someone else without letting you know. “Boss is weird like that. He doesn’t like giving us details sometimes,” you chuckle.
Nova chuckles as well just as she places her now empty can onto your coffee table,“Who would’ve expected a deity would feel bad if they had to tell a human they didn’t have a soulmate.” She stands up and looks around your living room. “Looks like you’ve managed to please him, though,” she points out.
“I never minded the work. I actually enjoy it,” you shrug. “I never ask for anything from him. Boss just decides one day that he wants to get me something, and he’ll show up out of nowhere.”
“Ah! You’ve reunited!” The sudden voice makes both of you yell out of shock, turning to your balcony to see Eros walking in. The deity steps back in surprise before.
“Boss! What the hell?!” you yell, staring at him in disbelief. His sudden appearance should be a normal thing by now, but every time he drops in without a warning, it still seems to scare you.
“Give a heads up or something! You can’t do that!” Nova scolds.
“Oh, right, humans rob each other.” Eros muses as he closes the sliding door to your balcony. “I’ll remember to knock next time,” he chuckles, “I came here to talk to (Y/n), but I see you’re busy.” He gestures to Nova’s presence.
“Boss, you’re a deity, it shouldn’t really matter,” you state.
“Right, it shouldn’t,” he mutters. “Okay, well, not to eavesdrop, but (Y/n) your soulmate will find you soon, don’t worry about that - but this isn’t why I’m here. It’s about your location.” Eros added. You immediately get struck with fear. Was he going to move you somewhere else like he did with Nova? But you had been working so hard even after he gifted you Eclipse.
“Am I being moved?” you question nervously.
He quickly shakes his head, “I’m not moving you anywhere. I just wanted to give you a hint for your soulmate.” His words make you even more nervous, “they live here; in Seoul. You just have to wait until you deliver their last box, and they’ll come for you.”
“Why are you letting her know?” Nova asks, tilting her head in slight confusion.
“It’ll be soon,” Eros shrugs, “I thought it would be worth letting you know. I’m not letting you know their gender, but I will tell you that it’ll be next year.” The newfound knowledge just makes your eyes harden into a glare.
“Boss, I could’ve gone fine without knowing that,” you state. He shrugs once again in response.
“This is for Eclipse,” he pulls out a bag of dog treats and sets them on your coffee table. “That’s all I wanted to say. Have fun with the information.” He waves before disappearing before the two of you. You and Nova stare at the spot the deity stood; speechless.
“D-Did he really just come here to give your dog treats?” Nova questions. Her tone matches just how baffled you are as well. “He could’ve sent a fairy - or a messenger - or something that isn’t him.”
“We’ve been working for him since we were sixteen and he still manages to surprise us,” you muse before turning your attention to the dog treats. You pick up the packet and examine it; they don’t look like any kind of treats you have ever seen - or in this world at least. “Is this Greek?” You hold the bag up to Nova who tilts her head to try and read the writing.
“Oh my god, did he come here to give your dog treats only available to gods?!” She’s even more bewildered as she stares at the packet.
“Well, she is a gift from a god. So, I guess it works,” you chuckle as you place the bag down onto the coffee table.
»»————- ————-««
“Your last puzzle is showing up tomorrow,” Min reminds Yugyeom as they sit in the living room.
“I know,” Yugyeom nods. He’s doing his best to hide his nerves in front of his flatmate. He wouldn’t want Min to know exactly how excited and how nervous he’s feeling.
“Are you nervous?” the older man questions, turning to face him. Yugyeom bites his bottom lip to stop his smile,
“A little bit, yeah. But I’ve been building this puzzle for almost my entire life,” He shrugs, “I don’t even know when exactly I’ll meet my soulmate tomorrow.” Min glances away from the TV to look at him.
“You wanna have an early birthday party?” he suggests.
“Tonight?” Yugyeom turns to him. Min nods before standing up,
“I’ll take you to Gangnam. We can invite your band mates.” The older man gives him a suggestive look and Yugyeom agrees. Might as well shake off the nerves with a bit of partying.
Meanwhile, you’re still running around the buildings to finish the last of your boxes for the day. Eclipse is following behind you, a satchel hanging from her mouth. She makes good help on days that you have to carry two bags filled with boxes. You place the last box down in front of the last apartment when you hear the sound of a door opening down the hallway.
Turning around, you see Yugyeom and his flatmate leaving their apartment. You feel a sense of sadness hitting you when you see your favourite person. Tomorrow would be his last box, meaning he’s most likely meeting his soulmate soon. You decide that you would linger outside his apartment for a bit longer after you drop off his box. Again; you know it’s creepy. But you’ve been delivering boxes to this person for the past seven years or so, and you know you’re going to miss seeing how excited he gets when it’s his birthday - he’s also pretty clumsy, so you’ll use that as an excuse to ‘watch over him’.
You’re so caught up in watching him leave that you completely forget what you’re supposed to be doing. It’s Eclipse’s bark that snaps you out of your thoughts. You turn around to see her putting the satchel down and pushing the top open with her nose; there’s still one more box in the bag.
“Huh,” you look at the box in surprise. “I must’ve counted wrong,” you mutter as you pick up the box. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out to see a new message from Eros.
Boss:
The address is not anywhere near him
Stop getting sidetracked <3
Your head snaps up to the ceiling and you glare at nothing, but you know that Eros is probably laughing from his home in the skies. “Let’s go, Eclipse,” you grumble as you start making your way out of the building.
The next day, you do as you had planned; lingering around Yugyeom's apartment to see him one more time. You're lucky two of his neighbours share the same birthday as him because it gives you more time to linger around his apartment.
Eclipse follows behind you. You notice that she's extra hyper today for some unknown reason, but you don't really think much of it. You assume it’s because you fed her the Greek treats before you left your apartment.
You pull Yugyeom’s box out of your bag and lay it on the ground, staring at it before taking a step back. He turns twenty-four today, and this is the last time you would be stopping at his doorstep. Moving back, you hide behind a corner and wait until he comes out. When he steps out, Eclipse suddenly barks excitedly and runs towards him.
When Yugyeom reacts to the bark, your eyes widen because it means she’s not invisible. The border collie tackles the tall man to the ground and you curse under your breath as you chase after her.
“I-I’m so sorry!” you squeak out as you try and pull the large dog off of him. Instead of getting mad like you expect him to, Yugyeom throws his head back in laughter. You feel your stomach bubble at the sound of his laugh.
"It's okay. She's probably just excited," he chuckles as he runs his hand through Eclipse's coat. "It's weird, but this is the first time I've seen your dog around here, are you…" Yugyeom trails off when he turns to you. You know why he’s staring at you like that because you can feel it too.
It's a strange buzzing in your chest when you lock eyes, your heart beat picks up the longer his eyes stay on you. Yugyeom stands up slowly, his brown eyes wide and staring at you. With whatever sense you have, you run the feelings in your chest through your mind.
"You're my soulmate,” you mutter out in realisation. Yugyeom looks down at the box in his hands and fumbles to open it up. He pulls out the last puzzle piece before turning to his front door,
"And this is the last piece of my puzzle," he states when the numbers match his front door. "Why would we meet here?" He turns back to you.
"I'm the box messenger," you pull your backpack off of your shoulder and open it to reveal the many boxes, "I've been delivering boxes to you for the past five years." Yugyeom stares into your backpack with his jaw dropped before his eyes flick back up to you.
“Y-You’re the messenger?” he squeaks out. You nod. He looks down to the box in his hands. There’s that familiar insecurity of being a messenger filling inside of you.
“It’s not weird, is it? It’s a job that runs in my family,” you explain softly, “I-I can’t do anything other than this or else my parents wo-” Yugyeom cuts you off by leaning down and slamming his lips onto yours. You’re shocked, of course, but something about it feels right. The way his hand is gently cupping your cheek while the other wraps around your waist, the way his lips move against yours as if they were meant for you; everything about him feels right.
When he pulls away, you’re both breathless and panting. His thumb gently runs over your cheekbone while you squeeze his biceps. “I’ve been wanting to finish those puzzles since forever,” he confesses with a chuckle.
“As a messenger, I don’t get the feeling of building the puzzles.” Your words make his face contort in confusion. “Messengers don’t get boxes. We only deliver them to the humans by command of Eros.”
“The Greek guy?” Yugyeom questions.
You nod with a soft giggle, “Yeah, ‘the Greek guy’. He’s my boss, and I’m pretty sure he meant for Eclipse to tackle you.” Yugyeom turns his attention to the dog that’s sitting at his feet and looking up at him excitedly.
“She’s adorable,” he coos as he bends down to pet her.
“She was a gift from Eros, and she’s an absolute doll.” You giggle when you see how she’s already warmed up to Yugyeom. He looks up to you and stands straight,
“So, you’ve been sending boxes to me this entire time but you didn’t know I was your soulmate?”
You shake your head, “Eros doesn’t let us know who our soulmates are. We just have to wait for them to finish their puzzles and they’ll find us.” He stares at you for a moment before opening his arms. You take the hint and wrap your arms around him, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His embrace is comfortable.
“I guess you could say that I’m your missing puzzle piece, huh?” he snorts which causes you to sigh and clamp your eyes shut.
“Aaaand you ruined it,” you joke as you pull away from him. He smiles as he looks at you,
“I’m not wrong, am I?” he chuckles, “I’m your puzzle piece.”
#kwritersworldnet#got7 imagines#got7 soulmate au#got7 fluff#got7 romance#got7 scenarios#got7 one shots#kim yugyeom#kim yugyeom imagines#kim yugyeom soulmate au#kim yugyeom fluff#kim yugyeom romance#kim yugyeom scenarios#yugyeom#yugyeom imagines#yugyeom soulmate au#yugyeom fluff#yugyeom romance#yugyeom scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop soulmate au#kpop fluff#kpop romance#kpop scenarios
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Moonlight Sonata
✤ OT8 w/ Woo-centric (+ a side of WooSan, SeongJoong)
✤ genre: fantasy!AU // mild horror, more creepy than anything really, a dash of fluff
✤ t/w: sfw, lots of spoopy shit happening, swearing, description of fantasy violence & grotesque body horror, very brief mention of intoxication, rated M
✤ count: 6k+
✤ [ ‘prologue’ of The Alderfell Chronicles ]
a/n - well this was suppose to be for Halloween and instead I’m using it as a belated birthday one(long)shot for our beloved Wooyoung. It’s my first member-centric piece that stemmed from me thinking about, “Why aren’t there many AUs for legendary beings like the Dullahan (Headless Horseman)?” Lo & behold the world of Alderfell was created and I do not regret it one bit. The only thing I regret is not having enough time to write this out as an on-going series, having to squeeze info/hints throughout this piece...so please excuse the weird jumps in timeline...about the characters’ lives and backstories. This is also my own twist on the concept of the Dullahan – they usually are depicted with a more sinister nature but my Dullahan is a good boi™. I do plan to re-visit every now and then, maybe to elaborate on certain origins or associated scenarios/blurbs. But for now, please enjoy reading about Wooyoung having the time of his life trying to settle down in a town that’s more than meets the eye and live to tell the tale of how he experienced first-hand a midnight stroll with a legend 💙 P.S. sentences in all italics are flashbacks! P.P.S. I would absolutely be keen to hear any thoughts/headcanons/speculations as to what you think is happening with each character or just about the world itself. See how many easter eggs you guys can find!
The balcony windows slammed opened as the intruding wind howled into the bedroom, drawing a shriek out of Wooyoung. In the unfortunate process of accidentally slamming his knee up to the escritoire with a startled jump, he helplessly watched as the ink jar tipped over a river of black onto his handwritten letter. Tugging at his coal black strands with a groan of frustration, he was soon reminded that the tempestuous rain had come in uninvited when the lamps and bronze candelabras started to quake.
Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, Wooyoung marched across the rosewood floor towards where the billowing ivory curtains were. They reached out to brush against his cheeks as he worked against the wind to quickly close the large windows. By the time he managed to secure the latches, his vision was dotted with rain droplets that splayed across his silver-rimmed round glasses.
Fumbling with the sleeves of his sleeping robe, Wooyoung lightly wiped the lenses clean whilst he made his way back to where the ruined letter laid. Staring at the mass of harsh ink smears across majority of the previously neat lines, he gingerly reached out to grab the papers.
Then came a soft knock on the door.
“Wooyoung, is everything alright?” a deep dulcet voice spoke from the other side.
“Y-Yes, I was jus– please, come in.”
Wooyoung turned to face the doorway just in time to see it swing open, revealing the ever empyreal-looking aristocratic owner of Rosentine Mansion where he was currently residing at. Adorned with a beige embroidered silk sleeping robe and a faint smile, Yeosang stepped soundlessly in to the room.
“Sorry if I disturbed your sleep, there was a bit of a mishap…” said Wooyoung, gesturing to the mess on the escritoire with a sheepish look. The windows started rattling once more which drew Yeosang’s attention towards the balcony.
“No need to worry. Was it the wind?” he asked, walking over with the intention to check the latches.
Wooyoung nodded, “it’s rather blustery tonight.”
Yeosang hummed as he peered through the curtains, looking out to the gloomy darkness where he could barely make out the glowing street lamps through the rain.
“The rain will pass after tonight, storms don’t tend to linger around here for too long. At least it’s cleared up the fog a little for now.”
An involuntary shudder went down Wooyoung’s spine at the mention of the fog. He quickly learnt within the first few days of his stay, more often than not, the streets became foggy after dusk once the sun has gone to slumber and the moon awakes. Wooyoung wasn’t fond of how his mind would wander to think of what might be lurking within the fog, and so he makes a conscious effort to never stare too long from his windows. Too afraid that one evening he might find fiendish eyes staring right back at him.
“You speak as if the weather has a mind of its own.”
“Oh? Have you never thought of that possibility before?”
The ambiguity of Yeosang’s smile certainly didn’t help Wooyoung in trying to decipher whether the aristocrat was being serious or not with that question. Then again, Wooyoung had somewhat gotten used to the eccentricity within the mansion; especially when his own cousin is just of that calibre along with the rest of the residents.
However everyone he’s met so far have been nothing short of pleasant and accommodating, even the brutally honest groundskeeper who was particularly protective over his fruit trees.
“Please let me know if you require any more candles.”
Wooyoung diverted his attention back to the present, only noticing then that Yeosang had gone round to dim the lights within the lamps.
“And…” pausing, Yeosang turned towards the half empty ink pot and stained papers, “Perhaps it’s best to leave that for tomorrow. You’re due to wake up at dawn if you wish to make it on time to Seonghwa’s shop, you know how he can be like with tardiness.”
“You’re right,” said Wooyoung, with a tired sigh.
“I’ll leave you to it then. Goodnight Wooyoung,” giving the room a once over and deeming nothing else was out of place, Yeosang left just as quietly as he arrived before.
“Goodnight Yeosang.”
That night, Wooyoung fell asleep under the comfort of his duvet on the 4-poster bed. Dreaming of flowing ink, swirling fog and the echoes of thunder from the depths of his mind.
“Do be careful Mr Jung!”
Wooyoung still wasn’t used to being addressed so formally by the townspeople, it wasn’t this sophisticated back at his previous home in Rookhaven. But he had no time to dwell on that as he hastily dusted the dirt off his taupe trousers and gave a courteous nod before continuing on with sprinting his way to the shop.
Cheeks tinged with a rosy hue and not just from the chilly air. After tripping and face-planting onto the gravel path right in front of the Mayor surely proved to be an embarrassing start to his morning. He raced past the magnificent fountain of the dancing naiads in the town square; where the granite sign that sat on the top tier engraved with bold letters of gold read; ‘ALDERFELL – welcome thee to a pleasant stay, otherwise be on your merry way.’
Tucked in the corner of Étoile Lane was Alderfell’s main apothecary shop that Wooyoung was headed towards. He entered through the back gates to ‘Drops of Aurora’ and almost immediately, the fluttering of wings reached his ears. Soon his shoulders were claimed as a perching spot by the shop’s inhabitants. Hummingbirds of sunset shades excitedly chirped their welcome, making Wooyoung giggle as he placed his leather satchel aside.
A few of them had already begun gathering his hair in a loose ponytail and looping a ribbon around it. The first time this ever happened he was left flabbergasted and didn’t quite know what to make of it. By now he’s accepted the hummingbirds were simply highly intelligent and perceptive.
Even if they had an odd glow around their forms.
When he brought it up with the Master Healer all he got was a teasing, “Shall I send for the oculist to come examine your glasses?”
Wooyoung huffed at the memory, taking out a glass vial from his satchel that was filled with light amber-coloured liquid. Grabbing one of the spare ceramic bowls from the shelves, he placed it by the window sill where the morning rays were slowly trickling in and poured out the liquid. The hummingbirds gave cheerful chirps and took turns taking sips of the sweet nectar that Wooyoung had harvested from the new batch of bell purple valdeisses.
Smiling fondly at the scene, he left them to their treat and went to grab his work apron off the wall hanger before walking through the connecting archway to the main section of the shop.
“Ah Wooyoung, nice to see you’ve made it.”
Wooyoung felt his soul jumped. Releasing a silent yell, he blinked owlishly at his mentor who was unexpectedly early and already pouring lavender tea into two vintage floral tea cups by the counter. His almost-silver hair that had been meticulously styled to one side, faintly glimmered under the light.
“Good morning Seonghwa, I’m sor–“
Wooyoung was interrupted by his own stomach letting out an unbashful rumble. There was silence, in which Wooyoung wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground before deep chuckling filled the air.
“Oh my, did you skip out on breakfast my young apprentice?” asked Seonghwa, a knowing look in his glacial eyes.
“I may have woke up later than usual this morning…and rushed right out the door to get here.”
“You’re lucky that Hongjoong insisted I bring these along then,” Seonghwa pushed a brown paper bag across the counter towards Wooyoung. Inside was an assortment of berries and cream cheese pastries, still having that freshly-baked scent had Wooyoung salivating.
“He was in one of his baking moods and next thing I knew he whipped up half a dozen batch too many. As the saying goes…sharing is caring.”
“Thank you, please tell Hongjoong for me that I’m very thankful for this too!”
Wooyoung felt a warmth stirring within. Both from the fond expression his mentor displayed as he talked about his beloved and from the simple yet kind gesture of looking out for Wooyoung’s wellbeing.
The whimsical ambience of the shop continued for the rest of the morning, especially when the mellow sound of a piano came through the radio speakers. Seonghwa hummed along to the melody and footsteps swaying between the counter and shelves. Wooyoung tried not to snicker out loud and hid his grin behind the bunch of mountain ifliums that he was tasked with deseeding.
What a rare sight it was for him to see the softer side of his normally strict mentor.
“What happened to your previous apprentice?” Wooyoung remembered asking with curiosity. Wondering if it was the pressure of the work itself as he knew Seonghwa’s way of teaching left little room for play – only because the nature of being a healer required immense knowledge and skills that can’t simply be absorbed overnight. And Seonghwa expected no less than his best, pushing Wooyoung to where he knows his capabilities could take him to.
“This just wasn’t the place for them, which was a pity because they had potential…”
Wooyoung felt there were unspoken double meanings underneath that simple answer, but decided to not push for it. Instead he dedicated his time and energy in to learning when he found himself growing to genuinely enjoy this area of expertise. The move from his previous mundane life was unplanned but he didn’t regret taking up the opportunity; perhaps this was the change he never knew he needed, until now.
It was when a chime came from the tall grandfather clock at midday that the hummingbirds noisily came chittering and flapping their wings around the Master Healer and apprentice. Seonghwa had been demonstrating to Wooyoung how to finely slice evergreen opier roots for a healing elixir when they were interrupted by the commotion.
“Hush, one at a time. What’s all the fuss about?”
A marigold coloured hummingbird with speckled spots came to land on Seonghwa’s outstretch hand, some of the others making Wooyoung’s shoulders and head their perching spots once again. Wooyoung stared at his mentor who paid attention to the little bird’s rapid chirping, pondering if Seonghwa was a bird whisperer on the side or by some sorcery if he actually understood the bird.
Then the bell to the entrance jingled, effectively drawing everyone’s attention towards the doors.
“That must be our visitor, Wooyoung would you please let them in.”
Must be an important visitor if it had the hummingbirds excited, or so Wooyoung thought when he swung the dark oak doors open. Only to be met with an empty space, confusion taking over as he looked around.
A sharp yip caused him to cast his gaze downwards.
“Um…Seonghwa? There’s a….”
The little silver fox stared back up at Wooyoung, head tilting to the side and fluffy tail swishing lazily. It let out another sharp yip before proceeding to walk right through the entrance and in to the shop.
Wooyoung scrambled to move out of the way, still utterly confused but not wanting to risk unintentionally stepping on the creature…and was that an ornate scroll container slung around its body?
“Don’t be alarmed, this is one of the town’s messenger.”
What an odd term for a postman, if Wooyoung could even call it that. He watched the silver fox jump up lithely on to the stool and greedily took the chin scratches from Seonghwa before nudging the small container towards Seonghwa’s hands.
“Thank you for coming by to deliver this. Here, for your afternoon tea,” said Seonghwa, pinching one of the extra pastries and offering it to the silver fox. As it left ‘Drops of Aurora’ with its sweet snack, Wooyoung swore the creature winked at him right before it leapt back outside. He really hoped he wasn’t losing his mind already, closing the doors and rubbing his eyes at an attempt to calm his nerves from the small oddities he’s observed throughout the day so far.
He shuffled back over to where his mentor was already reading the paper parchment he retrieved from the container.
“Seonghwa, what’s The Twin Moons festival?” asked Wooyoung with curiosity, after taking a glance.
The sheer look of surprise and raising of eyebrows fleeted across Seonghwa’s face, entirely missed by Wooyoung since he still had his eyes on the parchment. To Seonghwa, the written text was common Elvish that he was fluent in understanding – but to anyone who Alderfell has yet to accept would’ve been foreign script.
And yet, Wooyoung was patiently waiting for an answer he shouldn’t even have known to inquire about in the first place.
Placing down the iron pot in the middle of the dining table, Wooyoung felt a great sense of achievement. The hearty venison stew with a mixture of herbs from Jongho’s garden (with his permission of course, Wooyoung wouldn’t risk the groundskeeper’s wrath) had steam rising and the aroma of spices, rosemary and juniper berries filled the room.
His cooking ability had grown immensely after his arrival, having found out that the mansion’s kitchen was hardly in use; simply putting it that –
“…there aren’t any ingredients? At all?”
“Well, nobody here really cooks.”
“How in the hell did you all survive till now?!”
Wooyoung took it upon himself to make sure that the pantry was stocked and everyone had some form of substantial food at least. Yeosang would remark that it’d give him an excuse to bring out the fancier gold plated cutlery sets since the whole group would gather together for dinner whenever Wooyoung cooked.
“Something smells delectable in here!” announced a tall figure with a cheery voice and an even cheerier smile.
Yeosang had just finished placing the last gold fork down when Yunho walked in to the dining room along with his fellow gentle giant, both already in their work attire and carrying over-cluttered folders. A careless yawn and the dishevelled fiery red hair gave a good indication that Mingi had just awoken from slumber. Wooyoung was aware that both worked predominantly throughout the night at Alderfell’s Observatory, hence their abnormal sleeping schedules. He once made a passing joke that Mingi could very well be a vampire with the rarity of seeing him during the daytime hours, which made Jongho snort and comment about the, “lack of imagination…such a cliché thought.”
A small basket of ruby red apples and plums was placed on the other side of table as everyone took their seats. “Been feeling rather generous lately and these were ripe for the picking,” said Jongho casually, subtly puffing his chest out.
“Aww, he really does have a heart after all.”
“I will not hesitate to leave the cheese in your room again and let the remu– I mean rats find their way to it.”
“You wouldn’t…Yeosang would never allow you to do something so cruel!”
“Please do not involve me in this.”
The high-pitched laughter escaped Wooyoung’s mouth and he held his sides for support. The light-hearted bickering reminded him of his family back home and how boisterous the atmosphere would get. It made him smile till his cheeks hurt because in good company, he felt less alone.
“We should start eating before the stew gets cold, wouldn’t want Wooyoung’s hard work go to waste now would we?”
Among the clinking of cutlery against ceramic bowls, Wooyoung heard his name being called by Yunho, “Oh! Before I forget…these are for you. Yeosang mentioned you needed new paper to finish your letter and I have abundant in stacks lying around for the taking. I’ll be sending mail back to my family too, would you like for me to post yours off tomorrow morning?”
Wooyoung’s mind reeled back to the previous night’s mishap and promptly made a mental note to rewrite the letter after dinner. Or else his mother would surely worry her way into bombarding Yunho next with letters about her son’s lack of response. Wooyoung felt that same warmth from before engulfing his heart and starts to think, as he reached out with grateful hands, that maybe he’s found his new home here after all.
The Twin Moons festival turned out to be longer than just a day’s worth of celebration, rather it went on for two whole weeks. Wooyoung had been slightly overwhelmed at the start, even more so when visitors from smaller neighbouring towns poured in for the festivities. Alderfell came alive at night where Wooyoung got to witness the unveiling of the moons as the clouds parted and stars shone like little diamonds bedazzling the darkened sky.
“Yeosang! Look at the colour!”
And what Wooyoung found more astounding than the two giant azure orbs up above was that Yeosang had voluntarily left the mansion to accompany him down to the festival. He’s never really seen Yeosang leave the grounds of the mansion, unless he’s done so whenever Wooyoung had been at work, so being able to spend time with him outside was an enjoyable change. Wooyoung saw a couple of familiar faces in the crowds, notably Hongjoong who provided music for the townspeople; skilled fingers flying across the keys of the piano situated under the elegant gazebo and sweet low suave tunes enticed the crowd to slow dance the night away.
He could definitely see how Seonghwa became so enamoured with Hongjoong in the first place. If his charismatic presence wasn’t a big enough charm already than his music from the soul certainly was the final hook.
On the 3rd day, Wooyoung found out about the significance of moonflowers and why the entire town was decorated with them.
“Has anyone told you of Alderfell’s legend yet? It’s said that this land used to be occupied by the King’s bravest knights who defended against intruders. The fiercest knight left standing fought battle after battle, even after his head fell. Now in spirit, that same knight continues to guard this town. Rumour has it that in the wee hours of midnight you may hear the galloping of hooves in the distance or even catch a glimpse of a rider cloaked in black on a crimson-eyed noble steed if you’re courageous enough to venture out to the woodlands. The moonflowers we display are a tribute for our guardian!”
By the end of that Wooyoung was left with a copious amount of words to process and a, “…to guard this town from what?” at the tip of his tongue.
It wasn’t till the 10th day that Wooyoung got a cryptic answer of sorts to his question. Yunho and Mingi decided it was their turn to take Wooyoung down to the town square for the night, Yeosang opting to stay back at the mansion. They even managed to rope Jongho along who easily became distracted by the wood chopping competition and didn’t hesitate to sign up for it. Yunho introduced Wooyoung a local favourite drink, Duchess’ Crystal, which was a crystal clear liquid with an iridescent tinge and tasted like extremely sweetened blueberries. However there was a sting similar to that of drinking vodka when it hit the back of his throat.
Well into the night, a happy buzz tingling all over, Wooyoung asked Yunho what Alderfell was being guarded from.
“Oh my dear cousin, why there are many things! From deep within the woods, crooks and crannies…foul beasts that roam…fiends that lure with deceitful mimicry” Yunho spoke with a dramatic air.
Mingi slung an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, having gotten bolder with affection the more he drank. “Just remember this – do not always trust the voice that calls your name especially if you hear the clicking. Do not turn around, do not look and if by heavens’ grace you get a chance to…run!” he whispered to Wooyoung.
As inebriate as Wooyoung might have been in the moment, the chilling message stuck firm with him since. Logic scoffed at the ridiculous elaboration, yet intuition told him to take heed of this warning.
Fate sure had a peculiar way of working and Alderfell decided it was time for the final mask to be taken off.
“Oh shit…shit…bloody hell...” Wooyoung muttered like a mantra with each hasty step he took along the dirt pathway through the woodlands. He had spent all afternoon collecting medicinal herbs, mushrooms and flowers to restock some of Seonghwa’s ingredient jars that he completely lost track of time. Straying quite a distance inside where the rarer plants were found in abundance meant being able to fill his basket to the brim; though at the cost of how far he was from the safety of the town’s borders.
The sun was beginning to dip real low and Wooyoung could only hope that he’d reach back before the last sunray disappeared below the horizon.
He most certainly did not miss the fog that was currently creeping over the ground steadily chasing after his feet. Much to his delight there was the absence of it during the entirety of the time when the Twin Moons reigned the nights. Nerves were settled then but now, alone and stuck outside past the curfew set him right on edge.
Wooyoung held the basket closer and concentrated on moving forwards, refusing to allow his eyes to waver from the path ahead. The woods became eerily still and silence encompassed his surroundings, save for the crunching of leaves under his leather boots. Any other day he’d welcome the tranquillity with open arms. At present he was desperate for sound, for anything to drive away the feeling of being watched.
“I just hope someone will continue to feed the darling cat if I were to meet my demise here…” Wooyoung mumbled out loud, trying to elevate some of the tension by attempting to make light of his current predicament. He would miss the cat with gorgeous cerulean eyes that’s taken a liking to accompany him on the walk back to the mansion after work. It took him almost a solid week of many fresh salmon slices, sweet praises and patience to befriend the feline.
Just as the last light started to dwindle, Wooyoung finally caught sight of the familiar large wooden gate that he entered from. To hell with the uneven ground and risks of rolling ankles, Wooyoung was about to take off sprinting the last leg of the pathway.
“Wooyoung?”
He halted in his movement so abruptly that he nearly toppled over. The sudden voice that cut right through the silence took him by surprise.
“Seongh–“
Wooyoung paused from turning around to the sound of his mentor’s voice. Wait a minute…there had to be a mistake; Wooyoung knew for a fact that Seonghwa was out of town with Hongjoong and wasn’t due back till tomorrow. So why was he suddenly hearing…
“Do not always trust the voice that calls your name!” rang loudly in his mind.
His stomach dropped, limbs locked and frozen as sheer dread filled his veins.
And then he heard it.
Clicking.
Almost like sharp thin nails against glass, a heavy drag also followed. Conjuring up an image in Wooyoung’s mind – a mass of broken bones moving in unison, grating disjointed parts and the snapping of unhinged jaws at irregular intervals.
“Wooyoung.”
Came Yunho’s voice this time, luckily not sounding right from behind Wooyoung but not too far off either. The time he spent staring at the ground as he internally willed his body to move, he took notice of how thick the fog had become.
Each second that ticked by the clicking became louder and each time a different voice from someone he knew within Alderfell called his name. A part of him wanted to haul rocks whatever cursed being it was, angry that it had the audacity to mimic his friends with sinister intentions. But that would require turning around and he remembers, as clear as day, Mingi’s warning to not look.
At all.
The mimicry itself was perfect, however it felt off.
When the raspy breathing and rancid stench of decay hit his senses, his body jolted and legs broke out of its frozen state.
“RUN!”
An inhumane wail unleashed that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Which was more than enough for Wooyoung’s survival instincts to take off, kicking up the dirt and leaving the monstrosity behind. He could hardly see where his boot-clad feet landed as he sprinted, moonlight only being able to guide him where the fog hasn’t consumed. But he couldn’t care less so long as the distance between him and the wooden gate was diminishing.
Much to his dismay, it sounded like he was being followed as the clicking of bones were sent into a manic state and getting louder. Wooyoung yelled his throat hoarse, weaving in-between the trees and he was oh so close to grabbing the sturdy gate to leap over…
He lost his footing and fell, dropping the basket (he miraculously still had in his hold all this time) in the process. Something was painfully squeezing his right ankle. Looking downwards he had to bring a hand to cover his mouth, bile rising and threatening to spill at the sight. A solemn grey coloured…hand…if Wooyoung could even call it that, with unnaturally long spindly fingers each had unforgivingly sharp bone white talons protruding out from their joints.
“WOOYOUNG, HELP ME.”
“NO! STOP, GET THE HELL OFF ME!”
Wooyoung was blindly kicking in the direction of the ‘Yeosang’ voice that wailed, feeling the crooked fingers clamped down harder and he was pretty certain it was going to leave a nasty bruise for days. Too focused on trying to get his feet out of the creature’s vice grip he didn’t pick up on a distinct neigh and sound of hooves charging across the ground.
It all came at a blur for Wooyoung.
One minute he was thrashing about and then he was sailing through the air, having been flung by a mighty force. Luck was still on his side when his landing was cushioned by a pile of foliage. His ankle freed from the death trap.
“Be gone, you vile creature. Go back to the depths of the Abyss from which you came!” a disembodied voice bellowed through the woods.
Wooyoung’s eyes was on high alert for he did not recognise the commanding voice. He rolled over to his side where he heard metallic sounds and piercing screeches of a battle unfolding.
He swore upon the heavens for the second time that night. Not entirely sure if he was stuck in a twisted dream or that Alderfell’s legend was far more real than fantasy.
“I ought to start believing in ghost stories…”
Wooyoung watched as the headless rider strike his luminous blade fiercely down on the creature. One of its several elongated limbs made a clawed swipe at the rider’s steed, to which the shadowy stallion reared defensively on hind legs. Using the window of opportunity, the creature dashed in an attempt to flee though it didn’t make it very far.
“Close your eyes.”
The voice returned with a firm yet gentler undertone. It took Wooyoung a whole 30 seconds to realise that the instruction was directed at him and he followed right through; knowing enough to not question a legendary figure who had just saved his life. In the few milliseconds before he blocked out the view entirely, he witnessed the rider’s hands being engulfed in purple flames along with his sword, the blade itself unlocking in sections and extending to resemble more of a whip.
There was a cacophony of metal crushing bone, wail-screeches filling up Wooyoung’s eardrums, a sudden searing heat blowing against his skin and the reciting of an ancient language before silence took over again.
Wooyoung let out a deep breath.
He was alive, he was breathing and his heart still beating.
Just to be cautious he peeked one eye open, deeming it was safe to open the other and shook his head slightly to re-focus his sight in the dark. The headless rider stood by what Wooyoung assumed was the monster from before, now nothing more than a crumbling husk. Small purple embers ate away at it sending bits of ash floating off into the empty air.
Now under the spotlight of the moon, Wooyoung could get a better look at the headless rider. He was expecting a gory wound where the head was meant to be, instead black smoky tendrils coiled calmly in place. A heavy-duty cloak sat upon lightweight armour, leather gloves, pants and sabatons all of which were in an obsidian black. Wooyoung thought the rider would’ve looked rather regal, headless or not.
The stallion let out a low grunt signalling a reminder that they still had company.
Wooyoung stumbled to his feet, wincing slightly at his swollen ankle, when the headless rider sheathed the sword and turned to make his way towards the young healer apprentice. The sea of fog seemed to part and retreat wherever the headless rider stepped.
Up close both figures seemed to tower over Wooyoung but he didn’t shrink back in fear. Not when the stallion with mounted spiked armour and glowing crimson eyes stared into his soul nor when the headless rider quietly regarded him in his formidable presence. They didn’t pose a threat…or at least Wooyoung didn’t feel like they did.
“Your leg…is it hurting?”
So he had noticed Wooyoung keeping his weight off his right side
Now that the headless rider wasn’t fending off terror entities, he spoke in a warmer honeyed voice. Another aspect Wooyoung wasn’t expecting of the mythical figure. He could imagine the rider’s head tilting down to survey his leg as he asked the question.
“Ah…yeah, my ankle’s not in the best shape at the moment.”
The headless rider descended down on one knee and held out a gloved hand towards Wooyoung’s right foot.
“May I?”
Wooyoung mutely nodded and balancing on his left foot, he allowed the headless rider to hold his other to inspect the injury. The same hands that wielded a sword to slay were handling Wooyoung with utter care.
“It doesn’t seem to be broken, but best to get it treated soon. Come.”
A confused noise escaped Wooyoung when the headless rider beckoned him closer to the saddle.
“You came from Alderfell did you not?”
Another nod.
“It’ll be much quicker to return by horse than on feet, these woods aren’t safe at this hour…as you now are well aware of.”
Wooyoung felt bewildered. Only just a week ago, he found out about the legendary Dullahan and now said legend was planning to stroll through town to escort him back?
“Are you allowed to?” was what Wooyoung wanted to ask, instead he settled for, “But you don’t even know where in Alderfell I live.”
An amused chuckle resounded all around.
“I trust that you ought to know the way back home, little healer. You’ll be my guide for tonight.”
Wooyoung gawked at where the smoky tendrils were intertwining together, not doubt there was a grin hidden somewhere in there.
How did the headless rider know about Wooyoung’s connection with healer’s work? How was he being so…nonchalant about, well everything? Was he always this approachable towards other townspeople that may have encountered him? Did they even know that Alderfell’s legend actually exists? Questions upon questions that Wooyoung would demand answers for if he wasn’t already so drained from his near-death experience. Should he ever get the chance to meet his saviour again, he’d pester him about it then.
For now, Wooyoung was ready to head back home.
‘Is the legend really true?”
“Might I ask you to please clarify, which part of?”
“You being a knight…and that you’ve been guarding this town, or rather, land since you lost…your…”
“My head? You’re allowed to say that, I take no offence. After all I’ve had a century or two to get used to this new form.”
“Wow, you’re practically an ancient!”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. To answer your question, yes. It seems like even after death, my guardianship of this land still remains.”
“…The thing, back from before…is that the reason why Alderfell has the curfew?”
“There are others besides Hollowsworns that come from The Abyss to hunt after dark. The curfew is a precaution. Alderfell has its own ways–powerful ways–to protect its people.”
“Like yourself?”
“You could say that.”
“You truly are the bravest. Do you have a name Sir Knight?”
The shadowy stallion let out a loud snort.
“So are you, and apologies for not introducing myself sooner. You may call me San, Choi San.”
“You have my deepest gratitude for saving my life Sir Choi. My name’s Jung Wooyoung!”
“Just…San is quite enough, Wooyoung. You’re very welcome.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is it because it makes you sound old?”
To say the residents back at Rosentine Mansion were worrying their heads off was an understatement. Yunho was ready to lead a search party out for Wooyoung even if it meant breaking the rules. Jongho argued that was a counterproductive plan since no one knew exactly where Wooyoung had even wandered off to.
“What if something were to happen to you? That’ll be another added issue!” With Seonghwa being absent, they couldn’t turn to their level-headed elder for help.
It was a painful waiting game.
When the clopping of hooves and spectral guardian came into view from the porch, both Yeosang and Jongho instantaneously leapt up from where they had been sitting on the stairs.
“Yunho! Mingi! Get out here now, Wooyoung’s back!” hollered Jongho, sticking his head through the front door.
Meanwhile Yeosang had ran down ahead, oil lamp swinging in his hand, to fling open the front gates.
“Is he…?!”
“He’s safe, just in slumber. Understandably so.”
Wooyoung had fallen asleep against San’s chest on the ride back, head cradled under where San’s chin would’ve been and letting out soft snores.
“OH THANK MIHTOS!”
“HE’S ALIVE!’
“Shush! Or do you want to wake up the entire town?”
Jongho and Yunho managed to squeeze past Yeosang out on to the street. They worked to slowly lift Wooyoung’s sleeping form off the saddle and into Yunho’s arms so he could carry him back inside. San untied Wooyoung’s basket (that he made sure to recover, “I worked hard and nearly died for those!”) from his saddle bag and passed it over to Mingi.
Everyone thanked San profusely, Jongho even sneaking an apple from his pocket to feed the stallion which bowed in appreciation.
“San…”
The small whine ceased the group’s chatter, all eyes turned towards the figure curled up in Yunho’s arms. One of Wooyoung’s arm reached out languidly for San’s gloved ones. The Dullahan reciprocated to envelop Wooyoung’s hand with his.
“…thank you, again”
“Sleep well Wooyoung, may dreams allow you to rest properly tonight,” San responded softly with a light squeeze to Wooyoung’s hand.
Mingi followed Yunho back inside to help him get Wooyoung to bed while Jongho and Yeosang stayed to see San off.
“He can hear me, just like you two.”
“Who’s looking forward to seeing Seonghwa’s face tomorrow when he returns and learn of what’s happened?”
“I’m relieved that Wooyoung is here to stay, I’m growing rather fond of the young mister.”
“Do prepare Wooyoung for the discussion...”
“More like a history lesson!”
“...and please check on his ankle as soon as you can, the Hollowsworn got there before I did.”
San waited till Yeosang and Jongho disappeared behind the mansion doors before manoeuvring the reigns of his horse back in the direction he came from. It has been an eventful night and the Dullahan was intrigued by the young apprentice. There was much more to Jung Wooyoung than meets the eye – much like Alderfell and he hoped to cross paths with him soon again.
A purr stopped San and his steed in their tracks.
“There you are my dear, so this is where you’ve roamed to.”
A gloved hand patted at the rear and the cerulean-eyed cat claimed the spot on the horseback, nestling comfortably behind its master.
Somewhere else in a well-kept tomb beneath the winged stone sculpture, a dimpled smile forms on a serene face resting on a pillow of moonflowers. The head lets out a contented sigh.
#kwritersworldnet#atzinc#kdiarynet#kpopuniversenet#ateez au#ateez oneshot#ateez fantasy au#fantasy au#ateez imagines#ateez writing#jung wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#choi san#ateez san#woosan au#park s#ateez seonghwa#kim hongjoong#Ateez hongjoong#kang yeosang#ateez yeosang#jeong yunho#ateez yunho#song mingi#ateez mingi#choi jongho#ateez jongho#ateez blurbs#ateez fluff#ateez angst
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The Poem Series (23) Night, Street, Lamp, Drugstore– John Wick
Previous Parts!!!
After the wonderful weekend, the college reopens. Skylar and Diana are sitting together in the cafeteria sipping their coffees. Skylar notices the changed mood of Diana.
“You seem extra happy”
“I am.. “ Diana said smiling.
“Care to elaborate..?”
“I moved in with John..”
“WHAT?? For REAL???”
“Yes.”
“Havent you known him for like only a week?”
“Yes”
“So… that’s fast even by my standards”
“The situation we have is different.”
“Details please”
“I cannot tell much”
“all right.. So how is he in bed”
“SKY!!!”
“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question”
“We haven’t done IT yet”
“WHATTT?? What do you do then?”
“We did…. Have done……..other stuff” Diana said with reddened cheeks, hiding behind her coffee.
“…and…?”
“Skylar, not a college appropriate topic of discussion”
“No ones around”
“I am not talking about this here.”
“Okay lets go to the club today. Its been two weeks, we haven’t been there”
“You know what, yes. Its been a while. Lets go to the club”
“Will you sing?”
“I am not doing that again, sky!!”
“Oh come on, you have such a wonderful voice”
“Lets See. See you after class here?”
“Done!” Skylar and Diana part ways to their respective classes.
John, in his house is sitting with Dog. He has made some calls about Borgov. New information has merged and John is not happy about it. He will need to go again, but this time he is more confident. He has trained Diana over the past week in self-defense, come combat skills. He will also teach her to fire a gun, not a big one, a pocket one. He has some models in mind, like Bond Arms Backup, Ruger LC9 or Smith & Wesson Bodyguard. Diana will never have to worry or look over her shoulder again. As he gently rubs Dog’s back his phone chimes. It’s a message from Diana.
“Hey John, don’t come to pick me up today”
John furrows his brows and messages back.
“Why? Is everything okay Diana?”
Yeah, everything’s fine.Just going out to the Nightimes Funtimes with my girls”
“When will you be back?”
“I am not sure. 😉”
“I will come to pick you up at the club, just call me.”
“Stop worrying so much John, I am not a baby”
“You are my baby, love”
“John, I promise I will be safe. I’ll send you pics”
“Love you”
“Love you too John <3 <3”
John turns to dog and speaks. Looks like Persephone is not coming soon tonight boy, wanna come with me to bind some books, Dog barks. John realizes how his life has changed in a span of a couple of weeks. Before, he was not sure of living at all, now he had started to imagine his life with a woman. She was not just any woman, she was tremendously talented, well-read, and was not afraid to call on John for his wrongdoings. He liked her assertion and honesty and the fact that she was not even in the slightest bit afraid of his work. She had accepted his love with open arms and heart and that made John feel humane, a feeling that decades of being an assassin and killing people had taken away from him. He had a couple of hours to go to the club and pick her up. He also had to finish the book binding of the book tonight. Only little work was left, then the glue and binding would take a few days to dry. Diana’s birthday was in two weeks and he wanted to gift it to her. He almost felt jealous of her being out with her friends. He wanted nothing more than to keep her to himself without any interference, but he knows that Diana is an independent woman and he would not like to change that. John also had got her something special. He was not sure but he had known that women loved jewelry. He had got Diana a two carat pink diamond stud in a white gold chain. The rare pink diamond was for the unique and rare woman that Diana was.
John also opened a smaller velvet box, and held it open. He hazed at the five carat princess cut diamond that he had planned to give her when the time was right. He vowed, it will be soon. With that, John kept the two boxes in the top drawer of his work table . He switched on the lamp and began to put final touches on the book.
“To Diana beating us all in the game of love” A drunk Skylar yells on the club table.
“Hear Hear!!!” joined Jennifer and Anna.
“Good God!”
“Come on Diana, live a little”
“She is drunk on looooooove” stutters Anna
“We should send John a video”
“No that’s a bad idea”
“Lets make him jealous!!!
“NO! please”
“oh no one is asking you D”
John is working in his basement on Diana’s book. He is lowly humming one of the Schumann’s symphonies. He is lost n work when his phone chimes again, its from Diana. From the notification of it, it appears it’s a video. John plays it and to his restlessness its Skylar, sending a video from her phone. There are two other girls, whom John does not recognize but they were there when John had first heard Diana sing. The video goes on to see a very drunk Skylar speaking.
“Hey Mr. Wick, guess whooooo…its meeee… Sky!!! We have kidnapped your guuuurl frind … and if you don’t come, we will send her to…….that guy” Skylar turns the phone camera towards a random guy at the bar. “……that’s where you also met her……didn’t ya!!! Mr wick!!! Skylar giggles” The video ends.
John first smiles. Diana’s friends are nice and good. She needs this. The last few weeks must have been exhausting, the attack, the sudden change in living conditions. But then it strikes John, he didn’t see Diana in the video, he sees it a few times. Wait, was she going to the man at the bar? John’s posture changes. Diana loves him, she isn’t going to flirt with a random man just like that. Will She? But that man is normal. He can give Diana a normal life. And just like that John is over powered by some feeling of jealousy over an imaginary man. He picks up his keys and goes off to the club.
Diana comes back from the washroom and sees Skylar and her other friends laughing and giggling. She sits down with them. It feels right to let go some times.
“Sing something for us Diana”
“Oh my God! NO”
“Yeah, you have such a great voice”
“No No No…”
“Oh come on Di, its such a dull night, its all Night, street, lamp, drugstore, A dull and meaningless light. Sing for us.”
“What do I Sing?”
Skylar suddenly notices, that John is standing on the entryway, he is probably looking for Diana and she knows if Diana sees him, she wont sing. SO immediately she says.
“Something Bob Dylan”
Diana takes a long sip of her whiskey and then goes up on the stage. “I hate you all” She murmurs.
John has reached the club. He also feels stupid coming here like this. But then his possessive and jealous side overtook his thinking, when it comes to Diana, it happens most often. So he decided he will sit in the corner, without disturbing the girls and drink. When Diana calls he will show up to pick her up. He wont embarrass her in front of her girl friends. When he entered, he looks around, and he sees Diana walking up on the stage. He smiles, the things that started it all. Her voice. Will she sing the same song? Maybe not, maybe, John cannot resist. He is almost thankful he came.
Diana takes the stage. And she sings.
The song (Please Listen, its awesome)
Diana finishes the song. The people are mesmerized. Diana feels shy, she wanted to sing blowin’ in the wind and then she thought of John and the song just came out. When she looks up from the stage, she sees John. Pupils Dilated, absolutely predatory gaze, looking taller and broader than he usually is, John was walking with some certainty towards her. Before she could say something, John picks her up from the stage, bridal style, and walks out, without caring who is looking.
John cannot control now. So sexy, so tempting, that sultry voice, that song, those words. She was calling him. It was for him that she sang. But this time, John is not going to let her vanish after the song. Of all the things, why did she have to sing this song. Then the people, the people at the club, they all were looking at her. She is mine stop looking at her he thought. At that instant, John wanted to kill each and everyone in the club. He wont, Diana is his and he will make sure that she knows it too. So without any inhibition, he walks towards the stage, without any thought, he picks her up and takes her out of the club. He doesn’t care of her friends are looking. Yeah, Diana is his. Diana is totally wrecked in embarrassment, she almost shrieks
“John!! What…What are you doing?”
No answer. John keeps walking.
“People are looking, put me down”
No answer. They have reached his car.
“JOHN!!!”
No answer. John bends his knee and opens the door of the car without putting Diana down. He then puts her on the car seat and secures the seat belt. He closes the car door almost runs to the other side and before Diana can even guess, he drives off in full speed.
“JOHN!!! What the HELL!!!
John turns his face slightly. He doesn’t say anything but his gaze leaves Diana in shivers and creates a wet pool between her legs. She almost whispers now,
“John, what are you doing?”
“I’ll make you my baby tonight, love”
Diana gasps.
#john wick#john wick fanfic#john wick x ofc#john wick x original character#john wick x original female character#john wick x reader#john wick x you#john wick x y/n#john wick imagine#john wick fanfiction#john wick fan#john wick fluff#fluff#the continental#continental#the boogeyman#boogeyman#baba yaga#keanu#keanu reeves#keanu reeves imagine#keanu reeves fluff#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves x you#keanu reeves x y/n#keanu reeves fanfiction#keanu reeves fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction
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Precious (One-Shot)
M/F Pairing: Y/N x Choi San (Ateez)
Warnings: language, alcohol use, stripping? (lol is that a warning?)
Genre: Action AU; Spy AU
Word Count: 7K
Summary: Choi San is one of the best investigators in PD Kim Hongjoong’s agency, especially when it comes to the baddest mafia gangs. However, despite the inherent risk of his job, nothing could shock him more than the discovery that his wife might be cheating on him with another man!
A/N: This is actually based on a scene from the movie True Lies. Oh, and go hard San, like damn! 👇
San understood the inherent risk of chasing down mafia gangs who always tried their best to test his patience, especially when it involved saving their own ass. However, it made his job much easier when the ones he targeted would quickly betray their own men without any hesitation. For example, when San first brought the agency’s newest scumbag into the interrogation room, he sat him down underneath the low-hanging lamp with his hands tied behind the chair. And San fully expected to encounter another stubborn punk who insisted that he didn’t know anything about the drug cartel that San was investigating. Of course, that would be utter bullshit, but San was also pleasantly surprised to find a man who was balling his eyes out while begging San to spare his life.
“What if I don’t think you deserve to live?” San asked the man, toying with the knife that he held in his hand.
“Please!” the man cried. “I’ll tell you anything!”
“Yeah? Who do you work for?”
“Kim! From the downtown shipyard,” the man said, spilling his secrets as freely as the tears that were falling down his greasy mug.
“That so?” San asked, circling around the man who whimpered when he could no longer see him.
“I’m being cooperative, sir, just cut me some slack!”
San laughed. “What’s Kim doing these days?”
“I don’t know! He’s messing around with some gang downtown, but they aren’t expecting a new shipment until this weekend.”
“What kind of shipment?”
“Cocaine, marijuana, heroin...the usual shit!”
“Who’s he selling to?”
“It’s just a couple of local dealers. He wants them to buy strictly from his organization.”
“Really?” San asked, humming thoughtfully to himself. “What time?”
“Midnight on the East Dock! There’s a boat coming in with the product!”
San sighed because he was somewhat disappointed that the asshole was so compliant. It meant that he couldn’t play with him using his favorite set of knives. “I guess I’ll let the rest of my men deal with you.”
San immediately started for the door, smirking when he could hear the guy calling out to him: “What do you mean!? I told you everything!”
He closed the door quietly, turning to look at his partner Wooyoung who was waiting expectantly with a cheap cup of coffee in hand. “Well?”
“Check the tape,” San said. “He spilled everything.”
“Hell, yeah, dude,” Wooyoung cheered. “I can finally go home before fucking midnight.”
San’s shoulders dropped as he checked the time. “Damn, that means I’m late.”
“Late?”
“My wife was throwing me some kind of birthday party tonight,” San said, already dreading the idea of facing Y/N’s disappointment when he returned home.
“Hey, I’m sure Y/N will understand,” Wooyoung said. “This happens all the time, right?”
San glared at his friend because that comment certainly wasn’t helpful. “Because I have to stay at work all the time.”
“Dude, seriously? Everything’s fine,” Wooyoung continued. “Let’s go tell Hongjoong the good news and then you can go home and make love to your wife or whatever.”
San rolled his eyes, but quietly acquiesced, and he followed Wooyoung as he led them both into the main control room. He was already waiting for them by the time they arrived, and Kim Hongjoong, despite his smaller stature, was one of the most intimidating men that San had ever met. Not only was he in charge of their private detective agency, but he also regularly tracked down some of the most ruthless gang members with ruthless accuracy, leading investigations with a confidence that defined his character.
Hongjoong also spent most of his time at the agency when he wasn’t participating in field work, and San offered him a generous nod as Wooyoung collapsed into one of the leather chairs. “Well?” Hongjoong asked, looking at San with a stern expression.
“He told me everything,” San said, smirking at a video of Park Seonghwa who had just entered the interrogation room on the screen monitor. He could see their unfortunate suspect pleading with Seonghwa as he attempted to slide the chair into the farthest corner of the room.
“Good,” Hongjoong replied. “He didn’t seem very aggressive.”
“He cried like a little bitch,” Wooyoung said.
“Anyway,” San interrupted. “I’m going home, Hongjoong. My wife is waiting for me.”
“Ah, well give her my best,” Hongjoong said, but San couldn’t help but frown at the comment because it was Hongjoong’s fault that his wife thought he was an insurance agent since they were undercover. Of course, San was also responsible because he wanted to keep his wife safe from the mafia gangs that they dealt with on a regular basis.
In any case, San bowed respectfully, and left the two men behind as Wooyoung launched into another story about his most recent exploit involving a girl from a bar downtown.
The lights were off when San finally entered his house, humming to himself because he wasn’t sure if his wife had gone to sleep. After all, she had made the time for his dinner at 9:00 PM, and San was several hours overdue. He could only hope that she hadn’t put too much effort into preparations, but that sort of wishful thinking was quickly blown away when he walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, baby,” San said, hesitating because he noticed that his wife had her arms crossed over her chest, sitting at the table where the remnants of San’s surprise birthday party were waiting in the form of a delectable cake and several neatly wrapped presents. “I’m sorry.” He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It was a long day.”
“That’s what you always say,” Y/N replied, and San knew that he was in trouble.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, but the words rang hollow in his own ears because San knew that there would be more nights like this in the future.
“I’m tired, San,” she replied, lowering her gaze to the floor. “We can talk about this later.”
San nodded, and his eyes followed his wife’s form as she trudged up the stairs with an absence of her usual exuberance. He groaned when he sat down at the table in her place, feeling his heart break at the beautiful decorations complimenting the natural elegance of their dining room. He knew that this couldn’t continue, and San needed to do something to convince Y/N that he still cared about her, even if that meant ignoring some of his work-related responsibilities.
Subsequently, the next morning San called the office and asked Wooyoung to handle his morning meetings. His friend protested at first, but San drove a hard bargain when he offered him free lunch for the remainder of the week. Wooyoung was suddenly much more accepting, and San was feeling excited about the suprise that he had planned for his wife. As such, he drove to Y/N’s office to surprise her for an impromptu date to the best restaurant in the city.
As he rode the elevator to the corresponding floor, San checked the time on his watch, smiling when he realized that he would catch Y/N right before she usually left for lunch. He also studied his appearance in the reflecting panels of the elevator, nodding once in reassurance when he stepped out into the hallway, enduring the endless maze of office cubicles to find Y/N’s desk. “Don’t blow this San,” he said to himself before walking in her direction.
He was almost there when he heard one of the assistants mention his wife’s name. “Y/N, your mystery man is on the line!”
San paused, faltering in his steps when he heard Y/N’s voice answer the phone call. “Hello? Mike?”
“Mike?” He whispered to himself, shuffling closer to overhear the remainder of the conversation.
“Today?” Y/N questioned. “Of course, I can meet you for lunch.” San swallowed hard, trying not to jump to conclusions. “I’d love that!” Y/N giggled. “I’ll see you then.”
San quickly darted into one of the empty cubicles, holding his breath when Y/N passed him on the way out of the office. His shoulders instantly deflated, and he could feel a bitter rage churning inside his stomach. “What the hell?” he cursed, reaching for his phone to call Wooyoung because he was nothing short of pissed off and nobody was safe from his wrath.
San watched from a distance as Wooyoung pulled up to the sidewalk, rolling down the window to greet San as he climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Hey, man,” Wooyoung said. “Welcome to the club. The same thing happened to me with wife number two, remember? She was a real piece of work.”
“But this is Y/N,” San argued, still shaken from the phone call. “She wouldn’t do this to me.”
“Hard to argue with the evidence,” Wooyoung said, shrugging like he wasn’t at all concerned. “Look, divorces are common these days. I’ll even let you crash on my couch.”
“It’s not going to happen,” San insisted. “There has to be something else.”
“What did you expect, San?” Wooyoung asked him. “You’re never there anymore.”
The brutal truth hit San like a freight train, and he fumbled with his seat-belt while holding out his cellphone. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not giving up on our marriage,” San said. “I’m fixing this before it gets any worse.”
Wooyoung’s eyes widened. “San, I don’t like that look on your face.”
“Relax,” San hissed, holding up the phone to his ear. He was pleased when one of the agency’s interns answered from the other end. “I’m coming back to the agency. I need someone to help me tap some phone lines.”
“What!” Wooyoung screeched, but San ignored him as he shot off a series of orders to the poor intern who probably had no idea why San was so angry.
“Do it now!” San growled, assaulting the end phone call button before glaring out the windshield.
“San, are you fucking insane?” Wooyoung gasped. “This is a blatant misappropriation of funds! If Hongjoong finds out...”
“He won’t,” San interrupted. “Besides, I’m not doing anything that could hurt the agency.”
“But you’re talking about spying on your wife!”
“It’s not spying.”
“What the hell is your definition of spying, San?”
“Look, I’m just trying to keep this under control,” San retorted. “I would think that my friend might support me.”
“I do support you, San, but this is taking things too far!”
“Just drive back to the agency,” San growled. “I’m tired of arguing.”
San was pleased when several interns greeted him at the main office of their agency’s building. “Mr. Choi, we have the phone wires tapped at the work location and home address that you gave us.”
“Good,” San said, ignoring the way that Wooyoung was trying to get his attention while they entered the recording room.
“San!” Wooyoung pouted, hurrying to match his friend’s pace. “This is insane!”
“Get me some tracking equipment,” San added, throwing the command to the intern who nodded.
“Tracking!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “You’re gonna follow her?”
“Also, make sure that Hongjoong doesn’t find out,” San said, and Wooyoung waved his hands wildly through the air.
“Earth to San! Doesn’t it seem suspicious when you can’t tell Hongjoong about this?”
“He’ll make a big deal out of nothing,” San replied, checking the monitors that were supposed to record his wife’s future phone conversations.
“Nothing? Does this qualify as anything less than treason!”
San turned to look at his frazzled friend, holding his hands behind his back. “I’ve got everything under control, okay? And I need you to bring the van to my house tonight. I can sneak out Y/N’s purse and we can stitch in the GPS.”
Wooyoung sighed. “Anything else, your majesty?”
“Less attitude would be nice,” San told him cheekily, leaving Wooyoung to fume quietly to himself. In the meantime, San had one of the interns help him load some equipment into his car, ignoring the curious looks that he received from the other agents. Because whenever they attempted to inquire about the equipment, San would lie and tell them that he was doing some reconnaissance work from home.
Which wasn’t that far from the truth.
Later that night, San made sure that he was home early, surprising Y/N when he walked inside to offer her a gentle kiss in greeting. “San!” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re home?”
“Is that a problem?” San questioned.
“N-no,” Y/N stuttered. “But I wasn’t expecting you until later.”
“Hmmm...” San grinned. “I’ll be upstairs in the shower. Unless you want to join me?”
Y/N gasped, and her cheeks filled with an adorable blush. “Dinner...”
“It’s alright,” San said. “We can always mess around later.”
Y/N managed a nod which was nothing short of endearing, and San was even more convinced that he needed to keep a closer eye on his wife.
Thereafter, once he finished helping Y/N clean their dishes, they both returned to the bedroom upstairs. San immediately fell across the bed, enjoying the way that his mattress felt against his back after so many long hours at work. He also studied Y/N from the corner of his eye, formulating his next plan of action.
“I thought that we could have lunch tomorrow,” San said, and Y/N paused in front of the mirror.
“Oh,” she said. “I wish I had known sooner, babe, I’ve already made plans with some of my friends.”
“Really?” San asked, keeping a close eye on Y/N when he reached over onto the nightstand to grab her purse. “That sounds like fun.”
“It’s been a while,” she responded, covering her face with a delicate mask that gave San the perfect opportunity to quietly retreat into the bathroom. He immediately found the window above the sink, opening it just enough to toss out Y/N’s purse to an awaiting Wooyoung who was completely drenched from the rain.
“Yeah, thanks,” Wooyoung retorted, and San paused until he was around the corner of the house before returning to the bedroom.
“I’ll be right back,” San said, but Y/N was still distracted by the mess that she had made of her face mask. San chuckled to himself, hustling down the stairs to fling open the front door.
Thankfully, the agency’s van was parked in the driveway, and San waited by the door for Wooyoung who shakily offered him the purse. “You know, there’s still an opportunity for us to give up on this ridiculous plan.”
However, San’s silencing glare spoke louder than words. “What?”
“I mean, the GPS is at the bottom!” Wooyoung replied, flinching when San slammed the door in his face.
In the meantime, San had re-entered the house with Y/N’s purse tucked under his coat, bringing it upstairs and returning it to its previous place on the nightstand. “Are you tried?” he asked Y/N, laying back down on the bed as he watched her.
“Yeah,” she said. “Do you have to be up early?”
“Not really,” San said, holding his breath as Y/N finally joined him on the bed. He carefully turned over on his side, dragging Y/N closer with one arm wrapped around her delicate waist. “You know,” he hesitated, “I feel really bad about coming home late.”
Y/N stiffened against his embrace. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s okay,” San said. “I should work on that. You deserve better.”
Y/N gave no acknowledgment of his comment. Instead, she muttered something about feeling exhausted because of work, and San simply nodded his head in response. “I love you, Y/N.”
However, Y/N didn’t offer anything in return, and San could feel his heart sinking low inside his chest.
When San arrived to work the next morning, he decided to finally address the mounting pile of paperwork on his desk. It was mostly just an excuse to remain in the office because one of the interns, who he had assigned to watch over the phone lines, might come to him with developing information concerning Y/N. Thus, San was certain that he needed to remain on standby since he might receive an update at any moment.
Eventually, the work was starting to become tedious, and he glared at the clock when lunchtime rolled around, wondering if his wife was going on some kind of lunch date with her “mystery” man. But to San, he wasn’t much of a mystery, just some bastard who thought that he could try and seduce his wife. Which, of course, made him San’s rival, and there was nothing that he wanted more than to confront this man and beat the shit out of him.
His violent thoughts made San feel restless inside his office, and he decided to visit the interrogation office where the interns had been stationed. However, during his brief walk down the hallway, he thought about Y/N and her dismissive attitude towards him from the previous evening. Was his wife really no longer interested in him? Would San have enough guts to give her a divorce if she asked for it?
He shivered at the scenario, but the unexpected sight of Wooyoung talking with his interns provided a good distraction. “What’s going on?” San demanded when he walked into the room, and Wooyoung immediately hid something behind his back.
“San!” Wooyoung exclaimed, refusing to meet his gaze.
“You’re holding something,” San said.
“No...”
San rolled his eyes, cornering Wooyoung against the wall before reaching behind him to snatch away the transcript that his interns had likely created for him. Ignoring Wooyoung’s complaints, San started reading over the words, frowning when he realized that it was a conversation between his wife and Mike. “They’re meeting for lunch,” San said. “I know this restaurant.”
“Oh?”
San turned to address his interns. “Anything else?”
“No, sir,” one of them responded, and San reached behind him for the collar of Wooyoung’s well-pressed shirt.
“You’re coming with me,” San said.
“Where?” Wooyoung asked, and San held up the transcript that his friend immediately objected. “That’s really taking this too far, San!”
“Are you on my side or not?”
Wooyoung hesitated, appearing entirely conflicted, so San made his decision for him. He snatched Wooyoung’s familiar car keys from one of the desks, and Wooyoung only had a brief moment of realization before he was rushing to catch-up to San on the way out the front door. Unfortunately, San was beyond reason, ignoring Wooyoung’s attempts at rational conversation by opening the driver’s side door. “Take us there,” San requested, tossing his keys into the air before making himself comfortable on the opposite side.
Wooyoung was grumbling when he switched on the ignition. “This is really low, San.”
“You’re supposed to be my friend and partner.”
“I am!” Wooyoung said, slowly guiding them out into traffic. “Which is why I’m the most qualified to give you relationship advice, and I think that spying on your wife is a hard pass.”
“Says the same guy who’s already been divorced twice!”
“Yeah, and that means I know when you’re doing something wrong,” Wooyoung said. “And that we're doing right now? Wrong!”
“Just drive,” San insisted, and Wooyoung must’ve realized that his friend was stoically determined to follow through with his plan because he started quietly driving the rest of the way to the restaurant. “Pull in at the front,” San instructed him.
Wooyoung turned off the ignition, sighing as he leaned back in his seat. “There’s Y/N’s car.”
“Turn on the audio,” San said. “You put the microphone in her purse, right?”
“I stitched it myself,” Wooyung confirmed, reaching down to twist the knob on the machine attached to the radio.
There was mostly static until two distinct voices filled the rest of the car. “Hey, I’m so glad to see you,” a male voice said, and San assumed that it belonged to this Mike character.
“Of course,” Y/N responded timidly. “What did you need?”
“It’s important,” Mile said. “I think they’re coming for me tonight.”
“Tonight?” Y/N gasped, and San and Wooyoung exchanged a quick look.
“You’ll be there for me, right?” Mike asked, and San wrinkled his nose at the disgusting tone. “I have something to ask you.”
“Yes?”
“I can’t tell you until it’s safer,” Mike said. “Come home with me, tonight. We can talk in a place where they can’t follow us.”
“Damn, this guy moves fast!” Wooyoung laughed, but he immediately stopped when he noticed San’s fierce expression. “Oh, shit, I mean, that sleazy scumbag! Who does he think he is?”
“Just shut up,” San said, leaning in closer to the radio because Y/N was talking again.
“I have work until 5,” Y/N said.
“I’ll pick you up outside the office,” Mike replied, and there was a sound that reminded San suspiciously of the noise that he associated with Y/N’s delicate kisses.
“I’m beating the shit out of this bastard,” San declared, and Wooyoung shivered at his dangerous tone.
“Are we following them later?”
“Absolutely,” San agreed, reaching over to grab the GPS tracker. “I’m putting an end to this bullshit!”
Wooyoung simply nodded because he knew that San was past the point of talking him back from over the edge.
However, San was usually the type who could control his temper. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had experienced what some might call “blind rage,” but he came pretty close when he watched his wife get in a stranger’s car without any hesitation. Consequently, San was forced to take several deep breaths to clear the red clouding his vision, waiting until he was mostly clear-headed again to open his eyes. Thankfully, Wooyoung was already following Y/N and Mike, maintaining a safe distance so that they wouldn’t suspect anything.
“Keep on that car until they stop,” San instructed his friend, gripping tightly to the dash while they continued to follow Y/N and Mike through the relatively empty streets.
After twenty minutes of tense driving, they finally pulled into a modest apartment complex where Mike pulled in the driveway of one of the units. “He lives there?” Wooyoung asked, driving past their car.
“Turn back around at the end of the road,” San said while pulling out his cellphone. “I’m calling for back-up.”
“Back-up?!” Wooyoung repeated, but it was too late to change San’s mind and he was already ordering most of Hongjoon’s agents off the street to arrive at the complex.
“This is insane!” Wooyoung loudly whispered, stopping his car at the sidewalk near Mike’s apartment just in time to see Y/N walking inside with the other man.
San reached behind him for the gun that he kept on the backseat. “You aren’t shooting him, are you?” Wooyoung asked, but San’s response was nothing but a crooked smirk as he re-loaded the weapon.
Much to Wooyoung’s horror, the other agents were also fast to arrive on the scene, and San greeted Yunho and Mingi who had been dealing with a drug bust downtown. “What do we got?” Mingi asked when he recognized San.
“Some kind of undercover exchange,” San lied. “Clear out the back of the van for me.”
“Do we have any details?”
“Two people,” San explained. “One man and a woman. The dude is complete trash and you can leave him to me, but the woman is innocent, so just try and get her out safely.”
“Yes, sir,” Yunho said, teasing San with the directive.
“Get your agents ready,” San replied because he wasn’t in any mood to joke around.
Graciously, Yunho and Mingi immediately complied, shouting orders into their walkie-talkies while several agents emerged from around the house, completely dressed from head to tie in their uniforms. Actually, the entire complex was surrounded by Hongjoong’s agents with their sleek black cars, and various cases of equipment and weapons ready for their disposal. “Are you ready?” San asked Wooyoung, covering his face with a mask to disguise his identity.
Wooyoung did the same with a grunt. “I’m sure Y/N will never forget this night.”
San ignored him, checking the safety on his gun, before he stationed himself next to the front door of the apartment. He gave a signal to the agent across from him who nodded once, taking a step back to kick down the door with force, and chaos quickly unraveled as the small apartment was filled with dozens of armed men shouting and aiming their guns in the direction of the two people situated rather scandalously on the couch.
San recognized Y/N’s screams, eyes widening when he noticed that Mike had somehow made himself rather comfortable in close proximity to his wife. San grabbed the sleazy bastard who was still between his wife’s thighs, jerking him back by the collar of his shirt. “You piece of shit,” San grunted, tossing the man onto the ground to cuff his hands.
“What’s happening!” Mike cried, struggling against San’s grip. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah, right, asshole,” San muttered, forcing Mike to stand on his own two feet again before searching for Wooyoung. “Get Y/N.”
Wooyoung nodded, approaching Y/N carefully because her eyes were filled with fear and she was looking around at all the action unfolding. “Let’s go, Ma’am,” Wooyoung said with a wince, trying his best to disguise his regular voice because Y/N might recognize him.
“Who are you?” Y/N demanded, but Wooyoung didn’t try to explain, reaching for her arm.
Y/N shrieked and fought against Wooyoung’s hold, even as Wooyoung maintained his grip. “Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t be like this.”
“You asshole!” Y/N screamed, turning around to knee Wooyoung between the legs and the younger man immediately collapsed to the ground.
“Holy shit,” Wooyoung cried. “That fucking hurt!”
His loud curse attracted San’s attention, and he brought Mike to another agent with strict directions to throw him in the back of the van. Meanwhile, he ran after Y/N who was flailing her arms while tripping in her high heels. “Damn,” San gasped, fighting for air when he finally caught up to Y/N.
“Who are you people?!” Y/N shrieked, kicking out her legs when San wrapped an arm around her upper torso. He certainly hadn’t expected his wife to fight them so much, especially when she leaned down to bite him. However, he only groaned in complaint and fought against the pain while he managed to drag Y/N back to another agent’s car.
“Take her to the agency,” San instructed one of the other men. “In the interrogation room.”
“Yes, sir,” the agent said, and San waited until he was driving off before he confronted Wooyoung who was still hunched over on his knees.
“Come on,” San said, tapping his foot against him.
“You try getting kicked in the dick,” Wooyoung spat, using San’s suspenders to help himself back up. “God, you stupid prick,” Wooyung howled, still feeling the effects of Y/N’s kick while he flipped off Mingi and Yunho who were laughing at his expense.
“Job well done, gentlemen,” Yunho said, flashing San a quick thumbs-up as he settled himself behind the wheel of the van.
“Ignore him,” San told a still seething Wooyoung before they drove off in the direction of Hongjoong’s agency.
The interrogation room was incredibly high-tech with an indestructible Plexiglas wall separating the room itself from the attached studio which was filled with expensive equipment. Wooyoung and San sat together in the studio, watching Y/N as she stormed around the room, screaming and yelling while demanding to be heard. “She’s something else,” Wooyoung remarked.
“Do we still have the voice changing microphone?” San asked.
“Of course,” Wooyoung said, reaching behind him for the appropriate instrument. “Let me get it ready.”
San nodded, thoughtfully considering Y/N who had passionately refused to sit down even after facing stern directions from one of the interns. She had always been passionate, refusing to give in to others, and it was a big part of the reason why San had fallen in love with her in the first place. It was also impossible to describe Y/N’s beauty because, even after such a long and chaotic evening, she still managed to look good in nothing but casual jeans and a simple blouse.
“Good evening, Mrs. Choi,” Wooyoung spoke into the mic, and his voice echoed inside the interrogation room. “We’d like to ask you some questions. It’s in your best interest to cooperate.”
However, Y/N appeared less than compliant, and she furiously slammed her hands against the glass. “Who are you! What do you want from me?”
“Calm down, Mrs. Choi,” Wooyoung said, flinching when San abruptly took the microphone from him.
“We found you with an incredibly dangerous man, Mrs. Choi,” San said. “Can you tell us how the two of you met?”
“Dangerous?” Y/N repeated, looking nothing short of confused. “Mike?”
“How do you know him?”
“We met when I was having lunch alone one day,” Y/N said. “He came up to me with a briefcase and said that he was being followed by some suspicious agents.”
“Why?”
“He works undercover,” Y/N explained. “His work seemed really important.”
“So important that you decided to help him?” San asked.
“Well,” Y/N hesitated. “He said he needed me.”
“Needed you in what way, Mrs. Choi?” Wooyoung took over, much to San’s displeasure.
Y/N narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you insinuating?”
“Is it because your husband isn’t pleasing you anymore, Mrs. Choi?” Wooyoung asked, whining when San grabbed the microphone from him.
“Let me handle this,” San said, before turning his attention back to Y/N. “Why did you keep meeting him, even though you barely knew who he was?”
“I don’t know,” Y/N said, throwing out her hands desperately. “I guess it’s stupid, but I kinda liked that he was involved with something top secret. It seemed really special for me to be a part of it.”
“Special enough for you to cheat on your husband?” San practically spat into the microphone.
“Wait a minute! How do you know that I’m married?”
“We know everything, Mrs. Choi,” San said, quickly trying to make-up for his slip. “Did you sleep with him?”
“I hardly see how that’s any of our business!”
“Answer the question,” San insisted. “Your compliance with us could help your case.”
“My case?”
“Of course,” San said. “You were found with a wanted man. That makes you an accomplice.”
Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Isn’t that a little too much?”
San shook his head, determined to get to the bottom of things. “No, I didn’t,” Y/N finally said. “Satisfied?”
“Were you attracted to him?”
“No!” Y/N cried. “What do these questions have to do with anything?”
“I just have one more thing for you, Mrs. Choi,” San said, taking a deep breath as he braced himself for the answer. “Do you still love your husband?”
Y/N sighed, looking around the steel-gray walls of the room. “Yes,” she said. “I still love him.”
“Terrific!” Wooyoung whispered. “She still loves you! Everything's fine.”
However, San still had one more thing in mind. “You want some adventure in your life, Mrs. Choi,” San said carefully. “That’s good because we might have a solution to our problem concerning your association with Mike. Otherwise, we’ll have to turn you into the authorities.”
“Well!” Y/N exclaimed. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Wooyoung covered the microphone, looking at San with suspicious eyes. “What the hell are you planning?”
San smirked at Wooyoung. “If she wants some excitement, then I’m going to give it to her.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but remained silent. “Mrs. Choi,” San said. “How do you feel about doing some undercover work for us?”
After ensuring that one of the agency’s interns could safely return Y/N home, Wooyoung and San drove quietly to the edge of town to deal with Mike. They pulled the van off the road next to a large overpass, dragging him out screaming and crying from the back. But despite his attempts to break free, San held him perilously at the edge of an enormous dam. “Please,” Mike cried. “Don’t kill me.”
San rolled his eyes, even though Mike probably couldn’t tell from behind his mask. “Did you really think you could get away with it?”
“What are you talking about?” Mike questioned. “You’ve got the wrong guy!”
“It’s all over,” Wooyoung said. “Your career as a spy is well-documented.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No, seriously, I’m just a car salesman,” Mike cried. “I’ve never done anything wrong!”
“Why did we find you with that young woman?” San asked. “We overheard you telling her all about your secret as a spy!”
“It’s only because I have to lie to get laid,” Mike said. “I made the whole thing up because I was trying to impress her!”
“A married woman?” San asked.
“I’m sorry,” Mike said, and there were actual tears streaming down his face. “I’m the biggest coward in the world!”
“Get the fuck out of here,” San grunted, jerking Mike’s hands free from his shirt.
“As soon as I’m not looking I know that you’re gonna shoot me!” Mike declared, walking backwards as he looked back and forth between San and Wooyoung.
San pushed him out of the way, reaching for the driver’s side door of the van. Meanwhile, Wooyoung turned around to confront the frazzled man. He reached for his gun, firing off a few rounds into the air while Mile immediately covered his head. “Fuck off, dude.’”
One Week Later
The hotel made for the perfect cover, and an ideal situation to carry out San’s plan for his wife, even if Wooyoung was less than enthusiastic. He was currently helping San arrange the room to his liking, moving one of the chairs into the shadows of the curtains. His partner also handed San a tape recorder, and San smiled at him gratefully. “Look,” Wooyoung said. “I had one of the interns record some shit. Just play the phrases whenever you need to talk to her.”
It was a good way to disguise his voice, and sitting in the corner would help keep his identity protected. “Did you arrange everything with her?” San asked.
“We had an agent call the house earlier with instructions,” Wooyoung said. “We told her that she was meeting a man who’d be expecting an exotic dancer. She’s supposed to tell you that the regular girl is sick.”
“What did you ask her to do?”
“We dropped off an envelope by her office,” Wooyoung explained. “Her job is to plant the bug on the nightstand without you noticing.”
San chuckled. “And who does she think I am exactly?”
“A very wealthy man,” Wooyoung said, reaching for his phone when it started ringing. He answered in quietly, stepping off to the side of the room while San finished arranging a bouquet of roses next to the little side table where he would be sitting for most of the night. Despite the fact that this whole night had been his idea, he was still nervous about how his wife would handle everything, and there was inherent risk of exposing his identity that he was trying to ignore.
“She’s on her way up,” Wooyoung announced.
“Then, you should go,” San said, ushering Wooyoung towards the door, even while his partner flipped off the light switches as he passed them.
“I’ll be in the lobby in case something goes horribly wrong,” Wooyoung said. “Since it might considering how insane this entire plan is!”
“Relax,” San said, giving him a friendly pat on the ass. “I have everything under control.”
Wooyoung still appeared doubtful, but he gave his friend the benefit of the doubt, and San made sure that the door was closed and unlocked before he settled himself on the chair that he placed in the corner of the room. He sat down with a nervous exhale, wondering if he should cross his legs or not, and he held the tape recorder behind him. There was no turning back from the plan, and San anxiously anticipated Y/N’s arrival, finally deciding to leave his legs spread out in front of him.
It was only a few minutes later that he heard the sound of the front door opening, waiting with a pounding heart as Y/N entered the room. San swallowed hard when Y/N approached, wearing one of the sexiest dresses that he had ever seen in his entire life. His eyes trailed down the skin of her exposed legs, moving back up again to pause on the tight fit around her breasts. He cleared his throat and reached behind him for the tape recorder. “What’s your name?”
San jumped when he noticed that the recording's voice was much deeper than his, and it was also slightly accented.
“Y/N,” she whispered, and her tone certainly didn’t match the intimidating outfit that she wore. “The regular girl was sick, but she thought you would like me.”
“Let me determine that for myself.”
Y/N nodded, reaching behind her for the zipper, but San quickly rewound the tape. “No, do it slowly for me.”
She was hesitant, but San sat up straighter when she turned around to undo the zipper on the back of the dress, allowing it to fall onto the floor. San cleared his throat, taking in the sight of Y/N wearing a black set of lingerie, and the panties barely covered her ass when she made a complete circle to look at San again for directions. “Dance for me,” the recording instructed. “I want to see how sexy you are.”
Y/N paused while San reached out to turn on the radio, adjusting the volume for the heavy bass song that began to play throughout the room. San waited, taking in a deep breath when her hips started to move, and it was awkward at first, until she finally found the beat, dragging her hands over her gorgeous body. San watched as her hands traveled over her breasts, moving them down sensuously to tease the waistband of her underwear.
At this point, San’s heart was practically leaping into his throat, and the music sounded unbelievably loud inside his ears. Y/N was clearly distracted by her own dancing, closing her eyes as she continued to hypnotize San with the tantalizing way that she undulated her hips. San groaned at the display because he was uncomfortably hard in his black trousers, reaching down to adjust himself as he watched Y/N grind herself against the bed post.
She dropped lower to the ground, pushing her ass out in San’s direction, and every bit of blood in his body had moved south to fill his cock. It took everything that he had not to launch himself at his wife who was using the post as support to sway her body from side to side. San closed his eyes, leaning over to turn down the radio so that Y/N could hear the tape recorder again.
“Lie on the bed and close your eyes.”
Y/N stumbled in her heels at the unexpected order, but she still obeyed, gently lowering herself vertically across the hotel’s king-sized bed. In the meantime, San took a flower from the vase next to him, walking over to Y/N to drag the velvety petals against her smooth skin. He was unable to help himself when he joined her on the edge of the bed, leaning down to claim Y/N’s irresistible red-glossed lips.
He moaned against her mouth, resisting the urge to climb his fingers along her beautiful skin that was practically glowing from the light penetrating through the curtains. It had been a long time since he had kissed his wife so passionately, and he was determined to make her feel good tonight. Of course, distracted by the moment’s pleasures, San failed to realize that Y/N had grabbed the alarm clock from the corner of the nightstand until she was hitting him over the head with the offending object. “Pervert!” she shouted, immediately rising from the bed. San grunted as he collapsed to the floor, feeling the dizzying effects of the hit that he had just taken courtesy of his wife’s powerful aim.
However, he quickly came to realize that Y/N was trying to put on her dress while limping haphazardly for the exit. “Y/N,” San shouted, and his wife paused. “It’s me!” He removed the mask and held up his hands, watching Y/N’s eyes grow wide with shock.
“San?” she gasped, and her entire body was suddenly shaking.
“Yes, it’s me,” San whispered, hoping to calm her down.
“H-How?” she asked, clutching the dress tightly to her chest.
“I’m not an insurance agent,” San said, carefully approaching his wife like she might flee at any moment. “I work for a private detective’s office downtown, but I had to lie because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“What?” Y/N questioned, pulling at the strands of her hair as if she couldn’t process anything that he was saying. “None of this makes sense!”
“It was me that night with Mike or whoever,” San revealed. “I interrogated you in that room, and I had some of the agents organize this night for us!”
“San, you sound insane right now!” Y/N said.
“I know,” San agreed, trying to reach out for Y/N, but she quickly took another step back. “I’m so sorry for everything, baby. I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of the stuff that I did at work, so I made up a cover to protect you!”
“You?” Y/N repeated, and San wasn’t sure if it was a question or just his wife’s attempt to make sense of everything. “Y-you're being honest? This was your idea?”
San nodded. “Look, I have a badge and everything,” he said, reaching into his pocket to extract his wallet, holding it out for Y/N who took it with narrowed eyes. “I’ve been working at the agency for years. That’s I’m always home so late because my cases sometimes are more difficult than others.”
Y/N had taken out his badge, studying it with an expression that he had never seen from his wife before. Finally, she dropped the wallet and badge onto the floor, inhaling once as she addressed him. “I can’t believe you’ve lied to me.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” San said, desperately trying to make amends. “I know it was wrong to keep this from you, but I thought it would help you.”
“Help me?” Y/N spat. “Really, San? Because I love thinking that my husband is an insurance agent who spends all night at his office, but it turns out that he’s secretly keeping another identity from me since he could actually die!”
“I’m hardly ever in danger,” San said, but he realized that Y/N wasn’t quite as accepting.
“And what’s this dancing thing all about?” she asked. “You literally tricked me into coming here so you could watch me dry hump the bed?”
“That’s not it, Y/N,” San said. “I- I heard what you said in the interrogation room. You said that you wanted to do something special.”
“But not after my husband lied to me!” Y/N said, meeting San across the room to sharply push against his shoulders. “Is our marriage a cover too?”
“Of course not,” San said, shaking his head. “Y/N, I love you more than anything else in the world.”
“If you loved me, then we wouldn’t be in this situation,” Y/N said. “I feel humiliated!”
“I’m sorry,” San tried again. “This is all my fault, and you can hate me for the rest of your life, but I never wanted to hurt you. Because I’ve loved you long before I became an agent, and I just want you to know that I care about your happiness, even if sometimes seems like I’m the world’s biggest asshole.”
Y/N sniffled, studying San for several long moments. “I believe that you love me,” she finally said. “And I still love you too, but we’re gonna talk about this! Do you hear me?”
“Of course,” San agreed.
“Especially about this disaster,” she continued. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Well,” San said, searching for the correct words. “You look really hot...”
“Shit! I’m still fucking mad at you!” Y/N said, but there was also a carnal energy in her eyes that had San hesitating. “I swear to God I’ll make you pay for this!”
“Is that a promise?” San asked, and Y/N didn’t hesitate to throw her weight against him in a furious kiss as they both landed on top of the luxury bed.
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez oneshot#ateez san#choi san#ateez san fanfic#san fanfic#choi san oneshot#san oneshot#ateez san au
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life as we know it - b.h. chapter 13
sorry that this took a while and for the fact that it’s terrible I just started my english class and it’s a lot to do in 6 weeks so there are going to be some slow updates on this story
the story is also going to be done soon i was thinking about ending at chapter 15 maybe i’m not exactly sure yet
i said in one of my previous posts that i had two different versions of this chapter and i came to the conclusion i’ll post this version first then after the story is over, i’ll post what i originally had in mind so i hope you aren’t mad
masterlist
summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges with it
# of words: 2,231
warnings: language, angst
taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05 , @suckerfor-fanfics , @lilharms , @youngpastafanmug
inbox me or message me if you want to be added to the taglist for the series
----
things have been awkward for ben and y/n since the last social services visit and it caused a little bit of conflict between the two on how they parented. they went back to being themselves even after they said that they’d give a relationship a try. at this point they didn’t even know where they stood in the relationship after the visit with janine. ben went back to sleeping on the couch and she was by herself again in the guest bedroom. Whenever they wanted to talk to each other, it felt like the universe wanted them to be apart and kept telling them that they weren’t meant to be. but it was wrong. all of it. the two of them were too stubborn to talk about their feelings in a way for them to both understand and the situation they were going through was making it worse.
now, y/n was with lucy as they finally got to have a day to themselves and hangout like they originally planned. lucy sensed that something was wrong with her due to her being quiet and avoiding every sentence that involved ben. lucy stopped looking through the racks when she decided to speak up to find out what was wrong
“okay, you’re being quiet and you’re also avoiding every question whenever i bring up ben, what’s wrong?” lucy asked as she stopped looking through the racks
she didn’t answer her though. it’s not like she wanted to but it’s how she didn’t know what to tell her and what was happening. she stayed quiet before she felt lucy’s eyes burning a whole in the back of her head already knowing that she can’t be avoided of her questions
“i’m not sure. everything was going all smoothly. first, we were laying on the couch talking about us and whether we wanted to give a relationship a try then we went out on a date and it went crashing down the next day”
“wait. hold on a minute. you went on a date? did anything else happen? like some you know?” lucy winked causing y/n’s face to turn red
“LUCY! not in front of the child! but yes we did and then we went and baked some special brownies”
“i’m sorry but in all seriousness how did it go? i mean did you confess your love to each other?”
“we did but after that social services visit it all went downhill. she asked us how we were going to make everything work and whether or not ben’s next project was going to be here again or if he was going to be away for a while. we started to argue on how good of planners we are, then she found out we did it, it just all went down.”
lucy understood her situation even if she had never been in it and knew that if y/n and ben continued to be like this, it’ll be hard for charlie to grow up in a stable household if both of her guardians weren’t talking and going back to their old habits of almost hating each other's guts.
“i can’t relate to your situation and i probably never will, but the only thing you need to do is talk to him. you know that it’s the right thing to do. don’t do the wrong thing and push him away. It’ll only make it worse. i’m not blaming you for anything and i’m not blaming ben either, but this is between the both of you and how you are going to raise charlie so she knows that her guardians and godparents love each other whether it’s romantically or platonically. i think that you need to do what’s best for all of you and yourself. next time i see ben, i’ll tell him the same thing or hopefully you would have told him before. i don’t like seeing either one of you like this. so what are you guys going to do for the holidays?” she finished
“thanks luc. i’ll try to, it's just a tough situation and we both want what’s best for charlie and for her to grow up with a healthy relationship with the both of us. for the holidays? we haven’t really talked about that much. at first we were thinking about going to charlie’s grandparents for christmas and then ben’s parents for new years and his birthday but i don’t know if the plans are going to follow through now.” she told her avoiding eye contact with lucy to save herself from feeling like she was lying to herself about what she was going to do. she knew that it was wrong to lie but it was a tough situation for both of them.
the rest of the day was spent with the two of them and charlie shopping and getting lunch before they went their separate ways. she had thought over what lucy had said and begun to think about what she was going to do or how she was going to talk to him. ben didn’t have that much filming left to do and was supposed to be finishing up soon. he had spent the day not paying attention and having to stay a little longer due to constantly messing up before he gave up and stormed off. the cast and crew knew something was wrong because of how quiet he started to become after rather than talking all the time and being as energetic as he used to be when they first started to film. when time came, the guys eventually came around and asked what was wrong with him and why he was being the way he was. he plucked up the courage to tell him how both him and her had screwed up their relationship. they didn’t know much of the situation and tried to get it out of lucy but she promised that she would tell anyone about it and would let ben do it on his own time.
“about a few weeks ago, we had a date, then we slept together. the next day we got a surprise social services visit and we were a mess that morning. she and i had baked some brownies with a little bit of weed in them a little after sleeping together and we spent i don’t know how long completely fucked until we woke up the next morning.”
“well i mean that’s not exactly too bad.” rami told him as gwilym and joe agreed
“during the meeting with our social service worker, we, y/n and i, started to somewhat argue and then janine found out we had sex and said it’s going to strain our relationship and how we raise charlie. so we went back to being how we were at first without the insults though.”
“oh damn i did not see that coming”
“Neither did i”
after he had told them, they understood and knew that both ben and y/n would be able to overcome their stubbornness and talk it out and have another real conversation about it rather than say one word to each other.
when ben came home, it was quiet. not a single light was on besides the porch light and the lamp that was sitting on the small counter next to the couch. at first, he must’ve thought that both y/n and charlie were asleep but he checked their rooms to find no one there besides frankie who had a sad look on her face as she laid beside the crib. He left the room to look in the other rooms to see if any of their stuff were there.
when he entered y/n’s room, he found the bed neatly made as if it had never been touched and an envelope with his name on it. ben knew what was coming. He knew that the letter will contain something that he doesn’t want to read and felt like he was living in some cheesy romance movie. he stood in his spot, staring at the letter as if it were going to attack him if he moved a bit before gaining the courage and picking it up. he saw the way his name was neatly written on the front in her handwriting and began to tear up. taking a deep breath, he opened the envelope and took the letter out of it. ben looked up at the ceiling before closing his eyes and exhaling, sat on the bed and began to read;
Dear Ben,
I don’t know when you’re going to notice this letter if you come home late or early next morning but i’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything and leaving with charlie. We’re at a friends house right now but i can’t tell you who. Ever since the visit, i began to wonder if we can truly do it until i think back to our talk that one day. you were so sure of yourself that we can make this happen and i was too, but we can’t. We can still talk this out but I won’t be available until christmas. I already bought mine and charlie’s tickets for california to see jack and melissa in a couple of days. They know of the situation and aren’t mad at you, and they won’t ever be mad at you. you can still come over and we can talk it out there but it’s up to you. I really love you ben, i really do. This whole time i have never felt more comfortable with someone and telling them my secrets and things that have happened in my life. I told you things that i have never even told lennon about and that’s how comfortable i felt and how much i love you. I hope that you can make a decision about what we can do. I have already made mine and i’m willing to change it after we talk it out and have time to think.
I love you,
y/n
by the time ben had finished reading, tears were escaping his eyes after not being able to hold them in any longer. she was confused with her feelings and so was ben but it was clear that they both wanted each other but just didn’t know how to talk about what they wanted in their lives even though they have done it before. he felt too numb to move and ended up sleeping where y/n once laid. her scent still lingered on the sheet and he hugged the pillow as tight as he could as he silently cried himself to sleep with frankie laid beside him.
Throughout the night he couldn’t sleep. The most he got was 2 hours before waking up at 1 am and going downstairs to the kitchen. he wasn’t having trouble sleeping, but he wanted to get rid of what was happening and forget about it without having to be drunk and make himself worse. ben ruled out coffee because he knew that it’ll just keep him up for a little longer and that his other choice was tea. he wasn’t the biggest fan of tea, but y/n was and she had managed to get him to at least drink it a couple times a week.
rummaging through the cupboards to find where she kept the tea, he found her favorite chamomile that she loved. He took the box out and turned on the kettle near him and her favorite mug. Ben stared at the cup as he began to think about why she loved the mug so much.
Flashback
“i have a question, why do you love that mug so much? i mean we have a bunch of other mugs yet you always use that one no matter what you’re drinking.” ben asked curiously setting down his drink
she stayed quiet for a bit and stared at the mug that was in her hands before taking a deep breath and telling him why she used it
“Someone close to me gave it to me and i just miss them. it’s pretty much the only thing i have left of them back from the states.” she shrugged
ben just stared at her and didn’t say anything besides pulling her into him and giving a kiss on her head”
Flashback over
ben snapped out of his thoughts when he saw that the water finished boiling. when he finished making it, he sat where she would sit with charlie and took out his phone to see if she had responded to any of the texts he had sent before he had entered the house to see if she was up to talk. nothing. ben changed to his photos app because he needed some happy memories. the most recent one was when he forgot his phone one day and y/n and charlie decided to have some fun with it and take millions of photos and videos of them. He scrolled through and found the first picture of them when charlie was first born and wondered if it’ll ever be them in a way in the future.
ben finished his tea and went back up to the bed and laid back down and stared at the ceiling where he let thousands of thoughts run through his head about where they could be before his eyes started to droop and close, letting sleep take over his body again.
#ben hardy#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy x reader#ben x reader#ben hardy x female reader#ben hardy x you#ben hardy x y/n#ben jones#ben jones x reader#ben hardy fanfiction#ben hardy fanfic#ben hardy fic#ben hardy fluff#ben hardy angst#ben hardy smut#roger taylor#roger taylor imagine#roger taylor x reader#warren worthington iii#warren worthington imagine#warren worthington x reader#x-men apocalypse#6 underground#bohemian rhapsody#borhap#lawki
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Calendar Days
Steve Rogers x Reader
One Shot
Summary: a series of monthly one shots focused around one of your favs
July
It was a rare thing to be alone yet so unlike the almost constant throbbing ache of being lonely. Steve didn't feel either so much anymore but unlike those lonely aches he was prone to suffering from time to time, the moments when he was alone were to be savored, treasured even. He did a lap around the entire floor plan and then had Jarvis run a scan just to be sure. Only with confirmation it was only him on this floor did he let his shoulders relax and eyes draw to his secret obsession.
An acoustic guitar hung off a mount set into the wall between two tall bookcases. He had never seen anyone take the instrument down let alone play it and that fact was apparent when he strummed his fingers across the strings a few weeks ago and a flat note pushed against his eardrums worse than a punch to the side of the head. He had smacked his palm against the vibrating strings, holding it solidly as he would over someone's mouth and nose. It worked to silence the offensive sound just as well.
He didn't touch it for a long time after that, not only because slight swell of intimidation under his tongue but because the chance didn't arise.
It didn't stop his morbid curiosity. Without practical application Steve transferred all his obsessive energy into reading about guitars. In theory he knew how to play, in theory he knew how to tune, and now was his chance to try it out. Grabbing it firmly by the neck he lifted it from the hook mount and held it tight in front of him like a live snake hissing a threat and ready to strike. Walking backwards he eased himself down onto the couch and repositioned, bringing the instrument close in his lap with arms wrapped almost reverently around the body and neck.
With a deep breath Steve willed his heartbeat to slow so he could hear the notes past the blood rushing in his ears. Thumb against the taut top string Steve pushed down and let the horrid, untuned note ring out.
"Calendar day! Calendar day! Calendar day!"
The chant was his only warning and judging by the increasing volume he had very little time to react. Still, as a super soldier with lightning fast reflexes he made an attempt to right the room in time. Everyone rounded the corner into the sitting room just as Steve's hand pulled away from the guitar now hanging in its rightful place. Wiping his hands down the front of his jeans he watched you round the corner followed closely by Sam and Bucky all clapping along to their ceaseless chant.
"Calendar day! Calendar day! Calendar day!"
Steve groaned, rolling his neck to hide the grin threatening to lift his lips.
"Is it the first already?" He asked, feeling a flush of heat up the back of his neck.
"Oh you bet your ass it is Rogers. And you know what that means!"
Sam and Bucky bracketed the calendar hung on the wall across from the slightly swaying guitar, arms held out like game show assistants displaying a shiny new car. You practically skipped up to the display and Steve could only watch your back as you flipped the page to display the July page.
Bucky let out a high pitched wolf whistle while Sam openly giggled in a way he wouldn't admit he could ever do.
"The birthday boy in his birthday suit." Bucky teased, throwing a wink at Steve who had half his face covered with his large palm as if he could somehow avoid the embarrassment this month would bring.
"I have never hated that shield more in my life." You joked, letting your eyes roam across the image but unable to keep from tracing the lines of Steve's Adonis belt until the muscle hit the sharp blue rim of the strategically placed Captain America shield.
"Steve, man, I can't believe you let them set you up like this." Sam managed to say through his throaty giggles.
"It was for charity!"
"Yeah, but no one else got naked for charity." Bucky countered.
If anyone could look away from the calendar they would have seen Steve collapse onto the couch, turning his head to bury it in a throw pillow.
Taking Steve's silence as surrender you stepped in to help out your captain.
"Buck, just wait til next month."
Throwing his arm around you he cocked his hip with catty confidence.
"Hey, I looked good and I didn't have to strip down to do it."
"Alright," Sam interjected, letting out a few more weak chuckles. "Alright let's let Cap pout by his lonesome. We got all month."
The men sauntered out, noise trailing behind them and suddenly Steve wasn't alone on this floor anymore.
You bit your lip, holding back words in favor of just watching Steve sink further into the couch, his body twisted in a way that was both humorous and sad. You moved closer to him, wondering if he would accept a comforting pat on the back for once.
"Sorry, Steve. But you knew this was coming! Honestly, it's not that bad after the first week. Just ask Tony or Wanda or -"
"It's fine. Really." Steve half mumbled into the throw pillow before sitting up and glancing right past you to the guitar on the wall.
It didn't take your years of training to catch the look. When Steve wasn't dead-set on a mission he let his face wear every thought and desire openly. Glancing in the direction of his gaze reminded you Steve was standing closer to that wall when you had come into the room. With an eye on Steve you moved closer to the wall, waiting for any sign you had hit the source of Steve's gloomy mood. Your fingers glanced along a set of strings, barely making a sound, and Steve swallowed.
"Ah ha!" You exclaimed, yanking the guitar off the wall.
"Fess up Rogers."
You offered the guitar up when Steve extended his arm for it. He settled into the position he was in before your interruption. Striking a cord you cringed for only a second before schooling your expression. Steve fiddled with the corresponding tuning knob. You watched him work, taking a seat on the ottoman as the minutes passed.
To see Steve struggle was not new. You had been by his side practically since the man came out of the ice. He struggled to adjust to a time he was never meant to be part of. He struggled to find Bucky, to bring him back onto the side of good. He struggled to patch things up with Tony and put ego aside in the name of friendship. But to see Steve struggle with something as innocuous as a musical instrument? It made your heart swell with a feeling you couldn't quite name.
Eventually Steve found the correct tuning. A solid, clear A note resounded proud and strong, finding harmony with Steve's wide smile and bright eyes. You smiled back, chin resting in your palm thoughtfully.
"You know they make tuners for that."
Steve's eyebrows stitched together in confusion.
"Little battery operated things that will tell you the notes. You could even get an app on your phone if you bothered to use it old man."
The joke didn't quite land judging by Steve's slight frown. He looked down at the guitar in his arms with a gravity you wish you could say didn't suit him.
"This isn't something I want to take shortcuts on."
You didn't think before scooting closer and laying your hand just above Steve's knee. You did take a moment to think about the squeeze that followed.
"It's not a shortcut, Steve. It's a tool. The same as your shield or the team."
"You're not tools." He argued.
"Well, Tony can be a tool sometimes." You countered, earning a breathy snort.
Steve looked down at the guitar, this time donning a small smile. He let his fingertips strum across the strings, pulling a face you imagined was similar to yours as the hideous notes clashed with each other and your senses.
"Show me this app."
-
July passed quickly and it seemed like only a few days ago the team celebrated Steve's birthday in what ended up being a weekend bash that began with a cake with the screen printed image of Steve's scandalous calendar photo and ended with a groggy re-entry into the world of the living with a splitting headache, queasy stomach, and the distant strumming of an acoustic guitar. He wouldn't let you watch him practice, wouldn't let anyone really, but it happened every day, almost constantly. No one commented on the way Steve's fingers worked chord progressions on any surface, or how the guitar that once hung in the sitting room had taken permanent residence in his bedroom. You wondered if anyone cared to take an interest in the captain's new hobby, or if there was just an unspoken rule to not talk about it. Now that the month was coming to a close you were practically itching with the need to know how Steve was progressing.
The knock on your door was so soft you almost didn't hear it over your too-loud thoughts playing keep away with sleep. You sat up, listening for the sound again, ready when it came the second time.
"Come in."
It was Steve, his acoustic guitar in front of his midsection like he held his shield for the calendar shoot. You tried not to think about the hard planes of Steve's body currently hiding underneath a white muscle shirt and grey sweatpants.
"Did I wake you?"
You shook your head. Sitting further up in bed and turning on your bedside lamp as he entered your room and shut the door softly behind him.
"I've been working on something. O-on the guitar." The clarification wasn't necessary, but you didn't want to scare away what felt like a very delicate moment being shared.
"I'm not ready to...do this in front of everyone but you have been there for me since the beginning of this and I...can I play a song for you?"
You wanted to cheer, to clap, to do that weird flailing then you do when you're super excited that Clint would inevitably mock with his own exaggerated version but now didn't seem like the time to make a big fuss, now felt like a time to just listen.
"I'd love to, Steve."
He smiled, nerves ensuring it didn't quite reach his eyes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, half in shadow and thus partially obscured from view. You leaned onto your right side, arm supporting your head, just to see a bit more of him.
He strummed a simple progression of E Minor and G once, twice, three times. And even though you knew the song you were still surprised to hear him sing.
"I need an easy friend. I do, with an ear to lend."
That feeling you had in your chest before was back. That first day in July when you watched Steve struggle to tune the guitar you knew in his hands there would be no shortage of dedication to the cultivation of this new skill. That same guitar he now played beautifully with a flow that looked so natural you knew he had to have practiced it all month and with that time and practice he chose to learn a song that meant something to you. You closed your eyes, going back further than the start of the month to the start of your friendship, to a man who was trying to navigate the world with only a little notebook of media to give him a jumping off point.
"Star Wars without a doubt. And Nirvana." You had said with a matter-of-fact tone that promptly ended the conversation. He wrote them down and that was that.
He did eventually see Star Wars, him and Bucky, but there was no mention of Nirvana in the years that had passed. You assumed he just hadn't gotten to it.
But here he was singing About A Girl in your bedroom, mumbling through the chorus as he concentrates on the chords.
Steve strums one final note, letting it ring out instead of stamping it down like you imagine he wants to since he cannot seem to look away from the wall opposite him. You give yourself a moment, needing a beat of silence to try to release some of the pressure in your chest. Instead, your heart flips and flutters as the lamplight crossed Steve's cheek when he glances almost imperceptibly your way.
"Steve Rogers."
He faces you fully now, face open for you to see the uncertainty and anticipation and tiny waves of pride that managed to break up the endless sea of self doubt.
"I think I love you."
It was the only thing you could think would explain the balloon in your lungs, the feeling of overwhelming adoration directed toward this one person. The fullness in your chest ached so much it squeezed a few fat tears from your eyes. You smiled as you wiped them away.
"I love you too."
You couldn't tell if he meant it in the same way you did, but you didn't think it mattered. Steve set the guitar down, leaning it against the foot of your bed before turning as much as he could towards you. Rising to your knees you shuffled into his open arms and held onto him like letting go wasn't an option.
"I have to tell you something." He mumbled as to not break the moment.
You didn't pull away to reply.
"What?"
"I don't think I'm a fan of Nirvana."
You pulled away, mouth open in shock and the air filling your chest to bursting finally finding an exit.
"What?! How? Steve, I don't think you understand the genius of grunge music."
He shrugged, face forming a half smile as you took a soapbox for a generation defining genre. Because he loved you.
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Her own path
Part 2: A caring mother figure
Warnings: Some angst. Mentions of torture. Mentions of abuse. Mention of injuries. Mention of blood, cuts and bruises. Fluff between reader and mum Kurogiri.
Characters: Shigaraki, Reader, mum Kurogiri and a mention of Toga and Dabi
Description: After another training/torture session the reader gets some TLC from mum Kurogiri.
Also: Y/n = your name, f/c = favourite colour and sf/c = second favourite colour.
Side notes: Reader doesn't like to acknowledge Shigaraki as her father so she doesn't call him dad or father a lot.
I hope you enjoy this part I worked hard on it 🥰
Deep in the league of villains base screams and crys of pain rang out echoing around the barren empty halls. The scream and cries coming from young Y/n Shigaraki being tortured for failing to follow orders given to her in another training session. The one doing the torturing is none other than her father Tomura Shigaraki even though the young girl will never class him as that.
Y/n's pov
Pain ran though my body after another punch was thrown to my side and followed by a series of more punches and kicks. This continued on untill my abuser had enough and I sank down to the floor laying on my back struggling to get my breath back after being punched and kicked multiple times. The cold flooring feeling nice against my bear arms as I welcomed the silence in the room. But that silence was soon broken by a voice. A voice that I hated and dreaded hearing everyday of my life from the age of 4.
"I really thought you learnt your lesson after last time but I guess not" a male voice rang out somewhere to the left of me. Footstep drawing closer to me.
"I can't believe you still disobeyed me during your training" the voice sounding closer. Untill the face of said voice appeared above mine staring down at me.
"You lucky we need you alive for the plan or eles I would of killed you along time ago" he said with a cold look. I sat up and stared directly at the wall in front of me refusing to look at him waiting for him to asked the same questions he always asked after torturing me.
"Why do you refuse? Your going to have to given in eventually you have nowhere else to go and your never leaving us" the voice stated.
"I refuse because I don't want to be like" I turned my body to face him and raised my eyes to meet his to emphasize on the last word "you" I sneered out meeting my green eyes with his red ones but it doesn't faze him but I continued to answer his last statement whilst slowing rising up from the floor.
"You know I could always go to the heros and tell them everything like how you kidnapped me. Killed my mother who was a pro hero. How you abuse and torture me. And how you plan to use me for your sick evil plan" fully standing my voice getting louder after each point I pointed out untill the last word rang out and echoed around the room. After the echo died out and faster than I could blink the male held me up by my throat with his pinkys held away not touching my skin. His red eyes stared down into mine as he chuckled out.
"Like they would help you after all why would they believe you a 11 year old who looks small and weak" I glared at him for mention my very small appearance. But he ignored it and continued on.
"Do you know why they also wouldn't believe you?" He asked then answered by himself.
"Your no more than a pune little villain and after all" he sneered out pausing. Bring his mouth up to my ear he continued.
"Being a villain is in your blood so no matter how much you try and refuse your future is already sealed which is to kill All Might and become the villain you are ment to be" he silently chuckled out. His face drawing away from my ear to lock his eyes with my wide ones. Dropping me to the floor as I winced in pain whilst trying not to cry. He walks to the door whilst putting on his special gloves so he doesn't disintegrate the door handle, as he puts his hand on the handle he turns to face me.
"Return to your room and stay there for the rest of the night" his cold voice says then he faces back to the door opening it and walks out closing the door behind him. As soon as I hear his footsteps disappear down the hall I breakdown bursting into tears I've been holding in. Tears from being in pain, tears from things he said and tears from not being able to do anything about this. I used to hate my father before but now after everything he had just said to me I hate him even more and I wish I could disappear and just be back in the arms of my loving mother which is impossible thanks to the devil himself. My father.
After composing myself and drying my remaining tears and throwing on my jacket that had been discarded before all of the torturing had began I returned to my room even if you could call it that. The room itself it's not that very big but big enough for a single bed, a small desk with a chair and a small nightstand. As soon as you walking into my so called room through the door the first thing you see is my small desk which has a small plant on it along with some art supplies that Kurogiri gave me for 5th birthday so that I wouldn't be bored and a chair with a pillow on the seat which Dabi and Toga got me. To the left of my desk is my nightstand which has a small lamp on it along with a pile of books which Kurogiri also gave me on one of my birthdays. To the left of my nightstand is my single bed which is pushed up to the far side of the left wall. Then on the right side of the room is a door that leads to a small basic bathroom.
I closed the door behind me and went over to my bed and collapsed onto it with my face buried deep into the pillows not caring if I got blood on it. A small gentle knock came from my door. My door then opened and closed I already knew who it was so I didn't bother look up. Footsteps came towards my bed then the person sat down on my bed rubbing small comforting circles on my back.
"He gave you a hard time again" the voice of a male spoke gently. I turned my head to face him as I gave him a glance with a look of 'what do you think' as his yellow eyes looking into mine. He let out a small sigh as he then ask what he always asked me after coming to check up on me after my training/torture sessions.
"How badly are you hurt this time?" He asked sadly. I just turned my head back into the pillows refusing to answer his question. He sighed a long sigh before speaking again.
"Y/n please show me" he ask the tone of desperation clearly evidence in his voice. I let out a small sigh turning and sat up to face him on my bed. At seeing my face his yellow eyes seems to give a look of shocked. The mist man looking shocked continue to sit there patiently waiting for me to make a move to show him any hidden injuries that were hidden by my clothing. Slowly I took of my jacket to reveal my bare arms then a small gasp was heard from the mist man. Many more gasp from the mist man soon followed as I rolled up my f/c tracksuit bottoms and as I took my sf/c vest top off leaving me in my black sports bra a large gasp left the mist man.
"Y/n" he said quietly his eyes seem to have a soft look whilst looking over my form.
"Come on let's get you cleaned up so we can patch you up" he said gently with a caring tone. We move to the bathroom and whilst he was running me a bath I took a look at my form in the mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door only to let out a small inaudible gasp shocked by my own appearance.
My legs had dried blood running down them mostly likely from the cuts I got when Shigaraki had thrown knives at me in an attempt to get me to use my Decay quirk. My arm had bruises that already had started to form along with small cuts that were still bleeding a bit. My face was littered with small cuts and dried blood coming down from a cut that was just under my bottom lip. My right side had an enormous bruise that had already formed and ran from under my arm to my hip. My hair was a mess stick up in all directions with dried blood and grime decorating it. I then turned and headed towards the bath when the mist man told me it was ready.
He left to go and wash my clothes whilst I washed myself gently and carefully and made sure to shampoo and condition my hair. Once done cleaning myself I climbed out of the now bloody bath water, drained it and wrap a towel around myself. After drying myself and my hair I then put on some clean panties and bra and I slowly exited the bathroom to see the mist man sitting crisscrossed on my bed that had new, fresh and clean sheets on with a med kit and hairbrush on my nightstand ready to use.
I sat down on the bed in front of the mist man facing him as he attended to my leg wounds first taking great care when doing so. Once done with my legs he gave me some long f/c pj bottoms to put on and then started on my arm mostly just put some cooling gel over the bruises then doing same to the big bruise on my right side. He then asked me to turn around, with my back now facing him he lifted my long hair over my shoulders so he could see my back. He let out a loud gasp making me ask him.
"What's wrong?". But he didn't replie. So I got up from my bed and went to the bathroom to look at my back in the mirror. My eyes widen seeing why his reaction was what it was. I had a huge deep gash on my back that went diagonally down from the bottom of my left shoulder and stopped above my right hip. I left the bathroom with the look of shocked still plastered on my face as I sat down with my back facing the equally shocked misty male.
"I'm going to have to stich it" the misty male said gently and carefully trying to gage my reaction. I gave him a small nod as permission to do so. He stitched it up whilst talking to me to keep my mind of the pain then once he was finished he wrapped it up with a bandage. He then gave me my long sleeve f/c top to put on then started to brush out my long light blue pinked streaked hair before tying it into two pigtails. He then stayed to talk to me whilst I ate the buttered toast and drank the hot chocolate he had made me.
Third pesron pov
After chatting some more and giving the young girl some medication to ease the pain he tucked her into bed with a cuddle and a somewhat form of something that classed as a kiss from him to her forehead.
"Thanks for your help again Kurogiri" Y/n said sweetly to him.
"Its okay I take great pride in caring for you" he replied caringly.
"Goodnight Kurogiri" the young girl yawned. Kurogiri lets out a quiet chuckle.
"Goodnight Y/n" Kurogiri said quietly and gently before making his way to the door. Before closing the door the male with a sad and gentle look glanced back at the young girl who was settling down for the night before letting out a small inaudible sigh before closing the door and leaning back on it before saying to himself.
"One day I hope she get the chance to get away from here so she can change her life for the better and become someone who she want to be" before letting go of the door handle and continuing to say.
"But untill that day I will still care for her as I love her like she was my own daughter" Kurogiri exhaled a small breath before retreating down the hall to his own room. Whilst the young girl in question was snuggled up with her blanket in hand given to her by her new mother like figure preparing for the long night of nightmares ahead she too wishing she had a better chance of life.
But little do both of them know their wish would soon become true. In the form of a bunch of teenage trainee heros, a loud mouth of a teacher, a very tired caterpillar teacher, a tired looking indigo haired boy and a small one horned girl who may just become the young girls new friends and family after a evil plan gone wrong.
#bnha fanfiction#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader#my hero academia#mha shigaraki#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#mha#mha kurogiri#mha league of villains#bnha shigaraki#bnha kurogiri#Dad Shigaraki#Mum Kurogiri#Dadigaraki#Mumrogiri#league of villains#child reader
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Hanta Sero and the Goddess of Fun
Category: Friendship Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Hanta Sero
Hey, everyone! Here today with a story for two of @bnhabookclub‘s events! I’m combining the prompt “Pillow Fort” from the Bingo Event with the prompt “Violence is not the answer”/“Yeah, but it is an option” from the Celebrating Sero event. How could I not write something for our lovable Tape Hero’s birthday? Happy reading! :3
Sero’s eyes were lidded as he sucked absently on a popsicle stick that he had long since cleaned the mango sherbet from. As he drew it from between his lips with a small “pop,” he glanced up at the ceiling fan slowly rotating above his head. His black eyes traced the blades around and around with dull interest, which quickly dissipated into boredom. With a loud groan, he slumped down onto the couch until his shoulders rested against the couch cushion and his legs scrunched up. This blows. I could be out having a good time right now, but… he complained as he began chomping on the popsicle stick like a hamster. He’d imprinted his teeth into the malleable wood by the time Mina came strolling in from the kitchen.
“Aw, Hanta, you look bored out of your mind,” she tutted as she draped herself over the back of the sofa to smile pityingly down at him.
“So glad of you to notice,” Hanta droned. He continued to bite down on the popsicle stick, finding some grotesque level of satisfaction from chewing on it. Mina hummed empathetically and bounced around to perch on the arm of the sofa. “I’m so bored!” he exclaimed and chucked the popsicle stick onto the coffee table, no longer entertained by the novelty. Hanta threw his arms up behind his head and pouted at the empty television screen displaying his warped reflection. He rolled onto his side to bat his eyelashes at the pink girl. “O, Goddess of Fun, please bless me with an activity to perform before my brain jellifies and oozes out of my ears,” he pleaded. I need a distraction! Mina giggled and kicked her legs a little in delight.
“‘Goddess of Fun’? You flatter me, Hanta.” She patted her pursed lips with the pad of her index finger as she contemplated. She then gasped and clapped her hands together. “I know! Why don’t we build a pillow fort?” At her suggestion, Hanta sat up with raised eyebrows.
“A pillow fort?” he repeated. As he pondered the notion, a grin slowly spread across his face. “Yeaaaahhh… Yeah! That sounds like fun!” As he confirmed, Mina’s fingers flew across her phone screen, sending a message to their class group chat. Mina’s tone of voice would be bubbly, but participation would be all but required. The ceiling thumped with footsteps as the students slowly meandered out of their rooms with pillows and blankets in tow. Mina and Hanta hopped up to wrench the cushions from the sofas. As they pushed the coffee table out of the way to create an ample open space for their creation to come, Ochako came bouncing down the stairs; her arms were laden with blankets and pillows, and her eyes sparkled with unbridled delight.
“I’ve never made a pillow fort before!” she gasped. When the brunette scampered over to dump her contribution onto the rug, Mina tutted and embraced Ochako, pressing her face into her chest and patting her head.
“Our poor ‘Chako, so deprived of life’s great joys,” she crooned. Ochako blinked, her response muffled by the fabric of Mina’s tee-shirt smothering her mouth. Hanta grinned at them as he built the fort wall with the cushions and furniture frames. Ochako blinked again when Mina thrust her away and dove down to retrieve the pillows. “This is gonna be so much fun! ‘Chako, will you make some popcorn? We can stay up late watching late-night anime re-runs!” The brunette saluted the pink-haired girl before trotting off to the kitchen. The smell of butter and the sound of popping kernels soon filled the air of the living room.
Hanta grinned at Mina as she began laying the pillows out on the floor to construct a large, bouncy layer for them to lay on.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this. It makes me feel like a kid again!” he laughed as he dragged a floor lamp into the center of the room to drape the blankets over it and make a circus tent-like structure. Mina nodded amiably from her perch on the floor.
“It’s good to be in touch with your childhood!” Before they could say anything else, there was a yelp followed by the distinct series of thump indicative of someone falling down the stairs.
“Ah!” came Eijirou’s voice. “Midoriya, are you all right, dude?” Hanta peered over the back of the couch. Izuku sprawled on his back at the base of the steps, cushioned by a mass of blankets and pillows. The only way that Hanta knew it was even him was Eijirou’s comment and the shock of pine-green hair peeking out from underneath a four-foot plushie of All Might.
“Yeah,” the boy whined, shifting the gigantic stuffie to smile shakily as the redhead descended the steps with his pillows tucked under one arm and his blankets draped over the other shoulder. “I tripped over one of the sheets…”
“Why the fuck do you have that ridiculous thing?” Katsuki scoffed, leaning over the banister of the steps to sneer at the green-haired boy. Izuku defensively hugged the hero plush as he sat up and pouted at the blond who was now rounding the landing.
“It’s a pillow fort, Kacchan! I can bring my All Might if I want to!”
“Oh, it’s so cute!” Ochako laughed delightedly as she strolled in with two buckets filled with popcorn. She set them down on the displaced coffee table so she could crouch down and admire the adorable rendition of the former number-one hero. “So big, too! How much did you pay for it?” Izuku’s cheeks turned red, and he began to mumble under his breath. At some point, he must’ve uttered the price because the color slowly drained from Ochako’s face, and she began to wobble from side to side in a fit of wooziness. Hanta frowned with a raised eyebrow. Those things can run for hundreds of dollars… No wonder it’s given Ochako a conniption fit. Izuku squeaked as Ochako stood and slowly staggered away, looking like her soul had abandoned her body from the shock.
Izuku continued to clutch the large plush as he toted his mess of blankets and pillows over to Hanta. Once Mina arranged the pillows, Izuku plopped down in the corner, reclining against the plush and looking like an overjoyed toddler in a candy store. Katsuki had denounced Izuku’s plushie, but Hanta caught the blond staring intently at it like he was impossibly jealous.
“Ah! It already looks so fun, everyone!” Momo called from the landing as she glided down the steps, her nightgown swishing around her feet and her massive down comforter stretching behind her like a bridal train. Hanta grimaced at the gargantuan blanket, sure that if he tried to drape it over the furniture, it would collapse. Momo trilled delightedly as she strode over, whirling the heavy blanket around with a girlish giggle. “Here, Hanta, will this do?” she asked as she piled the giant piece of fabric into his arms. He slouched down as his unprepared shoulders suddenly bore the weight, and his knees wobbled as he struggled to remain upright.
“Hehe, yeah, Yaomomo… Thanks…” Momo clapped her hands together, clearly pleased, so Hanta absolved to find someplace for the gigantic comforter. The girl scampered off to assist Ochako in the kitchen, spouting something about finding a tea that goes good with popcorn. Hanta decided to stretch the comforter out on the layer of pillows; the down blanket was stupidly soft, and felt like a cloud under his bare feet. As he knelt amongst the pillows and blankets, he nodded approvingly; their pillow fort was coming together nicely. He smiled up at Mina as she bounced across the fluffy pillows to him. “This was a really fun idea!”
“What can I say? I am the Goddess of Fun,” she snickered matter-of-factly. She stood beside Hanta, draping the sheets over the furniture to begin forming their tent. “Though, I’m surprised that you’re stuck here tonight. I would’ve imagined that you’d’ve gone out with your family for your birthday.” Hanta’s cheeks suddenly burned painfully hot. He wildly glanced around to make sure no one heard, then tugged Mina down by her arm. She yelped as she was forced down into a squat, but he clapped a hand over her lips to keep her noises from arousing suspicion. “What’s the big deal?” she hissed when he removed his hand.
“I didn’t want anyone to know!” he complained in a harsh whisper. Mina blinked confusedly at him, and Hanta grimaced uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Me and my folks had plans, but they fell through. It happens; I’m not upset about it.” The melancholy look that overcame his face told another story, so he forced a nonchalant smile on his face to prevent Mina from noticing. “I didn’t want it to be a big thing, okay? You and Denki are the only two who know about my birthday, so please, just don’t make a big deal?” he pleaded. Mina stared at him with lidded eyes as she contemplated the request.
“All right. I won’t say anything,” Mina promised after a brief silence. Hanta sighed deeply in relief as she stood up to greet Tsuyu and Tooru as they came down the steps. Frowning, Hanta reclined back on his hands and stared down at the ornate stitching decorating Momo’s comforter. It wasn’t that he didn’t like big fancy parties or didn’t want his friends to know about his birthday. Hanta’d been really bummed out when the plans with his family had fallen through, and so he knew that if his friends did anything, he’d just be a killjoy because he wouldn’t be able to think about the fact it was the first year he couldn’t celebrate the occasion with his family. I’d only ruin their fun. It’s much better this way, he reasoned glumly. It was logical, but it didn’t alleviate the dull ache in his chest.
He forced a smile on his face as Tooru skipped over to dump an entire bin of stuffed animals into the center of the pillow fort floor. I’d only ruin their fun, he repeated hollowly.
~~~~~~~~~~
Twenty minutes later, the students were sprawled out underneath the tent of sheets stretched over the furniture, feasting on popcorn and snacks with their eyes glued to the flickering television screen. A blue glow enveloped the spacious tent, providing just enough light to see. They’d already had to duct-tape Mineta to the leg of one of the sofa’s because he’d tried to cop a feel on Momo. He’d kicked and screamed for a while, but soon contented himself with fantasizing over the two-dimensional girls running around the screen- so they’d duct-taped his mouth shut too.
Hanta lay flat on his belly with his legs kicked up and his ankles crossed over his lower back. He watched the anime with mild interest with his mouth pressed into his forearm as his black eyes reflected the flickering images on the screen. He could dimly hear Katsuki griping at Izuku to get the giant All Might plushie out of his space and the boy struggling to maneuver the giant stuffed hero without collapsing the tent. Suddenly, the screen flicked off, and a series of affronted groans rang out in the small space.
“Relax, relax, I’ll turn it back on in a minute!” Mina huffed as she crawled to the front of the pillow fort. “I have an important announcement.” Hanta sat up on his elbows, raising his eyebrows suspiciously at the pink girl. What is she planning…? He wondered. He jumped violently when she procured a party popper and burst it open, spilling streamers and confetti all over the place. “Happy birthday, Hanta!”
“Happy birthday!” the group chimed, and the pillow fort rang with more exploding party poppers. Hanta flailed in shock as the metallic streamers and confetti bits rained down upon him, lobbing a few pillows around and tangling himself up in the blankets. The lamp pole clanged as he banged his hand against it, and as it wobbled precariously, the sheets dipped in a little.
“Wh-what? Mina! What’s going on?” he whined as he rubbed the aching bones of his fingers. Mina giggled and waved the empty party popper at him.
“Did you really think all of us didn’t know about your birthday? We were going to surprise you tomorrow, but considering the circumstances, I thought a little change of plans was in order.” Hanta blinked as Denki draped himself over his shoulders from behind to grin brightly at him.
“Sorry that your plans with your folks fell through, dude- but did you really expect us to let you just sulk about it?” Hanta smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “Righto! Bring out the presents!” Hanta whirled around as Tsuyu and Fumikage began dragging small wrapped gifts from underneath the sofa.
“What the-? When did you-?”
“It’s all about misdirection!” Tooru giggled as she hugged one of her pink llama plushies. As they piled up the presents beside Hanta, the flap to the fort suddenly opened, spilling yellow light into the fort.
“Am I late?”
“Aizawa-sensei is in on this too?!” Hanta exclaimed in shock as the scruffy dark-haired teacher crouched down in the entrance to the fort. Mina clapped her hands excitedly.
“Sensei, sensei, come on in!” The teacher slowly inspected the pillow fort stuffed with his students, debating his dignity. He then shrugged and shambled inside, dragging his sleeping bag with him, which made Hanta believe he was totally intending on crashing in the pillow fort to begin with. He wormed inside the sleeping bag and tossed a gift card onto the pile of gifts before zipping himself up.
“What’re we watching?”
“Gifts first! Come on, Hanta, let’s go!” Mina demanded ecstatically, crawling over to drop a present into his lap. Hanta laughed lightly and picked up the gift, shaking it experimentally to rattle whatever was contained within. He then paused to smile brightly, a few tears prickling in the corners of his eyes from how thrilled he was.
“Thanks, everybody. This is the best birthday I could’ve asked for.”
“Stop being sappy and open the damn present!” Katsuki cried and whacked him in the head with a pillow. As Hanta doubled over, laughing and holding his head, Ochako began to scold him.
“Violence is not the answer!”
“Yeah, but it is an option,” Denki grinned devilishly. He caught Ochako by surprise with a stuffed llama to the face, making her fall over onto her back and accidentally slap Momo in the forehead. The black-haired girl cried out and grabbed a pillow to whack both Ochako and Denki upside the head.
“Stop it! We’ll collapse the fort!”
“PILLOW FIGHT!” Mina yelled, completely ignoring Momo’s sentiment. Suddenly pillows and stuffed animals were flying everywhere, and all thoughts of gifts were abandoned. Aizawa had retrieved the remote and was now watching the anime with much interest, completely ignoring the carnage. As Eijirou whacked him in the face, Hanta fell onto his back, cackling as he held a pillow defensively over his face.
Mina landed on her belly beside him, face red with breathlessness and exhilaration.
“Not bad for the Goddess of Fun, huh?” she mused, ducked as Izuku crawled after Katsuki, who’d absconded with his precious plushie. Hanta laughed and nodded.
“Yeah, not bad at all!” Not bad at all, he repeated silently as a serene smile graced on his face. He then gripped his pillow and dove into the fray with a war cry. What better things did he have to do on a Friday night, anyway?
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @lovelusional @wesparklebitch
#bnhabookclub#bnhabookclub bingo event#bnhabookclub celebrating sero event#class 1-a#hanta sero#sero hanta#my hero academia#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero#mha fanfic#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#bnha fanfiction#my hero academia fanfic#my hero academia fanfiction#boku no hero academia fanfic#boku no hero academia fanfiction
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