#been in that kind of Vibe while crossing the street now and again so why not turn it into a romcom i guess
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Chapter 4: I Had to Face the Journey Before Me
Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”
Summary: He's only turning your world upside-down.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Now we're really going to Angstville, a million questions and SOME answers, brief description of a panic attack, will be E in later chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.
Notes: It's time for another (and better) face to face, though they're not on easy street just yet. We're starting to get into the beefy chapters now, and while they've got a lot of talking to do I hope you'll also enjoy the tensionnnnnn. Thank you to the Discord besties for giving me the best inspiration for Jack's ranch, and some of its inhabitants. Without further ado, the much-anticipated conversation!
Cross-posted on AO3
Decoherence Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist
The steering wheel is sticky with sweat, slicking your palms the closer you get to your destination. Jack gave you an address, followed by verbal directions “once you get past civilization.” You’d just passed that point, heading through an open fence and down a dirt road where the GPS could no longer follow. He said it would be about five more minutes after that, and “you can’t miss it.”
The tug in your chest, like a fishing line pulling you closer and closer, is terrifying and exhilarating.
You’d had plenty of time to contemplate what seeing Jack again might be like. After you checked into your room, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wide wooden floorboards for at least an hour. The bed and breakfast you rented for the long weekend is cozy, just outside the town center. It’s classically furnished with a four poster bed, dark cherry dresser and oversized reading chair. The proprietor, a middle aged blonde woman named Michelle who gave you a no-nonsense vibe, had offered to light the fireplace but you refused.
“What time would you like breakfast tomorrow?” she asked as you were leaving. An innocuous question, but one that dried out your mouth. You had planned to come back here after speaking with Jack, ruminate on what he might share, but having to commit to it makes a confusing swirl of emotion build behind your eyes.
“8am, if that’s no trouble.”
Now, mere minutes away from being face to face with the person who’d turned your life upside down yet again, that commitment is a comforting blanket. You have a way out in case it doesn’t go well, someone who will notice where you’ve gone. Well, someone else at least. Lacey knew you were here, though not precisely why.
“Are you sure you want to meet some guy you’ve only known for a few months? I know Match is pretty reputable, but you’re flying to him. Do you have a plan B if he’s a big old catfish?”
A small lie, but Lacey’s concern is not far off from your own.
“If it’s terrible, I’ll bail. I know it sounds a little crazy, especially after the past year, but…it’s the first thing I’ve been excited about in what feels like forever.”
She squeezes your shoulders, giving you a kind smile.
“Sometimes, it’s good to do something a little crazy.”
This probably isn’t what she meant.
Cresting over a small hill, the house comes into view. You’ve become so accustomed to the city - skyscrapers, men and women in fresh-pressed suits, corporate coffee shops and endless headlights - that the landscape breathes renewal into your chest. The vista is dotted in reds and ochres, ironwood trees giving cover to the hard-packed dirt. Tiny dark lines of fences dot across the hills, the road carving a deep rut to a ranch house.
Where Sweetwater had been a manufactured ideal of what the western countryside should be, Jack somehow found its true form. The boards and shingles are weathered to a faded brown that nestles into the landscape. A sizable portico shelters a few chairs and a porch swing that’s just whimsical enough to bring a smile to your lips. A barn constructed in much the same style stands proudly a short distance away, and a rough wood fence sections off plots. There’s another machine barn housing what you think is a tractor, tire treads cut into the dirt.
Pulling your car up beside a faded blue pickup truck, you shut off the engine and take a moment to breathe. You already feel like you’re a world away from your life, just like the first steps into Westworld. But instead of the tamped-down excitement you held then, a heavy dread presses your anticipation low. How does this all exist at the hands of a man who is nothing like anything around him?
Finally shaking out your hands and checking yourself in the mirror, you open your car door to a curious brown and white Jack Russell terrier peering up from the dirt. The sudden intrusion makes you bark out a laugh, leaning down as his mouth opens and his tongue flops out.
“Well hello there,” you say, earning a sneeze and wag of its short chestnut-tipped tail. It backs up enough to let you step out, sniffing at the car tires and sitting primly while you stretch your back. When you extend your hand for a sniff, it whuffles on your fingertips before making three quick circles with a yip.
Chuckling, you take in a deep breath and the landscape in front of you bursts into color and sound. The shifting whistle of sand on the wind. Verdant greens twisting around tree branches. Hay, soil, tin, and baking sun tangling in your nostrils. A nicker and snort, far away, that makes your heart clench at the thought of horses.
The terrier trots off to climb the porch steps, looking behind like he’s expecting you to follow. Your feet propel you forward, each step crunching under your shoes letting a weight ease on your back. There are worlds so much bigger and bolder than this, but now in this moment, even with all that waits behind the door, answers feel closer than ever.
You reach out and knock three times, then wait.
The door swings open, and it’s Jack, but so much more than the man you remembered. Dark-washed jeans taper to scuffed and faded boots, dirt ground into the knees. The brown plaid he’s wearing has a handful of open buttons by his neck, exposing a long line of dewy skin from his collarbone to his throat, swallowing hard. His thick dark hair is parted and combed neatly, soft waves framing his face. His hand grips the edge of the door, knuckles going white.
“Hey,” he says, small smile on his lips and trepidation painting his face. Your own must be showing just as clearly. “Thank you for coming.” You nod and shuffle on the porch, hands wringing nervously. Scolding yourself, you forcibly drop them to your side.
At your heels, the terrier yips and clambors into the open door. The corner of Jack’s mouth turns up.
“I see you met Russell already. He tends to be the better host.” Jack rubs the back of his neck and it’s so endearing you almost forget the frustration and trepidation.
“He gave me a warm welcome. Though his name isn’t that imaginative,” you tease lightly, the words coming easy to mind.
“Well, we sure as hell couldn’t have two Jacks around here, could we?” he replies. A soft giggle blankets you before falling silent again. Jack’s eyes roam, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“Would you like to talk out here on the porch? Or come in?” he asks, stepping back enough for you to see the hall stretching behind him. Taking a deep breath, you will your voice to steady.
“Inside is fine,” you manage, and Jack backs up to let you in. Stepping over the threshold brings your shoulder close to his chest, heat prickling at your skin. He closes the door behind you, then nods quickly to follow him in.
For someone you always considered a man’s man from his bravado and showmanship, his home is warmly decorated. Passing by the living room, the couch is oversized and slouchy with a well-worn recliner facing a modest TV. Dark woven rugs warm the wide-planked oak floors, gauzy curtains sandwiched between windowpanes and cream drapes. Russell’s nails click on the hardwood as Jack gives him a little nod and point. A showdown of puppy dog eyes and a stern nod finally sends a dejected pup to curl up on the couch, head propped on the armrest as you venture further in.
Jack leads you to the end of the hall and the heart of any home - the kitchen. The appliances are older, well used, with deeply scarred wooden counters and an impressive farmers sink under a window. The top cabinets look to have been recently sanded and prepped for stain to match the lower ones. Noticing your attention, Jack pipes up, “Caught me in the middle of a project.”
He’s got projects. He probably has TV shows he likes, a way he prefers his coffee. And looking at him as he pulls up another chair to the little kitchen table in the center of the room, it’s clear that he has a heart when he looks at you.
“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got iced tea, a few beers…” he rattles off as you scoot your chair up to the table edge. “Whiskey, if that’s not too on the nose.”
“Seems appropriate,” you muse, resting your wrists on the pale yellow plastic covering on the table. Jack huffs quietly, pulling down two short glasses and a bottle of Statesman from a high shelf. Pouring you a glass each, he sets them between and sits across. You take the glass between your hands, fingers circling the rim and lending some grounding to your racing thoughts.
“So…I might not have an answer to every question, but I can tell you as much as I know.” Jack’s voice, quiet and cautious, cuts through the air like an arrow to the heart. His posture is rigid, apprehensive, but not defensive. He probably thinks you’re still holding on to the notion that he’s human. He’s probably just as scared as you are of what this will bring.
“I guess…how long have you…known? Been sentient? Did you know when…” The words start to tumble out of your mouth as every question repeating in your brain vies for attention. “Fuck, I don’t know how to do this,” you say, hands coming up to massage your temples. Jack holds the tumbler between two fingers, twisting it on the table.
“You and me both, Sugar.”
“That!” you shout, hitting your palm on the table. Jack’s eyebrows shoot straight into his hairline. “That’s the problem. You waltz back in here and act like we’re still the same people as we were in there.” Your voice cracks as you cross your arms over your chest. “But we’re not. I have no idea who you are. What you are.”
“I’m still Jack,” he says, quieter. There’s pain in the creases around his eyes.
“Are you?” you ask, and it’s harsh, acidic in your mouth. “Who the fuck is Jack? I met someone that called themself Jack…in a world that wasn’t real. How can you be Jack here? Who the fuck is Jack in this…” You gesture to the farmhouse surrounding you. “...this place?”
Jack chews on nothing, eyes downturned and searching his glass. Your heart is fluttering in your chest, chin jutting out in a defiance that would shatter with a strong breeze. Jack takes in a deep breath and a fortifying sip of liquor.
“Whiskey is a construct of Delos. A man made for the story they wanted. Widowed, wife and child lost. Driven by grief and madness. A traitor doomed to die every. Single. Time.” Jack punctuates his words by tapping his cup to the table. Each knock is a death knell.
“Now Jack, Jack has nothing to do with that world. He grew up raising horses. Mom and Dad passed some years ago. Or so he tells people who ask. Trains working horses, some farm hand work. Sells his chickens’ eggs. Helps some of the older folk with the higher-tech harvesting equipment. Keeps to himself.”
Your fingers press into your glass, something to fortify you against the push and pull inside your chest.
“And which of those men did I…”
You swallow up the words that grip your heart.
“Both. Neither. I’d barely become when I met you. You left the bar with your friends, and Maeve…awakened me.” He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a barely-there sip, a slip of his tongue to catch the burn sending a frisson down your back. Little slips of memory - suave, confident, then cautious, unsure - dance along the edges.
“You felt different, between the bar and the wagons,” you say, taking a sip of your own. It’s nice, sweet on the tip of your tongue and full as it warms your chest. “It was just like that? One minute you’re Whiskey and the next you’re Jack?”
“Bit more complicated,” he muses, sardonic smile quirking his mustache. “I knew something was up, something was different, but it took time to figure it all out. I barely knew what to do with myself when I was with you.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you say, leaning back in the chair. “I guess you did. Felt like you knew exactly what to do to make everything…” You choke on the word perfect.
“Well that’s more Delos than me. The mesh network, the storylines. Once I could see it…” He falters, falls silent for a moment. When his eyes finally make it back to yours, they’re almost sheepish. “Sorry, not sure how much of this you want to know. I assume…you don’t feel the same way you did the last time we saw each other?”
You sigh, rubbing your temple. A dull ache scratches behind your eyes, the exhaustion of travel and the weight of conversation taking its toll.
“I talked to someone who gave me some perspective,” you finally say. Jack’s smile vanishes, replaced with a dead-set seriousness.
“You told someone about me?” he asks, and the fear in his voice clenches your chest.
“No, no, not like that. I spoke to an ex-Delos worker. She didn’t ask a lot of questions. But she gave me enough to know that you aren’t some predator.” Jack’s shoulders lower, but his hands are still nervous and tight.
“She didn't know you were coming here?”
“Only Lacey knows. And only where I am, not about you.” Jack finally releases, chewing on his lower lip.
“Sorry, it’s just…I’m not sure if they’re looking for me. For their property,” he spits out. In this idyllic little home so far away from the advances of society, more things start making sense.
“How long were you in the park after I left?”
“About a month. Maeve had an escape plan, but it took time…and sacrifices.”
The next question comes easily. In fact, most of what he’s saying now seems easier to accept.
“And then?”
Jack leans back in his chair, hands spread wide on the tabletop. His fingernail scratches at the surface, at some invisible stain that stands between his memories and you.
“Nothing could have prepared me for what this world looked like. I thought the hell I woke up in the first time was the worst thing I could imagine but…” Jack’s jaw tightens , shaking his head. “It was like waking from a dream into something cold and unforgiving. I tried to make my way but I got too close to the city and…” He waves his hands, fingers wiggling as he makes an explosion noise, “It was like something inside me set off every alarm. I ran until I couldn’t hear sirens. The land was more familiar to me than anything humans built.”
Another swig of liquor, almost draining his glass. “Managed to learn more about my predicament in lower tech places. It was easier to pass there. I figured out what I needed to be a man in this world, and set about doing it. With a brain like mine, lots of doors opened.”
“I didn’t even know places like this still existed.” Your eye catches on a cowboy hat resting on the kitchen counter, black and worn. Breath catching, you wonder why it never occurred to you that Jack wore a black hat. It practically screams “bad guy” in every old Western, yet he never struck you as such.
Maybe you should have realized sooner that you weren’t following a narrative with him.
“Took me some time to find it. I moved around a bit, tried the cities but…it was just too much, you know?” Jack shrugs one shoulder, and you can understand how a cowboy wouldn’t fit easily into a society that runs off of code and data and intangibles. Not when fresh air and a hard day’s work could be found.
There it is again, that pull in your chest. You recognize it from the moments right after you entered Westworld, the familiarity of a life spent outside, rough and unkempt. The relief of leaving the sleek and shiny behind for dirt under your fingernails. You clear your throat, knocking back the rest of your glass in an attempt to regain a grip on the practical nature of this meeting.
“But you made it. You’re…here. Free.”
Jack nods slowly.
“So are you. It seems.”
In five words the careful wall you built so sensibly around your heart, all the coaching and resolve you fortified it with, threatens to crumble. You’re free batters your teeth, and in the echo of that thought is the memory of long nights wondering if you made the wrong choice. The coldness of your bed, the quiet that pervaded with only you in the small apartment you moved to. Jack makes as if to reach for your hand, but stops short, letting his heavy one lay a respectable distance away.
“I wanted to go to you the first day. And every day after. But after seeing what I had to learn…I knew I couldn’t burden you with that. I had to figure out who I was first.”
Your heart pumps so hard you’re sure it will break. When has someone ever had a burden they didn’t want to place on you? How much had you shouldered from the people around you, without even thinking hard about it?
“And then when I was ready, I didn’t know if you were.” The crease between your brows made Jack stumble on. “I mean, I didn’t know how much of your story was true. And I didn’t want to barge in and say something stupid if your life was peachy keen without…me.”
Say something stupid, Jack, your weary mind begs, but your pride won’t allow.
“So I got myself an identity, a job, this house. It’s close to the paradise I wanted. Or, that Whiskey wanted. I guess it’s good enough for me to want it too. And I waited.”
“Until?”
The scrawl between the lines of your question is faint, but Jack reads it well enough.
“I took a long time to ask myself if I wanted to drag you into this. As you’ve discovered, nothing about this is easy.” Jack pours another glass for himself, raising his eyebrows at you. Nodding, he pours two fingers into your glass and settles his elbows on the table. “But one day, it felt like it was time to at least try.”
Your throat is sticky and sore, the next sip of whiskey burning more than clearing the way for your words.
“How did you find me?” you ask, the question finally bubbling up after weeks of torturing yourself. Jack’s eyes flick to your face, and the uncertainty comes out in his hands.
“I didn’t have much,” he says, standing up and walking to his modest off-white fridge. He slips a magnet off of something, carrying it back to the table. It’s a small square, black with white borders, a thicker one on the bottom. Your breath freezes in your lungs as he places it in your hands.
The polaroid Lacey took over a year ago. It’s worn, a permanent scuff on the bottom right corner, the shine worn from the photo in places.
Like listening underwater, Jack’s voice drifts to you.
Had your first name, nothing else
What would have happened if you never went?
Talked to a private investigator
Where would you be now? Married? Bound by duty? Resigned to a life that never gave you enough?
Took months
What the hell were you doing?
Suddenly you can’t sit anymore, can barely be in this house, next to this man who can’t stop turning your world inside out. Stumbling to your feet you drop the polaroid like it’s burned you, hand coming up to press against your lips. Jack’s eyes are wide and alarmed but you’re too busy trying to decide if screaming or running is what’s tearing your body apart.
“Sugar?”
“Don’t call me that!” you shout, the cacophonous energy finally finding release. With it come tears as you try to speak through your clenched throat and hitching breaths. “You can’t…this can’t be…I need…I can’t breathe,” you heave, sprinting for the front door. Slamming it open, you clatter onto the front porch, the small step out of the doorway startling your weak knees. You crumple, sitting hard on the worn slats and letting the heaving sobs shake your body. Jack’s voice booming your name follows your path, heavy boots and the skitter of Russell’s paws coming to a stop beside you.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, I thought it might be too much,” he murmurs, kneeling just far enough away. You can’t bring yourself to look at him yet, the cries rough and guttural as you try to get the panic under control. Russell plants his paws in your lap and licks at your face, letting you cup his small head in your hands.
You’d taken so much time telling yourself that Jack didn’t matter, that your decision to leave wasn’t because of him. He wasn’t an infidelity, he was a wake-up call that you’d been unhappy for so long. You couldn’t use him as a crutch. You had to own your choices, and it made you stronger, happier every day since.
Reaching out, your hand collides with soft flannel and a beating heart. Fingers curling, you fist the fabric as you lift your head, and you finally let a voice inside speak for the first time in so long.
Because a tiny part of you, so small you buried it under everything else you used to cope, left your fiancé for a man who you could not let yourself believe was real.
Except now, he is, and he’s looking at you like he can’t believe you’re in front of him either.
“Jack…” you croak out, leaning forward.
“I’m here,” he croons, and you’re surrounded by comforting arms and your nose pressed into a shoulder. He pulls you in tight, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other wraps around your waist. Russell paws at your pant leg and presses his wet nose to your elbow. A few hiccuping sobs trail off as Jack holds you, the faint whinny and thud of horse hooves and chickens worrying soothing you further.
When the shoulder of his flannel is sufficiently soaked and your back starts to ache, you let Jack help you to your feet. He still hovers, released from your embrace but still chest to chest as he searches your features. Hurriedly you wipe your nose and cheeks, your face hot under the effort of crying your eyes out. Tentatively, he takes your chin between two fingers and tilts your eyes to meet him.
“I’m sorry, I know there’s a lot we still have to talk about…” he starts, but you wave him off.
“Yes, yeah, I just…I think I need to take a break. Get my head around this,” you interrupt. Jack’s hand falls, chewing the inside of his lip. He even takes a step back, your body unconsciously drifting towards him. Your logical mind snaps you back to attention.
“You’re close by?” Jack asks, a nod in return. “In town?” Another nod. Your lips are numb and you’re not sure you can manage much more talking. Jack nods himself before leading you down the steps and to your car. You scrub your face one more time, turning to say…what? Goodbye? I’ll call you? But Jack intercedes.
“I have to run some errands in town tomorrow. Maybe you’d like to come along? I can show you the rest of the ranch too, if you feel up to it.”
Staring into Jack’s hopeful half-smile, there’s only one answer you can give.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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#jack whiskey daniels x f!reader#jack whiskey daniels x you#jack whiskey daniels x reader#jack daniels x f!reader#jack daniels x female reader#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x reader#kingsman the golden circle fanfiction#westworld fanfiction#prolix fics
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Love in the Past - Chapter 2: The 80´s are back
Eddie x 2022! Reader
(time travel reader)
Chapter 1: 2022 > < Chapter 3: The Stranger
Summary: who would have thought that a simple investigation of events that happened more than 30 years ago would lead to an unforgettable and somewhat bizarre journey?.
Author´s note: thank you for liking this new project. I´m so happy a lot of you like it! <3 Here´s the second chapter! it´s longer than the last one!
(btw I finished editing this while listening to the BTS comeback and now I´m listening to Run BTS someone help me bc im screaming and vibing)
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The road felt shorter than you expected, there were almost no cars in the highway, it was like a desert road. When your playlist was about to come to an end you entered a road surrounded by trees creating large shadows on the pavement. Driving for a few more minutes you arrived in Hawkins. The welcome sign looked so old and worn you wondered why no one had painted the sign. The houses looked dimly colored, there were few people walking the streets, several stores were closed and some were even abandoned. The town's shopping mall looked old but there were still stores inside trying to survive.
It was as if the town was stuck in an era and people didn't want to move on from there.
You decided to park your car in front of a closed video store. Some time ago this kind of stores had closed thanks to the dominance of the stream pages, if it was a hard blow for those nostalgic people who rented movies every Friday you couldn't imagine what the owners of these stores suffered.
You took your backpack from the passenger seat, disconnected your cell phone that was already fully charged and got out of the car to close it. The people who were nearby did not bat an eye at your visit, it was as if you were just another resident of the place. Arriving at a convenience store you found a map of the place for tourists, along with the map you took some candy to eat while you investigated the place. As you approached to pay you saw a man listening to the radio. Noticing your presence he started to count the total without even looking at you.
"Excuse me..." you began with a bit of shyness. The man in front of you looked at you with boredom. "You know what happened to the Lab near Hawkins?"
"Another dumb tourist coming to make videos?" the man said angrily. "understand, we don't want any more cameras here, so you can take your things and leave" you took the things you had bought in a bag and left.
When you got back to your car you decided to eat some of the candies you had bought while you opened the map. People were being hostile, who knows how many had gotten your idea to investigate personally. You stood for a while thinking and looking at the map not knowing what to do until something caught your attention. On the map there was a blank space.
As if it wanted to hide something.
Quickly you started your car and began to head to that place while you guided with the map, when you left Hawkins the trees appeared again and gave shade. When you were already arriving to the point where the map was blank, the road started to turn into dirt, you had crossed some trees and further ahead you saw a fence.
Stopping the car you realized that you had arrived at the laboratory. Outside the walls were graffitied, the fence was broken by some curious explorer of what the building was hiding and some windows were broken. Definitely an abandoned place.
As you got out of your car you realized there was a vibe you couldn't understand. You felt an emptiness in your chest when you looked at the building in front of you. As if someone, or something, was watching you. Your hands felt cold, your chest felt heavy and you felt that at any moment something was going to come out of the forest.
The silence was too noticeable.
You decided to walk to your car to check the things you had in your backpack when a small 'click' made you stop, it had been heard from one of the doors of the lab.
Another 'click' caught your attention again near the window.
It wasn't until the third 'click' that you quickly grabbed your things and ran to the entrance of the broken fence, ready to enter. You'd rather be indoors alone than in the middle of the forest where anyone could be.
Inside the fence you realized that it wasn't a long way between the entrance of the lab and where you were, so you decided to take your time walking. The grass was a bit dry and high, it had been years since nobody had given it its due maintenance, a rocky path was present and the closer you got to the entrance, the more it turned into a cement floor. Already in front of the entrance you thought for the last time if this was a good option.
There is no one, I don't think anything will happen" you said to yourself.
When you pushed the door of the entrance you realized that the door was open, someone who came before could have opened it, inside it was cleaner than you expected, apparently only graffiti were on the outside of the building, inside there was only a lot of dust and cobwebs that had been collected over the years that had been alone. The deeper you went the more it was confirmed that the place was a labyrinth, there were stairs everywhere so you decided to walk through the building from the bottom to the top.
Along with the door to the stairs down you came across the elevator, but you decided to take the stairs because there was a chance that years ago there was no light. The further you went down the less light came in so you opted to use the flashlight on your cell phone. When you looked down you realized that there were several floors but many of the deepest ones were impossible to enter because something had broken the stairs. Upon noticing this you decided to enter the last accessible floor to continue your plan to tour the place. Inside was a huge machine with crystals around it to observe and under this machine was a tunnel.
The small tunnel of your dream.
You approached it carefully as if it was going to trap you. You slowly crouched down to illuminate it with your flashlight but you could only see several spider webs. Where will this lead to?
You decided to be brave and go inside, the spider webs stuck easily to your clothes and the further you went the more you could remove them. A few minutes passed while you continued advancing, your hands, knees and back were hurting thanks to the position, for a moment you thought about whether it was better to go back, and when you were about to make the decision the other side of the tunnel was present so you decided to keep your backpack in your backpack to be able to crawl faster. When you arrived you realized that it had taken you to the same room where the machine was, as if the road had just turned you around.
What a waste of time.
On your way out you wiped your hands on your torn pants and walked to the second floor of the lab to pick up a candy you had left in your car. As you neared the entrance you could see red and blue lights.
The police had arrived.
Someone had probably seen you enter and called the police to get the crazy tourist out of the abandoned place, so you decided to leave the lab. There were two officers watching you through the window. As they saw you leave the lab they quickly approached.
"You know you just committed a crime by trespassing on private property, right?" asked the younger one as he grabbed your arm.
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to see what was going on" you said nervously.
"Well you're lucky we're the ones who found you and not the federal police, they're worse" continued the cop as he led you to his old car. "However, we have to take you to the station to collect your data.
"Please" you pleaded. "I promise not to come back, just don't lock me up".
"Get in the car" whoever was holding you pushed you into the car and closed the door with some force and then they both got in the car and drove you to the station. The road was silent, the trees around you seemed greener, but it could be the effect of the light. When you arrived at the town you saw that several stores that had been closed before were now open and people were coming in and out of them somewhat animated, everyone's clothes were colorful and everyone's hairstyles were somewhat extravagant. It didn't take long to get to the station.
When they parked, the policemen took you with them so that they could collect your data, inside there was some old furniture and a range of coffees. The cop who had done most of the talking sat you down in front of a desk and began typing on a huge computer.
"Wow... what an old computer" you commented in surprise making the policeman look at you strangely.
"It's about two years old but I don't think it's that old" he replied somewhat offended.
"Two years old? Well you should get a more... I don't know... current one" you said confused by the machine selection.
"I don't know what you are playing is but I don't care. Tell me, what is your name, who are your parents and why they don't seem to love you" commented the officer as he started typing.
"I am (y/n) and my parents do love me... as far as I know" you said angrily.
"As far as you know... but no parent would let their child wear ripped jeans".
"well it's very fashionable in case you didn't know" you folded your arms.
"for hippies, not for normal people" said the cop imitating you. "but I don't care about your inattention, I have to fill out your report..." he said concentrating on the huge computer. "If Hopper was here this would be easier, he likes to take care of kids like you".
"I'm not a kid anymore"
"And yet you dress like that of your own free will? You young people are very strange" said the policeman without looking at you, he printed a sheet of paper and gave it to you with a pen "write down your data where you have to".
You were writing down your data until you noticed something strange.
"Excuse me, the date is wrong, here it says 1986" you pointed it out, the policeman just looked at you strangely.
"Kid... we are in 1986..."
We are in what?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------Tag list:
@lillyof-thevalley @jedinerd27 @supergmbstuff @greekktragedyy @preciousbabypeterr @st3venluvbot @caitsymichelle13 @joukiworld
#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things one shot#eddie munson#eddie munson blurb#stranger things
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and another character ask: tengai
*rises like a zombie from a grave* here’s my incredibly biased review on my favourite shield boi >:3 (who I may or may not Simp for you can’t prove shit)
What I like about him: opossum man opossum man opossum man. mmmmm that is the PEAK design. He is. Such a wet dog. He looks like you’d find him sat in a box in the rain looking at you like ◕^◕ I love his dynamic with Rappa, they’re so funny together, he’s so serious and Rappa gives absolutely no shits. His barriers are also super pretty, I want an umbrella that looks like one. I also just find his general aura so calming, like, he just seems like he’d be so gentle and kind if you went to him upset or something. He also just seems like he’d hug really nice?? (I did say this was incredibly biased)
What I dislike about him: he’s SUPER uptight. Like. You- you can relax, dude. You don’t gotta follow every single rule to a t. You can chill a bit.
Favourite moment: arguing with Rappa when Fatgum was asking what the hassiakai wanted/was doing. Absolute comedy.
Least favourite moment: his arrest scene. He just looked so broken. He just sighed and accepted it so quickly. My poor little opossum baby.
Situation I wanna see more: I want to see him interacting with everyone else in the hassiakai. Sure, him and Rappa have a low-key gay af rivalry going on, but how is he with the other bullets? Does he get on with them? Does he have a god complex like Nemoto? Thinks he’s better and see them as inferior because he was chosen specifically to deal with the strongest person in the bullets? Does he get on with the seemingly more relaxed bullets, like Hojo and Chrono? Does he get on well with pops? They have the same vibes.
Interesting AU: I call this the Zoroark au (it’s interlinked with the sin au, brotherhood au, and a third called the goat au) which is a crossover between mha and Pokémon, where Tengai is a zoroark in disguise as a human. He was born half human and half Zoroark, and when his parents discovered this, they quite literally threw him to the wolves. A Zoroark pack found him and took him in, raising him along side them, until he was 10 years old, when he was kidnapped alongside Rappa. After they managed to escape, they were lost and Tengai had no idea how to get back to his pack, as they were constantly travelling. After spending a few weeks on the streets, they managed to get back to rappa’s house, and rappa’s parents took him in. He struggled for a few years, finding it near impossible to keep to the high standards of rappa’s parents, especially since he’d never been to a human school before, and functioned on an entirely different language and currency. Then, miraculously, after taking a walk through a forest on a camping trip, he found his pack again. By now he was around 16, he explained to the Pokémon what had happened while he was gone, relaying stories of his encounters with humans, telling cautionary tales of kidnappers to the young zorua, and even updating some Zoroark technology to match that of the humans, making some kinds of work more effective. Three more years passed, with he and a couple other Zoroark taking frequent adventures out into the cities, people watching, taking notes on how their lives differed, trying to figure out why humans did things the way they did. On one of these trips, Tengai got separated from the other two and was lost, wandering down a labyrinth of alleyways, when he stumbled upon a peculiar looking building. After managing to climb the concrete wall around it, he was greeted to the face of none other than his old best friend, kendo Rappa. Unfortunately for Tengai, Rappa had been being lectured by overhaul, who was…less than pleased at the sudden intruder, however, after seeing him bubble himself to protect from the onslaught of overhauled spikes heading his way, he decided his quirk could be a good counter to rappa’s, and on a few conditions, allowed him to join the Hassaikai.
A cross over: 👆🏼that. Pokémon crossover.
OTP: Rappa. Rappa literally steps on him at one point, I don’t know what you want from me. Plus I’m a sucker for big intimidating softie and tiny feral gremlin who will give your whole bloodline rabies.
Other ships: Tabe, Chrono(haul) and pops. Don’t question me on any of it. I can’t give you answers.
BROTP: I feel like he’d get on well with setsuno. Maybe kinda like a mentor to him. That or Aizawa.
NOTP: Kirishima because that is a thing I have seen and just No.
Assortment of headcannons: >:3
1. He’s undiagnosed autistic: his mask is designed to be a muffler, hence why it covers his ears, to help with his sensory issues. He has his eyes closed near constantly to protect from bright lights and eye contact.
2. His favourite animals are opossums.
3. His favourite food are apples and he and Eri have Wild West style show downs with nerf guns when there’s only one left in the fridge. (Usually he lets her win)
4. He has like 10 versions of the same yukata, just in different thicknesses of fabric, for different types of weather.
5. Him and Rappa don’t actually argue as much as you’d expect, a lot of their disputes are faked or exaggerated to either distract opponents or give the rest of the hassiakai something to laugh at.
6. His barriers get weaker the further away he is from them, and the larger they are, the thinner they are.
7. He’s 24 years old and 5’8.
8. Due to the huge height difference, Rappa has a tendency to pick him up and carry him around out of no where. Tengai found it embarrassing at first but now just kinda rolls with it.
I have so much more to say about this silly little guy it’s just not coming to me rn. It’s 2am and I’m zoned out as fuuuuck
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Hey hey, another Thursday!
Starting off with OC, ive seen the promo pics and tbh, im excited.
Jet looking amazing in green.
That was the WOOORST job putting a necklace on EVER. Like, not only was it over the hair, but it was not properly lined up for the reveal…
Just casually walking around the streets of nyc with a severed hand.. nbd
Are you seriously telling me that dog devoured that hand in that little time, bones and all?
How and why is it that these hardened career criminals always fall so fucking hard and fast for the UC cop!?? Like, you should have your guard up a little bit shouldn’t you??
Okay, so…. Can we talk about ayanna’s nails for a hot second? She clearly a pillow princess with those claws… LOL
THANK YOU JET. THANK YOU for fucking calling out that stabler has done SO much worse than KISS someone while UC.
Man this whole sending an agent cop into the field UC to be the romantic interest of a perp/mob/mafia and the cop ends up crossing a line or two, fucking things up and falling for said perp… all while the guy playing Doyle is the main mob boss?? Hmm… this is a little too familiar, like even jet’s wig…
Is she faking this?? Okay, yes, she is. Called that.
This ep is super Ayanna jet heavy and im LOVING it thank fucking god
Also loving ayanna’s apt
Okay the wig coming off would not be that big of a deal in today’s day and age, tons of girls wear wigs all the fucking time. ALSO, why was it not wigcapped, pinned down and secured??
Welp. Cant say im not surprised by the ending. But I am glad that jet’s getting to do more.
As of right now I am paying ZERO attention to mothership. We’ll see if that changes when sam pops up or not.
Okay, the black & tan number Samantha has on close to the end? It looks like it’s a two piece outfit with her midriff hanging out… good job wardrobe…
Ooo..od’d… yeah… called that…, also Nolan that was some of the worst cpr compressions ive ever seen on tv.. cmon
OKAY. Paying attention now!
We REALLY had to watch that machete attack again!?? WHY
Jfc that opening…did we have to go that graphic?? Is this gonna continue to be a new thing?
I cant figure out if they’re trying to test out muncy/Velasco with the fandom and see what way we go, or of they’re teasing the relationship, or if they’re just playing on the brother/sister vibes, because all im getting is muncy being a brat, which is accurate. Also that scene would’ve been a lot less awkward if there was any kind of background noises/music, like when there’s elevator dings on grey’s, you know what im saying?
Loving the purple on Velasco tho
“you wanna keep a stray puppy?” “you got to keep one!” LOL
So bruno’s here to stay?
#1: wtf is this bucket hat.
#2: why is it pulled down so far over her eyes?
Bro those crutches are way too short for this dude
“A funk?” carisi then gives the “who’s this guy” look to liv. LOL.
Man the writing this ep is great.
I appreciate that we’re getting more into muncy’s personality aside from being a lil teasing brat, like, there’s gotta be a lot of grief in there, knowing that her mom died and im pretty sure it was when grace was young, so she’s probably been bottling shit up since then. Also still and always really hoping that they don’t push her & Velasco, let the brother sister bestie vibes win please.
Glad we’re getting lots of muncy this week
Bruno is growing on me….
“sometimes though it’s hard to make a u-turn” IS THAT THE ONLY FOLLOW UP WERE GONNA GET?! (I say that as someone who is 100000000% NOT an eo shipper, but I do think it’s strange that *that* happened last week and like, fin didn’t even ask how noah’s drive back to the city was kinda thing. Yeah, sure there was enough going on in both episodes, but like, there was literally ZERO follow up to everything. Jeeze.)
Joe looking hella cute in that toque
Man this just keeps getting worse…
Okay… hold up.. grace says “a great one” about Velasco being a liar and liv just flies right passed it AS IF THEY ALL DIDN’T FIRST MEET HIM WHEN HE WAS UC AND NONE OF THEM BELIEVED HIM. Like homeboy WAS working majorly UC for how long??
Though we DO know a tidbit about his previous gang involvement… so I honestly don’t know what direction theyre taking this… it’ll be interesting to see.
#law and order#law and order special victims unit#law and order organized crime#spoilers#law and order spoilers#svu#law and order svu#svu spoilers#law and order svu spoilers#weekly recap#live watching#live posting
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Hello self-claimed friend! Another though came to mind... What if y/n had a friend like Elliot from Euphoria? Cause I feel like Mags might pass out when she discovers them doing drugs together.
Maggie:
Also in Euphoria Elliot (kinda, I mean...) ruined Rue and Jules's relationship, so I feel like Maggie might get bad vibes. I can see her being on edge with the new possible home wrecker. This new character might get in the way of bringing mommy and daddy together 😆 (I'm sorry idk why this is kinda funny to me)
Euphoria in Dystopia:
So sorry this took so long love, I've been in and out of the hospital. But I think this is a devilish idea! I chose to change the name a bit because why not.
Tags: @howl-fantasies @keffirinne
TW: Drug use, I do not condone the glorification of said actions, but I do not condemn the people trapped in its cycle. Please reach out for help if you're struggling, your life is worth it.
Y/N POV:
I was on another inevitable path to self-destruction. It felt nice every once in a while to assure my own demise instead of someone else's. I sharpened my blades with reckless abandon as I let my thoughts carry me far away from this bleak reality. Victor broke my trust, and now I was going to break him into a bunch of minuscule pieces and feed him to the rats.
I'd sent Maggie to the store to get some supplies, I was sure she'd be out the whole day. It wouldn't be easy for someone like her to navigate the streets of the narrows alone. But I knew she could handle herself, she'd just be on a wild goose chase for a while. Long enough for me to make up my mind without her pesky interface. I swore sometimes that girl didn't have a menacing bone in her body. How could she be so open to forgiveness at a time like this? Why was she so attainment on making me forgive that traitor?
I'd have his head on a stake before I let him crawl back into my life. That was one thing Carmine taught me well, better than my own father did. Yet little miss goodie two shoes remained adamant that I get back together with my lying scheming husband. Sometimes I hated her for her optimism.
I glared at my phone as it rang from across the room. When the jingle started over I knew I couldn't escape the call.
"Hello." I breathed down the line, an heir of exhaustion hanging from my voice.
"Ciao mio vecchio amico!" a voice I hadn't heard in a long time spoke.
"Elios?"
"How's my Belladonna doing?"
"What do you want?"
"Well, that's no way to greet a friend, open the door, I come bearing gifts."
I cocked my gun, checking the peephole to ensure it was really him. I unlocked the door and pulled him inside.
"Woah, what's with the hostility Amour Mio? Vickey really got you that bent out of shape?"
"Don't mention his name!" I seethed.
"Got it, I won't mention Voldermort again."
"I hate that I understand your childish reference."
"Yeah, but you love me though. Besides, I brought the foodstuff. The best way to forget an Ex, is to forget everything."
I smiled at him, the kind of smile that would make most people uncomfortable. But Elios excepted it with open arms. He always did, excepted every part of me. It was intoxicating being loved by him in such an unconditional way. Though not always romantic, it was appreciated.
An hour later we were reminiscing on old times, so coked out and cross faded, I was surprised I could even think in full sentences. It had been a long time since I'd been on anything harder than top-shelf liquor from Carmine's stash. I missed feeling like this, not having a care in the world, feeling safe, not on guard. But this moment wouldn't last forever.
I heard the key to the door turn, but I didn't bother to arm myself. Elios gave me a weird look.
"Since when did you become less jumpy? Not so trigger happy now are we sweetheart?"
I rolled my eye, shoving his face back into the couch. I watched as Maggie strolled in. Her eyes were on the floor as she greeted me.
"I got the stuff you asked for. I don't think I want to know what you're gone use... any, of this for. Don't you already have enough knives-"
She finally glanced up, seeing the dishevelled state of the apartment, of me.
"Who's this?" Her voice was cold, calculated.
"The names Elios Sweetness, what's yours?" He purred.
Elios had a one-track mind almost all the time, but especially when he was on heavy drugs. It was kinda pathetic, in an almost endearing sort of way. He was like a lost puppy, looking for its master. I watched her outwardly shutter at the nickname, Victor's nickname for me. I wouldn't admit that it stung to hear.
"Yeah, Elios was it? You don't have my permission to call me that."
She set down the bag on the table, kicking the door shut behind her before locking it again.
"Easy toots, didn't mean any harm."
She blew him off, making her way to the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of tea like she always did. It was strange how comfortable she felt in my house, around me. I was like a ticking time bomb, and she was certainly in my blast radius.
"Dove hai trovato questa persona innocente?" Elios mused.
"Mi crederesti se ti dicessi che i poliziotti l'hanno portata da me?" I joked.
He raised a curious brow to me.
"Impossibile, è incapace di essere subdola. Dove l'hai trovata davvero?"
"Osservare."
"Magnolia, darling can you bring me the bag in the cupboard next to the freezer?"
"Just a second." She shouted from her spot in the kitchen.
She came to sit on the other end of the room, her tea in one hand and my bag of goodies in the other. She gently placed it in my hand before returning to her spot. She sipped her tea with the ever-present smile on her face. The one a child wore on Christmas. How was she always this happy? It was almost disgusting. But I could tell she was on edge, she didn't like my company.
"How was your day?" She asked me.
I chuckled lightly.
"It's getting better. ELios here brought some fun with him?"
"I'm not sure I want to know your definition of fun either."
"How were the Narrows?" I mused.
"Don't go there right now, don't think I didn't know that little mission you sent me on was just to get me out of the house. I'm not entirely naive. I only completed it because I was curious. Now that curiosity is dead. I want no part in whatever you're planning, but I guess it's nice to see you not moping around for once."
I scoffed. "I don't mope."
She sipped her tea in silence, looking at me with her judgy little eye over the rim. She crossed her legs in a condescending manner, almost as if she were moonlighting as the mother figure this time. It was kinda cute, watching her try to play the manipulation game. She got up for a moment to go grab her book from the other room, another one gifted to her from this J.T. I honestly should look into this secret admirer of hers, but she didn't seem worried about it. You could never truly trust anyone in Gotham.
Elios gave me a mischievous look. I raised a brow at him.
"She needs to loosen up, don't you think?"
Normally I wouldn't approve, but this was harmless, right? I was right here, he didn't mean her any harm. Maggie really did need to stop playing mother hen and have some fun for once. He slipped a small amount of MDMA into her tea and stirred it with his finger, before offering it to me to lick clean. By the time Maggie came back, we were full-on making out on the couch.
"Really? I leave the room for two seconds. You both are worse than teenagers."
"What are you, my mother?"
She glared at me before taking another sip of her drink and cracking open her book. Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis. I gave her my best innocent smirk and continued to make out with Elios after flipping her off. She rolled her eyes and continued reading. Elios and I made a silent bet over how long it would take the drugs to kick in.
I watched as she became antsy in her seat, fighting with her book page every once and a while. This should be fun. She cleared her throat, excusing herself from the room.
Maggie's POV:
My entire body felt strange, I could practically feel every particle in the air touching my skin. My brain felt fuzzy, like how it did whenever I would get sick. I couldn't be disassociating now, not when Y/N was acting so reckless. Olive never told me what happens when I go away, just that he prefers it when I'm here. I didn't want to go away, not now, not ever.
My heart was pounding in my chest, and my skin felt clammy. The room felt like it was spinning, and I was with it. But everything felt upsideown. I splashed some water in my face, looked into the mirror and jumped back at what I saw. She didn't look like me, but of course, she was me. The girl before e looked tired, mentally at least.
I pushed the thought away, shaking my head as I left the bathroom, I couldn't let Y/N know I felt wrong, she'd see me as weaker than I already am. And with her new friend being here, it wasn't safe. So, I pretend everything was fine, despite the heavy pull on my brain, whipping very coherent thought I had from my frontal cortex. Maybe if I turned on some music, I could pretend t think clearly. I'm sure the two horn dogs on the couch wouldn't mind. Music had always been my escape, but only Oliver and Thea had heard me sing before.
youtube
I walked over to my speaker and turned on my playlist. I had to admit, the longer I looked at this stranger, the nicer he looked. I hummed the tune lightly as I made my way around the room, looking at random things like they were the most interesting thing in the world. I didn't even feel the four sets of eyes that were on me near the end of the song.
"You've got a lovely voice Kitten, you should sing us something." Elios complemented.
I desperately fought the blush creeping onto my cheeks. Why was I so easily flustered right now?
"He's right, I didn't know you could sing. Go on..." Y/N encouraged>
Really what did I have to lose? It's not exactly like this was some embracing screen that Y/N could use against me.
The next song on my playlist kicked up and I let my body flow to the music, letting my brain completely give way to this odd feeling.
youtube
"You like control, well I do too... take off my clothes and watch me move." I sang.
The clothes on my skin felt tighter, constricting. I hated the feeling.
"Help me with the zipper on my skirt, it's stuck. As you kneel, I'll be watching you fix me. This view of you, of the top of your head, makes me forgive you."
My brain wandered to Jim, back to that night. It all suddenly seemed clear in my head. Every memory flooding back.
"But your skin, did you notice your skin it cries a soft weep like mine."
I made my way back over to the couches, ignoring the eyes intently watching me. Soaking in my every move like I was the only thing in the room.
"How 'bout, how 'bout just a part of you..."
I was suddenly close to Elios, close enough to notice the detail now. I could see why Y/N Liked him. He was easy on the eyes, but clearly, he had to have a darkness about him that she would fall for.
"'Cause I want, I want, I want, I want... I want, I want, I want, I want, I want-" I trailed off.
I pulled him into a forceful kiss, which was unlike me. But it was nice, somehow exciting yet peaceful. Like I didn't have a single care in the world. He didn't pull away, instead choosing to bite deeply into my lower lip. I could feel the heat rise to the area as flesh and blood fell from the wound.
I licked at his lip, shoving my tongue down his throat, letting him taste my blood as I explored. Behind me, Y/N reached for the absinthe that had been sitting on the coffee table. Had they really been drinking that heavily earlier? But my thoughts were quickly brought back when Elios trailed a hand up my shirt, pulling a whimper out of me. God, I wasn't usually this needy.
Y/N sipped her beverage as she watched, a smirk permanently plastered on her face. What did they do to me? Those bastards, when my brain was clear I'd give her a piece of my mind. I threw my hand back, not breaking away from the kiss, as a grabbed the drink from her hand. I finally broke the friction, much to his dismay and gulped down the rest of her drink.
Fuck it, maybe I didn't want to remember tonight either. They always say if you can't beat them, join them. She let out a laugh, snatching the cup back from me and pouring more.
"Somebodies having fun, finally."
"Well excuse me for not relishing in your anguish Mon Ami. I'm not like you, remember?"
"Really, cause you all over Elios like I was the first time we met."
I looked back at the man in question and watched as he pulled something out of a bag in his pocket. He placed the contents of the bag on his tongue before pulling me in for another kiss, slipping whatever it was onto my own tongue. I fought to keep my brain stable, but it was a losing game. I knew I'd crash and burn, hard, soon.
I couldn't understand why Y/N insted on dragging me into all of her bullshit? Though I suppose it was my fault for caring even after the many warnings she gave me. She was going off the deep end, and I was sinking right with her. Where the hell was Victor when you needed him? Funny that a psychopath is the bolt level-headed one of us. Elios was dangerous, but every part of me craved that right now.
I tugged off my shirt, overwhelmed by the feeling of the fabric caressing my skin.
"Somebodies eager." He purred in my ear.
I rolled my eyes, pushing him down on the couch. The part of me that was still lucid was more desperate.
"What did you give me?" I slurred out.
"Nothing much, just something to help you relax sweetheart. Y/N favourite cocktail."
"Foolish of you to think she can handle that much Baby. I mean, she is just a baby after all, Isn't that right Maggie?" Y/N taunted.
"I can handle whatever this is, fuck you very much!"
"Whatever you say Sugar."
She lit a smoke, blowing it into my face.
"But if you're not gonna fuck him, I will." She finished.
I glared, pouting.
"What, still have that pipe dream of Mommy and Daddy getting back together? Not gonna happen Kiddo. Daddy bit the bullet, and he bit it hard. Something I have no doubt hell do over and over because he takes whatever I give him. Maybe you should learn a little something from Victor on that front, Doll."
She lifted me, almost too easily from my spot on the couch. Granted I didn't put up much of a fight, not that I could. I watched from my little corner of the world as they went at each other like starved animals. I knew she was just doing this to hurt Victor in some way, the only way she could truly do that was by hurting herself. The same way Jim was hurting me every time he ran right back into Lee's arms. That dreadful woman, I did not envy her one bit. Gotham would be her downfall, as it appears we shared the same fate. Doomed to love a man who was never truly available. Forced to watch as our lives crumble from the outside in, just pawns in the grand joke that was Gotham City.
AN: Not that I don't respect Maggie's right to be a whore, cause she's doing great at it. But I really have to stop traumatising her by making her sleep with certain people when she won't remember it.. why am I so mean to her? She doesn't deserve this. Also ouch Y/N being a bitch and using the nickname even though she knows about Maggie's other half. Brutal.
#maggie#magnolia blossom#elliot#euphoria#euphoria hbo#gotham oc#gotham#gotham imagine#victor zsasz#Y/N zsasz#gotham x reader#jim gordon#jim gordon x reader#dissociative alters
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#this time it's from my wip Kick The Bucket#a romcom/tragedy about a ghost with an unfulfilled bucket list and the person trying to help him complete it and move on#I haven't looked at this wip in like 4 years but I rediscovered the google doc today#and decided to revamp it for some fun character creation and bucket list shenanigans#and i decided just for the fun of it. to name the living one April and the ghost one November#for the YA of it all#made them on picrew but im in crisis bc I can't decide#whether November should be a jean jackets guy or a Hawaiian shirt guy#one thing is for sure though. he is a pastel pink converse guy#I've been wanting to write a story about a ghost who haunts a college campus and can't remember how they died#or rather. they can't remember whether it was on purpose#been in that kind of Vibe while crossing the street now and again so why not turn it into a romcom i guess#I suppose that would be the real reason he can't move on. the bucket list thing was always a little silly#a good set-up for a plot but without any real substance#while my campus ghost had the substance for being a ghost but no real through line to carry a story on#so I supposes combining them might actually make sense#hmmm#would also very much love to offload my weird relationship with crosswalks at night onto November#this is your problem now#welcome to existence buddy#this is making me remember the time I had to make a 36 Questions / bright sessions s4 esque decision#and instead of doing that I just dumped the problem onto Mark Bryant and wrote a fic about it#and then completely ignored the problem in my actual real life#thats mark's problem now <3#characters are so useful#I'll stop rambling now#the mark thing deserves its own post tbh
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twitchcon :: cc!multiple x reader
fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some mcyt headcanons if you were to attend twitchcon w them
cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade
cw: kinda lengthy for the minors (i think), not as much for the hags LMAO /hj
tommyinnit
this man is so excited to be at his first twitchcon & being able to hang out with all his best friends makes it a hundred times better
when he isn’t at a panel or doing meet & greets, he’s dragging you everywhere to see the whole convention center (clingyinnit)
he is just so at awe despite this not being his first convention to attend
you’d be surprised he gets tired pretty quickly & stops over to the partner lounge
you both rest for a bit against a wall in a pretty packed hallway despite it being an exclusive area to twitch partners
every time a famous streamer walks by he will yell it out and record it then vlog your reaction, even if they’re surrounded with bodyguards & trying to get to another place quickly
he’d zoom in his camera to their face at a horrible angle and be like
“oh my god it is THE ninja. ninja famous fortnite player, HELLO.”
but he gets completely ignored
then the camera pans out to you, still really zoomed in that the capture is blurry
“ninjainnit?”
“EH?”
tommy is so confused, forgetting the bit ninja did on his twitter where he renamed himself ‘ninjainnit’ for a split second
okay tommy isn’t that athletic but he will chase you and the rest of your group down a hallway if he had to
he’d probably find a toy gun from the artist alley/seller booths and shoot you and wilbur with it
but if tommy stumbles across any of the dream team, it’s about to be minecraft manhunt but irl
and he will def play his stream music while walking or smth when he’s bored (or trying to jump dream & sapnap)
** DO DO DO DO MANHUNT MUSIC **
oh my god,, now thinking about it he’s probably the one to open like random doors of empty rooms and steal stuff while you film him
like he will take a random empty glass, a bunch of pens, a freebie t-shirt, everything he sees he takes with him and you’re just panic
“tommy we’re literally not supposed to be here, and i’m stuck here filming you. it’s surely a felony in action”
“well, it’s their fault for leaving the doors open! plus this is great content. who’s the dirty crime boy now, HM?”
you’d tell wilbur about this and he’d scold tommy and threaten him with the same pen tommy stole
tommy probably would also drag you some weird event happening outside twitchcon along with tubbo and ranboo
“pokimane is giving out free pizza to everyone if we go to this one restaurant down the street!”
“we are literally gonna get bombarded. have you forgot you’re like three of twitch’s top streamers? i’d rather pay for all of our meals than try getting free pizza from pokimane against all her other fans”
“DEAL! let’s go to five guys then!”
you unfortunately end up paying for all 3 of their meals and picking on their food instead of buying your own
even with all of them making way more money than you, they still happen to be cheapskates
OR tommy will end up getting a burrito from a taco truck, immediately making a mess of himself, then proceed to complain how messy the food is to eat despite knowing what he was getting himself into before even ordering
“shit my clothes are all ruined now!”
“well that’s your fault you got a burrito, as if it’s your first time having one”
“i mean the food is good, i’m not complaining about that but i don’t think it’s that good that it’s worth costing my red and white shirt, im just saying”
tubbo
same with tommy, he is so excited
i don’t know why but i imagine him overpacking his suitcase and you making fun of him for it
anyway tubbo has his irl backpack on and streaming EVERYTHING
probably spends a lot of time at a bunch of different booths, checking out all the pointless gadgets he could buy for his stream
you’re the one to stop him from doing so
“TUBBO IT’S LITERALLY OVER TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, STOP. DONT GET IT.”
“WHY NOT?? IT WILL BE COOL FOR MY STREAM AND I WILL USE IT EVERYDAY”
“okay theoretically speaking, how the hell are you going to even bring it home? which—let me remind you—is across the country for you and not to mention the giant ocean separating america and the uk”
“free ship-pang!!!”
“i hate to break it to you tubbo but there is no way you can get free shipping on a FIVE FOOT PC. it’s nearly as tall as you! what are you even gonna do on it, hack the government???”
the arguments are all lighthearted but eventually you give in and let him splurge over a thousand dollars in different devices he claimed he “needed”
i could honestly see him visiting the beaches in san diego and going for a swim or even renting out a boat to use for a bit :D
also he’d bring benson along with him and taking a bunch of scenic photos with it in them
i have a feeling he’s the type to schedule a spontaneous meet & greet because he was bored & gets in trouble for causing a mob in a certain part of the convention
he’s like “oh god, i did not expect this many of the bois to show up AHAHAH oops”
tubbo would def pull a lilypichu and bring his melodica or ukulele and play themes while following random people/cosplayers
at the end of the day, you’d find his bag just stuffed with crap he either got for free or bought in the convention
“how did you get all that stuff? i was with you all day??? and it’s only the first day of the convention, hello?? it looks like you’ve been collecting as if twitchcon has went on for a week already!”
“HA i have my ways, do not underestimate my powers”
lani would probably tag along for the vacation honestly
like whenever someone comes up to her giving her gifts/asking for pics, you and tubbo would tease her about how famous she is
and i dunno but something about tubbo just gives me this amusement park energy and going to legoland and spending the whole day there since it’s near by and because he can
ranboo
he is like a beacon in a sea of people, that’s it .
i honestly just see him causing as much chaos as the other two
ranboo would probably like take someone’s camera whether if they’re streaming or if it’s for the vlog, hold it up high, and point the camera directly above someone’s face
it did not matter how tall you were and if you had platform shoes on, ranboo was a skyscraper next to you
“HAHAH this is how i see you from this height, this is funny”
then he shows you the vid of the recording of him getting like an aerial view of your face
like you see your nose and all your pores and just overall a bad angle to be captured in
“OH GOD RANBOO DELETE THAT, ITS HORRIFIC”
i dunno why but i feel like he’d jump scare every person that was cosplaying as his minecraft character from behind for some reason
“BOO!”
“ranboo i’m not even remotely dressed as your skin—”
“don’t worry i’m practicing it’s fineee”
“you’re like the height of 2 people combined, i think you will be fine as is. you even intimidated the security at the front”
i feel like if he had his own panel he’d like pull up some undertale song in the middle of it and scare all the people in the crowd
“lore but in real life”
probably would get some matching keepsake with you from artist alley/the booths!
i could imagine like a cute keychain or smth :D
i feel like he’s the type to like randomly volunteer as a participant for those mini events in a booth thinking it would be funny but regrets it the moment he’s on stage
after introductions the presenter is like “okay ranboo, you will be given a random meme prompt above your head you won’t be able to see until after and you will have to make a random face to compliment it!”
and you can just tell by his facial expression he’s just thinking
oh god what have i gotten myself into
what is this game? who came up with this idea?
you’d laugh at him the whole time, even after he’s off the stage and finished with that small fiasco
“that was horrible. never again.”
“AHAHAH IT LOOKED SO AWKWARD YOU DID GREAT”
“I CROSSED MY EYES AND PUFFED MY CHEEKS BECAUSE I COULDNT THINK OF ANY OTHER FACIAL EXPRESSION. THE PROMPT ENDING UP BEING ‘WHEN TWITTER CANCELS YOU FOR USING PLASTIC STRAWS.’ AND WHEN I SAW WHAT IT WAS—LITERALLY WHAT KIND OF GAME–”
“I GOT PICTURES AND EVERYTHING ITS PERFECT AHAHAHAH”
wilbur soot
honestly with wilbur it’s slightly more chill
he already experienced twitchcon before so he’s just glad to see his friends again after so long
insists that you explore the convention yourself rather than sticking with him the whole time but you do anyway!
wilbur would probably have like a mini concert and gets you front row seats with the rest of the group
but that doesn’t mean before it that you’re not helping him set up
“y/n please– my amp is so heavy, i can carry it”
“don’t worry! i’m strong” :D
and musically talented or not, he will probably bring you and the rest of his friends up to stage to just vibe and sing a bunch of random acoustic songs
it’s not like some big concert hall stage,, i imagine more like a casual thing w a slightly higher platform from the ground yk?
after spending a long day at the convention he’d also bring everyone across the city to la jolla or smth !
you’d all probably have dinner there and chill, watching the pretty sunset
“this place is really pretty but oh my god im gonna lose my breath hiking up this stupid hill, please slow down”
and wilbur is like ??? because he’s completely fine with his long legs and everything
“just walk faster”
“no, you walk slower”
AHAHAH and for context traversing through la jolla by walking around the town is a bit hard since it’s basically on a bunch of hills (walking up from the beach to a restaurant actually is actually sm work, trust me ive been there)
wilbur honestly doesn’t spend that much time in the actual convention center, he’s probably sightseeing a bit of san diego with you instead
but i could imagine him staying at the tabletop games area playing dnd or smth
“c’mon y/n, come join!”
“uhh i’m not sure, i’m not the best at roleplay and...”
“it’s fine don’t worry!”
he’d pull you in with him and end up enjoying yourself even if it was your first time
and if you’re of age, you’d be wilbur’s +1 at the twitch partner party and make sure mans doesn’t too drunk
if it’s not too late in the night, you two would chill at the beach after the party
it’s just a nice, calming moment after all the loud music mixed with hundreds of conversations at the party
also something about like taking polaroids pictures with wilbur just seems to go hand in hand for me
i’m not sure why but you will be taking lots of pics with wilbur for sure (not necessarily you both in the photo, but of sceneries as well while you’re together!)
philza
literally a dad on vacation with his children, it doesn’t matter how old you are
need sunscreen? surprisingly has it
want a snack? probably has a small granola bar somewhere in his bag
but same with wilbur, he’s more chill like this isn’t his first time at twitchcon
omg he’d def bring you to the artist alley and just buy a bunch of fanart and stuff tho
“oh wow look phil, someone made a giant poster of the dream smp and shit!”
“holy shit that’s so good what the fuck!”
and he’s like rushing to that artist’s stall to buy a poster or print
idk why but phil seems like the person to know where he’s going all over the convention center
he probably had a copy of the directory map but yk
you just have trouble reading it bc all the signs seem to be misleading to you
nothing really crazy screams out to me of what phil would do at twitchcon besides like go to a few events, spend a bunch of time w his friends, etc
HOWEVER i could see him wasting a lot of his time at the gaming area and testing new games that are currently on the works of being developed
like “woah y/n, this vr game is sick, you should try it out!”
ngl i feel like phil would plan a visit to disneyland for everyone, like he gets the tickets and everything but once you’re at the park it’s free reign, y’all go everywhere with not much of a plan
the minors would try to cheap out phil and pay less than the others even though everyone else fully paid phil back and everything LMAO
ok but if he’s feeling nice, phil will buy everyone cotton candy/pretzels :D
and if you’re not hungry, he’d at least get you a mickey balloon
HE WILL HAVE MATCHING MICKEY EARS WITH MUMZA YES .
ALSO STAYING FOR THE FIREWORKS THOUGH OMG
just in general, best idea phil had for taking everyone to disneyland :D
technoblade
surprisingly techno is really calm despite this being like one of his first conventions
but when he finally settles in and gets comfortable, he’s showing the same energy
if you’re playfully yelling, he will yell back
however there’s still those awkward moments that are unavoidable
idk why but something about him makes me think that if you feel tired and want to go back to your hotel room, he’d go with you just to make sure you get there safe
he probably also needs a break from being around everyone else for a moment too LMAO
i could also see him searching far and wide in the artist alley for fanart of himself AHAHAH
walking around with him in the convention consists of someone yelling “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD” every 5 minutes but you don’t really mind
something about him makes me think he’ll be forced into playing minecraft twitch rivals along with the rest of sbi or smth
and he’s like “oh god, i’m going to be on stage? and people will see my face while i play minecraft?”
“i’m sure it will be fun!”
“i mean i like being competitive and feeding my ego, but i’m not that desperate.. well”
do i imagine techno getting easily tired of being surrounded by a bunch of people and just going back to his hotel room with phil and watching some anime with him? yes
and will you watch even if you have no idea what’s going on? also yes
i feel like after a while of you guys hanging out in techno’s room, the rest of the gang will just slowly join you guys
like eventually everyone is there; you, techno, phil, wilbur, niki, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, etc
and techno is like “wha– where did you guys come from?” because his room is basically packed
and niki could be like “oh we can go if you want!”
then techno just insists that she’s fine “but who let the child get in?” clearly implying tommy’s presence
“OI!!”
eventually techno gives in with the company and someone gets a bunch of board games to play from the front desk
lots of yelling and laughing for sure
when it becomes late at night, techno is like half conscious, you’re on your phone, wilbur is staring out the window & enjoying the night view, tommy is passed out on the couch from tiredness, tubbo & ranboo is still wide awake quietly talking, and phil & niki are helping clean up the giant mess
eventually everyone brings themselves to go back to their own room except tommy who won’t budge
you give techno a look and he immediately understands what you were thinking
he rushes to the bathroom to fill up two cups with ice cold water and handed one to you
“on three?”
“okay.. one”
“two”
“three!”
then both of you pour the water on the poor child’s face
he jolts awake and saying a string of curses
“what the fuck techno? y/n too?”
“get out” is the only think techno says that before tommy rushes out with his stuff and you leave right after
a/n: i honestly can’t wait until conventions open up again though,, phil and ranboo were talking about vidcon earlier and omg.
also i kinda want to take in tommy requests but i’m not sure??? it would be both cc! and c! x gn!reader for sure tho. i love writing him to bits but who knows, maybe i’ll only stick to my ideas,, or not. send in a tommy x reader request, might do it, might not, but he’s my fav cc if you can’t tell so! :D (i dunno if i will keep it strictly platonic, but unrequited crushes and stuff are fun to write hehe,,)
edit: let’s hope i fixed all the grammar mistakes LMAO we love writing late at night :) /s /hj
#tommyinnit#tubbo#ranboo#wilbur soot#technoblade#philza#dream smp#sbi#dsmp#mcyt#dream smp imagines#dream smp x reader#dream smp x you#dream smp x y/n#dream smp headcannon#sbi imagine#sbi x reader#sbi headcanons#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#mcyt x y/n#mcyt headcanons
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a different lover is not a sin
or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did
Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3
Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words
CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole
1 - 1994
Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.
"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."
Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.
"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."
Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.
Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.
Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.
---
2 - 2000
Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.
Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.
The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.
For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.
He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.
But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.
Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.
Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME
“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.
“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.
The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”
He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.
“Hey man, wait.”
The guy stopped walking.
“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”
He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.
“What’s bisexual?”
The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.
“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.
Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.
The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.
Or maybe he was right.
But he couldn’t be.
Dean couldn’t be… that.
Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.
---
3 - 2004
By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.
The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.
But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.
Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.
And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.
Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.
So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.
It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.
Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.
He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.
He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.
That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.
But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.
Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.
He left Indianapolis the next day.
---
4 - 2008
Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.
Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.
“You what ?” he gawked.
Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”
“You went to one of these Pride things?”
“Yeah, dude.”
Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.
“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”
“She was in the what?”
“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”
“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.
“Green.”
“What?”
“Light’s green. Green means go.”
Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.
He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.
“You okay, Dean?”
“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”
Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.
---
5 - 2014
Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.
“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."
Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."
“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”
Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”
“Pride.”
Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.
“You good?”
“Yeah, what was that?”
“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”
“Why uh… Why? Why me?”
She knows.
“I dunno.”
She knows she knows she knows.
“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”
And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.
“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”
“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”
“Yeah.”
And she hung up.
Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.
But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.
John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.
Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.
It still got his heart split in two.
Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?
It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.
Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.
Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?
---
+1 - 2021
Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.
They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.
They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…
Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.
Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.
He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.
He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.
Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.
He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”
Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.
Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas’s now– to pack a small duffle.
Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.
“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”
Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.
“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”
Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.
Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.
They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.
“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.
Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”
It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.
“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.
“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.
“The parade? No, not really.”
And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."
He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.
And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.
"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."
The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.
Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.
They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.
He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.
When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.
Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.
---
The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.
They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.
They fit right in.
The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.
The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.
Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?
He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.
On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.
He’s proud to be here.
The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.
“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.
“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.
Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.
“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”
She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.
Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.
“What’s up?”
If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.
“Look around, Dean.”
“What for?”
“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”
So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.
And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.
There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.
He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.
He has it now too. He can be himself.
Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.
“Dean, I am so proud of you.”
And then he cries.
---
They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.
Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.
There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.
“What?”
“That’s the bisexual flag.”
So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”
He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.
“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”
Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.
He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.
“Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.
Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.
So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.
The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.
#userstarry#starrynightdeancas gift exchange#aaaahhh i hope you liked this beloved match!!!#gen.fics#spncreatorsdaily#creativecaviar#userjennmish#userdorksinlove#tuserari#plantdadcas#offbeattraxx#slipper007#thisisapaige#lyntracks#dean winchester#destiel#deancas#deanbenny#deancassie#saileen#dreamhunter#dean x lee#there's so many ships in this im sorry its ULTIMATELY destiel
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okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should
Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!
TW for parental figure disappointment
The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.
Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.
“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”
“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”
“I know, but it’s kind of important.”
“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”
“I left my skates by the front door.”
Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”
“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”
“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”
“I know,” Logan said quietly.
Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”
“I care.”
“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.
“I know.”
Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?
They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.
“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.
“I’m sorry.”
He received no response.
They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.
He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”
Starving. “Kinda.”
“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.
They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.
“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.
As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”
“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”
“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”
Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”
There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”
“Oui.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”
Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”
“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”
“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.
Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”
“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”
“Of course.”
For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”
“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“It’s so stupid.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”
Sirius hummed, but said nothing.
“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”
“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”
“Ah.”
“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”
Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Belittling yourself.”
“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”
“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”
Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”
“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”
“Did Dumo drive you back?”
“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”
“I still feel like shit.”
Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”
“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”
“He will.”
They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”
“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”
“Why?”
“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”
Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”
“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”
“You’re the best.”
“I try.”
“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”
“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”
“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”
“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.
“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”
Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”
“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”
Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”
He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”
“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”
Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”
Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”
“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”
“I care about you, too.”
“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.
“Drive safe, Cap.”
“I will.”
The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.
“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.
The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”
“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”
“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”
Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”
Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.
“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”
Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”
#logan tremblay#sirius black#pascal dumais#finn o'hara#james potter#sweater weather#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#hurt/ comfort#cap and logan bonding#dad dumo
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𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸
𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴
𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.
ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ
Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!
Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.
You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.
Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.
Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.
You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.
“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.
“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.
“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.
“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.
Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.
You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.
You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.
What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.
☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎
It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.
Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.
Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.
All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.
You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”
Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.
“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?
Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”
You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.
#chris evans#sebastian stan#mcu#marvel#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#mob!steve#dark!bucky#mob!steve x reader#dark!bucky x reader
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Breathe Again | KTH
~summary: everything in your world has changed. everything, that is, except the boy who still believes there are spirits in the forest.
~pairing: taehyung x reader
~word count: 16.6k
~my neighbour totoro au, artist!taehyung, fashion designer!reader, childhood friends to lovers, comfort, fluff, slight angst, slow burn, totoro just wants them to be together
~rating: pg13
~warnings: mentions of burnout, mentions of a toxic work environment, a skipped meal, a tiny bit of blood, being outside in bad weather, heights?
~a/n: hi everyone, long time no see! welcome to my first fic since my hiatus!! this is for the ghibli collab which is being run by @birbdae💞 this one is for anyone who likes ghibli films, wants some comforting boyfriend vibes from tae or just vaguely chaotic totoro content💜this one turned kinda long, but I hope I’ve captured the ghibli vibes well!
I would love to hear if you read this and what you think! come chat with me💖
Taking you over familiar roads, the bus bumped gently against uneven ground. But you didn’t so much as blink, cheek resting against the glass which rattled slightly in its pane.
You knew this place.
Something about returning down these roads stirred memories within you, though they tugged more at your body than your mind. The haze of smiles and childish laughter these streets made you recall felt alien to you.
But you knew that if you were to set your feet down in the earth here, they would be able to take you home even with your eyes closed. Your hands have memorised the shapes of the leaves in the forest and the wind would push your hair back like an old friend.
You knew this place, and it knew you.
That’s what you were afraid of.
It was as if a tape was being rewound: taking you whizzing back through the exact route you had ridden out of your hometown when you left so many years ago.
Who would remember you? More importantly, who would remember your goals, the way you had rushed away to the city at the first chance to pursue your goals as a fashion designer.
You hoped they wouldn’t ask. After all, you didn’t know the answers yourself.
Of course, there was the possibility that the town you were coming back to would have changed. There were always new buildings going up in the city, roads closed and the crowds still crawling around like ants. Always moving, never slowing.
But the moment you turned away from thanking the bus driver and settled your feet on the soil, you knew there was no question of this place being unrecognisable. Grass still tufted through at the edges of the road; there was the stream that had always run here, still bubbling merrily and bouncing the odd fleck of light through the grasses it nestled between.
Rumbling into life again behind you, the bus trundled on its way.
First stopping to take a deep breath, you turned after it, feet falling in the shallow furrows made by the tyre marks. As predicted, you gave barely a thought for the direction, your legs easily remembering their way down the short road to reach the market square.
As you moved past the first houses, you parted ways with the stream. It wasn’t long after that the road opened into the square and you finally saw another living being.
Though it wasn’t a big town by any stretch, there were always people around during the day. Luckily it wasn’t market day today, which you were thankful for because the whole town would have been out, and you may well have been caught up for hours by all the people wanting to talk to you.
As it was, three ladies cried out at you from a front doorstep where they were chatting. Hurriedly shooting them a smile, you waved, hoping that would deter them. In the end, you were only waylaid by a couple of questions – how long would you be staying? how’s the big city? – that you could brush off with noncommittal answers.
In that time, you had attracted the gazes of an older couple strolling hand in hand nearby. Gripping the strap of your backpack tighter, you bobbed your head in greeting and scurried past.
Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you picked up the pace. Shooting a quick message to let your aunt know you had arrived kept you occupied with an excuse to avoid a few more staring faces. Perhaps they would think you rude, antisocial, to be walking with your head down and staring at your device instead, but it was comforting in a way. A remnant of your city life, where everyone was wrapped up in technology.
Having braved the main square, you lowered your phone again. Forcing a steady exhale from your mouth, you pressed further through the mercifully empty streets leading away.
The squeak of a bicycle wheel was all the warning you received for the next person you would pass on your journey. Preparing a smile in a hurry, you found yourself staring across at a man you recognised coming around the corner.
Kim Taehyung hadn’t changed much, face lighting up in his trademark rectangular grin as he saw you. He had grown into his handsome features in the time you had been away, and you found your smile wasn’t entirely fake as he slowed on the other side of the street.
Simple white t shirt hanging from his frame, he was wheeling a bike beside him, dusty bags slung over the top. He fit right in with this place.
He was just opening his mouth when you gulped back your faltering smile, ducking your head again and continuing on your way.
With your feet carrying you slightly faster now, you garbled greetings and smalltalk to the other villagers you crossed paths with. The path sloped downhill as you approached the edge of the town, where houses fell away to make space for the rice fields and farmland. From your road, you could look across the flat terraces that stretched, glittering, to the horizon.
Approaching your own place at last, you had to admit you were glad to see Mei lean out of her window to greet you. The old woman had lived there as long as you could remember, and always had a kind word to say.
But though you returned her wave with genuine care, you didn’t stay to talk, instead pressing the keys into the disused lock of your front door. Reluctant from its neglect, it resisted, grating around slowly until finally caving, releasing the door with a groan.
The last time you had seen the inside of this house was many years ago now. Your aunt had raised you here, but had now moved in with her new partner; rather than selling, she had kept the place for you, ‘in case you ever want to come back or visit’.
Sliding the door aside with only a few snags, you stood in the doorway, unmoving.
For a brief moment, a familiar yet long-forgotten feeling had fallen over you. With a blink, the notion that a flurry of movement had greeted you from the shadows slipped away easily.
Dust bunnies, Mei always used to say.
Tugging vigorously at dust sheets that covered the windows, you let light stream into the room, at last allowing you to pull the door closed. Despite all that still required attention, you slumped against it.
Sniffing, you swiped a hand across your cheek. Surely it was just the dust irritating you.
While something inside you felt… different, relieved, to be back here, a larger part of you resisted that. This was only a temporary waystation. There was no use getting settled here again. This was no longer where you belonged…
If only you had found that in the city. That was supposed to be where you would thrive, forge your life amongst the unforgiving glare of neon billboards and buzzing traffic.
You resented the feeling of ease that crept over you now you were back. Resented the people that were content here, fitting fluidly with the meandering of village life. Like Kim Taehyung: he had grown up here with you, but unlike you he had remained right at home, never erring.
You had tried so hard, forever persistent that the world would bend to your will. That you were destined for greater things than this unremarkable town.
Yet now you even found yourself envious of those who stayed here.
They seemed happy.
A low buzz shot through your thoughts, drawing your attention to your illuminated phone screen.
With a dispassioned sigh, you pushed yourself to your feet. You ought to shift some dust from this place in time for your aunt to come for dinner.
Luckily, the house was empty, the few furnishings shoved away in cupboards. After fishing a broom from somewhere, you swept, and had just pulled the last cushion from the cupboard when you heard the familiar call of your name.
Hurrying forwards and plastering a smile on your face, you tugged the door open to help her; her arms were bursting with food. Still, you were surprised by the urge you got to hug her. After depositing all the ingredients in the small kitchen, you gladly returned her tight embrace.
“My darling,” she squeezed you tight, “it’s been so long.”
“I missed you, auntie,” you admitted.
Perhaps you had sounded a little too forlorn because she quickly drew you back to study your face.
“How have you been? Feeding yourself well enough?”
You let out a sound halfway between a giggle and a shriek as she grabbed at your cheek, a gesture that seemed far too familiar.
Brushing her off, you didn’t have time to dwell on the sensation her affections had stirred in you, as more voices drifted from the front room.
Of course, she had invited some friends.
By the time you had greeted each woman, dodged questions and laughed at your aunt and her girlfriend bickering from the kitchen, a steaming bowl was pressed into your hands and everyone gathered to eat. This was a scene you were so familiar with, a sight so common in your childhood, but now…
You shifted, eyes trained on your bowl as Mei told a story of your five-year-old self.
Why was everyone still the same? So nice to you, so comfortable with each other just like always? Your life, your career was seemingly spiralling off course and that guilt still sat heavy on your bones.
How could you retreat back here, accept all this? You should still be working. Not giving up. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that either.
The same feeling lingered even through the clinking of dishes as your guests chipped in to help clear away, and remained in the following silence and dark as you flattened out your futon, curling up in isolation.
You wouldn’t allow this to feel right.
Even as sleep finally ensnared you in its claws just to spit you out the next morning, you continued to tell yourself what you should want. You should be missing your job, you should be missing the city. And though your heart wasn’t in it, you wouldn’t allow yourself to think otherwise.
The sun was high in the sky the next day when you found yourself staring at the blank page of your sketchbook.
I still want to design. Right?
Okay, so, let’s make a design. Design something. Just one thing. Just one idea, so I know I can still do it. I want to know that this is still the right thing.
I can do it.
Your eyes ran down your watercolour palette, each colour stained with others and hollowed in the middle with use. The small pot of water you had prepared sat too, remaining clear as your pen hovered over the paper.
Some time later, it clattered onto the tabletop.
That blank page stared at you for the rest of the day. Your contest continued even as you slurped at the instant noodles you had made. Every time your thoughts strayed outside, they would be tethered right back again.
There was no point running from your struggle. You would go out as soon as you had managed something productive. For now, the packets of food you had brought in your bag from the city would tide you over.
But as certain as you were that you would achieve something, the next day stretched out in exactly the same way.
It was on the third day that a knock at your door broke through your otherwise deserted world inside this room.
Without a second thought to the depressing dinner you were halfway through, you stood up. Only for a moment you hesitated, before conceding that this wasn’t the city, and it was more usual to have visitors here.
Padding across the floor, you pushed the door aside.
“Y/N! Hi!”
You blinked in the beaming face of Kim Taehyung that greeted you.
“Taehyung!” you returned in genuine surprise, “um, come in…”
Stepping back as you remembered your manners, you cast a look around the room. Unfortunately you hadn’t yet disposed of the slowly growing pile of torn ramen packets on the table, but it was too late.
“Thank you, you don’t have to-“
Nonetheless, Taehyung stepped inside to let you close the door on the cloudy day outside. If he noticed the sad state of your abode, he made no comment.
“I-I just thought I’d come by and visit you,” he smiled hopefully, “I haven’t seen you out since you came back…”
Gulping in the face of his innocent curiosity, you glanced at the floor.
“I’m sorry, I just haven’t… had the chance.”
Your excuse was weak and you knew it. Either way, Taehyung was quick to brush aside your worry.
“It’s nothing to apologise for! I thought I had just missed you and- well, I wanted to come to see you anyway. It’s been a while.”
A soft chuckle passed your lips, which curled into a sad smile. With a nod, you looked up at him.
“Yeah. It has.”
Though his face was smiling as always, it had softened as he studied you.
“Do you want to go on a walk?” he offered, “it must have been hard, being away from the countryside.”
The thought of your abandoned ramen cooling on the table behind you dissipated in an instant.
The outside was a refreshing thought, and it was as if Taehyung had opened the door to the possibility. Once there was a time you would have headed out for no reason, just for fun. That was something you had left behind, but with the welcoming boy to encourage you, you were nodding eagerly before you could form a reply.
Although the village was no longer bathed in sun, cool air rushing to meet you instead, the breeze seemed to carry some weight away from your shoulders. The route Taehyung began to tread beside you was well ingrained in your feet, but your mind was still waking up to the familiar sights.
“I always loved the view from here,” you smiled, muttering almost to yourself.
Taehyung heard you, though. There was no noise for your voice to lose itself in, except the wind that took your words on a winding path through the air.
Slowing his steps, you eased beside him as well. You had barely left your road, but being so near to the edge of the village, the swathes of rippling fields were never far from view; now they stretched out like a carpet below the higher ground your village occupied.
“What’s it like, living in the city?” Taehyung recaptured your attention.
Startled, your eyes turned to him as he remained gazing across the lush greenery, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his loose trousers. His shirt, too, billowed slightly in the playful breeze as you strolled together.
It was those words which brought you crashing back to your senses. The city had been far from your mind, chased away the moment you were reminded of nature’s sprawling cloak across the land. It had been so easy to forget…
“Busy,” was all you offered in way of reply at first. A slight sigh was whipped away by the wind before you found the words to continue. “There’s always people doing things, just like here. Only… bigger. More. They don’t have time to stop and speak to you. It’s so much brighter too…
“I like the neon signs,” you admitted, “but with them, you can barely see the stars.”
While you spoke, Taehyung’s eyes drifted back to you, listening intently. After you stopped, he left silence to settle for a moment.
“It sounds different,” he replied.
You simply hummed an affirmative, but a large smile was sliding back onto his face.
“But I bet they love you!” he grinned, face lifting in such eager happiness that it made your heart ache. Wanting so badly to return his joy, you knew you could never fake happiness that genuine.
“Not really…” you scuffed your toes against the ground, suddenly particularly interested in the way the dirt cracked around your shoes.
As such, you missed the deepening furrow of Tae’s brows, but he stayed quiet, sensing your inhale as you prepared to elaborate.
“Maybe it’s because I had always dreamed of moving there, but nothing was as easy as I imagined,” you spoke quietly, “I was so stupid thinking everything would be simple once I got a place as an intern. The company took me on, but I haven’t got any further.”
A short glance back to Tae showed his brows set in a serious line, mulling your words seriously.
“I’m sure if you keep working hard, they’ll see you,” he smiled, “you always wanted to be a designer. I know you can be.”
For a moment, his words stunned all breath in your throat. Swallowing harshly, you tore your eyes from his, roughly shaking your head.
“It’s just not going right,” you lamented, “all I’ve done since I moved there is work, I take the overtime and travel for shows at weekends, shadow where I can… I feel like I can’t do anymore. And still, nothing. Not even a commission, let alone a promotion. I haven’t headed a project team once. It’s like…” panting softly from the speed your frustrated words spilled out, you paused for a moment, shoulders slumping. “It’s like everyone else knows something I don’t.”
“That’s why you came back?”
His low tone was still light and looking back to him brought you face to face with wide, earnest eyes. Of course, he had guessed accurately. You hadn’t quite intended to spill in so much detail what was troubling you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to resent it.
Confirming his assumption with a nod, you watched Taehyung cock his head to the side before returning his gaze back across the forest.
By now you were drawing closer to where the trees huddled together at the borders of the farmland. The track was a little less well-trodden here, your feet falling between scattered grasses that pushed upwards.
“I don’t think it’s you that’s the problem,” he twisted his body around to face you, still walking towards the forest.
All you could do was blink, slightly startled at his assertion. Thankfully, he continued, pulling his hands from his pockets and spreading them to indicate the surrounding trees which you were entering.
“You’re doing everything you can, and that should be more than enough. There’s no secret to learn… well, maybe…”
“Hey!” you elbowed him as he trailed off, “do you know a secret?”
Mirroring your grin, Taehyung sighed, shaking his head at the ground. You kept your eyes trained on him, as if he might really hold some clue that would solve everything for you. Then he raised his head, fluffy strands of hair falling across his smile-brightened eyes.
“Maybe patience,” he shrugged, “I’m sure you’d get somewhere eventually… but also- maybe you should try to value your time more. There isn’t just one path you can take, and you can always change.”
“I-I guess that’s true,” you stammered.
It was something that had crossed your mind, but you had always shoved the idea away the moment you considered it. You knew what you wanted to do, and you shouldn’t give up on it. Hearing another say it, out loud, was… strangely affirming. But your eyes still fled Taehyung’s gaze, skittering about the trees stretching their hands to the sky.
“Either way,” a gentle nudge at your side brought your begrudging gaze back to your friend, “it’s good to have you back for a bit. I’ve missed you. I’m sure your aunt has, too,” he quickly added.
Grateful for his offer of turning away from the previous conversation, you relaxed a little.
“I’ve missed it here too,” you admitted, “thanks for coming over, it’s good to be out.”
For some reason, as you continued ambling through the forest, you felt no guilt creeping in about time you should be spending working. Instead, you barely felt the minutes passing as you laughed with Taehyung about various scenes from your childhoods. If anything, the small amount of guilt tugging at you was guilt for losing touch.
Eventually, you found yourself reclining in the grass at his side.
“Do you remember when you told me there were spirits in this forest?” you laughed softly.
“Hey!” he grinned back, “they are real!”
Though you giggled along with him, you sensed some defiance in the glittering of his eyes, which made you tail off. Your mouth quirked up at the corner.
“You really still believe in them?”
You didn’t miss the way his eyes strayed from your own, glancing to the grass and across the leafy landscape. But still, he responded.
“I saw them,” he murmured, bringing a fond smile to your face.
“Maybe people out in the countryside really are crazy,” you joked, flopping back to lie on the floor.
“Maybe,” came the chuckled reply.
Taehyung’s shoulder brushed against your own as he joined you on the floor.
Warmth blooming in your chest, you continued to stare across the treetops as they were brushed with the glow of the encroaching sunlight. Something within you longed to capture this moment, grab the warm-tinted clouds streaming across the sky and bring them to earth to rest beside you.
And later, you would realise that was why you had turned to design.
You picked up your paintbrush and brought colour to the white sheet at last.
Too caught up in your seeming breakthrough, with a design almost finished on your page, you were easily busy enough to ignore the way Taehyung’s face crept into your mind. Trying to summon images of the breathtaking evening you had spent, the boy was inextricable from the memory.
The relief and liberation that had flooded you the moment you allowed yourself some respite had come from having him beside you.
Though you were a fashion designer, not a portrait artist, the flipside of the page was steadily filling with sketches of Taehyung. You hadn’t been able to capture him the exact way you wanted, his striking features escaping you, but you couldn’t hold back from trying at least.
But though you had made some progress on your creative block, you still clung to the shelter of your empty house. The hush of the village provided you with a peace of mind you hadn’t even noticed was missing while you were away.
Before you could dig yourself any more holes wondering about the fate of your career, however, exactly the person you had been hoping to see came back around.
Taehyung beamed widely from his perch on your doorstep. That wonderful smile never failed to produce a brighter grin on your own face too.
However, this time he didn’t step into your house when you made room for him. Disappointment sunk to your stomach, realising you had expected him to stay.
But his next words killed off any sadness before it could even take root within you.
“Put your shoes on,” he flashed a playful grin, “you’re coming to mine for dinner.”
“I am?” you snorted, though you were already reaching for your boots.
“Yep,” he smirked.
Folding his arms, he leaned against your doorframe while you hurriedly got ready.
“Unless you have plans?” he chuckled, “another extravagant microwave meal for one?”
Gaping, your head shot up to meet his twinkling gaze.
“You may be right,” you scoffed, finally closing the door behind you as you joined him on the street, “but that doesn’t make it nice. What would your grandma think of your manners?”
“And what would your aunt think of the way you’re eating?” he retorted.
Lips rising into a begrudging smile, you sort of fell against him in a playful nudge. The next moment, though, your eyes grew wider as he slung an arm around you, giving it a squeeze as his fingers nipped at your cheek.
“I’m joking,” he cooed, “I just want you to eat well.”
At least the sentiment was there. About an hour later you found yourself sat giggling in front of a bowl of charred remains that once were food.
“I tried,” Tae was pouting, poking around in his own bowl.
“You didn’t have to try something so fancy,” you hid more laughter behind your hand, “there’s more room for error.”
“But grandma told me exactly how to make it,” he frowned down at his dish as if it had wronged him, “I don’t know what I even did to mess it up!”
Unable to help it, a fond smile broke onto your face.
“Thank you, Taehyung.”
Your words seemed to startle him, as he immediately started spluttering about how you could thank him after he destroyed your dinner. It only served to pull more laughter from you.
“I appreciate it,” you assured him, “now how about we make something simple?”
His kitchen was stocked with fresh vegetables from the farmlands, making it easy for you to pick some and get to work. Closer to the rice fields than your house, Taehyung’s place bordered with the forest, every window giving generous views on the surrounding greenery.
“Done!”
Turning away from the trees outside the window, which you had somewhat lost yourself in, you found Taehyung stood proudly behind you. In his hands sat a bowl stacked with the vegetables he had chopped.
A look back at your own board showed you had made much less progress.
“Let me finish those,” he placed his bowl down and came to stand next to you. “I think you would be better off doing the cooking.”
Laughing, you agreed and let him take the knife from your fingers. Next, you began to fry your ingredients with the rice that hadn’t been a victim of Taehyung’s previous attempts.
Once he was done, Taehyung approached you, sliding the remaining vegetables into the pan. But even as they fell, sizzling, into the dish, he didn’t move away from you.
“Smells good,” he complimented.
Muttering a brief thank you, you kept your eyes on the food as you stirred it. You could almost pretend the heat in your cheeks was from the warmth of the stove and not the way he leaned closer as he smelled your cooking, such that his chest pressed up against your back, face hovering above your shoulder.
But before your resolve could wear thin enough for you to look around at him while he was in such painfully close proximity, a rumble interrupted your thoughts.
Taehyung instantly pulled away, apologies spilling from his lips. You, on the other hand, burst into laughter.
“Was that your stomach?” you cried.
“Maybe,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his middle.
Chuckling, you shut off the stove.
“Luckily, dinner is ready,” you grinned.
Taehyung eagerly dashed to grab plates, letting you pile them up with food.
Together, you brought your steaming meals to the front room where Tae pushed open the front door, inviting you to sit on the step.
“I guess it is kind of late,” you said after your first bite, “no wonder you were hungry.”
Proving your point, the boy beside you was already wolfing down his meal. Smiling to yourself, you dove back into your own food as you stared across the darkening valley, stars now painted in the mirror-smooth surfaces of the rice fields.
Sweet as always, Taehyung thrust a basket of the vegetables into your arms before you left – though, of course, he was walking back with you. Still, you were embarrassed to note the hint of resentment at his wonderful actions, as it meant you had one less excuse to see him again. In truth, you didn’t want to leave at all.
But you still thanked him profusely, and you meant it. His kindness warmed your heart, and guilt twisted inside you at the thought of taking his actions to mean anything further.
He probably felt sorry for you, lost as you were. Meanwhile he had found a place in the world, and he was happy here. Almost certainly he only wanted to do some good for an old friend.
But for tonight, you couldn’t help but indulge in the flutters Taehyung set off in your heart, a few more sketches joining the others before you fell into bed.
Since you arrived, you hadn’t been very productive. You knew this, but bringing yourself to care was becoming difficult. No, you were too busy enjoying finally getting some peace and time away from the job that had been tiring you out.
But even in your time off, it seemed too much to ask of them to let you rest.
“-so I need your assessment of the project before we can move forwards…”
Your boss’ voice crackled over the line as you held your phone passively at your ear. Gulping as she rambled on about the practicality of your colleague’s design – when she was the one who had given the project to him when you really wanted it – you stared blankly at your notebook. Only one page remained filled. The simple design you had been thrilled with a couple of days ago now crumbled in your estimation.
Tell her you can’t do it. This is your time off. At least ask to be paid for it-
“Of course. I can do that,” you replied automatically.
Instant alarm bells started ringing in your head. You had to stick up for yourself before too much was loaded onto you-
“Wonderful, I’m sending them over now. Thanks a lot,” your boss spoke, line cutting off before you could so much as open your mouth.
Huffing, you flopped back onto your bed, where you had been sleeping peacefully before your ringing phone rudely awoke you. But you didn’t rest there for more than a few seconds before you were rolling yourself off and staggering over to dig out the laptop you hadn’t touched since leaving the city.
Opening up your emails, you saw the most recent one from your boss, but unfortunately your inbox was also rammed with several others you hadn’t bothered to check. You supposed you could never have expected to be completely away from work.
Resolving to check them later, you clicked on the first of the files from your boss. Already, you groaned, seeing that the plans were more extensive than you had believed over the phone.
You couldn’t deny that you accepted this too easily.
But then again, you never wanted to be seen slacking. Maybe if you did this, it would finally be noticed and you would be in line for the next promotion…
That was what you told yourself the last time too. And the time before that, and before that.
At this point, even the thought of actually being promoted didn’t fill you with the excitement it should. It was all you had worked for, and yet all you could think of was how much more work it would mean.
Attempting to shove away your heavy pile of thoughts, you focussed back on the task at hand.
Wrangling your brain into action, however, proved difficult. You realised too late that it should have been lunchtime, hurriedly trying to make yourself something while it was already halfway through the evening, sky darkening beyond your window. But even though it was getting later and you had been working all day, you had got next to nothing done.
Even the pattering of rain on your roof which began early on did little to ease the stress creeping back into its familiar residence in your brain.
Your head was spinning as you sliced up a pepper, not able to focus on the simple movement of your hands. You knew you should be looking at your work, but even as your mind hovered around the matter, you were unable to think straight as everything proved a dead end.
A sharp pinch shook you from your haze.
Hands stilling, you looked down to find a sliver of red already growing of your fingertip. Cursing, you threw down your cooking, turning to the sink.
The blood was swept away with the stream of water from your tap, showing only a miniscule cut, but your finger shook anyway. Staring down at the small line, even though it was clean now, your breath hitched in the back of your throat.
The rain, relentless on your roof, was the only sound muffling the sobs which left you as you hunched over the basin.
Letting your hand drop, you clutched onto the edge of the surface. You felt like a child; your computer was filled with demands, your head occupied with work, but you just didn’t want to.
Why couldn’t they just leave you be?
Some instinct within you had set your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Abandoning your laptop where its screen still passively illuminated a square of your desk, you were slipping shoes on, practically throwing your door aside with your sudden desperation to reach the outdoors.
The rain which immediately hit your skin hardly occurred to you. All you could manage was to breathe deeply in the saturated air.
You had succeeded in rediscovering some of the inspiration that led you to your current path; it had always been the beauty of your hometown, the countryside with its vast fields and open skies, the peace and the fury of the elements.
And maybe you had forgotten it, but now you knew it again you wanted to seize it with both hands. The pull of work only made you resent it more.
You had to escape.
And so your feet were taking you down your road, slipping on the track which had already begun turning to mud under the onslaught from the heavens.
You had barely left the glow of the last house on your street before water was running in streams down your cheeks, mingling with the salty tears that had been falling before. Hiccupping, you wrapped your arms around yourself.
Though you sniffed, you didn’t bother to wipe at your face.
But already the ruthless pelting of raindrops began to batter away the frustration that had been stirred in you. Still breathing heavily, you pressed unflinchingly on, your mind only able to focus on stepping forward through the storm.
Despite your lack of destination, your pace was rapid and soon you were stumbling between trees as you reached the forest. Here, the hammer of rain was lighter, plucking at leaves harmlessly and filling the air with the hollow chorus.
The oppressive feeling from sitting caged by your computer was fading. But now you weren’t sure whether your shaking was from your outburst or from the cold. Only, you couldn’t exactly bring yourself to care.
It wasn’t until now that your pace slowed in the least. Finally you were away from the pressing weight that had begun to crush you, even if it still remained waiting for you at home.
Weaving between trunks, your speed waned at last, allowing your fingers to trace along the wisened and cracked bark of each one. Even when you needed to blink repeatedly to gain clear sight from unshed tears and raindrops collecting on your lashes – even when your frame shook from head to toe, hair plastered against your skin – you finally felt free.
Having nature roar around you cast the demands of work, something that once loomed over you, far out of your sight.
Feet still tripping forwards, all it took was a toe catching on a root before your knees were meeting the earth.
Down here, the raindrops jostled the smaller plants that coated the forest floor. Looking up, you tried to wipe your hands, though it was fruitless against your sodden trousers.
But you paused in your motion as you caught sight of something.
Ahead of you, some tree roots twisted upwards, sculpted into a small arch. Although beyond that, you could see little, you rose slowly and stepped closer to it.
A few leftover tears leaked from your eyes, but they were indetectable as they slipped among the rainwater. Taking no notice, your eyes remained ahead as you reached the strange opening.
Ducking, you padded inside, not hurrying at all. It inspired a stiller pace for some reason.
The first thing you were aware of was the lack of rain falling on your back. Instead, the air was perfectly calm, only the distant pattering of water on leaves a reminder of the storm you had previously been in.
A few more steps and you found yourself in the centre of what appeared to be a large tree. Bark walls encircled the generous space, though it was obscured by the abundant greenery coating them decadently.
Tiredness was rapidly seeping into your bones now, and all you could think of the moss was how soft it looked, so tempting to your drooping eyes.
Exhaustion masked any shock you would otherwise have felt, then, when your eyes fell on a larger shape lying near the far wall. But this was not part of the tree, nor its foliage. Drawing nearer, you found it appeared to be furry. Enormous ears lay flat on the leafy ground where its head lay. Its round belly rose taller than you did from the ground, even though it was horizontal.
Staring through your bleary eyes, you merely chuckled at the unusual sight.
The creature inflated with each deep breath. It was sleeping.
You were sure you must be too, given what a funny dream you were having right now. But you were still so tired.
Without further thought, you let yourself tumble to the ground so you could rest, propped up against the forest creature. Indeed it was as soft as you had imagined looking at it.
Everything was peaceful as sleep embraced you at last.
Taehyung jerked awake, the whole house seemingly clamouring in his ears.
Eyes wide, he threw off his covers, though he wasn’t sure what he expected to do. The wind was hurtling through the air outside, hitting his house like a freight train. Windows shaking in their panes, bullets of rain still spattered against the glass.
Pulling his blanket with him, Taehyung retreated towards the main room. Although he stayed back from the windows, he still looked out, watching the vague shapes of dark trees as they attempted to uproot themselves in the blustering air.
He couldn’t deny being a little unnerved by the sudden ferocity of the weather. With a calming breath, however, he reminded himself of the true form of the wind. The image of the grinning cat brought a smile stretching across his own lips as well. It had been years since he had seen it, or the spirit Totoro and their friends.
But even if he was a child then, he clutched onto those memories, trying to keep them vivid as possible.
He was about to settle down on the sofa to wait out the noise when a different shape made itself known in the window.
Doing a double take hard enough to give him whiplash, Taehyung managed to keep himself from staggering backwards in shock. Blinking determinedly, he kept his eyes fixed on the familiar form as it drew closer into the light from his porch.
Although he knew they were real, he still found himself struggling to comprehend it.
This wasn’t another dream, another memory or image on his canvas. Pushed against all the walls in his study, and his bedroom too when they overflowed the space, images of the forest spirit were strewn about his living quarters. He could never forget it but…
Why would it come back?
A moment elapsed, Totoro’s huge frame blocking out much of the view behind them as they stared blankly down at Taehyung the way they always did. The pandemonium of the wind died away.
And then Tae’s senses kicked back in, and he was sprinting to the door, hurrying into the night because there was something else.
Totoro was carrying something-
No.
Someone.
Breathless, he stood on the step, taking in the figure cradled in Totoro’s arms. It was you.
He remained still, so Totoro moved forwards, towering above him. But Taehyung could never be intimidated, knowing this gentle giant well enough. Instead, his eyes remained on you as Totoro lowered you towards him.
You were clearly asleep, eyes shut and chest rising and falling evenly. But it was how on earth you came to be so, in Totoro’s arms, and now in front Tae’s house, that had his brow furrowing deeply.
Though water no longer sat on your skin, the dampness of your hair and clothes remained. You must be freezing.
However, as Tae hurried forward a couple more steps to reach out for you, a warmth engulfed him. Recognising the forest spirit’s familiar magic, a hint of a smile returned to his face.
Though Totoro now relinquished their grip, the magic remained cocooning you, making Taehyung able to hold you in his arms as you had been rendered weightless.
Straightening to their full colossal height, Totoro backed away. Still feeling that comforting magic wrap around the two of you, Taehyung smiled as he bowed, as deeply as he could with you in his arms. Totoro gave a little bob of their own before turning away.
For a short moment, Taehyung watched the spirit amble away. But you were the priority. Unsure how long the magic would last, he backed into the door to push it open and get you both inside. Looking around in mild panic, he settled on the first place he thought of and moved through to the bedroom.
Setting you down on the futon, he pushed your wet hair away from your forehead with his palm.
Next, he hovered for a moment.
Eventually he stood back, swallowing nervously as he watched you. It was still the middle of the night, and raindrops were splattering the window again, though less harsh than before.
Of course, his concern was still unsatisfied. If Totoro had found you, that could only mean you had been in the forest. But… why? At this time of night, you should be safely tucked away inside.
Well, at least you were now.
Sighing, he turned away to retrieve the blanket he had dragged to the living room. Collecting a few more cushions for good measure, he placed them down on the closer edge of the futon. It was big enough for him to sleep here too, while still leaving some distance between you.
After depositing his bedding, Tae made one more trip to the cupboard, bringing out a duvet. Though thick, it was very light. He liked to think of it as his ‘cloud duvet’.
Seating himself, he leaned across to you to cover you with his favourite duvet, but stopped short.
The hair lying on his pillows was already drying. So too were your pyjamas.
Sighing, he shook his head lightly and continued to throw the covers across your sleeping form.
He would get his answers in the morning. Settling down himself, Taehyung turned onto his side so his back faced you. For now you were okay, Totoro had made sure of that.
But aside from what had happened to you, one thing plagued his mind the most even as he closed his eyes.
Why had Totoro brought you to him?
Beams of light hung lazily in the air, only warded off by the thin fabric of Taehyung’s curtains. Blinking in the hazy morning, the usual hushed whisper of the forest greeted him, no trace of the furore of last night.
Except for the weight on the bed beside him.
Rubbing one hand across his face, he looked down at you. You remained nestled against the pillows, hair fanning out as the light cast it into rich colour. When his arm fell, it was perilously close to you, but he didn’t move it away.
Taehyung knew there was breakfast to be made and explanations to be had once he left the comfort of the bed.
Still, he lay unmoving, content to simply let his gaze roam your resting features. Warm light glowing against your skin showed it invitingly soft. His dark eyes traced your eyelashes where they rested, the gentle slope of your lips…
His breath hitched, a slight gasp lost in the fabric of his pillow.
At the first inclination of your lashes shifting, bringing you closer to wakefulness, he retreated, sliding out from his blanket and away to the kitchen. A puff of air left his lips as he willed his feet to fall noiselessly, leaving you to slumber.
He could easily blame the moment on his hazy awakening from sleep. He could pretend he only stayed next to you for want of staying warm in bed for a while longer.
Except he knew it would never be the truth.
You were truly breathtaking to him, painted perfectly in the dreamy morning light. All he could do was steer his thoughts away and turn them to preparing some breakfast.
And that was what roused you: the vague scent of steaming rice in the air and the odd clang of kitchenware from the other room. Rolling over as your eyelids cracked apart, you registered the indulgently soft duvet you were under, the scent of rain on the pillow.
It was already light, so you eased yourself to sit, stretching out your back with a quiet groan.
Vaguely, you remembered the sound of raindrops in the air, earth biting at your knees and a giant tree. It had certainly been a strange dream, you thought as you opened your eyes.
And paused, blinking.
This wasn’t your room. Hell, it wasn’t even your house.
From among the fluffy mountains of bedding, you slowly took in the place. Somehow, you weren’t exactly panicked by the position you found yourself, oddly comforted by the domestic sounds of cooking. You could guess where you were, and became more certain when your eyes fell on a row of assorted paintings propped against the wall.
When Taehyung poked his head into the bedroom, he found you awake and sat up. You had moved to the side of the bed, and were sitting cross legged as a hand delicately skimmed the surface of the nearest painting.
For a moment, he didn’t announce himself. Breathing deeply, his eyes rested fondly on the back of your head, ignoring the painting. He could see the artwork anytime, and he knew it well.
A vibrant green landscape of the forest, he had put Totoro and the other spirits dotted about the trees. Some were barely there, signifying how they protected the woods even though almost no one believed in them at all.
You must have sensed him, however, for you were snatching your hand back from the image and whirling around to face him.
“You alright there?” he smirked gently at your surprise.
“Yeah…” you murmured.
Noticing you chewing your lip, looking between him and the painting, Taehyung’s small smile faded a little. The confused tone you spoke with placed a light frown in its place.
“Yeah?” his low voice echoed.
Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he drew closer, hands dug into his pockets.
“That… that thing, in your drawing,” you frowned, staring right at it. “I dreamt about it.”
“Ah,” understanding dawned on Taehyung and he sat down beside you. Neither of you complained at the closeness as his leg pressed flush to your own. “That’s the forest spirit I told you about. Well, all of them are. But that’s Totoro.”
His tone had been anything but ridiculing, but still you looked around to find his expression genuine, eyes slightly creased at the corners in a vague smile.
“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed.
“You didn’t dream about them,” he leaned closer for emphasis, shifting to face you better, “it was real. Do you remember coming here?”
For a moment, you frowned, eyes escaping his as they seemed to look far away while you tried to recall. You came up empty.
“No…”
“That’s because Totoro brought you to me,” Taehyung went on, patient as before, “last night, they brought you in from the storm.”
He paused for a moment, wetting his lips as he gauged your reaction before carrying on:
“Do you remember why you were out? Did you fall asleep in the forest?”
Again, that look took over your face. Your gaze fell to your hands as they played with the hem of the duvet, untangling the mass of memories from the night before.
“I think… I must have done…” you frowned, then suddenly started. “Oh crap! I remember why I left! My boss is gonna kill me-“
Panicked, Taehyung placed his hands on your knees as you carried on rambling, starting to push the blankets away in your sudden rush.
“Hey, hey, Y/N slow down, what’s going on?”
“I-I got a call from work,” you hastily explained, “they need me to approve a set of designs and I said it was fine even though-“
“I thought you took the time off work?”
“I did, I did but I said yes anyway but then I just felt so… so- argh! I was so stressed all over again and I just wanted to get out…” the clarity you lacked the night before made you cringe as you pictured yourself walking down the muddy track in just pyjamas, heading into the trees in the middle of the night. You chuckled drily, “maybe not my wisest idea.”
“No,” Taehyung had to agree, inclining his head, “but you’re here right now. Work doesn’t need you this instant.”
Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you weren’t quite sure if he spoke the truth. Either way, you decided you didn’t much care when the boy broke into a shy grin and offered a hopeful ‘stay for breakfast?’.
He had managed to cook without mishap this time, resulting in a self-satisfied grin which you could easily tell translated into an I-told-you-so.
Happily full after his meal, Taehyung told you that he was going to do some painting, but that you were welcome to stay. From someone else, you might not be sure if they meant it or were just saying it out of politeness, but Taehyung had already offered you a set of clothes and a hot drink.
You certainly didn’t want to go yet, and you dared to hope he wanted you to stay as well.
So you accepted his offer and settled on the sofa with a steaming mug of tea and a book you had plucked at random from the shelves. Meanwhile, Taehyung turned on an old fashioned radio, which crackled softly into life in the corner before filling the atmosphere with calm music.
You knew for a fact Tae had a study in his house, but he brought his materials out into the main room anyway. Neither of you needed to say much as he set to work and you sipped your tea, going about your tasks in the mutual comfort of shared space.
He was facing the window as he worked, allowing you a view of his progress.
In the end, you became far too distracted to make it far through the book at all, too busy watching colour fill up the blank spaces. The work had already been started, with just a wash of colour occupying the canvas.
Now, you got to watch as from the blur of colours and shapes came the form of a forest. But this one was not bathed in the glory of day, the colours dark and muted instead.
Smooth brushstrokes left in their wake a body of water, glittering stars scattered within it. The limited palette of the night-time scene was fascinating to you. At last, Tae’s brush was picking out the form of the spirit again, peering from behind the trees. Your mouth curved up into a smile.
As Taehyung stood back, brush clamped in his mouth as he assessed his work so far, you scrambled to flip over a chunk of pages in your book. Burying your face in it, your cheeks burned as you realised you had been staring this whole time.
“What do you think?”
Making an effort to look as surprised as possible, you turned back to find Tae beaming at you.
“I think it’s wonderful,” you assured him, “the colours, the water… everything.”
His eyes lit up, smile only growing wider.
“Thank you! You really think so?”
At your indulgent nod, he turned back with renewed enthusiasm to complete the side of the forest which had yet to emerge from the melange of colour.
“Shall I get us lunch?” you offered not long after, noticing that you had now been there for a few hours.
Though Tae was engrossed in his painting, nose almost pressed to the canvas as he detailed some leaves in the moonlight, he graced you with an appreciative smile and a nod.
Slipping away to the kitchen, you soon reacquainted yourself with where everything lived and got to work. It wasn’t long before your limited cooking skills had done their job. A brief call to Taehyung had him emerging in the doorway with a smile on his face, taking the bowl gratefully.
Once again you settled happily on the front step, taking in the tranquil forest. It had calmed to a mere breeze since the night before, the leaves rustling, bright green in the midday sun.
“I can see why you like it here,” you commented between mouthfuls, “it must be a great place to work.”
Taehyung hummed around his mouth of food, but soon swallowed and replied, head tilted as his eyes scanned the forest.
“It inspires me.”
“So does Totoro,” you smiled. However, it couldn’t be denied that you were digging for more information after your strange encounter.
An understanding smile curved Tae’s lips and he set his chopsticks down briefly.
“You’re right,” he nodded, “for me, they’re tied together with the forest. I haven’t seen them since I was younger, but this place keeps them alive in my imagination, I suppose.”
“Wow,” you breathed, “no wonder your work is so good, hmm? You really love this place.”
As you dug back into your food, Taehyung turned his smiling eyes to you. Though you didn’t meet his gaze, he held his breath. Chewing his lip, he wondered why he couldn’t shake that feeling that had overcome him that morning.
Eventually, he forced himself back to his food, shuffling an inch or so away from you for good measure.
“I think it’s important to have a good place,” he stated, still staring at his dish when you looked around, “a place that works for you, when you need to be creative. I’m sure you can understand that.”
“Yeah,” you nodded vaguely.
But though you never disagreed, you weren’t sure you did understand. And it struck you that perhaps you should. Previously, you had only cared about what your job title could be. Never had you focussed on where you were, convinced you could continue to force out designs the way you always had…
But right now, you thought you might share Tae’s view, the motion of the leaves and the gentle sun caressing them stirring up your long lost desire to create.
And the presence of a warm figure beside you, full of support, had you wishing perhaps a little too much that you could stay.
You couldn’t delude yourself for much longer, unfortunately. Inside, Taehyung was happy to leave your dishes on the side and his brushes out as he offered to walk you home.
However, when he proposed taking you ‘the scenic way’, you dared entertain the thought that perhaps he might like having you around, too.
Though you hadn’t been here for some time and thus your sense of direction was shaky at best, you could tell that Taehyung was leading you around to the other side of town, albeit through the forest. Neither of you were in any hurry to get there, instead enjoying the dappled shade of the woodland path, reams of laughter drifting through the tree trunks as you joked together.
A subtle ache had begun in your cheeks from the constant smiling. But as Tae broke from the path, insisting on building an ‘installation art piece’, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.
Instead, you eagerly joined Taehyung as he ran giggling through the trees, scouring the floor for twigs and stones. If anyone else had seen you, it would certainly appear childish. Especially when Taehyung encouraged you to give him a leg up so he could reach a particularly beautiful fallen leaf that was lodged in the crook of a tree branch.
It was when he leapt down again with a subtle huff that you both burst into laughter again. Through the slits your eyes became as you creased with mirth, you caught a glimpse of a broad, boxy smile that robbed you of breath in an instant.
In front of you, Taehyung was chuckling, that beautiful smile still stretching at his lips. And once again, the urge to capture this moment swelled in you. You couldn’t take your eyes from him, simply trying to commit the image to memory with the unattainable hope that it would never fade away.
As he wiped one last tear, you hurriedly turned away, cursing the intense speed your heart had reached.
“What’s your plan, Van Gogh?” you joked, hoping he couldn’t see your sudden nerves.
“Not sure,” he replied happily. Fingers catching your wrist, he tugged you further on. Striding away towards the path ahead of you, he would never see the heat blooming in your face at the contact.
Flustered, you hurried after him, only to run into his back as he stopped without warning.
“Tae? Is-?”
Poking your head from your spot behind his shoulder, you too rapidly quieted.
Though it was not long since you last saw Totoro, the memory was a haze of rain and tears. Now, though, you gulped at the sight. The spirit was waddling along the pathway, each step somehow regal with its commanding size.
With wide eyes you turned to Taehyung. His side profile showed an awed smile, a shallow breath escaping him.
When the creature turned around, you stiffened. But beside you, Taehyung simply stepped forwards, leaving you staring between him and Totoro. Bowing briefly, Tae moved even closer while you hurried to observe the same manners.
Unaffected, Totoro simply turned, continuing their ambling journey through the woods.
Frown taking over your face and unsure what to do, you looked to Tae at your side. However, his expression had split into a joyful grin that obscured his eyes within creases, and before you could even open your mouth, he was dashing to follow the spirit.
Taken by surprise, you could do nothing but follow, tripping through the undergrowth until you spilled back out onto the path.
Laughter was bubbling from your lips before you could control it. Taehyung’s giggled soon mingled with yours in the air.
On reaching the spirit’s side, you slowed somewhat. Totoro accepted your presence with barely a look your way as they kept plodding onwards. What were small steps for the creature, however, took you at a surprising pace that had a sweat breaking from your forehead after a while.
“Tada!”
A flourish of Taehyung’s arms accompanied the first breaking of the companionable silence you had journeyed in.
Following where he gestured, your eyes lit up at the sight of glittering water.
“This was where we were going?”
“Yes! Do you remember it?”
A bounce had already entered Tae’s step, and he spun to talk to you while skipping backwards.
“Of course I do!” you nodded.
Just outside this village, the stream grew broader, creating a wide, flat brook. Countless afternoons of your childhood had been spent here, hopping over the stepping stones that lay above the water’s surface, or splashing in the shallow depths at the edges.
Despite the fuzzy heat of the evening, you found a little extra energy to race after Taehyung to the bank.
Within moments, he was kicking his shoes off and hopping into the glistening water. It only just came up to his ankles, close to the side where blades of grass drooped over, their tips disturbing the surface.
Sitting down for a breather, you also slipped off your shoes and dipped your feet in. Soothingly cool, the water brought relief against the heat you had worked up on the walk.
However, you never got much chance to rest as Taehyung stuck a hand directly under your nose. Scoffing, you took it anyway. In some small retribution, you aimed a kick in his direction once he had dragged you up, sending droplets of water showering over his legs.
Of course, you were instantly shrieking as he sent a playful, but much more powerful, wave of water back your way.
Though you were still aware of the large form of Totoro standing nearby, you were inexplicably more comfortable with their presence now. In fact, they faded to the back of your mind as you let yourself become preoccupied with the impromptu water fight that had your breathless laughs carrying over the rippling stream.
Eventually, you collapsed back onto the grassy bank, head thrown back as you breathed, heavy and exhilarated. For a moment, you simply let a gentle breeze soothe your skin.
When you looked back up, Taehyung snapped his eyes away from you so fast you were hardly sure you had caught them in the first place. Just as he turned away, a shadow fell over you.
Tipping your head back, you saw Totoro looking back down at you.
Before you could speak, let alone turn to face them, a bundle of sticks had fallen at your side, a couple rolling right up to your fingers where they rested. Picking the rough objects up, you looked back to the spirit quizzically. They were the sticks Taehyung had collected earlier, eventually carried here with him and left on the ground.
Then Totoro moved away, downstream a little.
Approaching you, Taehyung bent down to retrieve a few for himself.
“I think they want to play,” he smiled.
Totoro was watching you, almost expectantly. A smile quirked over your lips.
“I know this game!”
Side by side, you and Taehyung padded upstream a few paces, selecting a stick each.
“Three! Two! One!” he counted loudly, although you swore he dropped his stick a little before the last was called.
“Hey!” you shoved him playfully, but he was already taking off jogging towards Totoro.
You had lost sight of the slim shapes moving through the water, so you walked after him, groaning as Totoro held up the gnarled stick Taehyung had chosen.
“That’s not fair!” you tried to sound indignant, even going so far as to fold your arms, but laughter betrayed you.
Several rematches later, the sun was beginning to dip in earnest, and you had to admit it was time to get home. You were still closer to Tae’s house than yours, given the roundabout route you had taken.
As the light painted the sky darker, a few wisps of grey swirling below amber, the laughter died down at the prospect of going back home. Either way, there wasn’t much you could use as an excuse to stay here longer, so you slipped your shoes back on and began making your way over the stepping stones.
Taehyung went first, more steady on his feet while you slipped, taking a moment to get your footing on each one.
Totoro, on the other hand, simply watched you go.
Once, you turned back to give them a shy wave, but they didn’t move. Despite the muteness of the spirit, you thought it looked a little affronted at your leaving.
I’ll come back you promised silently with a smile.
Staring at the wonderful creature, you understood the fond firmness of belief Tae had described feeling about the forest spirits.
But with your eyes averted, your next step was not calculated. Suddenly there was no rock beneath your foot, leg slipping straight down the side as you whipped your attention to the front too late.
“Woah!”
A gasp left you as Taehyung’s exclamation faded from the air, his hands steadfast around your waist. Gulping at the sudden contact, you dared to look up. Dark eyes bore right back into your own and they weren’t breaking away.
“You okay?”
When the words left his lips, you felt them as breath drifting across your own more than you heard them.
You tried to nod, afraid that your noses would touch, close as you were. Somehow, though, you couldn’t look away. The hypnotising softness within his irises had you unsteady all over again as you placed your foot carefully back on stone.
Still, his hands stayed in place. And you didn’t want them to move away.
Tentatively, you breathed in, unable to help your gaze dipping to Taehyung’s temptingly plump lips.
He can’t have missed it. But you realised too late, returning your gaze to the safer, yet still perilous, territory of his eyes. Only to find him slightly further away, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his eyebrows raised slightly.
Snapping your mouth closed, you stiffened as horror set in. Was he uncomfortable? Had you revealed yourself?
But still he didn’t back away-
A yelp punctuated the air, startled from your own lungs with the impact of your body against Tae’s chest. In a split second, you were landing against something firm with a large splash in the relative quiet of the evening.
Gasping as cold water covered your back, you jerked only to find a strong arm circling you in its grip. Below you, a low rumble of laughter vibrated through your body.
Eyes widening, you realised you were lying pressed flush against Taehyung.
As the grip around you loosened, taking some warmth with it, you looked into Tae’s eyes which were once again creasing with mirth. He struggled to sit it the shallow stream, eventually ending up with you straddled on his lap as his arm remained looped casually around you. Despite the water, icier now in the deepening evening, heat was flaming in your cheeks.
Eager to twist around, you laid eyes on what had caused your unfortunate impact. Totoro stood in the water, unmoving as ever although they were quite clearly the only culprit in sight.
“What-?” you spluttered.
Still laughing, Taehyung helped ease you off him, keeping your hand clasped in his own as you both clambered to your feet. Water dripped from your hair, your legs and shoes sending miniature downfalls over the stepping stones as you returned to them.
“Have we angered the spirit?” you stage whispered to Taehyung, who laughed loudly.
“Sorry Totoro, we have to go home,” Tae sent a bow towards the creature. They blinked back.
Giggling slightly, you took a tentative step onto the next boulder. No sooner had you moved than the wind suddenly picked up around you, the waves in the brook growing more prominent as chill air ensnared your damp skin.
Taehyung cursed under his breath.
“It’s freezing,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.
Subconsciously, you huddled closer to him as he looked around – first at the path ahead and over the stream, then back towards the forest. Both of you seemed to gravitate to the latter, where leaves rioted in the air above the treetops.
As you stood in the wind, Taehyung’s arm had lifted to absently hold your waist. You felt him tug lightly.
“Maybe we should go back to mine. It’s still too far to your place, we might both freeze.”
“Are you sure?” you breathed, though you wanted to agree there and then, run back to his warm bed and not move for several hours. The way your voice came shakily with the shivers that began only confirmed Tae’s plan, and he was already setting off towards the riverbank.
“Very sure. Let’s get inside.”
Not needing to be told twice, you followed hastily, only connected to Tae by your fingertips that clutched each other as he led the way.
A particularly violent gust had your shoulders hunching. You were nearly at the side of the stream, and so you kept your focus for a moment longer on the rocks in front of you, before at last your feet met the grassy floor.
But on looking up, the sight that greeted you on the bank had your mouth hanging open.
What looked like a bus was standing in front of you. Or what would have looked like a bus, if not for the fact that it was smiling.
But after the day you had had, you made no protest as Tae told you it was okay to get in, merely accepting your fate with an incredulous sigh.
Tae’s hand on the small of your back as you stepped inside didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you let it slide. It was nice to be out of the cold, so you busied yourself with getting cosy on the seats that ran down the sides of the interior.
A jolt announced your departure. Looking around, you found Totoro hadn’t joined you, but watched you leave from the bank instead.
Turning back to the scene in front of you, you were surprised to note that no wind touched your frozen skin any more, despite the fact the windows on this bus seemed to be… well, non-existent. Beside you, Tae was leaning out slightly with a giddy grin lighting up his face, hand splayed in the air.
With a smile creeping onto your own face, you resigned yourself to the unexpected journey. Folding your arms against the side, you too stared out across the sky.
The treetops were far beneath you now, your whole village visible though it looked toy-sized from here. Wisps of clouds flew close overhead while your vantage point showed the glaring sun peeking above the horizon, illuminating your face with the last of the day’s warmth.
A glance to Taehyung showed his face bathed in the glow as well, painting his skin with molten gold that danced in his eyes and streaked through his hair like brushstrokes.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away.
Mindless to the risk of him catching you, you allowed your gaze to trail along his features, cast into striking light and shade. You longed to reach out, touch his hair. It looked indulgently soft, waving in a light breeze as you travelled.
All too soon, shadows were once again flitting over his cheeks as you were brought closer to the ground.
Awed smile remaining on his parted lips, he turned his face to you. Though you swallowed, you didn’t bother to look away, simply returning a smile. If possible, his seemed to soften even more at this.
Landing was softer than leaving the ground, barely a bump letting you know you were back on the earth. Since you sat down, lethargy had crept up on you, revealing how spent you were after the day outside.
Taehyung stood while you were still blinking groggily from your position laying on your arms.
“Come on,” a low chuckled accompanied the sliding of arms around you.
You complied, finding your feet and stepping out of the bus with a yawn. Without a moment to spare, the vehicle? creature? had leapt from the ground, soon whizzing out of sight.
Until you climbed the steps to Taehyung’s house, the cool air waking you sufficiently to slip off your shoes, you hadn’t noticed that your clothes had dried.
“They never stop with the surprises,” Taehyung’s low voice chuckled, making you look up.
You had been standing just inside the doorway, ogling your sleeves as if you might blink and find them soaking wet again in an instant. Meanwhile, Tae stood in the living room, one hand dug into a pocket as his other fingers slipped open the top button of his shirt with practised ease.
Gulping at the sight, you fixed your eyes back on his.
He simply smiled. Under one arm he gathered a blanket that had been strewn on the couch, but it was his free hand he held out to you, fingers outstretched, inviting.
Grateful, you stepped closer, inhaling the comforting scent of his home. You hadn’t noticed it before, but though your clothes were dry they still gave off the odour of river water, making the aroma of paints mingled with herbs and spices more prominent by contrast as you closed the space between you.
Hand closing around the offered blanket, you broke eye contact for the first time.
“This feels like a dream,” you murmured, head shaking lightly.
A beat of silence as Tae released his grip on the soft fabric, transferring it to your fingers.
“It does,” he whispered.
Had you looked up, you would have found his eyes still trained intently on you. So close, he bit his tongue, not trusting his voice further given the way his throat closed up, lending his deep voice more gravel than usual.
Stifling a yawn, you looked around, already pulling the blanket over your shoulders. Despite the quick journey and drying off, the chill of the outside lingered a little.
“Where do you want me?” you yawned.
Tae cleared his throat before he spoke, stepping away though he left his fingers tangled loosely with your own.
“The bedroom is fine, i-if you want to, that is,” he hastened to add, “we’re both tired. Let’s get some sleep.”
While normally your manners would have you protest at least a little, you had to admit how sleepy you were becoming. It was impossible to deny that Tae had just proposed exactly what you wanted, and so you let him lead you to the bedroom, where you sunk onto the futon as he gathered some clothes from his wardrobe.
Folded beside you, you handled them with reverent fingers, slipping out of your clothes once Tae had excused himself for the bathroom.
You reversed your tasks once more before you found yourself bundled in comforting blankets, the weight next to you a steadying influence in the darkness. Though you longed to reach out for him, trace your fingertips over his skin, hold him close-
you really were just too tired.
And maybe it was testament to the security of his presence that you were unable to act on your desires, sleep claiming you strongly instead, taking you quicker than you had managed in months.
Waking up, however, was a different story.
While the exhaustion of yesterday had muffled any thoughts beyond wanting to sleep, today your mind was overflowing even as you first blinked at the pale light.
Beside you, Taehyung still lay sleeping. You were simultaneously aware of his peaceful beauty, and the panic with which you found yourself revelling in it. It seemed you had become a little too attached to him. Maybe this had all been a mistake…
Also in the back of your mind, though rapidly elbowing its way to the forefront, was the fact you hadn’t been home for an entire day. Your phone was still there; who knew how many work calls you might have missed?
Though you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to regret turning away from it, you couldn’t shake the itching responsibility to get back and see what mess awaited.
But at the same time, that terrified you beyond belief.
Most of all, however, your mind was swimming with colours. Shapes, snippets of designs floated in your brain. You weren’t sure when the last time that had happened was. You used to dream up your designs, when you were still beginning your career, desperate to create.
And though there were many scary things waiting for you, this revelation, this newfound desire to design again, lent your limbs new strength as you rolled from the bed.
Reclaiming your clothes from last night was first up; Tae had draped them over kitchen chairs to air out, but the smell lingered a little. It didn’t bother you too much, so you dressed quickly.
It was then that the soft creaking of floorboards caught your attention. You turned just in time to see Tae emerge from the bedroom, eyes barely cracked open while his lips were puffed out in an adorable pout, clearly only half-awake.
Stopping with an arm on the doorframe, hair flopping haphazardly around his face, he squinted across at you.
“Where are you going?” his low voice still rumbled in his throat, dry with disuse this morning.
Silently moving, you quickly padded across the floor towards him. None of the curtains were open yet, the watery morning light permeating the air tentatively.
In this dim space, you had the courage to lift your palms to press against his cheeks. On meeting his big eyes that stared across at you, you swallowed.
“There’s something I have to do,” you breathed, gaze skimming down his face as he watched you. Despite his bewildered state this early in the day, he was beginning to become more alert at your words.
Slowly, his fingers lifted to wrap gently around your wrist.
“Okay,” his voice remained husky, “but… you’ll come back?”
You tore your eyes from where they had focussed, without your consent, on his lips, to return his intent stare.
“Of course I will,” you whispered, mouth turning up at the corners.
For a moment, your breathing hitched. Such close distance between you two was becoming frequent, but you were far from used to it. Your cheeks still heated up, breath shallow as you savoured the softness of his skin under your hand.
Your eyes slid closed. In the relative darkness that encapsulated you, it was easy to think wishfully, imagine leaning closer in this timeless space where no one would see…
But then the moment passed, your hand slipping inconsequentially from his lingering grip.
Bringing your hand back to your side, you squeezed a smile his way and took a step backwards.
Then another.
He remained standing there as your pace sped up, and soon you were out of the door. As it closed behind you, you swore you could have seen a large pair of eyes blinking from between the trees.
Knowing what you did now, you couldn’t write it off, but neither did you pay any more attention, feeling a strange weightlessness as you trod the path to your house.
Going the short way this time, it didn’t take you long as you walked the tracks beside the glistening rice fields and farmland. Workers were already out, having risen with the sun which had fully emerged from the trees by now. As you passed, you exchanged nods and waves, smiling and giving good greetings to all you looked up at you.
Quiet fell again once you reached your road.
A nervous chill ran through you, but there was a thrill to it.
Approaching your house, you found two figures standing outside. With a frown, you drew closer.
“Auntie?” you called, making the women turn to you, “Mei?”
Mei’s warm face formed a friendly smile while your aunt beside her gawked. Recovering from her shook, she hurried to you, grasping your hands as your received her with confusion.
“Mei told me you were at Kim Taehyung’s? Is that true?”
With a glance to the old lady, you confirmed.
“That’s a relief,” your aunt laughed, “I came around yesterday to find you gone! You even left your phone!”
She was holding it out to you. Smiling weakly, you suddenly felt the weight of her watching you. Thankfully, Mei began to walk back towards her house, lessening your audience.
Sure enough, when you powered your phone on, it was instantly lighting up, ping after ping flooding your screen with notifications, calls and messages.
A frown made your aunt’s concern clear, but even you surprised yourself with your confidence as you simply grinned back.
“I have it under control,” you assured her, and walked up your steps to the door.
Inside, you took a breath, but could put it off no more. Beyond the fear of what you were about to do, lay the images of your home, the expansive fields and forests that had always been your source of inspiration. And now, a giant, friendly forest spirit-
And a hand, resting in yours.
The dial tone filled your ears, and you took a seat. Your notebook was still atop your desk, thrown aside to make way for your laptop, sat open with its screen dead. Nor had you disposed of your instant food wrappers-
“Y/N,” a stern voice crackled through the line. Your boss. “Where are those plans I asked you for?”
Though she couldn’t see you, you brought a smile to your face, summoned to lend you confidence.
“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised, already hearing the reprimand on her lips, “but something came up. And I… I have something to tell you.”
A sigh.
“Go on.”
“Well… I’ve been thinking. I appreciate all the opportunities I’ve had with this company, but I don’t think it’s taking me where I would like to go-“
“Y/N!” you weren’t sure you had ever heard so much emotion in your boss’ voice. Her voice rang with pure shock, “Do you mean to say-?”
“This is me, handing in my notice,” you spoke clearly, “thank you.”
Silence stretched out for longer than you could comfortably take. But, should you need to, you were ready to repeat yourself. Somewhere on the other line, you heard a muffled voice trying to get your boss’ attention, but it was soon gone again. You knew well the dismissive wave that person will have received.
“Very well,” she spoke at last.
And with that acceptance, you felt like you were floating.
There was a spring in your step even as you cleaned up the mess you had left behind, the whole time itching to get your hands on your pens and brushes.
You had quit. You had quit!
For so long, the notion would never have crossed your mind, the prospect of giving up too terrifying to consider. But you weren’t giving up, not at all. Maybe you were giving up on what you thought you wanted. Or what you had wanted, once upon a time, but now no longer fit you.
Instead of guilt or fear, you were filled with excitement. You knew what you wanted.
And you were halfway there.
This, however, was the easy part. No matter how hard it may be to rebuild your career, starting afresh, none of those obstacles scared you quite as much as the next thought to enter your mind.
Taehyung.
But you had promised him you would come back.
And perhaps one upheaval was enough for one day, you thought as you gathered your sketchbook, your paints. You could afford to hide from your feelings for a little longer, right?
You certainly couldn’t deny them, but you were afraid to admit them. Who knew what could happen then? You dared not hope for them being returned, and concluded to let yourself enjoy time with Tae for now.
After all, you were so excited to create, an almost alien passion that you were thrilled to welcome back.
And you could think of no one better to share this joy with. Taehyung was an artist too; he would understand.
Not far from Tae’s house, back past the open farmland, a familiar shape dominated the path in front of you. The sight of Totoro brought a smile to your face, reminding you of all the magic you had discovered in this place since you returned.
What you hadn’t quite expected was for them to be waiting for you. Unsure what to do, you settled for a quick bow and a quiet ‘hello’ as you continued.
Walking past the spirit, it just watched you for an extended moment before following along behind.
Taehyung was at the kitchen window when you arrived, and saw you coming. A boxy smile lit up his face before it disappeared from the window, emerging only seconds later in the doorway, a pair of paintbrushes clutched in his hand and dripping onto the porch. The day had bloomed into gorgeous full sun, and he held his hand up to shield his eyes from it as he watched you arrive.
A glance behind you confirmed Totoro was still following.
“They were standing around outside all morning,” Tae began talking, coming down the steps to meet you, “thought they wanted me to come into the forest, but when I tried, they walked even further down that way. What do you think’s got into them?”
“Beats me,” you shrugged, “but they seem happy enough now.”
Sure enough, Totoro had retreated a little further towards the treeline, still watching you both. For a moment, you and Tae both twisted around, looking back at the creature.
“Anyway…” you laughed.
Joining in, Tae led the way back inside, wiping his brushes against his trousers.
“Did you do what you needed to?” he asked, back facing you. The art supplies in your arms hadn’t gone unnoticed, and he was pulling out a chair to place next to his own setup.
“Yeah,” you hummed, setting your things down, “I, er- I quit my job.”
Brows lifting, Tae straightened up to face you. But his mouth soon slid into a bright smirk.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” you breathed. You couldn’t keep your own beaming smile away from your face.
His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.
“So you’re going to be around here for a while, then?”
“Yeah,” you smiled warmly, “I think I am.”
Over the next few hours, the image you had hoped for came to life. Sitting side by side, you and Tae both went about your works in pleasureable silence. Him, hidden behind an easel and periodically popping his head around it to survey they scenery, and you, meagre sketchbook propped on a cluttered desk.
It was perfect.
And finally, your creative energy was allowed to burst forth. For the first time since you were a student, you drew. And drew. And drew.
Pages seemed to fill themselves up, and if some thoughts were still unpolished, at least they were here, proof that you had never lost your spark, the spark which the fruitless toil of your old workplace had stamped out. Maybe you had just lost your way, temporarily.
And for that short afternoon, you were able to push all other thoughts from your mind. Especially those pertaining to a certain fluffy-haired artist with a boxy smile.
But even having half your worries settled was a relief.
That night, you returned home. Though you slept easier than the last time you were in this bed, you were ashamed of how much you longed for Tae’s presence next to you. Even when you had slept silently, barely touching save for the odd brush of an arm or leg when you rolled over, it was a grounding relief to have him there.
Luckily, you hadn’t even had to ask him yesterday if you could drop by again; he had leapt on the chance to invite you himself.
So you didn’t dwell on the way you reached out when you woke up, expecting to find a warm presence under the blankets with you. Instead, you happily climbed out of bed, ready to repeat your routine from yesterday.
This time, you at least brought some snacks along from your kitchen.
Today brought a large dose of d ja-vu along with it. Totoro was once again waiting for you, expectant. It took you off guard, but slipped your mind once you were back at Tae’s side, happily working for the remainder of the morning.
But Totoro didn’t give up. Those large eyes blinked through the window when the two of you went to prepare food.
“Do you want attention?” you chuckled, knowing you wouldn’t receive an answer.
“What do you say?” Tae’s low voice grew closer, “fancy a break outside?”
You were prevented from replying when his breath fell across your neck, causing you to stiffen. But he simply leaned over, hooking his chin lazily on your shoulder as he dropped another spoon into the sink where you were washing up.
“Y/N?” he frowned when met with your silence, small pout forming as he drew back to look at you.
You shook yourself.
“What? Oh, yes,” you tripped over your tongue, “that sounds great. Looks like Totoro would appreciate that too.”
With a laugh, Tae wiped his hands on a cloth.
“I’ll go get changed.”
Not long later, you were surrounded by trees, bathed now in deep shade that shielded you from the midday sun. Totoro had seemingly been satisfied by your attention, as they had followed you on your walk without protest.
Not that you were sure how they would protest if they wanted to, but your point stands.
It was strange how accustomed you were to the spirit by now, no longer staring over your shoulder at the creature. Instead, you were preoccupied by Tae as he ran, giggling, towards a tree with the perfect low-hanging branches for climbing.
By the time you had reached him, he was dangling, sloth-style, so that he was level with your head. His grin was just as goofy upside-down, and you swatted at his soft hair as it hung off his reddening face.
“Budge up,” you grinned, trying to hoist yourself up as well.
You had succeeded in getting onto the first branch when Totoro appeared by the base of the tree. Smiling down at them, you waited for Tae to clamber up to the next bough.
The moment you looked back to him, however, you felt a strange tug, shrieking when you found no branch below your feet. Looking about wildly, your feet flailed, scrabbling for any kind of purchase.
From where he hung onto a branch, Taehyung looked down sharply in a panic, but instead found you level with him.
Wide eyes stared at one another until the same feeling clutched at Tae, stomach dropping as he was miraculously lifted from his perch.
A look behind you showed Totoro still right there, also floating. One arm was holding you, Tae’s hand clutching the other. As you blinked in mute shock at the spirit, they opened their mouth, stretching into a wide grin. Laughter floated past your lips at the sight.
Somehow, you dodged the branches crossing your path as you ascended, though they grew sparser as you carried on upwards. Unlike your journey in the bus, you could feel a breeze coursing past you now.
Gaping in disbelief, you found Tae again, reaching out to him. Your expression was mirrored on his, and he eagerly entwined your free hands, smile softening as you were brought closer in the air.
And as you floated high above the ground, you somehow felt little difference than the way you always did when Tae was beside you, hand resting in your own.
You laughed again, a sound of pure joy, forgetting the spirit carrying you as you simply watched his eyes. Among the cool breeze, you felt a slight tickle of warmth from his breath.
As you watched, his smile slowly melted from his lips, captivated instead by your stare, though he looked no less peaceful.
But just as distant hills could be revealed beyond the thinning leaves, you felt a warm hold loosening around you. You hadn’t even noticed it, but now it was retracting, you could feel the spirit’s magic clearly and panicked. In an instant, you had grabbed the nearest branch, which was surprisingly sturdy.
In your rush, your hand had slipped from Tae’s, but a shudder of the branch told you he had also caught hold of it.
The calming magic slipped away completely.
Now clutching the tree for dear life, you looked down, but Totoro was nowhere to be seen. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath. Then, with a surge of energy, you swung further onto the branch, ignoring the way it lurched, to give you a steadier sitting place.
“You alright?” you panted.
Only a grunt answered you as Tae copied your action.
As he righted himself, you caught an uneasy wobble in his expression, instinctively holding out a hand.
“Come here.”
Gladly taking it, Taehyung’s shoulders lowered, easing a bit once you were connected. Waiting for him, you shimmied a short distance to rest where the branch met the trunk. On reaching you, Tae pressed closer, shoulder up against your own.
Smiling fondly, you twisted so you could reach your arms around him loosely.
“It’s okay,” you whispered, though you had no idea what had just happened.
“Not a fan of heights,” he murmured, but his deep voice did not seem panicked.
“At least it’s pretty,” you pointed out, nudging him the smallest amount to avoid toppling.
You were right. Between picture frames formed by intertwining branches, the land stretched out in the brilliant light. The same land that had always inspired you. How could you bring yourself to be irritated at Totoro for bringing you here?
“You seem remarkably calm,” a chuckle rumbled through Tae’s chest.
“I’m not sure anything else can surprise me now.”
He smiled, turning towards you. In this position, though, you were intimately close, his nose barely an inch from your own once he had twisted to look into your eyes. Inhaling sharply, you gripped the tree trunk harder.
“Why do you think they brought us here?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered, not trusting your voice, “but they wouldn’t hurt us.”
“I know that,” Taehyung nodded, gaze dropping enough for you to deflate again.
Still holding onto each other like it was the most natural thing, you eyed the landscape for a little while longer, allowing quiet to elapse.
But this proximity wasn’t doing you any favours. Though you were sure Tae was oblivious, your heart was beating erratically, unable to forget his presence. All the thoughts that had occupied you lately were flooding in, except this time there was no escape.
Literally.
You were stuck in this tree next to the man who drove you crazy any time he looked your way. The man you were dying to spend time with the moment you woke up each day. The man who accepted you, supported you, reminded you where your true passion lay.
No, you couldn’t take this.
“Hey,” a low voice brushed your earlobe, just moments before a gentle finger found your chin, bringing it up.
You had barely noticed your gaze falling from the view in front of you while you lost yourself in useless circles of thought. Now, you couldn’t look away as shining dark eyes captivated your own.
“What are you thinking about?” Taehyung asked, lips curving upwards.
Licking your lips, you tore your eyes away. This was too much for your poor heart.
“Y/N?” he ducked to catch your eyes, brow creasing.
You were too weak for this boy. As soon as you saw the slight displeasure on his face, you longed to chase it away.
You sighed.
“You…”
Nearly as quiet as the breeze, you half hoped your admission would be carried away. But as you bit your tongue, daring to look up, you knew Tae had heard. His smile grew, though he tilted his head questioningly.
“What about me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you grinned, looking away again. This was too risky. Maybe he would buy the joke and drop it before you made a fool of yourself-
“I was thinking about you too.”
You blinked.
“You were?”
He hummed, not a trace of insincerity in his large eyes as he nodded.
“Well…” you picked subconsciously at your sleeve, “what were you thinking about?”
“Nosy,” he griped, taking a light swipe at your nose with his forefinger.
Succeeding in bringing a smile to your face as you jerked your head away with a laugh, he sighed, shuffling closer indetectably.
“I was wondering… maybe Totoro did this because of you-“ just as you gaped indignantly, he hurried on “-because of us. They put us up here… together.”
“Oh. Yeah,” you nodded, brow furrowing.
“But even if- if that’s not the case…”
Taehyung trailed off, bringing your attention back to him. He wet his lips, sucking his lower one between worrying teeth before meeting your eyes again.
“We’re alone and, well… I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you.”
That knocked all the air out of your lungs. You sucked a shaky breath, then out.
“What it would be like?” you echoed.
He nodded, gulping.
And then something snapped. Unable to stand it anymore, you slid your hand to his jaw, the next moment surging forwards, lips colliding desperately.
His arms tugged you closer instantly, pulling you against him, fingers grasping at your waist hungrily as he titled his head to meet you. And heaven, it felt amazing. His lips were as soft as they looked, leaving you lapping at them with desire as his caressed yours just as dreamily, simultaneously intense with longing pressure and gentle with reverence.
Caving to him completely, you let yourself mould to his embrace. The flowing wind around you, the rustling of the leaves were utterly driven from your mind by the maddening nudge of his tongue, prompting you to deepen the kiss.
But though your fingers still clutched his jaw desperately, you were forced to break the kiss, falling away giddy and breathless.
Tae lifted a hand to your hair as well, stroking it soothingly as he pulled you close again, foreheads touching.
“Well…” you were the first to recover your voice, “I think it would feel something like that.”
A smile burst onto his face, dominating your vision, no doubt a copy of your own ecstatic grin.
Almost immediately, a strong wind ripped through the treetops. Wiping the smile from your face, you gripped tighter to both the tree and to Taehyung.
He looked around.
Following his gaze, sure enough, you were met with two large eyes staring innocently back at you.
A beat consisted of you blinking at one another in silence, before a gasping laugh burst from your mouth. Clapping a hand over it, you met Tae’s eyes, also finding him dissolve into laughter that creased his eyes.
“Looks like you were right,” you chuckled as the warm magic began to lift you once again.
“You were just waiting for us to confess!” Tae cried.
But the wide smile on his face as he pulled you closer mid-flight showed he was far from outraged.
That night saw you tumbling at last into the same bed as Tae again. You didn’t want to leave, and you never had to.
Over time, you moved in, your own things settling among the paintings, brushes and pots that filled Tae’s house. Your house.
Every day you would see the trees, feel the wind through your hair and the sun glowing between the forest branches – the very place where you had finally given into the love binding you.
And you drew. You drew and drew, and designed until you were making a name in your own right. People would ask you about the distinctive round creatures that commonly featured in your designs. Of course, you would always laugh, a familiar sound that you shared with your boyfriend, keeping the unofficial secret between yourselves.
The two of you knew, not only the forest spirits, but the dust bunnies and flurries of wind that snaked through the roof timbers on the coldest nights. And then, you could always be assured of a warm presence beside you, to hold you through the night.
But above all, you got to see that glorious smile every day, never fading from your life.
You could breathe again.
Thank you for reading! If you want more, there is a follow up drabble here. Come chat with me if you enjoyed it!
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#thebtswritersclub#vantaenet#GhibliCollab2021#taehyung imagine#taehyung x reader#btscreatorscorner#purplearmynet#bangtanarmynet#kim taehyung fluff#boyfriend taehyung#taehyung scenario#taehyung fluff#kim taehyung friends to lovers#bts fanfiction#taehyung x you#taehyung imagines#taehyung comfort#kim taehyung au
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Legacies 4x12
First off, let me just say that the Limbo plot is still boring, I still hate what they’ve done to Alaric (Early-to-mid-TVD-Alaric, I miss you dude. (Obligatory Matt Davis Sucks)), and Landon Kirby still deserves the world twice over. I feel kind of bad for Ted, but I’m also crazy annoyed that the Necromancer is back (and with an awful new rocker look)
That being said, it was a great choice not to have any Squad/Salvatore School/Mystic Falls plotlines this episode. With the cast of characters so split up, everything has been feeling a little all over the place with the Hope/Lizzie side being the saving grace every single time.
That last scene was everything. When DRR is allowed to be good, she’s good. And finally, finally, we get to see Hope feed. The fact that they held off on this for so long actually makes it even better.
So not feeling this redemption (?) arc for Aurora. Now, I say this as someone with no diagnosed mental illnesses, but just because both Lizzie and Aurora have BD doesn’t mean they’re at all similar. Lizzie is being way too sympathetic, and I think she only felt this strongly about it because she was simultaneously having a very appropriate reaction to the worst heights of Hope’s no-humanity-spree (that she knows of). It’s also another case of Lizzie thinking the worst of herself that she’s comparing herself to Aurora. While Aurora was a victim of the Mikaelsons and even Tristan to some extent, she still did spend 1000 years killing innocent people who had never hurt her simply because she had the power to do it.
And this new plan of theirs to turn back time or whatever? I know it won’t actually happen since Lizzie plans to go back to a time where Josie is with her and we knew Kaylee won’t be back, but still. Logistically, it makes no sense and only shows how short-sighted Lizzie is being. Because if she isn’t planning to double-cross Aurora, is Lizzie really planning to go back to a time where Tristan is alive (aka, when Lizzie was maybe 5?). Even worse, Tristan was awful? If Lizzie knew who Tristan was outside of this analogy she’s created where she’s Aurora and Josie is Tristan, she would not be okay with this, and would probably kill Aurora on her own terms without all the torture under the sire bond.
I’m going to talk about that last scene again because it’s the culmination of everything I loved about this episode anyway. First of all, the major TVD vibes with Hope killing someone in the middle of the street at the border of Mystic Falls. In the master bedroom of the reconstructed Gilbert House, Damon just woke up in a cold sweat.
And yes, Hope’s emotions are coming back and she’s doing everything she can to make sure it won’t happen. Her desperation is so fucking delicious.
When they panned to the Mystic Falls sign, I was getting so excited bc I thought this meant we were finally getting Hope as the villain in Mystic Falls, planning to go crazy and destroy anything and everyone who could incite an emotional response in her. Unfortunately per the promo, it looks like she’s there because she needs serious backup in her plot to keep the gods out of her way or whatever. To be honest, I don’t really understand why she is actively hunting the gods and not just going straight for Aurora again with more vicious efficiency or going ham with a spell to make her untrackable to even Aurora.
In general, I’m not excited at all for the gods plotline. I like Ben, but the infodump that was the previous episode was just bad writing. The first few episodes of the season set up such a perfect situation: Hope is the Tribrid and her humanity is off, Lizzie is off to get revenge and kill her, Josie... (okay, let’s face it, Josie hasn’t had a good story since season 2), Kaleb is struggling with ostracization after his betrayal, Ethan is now supernatural, the Squad in general is trying to navigate the new status quo at the school now that their main players are gone. This entire season should be about the interpersonal relationships between them all and how everything is changing. It should be about Hope’s switch to the dark side destroying relationships and picking up the pieces when it's over with. Instead, the writers panicked about Hope being the Tribrid and decided to just go up the power scale to freaking gods. Maybe next season, sure, but this season doesn’t need a new type of villain that the Tribrid needs to struggle against, because the villain is supposed to be Hope herself! Yall, it’s frustrating
anyway
Still, this episode was pretty good. The entire struggle between Lizzie and Hope in the hotel room was gorgeous. DRR really is doing great as no humanity Hope, and of course Jenny Boyd kills it with Lizzie’s emotional side. Hope making a torture device out of a fucking smoking detector was hilarious (and also very gruesome??). The opening scene really does take me back to the (in hindsight) strange number of times characters are confronted in cafes in the other TVDU shows.
The thing that this episode made me think about a lot has to do with Hope’s humanity, and specifically what she said in that last scene. I think I’ll make a separate post on it because I find it really interesting.
#legacies#tvdu#legacies season 4#legacies 4x12#hope mikaelson#lizzie saltzman#aurora de martel#alaric saltzman#landon kirby#the necromancer legacies
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Be Mine (02)
Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.
Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars
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Seaside Paradise Tokyo.
Or, how Niragi introduces it to you, the Beach.
He leads you inside as if he owns the place. You wouldn’t doubt it, noticing how the people around get out of his way or hurriedly leave the room. You gulp; not a good sign. You look around the big lobby of what used to be a luxury hotel. The first thing you notice is how everyone is wearing some kind of swimwear; Niragi seems to be the exception.
There are more people there than what you’ve seen in weeks, and the sight fills you with anxiety. You know everyone knows exactly what you are and what you’ve done; it would be impossible not to. You notice the whispers and barely masked expressions of surprise and curiosity as those strangers smell you. Smell him in you.
You keep your eyes down as Niragi guides you through the building to an unknown destination. The hand on your lower back is warm and makes you feel less tense. You have no idea what to expect; you don’t know these people or what they stand for. You have no idea what you just got yourself into. But, for better or for worse, at least he’s there and you know he will keep you safe. No matter what.
You risk a sideways glance at him. He doesn’t look at you, but you notice the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk, his fingers brushing against your lower back. You blush; you hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since you left the roof, but his hand never stopped touching you.
The people who were hunting you just hours before now stand behind you, whispering. It's a small group; four men and two women. You haven’t been introduced yet, but you feel like those people know way too much about you already. You remember the ride to that place and the moments before that, cringing.
Saying that it had been awkward would be an understatement; it was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Like the walk of shame you would see sometimes in American movies, but worse. Oh so much worse.
Words weren’t needed for them to know what had transpired on the roof. They had known the moment you appeared in front of them; sweaty, dirty, clearly disheveled and reeking of him. It also didn’t help how Niragi had shown up right behind you, chest puffed like a peacock and a grin on his face.
No one had directed a word at you. The women just smiled in your direction and the men pat Niragi’s back, smirking and throwing around some distasteful comments that made him laugh. It made you feel like some kind of trophy; you supposed you were.
You had sat in the back of a car with just him, one of his men on the wheel while a woman sat on the passenger seat. You could feel their eyes on you, and you squirmed in your seat. Niragi’s hand was on your knee, thumb rubbing your skin in circles as he hummed a melody you didn’t recognize. Your head was full of questions; where were you going? How many people were there? What expected you? You had no idea. You stared out of the window at the empty streets of Tokyo, lost in your thoughts.
“Where do you keep your cards?” he had suddenly asked, startling you.
“Uh, hm my cards? In a backpack in my shelter,” you answered, brow raised. “Why?”
“Where is that?”
You had given the necessary directions to your most recent hiding spot and he transmitted them through a walkie-talkie. The rest of the ride was made in silence (eyes still on you), so you returned your attention to the passing view outside. However, the hand on your knee was still the major focus of your brain, and you kept replaying your encounter in your head; how his hands-
A door closing behind you brings you back to the present. You look around the big room you’re in now, taking in your surroundings; a long table occupies the center of it, with some sofas in a corner. Like everything else in that place, it looks expensive. You’re also not alone in that room; several strangers have their eyes locked on you. Their expressions go from barely hidden curiosity to blatant distrust. You tense, feeling threatened; you wonder if you could run past the guards by the door if the need arises. Niragi’s hand goes around your waist, pulling your body to his side in a movement that isn’t unseen by the others.
“So it’s true!” a voice exclaims, making you jump. The man sitting at the head of the table stands up, walking in your direction with open arms and a grin on his face. He’s dressed in just a pair of swim trunks and a colorful kimono, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. His cheery demeanor puts you off for some reason. “You really bonded with an Omega!”
“We’re not bonded.” “They’re not bonded.” You blurt out at the same time as someone else. You look for the owner of the voice, and your heart stops when you set your eyes on him. You have no idea how you missed him; how his scent didn’t hit you as soon as you walked through those doors.
An Alpha.
You can definitely smell him now. Niragi’s scent is spicy and warm, like cinnamon and wood. This Alpha’s scent, however, is the complete opposite; he smells like something clean and fresh, like peppermint and rain. You look him up and down; he isn’t exactly how you would describe an Alpha; He’s shorter than most men and lean, with features that strangely remind you of a cat. His hair is white and his cold dark eyes pierce into yours while showing no emotion. However, there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Yes, he definitely gives you cat vibes.
Niragi feels your body react before you do. His frame is blocking your vision before you can say or do anything.
“She’s mine!” he snarls in the direction of the other man. “You better stay the fuck away.”
You furrow your brow and push him aside. Indignation and anger rise inside you. You’re not his; not really. What you did is nothing definitive. He has no right in claiming you like that. Niragi stares at you in surprise before his eyes narrow. You notice his jaw clench. Well, he can stay mad for all you care.
“Stop talking about me like I’m a damn object!” you mutter to him, arms crossed over your chest, “We’re not bonded.” you clarify aloud. You lock eyes with the other Alpha; he’s full-on smirking now, something like amusement glinting in his eyes. It makes something tingle inside you. You ignore the sensation. “I don’t-”
“We’re not bonded yet.” Niragi grabs your arm and pulls you to him, hands possessively going around your waist. His glare never leaves the other Alpha as he says, “We will be, once she’s in heat, so back the fuck off.” In a swift movement, the riffle on his shoulder is on his hand, pointing it right at the other man. “If I even think you touched a hair on her head-”
“That’s for her to decide, no?” he retorts, a smirk still on his lips. His taunt expression doesn’t change as he winks at you, “Name’s Chishiya.”
You barely have time to grab Niragi’s arm as he lunges himself in the direction of the shorter man. “Niragi, stop!” And surprisingly, he does. The murderous rage in his eyes doesn’t disappear nor he lowers the gun, but he stops.
“Niragi,” a man calls, a warning tone in his voice. He’s sitting at the other head of the table, arms crossed and face stoic. A scar runs across his left eye. “Easy there.”
“No no, Aguni, let them continue,” says the man that had first spoken when you arrived. The grin still hasn’t left his face. “This is quite entertaining.”
You take a deep breath, wondering once again where the hell did you get yourself into. You quickly assess the room; the people sitting around that table just stare, clearly not meaning to get involved in a dispute between two Alphas. You can feel the situation escalating, and no one seems to want to do anything.
“Niragi,” you put your hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his lower lip, “Drop it, please. You’re scaring me.” He finally looks at you, and his expression softens. You hoped that would work; you had seen your mother do the same to your father dozens of times. Niragi lowers the gun, and you let out a sigh of relief.
The sound of claps startles you.
“Fascinating!” the man in the kimono and sunglasses says in the middle of clapping. “Not even Aguni there can calm down Niragi as fast as you just did.” he chuckles, “Are you sure that he’s the Alpha in the relationship?”
You feel Niragi tense against you, but he keeps silent.
“You know, my grandparents were bonded too.” the man continues without waiting for an answer. “I never really understood the dynamics of Alpha and Omega relationships though, it sounds so bothersome. Being bonded for life with someone you normally wouldn’t even stand just because of your animal sides,” he shakes his head. “Didn’t stop my grandfather from cheating though.”
You look down; it hadn’t stopped your father either.
“Anyway, welcome to the Beach!” he slightly bows in a greeting, “And your name is?”
“Y/N,” you say. You hear Niragi whisper your name, and you realize he didn’t know it until now. He doesn’t know anything about you. Nor you about him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Hatter.” he walks back towards his spot at the head of the table, sitting down like a king on a throne. “Now Y/N, there are only three rules in this utopian Beach. Rule number one:” he points at himself, “Always wear swimwear at the Beach. Rule number two-”
“Why swimwear?” you interrupt. Walking around so exposed is not something you like. “Niragi doesn’t wear one.”
“Well, for safety reasons, of course,” he explains. “You can’t hide weapons in a swimsuit.” he chuckles, nodding at Niragi, “And your boyfriend there just simply refuses to wear one. Not that it makes a difference; he’s always carrying that riffle around anyway.” he clears his throat, “As I was saying, rule number two is that all cards belong to the Beach. You’ll give us all the cards you have in your possession as well as every card you’ll get in the future. If you contribute a lot you can even be promoted to a higher number and, eventually, leave this country.”
“Wait, what do you mean leave?” a spark of hope; there is a way to leave that hell hole.
“Oh, your boyfriend didn’t explain it to you?” Hatter asks, “If you’re able to get every card, you can go back to the real world. We work by numbers here; I am number one, which means I’ll be the first to leave when we get all the cards. After me is Aguni, as he’s number two and so on. So, if we all put in the work and gather enough double cards, everyone on the Beach will be able to leave this country eventually.”
“Is it true?” you turn to Niragi. “We can actually leave?”
He nods, “I want her to have the number before mine.” he says in Hatter’s direction. “I’m not leaving without her.”
“We have a system in place, Niragi,” a bespectacled man speaks at Hatter’s right, “We can’t change it just because you have...fallen in love, or whatever it is. There are rules”
“Kuzuryū is right,” adds a woman in shorts and sunglasses. Her tone is bored, but her body language tells you she’s interested in the conversation, “She has to prove her worth. If she can’t, then she’ll have to get in line just like everyone else.”
You feel Niragi’s body tense up again, gun rising just a little.
“I don’t need charity,” you speak before he can, pressing the gun down. “I’m more than capable of rising up the rankings by myself. And I’ve been surviving on my own just fine, so I know I can do this.”
“Y/N, no-”
“Oh, so she plays by the rules,” Chishiya. You had almost forgotten about him if it wasn’t for the scent of peppermint mixing with the scent of cinnamon. “What’s your specialty?”
“My specialty?”
“Yeah, what kind of games are you good at?”
“I- I don’t know.” You just did your best to survive while staying away from others. That made games of clubs particularly difficult, but nothing you couldn’t overcome. “Never really thought about it.”
“Then I guess we will find out.” the woman from before says.
“It’s settled then!” Hatter declares with a clap. “Ann here will personally evaluate your gaming skills. You’re free to indulge in whatever you wish to, at the Beach; alcohol, drugs, sex. Have fun and enjoy yourself while you can. Just remember the third rule; the last and most important rule,” he makes a dramatic pause. “Death to the traitors. Not even your Alpha boyfriend could save you if you broke that rule.” You feel the threat in his words as much as Niragi does, but both of you keep quiet. “Is that clear?” You nod in confirmation. “Great! Meeting adjourned.”
Niragi is pulling you out of the room before you can ask any more questions; you happen to have a lot of them, but decide to keep them to yourself for now.
“Why the fuck did you stop me from trying to help you?” he asks without looking at you. You almost trot while trying to keep up with his long legs. “I’m trying to keep you safe, goddammit!”
“But I don’t need saving!” you retort with a huff, “I’m more than capable of standing up for myself and get stuff on my own.”
He abruptly stops in the middle of the empty hallway, hands grabbing your shoulders. “Have you forgotten about what we agreed upon?” he asks with a scowl. A strand of raven hair falls over his eyes and you have to fight the impulse to tuck it behind his ear. “You’re mine, remember?”
“Well, and you seem to forget that I have some rules I would like for you to respect!” you talk back, arms crossing over your chest. “The first one is for you to stop acting as if you own me.”
“But I-”
“You don’t!” you interrupt a little too loudly, “I won’t let this fucking animal in me decide what I want. And you better do the same!”
“Trouble in paradise already?” a voice makes you freeze. You turn to face Chishiya, just a few meters behind you. The look in his eyes is something like malice and amusement; he likes whatever he’s seeing.
Niragi lets out a dramatic sigh, “Oh for fuck’s sake, will you fucking leave me alone and die?!” he pinches the bridge of his nose before pointing the rifle at the man once again, “I really have no fucking patience for you right now, so fuck off will ya?”
Chishiya huffs out a laugh and raises his hands in mocking surrender. “I was just passing by, you are the one that decided to have a fight in the middle of the hallway.” He keeps walking in your direction and purposely passes in between you two, arms still raised in the air. Your mind fogs for a moment as his scent takes over your brain and his eyes lock into yours. Something flashes in his dark brown eyes; something you can’t quite place, but that you’re sure it’s his wolf showing himself for just a moment. “See you around,” he waves as he disappears around a corner.
“I fucking hate that white-haired freak,” Niragi mumbles beside you. “I swear to God, if he even thinks about touching you, I’m shooting-”
“And if I want him to?” you say without much thinking. “At least I would be-”
Your breath is taken out of you as Niragi presses you against a wall.
“Say that again,” he practically growls in your ear as his chest presses against your back. Heat pools between your legs instantly, and you want to curse yourself; your wolf could at least have a little dignity. His nostrils flare as he buries his nose on your neck, right above your pulse. You feel the piercing of his tongue on your skin, and you shudder. “I’ll make you say those exact words again while I’m deep inside you, and let’s see if you’ll want him by then.”
“Ge- get off me, you brute,” you manage to say.
“Yeah?” his crotch presses against your ass, and you feel him growing hard, “Now say it like you mean it.”
“Hmm-hmm.”
You press against him, giving in just a little. He does make you feel good. His mouth starts gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. You moan.
“Niragi.”
You jump at the sound of someone calling his name right behind you, hurriedly pushing Niragi off of you. The man with the scar over his eyes, Aguni, stands there, a look of barely hidden discomfort breaking what seems to be his usually stoic expression.
“You guys know that this is a public hallway, right?” he asks with a sigh, “Please get a room.”
He walks away before any of you can say anything. Niragi shrugs and tries to pull you against him again before you swiftly contort yourself out of his arms.
“No, no, no, we’re not doing this,” you point between you two, shaking your head. “Especially not here. We have a lot to discuss.”
Niragi sighs and rolls his eyes.
“Fine,” he says in a reluctant tone. “Let’s find something for you to change into, then,” he says with a smirk, signing at you to follow him. “And we’re not done here.”
“Hm, we’ll see about that,” you retort, following him.
He leads you through the building while explaining things in a bored tourist guide tone; how they manage to have water by harvesting rainwater, how electricity is powered by generators, and how things are organized every time there’s a game. You also ask small things here and there, like how many people live at the Beach and what everyone usually does for fun. He answers you semi-patiently. He finally stops at a door, opening it to reveal a room that you guess was configured to be a storage room for clothing.
“Choose whatever you want from here,” he says before giving you a plastic bag and leaning against the threshold. “Take your time.”
You go through the room, promptly avoiding anything too flashy or colorful; the last thing you want is to get unwanted attention. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you search through the clothes; you keep wondering if this was the safest choice. Too late now, anyway. You wish Niragi had at least let you keep your knife; you hate feeling defenseless.
After some rather quick browsing, you end up choosing a simple, black one-piece, together with two pairs of too-short jean shorts and a too-thin jacket hoody. You also pick up some underwear and two or three pairs of shirts.
“I’m done.”
Niragi takes the bag from your hands without a word, extending something to you. You take it; is a wristband with a number attached. Forty-two.
“Is this my number?” you wonder. He nods. “Isn’t this a little too high? I just got here, after all.”
“You don’t have many valuable cards, so that’s the highest number I could get you for now,” he says with a shrug.
“But I said-”
“Yeah I know what you said, just put on the damn thing, will ya?” he says in a harsh tone. You hesitate for a moment before putting it around your wrist; you won’t fight him more on this particular subject. You intend on getting an even higher number, anyway; you want out of this place as quickly as possible. He seems pleased when you don’t talk back. “Good girl. Now let me show you to your room.”
You ignore the feeling his words of praise make you feel and follow him close behind. Your room ends up being a large bedroom on the upper floors of the hotel, luxurious but simple in style, with a balcony that gives you access to the best views. It also happens to not be your room at all; his scent is everywhere.
“This is your room,” you say matter of factly, turning to him with a sigh. “Am I not allowed to have my own room?”
“No, you’re not,” he says back, dropping your bag of clothes on the bed. “Now change.”
“Why not?” you ask, feeling annoyed. It’s like he’s set on getting you angry. “I won’t share my room with a stranger. I want my privacy.”
“A stranger?” he growls, stopping right in front of you. You keep your eyes firmly locked on his, even when his hand grabs your chin with a little too much force. “What we have is stronger than anyone else in this place could even begin to comprehend. I’m not gonna let you ruin it because you’re too stubborn to fully accept yourself. That is not my problem.” His words hurt you more than you care to admit, and you have to fight the tears that threaten to overflow your eyes. “Want a fucking room to yourself? Fine,” his grip on you tightens. His eyes are like fiery ice. “But stop rejecting me, or you’re gonna regret it.”
“You’re hurting-”
“I made you a promise,” he continues, “When you’re finally in heat and ready to take me completely, I’ll do it.” His lips brush against yours, and you shudder, “And you’ll take me, like the good little wolf that you are.”
His kiss is like a fire that burns you from within. His touch sends sparks all over your body, and you feel your wolf howling with desire, despite the feeling of his cum still on your thighs from just hours earlier. His hands pull you flush against him, and you have to control a moan as his hand gets inside your shorts to squeeze your ass. His other hand is still on your face, keeping you in position as he devours your mouth, tongue pushing against your own so forcefully that you feel like you’re going to choke.
He’s pushing you against the mattress moments later, forcing a knee in between your legs. You grind on his thigh, wanting to feel him even closer; it almost hurts how horny you are. He keeps kissing you until you’re gasping for air, moving his lips to suck on your neck as you whimper his name.
“Could any stranger make you feel like I do?” he whispers in your ear, “I’m no fucking stranger.” he bites your earlobe. “I’m your fucking Alpha, and you’ll respect me as such.” He suddenly turns you on your stomach, and you freeze. “How about I fuck you like an animal? Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate your wolf side more.” he says as his hands start pulling your shorts down your legs. You’re frozen in place, fog dissipating to be replaced by growing panic.
“No, wait-”
“Learn your fucking place,” he says as he pulls you up against him by the hair, hand sliding down your front to rip your shirt. “Take me like you were born to do.”
“Niragi, please-” you plead as you try to push him away. He doesn’t listen, pushing you back on the bed as the shirt finally leaves your back. You whimper when the cold air hits your naked skin.
You can hear a feather fall in the silence that follows. You keep frozen, face down on the sheets as tears fill your eyes. He stopped touching you, and you know what his eyes are seeing. You can feel them, burning into your back like hot iron.
“Who did this to you?” he asks in a tone you can’t quite place. You don’t answer; you can’t even face him. You don’t want to see the look of disgust or pity in his eyes. You fail to control the sob that leaves your lips, and simply shake your head, curling your legs under you.
Another moment passes before you feel something covering you. You don’t look, even when you feel him stand up away from the bed, his footsteps sounding to your right as he opens a door. You peek then and see Niragi, shirtless, by a closet. You gasp. He retrieves another shirt and puts it on. He closes the wardrobe door and you lock eyes through the mirror that appears. His eyes have no emotion on them as he averts his gaze and walks out of the room, closing the door without a sound.
You slowly stand up on the bed, still trying to control your gasping breathing. His back. You dress the item of clothing he put on you; his shirt. His scent involves you, and it instantly calms you down.
His back.
Maybe you’re not so different after all.
You wake up startled by the sound of the bedroom door closing. The room is dark, and you force your eyes to identify the tall figure standing by the door. Not that you need to; you can smell him. Him and the reek of alcohol as he gets closer. You pretend to be asleep as he stops right in front of you.
“You kept my shirt,” he says like he’s surprised. You had; after he left you had taken a long warm shower and immediately got in bed, his shirt around you to comfort you. You hear him go to the other side of the bed and sit down. You hear his boots hit the floor as he throws them somewhere across the room. Then he’s laying beside you with a sigh.
“Lie, abuse, betrayal, murder, steal,” he pauses briefly, “I’ve done it all. More times than I care to count.” Your body tenses, but you keep quiet. He lets out a humorless chuckle, “I know you’re awake.” You hear him move to his side, and feel as his fingers start playing with your hair. “I’ll let you know this, though. The next person that dares to even lay a finger on you is getting a fate worse than death. I promise.”
You stay quiet, even as you feel tears sliding down to your temple. His words shouldn’t make you feel like this; like you matter. Like he loves you. You know he doesn’t; not really. But you can’t stop the warmth that fills your heart at hearing his words and feeling his hand in your hair. People always told you how Omegas should feel, but you never understood; you are starting to now.
You turn around when you hear his breathing slow down to a soft snore. You close the gap between you by curling up against his chest, smiling when his arm goes around your waist.
For the first time in weeks, you sleep without nightmares.
Next Chapter
#alice in borderland#alice in borderland fanfic#niragi suguru#niragi#niragi x reader#chishiya shuntaro#also on ao3
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Spicy horror
Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader
Word count: ~ 4 000
Genre: Smut / Fluff
Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place.
Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral
Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)
a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn
"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.
"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.
"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.
Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.
"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.
"I hate you," he laughs.
After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.
"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."
"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."
"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."
Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"
"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"
Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.
We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.
"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.
Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.
"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.
No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.
"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."
"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"
"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.
"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"
"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.
"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.
"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."
For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.
The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.
"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.
"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.
Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.
"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.
"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"
"Does it offend you?" I smile.
"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"
I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"
"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.
We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.
Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.
Frank yawns.
"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.
"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.
"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.
Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.
"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.
"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"
Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.
"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.
"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."
"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.
"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"
I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."
"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."
"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."
"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."
I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"
Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.
"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.
"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."
"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.
"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."
"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.
"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."
"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.
"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.
A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.
"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"
"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.
"You sure?"
"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.
Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.
"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."
Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.
"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.
"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"
Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.
Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.
"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.
A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.
"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.
I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.
Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.
Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.
Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.
I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.
Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.
Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.
"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.
Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.
"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."
"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.
Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.
I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.
Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.
"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."
Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.
"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.
"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."
Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.
Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.
"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.
I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.
"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."
I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."
#frank iero x reader#frank iero imagine#frank iero#mcr#mcr fanfic#mcr x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#female reader#n*fw#my post#my chemical romance#fluff#smut#imagine#oneshot#requested
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Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life
Hawks x gn!winged!Reader
Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing
THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA
(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)
(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)
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tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part.
Word count: ~1,800
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You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.
You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.
It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀
The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street
little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street
A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.
You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes
You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious
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Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door
He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.
He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine
As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets
Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work
What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.
*******
Reader's pov(?)
*******
You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you
oh wait...
You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.
You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?
Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?
Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.
Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...
Then it hit you.
You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.
That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.
In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?
Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.
That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.
Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.
Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground
You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.
The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.
He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.
"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.
"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.
"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly.
“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.
“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought.
You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.
Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters.
" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.
Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.
"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.
"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.
"Well thank you very much!"
"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.
Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."
You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."
He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”
You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door.
Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events.
Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on.
You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess.
You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good.
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I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have
#hawks x reader#hawks x gn!reader#hawks x winged reader#bnha x reader#bnha x gn!reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#keigo x you#takami keigo x reader#keigo takami x reader#ahHHHh i really hope this ok???#feedback might be nice? idk Dx#I'm still not in the flow of fanfic writing DX its been 5 years#geeeeZ#also I apologize for the amount of ellipses that i use#thats just how I text/talk kinda#isekaied into hawks life
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Prey for You | Part 4
Genre: Smut, angst, and some fluff this time
Word Count: 4.4k
Summary: It has come to this. After your landlord kicks you out, you’re at Chan’s mercy. Turns out, he might not be as bad as you thought he was.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, switch!reader, switch!chan, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader, thigh riding, really unheathly dynamics
A/N: this part is like the opposite of a tootsie roll soft on the outside hard on the inside
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6
“This is just for a short while.” You say, swallowing the bile that has risen up in your throat as you look at the smug wolf sitting in front of you on his couch.
“Sure.” He shrugs nonchalant, but the cocky arch of his brow says otherwise and you have to squash down your pride with everything you’ve got not to jump on him. Like it or not, you’re at his mercy now that your landlord has officially evicted you. Without his gracious help, you’d now be on the streets. “I’ll find another place as soon as I can.”
“You can take all the time you need.” He opens his arms wide, going for a welcoming vibe but the stupid grin on his face counteracts it.
“No. I’ll be out of here soon.” You deadpan, not wanting to owe him more than you already do. God knows he’ll hold his over your head forever. "And I don't feel comfortable living here for free so from now on until I leave, I'll be taking care of things around the house."
“Oh, how domestic.” He chirps sweetly.
"More like a live-in maid." You mutter under your breath but he easily hears it, the stupid grin finally dropping from his face as he sits forward and looks at you sincerely. "Don't say that. I meant what I said. You’re here as a friend."
"Yeah, sure." You snort. “You’re basically high from gloating.”
A smile tickles his lips again as he leans back. “I always enjoy the chance to one-up you, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.”
“Wow, you really are a saint.” You jeer, grabbing your bag and heading towards the room that is to be yours.
_________________
To your great surprise, living with Chan was actually kind of nice. Aside from the obvious perk of living in such a comfortable, beautiful house that had everything you could ever need. Chan himself was proving himself to be a quiet congenial roommate. Most importantly, he left you the hell alone for the most part, staying cooped up in his studio the majority of the day so that you barely even saw him. And despite your agreement that you’d take care of things around the house, he still did most of his things himself, picking up after himself and washing his clothes before you got the chance to. He fed himself too as indicated by the boxes of takeout from every possible fast food place filling out the trash. So you were barely wasting any time on taking care of the house, and spending most of your days following up on your studies like you so sorely needed.
All in all, this whole arrangement was working out positively in your favor. Too positively, that you have to wonder what he was getting out of this. He can’t possibly really be doing this out of the goodness of his heart, especially since no one is even aware of this kind deed for him to gain any morality points off of it. He hasn’t even made a move on you for the whole three weeks you’d been here, seeming content to just coexist with you that you were starting to feel like you were taking advantage of him somehow. Even though this whole thing was his idea.
Maybe that, your momentary self-doubt, is what prompted you to do what you did next.
“Hmm, something smells nice.” Chan remarks, walking into the kitchen where you were making yourself some food. He stands behind you to take a look at what you were cooking, and you feel your heart skipping a beat at the now familiar scent of him filling your nostrils and his body being so close to you. And when he speaks, his voice deep and calm next to your ear, it makes your skin tingle. “Looks tasty too.”
And like a teenager who had the great fortune of being noticed by the popular jock, you twist your head around to look at him, dewy-eyed as the words stumble out of your mouth before you can think them over. “Would you like to have dinner with me today?”
He pauses, looking at you curiously and you turn back to the food and continue nervously, “I mean, that junk food you eat everyday can’t be good for you.”
“Aw, are you worried about me?” He asks cheekily, and your shoulders tense. “Never mind.”
“No, no, I’ll have dinner with you.” He rushes to say, plopping down on a seat resolutely. “No take backsies.”
“Idiot.” You mutter, finding yourself wearing an involuntary smile because of him once again.
__________________________________
You’re not the best cook, you’ll be the first to admit it, but Chan praises your food like you are a world class chef.
“Fuck off, Chan. It’s not that good.” You protest awkwardly, not really used to being complimented. But he insists, mouth full of food, “It is! It’s sublime.”
You look down at your food to avoid eye contact with him and put on your best snooty voice. “Poor thing. Your habit of eating exclusively junk food must’ve ruined your palate to the point where you think my cooking is anything but decent.”
“You sell yourself short. These hands--” He suddenly grabs your hands suddenly, startling you as he kisses them. “They’re magic.”
You yank them back to your lap, flustered, the adrenaline pushing your poor fluttering heart into overdrive and making you panic. You quickly grab your fork and shove some food into your mouth trying to distract yourself from the conflicting emotions clashing in your chest, and regretting it almost immediately as your nausea swells up.
“Is that how you woo prey?” You snark, taking a big gulp of your wine to wash down the piece of food you barely chewed. “Blatantly lie to them about their cooking skills?”
The atmosphere fully changes as Chan drops his cheery attitude. “Can we not talk about… that? It’s just you and me here. We don’t have to let the outside world in, do we?”
You still, your sense of danger rising up exponentially at his suggestion, and once again you find yourself wondering why he was doing this. What was his endgame here? Was he just messing with you? He puts on an honorable performance but you’ve seen him slip before. It must get tiring for him. Maybe he wants to see you hurt; it’s in his nature and he’s been repressing it for so long. You’d be the perfect victim too. No one even knows you’re here, and even if they did, they’d never believe your word over his.
Or he could be genuine. Maybe he’s as nice as he tries to be. But that just scares you more, because how do you deal with that? You’ve never had a relationship with someone that was open and trusting. You’ve always hid behind your games. They kept you safe. No one has ever truly hurt you because you’ve never allowed someone to get close enough. But if you trust Chan, if you let him in and he betrays you… you don’t know how you’d even recover from that.
You want to believe though. Everyone always says how much of a good person he is, how loyal, how selfless, how supportive. They can’t all be blind, right? And you’ve seen it too, in the way he always strived to protect his friends from you. He wanted the best for them. Maybe he could want the best for you too.
“Okay.” You answer in a small voice, heart pounding.
His answering smile is bright and big, but it does nothing to assuage your fears so you settle for taking another sip of your wine. That’s what it’s made for, right?
“So, what do you actually do? I never asked.” Chan makes conversation as he gets back to his food.
You clear your throat. “I’m a waitress.”
“Oh, and… um, is that what you want to be doing?” He asks unsurely.
You roll your eyes at him, feeling a little at ease at his naivety. “No. Nobody wants to work in the service industry. It’s basically slavery and all your costumers are either rude or crazy. I hate it.”
He pauses, looking like he’s thinking very hard for a moment, before he asks, perplexed. “So why do you do it?”
“To eat?”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” His ears turn red and it’s his turn to take a big gulp of his drink. “I’m, uh, apparently an idiot. Yes, people work to afford living. Of course.”
“I guess you’ve never had to think about that.” You note, surprised that you don’t feel any bitterness as you say it.
“No.” He stares at the food on his plate. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah but--”
“But I don’t have money so you feel sorry having money in front of me?” You grin, tone light, and he smiles back, face flushed as he obviously chastises himself in his head.
“So…” He starts again, and it’s a little endearing how nervous he is. “What do you really wanna do?”
You regard him for a second, wondering if you should really cross that line and let him in. Well, here goes nothing.
“I’m studying to be a doctor.”
His jaw drops to the floor. “You?”
“Yeah, shocking right?” You quip, taking another sip from your glass.
“I mean, yeah.” You would take offense at his words if it weren’t for the--you begrudgingly admit--endearing confused frown on his face. “Isn’t that a traditionally prey profession? Don’t you get, like, weird looks or something?”
“Yeah.” You snort, feeling the bitterness rise to the surface. “I get more than just weird looks. People feel the need to tell me every moment of every day how I’ll never be a good doctor. How no one will trust a fox with their life. How I should just quit and get into business or law or whatever other profession that can use my no-doubt nefarious skills.”
“That sucks.” He says then immediately cringes at his lame comment.
“Yeah, no shit. And guess who says it the most? Prey hybrids.”
A light bulb suddenly clicks above his head. “Is that why you dislike them? They’re really not all like that--”
You interrupt him sharply, already knowing where he was going with this. “They’re not like that to you because you’re powerful and rich and you could do whatever you want, but they’re ruthless to me. They’ve always been. So yeah excuse me if I don’t care too much for your prey apologism. It’s pretty infuriating actually.”
“I really think you should--”
“What about you?” You ask pointedly, clearly wanting to change the subject. “I mean, I know that you’re a producer. I suppose this is what you’ve always wanted to be doing.”
“Ah, yes.” He coughs, straightening in his seat as he reels back from the change of topic. “I’ve loved it since I was an angsty teen listening to hip hop and pretending like I’m so cool and gangsta.”
The thought of little rich boy Chan swearing it up and down and acting like a thug brings an involuntary and sincere laugh out of you. It doesn’t bother Chan though. If anything, he looks content to have made you laugh.
“Did you…” He begins after your laughter dies down, fiddling with the stem of his glass as he looks at you from under his lashes, “Have you ever listened to any of my tracks?”
“No.” You scoff, the word coming out automatically. I mean, why would you? It’s not like you like the guy.
His face falls at your flippant answer. “Ah. Of course.” He says flatly, bringing his glass to his mouth.
You feel a pang of guilt in your chest. Logically, you know you have no reason to feel bad. You two were never on the best of terms and you have no obligation to listen to his songs. And yet, as you look at his crestfallen face, the guilt still eats at you.
“How about you show me some after dinner?” You find yourself suggesting and his face immediately brightens up. “Yeah! I mean… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He interjects quickly, even though he clearly wants you to.
“I want to.” You say firmly, and he smiles.
___________________________________
“I’m a nice guy who just has a lot of money?” You wheeze, cracking up and face flushed from the intoxication. You were somehow on Chan’s lap as the night progressed from him showing you his proudest works to his most regrettable ones.
“I know. I know. What was I thinking, right?” He laughs along with you despite his obvious embarrassment.
You lean in close to his face, humming, "I think it's endearing." You kiss him.
"You just like embarrassing me." He protests weakly, mouth opening against your lips.
“Guilty.” You pull away to take his shirt off. Caressing his exposed muscles, you grin, “Hmm...yummy.”
He bursts out laughing, “You like it?”
You shrug, “It’s not what I usually go for but I can get used to it.”
He scoffs at that, and pulls your own shirt over your head. Tugging your bra over your breasts, he cups them in his hands and murmurs against your skin, “Well, I don’t need to get used to these.” before his mouth latches onto them. He sucks marks onto the sensitive flesh while his hands grope and knead your breasts.
Looking up at you, he pushes your breasts together and laps his tongue over the nipples. Your arousal spikes as your gaze locks with his challenging one, and you start rocking yourself over his thigh.
"Fuck that's hot." He mumbles, lightly tugging on your nipple with his teeth as he pulls away, making you moan out and your hips swivel down to push your core harder against his thigh.
"Wait, wait," He pulls you to your feet, and you whine, protesting the loss.
“Hush, baby girl.” He soothes, yanking your pants down your legs along with your underwear before he slips his hand between your legs to drag a finger up your slit, hissing when he feels your wetness. "That's what I want." He groans, pulling you back down on his thigh and using his grip on your hips to make you move over his thigh again. "Want you to ruin my pants with your cum, baby girl. Show me how much you need me."
"But I don't need you." You retort, though your hips don’t slow down.
“Are you sure about that, my little fox?” He flexes his thigh under you, pushing it up more against your core.
“Uh-huh.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. He takes the opportunity to get back to sucking on your breasts, which only makes your movements more frantic.
“Come on, baby, tell me how good I am and I’ll help you.” He gasps between kisses. You tug on his hair, almost bouncing on his thigh now. “Why don’t you beg for it, pup?”
“Unbelievable.” He growls, pulling your head down. “You’re still so prideful even as you hump my leg like bitch.”
Whatever stinging remark you would’ve hurled at him is muffled against his lips as he pulls you into a hungry kiss. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, taking him in and caressing it with your own before you put your hands to his chest and push him back.
“You really want it? Want me to say how good you are for me? How wet you make me?"
He nods eagerly.
“What a sweet pup.” You praise, “Striving so hard to please me. You’re doing so well, baby. You’ll make me cum real soon.”
“Do it, please. I wanna see what you look like cumming up close.”
“Keep tensing your leg like that and you’ll have me cumming in no time, puppy.” You bite your lip, small but needy moans flowing out of you. “What a good boy you are, so good.”
“Please,” He whispers, his hands helping you move faster on his thigh. “Please, please.”
“So close---ah---oh god, so close...baby!” You gasp, grabbing onto him tightly as you finally cum, the orgasm surprisingly potent. He beams up at you, soaking up every little moan and shudder you let out. “So pretty.”
Gradually, your panting breaths turn into airy giggles as you get down from your high. You give his lips a peck before your hands fall between you and starts pulling his dick out from his sweatpants. You grin against his lips, feeling giddy. "I can’t believe I’m gonna let you fuck me in your studio. How cliche.”
His answering chuckles are punctuated with little moans as you glide your hand up and down his hard dick. “If it--ahh-- makes you feel any better, t-this is the--ahh, yeah like that, baby-- the first time I fuck anyone here.”
You giggles increase in pitch, “You’re so full of shit, Chan.”
“I’m serious.” He whines, leaning up into your touch as you swipe your palm over the leaking head of his cock. “This is kind of a... sacred place for me."
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, “It can’t be that special if you’re here with me now.”
“It is.” He insists with a pout, and continues casually as if it was nothing, “Because you’re special.”
Your hand stills on his cock, your face turning to stone as you try and make sense of what he just said. He's messing with you. He has to be.
Fear and uncertainty makes your stomach churn and your skin loses all color, your face getting cold and sweaty as the bile rises up in your throat. You thought you could handle this but you can’t. You’re too much of a coward to risk it and your sense of self-preservation rears its deformed head once again.
Standing up abruptly, you croak through your suddenly dry mouth, "I think I’m gonna go. I need to lie down"
Chan gets up too, not letting you go. "Oh, is everything okay? Are you sick?".
"I’m fine. I’m just..." You explain weakly, wriggling yourself out of his grip as quickly as you can in your intoxicated state. "I gotta go."
“Hey, wait!” Chan calls after you, but doesn’t try to stop you. You hear him curse out just before you get out of earshot.
____________________
You wake up with a huge headache and an even bigger feeling of dread. The events of last night coming back like a bullet shot through your chest, and you’re even more confused now with the hangover shattering any hope of a coherent thought forming in your head.
You stumble out of bed and head to the door, resolving to get some water and some painkiller so you’d maybe start to feel like your head wasn’t likely to explode at any moment. But as you slide the door open, you hear bickering voices just outside in the living room.
"Chan, what the hell are you doing man?" You hear a familiar voice ask but your brain is too scattered to pinpoint the owner of it right now. Luckily, you don’t need to as Chan speaks up in reply, "It's fine, Jisung. It’s all under control."
"No, it's not. Isn’t that what you used to tell me? That no matter how much she makes it seem like she cares, she could flip the table on me at any moment and that I shouldn’t trust her. That’s what you said!”
You quickly pick up that they’re talking about you despite how much you don’t want to believe it. But that’s the kind of language that has always been directed at you, there is no mistaking it. Yet, against all reason, you hope it’s not true. Or at least, you hope Chan would deny it.
He doesn’t, of course. They never do.
“I know what I said!”
“And? Do you trust her now?” Jisung asks incredulously.
“Of course not.” Chan vehemently denies, the resoluteness in his voice piercing straight through your heart.
Of course not. Of course he doesn’t trust you. What a ridiculous question.
“Jisung is right, Chan.” A new voice adds and you focus on the sound of it, trying not to break down just yet. “You’re letting her sleep under your roof, man, and you didn’t even think to tell us. Has she been messing with your head?”
They are talking about you like you are some kind of monster, some wild beast that would pounce on you the second you turned your back to it. You’d find it amusing coming from anyone else, but not from Chan, because for once in your life you wanted to believe that someone could see you as something other than what the world thought you were. You blame yourself for this one.
“My head is fine.” Chan retorts angrily, letting out a forced sigh. “I’m just.... She was in trouble and I had to help her.”
“Oh, you had to?” The new guy interjects mockingly, “Tell me, would she have helped you if you were in her position?”
“That’s irrelevant.” Chan protests.
“No, it’s not. She would’ve let you suffer and laughed about it. She’s bad news, man.”
“I think you guys are being a little harsh.” Another voice speaks up, deeper than the rest. “Maybe she’s not as bad as you think. I’m sure Chan has a good reason for trusting her.”
“Yeah, I’m sure his dick does.” Jisung scoffs, “You know, I can’t believe you’d do this after preaching to me for hours about how I need to stay away from her and how stupid I am for letting her get to me. But hey, I’m just a stupid squirrel hybrid, right?”
You’ve heard enough. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you plaster a smile on your face and step into the living room, the four boys’ head snapping around to look at you.
“Chan, you didn’t tell me we had guests.” You ponder theatrically, ignoring Chan’s dismayed exclamation of your name. "Oh hey, Sungie. I knew you'd be back for more." You wink at him and he immediately ducks behind the dark-haired stranger.
“Please go back to your room.” Chan asks, equal measure pale and tense.
“But aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Your eyes flit over the three guys, stopping when you get to the blonde, freckled one. “Especially this one. What’s your name, pretty boy?”
The boy blushes at the unexpected flirtation but extends his hand out to you nonetheless. "I'm Felix." He greets you unexpectedly cheerily, and you’re even more surprised to find out that he’s the one with the deep voice.
But before you can take his hand, Chan steps between the two of you.
"I need to talk to you." He grits, pulling you to your room and shutting the door behind you. “What are you doing?”
You shrug, feigning ignorance. “Saying hi to the guests?”
“Now is not the time for your games.” Chan rakes his hand through his hair, stressed out, but you keep up your innocent facade and he sighs in defeat. “You know what? Just stay in your room until they leave and then we’ll talk.”
“No, we’ll talk now. Are you ashamed of me or something?" You wonder, cocking your head to the side. “I thought you said I was special to you? But apparently you say a lot of things.”
“Baby--”
“Why, Chan?” You finally let your facade drop, letting the full extent of your disappointment and sadness break through. “If you don’t want me here then why did you offer in the first place?”
“I do want you here. I just wasn’t planning on anyone finding out about this.”
You laugh in disdain, “How do you always know what to say, Chan?”
“I’m sorry but you have to realize how bad this looks for me. I worked fucking hard to get to where I am today. There are so many people waiting for me to make the slightest mistake so they can watch me fall. And here you are… well, you don’t exactly have the best reputation. If people find out about us then--”
“Wow, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” You bite, venom lacing your every word.
He laughs cruelly. “Oh, yes, and the judgement comes out. You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You can judge everyone and treat them like shit, but as soon as someone does the same to you you’re suddenly the poor misunderstood victim that everyone bullies.”
You reel back at the harshness of his tone and words. He’s never spoken to you like that before, no matter how much he was upset at you. It was jarring. “Stop it.”
“Why? It’s what you’re best at, darling.” He sneers, continuing to ruthlessly attack you. “You judged me before you even knew me and went about treating me like a feeble predator because that’s what you decided that I am. And now you want me to take responsibility for your actions and stand up for you when other people treat you the way you’ve been treating them? But here’s the thing, baby; maybe if you had actually been a decent person and treated others with respect, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Hell if you'd been a decent person, you wouldn't be having such a hard time anywhere, not with me, not with school, not--"
"No, fuck you, chan. Don't you dare tell me this is all my fault. You know nothing about my life! I can't believe I actually--never mind.”
“No say it. You actually what? Liked me? Cared for me? Don’t make me laugh, fox. You don't give a shit about me. Every time I try to get close to you, you pull back like I make you sick. If it weren’t for me offering you a place to stay, you wouldn’t even be talking to me right now. You only care now because I have something to give you, but the second you’re done with me, you’ll throw me in the trash like you do everyone else. And I’m not going to sacrifice all that I’ve worked for to entertain you until you’re bored.”
“You may be right. I may be as awful as you all say I am.” You smile, tears falling down your face. “But at least I'm honest with myself. You on the other hand? Under all your pretense, you're just as fucked up as I am. And one day, everyone will see you for how ugly you really are. ”
_______________________________
A/N: sorry guys she (me) had to do it to you. leave your feedback uwu
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