#but otherwise this movie is so fucking full of love and kindness and second chances and how fucking good queer folks and poc are
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Now that Ghibli's new movie is coming out soon, I've been thinking about anime films and wanna talk about my favorite animated movie ever, Tokyo Godfathers.
TG is a 2003 tragicomedy by Satoshi Kon, following three unhoused people––an alcoholic, a runaway girl, an a trans woman––who find a baby in a dumpster and set off across Tokyo to reunite her with her parents.
If you like the sound of that, go watch it because the rest of this post is spoilers and I have FEELINGS about this movie.
URGHH, the fact that only two moments of true kindness, generosity, and care given to the three protagonists without any expectation of reciprocity are given by a Latin-American immigrant couple and a drag show club full of trans women. The fact that, despite her loud and dramatic personality, Hana is the glue that holds the team together and the heart of the whole movie. The fact that this movie pulls no punches at showing the violence and inhumanity committed by "civilized Japanese society" against the unhoused. The fact that Miyuki craves to be loved by her parents and ends up seeing Hana as her true mother. The fact that Miyuki starts off accidentally using transphobic language against Hana, but slowly begins calling her "Miss Hana" out of respect. The fact that, according to Kon, Hana's role in the story is as a mythological trickster god and "disturb the morality and order of society, but also play a role in revitalizing culture." The fact that Hana so desperately wants to be part of a true family, yet is willing to sacrifice her found family so they can be with their own, and is rewarded for her good deeds in the end by becoming a godmother. The fact that, throughout the movie, wind and light have been used to signify the presence of god's hand/influence (this movie's about nondenominational faith––faith in yourself, faith in others, faith in a higher power. Lots of religious are referenced, such as Buddhism/Hinduism, Christianity, and Shintoism), and in the climax of the film, as Hana jumps off a building to save a baby that isn't hers, a gust of wind and a shower of light save her from death. The fact that god saves a trans woman's life because she proved herself a mother, and that shit makes me CRY.
#ramblings#long post#not art#personal#it's the ultimate found family movie#not without its problems. i really dont like its depiction of mental health#for a movie that does an otherwise great job spotlighting the unhoused crisis in japan and its society's oppressive distain towards women#and queer people. it really drops the ball on depicting one of the biggest contributors to the crisis#but otherwise this movie is so fucking full of love and kindness and second chances and how fucking good queer folks and poc are#it blows my mind that this film came out in 2003 and the main protagonist is a trans woman who's just the fucking best#the recent gkids dub is REALLY good by the way! they got shakina nayfack; a trans va; to voice Hana!#the dub made great strides to undo a lot of the original misgendering and mistranslations#also its a christmas movie#also the ost was done by the band that did earthbound's ost
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scott pilgrim vs the canon
boy you better have this tagged against spoilers because otherwise this is going to ruin a lot of stuff. all im going to say is, this show cannot be watched without having read the comic first so. keep that in mind.
scott pilgrim was the seminal work of my generation, it was the thing that defined us and the internet to a large extent after it came out in full back in 2010. now we are all here back again, in our late 20's, 30's and even 40's to take a second look at this franchise after everything that has been going on.
and this franchise had things to say.
i went in expecting scott pilgrim the comic, this time more lavishly (and faithfully) adapted than the movie could have ever been. suffice to say i was not dissapointed at all because i didnt get that in any way what so ever.
this is in some senses the modern cannibals of the scott pilgrim franchise, perhaps less cynical and bitter. this is an examination of this story from a slightly askew angle. this is a what if that takes itself to another level.
those who say that this "feels like fan fic" are half right, but if so i want to see what fan fics they are reading because i never saw a fanfic that take the world and its characters so wildly out of context, put them in outrageos new situations they would have never been in, do some genuine crack slash ships and yet still feel so genuine, so true to the original. just because none of what is happening here happened in the comic that doesnt mean these arent the characters we know and love and that this isnt the world and the mood and the vibe that that we all grew up with.
the brian lee o malley style is so incredibly hard to capture. its this wonderful mix of over the top anime/cartoony action mixed with incredibly grounded, down to earth, super chill vibe. we've seen the wonders that came out during the 2010's made by other artists inspired by it or directly trying to emulate it, and yet none of them were able to capture it quite right and this show is the bona fide real deal. it made me remember why scott pilgrim captured me so much back when i read it as a teenager, its a mood impossible to reproduce and yet reproduced all the same here in this show.
wonderful.
the animation is of course out of this world. the voice acting could do some work but im willing to let it slide considering that they went with the original cast from the movie.
this story feels almost like an answer to the observation many people made at the end of the comic and specially the end of the movie. that scott and ramona were obviously not meant to last. that they were still too young and too messed up as people and the relationship was probably going to end badly. the show examines all that with raw honestly and concludes at the end that, sure, maybe this is not going to work out. but that doesnt mean they shouldnt give it their best shot.
as i said at the beggining, this has to be understood as an addenum to the comic. it starts as an adaptation, it lulls you into thinking its a wacky what if and ends up being a covert sequel. with that in mind, this show understands that you already understand and know who scott is and what his deal is, so it chooses to focus squarely on ramona and the exes, and let me just say. the exes are the fucking break out stars of this show. i love every single one of them. the fact that each of them get their own little mini arc and a chance to either redeem or at the very least become genuenly sympathetic was absolutely brilliant. these guys are amazing.
this story in general just presents such a feel good, likeable, chill athmosfere, where even villains who seemed irredeemable can still have just a calm conversation with the hero and just chat for a while. share a coffee, wind down.
if i had one single complaint at all is that i was a little sad by the implication that scott wont learn his lesson at the end of the original story and will continue to be kind of a clueless immature douche. but it is tempered by the fact that this story still has a lot of sympathy for young scott and it makes the case that the guy still very much deserves a chance.
so yeah
loved it, great work, it tried to do something super weird and it somehow succeeded. good job 9/10
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Doc's Big Labor Day Sale
Hello and welcome worthy friends! Celebrate your own labor by purchasing mine! As many of you know, I recently was given a chance to go on a vacation I can't otherwise afford. Jill's moving off emergency in October, and while we will absolutely be fine, and she very very much needs to, we won't have as much cash rolling in as before, and so if I want to A) buy myself some things for the trip and B) pay for some meals and maybe even a hotel night, so as not to be a complete fucking mooch, I need to raise the cash! (The Patreon will pause in December)
This is where you come in! I have nice things below that you may want to buy, things that come up in limited quantities when available and that I have moved my schedule around to accommodate.
For everything:
First come, first served! First in my inbox, first to claim. If you're second, I will keep you on hold in case person one does not pay. (I'll tell you of course)
I do NOT have to like the item. If we want me to read something and do a positive only review…I mean I guess it’s not OFF the table, but the price would be highly variable and that would be something we’d want to discuss privately before any money changed hands. Not relevant to this moment. Also, this is not a space for Holligay Hates stuff where I'm intentionally being baited, and if I feel I'm being baited I reserve the right to call it off. (Though I am possibly open to that kind of work? We'd have to talk price though it can be emotionally exhausting)
What lovely things can you purchase? And what will I be getting with these fine moneys?
A book review (Delivered in September)SOLD : $85, includes full reading of any book up to 500 pages (longer than that isn’t off limits, just come talk to me) and a 2,000 word at least review of the book. You are absolutely allowed and encouraged to send me questions you’d like me address in the review, or themes you’d like me to touch on. Not a requirement though!
I have the right to veto a book and refund you, but, I’m actually not sure what that would be, in fairness. I just want to put out there I have the right to do it.
Must be available in physical form. (Though ironically I’m doing this to buy a kobo because I think I might like it? Maybe? I don’t know, in any case it would be helpful for travel)
Payment must be made within 2 days of us closing the deal. I'll contact you, I have a couple of ways to pay
What am I getting with this commission? I need a small purse to carry around (Because I'm going to need an umbrella in the UK in winter) Here's what I'm looking at getting!
A weekend of liveblog SOLD (September 23-24): $230, This is exactly what it sounds like, two days in a row of four hours of liveblog! A great idea if you want to do a whole opening episode of an anime or continue something that I've done in the past!
I am open to doing almost anything, but as with everything, I have the right to veto the show you would like to do. If you have something you think might be a little odd, you can always talk to me! I don't get mad about saying no, as long as you're fine with knowing it's a possibility.
What I'm looking to buy with this: I would really like a pair of heeled tie shoes! I have a couple different options but this so far is my top pick, a very nice set of leather shoes that I will be able to wear for years.
Movie Review SOLD: (Delivered in September) $120, a review of any movie up to 2 hours 10 minutes. Longer movies are not off the table but will cost. My process for this is very long; details at the top of this review
But if you want to get my eyes on a movie you would really like to watch me analyze, boy is this the way to do it! I always reserve the right to veto, but there's very little I would veto.
What I will buy with this:
I am very grateful to my mother but also feel like a little bit of a loser, so we're going to go to York and I want to treat her to a true tapas meal, which she's never had before! She'll fucking love it, and this will provide us with a really nice meal and "service charge."
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Hi!!!!!!! I have a request for you😋
Its something to do with the recent Chris and Lizzo interaction(no hate to her). Can you write something about their recent interaction, like chris and lizzo talking about the baby joke and the internet goes nuts. But what chris doesn't know is that his girlfriend feels hurt, that he is disregarding her feelings, like its kind of humiliating to the reader, that chris her boyfriend is talking about baby with other person when he has his own girlfriend and she is hurt by him. She confronts Chris but he just gets mad and calls her jealous and insecure, which hurts her further and she just gets mad and leaves his house. Later when Chris mom sees the news she scolds him about joking of having a baby with someone else and hurting his partner then he understands how his girlfriend must have felt and they recincile. I hope you're getting what i m saying sorry if it sounds confusing, but can you write it? 🤗
Facing Realities (C.E)
A/N: Thank you so much lovely and I loved the plot line. I loved writing about it and I made a few additions to the story. Hope you like it and I am open to more requests.
Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fanfiction Master List)
Summary: You feel unimportant when Chris can easily discuss about having a child with Lizzo in public but will always dismiss you when you bring up the topic. Getting in to a fight, you leave him and he eventually realises his mistake because of his mom.
Warnings: Angst but eventual fluff.
._._._._.
“The fans want to know about the Instagram dms between the two of you.” The reported quizzed Lizzo and Chris as they both sat in front of him on the couch.
“Well, our baby is going to be the best.” Lizzo spoke with amusement clear in her eyes.
“The world is going to have a little Captain America at their hands soon, right Lizzo?” Chris chuckled.
“Right. And how is your new movie coming along?” The interviewer started asking different questions and soon it was all over.
“Will see you soon Cap. Say hi to (Y/N) for me.” With a quick hug, she left the studio with her usual power walk. Chris just shook his head slightly when he heard all the fans asking her about the baby. They were all truly something and Lizzo just went through them without giving a response.
You didn’t have anything against Lizzo because you knew that everything between her and Chris was platonic. The fact that Chris was so open to discuss about having a baby was what bothered you. He always dismiss you when you wanted to talk about your future and extending your family. It felt like you were the only one in this world that Chris did not want to talk to regarding this topic. This made you feel worthless and pathetic.
You knew that jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe your emotions right now but that’s what it felt like. Confronting people was never your thing and you always did what they asked instead of arguing. It was much easier but you knew that you couldn’t get away with this. This was in regards to your future and so when Chris was going to come home from his interview, you were going to talk to him about it.
“Honey, I am home.” Losing his jacket on the love seat, he made his way towards the kitchen because it was dinner time and he could smell the delicious food from the hallway.
“Hi babe. I am making your favorite. Just go and freshen up.” You stated not turning back because you knew you would break the instant your eyes landed on your boyfriend.
He came to the dining table in his sweats and dived into the food immediately because he was starving. “So…” You tried starting up a conversation but backed down when you saw his questioning gaze trained on you. “Um how was the interview?”
“It was nice. Lizzo and I talked about the baby. God, I just love that woman.” The self doubt in your mind was growing by the minute because he was casually talking about a baby with another woman. He didn’t realise that he was hurting your feelings and he just kept on talking about how amazing it would be to actually have a baby with Lizzo.
“So have you ever thought about extending our family?” You finally mustered up some courage to ask him the question.
“No, I haven’t. We can talk about it another time. So what did you today?” The dismissal in his tone was enough to break your heart into tiny pieces.
“But we have too, Chris. We have been in a relationship for the past three years.”
“I do not want to discuss it today so just drop it (Y/N).” The stern look would have made you back down in a normal situation but not today.
Dropping your fork on the plate, you spoke with irritation, “You never want to have this discussion with me but you would gladly do it with Lizzo.”
“I knew it had something to do with her. Why are you so jealous?”
“I am not jealous. It’s just that you are willing to discuss about your baby with everyone except me.”
“There is nothing going on between Lizzo and I, if that’s what you mean.”
“I know that. I just want to know if you have ever thought about having kids with me or am I just a fling to you?” You we’re absolutely done with him at this point and you dreaded his answer.
“(Y/N), I have told you a million times that you are not a fling. What are you on about?”
“It just seems that I am no longer the person that you want to discuss things with. It’s just not about the whole kid thing but you didn’t even tell me that you are starting in a new movie. I had to find it from the fucking paparazzi.”
“I was going to tell you and I am just not ready for a family yet.”
“Well instead of ignoring me every chance you got, you could have told me about it.” The frustration in your eyes was clear but Chris chose to ignore it. It was as if he was totally immune to all of your emotions.
Whenever the topic of children came up, Chris didn’t tinker why he acted like a jerk. He had always thought about expanding his family but when you came in to the picture, he was so terrified of losing you that he couldn’t even think what a baby would do to your relationship.
“I am not good with all this and you need to be patient with me.”
“All I have ever been is patient for you. Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Sudden realization dawned upon him and he was left speechless.
“I need a break from you. Call me when you figure everything out.”
“(Y/N), you are doing this because of Lizzo. Stop acting like an insecure and jealous bit-” Stopping mid sentence, he looked at you in horror.
Tears sprang in your already damp eyes, “Why are you stopping now? Finish the sentence, Chris.”
“(Y/N), I-”
“Good bye, Chris.” Walking out of your once shared home was the most difficult thing that you had to do in this life but there was no other choice. You both were at an impasse and you needed time to sort it all out. Hailing a taxi, you went to your friend, Scarlett’s house. She was a mutual frond of you both but she had become your best friend in the past three years.
Meanwhile, Chris downed a whole bottle of scotch and sat in your shared bedroom with your picture in his hand. He didn’t want to lose you to a stupid argument but he failed to see that he was at fault. Sleeping without you proved as a heinous task and he gave up after two hours. He just sat in the bed alone and hoped to God that you will come back to him. A life without you wasn’t a life at all. However, Chris would not be the one to apologise because in his opinion, he didn’t do anything wrong.
The passing few days, you absolutely refused to get out of the house and stayed holed up in Scarlett’s guest bedroom. “(Y/N), you need to eat something.” Your friend barged in with a tray full of food and you instantly felt nauseous.
“Not in the mood, Scar.” Your eyes had been red and puffy for the last week but you didn’t care. Chris was the only one that you cared about. However, you could not be in a relationship that had no future. You deserved better than that.
“You need to eat and get out of this mood. It’s making me depressed.”
“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Snapping at her was never your intention and you instantly regretted it. “I am sorry. I am just not in the right frame of mind.”
“It’s okay. You want to watch something.”
“Yeah, F.R.I.E.N.D.S.”
Chris was no better than you or maybe even worse. He hadn’t changed out of his sweats for the past two days and had a slight scruff covering his face. Empty bottles of alcohol laid around the whole house and rotten food was placed on the kitchen counter. The whole house was a mess and he didn’t care about anything. Except you. Everything in this house reminded him of you and he hated it. From the bedroom walls to the well groomed garden.
The phone rang for the millionth time and he picked it up from the nightstand. It was his mom. Sighing, he finally picked it up. “Christopher Robert Evans, where the hell have you been?”
“I was at home, mom.” The loose thread on your pillowcase suddenly seemed more interesting than the phone conversation.
“With (Y/N)?”
“She left me, mom.” Chris didn’t want to talk about it but he figured that his mom wouldn’t leave him alone otherwise.
“Serves you right. You left her no other choice.”
“How can you say that? I haven’t done anything.”
“I saw the interview, Chris. Have you ever talked with (Y/N) about extending your family?”
“No but I was just joking with Lizzo.”
“It doesn’t matter. She would have felt unimportant because this is a very private matter and she was not a part of it.”
“But-”
“Imagine if the roles were reversed.” Realisation dawned upon him and he quickly said goodbye to his mother because he had a girlfriend to win back. Every second spent without you was agonizing and he never wants to experience it.
“(Y/N), Chris is here to see you.” Peeking her head through the door, Scarlett informed you about your boyfriend. You quickly untangled yourself from the sheets and ran to the washroom. You wanted to look presentable but Chris could see the dark circles under your eyes and your thin figure. There was a sudden pang in his heart because he knew this was all his doing.
“I am sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have said anything. I am a fool. Please forgive me.” He started ranting as soon as Scar left the room.
“Chris, have you thought about what I said?” Your calm aura was scaring his wits so he quickly answered with a yes. “Please elaborate.”
“I have realised that I was at fault and I am going to be more open about the future of our relationship from now on.” The sincere look in his eyes was hard to miss.
“Promise?” Gone was the calm and collected exterior, and stood before him was a vulnerable young woman.
“I promise, baby. Now, will you come back home? I have missed you.”
“Yes and I missed you too.” Kissing him on the lips, you sighed because this was your heaven and you wouldn’t want to leave it for the world.
Hope you guys enjoyed it!!
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A/N: I love Chris Evansand I was happy to write a fanfiction about him. If you guys have any more request, I will be happy to write about them and message me if you want to be added to the tag list.
Taglist: @justile
Like, comment and reblog.
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#rachelleblodgettwrites#my writing#wattpad#tv shows#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#dad chris evans#chris evans x female reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans x reader#chris evans fluff#chris evans fic#chris evans x wife!reader#chris evans drabble#the avengers#marvel#andy barber x wife reader#andy barber x reader#steve rogers angst#black widow#scarlett johanssan#natasha romanoff#my imagination
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L.A. Confidential- l.r.h
CONTAINTS SMUT
Word Count: 1876
“My girl might leave me if she hears about this..” That Aussie accent mumbled under his breath as you left marks down his neck in a heated session behind his hotel door. You wouldn’t dare say a word as long as is hands would continue lingering on your skin every other night.
“She won’t,” you told him as he unzipped the back of your dress.
Your eyes blinked as you came out of your daydream from only a few nights prior. You stood in line at the red carpet waiting to take pictures of the band of 5 Seconds of Summer. You had began a job of being a professional photographer for popular bands or singers like them and it paid well. The only downfall was the fact that you had fell head over heels for the front man who also had a girlfriend.
Luke Hemmings was all around perfect, especially in your eyes. The way he laughed at your jokes in order for you to take a good picture of him just made your heart stop. His eyes had always lingered on you whenever you were in close perimeter. His girlfriend, Chloe, was a stunning blonde with tan skin and a perfect white smile. She was drop dead gorgeous, but Luke just couldn’t help himself when it came to you. You weren’t famous, only the people in your pictures were, but to Luke you were something else.
As soon as the boys stepped out into the light, Luke’s blue hues scanned the crowd in front of him in search of your beautiful form. You had always surprised him with the dresses and outfits you pulled off at the red carpet walks, interviews, or photo shoots. Tonight; however, you had decided on tight leather pants and an off the shoulder white blouse which had paired with your skin tone perfectly. The shoes you wore had really thrown him off. They were thick, black stilettos that crossed over your feet and allowed for your hot pink painted nails to be shown off. Luke had always been a fan of how you highlighted the best features of yourself. That’s exactly when he decided on how he was going to fuck you senseless over the-
“Luke! Luke, over here!” The paparazzi screamed over the flashes of cameras from every direction. The only camera he looked at was yours.
*
“Well, that was a crazy crowd, Jesus.” Calum said while stripping himself of his suit jacket and plopped himself in the couch of your hotel room.
“Yeah, well the afterparty is going to be worse.” Ashton breathed out as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt. You had your laptop out at the desk with the memory card inside it, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures you took for the night in order to send them to management for the band.
They had officially hired you for the full time job for their photographer early last year so, you had made it your full duty to make sure they got the best pictures and publicity you could. Ever since you got the job, the guys instantly made you feel like you were a part of a family. They were your best friends and you couldn’t be any happier.
“Crystal and I are going out for dinner tonight.” Mikey said as he fixed his hair in the mirror. “And no, I’m not skipping.” He adds before his friends could convince him otherwise.
Luke took this as his chance to speak up. “Yeah, I’m going to skip out on the afterparty, too. I haven’t gotten that much sleep lately.” Your eyes dart over to the blonde just to see that he was already staring back at you. A blush made its way to your cheeks as you turned back to your computer.
Calum and Ashton rolled their eyes. “Guess it’s just you and I tonight.” Calum said with a sigh.
“Alright, well we’re gonna head out then.” Ashton announces before ushering Cal out the hotel door. Mikey bids his goodbye as well before he’s out the door as well.
Arms reached around the back of the chair, wrapping themselves around your shoulders as lips pressed against your jaw. “Real smooth.” You joked and closed your laptop before sliding around the chair and standing to your feet. You were then pushed back down, but against the bed this time and a gasp left your lips. Luke was smirking down at your vulnerable form while your elbows were the only thing giving you some sort of angle to look at him better. You stared up at him through thick lashes innocently, waiting for him to do something. His hands ached to touch you through those leather pants, he just didn’t know what he was going to do yet.
Instead of waiting on him, your hand reached out to grab his own and placed it over the leather material between your legs. Luke’s body shuddered with pure excitement as he lowered himself over you against the bed. An elbow plopped down beside your head as a hand stroked your (h/c) hair out of your face. His eyes bored into yours and for a second, your heart beat changed pattern. You had silently hoped that his did the same as you smiled up at him. The smile that got him weak in the knees, which led to his next step of pressing his lips against yours.
You could feel him growing hard against you as he pushed himself farther against you. Luke pulled away from your lips only to leave kisses down your jawline. There was something about the way he was acting tonight that was different than any other night. Instead of dwelling of the thought, you cleared your throat.
“Is something wrong?” You question while running a hand through your hair.
“You know I got somebody so I can’t fuck with just anybody.” Luke mumbles next to your ear which causes your cheeks to heat up. What is he saying? “But sometimes I get lonely.”
You’ve heard those words before, and it only made you angry. It meant that he and his girlfriend had been arguing. She might’ve been pretty, but she was manipulative and often left Luke a drunk mess, but ever since he met you, he hasn’t touched a drop. You were his distraction, and he loved it. He loved how you made him feel important, and needed. Chloe was independent and would rather spend her time with friends at the club than to have a night inside in bed next to Luke with a movie playing, or to go out to dinner.
“Lu, you know you can always come to me.” You soothed. Although it made you guilty that he was cheating on his girlfriend, you were also glad because there had been so many rumors about her cheating that you’d believe it. He kissed your lips in response and lost himself against you. In that moment, you cupped his face in your hand and flipped so that you were now straddling his waist. In a swift movement, he pulled the blouse you wore over your head and to the floor. A grin took over the frown on his face as his hands roamed over your curves.
Your hands reached down and began unbuttoning his dress shirt as well as his pants while he shuddered under your touch. A hand reached behind and groped your rear, pulling you against the hard body beneath you. “Hold up.” Luke says while pushing you up to a standing position. He then curled his fingers on the inside of your leather pants and yanked them down your legs. A blush made its way to your face as you laughed. Luke then lifted you from the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist before putting you on your back. He fit in between your legs perfectly. You reached a hand down in between you and pulled his pants down just enough down his legs as he moves the lace covering you to the side.
Kissing him, you muffled the sounds of your moan as he pulls himself out of his boxers and enters you. He pulled away and placed his forehead against your own, looking in your eyes. “Fuck, Luke.” You breathed out while looking down between your bodies as he pumped in and out of you. His white teeth shined down at you as he grinned. With a swift movement, he wrapped his arms around your torso and flipped so that you were now on top of him.
“Ride me, (y/n).”
You did as told, wincing as his nails dug into your hips. It hurt, but you loved it. He knew how he made you feel while he fucked you senseless. Speaking of, he reminded himself what went through his head at the red carpet. Before he could get too close, he quickly pulled out of you. “Lay over the desk in front of the mirror.” He demanded. This excited you, so you hurried over to the spot he told you to. Grabbing the edge of the table, you tilted your head to the side in order to look at him.
“Like this?” You asked, but he shook his head. He entered you again causing a gasp to escape your lips. Luke reached around your head and wrapped a hand around your throat, forcing you to look in the mirror.
“Like this, I want you to watch me fuck you senseless.”
“O-Okay.” You stuttered, unable to contain yourself as the feel of his hand around your throat caused a different kind of feeling in the pit of your stomach.
He then began to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace as the desk bumped against the wall repeatedly. There was sure to be a noise complaint. And thank god the rest of the band decided to go out for the night. Your climax began to draw closer as he drilled into you.
“Are you close?” He asked, getting close as well. You nodded, unable to form words as he watched you in the mirror. “I wanna hear you scream, baby.”
“Fuck, Lu.” You cursed while adjusting yourself as the desk dug into your skin.
“Louder, I want everyone in the hotel to hear you scream my name.”
“What about-”
“(y/n).” He warned. You were nearly tipped over the edge as his hand tightened around your neck and your stomach flipped.
“Luke!” Your strangled voice screamed nearly at the top of your lungs as the two of you came together, him filling you up. After a few seconds, he let you relax before pulling out of you to get stuff to clean up. He disappeared in the bathroom, and soon came back to help you clean up. Leaning against the desk, you watched as he wiped the liquid from your skin.
“We’re gonna have to go to the pharmacy before they close.” You mumbled embarrassingly. You often had to make a trip there in order to get plan b.
“I know, why do you think I got out clothes for you to change into?” Looking over, you saw a small pile of folded clothes which belonged to him causing your heart to melt.
“Thank you.”
“You know, I can’t leave her right?”
Frowning, you nodded. “I know.”
“L.A Confidential.”
You nodded again and sighed. “L.A. Confidential.”
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Where the heart is // B. B.
Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)
TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.
A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately.
Waking up from this nightmare
How's your life, what's it like there?
Is it all what you want it to be?
Does it hurt when you think about me?
And how broken my heart is
The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.
People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.
There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.
There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.
When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.
“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”
“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“
“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “
She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.
“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.
“ If that’s okay with you.”
“ sure. “
The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”
They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.
He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.
Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.
There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.
She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.
“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.
She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.
“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “
His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.
Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.
“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.
There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.
He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.
“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “
He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.
“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “
She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.
“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.”
“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”
Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?
She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.
“ Sure, I guess. I — yeah.”
She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.
He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.
She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.
There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.
“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “
He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.
Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.
“ I have — I have no idea. “ he has to confess.
“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.
“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”
“ Oh god! That was terrible. “
“ It was.”
She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.
“ What are you thinking about? “
He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?
“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “
It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.
“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.
Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.
“ Nothing. “
“ Hm? “
“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “
She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.
It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.
“ Our first picture with Alpine. “
“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.
He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.
“ Was worth it though! “
Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “
“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”
“ He’s our cat.” he points out.
“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”
It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.
“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “
“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “
There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.
“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.
“ Is that from the —”
“ The tattoo place, yeah. “
The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.
“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.
“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “
Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “
“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.
“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.
“ You were the best boyfriend. “
“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “
She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.
“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “
It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.
Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.
“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “
“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.
But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.
“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “
She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.
“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.
“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.
“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “
“ I didn’t give up. “
“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “
“ You agreed! “
“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”
Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.
“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “
“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken. “
He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.
Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.
“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “
She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.
“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “
“ I miss you Bucky. “
“ I miss you too. “
“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”
“ Even without the babies? “
“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”
“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.
Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.
“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “
“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “
She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.
He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.
“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “
“ I think you might be right. “
And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.
“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “
“ You’ll look gorgeous.”
And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.
There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.
They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.
And forever.
#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#Bucky Barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfiction#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x female!reader
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Hello I'm light anon and i bring you the first chapter of an au i started awhile ago with the help of Ender anon (hi love you/p) , the supernatural au named Abnormalities and its very long
Abnormalities
Chapter One - Phasmophobia 2.5k words
:readmore:
“Prove it then.”
Of course, Sap and Dream’s arguments always lead to some sort of challenge. Ever since you met them in middle school, it’s been like that. Sap would say something, Dream would fire back because Sap was clearly wrong in his eyes, and it would spiral from there. Today’s topic of debate: The existence of the paranormal. Specifically, ghosts.
What sparked it? A cheesy horror film you picked out for the monthly movie night. Your stereotypical ghost film with lazy jump scares with bad effects and acting.you only bought it so you four could laugh at it. You Guys laud sprawled on the couch while Sap took up the floor. All was well, Until Sap proclaimed that real ghosts wouldn’t be that shitty. Dream, heavily disagreed that ghosts even existed. George didn’t take a side but you backed Sap up. The world is to weird not to have ghosts in it.
”Oh absolutely.” Sap nodded, agreeing with your assessment.
Dream rolled his eyes “Sure, sure, just how are you going to prove me wrong? There isn’t a ‘haunted building’ anywhere in town.”
At that moment George decided to speak up “What about the old willbeck farm?, the one a couple miles out of town. I always heard it was haunted by a kid or something.”
“That stupid place? Those were just stories are parents told us to keep us from trespassing.”
You shrugged. “It’s a start.”
Next thing you know, you and sap blew your paychecks on ghost hunting equipment. You ordered the basics, an EMF meter, a good camera, a thermometer, you even bought a ‘Spirit box’ and some smudge sticks, all too spite Dream who complained that you were being scammed.
You both ended up begging George to use his car to load up your equipment as he was the only one to have a large enough car for your equipment. He relented after a day of relentless begging.
The Willbeck farm was a 40 minute drive from your home, which left a lot of room for discussion.
“You three are idiots.”
You leaned forward to poke your head over the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You could have stayed back and do boring things like dressing up patches or something.”
He turned his head with narrowed eyes. “And make sure you guys didn’t fake your ‘proof?’ Not a chance.”
You laugh. “You’ll be the first one we feed to the ghosts.”
You bickered back and forth until George announced that they had finally made it. Not even seconds after he pulled into the clearing in front of the property, you and Sap practically kept out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get your gear. After distributing equipment amounts your group you took your first look at the house
The Farmhouse was much larger than you remembered reading about. It was a huge two story red building with a faded white trim. The word around it looked like it had been rotting for years and it definitely smelt like rot. AMany of the windows were broken in, and the glass was a gross brown color. The roof had some holes in it and the gutters had been ripped from the roof and laid scattered around the outside. A large barn was off to the side and had the same kind of wear to it. The entire property was surrounded by a torn up wire fencing, which had a lot of crows perched, eyeing you intensely. The Erie feeling the house gave off was intensified by the soft sound of the wind and the loud crow caws.
If houses had a criteria to be haunted, this one checked off all the boxes
Sap let out a low whistle before lightly nudging your arm “Dude, this place makes your home look tiny!”
You scoffed at that. Sure your rented home was small, but was cheap enough to pay for while you worked your way through community college. A one bedroom, one bath, a combined kitchen/living space, all on top of a double garage was all you needed.
It was a slow walk to the porch, all of you hesitant to actually set foot in the run down building. The steps creaked under you, and the wooden boards sunk slightly. You were at the head of the group, so you were the first one inside, taking a couple steps in the large foyer. It was full of outdated furniture, something you’d see out of the early 90’s. A large staircase sat to the left, hugging the wall as it pushed into the upstairs. There was a door to your right, leading into what you believe was the kitchen.
You held the camera up and you got a good shot of the room, if there were no ghosts you’d at least have some cool photos.
The four of you spread out into the room observing every corner of it. Sapnap was the one armed with the EMF reader. He waved the hand held device trying to get something, anything to read. He did manage to get one, honing onto a stuffed cow that was nestled into the couch.
It was dusty, like everything else in the room. Otherwise it was in semi good condition. It was... cute. Too cute to just be sitting in this old farmhouse for the rest of time. Dream had other opinions.
“That means nothing. It’s just a cow.”
To be fair, it was the first time either of you had used this kind of equipment. You decided to put it in your bag, hoping to study it later. It could be a fluke, but you guys couldn’t bow down now! The hunt has only just begun.
Every room on the first floor was subject to an EMF and Temperature checks. Dream and George fucked around while you and Sap scanned for anything that could be more than a fluke, the only thing that could be found was in the kitchen. A small carved statue of a crow.
It gave off the same readings as the cow plush, so perhaps it wasn’t a fluke. You found it sitting on the open windowsill, it was so life-like you almost mistake it for a living crow. Something was telling you that it was probably the oldest thing in the house. You gently placed it in your bag with the cow, another piece to your growing collection.
You took a moment to glance out the window. There were way too many crows sitting on the wire fence to be normal. It was the beginning of summer, so crows even migrate?
With the first floor cleared, you lead the charge upstairs. The floor boards only got louder with every step. You quietly asked whatever prime deity was watching that neither of your group would fall through the floor. The whole house felt unstable.
The top of the stairs lead you to a Hallway. It was small and only had two doors and at the end of it stood a large magnificent bookshelf.
You took the first door on the left accompanied by George while Sap and Dream opted to poke around in the hallway, formally splitting the group for the first time.
The room wasn’t very Large, nor could you tell what it was supposed to be used for as pretty much everything was covered with sheets of some kind. There were a couple of uncovered boxes laying on top of things, so it wasn’t completely boring. A couple of minutes of scavenging later, George called for your attention.
“Look at this” George presented you a beautiful lute from one of the few uncovered boxes. It was crafted out of a dark wood and had what you thought was engravings of fish along the sides. How old was this thing? Was it even usable?
“Let me see!” You asked, setting down the camera before making a grabby motion towards the lute, which was met with a questioning look from the Brit. “I want to see if it’s in tune.”
He decided that it was a good enough answer before handing over the old thing. You strummed the strings, and it sounded surprisingly good, despite the cloud of dust that came off it. You paused for a brief moment before playing a quick melody, just a song you played back in middle school for a recital. You hummed along until yelps from outside and many thumps.
You quickly set the Lute down and follow George out the door, fearing that something had gotten your two friends. However, instead of a gory mess, you saw Dream standing holding a book, while a whole pile of them at his feet, a few inches away from the bookshelf.
“The shelves just collapsed on themselves.” He quietly said. The look on his face was puzzled, like he was still trying to figure out what had happened.
“Or maybe,” Sap started. “The ghost doesn’t like you touching his stuff.”
“I’m keeping it then, the ghost doesn’t need it.”
“What’s the title of it?” You asked as you fake over to view the damage. Dream opened the book and flipped through it.
“It’s old, There isn’t a title nor is it in English, old English I think.”
What was such an old book doing in a relatively modern house? You shake the thought away and motioned for Dream to give it to you. “I’ll hold onto it, I want to see if I can get it translated.” Another treasure for your growing collection.
You turned back to check on George, he wasn’t next to you, instead he was messing with the final door, seeming to unjam the lock and push into the room. You decided to grab the lute and take it as a keepsake.
Picking it up again made your head feel... loud. You couldn’t tell which thoughts were yours and which were intruding. A pair of eyes were watching you somehow but the room was empty. Panic rose in your chest, your heart was beating so so loud. A cold hand touched your shoulders, yet you couldn’t tell if it meant you harm or not.
“Hey... are you okay?”
And it stopped. Everything was clear again. You turned your head to look back seeing Sap poke his head through the door. “You’ve been standing here for a while.”
You nod, “Yeah yeah... we should- we should stop splitting up.”
You’d only find out later that the Lute has the same effects that the other two objects did.
The house search was a bit of a bust. The only ‘Supernatural’ experience you had was the EMF meter going off and the strange experience with the lute which you opted not to tell your friends about, writing off as the Erie nature of the house getting to you.
Finding nothing else interesting, you took one last look at the entrance room before stepping out. You feel a weird sense of longing, something pulling at you not to go. You tried to shake off the feeling and you walked back to the car, just to put all your goodies away in the trunk.
All that was left on your to-do list was to check the outside area and the barn. Being the person that you are, you went straight to the barn. They boys could handle the rest of the property alone. alone The building had no doors you waltzed right though the entryway. Despite never actually being in a barn, it looked right to you.
It was devoid of any livestock, but there was Hay everywhere. Light shined through the holes in the ceiling, making the room clear enough. The soft blue liquid that was spread across the hay-
Wait. What?
Doing a second take revealed that the whole barn has some weird blue goo smeared everywhere. It looked too Fresh to be painted, it looked wet. There didn’t seem to be a set trail, just pools of it. You found most of it by a ladder that led up to a new section of the barn.
The blue substance was dripping from the loft of the barn.
It had to be.
And you were right! Sort of. Finally dragging yourself up the old latter not really minding the blue that now stained your clothes, you found the source.
He was standing- floating?- there, as if waiting for someone. The man was tall, taller than you or any of their friends, absolutely towering over you. His entire pallet was muted, his skin was fucking Grey. His attire was strange too. Something out of a renaissance fair. What was the strangest was that he was translucent and bleeding? Out of a cut on his chest. That blue substance oozing out of his stomach onto the floor boards.
He smiled.
“You found me, little songbird.”
The temperature drop had you shivering, but that also could have been from the absolute terror of seeing a real ghost.
That loud feeling returned in full force, directing your attention onto him.. You had to go. But it was like you were frozen place. He moved to cup your face, cooing as he looked you over.
“It’s not polite to touch things that aren’t yours, yet you handle them with so much care... I don’t mind.”
He wasn’t acting out of malice, thank prime, but It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He was too close.
“.... pretty songbird. My pretty songbird.”
A beat past before you could hear your friends calling for you. Your head cleared for a moment so you took it and ran. Practically flying down the ladder and hurting yourself in the fall. Ignoring the pain you booked it to the car right past Dream and Sap, who were standing by the entrance to the barn.
“We- We have to go. Now. Please we need to... to...” you couldn’t really tell what you were saying, everything was moving too fast. Great Prime, that was a real ghost. You- You were talking to a ghost. A Ghost called you a Song bird.
A Ghost.
That ended your hunt right there and then. You weren’t in a fit state to keep going. Especially not when you’re covered in... whatever this blue stuff is. You’d come to find later that you had a blue hand print on your face, right where the man had cradled your face.
You’re so out of it, you don’t realize when your friends are guiding you up the stairs to your home. One of them says something about leaving the loot in your garage, but you don’t really care. This is a future problem. You give a small thank you and a swift goodbye before passing out the second you feel your pillow under you.
So deep in sleep you don’t realize that your tiny home has a few new residents wandering about.
Or the fact that one of them watched over you as you slept
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I AM SIMPLY ASHAMED OF HOW LONG IVE BEEN PUTTING THIS OFF IT WAS A CRINE TO NOT LET Y'ALL SEE THIS EARLIER. LIGHT YOU'VE DONE A FANTASTIC JOB AAUAUGGG
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Their Doll 8
Let me in
B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader
series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.
Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing
Chapter Summary: y/n gets emotional
Warnings: swearing, feelings
A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Life at the tower was...tiring, to say the least. During my free time I often found myself in the gym, lobbing knives at a target and trying my hardest not to biting one in Steve's chest every time he would correct my technique. When I wasn't trying to murder the avenger in cold blood, I was usually dragged into things by the other: briefings and debriefing for missions I'd never go on, my dad's parties, group training sessions and study periods with Bruce in his labs to name a few.
But for now, I was huddled in my rooms - fresh out of a hot shower after a brutal two hour training session and four mile run with Natasha - curled up on my bed and attempting to catch up on a few of the films I'd missed. But the exhaustion and drowsiness clouded my eyes, the noise from the TV merely in the background as I felt my eyes growing heavier by the second.
A sharp knock at the door snapped my out of my lowsey state, the people movie across the screen simple a blur of colour as my eyes darted past the tv and over to the door.
"Mr Stark is waiting at your door. Would you like me to let him in?" FRIDAY's evenly calm voice chimed, making me groan and mumble a 'no' into my pillows. The last person I wanted to see right now was my dad.
"Come on kid, let me in." My dad called from the other side of the door, and I could practically hear him roll his eyes and shake his head when I stayed silent. When he spoke again, it wasn't directed at me. "FRIDAY, override command and open the door."
"Wait! That's hardly fair!" I whined like a five year old, groaning again when the door swung open and my dad stood on the other side, quite clearly just as exhausted as I was.
"Get used to it, kiddo. Life isn't fair." Tony chided, walking over to my bed. I tried to shuffle away slightly when I felt the bed dip, my dad perching on the edge as his eyes scanned over the room. "I see you haven't decorated yet." He commented casually, as if nothing had ever happened between us.
"Yeah, well, I thought It'd be a shame to spend so much time on something when you're probably waiting to kick me out anyway." I mumbled, refusing to look at him.
"What the hell is wrong with you, y/n? Ever since you got back you've been-"
"Acting different?" I cut in, and when Tony simply swallowed thickly I nodded. "Funny that, seeing as I was kidnapped and tortured for three years. Not to mention made to kill people for another year after that."
"Y/n I'm sorry..."
"But you're not! You can't be, otherwise you'd actually have tried to save me, rather than leaving me to rot!" My voice cracked, tears pricked at my eyes and I now sat up straight in my bed, facing my dad but not looking him in the eye. "And you can't change that, you can't go back in the past and fix your mistake. And trying to fix it now sure as hell won't work, so I suggest you leave before I'm tempted to use you as my target for my training session tomorrow." I raised my voice, eyes now keeping his captive as the tears rolled freely down my cheeks.
"Oh, kid, they broke you." Tony murmured, cupping my cheek with his hand, eyes swimming with sorrow. Sorrow that I didn't want.
"You can't fix me either, because I'm not broken!" I said harsher now, voice only getting louder. "I don't need to be fixed..." I trailed off, voice barely above a whisper Joe as my eyes broke the contact, averting to my lap as the tears dropped onto the bed sheets.
That's how I found myself in my fathers arms, face pressed against his shoulder as the sobs made my body shake, hiccups escaping me as I tried to speak.
"A-all I needed W-was my D-dad, and yo- you took him f-from me!" I wailed, hands clutching my dad's shirt and his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulder, hands rubbing circles over my back soothingly.
"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry."
...
"Who is that?" Clint frowned, staring at the pictures scattered over the table in front of Natasha and Steve as they studied them deeply, brows creased in thought.
"Our newest pain in the ass." Tony answered for them, slapping a thick folder down in front of Clint as he said so. The marksman was quick to pick it up, flicking through the documents, news stories and information sheets greedily.
"The...winter soldier?" He asked, looking at the three superheroes in front of him as if they'd gone mad. "But he's a ghost story!"
"I've seen him. Been shot by him, actually." Nat said, an sadistically proud smirk forming on her lips with her last words, almost as if it were an achievement.
"We're trying to find out more about him, maybe that way we can beat him." Steve explained, sitting back in his chair with crossed arms as he huffed in defeat, sick to death with staring at the same five pictures all morning.
Y/n walked in, a skip in her step as she crossed the room to Tony.
"Morning, dad." She greeted, placing a quick kiss to his cheek and heading over to the cupboard to grab a mug. Clint and Natasha frowned in confusion, looking between the two as if they'd witnessed pigs fly.
Tony shrugged, y/n too preoccupied with making herself a coffee to notice the avengers' reactions. When her coffee was done, y/n swiped her mug from under the machine and sipped happily, letting out a content sigh before wandering over to stand behind Natasha.
"What are you working on?" She asked, peering over the spy's shoulder to get a glimpse of the pictures.
A loud smash crashed through the room, Tony's eyes widening in shock and Natasha jumping from her seat in order to not get covered in spilt coffee. Y/n stood paralysed, eyes never leaving the photo in front of her as she started at the Soldier. Steve frowned deeply, studying the girl as her eyes glossed over with with what seemed to be...sadness.
Clint was already at her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder as they all asked y/n what had happened and if she was alright. It was like a constant ringing in her ear interrupted their words before they reached her ears, and y/n suddenly felt nauseous as she starred at the bright red star on the soldier's arm, his long and messy dark hair shrouding his face and his leather clad, muscular body. Only his cerulean blue eyes could be seen, the rest of his face covered in a black mask she didn't usually see him in.
"I-I need some air." She stuttered, stumbling blindly out of the room and down the stairs, tipping over a few steps from the bottom and tumbling down the last few. She quickly pulled herself to her feet, hearing still ringing and vision offset, hazy, as she scrambled for the double glass doors. Luckily they already stood open, so she flew through them and out into the busy streets of New York.
Y/n found herself colliding will someone almost instantly, angry shouts of 'hey, watch it!' And 'look where the fuck you're going, kid!' Being called after her like a chorus as she pushed through the bustling people.
She finally stopped, dropping to her knees and simply staring straight ahead, no intended subject in her line of vision as she tried to comprehend the-the grief, at seeing the a soldier's face again.
It had only been two weeks, and yet two weeks without him, his touch, his scent - it felt like an eternity to y/n now. She hasn't registered what her feeling meant for him before, liking him beyond a source of comfort had just felt...wrong, after all he'd done, and yet y/n couldn't deny it.
She was in love with the Winter Soldier, and she didn't even know his name.
...
I wasn't aware of when someone had found me, nor of how they got me back to the tower or even how I was now stood staring blankly out of the window that stood next to my bed. I gazed longingly, almost as if I stared long enough, hard enough, he'd appear.
But of course he wouldn't, he was probably half way across the world, knowing HYDRA. A soft knock on my door and my head was turning, facing my visitor with a look of pure grief and want. Desperate, unhinged want that could eat you up from inside out and you'd still feel it.
"Hey, y/n. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Nat asked tentatively, clearing trying to to disturb my shaken up state. I nodded, offering a small smile which she returned as I now faced her. She walked up to me, talking my hands him hers and playing with the as she spoke, eyes kind and full of understanding.
"There's a mission, and we want you to go." She said calmly, almost as if the mere thought of it would send me into some kind of heart attack.
"Okay," I begun, eyes flitting down to the floor before back up again. "What is it? Aren't you scared that I'm still HYDRA and all I'd do is stab someone in the back?"
"Not exactly." Nat informed me with a smile, amusement glinting in her eyes at my assumption. "For starters, we all trust you, well maybe not steve - but everyone else does." Nat and I both laughed slightly. "And I think you wouldn't have it any other way it to go on the mission yourself." Nat finished.
"How come?" I asked, brow raised.
"There's been a lead..." she started. "On the winter soldier. We thought you might want to help check it out, possibly capture him. Your powers may be the best chance we have a detaining someone as strong as him." Nat spoke. "And if we can detain him.."
"We can save him." I finished.
"Exactly."
#smut#image#images#captain america fanfiction#captain america#winter soldier#winter solider fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#bucky Barnes image#bucky Barnes smut#bucky Barnes x reader#bucky Barnes x you#steve rogers image#steve rogers x reader#steve x bucky#steve roger fanfic#steve Rogers#steve rogers smut#chris evans#chris evans smut#seb stan#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#marvel fanfic#marvel smut#marvel#avengers#natasha romanoff
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An Accidental Series Of Fortunate Events - Kaminari Denki - Smut
Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Kaminari Denki / F!Reader
Words: 6,000
Warnings: Swearing, unprotected sex in an uncomfortable place (aka a vehicle), Denki is an idiot, I make a thinly veiled jab at The Walking Dead cause fuck that show, I was inspired after watching Zombieland, Kirishima with dark hair because who has time to bleach and dye when there are zombies running around?
AN: Another collab piece for the BNHarem server! This month’s theme is Apocalypse, and I got a chance to try my hand at Denki this time around. I think it came out pretty good! Shout outs to my pals @unbreakablekiribaku and @420bakubaby for your encouragement, and to all my loves over in WAP, you know who you are! <3
Check out the rest of the pieces in this collab HERE
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------
Denki sighed, adjusting his backpack as he trudged along the highway. It had been months since the disease had ravaged the country, a plague that no one had foreseen taking the lives of nearly every person in Japan.
He assumed he couldn’t be the only survivor, but he’d yet to see anything that told him otherwise. He didn’t even really understand how he could still be among the living if he was being honest. Denki’s life had always seemed like an accidental series of fortunate events. He got by on sheer luck. He couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t supposed to be here.
He had tried to search for his friends with the panic hit. The chaos, the recently deceased coming back to life and hungry for humans, the whole thing seemed like something out of a terrible movie or a graphic novel turned TV show that was way too long and drawn out. The only person he’d managed to get a hold of was Sero, and their call had been cut short when the towers had gone down. And that had happened right after the entire city had lost power.
Being a pro hero, he went out into the streets to try and help, attempting to get people to safety and fighting those...things? Zombies? It felt so surreal to even say, even though he had experienced it first hand, watched as the man he saw at the convenience store around the corner from his apartment every morning full-on sprinted at the lady who always walked her Shiba Inu down to the park on Saturdays and ripped her throat out with his teeth.
Shuddering at the memory, he weaved around an abandoned car in the road, peering cautiously into the front seat to make sure that no one was hiding inside and hungry for flesh.
He kept a mental list now of things he had to do, rules he’d made for himself to keep surviving. Double-checking his surroundings was one of them. So when he heard the sound of tires on pavement, the revving of an engine from somewhere behind him, he was prepared, quick to run behind a car that was resting on its side, pressing himself against the undercarriage and listening closely.
Unless the walking dead was able to drive, he finally had an answer as to whether or not he was the last one alive. The question was, was this person going to be a friend or foe?
He heard the engine start to quiet, the sound of the vehicle slowing just beyond where he hid, and braced himself, his first unclenching as lightning coursed along his palms. He chanced a glance over the side of the car when he heard the transmission shift into park, and the sound of the truck door creaking open. What he saw nearly took his breath away.
You were standing on the road, a sawed-off shotgun in hand, your hair tied back and away from your face. Your tattered tank top was streaked in dirt and dried blood, your legs in dark jeans that were tucked into black combat boots. You were beautiful, and you were staring right at him, the gun pointed in his direction.
He ducked back down, his breathing ragged as he tried to figure out what to do now. Did he attack? Did he try to talk to you?
“Hey, Blondie! You gonna hide back there or come out and face me?”
He went rigid, eyes wide. Time to turn on the old Denki charm. He stood, breathing deeply and schooling his features, turning to face you. “Hey, sweet cheeks, what brings you to a place like this?”
You blinked at him, your mouth in a straight line, and he felt his confidence waver. “What does it look like? Just trying to survive. Are you an idiot or something?”
“Hey, no reason to be so harsh, babe. I’m just doing the same as you.” He cocked his hip out and rested his hand on it, shooting you a wink. “I was beginning to think I was alone out here.”
Your eyes drifted away from him and scanned the road, the sound of birds in the distance the only other sign of life. “You’re alone?”
“Course I am. What about you?” He didn’t dare move, trying to keep from staring down the barrel pointed at him. You were just a few feet away, and one pull on the trigger would blow him to pieces.
“There are others. I’m just on a supply run.” You were studying him, looking thoughtful. “Why aren’t you armed?”
He raised a hand, letting the electricity flow down his arm so you could see. “I’m always armed, angel.”
Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Nice quirk.” You looked impressed, and he couldn’t help but preen a little. Your gun lowered slightly and he felt himself start to relax. “You got a name, blonde?”
“You can call me Kaminari.” He let his hand fall, chancing a step forward. “I don’t mean any harm. Like you said, I’m just trying not to die. Could you maybe put the gun down?”
“Nervous?” Smirking, you lowered the weapon, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “Alright, Kaminari. Why don’t you come with me? You hungry?”
“Starving.” He slumped a bit, finally feeling like you weren’t going to kill him. “I had some jerky for breakfast this morning but it wasn’t great.”
“Tch.” God, you sounded like Bakugou when you made that noise, and it made him miss his explosive friend. “I’ll bring you back to meet the others. If they decide they like you, maybe you could stay with us. We might be able to use that quirk of yours.” You turned back towards the truck you’d arrived in, making to get inside. “No promises, though.”
Denki hesitated for half a second. What if the others you were with didn’t like him? He knew he could be a pain in the ass sometimes. Ultimately he decided to go with you. If your group didn’t like him he could just continue on by himself.
Hurrying around the car, he shrugged off his backpack, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat beside you. “Hey, you didn’t tell me your name, doll.”
He watched as you settled into the seat, pulling the seat belt across your chest and buckling it. Your eyes met his and you shot him a smile that made his chest tight. “It’s Y/N.”
--
The car ride back was mostly silent. He was itching to ask you things, the chatterbox in him just wanting to burst forth and talk at you for hours. It had been difficult, being alone, since he’d always been such a social butterfly. When all you had to talk to was yourself for months on end, things could get kind of boring.
However, he didn’t want to scare you off or make you think he was some kind of weirdo, so he stayed mostly silent. He did ask where you were from originally, and about the others you were with, but your answers were short and lacking in detail, and he didn’t want to pry.
“Didn’t you say you were on a supply run?” His eyes were trained on the road ahead, keeping a lookout for the lumbering undead.
“Yeah, I hit up a drug store in the next town over.” You gestured to the back seat. “Medicine and bandages, bottled water, and some canned food. We only take what we need at the moment. We never know how long we’re going to be in one place, so we try to keep it light.”
“That makes sense.” From what he gathered, your group wasn’t large. There were only about 5 of you, so he assumed it was easier for you not to have a large number of things to carry around with you.
“Yeah, we’ve found a house in an abandoned neighborhood to stay in for now. We spent a few days combing through the houses in it, and it looks like the area has been empty for a while.” Your fingers tapped on the steering wheel as you turned the car and took an exit ramp off the highway. “I’m kind of hoping we can stay for a while. It’s nice to sleep on a mattress, and it’s got running water.”
“Oh man, a shower sounds so freaking nice.” Leaning back against the seat, he glanced over at you. “It’s hard when you’re on your own, there’s no one to watch your back.” He shivered when he pictured trying to shower and being attacked by a zombie while he was butt ass naked. “Even going to the bathroom is a risk.”
Snorting, you made a right turn and scrunched your nose. “Imagine dying with your pants around your ankles?”
“My literal worst nightmare.” You both burst into a fit of giggles, and Denki felt the awkward tension in the car ease a bit.
You started pointing out landmarks and abandoned stores. “We’re thinking this was one of the first neighborhoods to evacuate when things got bad. The houses are upscale, so we think they might have been tipped off early. Kind of sucks that the rest of us weren’t prepared at all compared to them.”
Nodding, Denki agreed. “It was absolute chaos in Musutafu. I was on the streets trying to help and just watching people rip each other apart. I’ve never seen anything more terrifying in my life.”
“You’re from Musutafu? So are a few of the people in my group.”
Denki watched out the window as you turned down a side road, the remains of a gated communities’ security booth on your left. The door looked like it had been blown off its hinges, and the windows all around it had been smashed. “Did you check the whole neighborhood?”
“Yeah, we started at one end and searched through all the houses. We were mostly looking for survivors, but we didn’t find anyone.”
You followed the main road as he gazed at the abandoned mini-mansions. Tall grass swayed on every lawn, an obvious tell that it had been some time since there had been any landscaping done. Denki tried to picture what this neighborhood would have looked like before disaster struck, picturesque, with luxury cars in the driveways and well-manicured lawns, kids playing in the street, housewives lounging by their in-ground pools. It was jarring to think it would probably never look that way again.
You pulled the truck into the driveway of a large house at the end of the road, stopping in front of a closed gate. The tall fence connected to it wrapped around the property as far as he could see, and he could just make out a low man-made rock wall just beyond it, like someone had busted up giant slabs of concrete and stacked them all the way around, just to reinforce the fence. He had a feeling that was something that your group had constructed.
“Before we go in, I just want you to know, our self-proclaimed leader can be kind of a dickhead.” You moved to take off your seat belt and shot him a look. “He’s smart as fuck though and he helps protect us, so he’s not all bad. Just keep your head down and don’t provoke him and you’ll be fine.”
“Sounds like someone I used to know. I can handle it, don’t worry.” He cracked his knuckles and grinned at you. “I’m a pro at dealing with dudes like that.”
Eyes rolling, you shook your head. “It’s your funeral.” You got out of the truck and moved to the fence, using a key from your back pocket on the padlock keeping it shut. Denki unbuckled his seat belt and slid into the driver’s seat, watching as you pushed on the gate and walked it forward, clearing the way. Denki drove the truck forward far enough so that you could close the lock the gate behind you. He made to move back over but was surprised when you climbed into the passenger seat. “Just keep going up, we’ll park in the garage.”
He followed your instructions, creeping up the driveway and towards the house, his foot pressing on the break when he noticed the pathway to the garage was blocked.
“Or not.” You sighed. “Just stop here.”
Denki put the truck in park, eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scene before him. There was a car up on cinder blocks, blocking the entrance to the garage. Someone was lying underneath it, their jean-clad legs and black boots the only part of them he could see. He shut the car off and handed you the keys, sliding out of the car when you did.
“E, you’re blocking my spot.” You called, rounding the truck. “Come help me with this stuff and meet the new guy I found.”
“Sorry, Y/N. I’m trying to get this thing to run for us. I didn’t expect to still be working on it when you got back but I’m having trouble.” That voice was familiar, and Denki’s lungs seized in his chest. “Wait, did you say new guy?”
He watched as the man shuffled himself from under the car and stood, his hair long and dark, with red at the tips. Red eyes, pointy teeth. Eijirou Kirishima.
“Kiri?” Pain bloomed through his chest like his heart had stopped beating. He never thought he’d see any of his friends ever again, but here he was, one of his best bros in the entire world.
Kirishima looked up at him, a million emotions flitting across his face before it split into the blinding smile he was used to seeing on his friend’s face. “Denki?”
Denki launched himself at his friend, throwing his arms around him, relief flooding through his entire body. Kirishima picked him up, laughing and hugging him tightly. “Holy shit.” They stayed that way longer than necessary, swaying back and forth and mumbling into each other’s shoulders.
“Thought you were dead, dude. What the fuck?” Red Riot finally put him down, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling,
“I’m a bad bitch, they can’t kill me.” Chuckling wetly, he slapped his friend on the shoulder. “What, you give up on the box dye now that the world is ending?”
“I missed you, dude.” Kiri sighed, choosing to ignore the jab and reaching up to muss Denki’s hair.
“So...do you guys know each other?” Your voice broke them from their reunion.
He had almost forgotten you were standing there. Kiri seemed to be in the same boat. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Y/N. We’ve known each other since we were 15. Went to UA together.”
“Does that mean-” You started, but Kirishima cut you off.
“Oh my god.” He turned to look at Denki and grinned, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting towards the house. “HEY, SERO?!”
Denki knew he was going to cry for real now. His best friend was alive. The one person that he had been wishing to see this entire time was here, and Denki was going to get to see him again, all thanks to you. If he hadn’t run into you on the highway, this never would have happened. Swallowing thickly, trying to keep his emotions in check, he blinked up at Kirishima. “Sero is here?”
“Bakugou and Mina, too.” His formally red-haired friend turned towards the front door and threw an arm around Denki’s shoulders as they waited for the rest of the group to arrive. “The Bakusquad is back together.”
--
It had been so long since Denki had felt this relaxed. He’d showered and had a hot meal, and now he was lounging on a couch pressed up against Hanta Sero, his best friend. Kirishima and Bakugou were on the opposite couch, leaning against each other. Even though Bakugou had his normal stoic expression on his face, Denki knew he was happy.
Mina was at his feet, chattering on and telling you about UA, and how Denki used to go stupid when he used his quirk too much. Her story came complete with her shooting a thumbs up, crossing her eyes and crying WHEEEEYYY, which had Sero and Kirishima in tears of laughter. Bakugou even cracked a smile, and Denki kind of wanted the floor to swallow him up.
“Hey, do you need to tell her that, Mina?” He kicked his foot out, toes connecting with her back.
“Aw, are you embarrassed, Kami?” Teasing him, she poked his shin, before turning her gaze back to you. “Last I remember, our little Chargebolt here was in the top 20, so I’d say he’s got a handle on his quirk now.”
Denki felt his ears get hot, and he chanced a glance over at you, blushing even harder when you smiled at him. He’d only known you for a few hours and he was already smitten. Sure, it had been a while since he’d had any human contact, and it was hard to jerk it when you were fearing for your life at every moment. So it was only natural that he wanted to catch the attention of the prettiest girl he’d laid eyes on in months, right?
Sero pulled him up not long after, pushing him from the room and out the back sliding door. He leaned against the railing on the wooden patio, his neck craned so he could look up at the sky, and Denki settled beside him, mirroring his posture.
“I can’t believe we found you, man.”
Huffing a breath, Denki nodded. “Yeah, I know. I thought everyone I knew was dead. When we got cut off, I went out to help and figured I’d run into you, but shit was so crazy and I just...I don’t know. I wasn’t ready for that, dude. I became a hero to help people, not kill zombies. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I had to take their lives, even though it was clear that their humanity was gone, you know?”
Humming, Sero bumped their shoulders. “I get you. It’s fine. We all had to wrestle with that. It was hard for all of us.” Sighing, he gripped the railing and hoisted himself up to sit on it, swinging his feet. “The four of us were together, so we decided to stick that way and headed out of the city. We tried to find you, and I was looking for Shinsou too but, we didn’t want to stick around too long.”
A comfortable silence washed over the two of them before Sero continued.
“We found Y/N not long after that, holed up in a convenience store, wielding a shotgun like a champ. She’s badass.” Sero let out a low whistle. “Man, she gave Bakugou the business as soon as he opened his mouth to snark at her. I’ve never seen him shut up so fast. Even Kiri can’t get him to be quiet like that. That’s when we decided to join up with her.”
Denki snorted a laugh, leaning back on his elbows and looking at his friend. “She pointed that thing straight at me and I panicked and called her like 6 different pet names.”
“You’re lucky you’re alive, Kami. She must like you.”
--
It had been two weeks since Denki had met you on that deserted highway, and you’d reunited him with his friends. Bakugou had been talking about moving on for a few days, but the rest of the group seemed to be comfortable and happy in the house, so he hadn’t been pressing the issue much.
There hadn’t been one attack since Denki had arrived, and from what Mina had told him, they’d only seen a few of the undead since they’d found the place, so no one seemed to be too bothered by it. It still left him feeling uneasy, so used to having to be on alert at all times.
That was the least of his worries when he got to spend time with you, however.
He’d become your official partner when you went on your supply runs, under the guise of keeping you company in the truck when you ventured out into the world. He really just wanted to spend time with you and get to know you better. You had opened up to him more once you realized he was trustworthy, his friendship with the rest of the group enough to prove that to you.
The crush that he had developed on you that first day just seemed to grow more as time went on. He was in too deep, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. In any normal circumstances, you would be completely out of his league, so he knew he had to take this opportunity while it was in front of him.
He really did like you, situation aside. If he wasn’t constantly holed up with you in that house, or that truck, watching your back as you raided abandoned pharmacies and big-box stores for food and clothing and medicine, spending most of his waking moments in your company, he still would have grown fond of you in the way he had. It might have taken longer, but when every day could possibly be your last, there was no reason to pussyfoot around.
Unless your name was Denki Kaminari and you were a goddamn coward.
He was tired of hearing Mina and Sero complain that he was being a pussy, and that he should just make a move. He knew they were right, but there was this little voice in the back of his head that kept repeating the “what if’s”. What if you didn’t like him and you left the group because things got too weird? What if you did like him and he got nervous and fucked shit up? He needed to get out of his own head and just...do something.
He didn’t expect that you were going to beat him to it.
“So,” you said, one hand on the steering wheel and your other elbow leaning against the door as you drove, the window cracked enough to let the breeze blow your hair around. “Are you ever going to kiss me, or are we just going to play this waiting game forever?”
Denki choked on his own spit, sputtering and coughing. “I’m sorry, what?”
Shaking your head, you paused, and he assumed you were waiting for him to stop wheezing. “I mean, am I reading this wrong? You’re into me, right?”
Pushing his hair back from his forehead (which you had generously cut for him the day before), he chanced a glance over at you, steeling himself. ‘Well, yeah, ever since you pointed a gun at me and almost made me wet myself.”
You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Don’t be a wuss, Denki.”
“I love it when you insult me, baby.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he licked his lips. “So, what? You’ve been waiting for me?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I didn’t want things to be weird, but I knew I couldn’t be wrong. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.” Biting your lip, you turned to look at him for a moment. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you shot me finger guns and called me babe.”
Rubbing at the back of his neck nervously, he hummed. “Most of the time that scares women away. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with you?”
“We’re all a little crazy, I guess. I think that’s why we’ve survived this long.” Your smile was contagious, and he couldn’t help but grin back, his arm moving across the center console, his hand open and palm up.
You adjusted your grip on the wheel to the other hand, reaching out with your right and letting your fingers slot between his. He squeezed your hand, his eyes fixed out the windshield as you took the familiar highway back towards the house.
The ride back was comfortably silent, your fingers intertwined the whole way. Denki’s heart was pounding against his ribcage as he tried to think of what to do or say next. You, however, had other ideas.
You turned onto the main road that led into the once gated community. He furrowed his brows, confused when you make a left down an unfamiliar street. The houses here were just as abandoned, all of their front doors marked with a spray painted red x.
“We marked them after we went through the houses, so we would remember where we’d already checked. It took us about a week to get through the entire neighborhood.” You explained, somehow knowing what he was thinking.
The road ended in a cul-de-sac, and you pulled the truck around in a circle until it was facing the exit, letting go of his hand so you could shift it into park and turn off the engine. He watched as you unbuckled your seat belt and shifted the seat back away from the steering wheel, his lungs seizing as you climbed over the center console and into his lap.
“Not that I’m complaining, but-” He hands moved to grip your waist and keep you steady as your straddled him, your knees on either side of his hips.
“I’m going to get my kiss, and I’m not going to do it in that house with the rest of those idiots around.” Your hand moved to his hip, fingers pressing the release on his seat belt. He let go of you long enough to pull the offending nylon belt off of him, the sound of the metal slapping against the door as it sprung back into place nearly startling him out of his skin.
“Yes ma’am.” Swallowing thickly, he pushed a piece of your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear.
The next few moments were in slow motion, eyes fluttering shut, and chests pressing together as you moved closer. His palm slid to cup the side of your neck, your head tilting slightly as your lips finally met.
It took Denki every ounce of control he had not to let his quirk discharge when he finally got to taste your lips. It was everything he’d been hoping for and more. You tasted like the Dr.Pepper you’d gotten when you’d stopped at the pharmacy, and he could smell the scent of your shampoo now that he was close enough. He was addicted almost instantly.
Your lips were soft and pillowy, and he pressed you closer, wanting more. The feel of your hands on his shoulders, nails raking down the front of his t-shirt, and the quiet moan that left you when his right hand squeezed your hip was almost his undoing, but he held on. He would take this at whatever pace you wanted. You were in control.
You pulled away, gasping for air, your nose brushing against his and breath mingling. “You okay?” It was probably a stupid question, but he had to ask. If you felt anything like he did, then you were doing just fine.
“Mmm.” His sentiments exactly. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a smile gracing them. “I kind of want more. Is it too soon? Maybe.”
“Well,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve been telling myself for weeks that we could all die tomorrow, and that I shouldn’t be scared and just go for it, so if that’s what you need to hear…”
“Yep, that’s what I needed.” Blinking at him and biting your lip, your hips ground down against his, the sound of his groan filling the truck. “Fuck it, right? You only live once, and all that shit.”
“Fuck, yes. Bless up, Drake.” He let his hands dip under the hem of your t-shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers sliding over your soft skin.
You sat back and ripped your shirt over your head so suddenly he wasn’t prepared for the movement, and he grabbed your waist again to steady you. “I’ve waited too damn long, Denki. Please, I need you, okay?”
Nodding, he swallowed down his nerves, wanting to show you how much he needed you, too. “You got it, princess. Whatever you want.”
“Shirt off. Pants, too.”
As hot as the moment was, the next few minutes were filled with a lot of giggling and awkward movements as you both tried to undress in the passenger seat of the truck. Denki had the advantage because he was still sitting in the seat, and he just needed to pull his pants and boxers down around his thighs.
You, on the other hand, had your ass pressed against the windshield as you pulled off your boots and tried to tug your skinny jeans down your legs. He tried to help as best he could, keeping you upright and tugging on the denim one-handed until you were able to step out of them. Black lace panties followed, and then you were back on his lap, your mouth pressed to his as your hand wrapped around his aching cock.
Breathless and still laughing, he moaned as your tongues battled for dominance, his hands roaming up and down your sides as you tugged on his hair. Warm fingers moved between the apex of your thighs, dipping through your folds, causing you to break the kiss, throwing your head back. Denki took the opportunity to mouth at your neck, teeth grazing along your skin, biting and sucking marks into your flesh. He inserted one finger inside of you, groaning as your body squeezed around the digit. You were warm and so wet, and he imagined what it would feel like, your muscles clenching down around his cock when he was buried inside of you.
He timed the thrusting of his fingers with the slow drag of your hand around his cock, your moans filling his ears as you rocked back against his hand. He inserted a second finger, scissoring them and stretching you out, taking his time to prepare you. He wanted this to be good, but with the way you felt around him, the way your body felt pressed against him, and the noises you were making, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last.
Thumb rubbing against your clit, he added a third finger, the lewd squelching noises coming from your cunt enough to make his eyes roll back. You were chanting his name in his ear, your forehead pressed against his shoulder as your body rolled against him, your strokes losing momentum. He couldn’t wait any longer.
Pulling his hand from you slowly, he lifted you to sit back a little, adjusting himself and guiding you back towards him. You raised up on your knees, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from biting down on them. You looked so beautiful, and he thanked whoever it was that put him right here in this moment with you.
You smiled at him, and he heard your shaky intake of breath as you lined yourself up and sunk down on his cock. You moaned in tandem, your nails biting into his skin as your grip tightened, hips stilling as he bottomed out inside of you. Denki was grateful for the cracked windows because the breeze that blew through the car felt nice against his burning skin, the beads of sweat dripping down his temple turning cold, and making him shiver.
The realization that even though the windows were cracked open, there was no one around to hear the two of you. Grinning, he thought of all the ways he could make you scream once you were ready for him to move, and he couldn’t wait to hear you cry out his name.
You didn’t keep him waiting long, your cunt squeezing around him was all the indication he needed to start moving. Holding onto your hips tightly, he bucked up into you, reveling in the way you moaned, his toes curling as your hips ground down in sync with his.
Your body welcomed him in with little resistance, gripping his cock, the warm and wet slide as he plunged in and out of you making him dizzy. He focused his attention on unclasping your bra with one hand, pulling it down your arms and letting your breasts spill free from their confines, his head ducking down and his mouth immediately latching onto your hardened nipple.
Your moaning became louder, pussy clenching around him like a vice, unintelligible babbles spilling from your lips as he sucked, teeth grazing the hardened bud, his other hand massaging your other breast.
“Denki, Denki...please. Fuck, I need to come, please.”
Grunting in response, he let your nipple go with a pop, back straightening as he sat up. His fingers brushed along your cheek, turning you to face him properly, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip. “Need to come already, Y/N?”
“Yes, fuck, feels so good, Denki. Please.” Your tongue darted out to lick the pad of his thumb and he shivered again. He could feel the blood in his body traveling south, the wrecked look on your face as you bucked down against him driving him to the edge.
He used his now spit slicked thumb to rub against your clit in tight circles as he slammed into you, teeth nipping on your earlobe as he rasped in your ear. “God, fuck, come for me Y/N. Come on my cock, baby.”
Later on, he would tease you and tell you that even though you were a few blocks away, he wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of your group didn’t hear the noise you made when you reached your end. Your entire body locked up, trembling violently, the cry of his name that left your lips throwing him over the edge as well. He buried his face in your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as his cock twitched, filling you with thick ropes of cum. It was so much that he felt it leaking out of you as you slumped together to catch your breath, even though he was still inside you.
After a while you sat back a little, peering at him with your face still flushed, tears clinging to your lashes.
“You alright?” He brushed the wetness away with his thumb, biting his lip as he gazed at you fondly.
Nodding, you pushed your hair back from your face, a small smile on your lips. “I’m great. That was perfect. God, why did you wait so long, Denki?”
Rolling his eyes, he leaned forward to kiss you softly. “Good things come to those who wait and all that, you know?”
“Okay, but you were just scared I’d reject you, weren’t you?” You pinched his arm playfully, giggling at him when he winced and rubbed at the red mark you’d left.
“Maybe, but it was worth the wait, wasn’t it?”
“You could say that.” Reaching up to pat down his mussed up hair, you fixed him with a serious look. “At least if I die tomorrow, I’ll know I was given the best dicking down I’ve ever received, and that it was from a top 20 pro hero to boot.”
“You just want me for my hero status, babe. Admit it.” He grinned, tickling your side.
“You caught me, Chargebolt. Now, let’s get cleaned up and get back before Bakugou comes looking for us and finds out we fucked in here. He’s going to be so pissed.”
“Let him be pissed.” Denki wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back to him, his lips finding yours again.
And for a few moments, he forgot that the world was ending and that the two of you could be ripped apart in seconds by hungry flesh-eating zombies
You were another accidental fortunate event that he’d stumbled into, and if that’s all that his life was meant to be full of, well, he didn’t mind it at all.
#kaminari denki#kaminari denki x reader#bnha x reader#bnharem collab#kaminari denki smut#mha x reader#mha smut#mha#bnha smut#bnha#kingexpl0sionmurder writes#denki kaminari#denki kaminari x reader#denki kaminari smut
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Infernal VIII
Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.
Word-count: 3.4k+
Masterlist
Prev. | Part 8
Ever since you were eleven years old, you’d been going to the Paramount once a week with Theo to share a large popcorn with m&ms poured over the top, two large sodas, and the biggest bag of Sour Patch Kids that money from dog walking, tutoring, and scrounging between the couch cushions could buy. The dark was a blanket of safety and anonymity for an hour or two, and you loved it more than anything. It was two hours of you, Theo, and whatever rerun was showing that weekend. One of only two movie theatres in Greendale, The Paramount stood as a testament to friendship and the enduring power of bad cinema.
Sharing the Paramount and all its memories with Caliban was nerve-wracking.
If he noticed your non-stop fidgeting, he didn’t say anything. He was perfectly composed as he watched stressed out parents corral their screaming children - shoulders relaxed, mouth upturned, and hand easily laced through yours.
“You know, I never cared much for children,” he said. He suppressed a laugh when one of the kids threw pieces of popcorn at their dad. “But I’m starting to think they may not be such loathsome little creatures after all. Given a little direction, they could surpass any of Hell’s torturers.”
You would have laughed at his joke if you’d been listening, but you were too busy watching the specials board light up his face red, orange, and yellow that caught on the edges of his hair. “Is this your first date?” you asked.
Caliban raised an eyebrow as he turned to you and you stammered out an explanation. Impulse control had never been one of your strong suits, and it had been on the decline lately. Putting you out of your misery with a sly smile, he said, “Yes.”
“Wait-” you tugged on his hand slightly as the two of you moved forward in the line “-does that mean I’m your first kiss?”
Caliban laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “My first kiss was with a succubus.”
You weren’t sure what kind of answer you were expecting, but that particular one caught you off guard. “Oh. That’s pretty cool. Do you guys keep in touch?”
“Are you in touch with your first kiss?” Caliban asked, throwing another smile at you as the two of you walked over the counter. He let you order and pay in peace, but he asked again when you were flavoring the popcorn, clearly amused by your awkwardness.
You were in the middle of explaining that your first kiss had been on a dare at one of the worst, least supervised birthday parties you’d ever been to when someone bumped into and spilled your popcorn all over the floor. They kept walking.
They only cleared a few feet before the Darkness lashed out and you yelled at them. “Hey! Are you going to apologize?”
You recognized them once they turned around. He was one of the kids from the lacrosse team who’d bullied Theo back in freshman year. With possibly the fakest smile you’d seen, Charlie said, “Chill. It was an accident.”
“Apologize.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Say you’re sorry.”
His body relaxed and his eyes took on a familiar glassy, hollow quality as he mumbled an apology. You smiled.
“Good.” You took a step forward to close the distance between you. “Now give me your wallet.” He did so without a word, the charm overwhelming any reservations he may have had. He faltered slightly when you took out most of the cash, but you told him to be quiet. With a smile, you handed his wallet back to him. “Enjoy your movie.”
Charlie blinked twice, slowly, but then he nodded. “You too,” he said uncertainly. He stumbled down the hall and looked at you again as he rounded a corner, completely dumbstruck.
You waved at him, turning back to Caliban with a smile. “Ready to watch the movie?”
The easiness from earlier was gone; Caliban’s jaw was tense and his eyes were narrowed. He didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall. “What was that?”
You shrugged. “I wanted him to apologize.”
“Are you sure that’s all you wanted?” he asked, pushing himself off the wall. His movements were easy, but his words were strained.
“Yes,” you lied, unclenching your fists. When you stole a glance at your palms, they were coated in a thin layer of darkness, smudged around the area where you’d dug your nails in to keep from knocking the false smile off Charlie’s face.
---
“Wait, so you’re like … Hannah Montana if she was a teenage witch and he’s like- what is he? Your Jesse?”
Out of all the reactions you’d imagined after telling your friends that the mother you’d spent your whole life looking for turned out to be a literal demon, a Hannah Montana comparison hadn’t even made the top ten.
“Harvey, don’t you think you’re being a little-”
To be fair, they’d handled the news about Lilith better than expected. Harvey was confused, Theo was happy you found your mom even if she’d tried to kill them all before, Sabrina helped smooth things over, and Roz admitted to having her suspicions for a while.
“What? I’m just trying to understand why the guy that tried to rule Hell and enslave us all is sitting on my couch.”
It was only when things came to Caliban that their understanding faltered. Even Sabrina, trying her best, didn't quite understand.
“I’m sitting on your couch because I was invited, Huckleberry Finn.”
After defeating the Darkness and unbinding your powers, you’d gone to Sabrina’s with a tub of ice cream and explained everything. A weight that had been slowly crushing you was lifted off your chest that night, but it came back in full force with every angry word from Harvey. It wasn’t like you’d expected him to understand, but you’d hoped he would at least try.
“Okay!” Standing up, you let out a weighty breath and held out your hands to stop them from speaking. “Will you two stop antagonizing one another for five minutes?”
Reluctantly, Caliban nodded as Harvey collapsed back in his chair and grumbled, “Fine, but I still don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to like him. You just have to respect that I like him,” you said. Harvey didn’t seem convinced, so you sighed and tried to come up with a new strategy. Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to Harvey. “Do you know what it’s like to feel like a piece of you is missing?” To Roz, “Like there’s something wrong with you because you just don’t fit in with everyone else?” To Theo, “And then you figure out what it is and you can’t tell anyone because you don’t think they’d care about you anymore if they found out?” You wiped your face haphazardly and stared at the Smashing Pumpkins poster peeling off the back wall. “It fucking sucks.”
“And I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Harvey said, standing up and blocking your view of the poster. “I am. But you can’t expect me to be okay after finding out that you spent the last three months lying to everyone and dating that asshole.”
“I didn’t want to lie to you!” You felt the Darkness rising in your throat and did your best to push it down. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked back at Harvey and tried not to cry. “Is it so hard to believe that I was scared to tell you, or did you forget when you cut Sabrina out of your life when she told you?”
Harvey frowned. His hand twitched at his side as he glanced at Sabrina. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Yeah, I know, because she was the most important person in your life and I’m just the kid that lives next door.” Your voice broke and Harvey stepped forward to give you a hug. The Darkness lurched at the movement and you stepped back to keep it from hurting him. Taking another step back, you started gathering your stuff. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Hey, just hold on a second, okay?” Harvey tried to grab your wrist to stop you, and you couldn’t stop the Darkness from lashing out this time.
“Don’t touch me.”
Harvey frowned, his hand outstretched and frozen, and a familiar, glassy film cloud covered his eyes. The air was sucked out of the room as Harvey blinked and tried to recover. His hand still hung in the air. Your heart broke.
“I need to go,” you rushed out, scrambling for the door. You didn’t care about the stuff you dropped or the fact that Caliban was sitting on the couch the last you saw - all you cared about was getting out before you did anything worse. Still, you froze in the doorway. Over your shoulder, you mustered up all your courage and said, “I’m sorry.”
You weren’t sure if any of your friends heard you over their concern for Harvey or if they just didn’t want to respond, but at least Caliban caught up to you in the silence. He didn’t reach out for you for the rest of the night, all he did was stare at you with stormy, unfathomable eyes.
---
Hilda Spellman was the closest thing you’d ever had to a mother; she was warm and inviting, and always made your favorite cupcakes if you were having a bad day. She made sure that your dad always had something on the table for dinner. She took you shopping every year before school started. She let you stay in their house for almost a month when you were convinced that your bedroom was haunted. Hilda Spellman deserved nothing but happiness.
So why couldn’t you suck it up for one day and give her the perfect wedding that she deserved?
Because, despite your best efforts, you were still upset at how things had unfolded with your friends. While Theo and Roz forgave you for lying and accepted you for being a witch, they weren’t sure they could give Caliban a chance after he lashed out at Harvey. Talking to Harvey might have solved that problem, but he was pretty much set on avoiding you. You didn't blame him after what you did to him, even if he didn't know what exactly it was you did to him.
All this drama might not have been an issue otherwise, but they were the only people you knew at this wedding. So far, the only other people to show up were witches that were preoccupied with either the Uninvited or the incubus on the loose.
When you noticed Nick had disappeared from door duty, you finished your drink and set the glass down. Sliding in next to Sabrina, you bumped her arm with your elbow and held your hand out for some of the programs. “Need a hand?”
“Not really, but I’ll take the company,” she said with a smile. She handed you a stack of creamy pink programs and laughed wistfully. “Nick was supposed to help me with this but he’d rather get busy with Prudence in the coat closet.”
You tried not to laugh as you handed a program to a very solemn-looking witch. “Yeah, well, at least he’s talking to you,” you said, watching the witch disappear into the steadily growing crowd.
Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Harvey will come around,” she said, pausing to smile as she handed out another program. “He’s just scared of losing you in all this.”
“You know, Caliban actually said something similar after we left the other night.” This time, you didn’t bother hiding your laughter. Sabrina didn’t bat an eye at taking on an eldritch terror, but the possibility of Caliban having a valid point seemed to shake her to her core. “He said that I shouldn’t be so hard on Harvey because all he wants is to keep me safe, but this is the one thing that he can’t protect me from. The magic and … getting my heart broken.”
Sabrina tried to reign in her surprise, but she still seemed stunned as she handed out another program. “That … actually makes sense.”
“Weird, right?” You stole a look at the line forming outside the church and your heart ached when you saw your friends lugging their band equipment through the parking lot. It was going to be a long night.
Sabrina followed your gaze and sighed. “So ... where is Caliban? You RSVPed that you were bringing a plus-one but I don’t see him anywhere.”
You tore your eyes away from the band to hand out another program. Shaking your head, you said, “I was going to bring him, but then I figured that this was Hilda’s special day and she didn't need a fistfight between her lead singer and a plus one.”
“Well, I think you should bring him,” Sabrina said. “What? Just because I’m going to be sad and alone the whole night doesn’t mean you have to.”
So, after a quick check with Hilda, you invited Caliban. He agreed to come, if you promised to talk to him about your lesser angels creeping in.
You could feel Harvey staring at the back of your head throughout the whole ceremony, but Theo sat next to you and Robin said he’d save you guys a seat at the reception. Things were starting to look up, even if they were a little weird.
As awkward as the ceremony had been, the reception was great. Caliban was as charming as ever, winning over Theo and Robin and making witches swoon left and right. Despite all your time together, you’d never seen him this comfortable around others. A room without demons or humans, it seemed, was where you found common ground.
Until Sabrina’s toast.
She lost credibility before she even opened her mouth by stumbling up the stage steps. Opening with a joke, she had a solid two and a half seconds before she started drawing attention to every couple in the nearby vicinity - starting with Harvey and Roz, glossing over Theo and Robin to mention you and Caliban, and eventually landing on Nick and Prudence. Sabrina tried to save the toast by circling back to Hilda, but it was too late. She crashed into the drums, said she’d be single for a century and a half, and was dragged off-stage by Zelda while the Fright Club scrambled to perform their set.
Amidst the chaos, Caliban ducked his head closer to yours and brought his drink to his lips. “You know,” he said, pausing to take a sip, “If you’d told me how much fun these gatherings were, I would have come with you a long time ago.”
Rolling your eyes, you took his drink and shifted in your seat so you could lean against him. “Does that mean I can sign you up for the book club?”
“That depends. What are we reading?” Caliban asked. He looked away from the stage to meet your eyes.
“The Feminine Mystique.”
“Oh, okay.”
Laughing, you tilted your head up to kiss his jaw. Settling back into your seat and intertwining your hands, you said, “Well, if it counts for anything, I’m glad you’re here now.”
If you thought the worst part of the night was Sabrina’s toast, you were totally and completely unprepared for the incubus attack. It jumped from Theo to Harvey to Melvin before landing in the Uninvited. Their eyes were wild for a moment, but then the Uninvited shuddered as their eyes returned to a deep, empty brown. They’d eaten the incubus, and moments later they bit into Dorian’s heart like an apple.
There was something unbearably sad about the Uninvited, and the Darkness within you ached to fix them. It didn’t matter that they toasted to the end of all things, all that mattered was that they were alone. You started reaching out for them when Caliban took his hand in yours and pulled you closer to him.
“I am the Herald of the Void. I feast on the hearts of those that reject me. And someone here turned me away, therefore, death to you all.” The Uninvited smiled and downed whatever had been in their glass.
Tipping your glass towards the Uninvited, you drank to their toast as Hilda apologized for turning them away. She tried to invite them, but the Uninvited said it was too late. They’d already been turned away.
Nick stepped forward as the one that had turned the Uninvited away to sacrifice himself, but Sabrina tugged him back by the edge of his sleeve. Prudence was one step behind, holding Nick close to her chest as Sabrina offered the Uninvited a heart of sorts. She explained that she’s been wandering a cosmos of her own lately, feeling hopelessly alone, and just wanting to belong somewhere with someone. If they got married, the Uninvited would have her heart and a place to belong, always. Forevermore, they’d be the Invited.
The Darkness grew unruly as the Uninvited considered her proposal, and for a moment you thought they’d do as the Darkness wanted and rip Sabrina’s heart from her ribcage. Instead, all they did was nod.
---
Cold bit at your fingertips as you sat, knees pulled up to your chest, on the wall outside the desecrated church, but the stolen Mother’s Ruin kept your stomach warm. The sun had disappeared somewhere between the fake wedding and trapping the Uninvited in Sabrina’s old dollhouse, October chill coming in with the night sky, but you welcomed the change. Indifferent sunshine to apathetic stars.
Pouring out a bit of gin on the dead flowers below, you said a silent prayer for the Uninvited. Not for forgiveness, but maybe understanding. Hoping it would make the Darkness subside.
The crunching of dried grass underfoot interrupted your thoughts.
“This seat taken?”
You shrugged but moved over all the same to make space for Harvey. He threw a lanky leg over the side of the wall as he let out a deep breath. When he was settled, you offered him some of the Mother’s Ruin but he shook his head.
“No, uh, I’m good. Thanks though.” Harvey drummed uncertainly on the sides of the wall, watching carefully as you drank his rejected share of the gin. “So I was thinking about something the Uninvited said back there - about wandering around all alone until the terrors welcomed them to their club?”
Raising an eyebrow, you asked, “Are you about to call my boyfriend a terror?”
Harvey laughed, a deep, unsure sound, and looked down at the wall again. “Well, he is, but no.” He sighed and tried to get back to his point. “Look, I know I’m not the best at handling change. When Sabrina … I don’t know. It just- it kills me that you felt like you felt so alone and didn’t think you could talk to me.”
“Harvey-”
“Wait, let me finish.” Harvey took another deep breath. His nose was red, either from the cold or because he was holding back tears. “I never ever wanted to be the reason why you got hurt. But I was, and I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.”
You slid your hand over his. “Thank you,” you said quietly.
“I’m still not done.”
“Of course, you’re not.”
Harvey choked out another laugh and smiled. “Don’t tell Theo but you’re my best friend. And if Caliban makes you happy then … I kinda owe it to you to give him a shot.”
“So you’ll stop antagonizing him?” you asked, sitting up a bit straighter and pointing the bottle of gin at Harvey’s chest.
“Well, I never said that,” Harvey said dramatically. He laughed and pulled his other leg over the wall, taking the bottle from you and pulling a face after he tasted it. “Okay, what stars are we looking at tonight?”
You threw your legs over the side and let out a deep breath as you leaned against Harvey’s arm. “Fuck if I know. Tommy was the one who remembered all that stuff.”
“You just wanna make some up?” Harvey asked. He put his arm around your shoulder and handed the bottle back to you.
Hugging the bottle to your chest to keep the Darkness warm as it slept, you looked up to the sky and pointed to a cluster of stars. “That one’s you because it’s ugly.”
Tagged: @caliban-is-my-girl @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @music-movies @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @olivia-west-allen @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24
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Meeting and Dating Ray Stantz
(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
- You first met Ray when you were both still working at the University. You worked down the hall from him and would run into him frequently.
- In the mornings, the two of you would arrive at the same time and he’d open the door for you. You’d make small talk whenever you ended up in the same room or walking in the same direction and he was always willing to lend you something; or a hand, if you needed it. You didn’t know him incredibly well but you did know that he was a sweet guy.
- Ray had a major crush on you. He pretty much fell for you the moment he saw you but his own insecurities kept him from trying to do anything about it. You were smart, gorgeous, and had an amazing personality. What would you want with him?
- It takes him a while to actually ask you out. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should, wondering if he’s willing to make a fool of himself just for the off chance that you’ll agree. Peter has a field day with him when he’s in this state, constantly teasing and prodding, urging him to just get it over with and see what you say.
- There was definitely a few instances of him approaching you and/or opening his mouth to say something to you, then quickly shutting it and excusing himself with an apology. It takes him nearly a year to actually go through with it.
- You were just leaving the building and preparing for your walk home when he caught up with you and somewhat shyly asked if you would like to have dinner with him sometime. To his utter shock, you smiled and agreed, and the two of you made plans to meet.
- The two of you went out to a not so fancy restaurant which was perfect for the occasion. He felt like he was walking on clouds the entire night; here he was, with you, and you actually seemed to like him. What were the odds that you would actually like him?
- But regardless of his disbelief over how lucky he was, the two of you had a really great time together and you were happy to see him again the next day at the university.
- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. He was walking you home and you were both stood in front of your door, saying goodbye. You were just about to walk inside when you paused, turning around and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before saying goodnight again and closing your door.
- He was frozen in shock for a good minute and a half but you should have seen the smile on his face.
- It wasn’t long before the two of you considered yourselves a couple, and he couldn’t have been happier.
- Ray is a big sweetheart and you can’t convince me otherwise, though I doubt you would even try. You’ll never meet another man who treats you so right.
- He loves Pda, especially when people recognize him in public. He feels particularly cool with you hanging on his arm.
- Quick giddy kisses.
- He keeps his hand on your lower back whenever you’re standing together, it’s just a habit of his.
- He likes using nicknames; he thinks they’re cute. He usually just calls you things like honey, sweetheart, and beautiful; he’s somewhat old fashioned in that regard. He wouldn’t even mind you calling him pet names. In fact, he’d probably love it.
- He’s a strong boy and proud of it! Ask him to hold something! Ask him to open a pickle jar! Ask him to carry you! He’s got it covered! …Although, occasionally he wont be able to open the pickle jar and you might actually show him up when trying it again for yourself.
- Cheek kisses. He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you in, pressing his lips to your cheek enthusiastically and smiling down at you.
- Stealing his sweaters. They’re big and cozy and he melts every time he sees you wearing them.
- Takeout meals. You order in or pick something up at least once a week.
- He’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself so the two of you always have a great time together, filled with jokes and stupid/ridiculous behavior. He loves being able to make you laugh.
- Cuddling? Sign him the fuck up! No matter what you’re doing, he’ll find a way to squeeze himself beside you and wrap himself around you in some way. Whenever you’re going to bed, you’ll rest your head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you; …or you’ll just be laying almost completely on top of him.
- A lot of your dates are going to be interrupted, it just sort of comes with the territory. When something strange is in the neighborhood, he’s the one being called so you just have to be patient and understanding. He always makes it up to you anyway.
- Occasionally, he’ll stop and pick up flowers or a movie you’ve been wanting to see from the rental place on his way home. He likes surprising you with something nice, especially if he was called away when you were supposed to spend time together.
- Becoming close with Egon, Winston and Peter. You see them constantly so it’s sort of hard not to.
- Sticking by his side and cheering him up when the Ghostbusters aren’t too popular anymore.
- You may or may not be a partial owner of the bookshop. As much as he loves being a Ghostbuster, he can’t deny that he likes running the place with you.
- He’s always there if you need someone to get you something or somewhere. He’s particularly good at pushing through crowds and coming up with things to say that will make it easier for you to do what you have to do. He also just doesn’t take no for an answer so, ya know.
- He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. You can always convince him to do something for you.
- Ray looks like he knows how to fix things. He looks and acts like a man I could trust with my things. If my car broke down, his smiling face would be the one I would ask to help me. So, if you need anything fixed around your house, all you have to do is ask.
- Little traditions. Things like watching a specific show after dinner, going to a certain place every weekend or eating certain things on certain days.
- He loves hugs, they’re pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.
- Random playful harassment. He kind of likes to tease you, jokingly making fun of and tickling you. He thinks the way you react is cute and it’s usually after you do or say something to him so technically it’s revenge.
- Now, I’m not saying that Ray owns action figures or other toys of that nature, but Ray would definitely be the type to own them.... You may or may not have a little shelf full of figures when you move in together.
- He’s a big fan of going to zoos. You practically know the animals at your local zoo by name from how many times you go to see them.
- Carnival and amusement park dates.
- He gets this dopey smile on his face whenever you try to give him a massage or dote on him in anyway. He’s just so overjoyed that you actually like him and care about his wellbeing. He also just loves the feeling of your hands.
- Ray sort of craves domesticity. Seeing you wearing one of his shirts and cooking breakfast or being there to welcome him home after work or surprising him by doing some chores would literally make him melt. He’s a centimeter away from proposing to you on the spot.
- The two of you are pretty much the epitome of two best friends dating. You have the time of your lives together and are always completely comfortable and happy in each others presences.
- Walking around New York together. You wind up just wandering around the city a lot, occasionally stopping for food or drinks or whatever comes to mind when you pass a store.
- He isn’t the most sensitive person to talk to when you’re upset or scared about something but he apologizes when he goes off on a tangent or says the wrong thing. Don’t blame him too much, he’s got a skewed view of what’s considered a problem rather than a good scientific discovery.
- Ray gets easily excited about a lot of things, he’s sort of like a puppy at times so even though you might not be so amused with a situation, he’ll be incredibly happy. Whenever he notices that you aren’t thrilled, he’ll usually just give you a sheepish smile and a “sorry honey”.
- Having him randomly show up and borderline embarrass you when something big is found out. Just picture the restaurant scene from the second movie.
- Visiting him at the office.
- Letting him gush to you about the paranormal and supernatural.
- Helping him with his research, experiments, and invention. He loves having you around and hearing your input.
- He’s definitely named something after you, whether it be a theory, project or machine he’s created. It’s cute, in a geeky sort of way.
- Be prepared to get scared and not just by ghosts. Sometimes Ray will just pop into view out of nowhere, excitedly talking about something he just saw and scaring the living daylights out of you. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, did he do something wrong?
- He works with all things supernatural and paranormal; he’s seen a lot over the years and because of that, he’s gradually gotten more and more protective of you over time. Wouldn’t you if you knew that evil slime once ran wild underneath your girlfriends apartment?
- He gets particularly miffed when jealous, not livid or angry just …miffed. You know he’s not upset with you but you can tell that something is bothering him. Occasionally, you won’t even have to figure out what because he’ll insult whoever he’s jealous of like he’s talking about the weather.
- The two of you don’t really fight all too often, you rarely have a reason too, even though your lives are incredibly hectic most of the time. He doesn’t really have one certain way of responding when he’s angry, everything depend on the situation. One day, you’ll bicker, the next, you’ll yell.
- He always feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Almost immediately after he storms out, he’ll get this pang of guilt in his chest and debate on whether or not he should just walk back in and apologize. He usually doesn’t right then; wanting to give you time to yourself, but does come back not very long after and apologizes, admitting he was wrong if he was and asking if things are alright between the two of you.
- He’s always happy to say he loves you, and gosh does he love hearing you say it.
- Your family probably loves him. He’s a guy that’s easy to get along with …and he’s a ghostbuster so he’s got that going for him.
- Ray is sooo ready to have kids and settle down with you, he’s just waiting until he’s in a more stable work environment. He doesn’t need any ghosties lurking in your kids nursery, even if he’s the most equipped to get rid of them.
#ghostbusters imagine#ghostbusters headcanon#ghostbusters headcanons#ghostbusters imagines#80s movie imagine#80s movie headcanon#80s movie imagines#80s movie headcanons#ray stantz imagine#ray stantz headcanons#ray stantz headcanon
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Space Age Love Song, Ch. 1
A Mandalorian x O/C Fic
Warning: Language
Notes: I’ve had this idea for awhile now and decided “why the hell not?” It’s been quite some time since I’ve written a full fledged fic, but I’m going to try to remain committed and complete this one. I already have a good idea of where I want it to go, so that’s a plus. Readers, you’re in for plenty of Mando romance, fluff, angst, action, and suspense. I hope you enjoy!
He crashed into her life like a falling star. The brightest star in the cosmos.
Ch. 1: Crash Into Me
The world was always a lonelier place at night. Rural Kansas appeared much more desolate in the dark; the roads and the land seemed to stretch on forever, both leading to nothing. The whistling of the evening breeze was the only voice to be heard for miles.
A half-drunk glass of whiskey in hand, Sara craned her head skyward to gaze at the stars. At most times, it seemed, they were her only friends. At least there were plenty of them to go around.
Her shift at the Hillsboro Community Hospital had been a grueling one this evening. She had just managed to drag her weary bones home a little more than an hour ago and already the night was creeping into day. Though exhausted, she’d suddenly found herself wired the second she’d pulled into her driveway at nearly 3 a.m. Now coming up on 4 in the morning, she downed the rest of her whiskey in hopes of calming herself long enough to drop into dreamland.
She had no reason to be awake so late, or early, rather. Sara had no one to pass the wakefulness with. The last of the only family she’d ever known had vanished from her life nearly a decade ago, leaving her with nothing but an old country house in the middle of nowhere that was far too big for a solitary woman such as herself. That house and memories.
There shouldn’t be any joy in the thought of coming home to an empty house. No happiness at the thought of eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone. But, as it began to happen more frequently, Sara came to realize that this rush of adrenaline she felt upon returning to her solitary homestead night after night was from the hope that she wouldn’t be lonely for long. One night she’d come home and there’d be someone worth coming home to. Someone waiting for her.
For now, though, Sara pulled herself to her feet, blinked the stars from her eyes, and prepared to head inside where she’d climb the stairs to her room and finally sleep the sleep of the dead.
She had just yanked open the finicky screen door when she heard a peculiar thoom! Her tired eyes returned to the sky to see that it was ablaze with light. A star, like a white hot ember, arced through the night, tumbling, tumbling down. So bright. So fast. So BIG.
That is not a star, she thought.
Sara watched the object’s decent with her heart in her throat. What if it was a meteor? Or a guided missile gone astray? Should she take cover? Would there be enough time? Would it even matter? The time she could’ve spent moving was lost to an endless string of “what if’s” playing on a loop inside her head, and by the time her brain managed to squeeze a logical thought about running into the mix, the object was crashing to earth in the field behind her barn.
She felt the impact from her porch; wobbled unsteadily on her feet as a tremor passed through the ground below. She could see the glow of flames in the distance. With the threat of a wildfire from space igniting the field beyond, with her house and all its memories in danger, she sprang into action.
Sara darted inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, retrieving the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Then, opting to take the back door, she darted back out into the chilly pre-dawn and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward what she could only assume was Fox Mulder’s wet dream.
***
So, it definitely wasn’t a star. It wasn’t a meteor or a missile either. Nothing in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for what she was seeing. It was in pieces and it was on fire, but even partially destroyed Sara could positively identify (having watched enough cheesy sci-fi movies with her gramps to do so) an alien ship when she saw one.
“What kind of Superman origin story bullshit is this?” she wondered out loud.
The flames licking at the wreckage weren’t too big, and the small extinguisher did the trick for the most part. The dented silver exterior was still smoldering in some places by the time the canister was empty. Tossing the empty red cylinder aside, she stood and stared at the UFO in a mix of wonder and fear as another round of incessant questions bombarded her brain. Should she call someone about this? Who the hell was she supposed to call anyway: the cops, a scientist, the news, or all of the above?
With a startling groan of metal and a hiss of pressurized air, a large door at the rear of the ship (or was it the front? She had no fucking clue) descended, assuming a new role as a ramp, or so it appeared. It was almost as if the ship were inviting her inside.
Sara took a moment to peer into the vessel’s dark innards, then shook her head. She’d seen enough Ridley Scott movies to know that going inside was a terrible idea. Blindly investigating a mysterious extraterrestrial ship is how people ended up dead or, at the very least, pregnant with an alien baby. She wanted no part in either one of those scenarios if she could help it.
The rationalist inside of Sara urged her not to take another step farther; practically shouted at her to turn around and run the other way. But the nurse in her wouldn’t, couldn’t allow her to abandon someone who might be aboard and may be hurt, human or...otherwise. Damn. Sometimes she felt like she’d chosen the wrong profession.
Taking a cautious step up onto the ramp, jumping a bit at the echoing of her own footsteps, Sara called out to the darkness.
“Hello? Is anyone in there?”
When she got only silence for a response, she decided to forge on ahead into the belly of the great metal beast.
“Okay, I’m coming in so please just...don’t eat me and keep your tentacles to yourself.”
The cavernous ship was as black as night. In the distance she could see lights blinking, like stars in the night guiding her way. Sara felt along the walls blindly and inched forward with small, cautious steps.
“If anyone is in here be warned. I do not like surprises and, so help me, if you jump out at me here in the dark I will punch first and ask questions later.”
As she drew closer to the flashing lights, she began to hear noise. What sounded like about five different alarms were blaring, but still nothing resembling a voice.
Suddenly, the floor seemed to rise by a foot and she stumbled at the sudden change in elevation. Her arms flailed dramatically as she desperately reached for something, anything to grab onto. Sara hit the ground hard and loud, her cry of surprise cut short as her head thumped against the cold floor.
Disoriented from the blow, she looked up and took in her surroundings with blurred vision. The alarms screamed at her from every direction, which was doing absolutely nothing to help her gradually building headache, and the lights blinked furiously in sync with the shrieking sirens. She could make out other objects now, what looked like buttons and knobs and levers and screens all illuminated by the incessant flashing of the warning lights. Damn her shit luck. Alone on this alien ship and she’d managed to stumble (literally) into the freaking cockpit. But where was the pilot?
Okay, maybe whatever had been flying this saucer never heard her, had no idea she was here. Maybe it was an unmanned craft. There was still a chance she’d make it out of this incredibly foolhardy endeavor alive. Stiffly and carefully Sara rolled onto her back, glanced up, and immediately screamed.
A face, or at least what she assumed was a face, more like a mask of some sort, peered down at her from above. Stifling another cry, she scrambled up to a sitting position and shinnied away until she felt her back hit wall. Even with that outburst, the creature didn’t appear to stir. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and vigilant observation, it didn’t appear that the alien was conscious.
Before she even realized she was doing it, Sara was on her hands and knees, creeping closer to where the sleeping being was collapsed heavily in what she figured to be the captain’s chair. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like a man than a monster. A man (or a woman) encased from head to toe in a suit of shimmering silver armor. Hell, it could have been a robot.
Through the small t-shaped visor in the dome-like helmet Sara could see no traces of a face. She had no definitive way of knowing if the spaceman was truly slumbering or just waiting for her to get close enough to grab, and for a moment she hesitated to move any closer. But when she saw the small trickle of blood leaking from beneath the helmet and onto the right pauldron, her fear instantly vanished. Definitely not a robot; a living, bleeding person. RN powers activate!
“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” Sara gave the shiny helmet a light tap, trying to conjure a response. “Come on spaceman, spacewoman, are you with me? Wake up!”
His or her head rolled limply to the side as the blood continued to run. Unconsciousness following a vehicular (or spacecraftular) crash was never a good sign, but Sara couldn’t know for certain until she saw the source of the blood how bad the damage was. Gripping the helmet between her sweating palms she began to slide it upward carefully. Before she could even get it past the wearer’s chin, a hand reached up and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her instantly. She flinched, in surprise rather than pain; their grip was unexpectedly gentle.
“Don’t-don’t take it off,” a very male voice stammered weakly. “You can’t...”
Sara was momentarily stunned. The alien spoke perfect English, and in a voice as soft as their grasp. She shook her head to reorganize her thoughts. This situation called for the utmost professionalism. When you’re a nurse, first impressions are everything. And she wasn’t representing just herself at this moment, but potentially the entire human race.
“Sir, I...it’s going to be alright, sir. I’m a nurse. I can help you, but I’ll need to assess the injury. I need to remove your helmet in order to-“
“Please...”
Sara had entered this ship expecting to find a monster ready to frighten her. What she’d never anticipated was that the monster could be just as frightened as she was. And that’s what she heard in the spaceman’s voice: fear. He was scared. Of her. And that’s when any remaining trace of her own fear vanished. She reached down and found one of his gloved hands and squeezed it gently in her own.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. I’m going to help you. You’re safe.” With her other hand she caressed one side of his helmet and tried to imagine that she were stroking his own cheek. “You’re safe.”
He seemed to relax a bit under her touch, but that may have been from the second wave of sleep overtaking him. Sara released his hand, took a step back, took a deep breath, and began mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.
Dragging a snoozing spaceman all the way to the house was not going to be an easy task, but it was one that had to be done. As a nurse, she’d be damned if she’d let a patient, even an extraterrestrial one, die on her watch.
Sara slid her arms around the limp man’s chest and began the first chore: hoisting him out of the chair.
“Welcome to Earth.”
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Living, Learning, and Filming Ch. 10 | Connor Brashier
A/n: Sorry for the delay, work and classes have been hell the past couple weeks! But here is the second to last chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it!
Summary: it’s the first time you’re seeing each other since your date. It’s… well, it’s something.
Word count: 1.8k
***
Week 10
Filming is only easy when you and the subject are comfortable with one another. Neither of us are comfortable now. I can't look at Connor without seeing those lipstick stains on his jaw and down his chest, the way his hair was fucked from her fingers. He would have been the most beautiful I've ever seen had those stains been from me and if his hair was messed up by my fingers. But they weren't it, it wasn't, but he’s still so beautiful, and I hate him for it.
And since this is the first time we’ve seen each other since that night, I don’t think it makes things any easier. He’s tried so many times to get me to talk to him. He’s texted, called, he even showed up at the dorms once, but I didn’t let him in. He knocked and asked for me for a good fifteen minutes before he finally caved, realizing that I wasn’t going to let him in now, or ever if my heart would stop trying to control my being.
And now he's looking at me in a way that says "I'm sorry." But I don't know if he's sorry he did it or because he got caught, and I don't really want to know the answer. Because knowing would mean that he would have to explain and I can't let him explain. I can't get hurt again. Especially not by him when he holds my entire heart in his hands and just one misstep from him and it'll be completely shattered.
"So, we uh… we still have to do the interview." Connor says, picking at his fingernails.
I sigh, "I know. That's the last thing, right?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Then we just have to put them in and add a few overlays and the background music."
"I can put the clips in if you want to do the overlays. You're better at layering."
"We could do it together. I think we should both be okay with the ending before we turn it in."
"Fine," I nod. "Should we do the interview now?"
"Oh, um. Yeah, I guess. Outside would probably be better. It's kind of loud in here," he says, fiddling now with the napkin under his cup.
I nod, "Lighting isn’t great here either. Let's go."
The wind is cold, hitting us hard when we walk out of the cafe and I immediately regret leaving my jacket in my car. I wrap my arms around my middle, curing into myself as we walk down the street to the small cluster of trees that I don't really consider a park, but the city does. I don’t realize I’m shivering, curling even more into myself until I feel something heavy covering my shoulders.
“You look cold,” he mutters.
“No, Connor,” I start to protest, but he stops me.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Promise.”
I sigh, “Thank you,” I mumble before slipping my arms through the sleeves.
It’s difficult to get the camera set up with the uneven ground, but we find a rock that gives us just enough height to keep the tripod from moving too dramatically with the wind. “You ready?” I ask after fixing the settings to accommodate the harsh light the clouds are casting over Connor’s perfect facial features. It’s rude that he can be my whole life - the only thing occupying my thoughts on any given day - and I want so badly to hate him. I want to hate him and I want to be mad at him. But I can’t. I can’t do it. Because he’s sitting there under the tree and even in this light he’s beautiful and I want to kiss him over and over and never stop.
“Y/n? You okay?” he asks.
I blink, bringing myself back to reality. “Yeah. Sorry. Um… we’re recording. Full name?”
“Connor David Brashier. I’m twenty-one, and a junior here at UCLA.”
“What are some of your hobbies?”
“Surfing, filming, playing video games, and... hanging out with you.”
I clear my throat, shaking my head. That answer wasn’t necessary.
“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”
“Ten years?” He nods. “In ten years I see myself still filming. Maybe having actually directed a movie or music video or two. Married, hopefully. Maybe even have a kid or two, or three. Depending of course on who I’m with, if she wants kids or not. You want kids?”
“Connor,” I scold.
“What?” he smiles and my heart flutters. “It’s a general question. You want kids?”
I sigh, “Yeah, someday I might want a couple… Next question. I asked this when we started this project. You said you could see yourself falling in love,” I look down, not wanting to look him in the eyes as he answers. “So, have you ever been in love?”
“I have,” he answers instantly. “I am right now actually, and I’m looking at her right now. And she’s beautiful.”
---
“Is the lighting okay?” I ask, tugging on the sleeves of the jacket he gave me earlier.
“Lighting’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just,” he steps forward and brushes his thumb across my cheekbone. “You had an eyelash.”
I feel myself turning red, and I shiver at the contact. I want to keep him there. I want to grab his hand and keep him against me, but I don’t.
“Ready?”
I nod, “Yeah.”
“Full name?”
“Y/n y/m/n y/l/n.”
We go through the same standard questions I asked him and I know what question is next. I dread answering it.
“Last question.”
“Okay,” I look down at my hands, covered by the long sleeves of his jacket. I’m surrounded by his scent and I want to drown in it, which is how I know what my answer is going to be.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Yes,” I nod. “I am now. It’s consuming. It drives you. But it stops you too.”
He tilts his head at me. “What do you mean?”
“Suddenly things you used to do alone don’t feel as good as when you do them with that person. And when you’re not with them? It’s tourture. You want to spend every moment with them and you can’t and it sucks. It sucks because they’re not yours.”
He stops recording, I know because when he’s kneeling down in front of me, I don’t see the blinking red light behind his head. “Not yours? Y/n, I’m yours. Utterly and completely.”
“That girl from the other night said otherwise.”
He sighs, “I was hurt. You went out with Shawn. You said no and then you said yes and that hurt, baby. It hurt so much.”
“He told you?” I shake my head, “I didn’t kiss him. We had dinner and I couldn’t stop talking about you. That’s how my date went. That’s why I ended up at your place.”
“But how was I supposed to know that? You wouldn’t talk to me the same after I told you I loved you. You didn’t even tell me about your date. Shawn did.”
“Yes. He called me after he asked. He wanted to know if I was okay with it. And I wasn’t, y/n. I wasn’t but you weren’t mine and I couldn’t make that decision for you. But we’re here now. We’re on the same page. I want you, you want me. What’s the problem here?”
“The problem is that neither of us are relationship material.”
“What do you mean we’re not relationship material? You’ve read more books about relationships than anyone I know.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Connor!”
“Y/n! I want to be with you. Why are you pushing me away?”
“Because I can’t ever believe this is real if it started as a joke. Or if you’re gonna go out and fuck any girl with boobs at the first sign of trouble. I like,” I stop myself. “I love you, Connor. But this relationship would be built on lies and that’s not what I want.”
“So you’re never going to believe me? No matter how many times I say it? No matter how many nights I spend outside your door, begging you to talk to me? No matter how many times I promise you that it’s only you? That it’ll only ever be you. No matter how many times I tell you that you deserve that romance you read about? No matter how many times I promise to try and give that to you? To be the cheesiest boyfriend known to man. It’s not gonna be enough.”
“I want to believe you, Con. I do. But it’s hard right now. Maybe now just isn’t our time.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“Y/n. Please. Just… give me one more chance.” His hands find the sides of my face and I hate that I melt into his warm touch.
I sigh, pulling his hands away reluctantly. “I’ll have to think about it.”
He nods, “Take your time. But I can tell you this, I’m not going for anyone else. That night? Nothing else happened. She was kissing me-”
“Connor, don’t.”
“No, I have to make sure you know. You told me that nothing happened with Shawn. I believe you. And I need you to believe me when I tell you that nothing happened. I had her leave after you left. I didn’t want to have sex with her. Brian thought I needed a rebound, just someone to take my mind off you. But it didn’t work. It wasn’t fun being with her. It didn’t help. Baby, you’re the only one I want. I haven’t gotten over the feeling of your lips on mine since it first happened.”
I shake my head, “You have to stop.”
“What?”
“Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you. I can’t kiss you.”
“I give you permission,” he shrugs with a sheepish smile.
I laugh, really laugh. “You’re an idiot.
“But I got you to laugh. That’s a good sign, right?”
I sigh and run my fingers through his hair. “I need time, bub.”
“You called me bub. Is that a good sign?” he asks, hopefully.
I rest my forehead on his. “Connor, please.”
“I want to kiss you,” he mumbles, his lips inching closer to mine.
“I want you to kiss me.” I confirm, closing the distance. I sigh in content, and his tongue roams my mouth. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. And I don’t need the time. But that’s my heart talking. My brain still needs it, which is why I pull back. “A week.”
“A week?”
“That’s what I need. I’ll have an answer for you then.”
He nods, “C’mere.” He kisses me again and I let him, feeling warm, feeling safe in his arms once again.
***
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think of everything you’ve got
characters: detective lane wheatley, rebecca wheatley
rating: T
word count: 1.9k
warnings: allusions and references to panic attacks, and description of a panic attack, negative mother daughter relationship
notes: this isn’t what i wanted to write! but the more i rewrote it the more i wanted to write about a confrontation! am I projecting? do I need catharsis? we’ll never know! this is lightly edited so I’ll probably reread and continuously edit it because I’m a nightmare alive
She should have known.
Lane decides on a day of romance. After a kind, if uneasy, conversation over the phone with Adam-
“I don’t want you to think I’m not taking my position seriously. I am, you know? Always.”
“That’s not in doubt, Detective. There are no pressing matters to attend to. We’re seeing a lull in cases that need our full attention urgently.”
“Though you and I both know I should be training, or in the lab, or the library or-“
“And I won’t argue that. My job is to care for the needs of the team, even if I’d recommend otherwise. Take the Saturday, Detective.”
A tense pause.
“Thank you, Commanding Agent.”
Lane would swear she’d heard a huff of laughter.
“Notify us if something comes up.”
Lane decides to treat herself to a day of being loved and cared for. A day to woo the good detective.
It starts with a long walk to the lighthouse, then a trip to see Haley for a cup of coffee, a bath with a second mug of coffee, a movie marathon that will play in the background as she restores a busted casiotone found unloved and abandoned on the side of the road with an additional two cups of coffee.
She’s halfway through coffee number three when she hears the knock.
Lane isn’t paranoid by nature. In fact, some would say she’s overly trusting. The way she cannot help but squash her face against the peephole with abject discomfort at the sound of a rapping at her door is new, and stands out in the way that it feels unnatural. She’d never had a reason to fear before.
In this moment, the new habit is one that she’s grateful for. Standing so tall with her shoulders squared so straight, stoicism and edge in equal, unsettling measure right outside of her apartment door is Rebecca. Fuck, actually.
Lane is wearing a ripped t-shirt from a pizza place in the city and paint stained utility overalls. She is winded from brushing the dust from individual keyboard keys. She is hyperaware of how sweaty she probably is, and that her apartment may look like a mess because it absolutely is one.
A showdown with Agent Wheatley was not on her agenda.
To not answer the door would be the obvious maneuver. Crouch down, not unlike a gargoyle and wait out the danger until it’s safe to move again.
The wonder of why Rebecca is here in the first place is a jarring thing.
It hasn’t been the most comfortable situation; constantly rebuffing her attempts at motherly affection. In all honesty, it’s been harrowing in just how awkward it’s made Lane feel.
She doesn’t know what was expected of her. Rebecca has made it painfully obvious over the years. All twenty seven of them. No calls, rare visits, stunted conversation, general lack of interest. Lane can read a room.
Rebecca is not her mom. She wasn’t when Lane needed her to be, she’s certainly not going to reap any of the benefits of Lane’s company now. That ship sailed.
Yet here she is, again, waiting dockside.
If there’s an emergency, surely she would have called. Surely someone else would have been instructed to call. It’s got to be something benign. Something uncomfortable. Lane could ignore this. She could ignore this and get away with it. She could and should ignore this.
Weighted moments pass. There’s a decision made and a plan already enacted to wait this out.
Lane unlocks and opens the door.
There’s a disconnect between the woman, posturing and severe in the peephole and the slight woman wearing mom jeans and the lines of a worried frown etched so deeply in her face who stands nearly hunched before her. Chalk it up to perspective. There’s a realization that no one has said a word and seconds are passing between them.
“May I come in?”
“You’re wearing jeans.”
“I am wearing jeans.”
“I didn’t know you owned jeans.”
Barely the quirk of a brow. “Some of the more delicate aspects of my private life should remain as such.”
It’s horrid and hilarious that Lane almost remembers her this way. Dry wit. Photographs of a woman who looks like her, wearing jeans. A man she cannot recognize in the countless stories she’s heard from neighbors and friends. These images and ideas of people who were her family. Ghosts.
Lane steps aside, allowing Rebecca to pass.
It doesn’t escape her, the way she assesses the space. It’s not the first time she’s been around, but the mess is new. A shuffle of furniture. Decisions to change everything made in the clawing heat of panic.
“Is something wrong?” The effort to keep impatience out of her words seems too pointed to be professional.
“I thought I’d say hello while I was close by.”
“Interesting.” There’s ease in familiarity. The breaths they take are short and punched, the taciturn ebb and flow of their understanding each other. There’s nothing polite about it and it hangs over them like a storm ready to crack open. Somehow it’s easier.
Lane wishes Rebecca had worn a suit. There is something clinical and apart about her when she wears a suit. A silhouette and an authority. Now, she’s a mother wearing jeans, with shaking hands. It’s real, that she’s here—that she’s around. It’s not supposed to be real. A drop-in from Mom isn’t supposed to level her this way. Was finding out that vampires existed this much of a revelation? She cannot remember now.
“Well, hello to you, too. As you can see I’ve got a lot going on.” Lane gestures, vaguely. “I should get back to it, so-“
“Do you need help?”
“Absolutely not,��� she says it before realizing it might be cruel. Rebecca winces in a way that suggests that the suits may be the secret to her armor, after all. It’s a separate jarring thing that Lane is nearly desperate to get her out of the apartment after barely minutes.
“Look, it’s just-“ she breaks off with a heavy sigh bringing her hands to the back of her neck, gripping. “It’s my day off. I don’t want to think about work-“
“We don’t need to talk about work-“
“No.” It’s a hard line. It’s heavy in her mouth. Lane does not hold grudges. They’re exhausting and you’d give yourself less ache clinging to a barbed wire with both hands.
“I’m tired,” Lane says because it’s true in so many ways.
“Me too,” Rebecca replies and, yes, she can believe that.
This is exhausting.
“You came to say hello and then, what?” She drops her hands. “What did you want?” What do you want from me goes unsaid, again and again.
Shifting from foot to foot in the most unprecedented display of visceral uncertainty, Rebecca looks unfathomably human.
“I just want to be your Mom,” she says quietly, pleadingly, and it’s frightening—the way that Lane’s vision goes near completely white for a moment. It’s a blistering anger and her blood rushes like a rapid tide. It’s a thin sheet of ice cracking over a rolling current. She thinks she kicks a wall. She doesn’t remember.
“You can’t be!” And Lane doesn’t mean to shout. She hates feeling this way. There’s a helplessness that accompanies rage—surrendering to it doesn’t feel like a choice. Only a realization, after the fact. It’ll be disappointing to Lane, later, that her years of carefully cultivated numbness were completely dismantled by a quick check-in from Rebecca.
“Why not?” Is shouted back, like guiding breath to a lone ember. Lane begins to pace, taking short strides.
“You don’t get to choose between the child and the twenty-seven year old, you know? You didn’t choose me, then. The time, and time again of then, you didn’t call, you let me think that I—a child—meant nothing. I had to work on healing from that. I think I did an alright job.” She’s rambling. Rebecca looks about two feet tall. It hurts. It feels like she’s going to be sick but she cannot stop.
“I ended up just like you. Sometimes I think I recognize you because of that. Sometimes, I missed you so much, I couldn’t breathe.” She blinks against the burn in her eyes. Rebecca has stepped toward the door. She looks afraid. Wounded. Ready to bolt.
“I still feel like the kid standing in the middle of the street, screaming for my Mom—I still have to feel that way!” Stop shouting. Someone’s going to come check on you. You’ll have nothing to say, no way to explain yourself. Lane swallows around the pit in her throat.
“But I don’t-” she tries. “I don’t miss you. I don’t know you. I let myself be happy. You—who chose—you have to live with that.”
The paleness and thinness of Rebecca’s skin is suddenly alarming. Lane feels like a monster. Guilt coils around her in thick tendrils. Holding her.
“You have to understand-“
“You have to understand!” A heaving breath. “I didn’t choose. I never got that chance. I’m choosing now. You don’t want me. You don’t care about me. You want a second chance,” Lane throws her arms out. “I’m just a person.” Rebecca looks briefly like she wants to argue, but she sees it. Lane sees, with a painful, unmistakable clarity what she’d been equal parts terrified of and anticipating; uncertainty. Debate. Conflict. It’s reassuring and gutting all at once. The risk of being right has never had such high stakes.
“There’s no second chance. I’m an adult, with my own life. Seized and uprooted by vampires, literally, but a life that’s mine. That I found,” she lays a hand, gently over her chest. Her heart slams against her sweating palm. “I made this. It’s my choice, now.”
Her mother swallows hard. The visage of Agent Wheatley festers in terrible silence. It’s a croak when she speaks again. “Can I be here—in your life, at all?” It’s a plea. She’s begging. “Somehow?”
An open door is a delicate thing. Vulnerable, breachable, terrifying. Lane clenches her hands tightly into fists. She can be brave. Whatever she chooses, she can be brave.
“I need time. More of it.”
Rebecca squeezes her eyes shut. It’s wrenching. She looks so unbelievably small. This is the most like her Lane has ever felt.
“Okay.” Rebecca’s voice is quiet. It feels like a step has been taken somewhere in some direction. Just vague enough to be uncomfortable.
She goes after that, brittle, giving short nods as if she’s speaking a usual polished ‘goodbye’. The effect is lost in the sickly expression on her face.
Lane feels like she could be carried off by the wind. Her heart feels less like it’s beating than it’s throbbing in her chest, ready to burst. Water. She needs water.
Moving to the cupboards and the sink, her phone is a rattle in her shaking hands. She dials.
“Not that we don’t miss you terribly, but some of us are working, Detective.” Tina’s voice is bright, and warm and Lane realizes with new levity that her feet are still planted on the ground.
“I think I’m going to come in. You can head out for patrol once I’m there, alright?” There’s an understandable pause. A hint of palpable disappointment.
“You’re supposed to be taking a day for yourself, Lane.”
“I know. I was. I need to work.” She hopes beyond hope that Tina does not press for an explanation.
“Sure.” Hesitant, but final. Asked and answered.
“Thanks, T.” For so much more than I can say.
“Always. Haley’s date soon?”
Lane takes a gulp of water, lets the residual anger sit like a stone in her stomach.
“Pick a day. I’ll be there.”
The call ends with pleasantries exchanged. A new knot between her shoulders, and a faint queasiness accompany Lane as she gets ready for work.
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andante, andante
pairing: jungkook / oc
genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining
word count: 7,522
The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.
“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?”
“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.”
You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”
“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be.
“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head.
“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”
Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”
The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ”
He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.
You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -
i’m sorry
im so so sorry.
can we talk
please
You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.
You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.
hi jungkook i’d love to talk
are u ok
Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.
In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.
“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled.
At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.
“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs.
A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother.
The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?
“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back.
“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.”
“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you.
You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.
“Hey, cutie.”
And there it was.
Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”
A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh.
“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”
Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.
“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”
“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.
“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”
Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”
“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”
“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him.
He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.”
Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”
He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.
“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?”
“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”
He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.”
“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest.
“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”
Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”
A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so.
“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.
Then came the finale.
The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up.
Exhibit one -
“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed.
It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila.
You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.
Exhibit two -
“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in.
She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?
Exhibit three -
“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”
You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!”
“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”
You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook.
So that was that.
By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.
And finally: exhibit four.
“Hey.”
You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next.
You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?”
His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.
Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature.
“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”
Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?”
Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven.
His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.”
Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks.
Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name.
He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”
It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all.
Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms.
“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’
No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.
No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.
It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.
There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell.
Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him.
“You remember anything from yesterday?”
“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.”
“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”
“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”
Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.
“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.
/
The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.
Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head.
His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.
The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed.
You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring.
“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion.
“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”
“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”
He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”
You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.”
Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.”
You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”
He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.”
“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”
His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers.
“Not just the alcohol talking?”
“No.”
You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.
“Sor—“
“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.”
You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.
He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room.
Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right?
While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered.
There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”
The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him.
He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.
“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape.
“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.
You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead.
You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.
“Yes?”
“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed.
In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.
For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.
At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm.
And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been.
/
“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.
“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”
You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”
“Scooch over, babe.”
Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.
The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground.
Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.
“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.”
“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”
He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”
“What, where?”
“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.”
Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.
Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.
Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”
You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.”
“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”
Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”
“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”
“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.
He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?”
“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”
“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”
You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously.
“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous.
“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”
“Yeah, yeah, bye.”
/
The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.
“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”
“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”
“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”
You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath.
It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place?
“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”
You hear the voice before you see the face.
Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook.
“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point.
Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.
Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again.
“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.
It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior.
The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.
His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.
You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.
He blinks. “You … you have?”
You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”
After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.”
You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.
“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.
“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”
“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.”
“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you.
His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”
You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?”
“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.”
You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.
“How long?”
He exhales. “A while.”
“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”
He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”
“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”
At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.
Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.
Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.
“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”
A pause.
“What do you mean?”
“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”
He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”
“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”
He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”
“Should we try it?”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.
“But then it’ll be awkward.”
“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”
A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”
“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”
Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear.
“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”
If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.
But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.
He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.
Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.
“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.
In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees.
“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.”
He hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”
It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate.
The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you.
Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.
It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder.
When was the last time someone looked at you like that?
The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.
When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him.
“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper.
“I’m embarrassed.”
You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”
“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.”
“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing.
“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”
“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”
“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”
“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”
His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.”
“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.
It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”
Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”
His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.
“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”
a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99
originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33
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The Heartbreak Series
A Short Overview of Mark’s Love-life Throughout the Years
Mark-centric AU
Pairings: markhyuck, markten, yumark, renmark, jenmark, lumark, and side!johnten
word count: 3.4k+ words
written in bullet form cus I'm a lazy shit
unbetaed so read at your own risk lmao
very self-indulgent; i.e., I just really wanted to hurt Mark... sorry Mark
suggestive themes. contains swearing and mentions of alcohol, drugs, sex, and cigarettes. reader discretion is advised!
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MARKHYUCK - “The timing wasn’t right”
Mark didn’t hate Donghyuck when they first met; he just didn’t get him
Where Mark was quiet, respectful, and peace-loving Donghyuck was loud, brash, and always spoke what was on his mind without any regard to anyone’s feelings
But somehow everyone loved Hyuck and Mark couldn’t understand why
Until he took the time to properly get to know him
That was when he realized how irresistibly magnetic he was
He was funny in a crass way
And was horribly honest (for better or for worse)
He knew the best ways to rile people up but somehow always smiled his way out of any fight
And god was his smile beautiful
He made you want to be his friend with a single look
But understanding this didn’t mean understanding his own feelings (especially as a supposedly “straight” Catholic boy), so nothing truly develops between Mark and Hyuck aside from a weirdly tense friendship
Where Mark was constantly craving his attention
And Hyuck was constantly torn between giving it to him or staying away for his own sanity
They move away from each other after high school and end up in different universities so they don’t hear from each other again until years later
MARKTEN - “the mentor”
Mark was in his first year of college when he realized he might not actually be straight after all
Being away from his Catholic parents and being exposed to other types of people really helped broaden his horizons
But meeting Ten was the turning point
They kissed during a game of Truth or Dare and the next thing Mark knew was that Ten was bringing him home to his bed
The morning after a confusing but terribly pleasurable fiasco, Ten was laughing at Mark's naivety because
(1) he hadn’t left like most guys do after a one night stand and;
(2) Mark was a cuddler when he was drunk off his ass
A literal octopus that pouted and whined and unconsciously sucked hickies unto exposed pieces of skin he could reach overnight
Mark tries to make sense of what happened
He thought that he and Ten HAD to be a thing now after what they had done (and they had done a lot)
Mark doesn’t really understand yet the concept of a one night stand
Ten explains to him that they don’t have to date or be exclusive (Ten just doesn’t roll that way)
They can just keep things casual between them
But poor Mark just looked so lost
So Ten takes him under his wing
Ten spends the next few months helping Mark explore his sexuality
They try different positions and different roles and even have a few threesomes with Ten’s more regular hookup: Johnny
Ten goes to great lengths to teach Mark about the wonders of hookup culture and one night stands and bars with sexy drunk men and sex full of passion but without any of the strings attached
He does all this before sending him off into the world like a chick leaving the nest
But Ten is still Mark’s favorite go-to for a long time
He just never had a chance with Ten
Not really
Especially not with Johnny always around
YUMARK - “the first heartbreak”
Yuta was Mark’s first boyfriend
He was known around the school as the problem-kid in Johnny’s year because he had skipped and flunked so many classes, has repeated his 3rd year twice
He was also notorious for his black-painted nails, devil-may-care attitude, and smoking on school grounds
He was the type of boy your parents warned you to stay away from
And he was also Ten’s go-to supply for happy pills and alcohol whenever he hosted parties at Johnny's frat house
Mark had known about him for a while
Had heard about him from all his seniors and even his batchmates
But they first meet at Ten’s graduation party when Mark was in his 2nd Year
By then Mark had been well-taught and fully immersed in hookup culture and he wanted to try his hand on someone different like Yuta
He let the older boy take him to his dorm room which smelled of weed and cheap beer
This isn't really what Mark would call attractive
But somehow spending the night with Yuta made Mark crave more than was deemed healthy
Even Ten wanted him to stay away from Yuta after hearing he had slept with him
But something about his aura made Mark fall to his knees
So they spend a few more nights together wrapped up in each other’s embrace
Yuta showed Mark things that Ten didn’t dare (and that was saying something as Ten was quite kinky himself)
Mark would probably never disclose to anyone the kind of shit he and Yuta regularly got around to doing
But one of their tamer endeavors, and one that they particularly enjoyed doing, was fucking raw while they were high or drunk
During this time their inhibitions would be completely thrown out the window and their fucking would often border on dangerous
Like fucking on the windowsill with the window wide open
Despite living on the 3rd floor
On one of those blurry nights where their vision was hazy with smoke and their throats burned from liquor, Mark blurted out that he had fallen in love with Yuta
Yuta didn't exactly reply
But he pulled him into a kiss and they didn’t speak of it again
They spent most of their free time together making out, fucking, or chilling at Yuta’s dorm with bongs and Japanese horror movies after that
They skipped classes to go on long drives to the countryside where they’d happily fuck in (and occasionally on) the car
Mark picked up smoking as a habit after having been given the task of carrying around Yuta’s lighter and lighting his cigarettes for him
The hefty metal had ‘N.YUTA’ messily carved into its body with a box cutter
And carrying it around made Mark feel useful, powerful, and gave him a sense of purpose
But he didn’t realize how dependent he was becoming or how much of his life he was slowly ruining
Mark lived in this toxic relationship believing Yuta needed him
Yuta told him that he needed him
When in reality it was actually Mark who needed him to feel alive
One day the relationship took a nosedive when Mark finds Yuta cheating on him with Winwin
Mark had never known what rage felt like until that moment
Mark cried angry tears
And he threw the metal light out the window, shattering the glass and causing Winwin to wince at the probable cost of the damage
Yuta tried to apologize but ultimately they decided that the relationship had already died months ago
They weren’t good or healthy for each other
And this was apparently just an incident waiting to happen
So they broke things off without another word
Mark has long since forgiven Yuta but only because it was in his nature to do so
But despite having uttered the words “I forgive you” he still feels the sting of heartache every time he sees Yuta and Winwin together
Because he couldn’t deny that Winwin made Yuta better than he ever could
RENMARK - “the one that got away”
Renjun was unique and enigmatic in many ways
He was smart, funny, artistic, and had a great personality, but was closed off and always kept his guard up
He made Mark want to use big words he otherwise would never use on a daily basis (like Abstentious, Deleterious, and Grandiose) simply because it made him smile
And Mark really loved his smile
Renjun would tease him for it, saying Mark probably didn't even know half the words he spewed out
But Mark could handle a few hundred blows to his ego if it meant Renjun would look at him for a few seconds longer
Following his relationship with Yuta, however, Mark just couldn’t find it in himself to ask the damn boy out
Renjun wasn’t an overly affectionate person and was stingy with skinship
But that made it all sweeter when he would lean against Mark while laughing his loud, full-bellied laugh at something Mark had said
Mark avoided smoking around Renjun because he had said once that he didn’t enjoy the smell
And he had associated cigars to his absent father
So regardless of the heavy withdrawals he experienced, Mark eventually quit smoking altogether because Renjun was less likely to recoil from a hug if he smelled more like sweat than if he smelled of burnt nicotine
Mark thought that maybe this was Renjun making him better (the same way Winwin had made Yuta better)
This made Mark think "Ah yes, he's the one"
But he wasn’t
He knew he wasn’t because of one night where Mark invited Renjun to his dorm to watch a movie over some beer and popcorn
They watched Love, Rosie, because Renjun wanted something cheesy to cringe to
They weren’t cringing though
Instead, they had the lights dimmed and the movie set to a low volume as they seriously talked about what could’ve happened if Rosie and Alex had just confessed to each other sooner
Hearing Renjun’s thoughts made Mark want to confess his love for him sooner too
And it was a little deeper into the night when Mark was on his 5th bottle and Renjun was on his 3rd that Mark found himself staring at Renjun’s side profile
He allowed himself this moment to trace the boy’s features
From the soft curve of his eyebrow down to his dainty ears and his perfectly carved out jaw that was hidden underneath a smooth expanse of unblemished skin
When Mark looked up again, Renjun was staring back
A moment passed where Mark’s heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest
And then he was leaning in and kissing Renjun on the lips
It wasn’t rough or passionate
It was slow and all-encompassing
All sighs and deep breathes before a gentle brush of parted lips
Renjun ended up on Mark’s lap, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed like he was scared to know if this was real or not
But he knew it was real because he was holding unto Mark’s shoulders for dear life while Mark held him gently by the waist
Renjun sleeps over at Mark’s that night but they didn’t go beyond soft kisses and lips against smooth skin
Mark thought it was perfect
But when Mark wakes up the next day, Renjun had left him a note on his bedside table that said
“Please, let’s not talk about last night.”
So they don’t
Because when they meet again, Jaemin was all wide smiles and sparkling teeth
“I finally got the courage to ask Renjun out, and he said yes!”
Mark tries his best to forget about his crush on Renjun because he still wanted him around and because he couldn’t ruin his friendship with Jaemin
Even if he couldn’t rest his hand on his lower back or press gentle kisses on his forehead, having him around was enough
Mark tells himself that this is enough
Seeing Renjun happy, even if it was in the arms of another, is enough
Renjun’s presence and his friendship is enough
It was Mark that wasn’t enough
MARKJEN - “the rebound”
Mark wasn’t enough for Renjun and Jeno wasn’t enough for Jaemin even when they both gave their all for the other
Mark still avoided smoking around Renjun but without the boy teetering him down his withdrawals became too hard to resist
So he allowed himself a butt or two whenever he was out, drinking his sorrows away with Jeno
Jaemin and Renjun’s relationship became their common denominator and they decided, after multiple bottles of whiskey and gin, that they should fall into bed with one another
Sex with Jeno was surprisingly rough and fast-paced
There was no love there; just calloused hands on his body and teeth marking his tanned skin
And a battle for dominance which Jeno was surprisingly unwilling to relinquish
After having been emotionally used by Jaemin for years, something snapped in Jeno that made him refuse to bend over for anyone ever again
And Mark, after having Renjun take everything he could give, was happy to let Jeno take the reigns and give it to him harder than anyone else ever did
They didn’t fall in love with one another
They never shared gentle kisses or whispered sweet things to one another
But between them bloomed a strong friendship that helped patch the emptiness in their hearts and anchored them back to the ground all the way until graduation
MARKHYUCK (2) - “it was you all along”
Of all the people Mark thought he’d meet on the bus, he didn’t expect Donghyuck to drop unto his lap (quite literally) during his commute home
After suffering multiple heartaches throughout his years in college, Mark thought himself too old to believe in fate or soulmates
He instead believed in the art that is hooking up with strangers he would meet at bars (Ten liked to call it “going back to his roots”)
(Not that Ten had any right to speak when he and Johnny were getting hitched in two month’s time)
But meeting Hyuck had him thinking that maybe fate wasn’t all just a can of baloneys
Even after Donghyuck had quite literally fallen unto Mark’s lap, he still had the audacity to get mad at the older boy for sitting in that particular seat that he could’ve fallen into without incident
And Mark could barely believe his ears at the words
Donghyuck was still just as brash and rude as he was when they were in high school
But the mischief in his eyes was aged, more mature, and less childish
Clearly, he's seen and experienced things and grown up a little
Even if it wasn't obvious
Perhaps they shared a few experiences between them?
Mark didn't have time to ponder on this as he was completely stunned to silence
Mark got up from his seat and offered it to the angry boy, who wasn’t really all that angry to begin with because he didn't know what else to do
Donghyuck was hesitant but he eventually sat down on the chair that Mark offered
It was the wrong decision though as Mark decided to stay rooted to his spot, right beside the seat, a little rigid and causing Hyuck some intense discomfort
Mark stared down at Donghyuck who was getting red from all the attention
After barking out a “what?” Mark asked the first thing that was on his mind
“Do you want to get some coffee with me?”
Of course, Donghyuck was taken aback
But the guilt of having stolen Mark’s seat and STILL acting rude despite all of that made Hyuck turn away with a blush high on his cheeks and a silent “sure” falling from his lips
The silent 'sure' that made a smile blossom on Mark’s face so Donghyuck didn’t really mind (to him, Mark was still as handsome as he remembered)
They stop by the first Starbucks they see and sit down to catch up
Mark finds out that Hyuck had just started working at the same company he and Johnny worked at
Donghyuck was also scheduled to move into the same apartment complex Mark lived in–albeit on a higher floor
Something pleasant wriggled inside Mark at the knowledge that he could potentially be spending more time with Hyuck depending on what department he'll be working in
He was pretty fucking convinced that it was fate paying him back for all the years of heartache he endured
Mark quickly offers Donghyuck his assistance for the move but the younger of the two quickly rejects, telling him that he was plenty capable of doing it on his own
Mark wanted to argue further but he feared it would scare Hyuck away, so he let it be and simply settled with buying the boy jjajangmyeon to celebrate getting his own place
They quickly become close friends after that and Mark takes Hyuck as his + 1 for Johnny and Ten's wedding
Mark decides that slow and steady was a good move for him and Hyuck
But what he didn’t anticipate happening was Donghyuck meeting Jeno at the wedding and seemingly becoming infatuated with the other boy
Mark was starting to think that life was a bit too unfair to him as he watched Hyuck and Jeno become fast friends
He wanted to scream and retaliate
And tell Jeno to stick to his lane as he was already flirting with Jisung anyway
But instead, Mark runs away wanting to spare himself another heartache
And Hyuck was left to stand there, baffled by Mark's sudden inattention
LUMARK - “it’s not me, it’s him.”
In a desperate attempt to forget about Hyuck, Mark starts sleeping around once again and meets Lucas
He was a boy his age who he likened to a giant puppy
A puppy he definitely shouldn't have met at a gay bar because he was much too kind for his own good
Lucas is as sweet to him as life is cruel
On the first night they met, Lucas had bought him a drink, danced with him on the dance floor, patted his back while he hurled into a toilet from drinking too hard, and then let him cry on his shoulder after bringing him back home (supposedly to make out so more but that didn't exactly go as planned)
A week later and Mark finds himself getting picked up after work every single day
He walks him home, regularly takes him out for dinner dates, and even asks him if he wanted to move in after his lease was up
All within a month of dating him
Once again Mark finds himself thinking that maybe Lucas is the one even if he knows very well that he didn't deserve the giant puppy
He couldn’t deny, however, that the relationship fell short
Lucas was very kind about this and asked Mark if maybe there was someone else
Technically there wasn’t
But really... there was
Because Mark couldn’t get the thought of Donghyuck out of his head
Mark blurts this out one night but hastily explains to Lucas that nothing is going in between him and Hyuck
Mark could never cheat on anyone after suffering so badly with Yuta
And Mark hasn't really been out to see a lot of his friends since he met Lucas (mostly to avoid Hyuck) so he didn't really have the time to cheat on him
He will just try harder to love Lucas as much as Lucas loved him is what Mark says
But all Lucas says in response is “I am not Donghyuck, and that's okay."
MARKHYUCK (3) - “say yes”
After the relatively peaceful breakup with Lucas (who agrees that they should at least remain friends), Mark is once again alone in the world
Mark and Donghyuck still work for the same company and still go home to the same apartment complex
But where Mark used to have Lucas pick him up and walk him home, he now had no one to spare him the uncomfortable small talk that Hyuck has insisted they have
“What happened to Lucas?”
“We broke up.”
“Oh.”
“What happened to Jeno?”
“He’s with Jisung.”
“Oh!”
Mark was clearly taken aback as he knew Jeno used to flirt with Jisung long before he even met Hyuck
Shouldn’t having them hang out make Donghyuck uncomfortable?
Just like before, Mark was deeply baffled by Hyuck’s behavior
“Is he not crushing on Jisung anymore?”
“He’s literally head over heels in love with him.”
“Then why’d you let them hang out?”
An uncomfortable silence envelops them that causes Mark to look up at Hyuck properly
“... cus they’re dating?”
Mark was confused by this
It’s true he hadn’t been with his friends in a while, completely focusing on Lucas and avoiding Donghyuck
But he couldn’t have possibly missed something this big
“I thought you and Jeno were dating? You two became so close after the wedding.”
This time it was Donghyuck who gave Mark a confused look (although his was laced with anger)
“Mark Lee you can’t be that fucking stupid! I was asking him to help me ask you out.”
A whirlwind of emotions washed over Mark as he stared at the angry boy in front of him
He found it more and more difficult to do anything BUT stare at Donghyuck; he just had that effect on him
He stared so hard that he didn’t realize they had reached their stop and that Donghyuck was getting off the bus
Mark allowed his body to move on autopilot as he helplessly followed Hyuck into their apartment building
As if he was watching his life pass by like a movie, Mark watched as Hyuck pressed (slammed) the button for his floor for him and allowed himself to be pushed out of the elevator when he had reached his supposed destination
But instead of walking to his apartment, Mark turned back around to the closed elevator and stared some more
When the elevator doors opened again to reveal one of his startled neighbors, Mark suddenly snaps out of his trance-like stupor
What the fuck was he doing out here?
As the moments before suddenly rush back to him, Mark makes a move for the elevator (even getting slammed between the doors as it was closing) to go to Hyuck’s apartment
He bangs on the door loudly, not bothering to put down his suitcase that was undoubtedly scuffing the wooden door
Donghyuck flings the door open angrily to yell at Mark but is instead cut off by the older boy’s voice
“What do you mean ask me out?”
Hyuck stared at Mark in disbelief for a moment before attempting to close the door on his face
Much to his delight and Donghyuck's anger, Mark’s reflexes were much faster than either of them knew and he easily pushes himself into the room to simply ask again
“Hyuck, what do you mean ask me out? You were going to ask me out?”
“Yes you big oaf, I was going to ask you out! But your stupidly small brain encased in that big forehead of yours decided to date Lucas before I even had the chance.”
Mark bites back a smile but ultimately fails as he backs Haechan further into the apartment
“Ask me now.”
“What?”
“Ask me out now.”
At this point, Donghyuck looks downright murderous but Mark pays him no heed as he keeps smiling down at Hyuck
“I’m not asking you out anymore, Mark Lee.”
“Then I’ll ask you.”
“No you won’t, I’ll say no.”
“Go out with me, Donghyuck.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to anymore!”
“Please?”
Hyuck stared up at the soft, pleading look on Mark’s face and feels himself crumble for a moment
So he turns away from temptation, a scowl deepening the lines on his face
Mark only follows his gaze and smiles back at Hyuck
He could see the younger boy's resolve breakaway but he also knew that Hyuck was a stubborn bitch
So finally, in a last-ditch attempt to get what he hoped will make them both happy, Mark decides to take Donghyuck’s hands in his and looks directly into his eyes
“I know I was a dick, Hyuck.. but please give me one more chance? Go out with me...”
Hyuck seemed like he was at a loss for words
The last of his dignity and his inflated ego had been chipped away and he felt like he was suddenly laid bare in front of Mark
Completely and 100% at his mercy
So instead of dignifying Mark’s begging with a response, he looks away once more and gives him a curt nod
The small affirmation, however, lights up Mark’s face and he hurriedly throws his arms around Hyuck and pulls him into a tight hug before spinning him around once (completely ignoring the shrieking it caused)
When Mark pulls away, Donghyuck's face is flushed red and he's scowling at him once more
But that didn’t dim Mark's smile at all
Instead, he asks Hyuck if he could kiss him
And Donghyuck, of course, says yes
#mark centric#nct mark#mark lee#markhyuck#renmark#markten#johnten#yumark#lumark#markjen#jeno#jeno lee#renjun#donghyuck#nct ten#wayv ten#nct johnny#wayv lucas#nct lucas#nct yuta#nakamoto yuta#nct scenarios#nct imagines#mark imagines#mark scenarios#nct mark scenarios#nct mark imagines#idk how to tag this#markhyuck au
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