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huenyang · 2 months

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pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader / genre: meet-cute, fluff / word count: 1k / notes: very self indulgent im not going to lie, if theres any spelling mistakes no there aren't

summary: after having a terrible day, the handsome stranger you meet seems to know just how to lift your mood.

The smell of coffee - the cup which was previously in your hands, now all over your shirt and the floor of the convenience store - feels like it burns on the way down to your lungs. Accompanied by the frustrated tears that sting your eyes, you almost want to sink to the ground and rip your hair out.

Today was not your day.

As if having an already stressful day and dropping the coffee you’d paid for wasn’t enough, you had bumped into someone else. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the stranger seems to want to burn himself into your brain while doing nothing at all.

Gazing up at him, you feel your eyes linger a little too long. Maybe gods are real, because this man looks like he’s been sculpted by Aphrodite herself. Good god, you wince. You don’t even know his name and you’re acting like this.

If you weren’t still stunlocked by the events prior, you would’ve made a conscious note of how his dark brown eyes widen in surprise and how his fringe looks just a tad bit too long. Or how his lips curl in a gasp.

It’s not just anybody who looks good under convenience store lighting, you reason.

“Oh my god-” he exclaims hurriedly, reaching out as if he wanted to try and save the cup from spilling. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking when I turned.”

You mumble something, it’s okay, probably. It’s like this one man has completely stolen your ability to be normal. But that’s stupid, he hasn’t done anything but apologize for running into you, like anyone with a drop of sense would.

He looks around, leaning a little to look past the many aisles and motion to the clerk that something had happened.

While he’s doing that, you crouch to finally pick up the cup you had almost forgotten while thinking about the pretty, nice stranger right in front of you.

Ew. None of that.

With a sigh, you hold the plastic carefully, trying to avoid the sticky coffee running down along one of the sides, and begin to make your way to the nearest trash can before it drips more and makes an even bigger mess for the poor employees.

It doesn’t take long for him to come back around, message delivered to the store clerk.

When the stranger talks to you again, he looks like he’s about to apologize, but you silence him with a shake of your head and a mirthless laugh.

“Man…” he sighs, shuffling his hands into his coat pockets. “At least let me make it up to you for ruining your coffee.”

You almost want to cry. Over the coffee, over this stranger who keeps being so kind to you, over everything.

“No no, you don’t have to. It’s just coffee.” but it isn’t. “I couldn’t possibly make someone else pay for my own mistake.”

Now it’s his turn to wave his hand dismissively at you, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s nothing! In fact, I insist. I think I’d like to know you better - without the coffee staining both of our shirts, this time.”

The mention of it brings you back to reality, the sticky beverage all over the front of your shirt feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds on your chest, now. You’re not sure if it’s the memory of spilling your coffee everywhere, or the air inside the store, or something else, but suddenly your cheeks feel significantly warmer. You hope the stranger doesn’t notice.

“I don’t have your name.” You say after a second of consideration. “How can I share a coffee with someone I don’t know the name of?”

The question catches him off guard, too, if the way you can see the realization dawn on his face is anything to go by.

“Choi Yeonjun.”

With a grin, you introduce yourself too. An employee with a mop and a bucket interrupts you then, saving you from an awkward conversation with the pretty stranger- Yeonjun. You both step outside, the small ding of the door opening and closing the only sound between you.

“So,” you start, shuffling your feet anxiously. “Can I have your number- for the coffee, of course.” No other reason. No other reason at all.It feels like the single beat between your question and his answer is an eternity. Maybe you sprung the question up on him too suddenly, or maybe he didn’t even mean it to begin with. But before you can think of even more reasons to go and change your identity entirely, he’s fishing for his phone and handing it to you.

“You can put yours in.” he breathes out. Maybe you’re more far gone than you thought, because it sounds almost dreamy. “I’ll put my contact in yours, too, if that’s okay?”

With shaky hands - from the cold, obviously - you quickly tap in your number, setting your own contact as your name and a little sun emoji. You can see him doing the same to his contact, his emoji choice being the fox instead.

Cute.

“We can set up a date later, whenever you’re free.” He says, handing you back your phone and tucking his own back into his pocket. “Just let me know!”

With that, you go your separate ways. On the way home, your mind wanders. It’s almost hard to believe that your shitty day turned into whatever this is. From spilling overpriced coffee you’d bought to cheer yourself up, to meeting a handsome stranger who not only offered to make up for said overpriced coffee, but also gave you his number? If this was a dream, you don’t want to wake up from it.

The dream doesn’t last long, however, because a ping rings from your phone, startling you out of your fantasy and back into reality.

You hope that the multiple people passing by you on the street don’t notice the way your face breaks into a dumb smile as you read.

From: Yeonjjunie 🦊 Hey!! Just making sure this is the right number!! haha Don’t feel pressured to pick yet btw, we can decide later

#txt x reader #txt fluff #txt imagines #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x gn reader #yeonjun soft hours #yeonjun fluff #writing tag

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1d1195 · 3 months

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Yeah it's not an option completely ruled out....I will always be open to company, like I said, I wanna make friends everywhere I go..but just for the sake of mental health I guess, its not something on my to do list, does that makes sense? But thank you, I really appreciate the hope, I feel like it's such a blessing to be a best friend as much as it is to have one 💓

Time...well I only hate it when I feel like I have wasted it...I really understand what you meant by not feeling old but feeling like you are short of time....in the hindsight I know logically I'm only 19, there is so much left, but then I'm like "Did I do the right things when I was 10, 13 or 16? Will I still get to experience that?" Its more based on "was this time spent purposefully, did it make an important impression". That's the main reason I wanna experience it all cause then I can have that proof of presence, if something good happened before, it will happen again, do not be worried, if something bad happened before it could happen again, do not be ungrateful.

Tiktok is banned in my country😭 I do check insta but only when its like super duper positive and stuff...most of youtube is filled with productive life style motivation vlogs....I miss physical books, I am a hoarder for them and I haven't read a novel in like 4 months my hands are itching, I am, though, finding good recommendations for after exams so if you have them, let me know...and please do take breaks I can't imagine how much mind power it takes to do maths all day everyday...kudos for that 🫠🙃

My week is already made with THAT TRADITIONAL ONE SHOT EICJIEOSJDIE...I died, they're my absolute favourite, she is such a sweetheart honestly and harry is gone gone for her...I feel like you portray Niall and Louis so amazingly its like they must be just like that irl, like a comfort pillow 🤏✨🫶

-🧸

I totally get what you mean about it not being on your to do list. It's hard to set out and be like, "I'm going to find my best friend today." It doesn't really work that way. You don't want to force it. So I totally get it. I've mentioned it before on here, but even though I told you about my best friend, I don't think I'm someone's best friend. I'm always second-best. Or tied. Or something. It's hard. I know you'll find someone. It's going to be wonderful 💕

You seem way wiser than I am. I'm nearly a full decade older than you. I don't think about 10, 13, 16 year old me much more. Other than she was quite sad and lonely and she would be pretty proud of me now. It's a little freeing, so maybe that's something to look forward to as well as you age. I'm sure 30 year old me will look at 20 year old me and think she was an idiot.

Fascinating about TikTok in your country. It's probably better that you focus on positivity. I am actually very negative by nature, believe it or not (#trauma) this blog is where I'm most positive. I save all my positivity and hope for you and my other followers 💕

I am reading a TERRIBLE book right now. It's extremely traumatizing and I'm only like a third of the way through wouldn't recommend it to anyone. Idk how it was a pick of the month at the bookstore (I do, it's probs really well-written) but idk why I bought it. My goal is to read all 35 books I have had sitting on my bookshelf by the end of the year so I know that hoarder life too.

The math I do is pretty basic I think. It's teaching the kids the math that make my brain hurt hahaha

I would die for any member of 1D no questions asked, but Niall and Louis would be my best friends, I'm sure. I would do anything for them and I like to believe they're similar to how I write them irl.

Glad you liked Traditional good to know they're you're favorite! 💕💕 Sorry for the long reply, I hope you're having a good day/week!

xoxo

#🧸

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starsscribble · 3 years

Text

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

“Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes.

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road.

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief.

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat.

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick.

Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on.

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead.

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young.

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive.

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him.

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face.

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick.

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder.

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine.

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken.

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together.

The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know.

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids.

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home. Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit.

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion.

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind.

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended.

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time.

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed.

He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world.

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

#walking dead #walking dead imagine #walking dead x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes angst

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell #england national team imagine #chelsea imagine #footie fic #football fic #footballer fic

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

congrats on 2k followers!!!!!! you're such a wonderful person and you deserve to be celebrated! for the emoji fic fest i'd like to send in the following emojis for raleigh becket: 😚☂️💦

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats and kind words! 💗

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Under My Umbrella

Pairing: Raleigh Becket x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, random silly song references, Raleigh being a big dorky softie but also (shockingly!?) down to fuck immediately Word Count: ~1.6k Emoji Prompt: 😚☂️💦 (key words are in bold)

The breach is closed. The war is over and he saved the world and everybody knows.

And that’s the problem. Raleigh Becket doesn’t like the way the spotlight overcomes him. Light he never chose, so blinding as it glows. The way the masses flock like moths drawn to the halo set above him and blindly believe they love him. That’s not love—they know of what he did to save the day when push came to a cataclysmic shove, but truly they know nothing of him.

It’s a shame to live in fame. Beneath the shadow of his own overblown name. He doesn’t have the massive ego, to embrace the role of hero, to indulge when strangers scream after him everywhere he goes. He worries that his life won’t ever be the same.

That was what drove him to this small town tucked away and hid, a little off the grid—and he’s felt better ever since he came. He’ll never be completely unknown, but at least the crowds are tame, and leave him well enough alone. He’s so alone lately it’s almost lame.

He likes it that way though. Likes his routine of waking up and waiting at the bus stop, working at his humble job. The pay is low. Even more so when business is slow. And Raleigh savors the simplicity, the contrast to the constant flash of cameras when he was recently living in the city. Even the weather helps his cause by often shrouding this small town in rain and snow.

He’s the new golden boy in town you haven’t met. You’ve heard the rumors of a cutie who just moved here but you haven’t crossed paths yet. When you hurry to the bus stop this fine morning, find yourself caught in a downpour without warning… that’s when you finally set eyes on Raleigh Becket. Suddenly the rain is not the only thing getting you wet.

You would have made sure to bump into him much sooner had you known that this is what your ass was missing. Even when his mane is damp-darkened by the rain you can still tell he’s got a bright blonde head of hair. Big eyes as blue as the Pacific and deliciously pink lips just made for kissing. You could swear, you’ve seen his face somewhere… but even if you hadn’t you would still shamelessly stare.

You’d missed the forecast so arrived at the bus stop without an umbrella in hand. The golden god has one but you do not want him to think you’re staring at him as a hint that he should share it with you; that’d be a bitchy thing to do, to make such a passive-aggressive demand.

From Raleigh’s end—once he’s calmed himself down after reacting to the most beautiful girl who’s ever come around the bend—he clears his throat and clumsily invites you now to join him where he stands.

“Y-you can stand under my umbrella.”

He just says it with no introductory words. You find it cute as fuck that he’s so awkward. It’s a good thing too, given the awkward vibes uncontrollably coming off of you. “–ella, ella…”

You had just murmured it quietly… then bitterly regret that shit immediately. Cursing yourself silently for your idiocy. Maybe the poor guy doesn’t even know this reference to a song from the 2000s or whenever it was.

But apparently he does. The next thing that he bashfully goes on to say: “… ey, ey, ey.”

Suddenly all your insecurities about your stupid sense of humor fade away. All you can think about is standing under his umbrella and hopefully sitting on his cock later today.

***************

This bastard smells so fucking good it isn’t fair.

Can probably hear you breathing him so deep but you don’t even care. Standing beside this total stranger you have never felt such comfort anywhere. That subtle clean scent of simple unscented soap… mixed with the warmth of honeycomb and home and hope… cinnamon sugar muffins, sweet and soft and fresh out of the oven. Smells so wholesome you can’t cope.

You want to say something but don’t even know what. After a few seconds of silence steal another glimpse up at his gorgeous face and have to stop yourself from moaning like a slut.

… That’s when it hits you who he is. You were too caught up in his beauty that you hadn’t even realized who this hero truly is.

And Raleigh senses it the moment that you recognize—picks up on that familiar jolt of such starstruck surprise, that makes him feel like he’s an object for a sea of prying eyes. Less of a person, more a prize. It kind of hurts him, as he wishes he could meet a pretty girl and flirt a little bit, without his reputation far preceding him and getting in the middle of it. Wishes he could carry on like all the ‘normal’ guys.

Then he remembers he’s an awfully shitty flirt. That helps a little with the self-pitying hurt.

You gather up your fallen jaw to ask him the obligatory question as it’s naturally the only thing to do. “Are you…”

But then you pause—notice the shadow fall across his gaze of blue—you hate to think you were the cause. You can’t begin to process all his thoughts and what he’s been through, but you understand on some level that just because the whole wide world regards him with applause, that doesn’t mean you have to stand here and remind him that it’s true.

And so instead you just finish the sentence with something painfully dumb. The words just come, because all two of your brain cells are doing their usual stupid dance. “… are you into piña coladas by any chance?”

The sadness in his gaze fades a bit as he casts you a curious glance.

You backtrack to explain your silly words. You’ve referred to a super old song yet again, even older this time and he might not get it so you have to explain. You feel so fucking awkward. “I–I just thought that maybe since we’ve already gotten caught in the rain… we could work backwards…”

Before you can carry on with your explanation, Raleigh’s blushing face lights up in realization. His adorable pink cheeks flush red. “Oh my God I’m so sorry that went right over my head!”

He’s so fucking precious you can’t even stand it. Too cute to be true. You laugh off what you’d said and just shoot the shit, for a few minutes—or more than a few—till the two of you realize the bus isn’t coming and that you are stranded.

“Well, I guess I’ll just call in sick today.” He shrugs but shocks himself a little bit ‘cause that was not at all a Raleigh thing to say. He’d never lie about his reason for an absence from the job. Yet he might have to, if he hopes to carry on chatting with you, all day here under his umbrella at this lonely little bus stop.

“Me too,” you coo, smiling up at this wholesome heartthrob, then nervously shuffling your feet and looking out into the steady sheets of rainfall that surround you. Wondering whether or not he took the hint that you were asking him out on a date with that piña colada thing. You hope he didn’t; if he had gotten the hint, he isn’t answering.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, he picks up on your anxious energy and hits rewind. “Back to your piña colada question—I’ve, uh… actually never had one.”

Your heart perks up in happiness based on the promise in his tone. The promise that the two of you won’t have to spend this rainy day alone. The next words out of your mouth are a little flirtier than they should be maybe, but he’s such an innocent baby, that you just can’t help but have a little fun. “I’d bet there are a lot of things you’ve never done…”

Blue eyes go wide as if your insult was obscene. But Raleigh can’t stay mad at such a pretty girl. “What’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know I saved the fucking world!”

And just like that he’s fucking told you—even though his tone is playful it’s still true—and though you obviously knew, he finds he’s no longer compelled to hide that part of him from view. The way he always used to do. As if he knows that you want all of him and not only the surface-level shit, as if you see into him more than just a little bit, whereas the rest of the world sees right fucking through.

He knows that you only just met, so maybe it’s too early to be feeling shit like this but he’ll take any glimpse of hope that he can get.

You take his hand and feel his pulse in sync with yours as your hearts race. Pure fucking joy. “C’mon golden boy, I know just the place.”

The place for his first frozen pineapple coconut drink. The place for his first indulgence in a new fucking kink: screwing someone he only just met in the bathroom of this little diner and whispering filth in your ear as he rails you so hard that the force of it might break the sink.

Through all the purity of Raleigh there is definitely something fucking dirty and you caught it from the first blink. Now you’ve gone and stirred it up in him turns out he’s even dirtier than you would ever think.

You standing under his umbrella was the start; you lifting him out of the shadows over his head sparks a new light in his heart. And you awakening new sides of him is honestly the sweetest fucking part.

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod @midnight-dreams-23

#charlie hunnam #raleigh becket #pacific rim #charlie hunnam smut #raleigh becket smut #pacific rim smut #charlie hunnam imagine #raleigh becket imagine #pacific rim imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #raleigh becket fanfiction #pacific rim fanfiction #raleigh becket x reader #raleigh becket x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #emoji fics

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cower-before-power · 3 years

Text

Slippery When Wet: Part 2

Summary: An untimely accident in the shower leaves you injured and in need of rescue. Lucky for you, the object of your affections is more than willing to help.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, nudity, implied sexual content, description of injury (nothing graphic), unintentional voyeurism? (idk i mean like voyeurism in the name of helping i’m not sure how to say it ha), lots of dick talk, prolly really bad sex jokes

Link to A03 here

PART 1 HERE

A/N: First of all, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED, REBLOGGED AND COMMENTED ON PART 1. You are all amazing, I am so glad you are enjoying this silly little venture Gojo has dragged me on. Again, thank you so much to @ghost-party for her beta skills, you da best! I hope Part 2 makes you all happy :) please enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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You shouldn’t look. Not because you don’t want to, but if you do you’ll know what is absolutely not warming your bed at night and then you’ll probably just feel worse. But, you were overwhelmingly curious. Just a quick look couldn’t hurt.

Right?

You peek through your fingers, just at his upper half. The sight makes you curse softly under your breath. Of course he’s absolutely beautiful out of clothes, did you really expect anything less?

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll get dressed,” he says, “just thought this would help you out.”

Help you out? Good grief this is going to be the star of your late night fantasies for months. Because instead of dreaming it up, you now have the real thing to recall.

“No,” you take a deep breath and drop your hands. “I’m fine.”

Are you though? He’s built to perfection, checking off all the boxes on your “Things I find physically attractive” checklist. You marvel at this long column of his throat, sweeping down into a set of collarbones that would make models die of envy. His chest is hairless (did he wax or was it just naturally that way?), miles of smooth skin and muscle that your fingers were just itching to trace.

Your eyes trail down past his stomach, briefly cataloging the very nice set of abs, before settling on what you were the most curious about.

The snort of laughter escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Excuse me, did you just look at my dick and laugh?” He asks accusingly, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle at the disgruntled expression on his face. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered if the carpet matched the drapes since I assumed you dye your hair. Guess I was wrong.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru visibly deflates.

“That’s what you’ve thought about?” His voice is full of frustrated disbelief. “My pubic hair?”

You can’t stop giggling. “You can’t blame a girl for being curious! Are you sure you shouldn’t get rid of it though? Doesn’t the white make people think they’re boning an old man?”

“The utter disrespect,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I can assure you that is the last thing on their minds when I’m working my magic.”

You wonder why you aren’t feeling more flustered. The fun and teasing atmosphere feels almost refreshing after the intense back and forth that was just occurring.

“What, you casting spells for dry weather?”

“Oh, you are evil!” He moans, then looks down at himself. “Don’t listen to her, big guy. You know what you can do.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t talk to it,” you roll your eyes, trying not to grin. “And don’t oversell the merchandise. It’s average, at best.”

(It isn’t. It’s probably the nicest looking one you’ve ever seen. But him and his astronomical ego do not need to know that)

Gojo grabs his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “Ouch! Shots fired, target annihilated!”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you sigh. You wonder if he notices the quiet fondness in your voice.

He opens his mouth as if to retaliate, but then suddenly shuts it. A look comes over his face as if he’s just remembered something very interesting and important.

“Hey,” he says, and you watch his mouth spread into a smile. “You said you’d wondered if the carpet matched the drapes. That means you definitely imagined me naked at least once.”

And your blush is back.

“What of it?” You huff, cross your arms and looking away. “It’s only natural. I’ve thought of lots of people naked.”

“Do you ever imagine sleeping with me?”

The question causes you to choke on your breath.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

You take a look at him, standing naked and unashamed in front of you. His smile is different; there’s a sultry edge to it you’ve never seen before.

“Maybe inquiring minds should stuff it,” you stick out your tongue. Immature, but he’s got you feeling all funny now.

“Well, I’ve thought about it,” he says. “I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Your heart misses a beat in your chest.

“You have?” Your voice squeaks as you force the words out.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” He asks, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You consider the question. You’ve got insecurities, but you know you are a decent looking person. And despite his flightiness about many things, Gojo has actually never given you the impression that he’s shallow in that way.

“I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I guess I just never considered the possibility that you were interested in me in that way.”

He sighs. “Pumpkin, I’m not blind. You are stupidly attractive. Every time we’re out in Tokyo you’ve got a million guys and gals staring at you.”

“I just always assumed they were staring at your and your stupid blindfold,” you scrub at your cheeks with your palms, trying to rid yourself of some of the perplexing confusion you feel swirling inside you. “How come you’ve never made a move?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

You want to shout at him, to say of course yes a thousand times yes, but you pause. You realize you’ve never given him any signals, any hint that he was more than just your often annoying friend. Sure, you blushed at his silly flirting, but so did lots of people.

You shift back through your interactions, all the missions, the late night hang outs, the strolls through the city. Nowhere can you find any instant where your ever expanding feelings might have risen to the surface. But still, would your seeming indifference deter him? He was a very self assured man, after all.

“You have confidence coming out your ass, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t make a move anyways, just to see,” you say instead.

His whole demeanor softens. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.”

Oh.

OH.

And you know exactly what he means. It’s why you’ve never said anything, why you forced your desires deep down into the pit of your being when in his presence.

It seems even the strongest shaman could be afraid of something.

“It’s not just about fucking, is it?” You ask, feeling your whole body start to tremble.

“It was never just about fucking,” he replies, and it’s like the universe explodes before your very eyes. “Why do you think I spend all my free time with you?”

“To annoy me?” You croak feebly. “To eat all my snacks? To enjoy torturing me by spoiling the end to every movie we watch?”

He chuckles. “Just side bonuses. Being with you is the real prize, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” you whisper, and your brain whirs like an overworked laptop. You’re having trouble processing that this is actually happening, that the man you’ve been pining after for what feels like forever is really standing there, confessing his own feelings.

Buck ass naked.

“You’ve got two options right now,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, and you shiver at the dominant aura that suddenly swirls around him. “Either I get dressed and we put today behind us, or I come over there and kiss you until you can’t remember your own name. Make your choice.”

Was there even a choice? There was only one option. A slow, warm feeling blooms in the middle of your chest and spreads outwards, dousing your whole shaking body in molten yearning. It’s not a new feeling, but the sensations are different. Because now you can give in to it.

“Kiss me,” you blurt out, breathless and giddy. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

A flash of a savage grin, the soft thump of footsteps and then you are numb to everything but him.

He tastes like sugary coffee and chapstick, lips hard and hot against yours as he kisses you like he’ll die if he stops. He’s everywhere at once, in all your senses, drowning you in his onslaught of desirous fervour. It’s not a timid kiss of new sweethearts; it’s a passionate embrace of long overdue lovers.

Your hands run over every inch of him they can reach, mapping the ridges and valleys of his exposed skin. His own slip beneath your shirt to spread across your back, crushing you to him with a grip of iron. It’s not enough; you want them everywhere, you want him everywhere, until he’s branded onto your body. Until you no longer know where you end and he begins. Until he’s sunken himself into your very bones.

You need to breathe- you pull away with a gasp, one gossamer thread of saliva lazily trailing after you.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You pant, digging your nails into his arms. He’s unwilling to keep his mouth off you, now pressing scalding kisses along your jaw.

“Blame it on mutual stupidity,” he sighs into your skin, teeth slightly grazing the spot just below your ear. “Let’s make up for lost time, eh?”

“I’m game,” you say, a soft whine leaving your lips as he works steadily on what is sure to become a bruise.

“Good,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue across the blossoming mark before leaning back to smirk at you. “Have to make you take back all your snarky comments about me and my game.”

You giggle. “Oh, so you’re saying it won’t be as dry as a desert ‘round here?”

“Well let me just check tonight’s weather report,” he laughs, grinning cheekily as he slips a hand down between your legs, brushing gently over the front of your underwear. You bite your lip, grip on his biceps tightening.

“Ladies and gentleman, we’re in for a wet night,” he says in what you assume is his best weatherman voice. “Expect a great deal of precipitation, more so than what’s already accumulated. Perhaps we’ll even see some flooding. We’re talking possibly record setting levels here.”

You snort with laughter, pushing at him slightly. “You are such an idiot. Just shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, I intend to put my mouth in a lot of different places,” he removes his hand, snapping the elastic band of your underwear against your hip as he goes. “I know I just got you into these, but shall I undress you now?”

“Yes please,” you nod eagerly, already wiggling out of your shirt. He quickly helps remove the offending garment, but in all the lust and excitement you’ve forgotten about your shoulder, and you moan in pain when you jostle it.

“Owwwwwwie, stupid shoulder!”

“Shhh, pumpkin,” Gojo coos gently, leaning down to pepper the area with kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

You feel yourself melt at the sudden tender display, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his luscious hair as he continues to smother your bruised shoulder in affection. “You already are, Satoru.”

The first name slips out unexpectedly, but you like the way it rolls off your tongue. He seems to as well, judging by the pleased noise that rumbles from his chest.

“Well, allow me to continue then,” he purrs, and his lips leave your shoulder to capture yours in another toe curling kiss. You press yourself to him, the feel of his bare skin against yours sending a thrill shooting down your spine.

An idea suddenly pops into your head.

“I never got to finish my shower,” you break your kiss to speak, looking up at him under your lashes.

He catches on immediately, his smile once again turning primal. It makes your knees weak and your gut clench in anticipation.

“Maybe you should help me, since I’m injured and all,” you push yourself even closer to him, shivering at the feeling of his not-so-average excitement pressing against your belly.

“Hmmmm, I could do that,” he’s already got his fingers hooked in your underwear, slowly starting to push them down your hips. “But what if you slip again?”

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” you wink at him. “With your dick.”

He roars with laughter, and your heart has never been more full.

“Oh, I’ll do more than just catch you, pumpkin,” he growls playfully, and before you can blink he’s rid you of your bottoms and swept you up into his arms. “I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”

You reach up to kiss him as he pounds towards the bathroom, your blood on fire and only one thought in your head.

Bless that stupid, slippery, wonderful bar of soap.

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Taglist: @satorudicks @sara-nyaa @dixonsbugaboo @fandomtrash100 @oikusa-snow @okemis @kuxredere @mylittleteddybear @the-fandoms-georgie @inaflashimagine @crapimahuman @elenapri0502 @fragments-of-aria @bollywoodghoul @wrdro @kiasnotforever @disregardedbymybias @lavihs @euniartsu @satjsstuff @lycorizzz @fushigurosimp @levisbrat1 @bxstboy-tetsu @one-leaf-grimoire @glxar (sorry i just tagged everyone who asked and commented haha, bold means I couldn’t tag you sorry!)

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk anime #my writing

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toiletwipes · 3 years

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter eight. saturday, wait.

Summary: Will is waking up and smelling the roses, coming to grip and accepting that you're a huge comfort to him, though you seem to be in the middle of your own silent debacle.

ao3. ~1.7k. masterlist.

---

he wasn’t awake but he wasn’t asleep. in that middle part where it’s a floating feeling, as if you’re being lowered back into your bed after a night of flying dreams. not that he dreamt of flying, most dreams were incoherent and oftentimes, forgotten.

but he comes to as he tunes into the sounds of the waking world. a radio playing in the background, dishes clattering amongst other things, a soft voice humming, and feet shuffling against the wooden floorboards. and rolling in the soft, warm blanket, he finds himself reaching out beside him, looking for something, or someone, as his arm meets an almost cold space. as if someone had been long gone. taking a sniff, he doesn’t recognize the smell on the blankets or pillows and he begrudgingly opens the first eye, twitching till both of them are open fully.

it’s your bedroom, and the light is peaking in through the corner but your door is closed, as if someone had closed it after leaving him alone.

closing his eyes, he takes the moment to just cherish the way his bones melt in your mattress, sinking into the welcomed feeling.

and as the moment slows down and time seems to stop, he hears the front door slam and rosie’s voice echoing against the walls. “you won’t believe the shit that i had to go through this morning, guys.” guys? his curiosity peaked and then, as he looked the camera on your dresser in the eye and then the one tucked by the clutter in the corner, he decides he has to get up.

it was just the three of them when they got home- when they got here, wasn’t it? they hadn’t picked anyone else up, you were exhausted by the time you two entered the dorm.

had rosie invited someone over in the time you were gone? or, seeing as she just arrived, had she invited someone before she left? questions running through his head without so much as an answer for any of them, he tries to leave your bed before he’s shackled to the damn mattress with doubt.

tripping over his own shoes, he fumbles with getting a hold on anything before breathing heavily, and attempting to control it.

when he feels like he’s failed, he kicks the shoes away from him and out of the way, feet scuffling against the floor as he pulls the door open slowly, as if he didn’t want to be discovered leaving the room.

also failed at that.

“morning, will, you’re just in time for breakfast!” you cut off whatever rosie was ranting about, smiling at him as you wash some dishes from cooking whatever it was. seemed to be eggs and sausage and the bag of questionables rosie was holding in her tight hold, anger unknowingly festering.

rosie absently pulls out a chair next to him and waves him a hello.

he wants to tell his heart not to go wild at her actions but it’s already racing ahead, sitting himself next to the one girl he wants and tries to pay attention. and then someone sneezes behind him.

twisting his neck, he finds jared from the other day, curled under the thinnest blanket they had available, and his hair fashionably disheveled. not unlike how most actors wake up in a movie, he notes, as he turns back around with a wave of his own, acknowledging him.

jared. when did he get here?

“-so i’m telling this woman, who by the way has a tattoo of that baby from cloudy with a chance of meatballs on her wrist, you can’t just eat in here, this is the dressing room. and she has the audacity to tell me i’m not an employee so i don’t “have any authority” well, you should’ve seen her face when i brought the manager back there. they almost called the police because she was refusing to stop eating there. you should’ve seen it.” rosie finishes her story up as you begin to serve everyone, saving yourself for last as you lean against the counter, watching the two seated with careful eyes.

will swallows the first bite down with relative ease, and so do the bites that follow, eyes taking glances to rosie, who’s looking at her phone. and when he finishes, he moves to go wash it, ending up next to you, and you, you’re not even bothered, shoving an elbow in between his ribs as you give me a playful smile.

“hey, jared, don’t forget, we have to go pick up your mother!” rosie turns around to remind said college student, who groans and turns to smush his face into the couch, as if the couch absorbing him will save him from such a horror.

“why did she have to come visit now? it’s been barely a month!” will blinks, has it really? he turns to you as if asking you will confirm it, but you seem just as taken aback. both of you seemed to have lost time, but rosie seems confident in her time.

“yes, now get ready, i won’t wait for you, i do have to stream today,” she tells him as she swings off the seat, grabbing one of his surprisingly toned arms, and yanking on it.

he immediately whines, rubbing at his shoulder as he tried to bat her away, but she’s getting him on his feet, pushing him towards her room as she rolled her eyes. grabbing her keys, she tossed a hand up, waving as she passed them by, “i’ll be right back.”

silence sits for a few minutes as you two process what happened. and then he feels a burning gaze he doesn’t know if he wants to meet.

will swallows down something, not any of the egg or sausage, and turns to your prodding eyes, almost as if you’re looking for something inside of him, not particularly at him.

then pulling back, and turning around to wash your own dish, you bite your lips as if you mean to say something. but you end up putting your dish up and then turn to him with a smile he didn’t recognize, asking him if he didn’t mind doing homework with you.

and, well, he was in the same boat, but he didn’t exactly have his computer.

“my, my uh laptop is back at home, but otherwise i wouldn’t mind!” he answers, mind too scrambled from rosie next to him that he doesn’t know if they make any sense, and you nod.

“did you want to pick it up or did you want to be dropped off, or we could also go somewhere else entirely, just- it’s too early for me to make decisions,” you smile as you walk over to the couch, slipping some slippers on as he almost follows you, brain still ticking at a slow speed.

but he ends up making a decision, and as much as it’s a bad one, he can’t help but want to be back in his home and you make it yours like you’ve done everywhere you’ve been.

rubbing his palms as he thinks on it make him realize how sweaty they’ve gotten, so he pats them on his pants as he begins to speak, “well- what if we did our work at my place? i mean it would be much easier to do so, don’t you think?” he says, as if you were planning to decline his kind offer.

it lifts the edges of your eyes in your smile a little as you accept, moving past him with a mumbled sorry as you head back to your room, pulling out a backpack from behind the door. you grin as he gets his shoes, and as you two descend the stairs, you pass rosie and he notices the distinct smell on her and the smile she gives you two is different from the one five minutes ago.

“without me?” you joke as you call from the bottom of the second floor and she only laughs, and he knows. after all, it wasn’t that unfamiliar of a smell.

and then you’re running down the steps to the bottom floor and happily striding to your car, unlocking it and giving him a sliver of your smile, of your happiness.

though you don't see it getting in the car, he smiles to himself.

“to your apartment?” you say as you tuck your backpack in the back seat and he nods, leaning into the seat as you peeled out of the lot, turning the radio on as the sun slowly makes its way up into the sky.

the time passes by fast enough that he finds himself wondering if he had any trash in there as he was unlocking the door. it turns out not that dirty and you immediately sit yourself on the couch, pulling out your computer and asking for the wifi password.

and getting his laptop was the easy part. it’s taking the seat beside you, angling his body sideways as his laptop sits on his lap, unsure what will happen. he had closed it on the footage of you. with the sound on.

trying to breathe a regular amount, he opens it and immediately hits the mute button, watching as the screen lights up with the mute on and the image of your bedroom with rumpled blankets on them. just how you left them.

exiting the program, he pulls his classes up and internally screams at how much his professors hate him. and the time slips you two, typing fills the room and when it hits noon and you put your computer to the side, you ask where the bathroom is.

the real mess is in his room and he wonders if it's too much to ask to drive you to piss elsewhere, and that’s when he abandons all thoughts and just leads you through his bedroom, apologizing for the mess, and thanking whoever is in charge that it wasn’t as bad as he remembered.

sitting on his bed with his hands in his pockets, he wonders how much longer he’ll be glued to his computer till the workload diminishes completely when you open the door. you wipe your wet hands on the cloth on the sink counter when you turn completely to him.

“hey, will, can i ask you something?” you speak, and though you sound out of the blue, like you didn’t know that you were speaking yourself until you heard your voice, he nods, watching you and feeling like nothing bad could happen right now.

you were probably going to say that you’ve clogged the toilet with a huge shit, or something-

“do you like rosie?”

holy shit.

...

taglist: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @ollie-overscore @marinaloveswomen @roygbivvie @beehive-syst3m @boiled-onionrings @mayempress @bringm3th3n1rvana @yui-san0 @comonlokbut2 @lurkey-lurker

#c: simpbur #simpbur #simpbur x you #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #mcyt au #au: band #au: college

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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#sapnap smau #smau #mcyt smau #sapnap x you #sapnap x reader #sapnap x y/n #sapnap series #129 days #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #sapnap fluff

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hxt1b · 3 years

Text

Why Can’t We? - Extended

Masterlist

Jaehyun x Reader

WC: 4.2k

Genre: Angst (YouTuber Reader x Idol Jaehyun)

Warning: Smut and Swearing

Original Post: Why Can’t We?

A/N: Hey thank you so much for the love on the original little blurb I wrote. I decided to write an extended version of it for you guys. I hope you like it! If you haven’t read the original I’ve linked it. This is sort of a part two but you could read this without reading the blurb as well hence why I don’t think it fits to call it a part two. Again the grammar may be iffy, I tried my best but things probably still slipped through, regardless I hope you guys like this. Let me know your thoughts. And if anyone wants to send me any requests you can go do that here. I appreciate them and will get to them as soon as I can!

You were slumped over your desk, staring at the work you had in front of you. Your business partner/ best friend was expecting this to be done by the end of the night. The video needed to be out by eight pm. It was already seven, you couldn’t focus though and you knew that if you called her and just explained to her that you fucked up. That you did the one thing you shouldn’t have. That you slept with Jaehyun. She’d help you. But you couldn’t process the fact yourself, you couldn’t process the emotions that were still running through you. You couldn’t believe that you ran. Yet you knew there was no other option. You knew how you felt about him, and Jaehyun never made any move to hide his feelings. Not from you.

But it wouldn’t work and you knew that, you were so wrapped up in your YouTube channel and all the other opportunities that were coming your way, and he was… well he was Jung Jaehyun. You couldn’t see yourself by his side. Not with how much you’d have to hide it, not with all his fans. They’d find out, your whole life was on the internet, his was too. It wouldn’t work, it would only lead to more heartbreak. Heartbreak at a greater scale one that you could not take.

You held yourself back as much as you could but last night you couldn’t. Not with the way he looked at you, his eyes showing every emotion he had inside him, not with the way his mouth felt against yours, the way his hands moved against your skin. You could still feel his breath on your skin.

A shiver ran down your spine and you were brought back to the computer in front of you. A video of you and your best friend staring back at you. You’d only edited the first four minutes, there was two hours' worth of footage waiting for you.

Sighing you grabbed your phone, biting your lip you kept yourself from looking at the missed calls you had from him and messages he had sent you. You ignored the burning in you to open them, to reply, to call him back. Instead, you called your friend.

Her happy voice coming through after the first ring.

“Hey, dude what’s up?”

“So listen, I uh I’m gonna need another hour to edit that video it’ll be a little late is that okay?” You said, your voice slightly shaking.

“Yeah yeah, that's fine.” Her voice fell to a concerned tone, “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, yeah I just haven’t been having the best day ya know.” You ran your finger along the side of your desk as you spoke to her. Your mind wandering back to Jaehyun.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked.

“No there’s nothing to talk about just one of those slow and tiring days.” You lied. She hummed on the other side of the line dropping the topic.

“Take your time with the video’s its fine if it goes up late we can put it up tomorrow too. Just send out a tweet.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thank you.”

Hanging up you opened your Twitter app. Quickly typing out the tweet. You scrolled through your feed as your tweet blew up, you weren’t huge on YouTube but you had a decent amount of subscribers that your posting schedule mattered.

Minutes ticked by as you liked and replied to some tweets that came your way. But scrolling came to be a mistake. A thread about Jaehyun appeared on your feed and you couldn’t help but open it, your heart aching as the thread appreciated Jaehyun dimples. You loved his dimples as much as anyone else. The difference was that you had a front seat to him. You’d poked your finger into those dimples so many times over the span of time that you and Jaehyun had known each other.

Quickly closing the app you came face to face again with all the notifications regarding him. Blinking as your eyes stung you bit your lip again. There was only one option in your head again, you couldn’t handle the ache that your heart felt right now imagine if it was on a grander scale. You had to stop this now.

Opening his contact information on your phone you blocked his number, and on Instagram and every other platform he could contact you. Your vision blurred and your headached as you put your phone back down on your desk.

You couldn’t edit the video today anyway. Getting up from your desk chair you made your way to your bed and buried yourself under your blankets as a few tears slipped down your cheek.

Two weeks passed and Jaehyun was a mess, his head was somewhere else constantly, he couldn’t focus on his work. He couldn’t think straight. He just moved from day to day as he became more and more numb. He’d called you, texted you but you hadn’t returned anything. Short of going to your apartment, he’d done everything he could, and that was something he wasn’t going to do. Not after you blocked him.

He dropped his head into the palms of his hands, the bitter pain of the action hitting him again. You’d actually blocked him. The tears gathered in the corners of his eyes again but he blinked them away. But it all hurt, everything hurt. His head hurt from the anger he felt towards you, yet his heart ached for you. The fight in him tired him out daily. The other boys were noticing, Johnny had tried to talk to him about it but Jaehyun didn’t know what to say.

She fucked me and left, oh and while she left she ripped my heart out and stomped on it because there is no way she doesn’t know that I love her.

Jaehyun knew you were cautious, he could sense your fear. But when you slept together that day he’d hoped you’d forget it, that you’d understand that it could work. That with you he’d make it work. He’d hoped that you’d see it. But clearly, you hadn’t.

You hadn’t even given it a chance.

You saw him everywhere all of sudden. You blocked him but you still saw him everywhere. It had been a month since you’d last seen him and noting was easier. You’d lied to yourself then and you would lie to yourself now. Because this was for the best.

You sighed again as another clip of Jaehyun popped up in your Instagram feed. They’d just had another comeback and it was shaping into your biggest nightmare very fast. Scrolling again you came across a clip from a recent interview. He was smiling and laughing with Jungwoo. His dimples showing up as he threw his head back and laughed at something Jungwoo had said to him. Another sigh slipped out your lips as you scrolled again.

“Oh, my fuck. I swear Y/N if you fucking sigh again I’ll knock you out into next week.” Your best friend was staring at you from where she stood setting up the camera for today's shoot.

“What is even wrong with you. For the past month, you’ve been sad and angry and you constantly don’t want to talk about it and I respected that but today I’ve had enough.” Her hands had moved to her hips as she glared down at you.

Looking away from her you ran your tongue over your drying lips.

“Talk to me Y/N.” She demanded and before you knew it everything spilled out. From the day you met Jaehyun nine months ago, to all the flirting. You told her about all the dates you’d gone on, you even told her how you insisted on calling them friend dates. Watched movies in his room, kicking Jungwoo out so that it would be just the two of you. Making cakes in his kitchen and doing the most cliche things while making them. You told her all of it, how you slept with him and blocked him because you were scared. Obviously, she knew of Jaehyun she’d even met him on many occasions but she didn’t know the details, because for some reason your brain had told you that if your best friend knew them. That if you spoke of the events that the feelings would become real, that it would all become real.

“You're scared?” She questioned her face contorting into an expression bordering on disgust. “Scared. You?” She was sitting beside you a scowl embedded into her face.

“Dude, we don’t scare. We meet shit head-on. Our channel is thriving because we didn’t give in to the fear that we would fail. We got where we are with that practice. We don’t fear shit. Especially not the complicated shit because we always make it work we always try.”

She didn’t even blink as she spoke, you knew she was right, but it was easier said than done wasn’t it? But she was right you didn’t fear failure with your work and it paid off and you loved it.

“But it’s so much more complicated now. I don’t think I can fix this.”

“You have to try. Because I can’t stand this behaviour anymore. Fix it, babe, at least try and if it doesn’t work I’ll be here and we’ll move past it.” You nodded as she spoke. Glad that she was your best friend.

“So I should go talk to him? Apologize? Tell him what was going on in my head?”

“Yeah, dude just talk to him.” She looked at you expectantly as she got up and went back to fixing the camera angle.

“Okay can you set up the mic’s now, you can talk to him after we film. Now help me.”

Three hours later you were dragging your feet towards his dorm. You’d planned out what to say and how to say it, after you filmed, in your mirror. Your best friend giving you the thumbs up when you left.

Looking up as you neared the dorm, the air left your lungs. There he was walking towards you, smiling down at a beautiful girl. He looked happy. You watched them as they walked slowly talking about god knows what, your hands fisted at your side as she laughed at something he said. Your insides turned and you felt like you were gonna puke. But you had no right. You were the one who left, you uncurled your hand as your eyes began to sting.

What did you think was going to happen? That you’d leave him and he’d sit around waiting for you. That when you walked into his dorm today he’d take you back with open arms like you hadn’t left his bed and then blocked him on everything. You shook your head blinking back the tears.

You bit your lip and looked away from them. There was no way back into his life and it was clear and it was your fault., but you had to look at him again. Just one last time. Just to see that smile, those dimples one last time in person even if you weren’t the one he was smiling at.

Turning your head back to him your entire body froze. He was already looking at you. Stopped a few feet back from the entrance of the dorm. The girl digging around her bag for something. Your heart thumped in your chest, your blood flowing fast, the rush of it the only sound in your ears.

Your eyes stung again, you couldn’t cry. Not here. Turning away from him you walked away quickly. You needed to get away fast, he shouldn’t have seen you. You felt selfish that you’d stood there that long, that you’d tried to steal that last glance. You should have walked away sooner. The tears slipped down your cheeks, leaving cold wet trails in their wake.

A hand grabbed your wrist, whipping you around. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t. His hand tightened around your wrist.

“So you’re gonna run away again?” You didn’t say anything back. What would you even say because the truth was yes. Yes, you were. He scoffed and dropped your hand, taking a step away from you.

“You're with a girl, you’re happy I don’t want to intrude.” You still weren’t looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the ground to your left.

“Look at me.” He said his voice even. You refused.

“Look at me!” His tone was harsher, slowly you turned your head to him your eyes taking in his face, from far he had looked like the perfect Jaehyun you always saw, but up close you could see the slight darkness under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, the sadness in his eyes as yours finally locked onto them. “Do I look happy to you? That girl is my cousin.” You stayed silent not knowing what to say.

He let out a humourless laugh, “You don’t have anything to say. Why am I shocked?” He ran his hand through his hair and took a step towards you.

“Fine then let me talk. Let me tell you about how you fucked me up, how for the past month I’ve been trying to figure out what I did wrong to have you block me, to have you kick me out of your life so easily. What did I do that was so wrong.” His voice broke on the last word as tears began to trail down his face. You were frozen in your spot, your hands shaking at your side.

Everything that you’d wanted to say, everything you’d thought to say out your head. You watched as he broke down in front of you, your heartbreaking with each tear that ran down his cheek. Slowly you raised your hand taking a step closer to him, you hesitated only for a second before pulling him to you.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. I'm the one that fucked up. I'm the one that ran away, and I’m the one that is so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything Jaehyun.” His arms wrapped around your body pulling you into him, his hands fisting at the back fabric of your coat.

“I was scared, scared about everything. Scared that it would all only hurt us more in the end. I was trying to make it easier.” This time your voice cracked as you began to cry. His arms tightened around you.

“I'm so sorry, I’m so stupid. I ran away and I’m so sorry.” It was hard for you to talk through your tears. You tried to calm down by taking in breaths of air. You needed to stop crying. “Please forgive me.”

You looked up at him, his eyes were red from his tears that had stopped. His eyes softened as they took in your face. He didn’t say anything to you just moved his face to yours, softly pressing his lips against yours.

“Let me make it up to you.” You said pulling away from his lips.

You pulled him into your apartment, taking your coat off and throwing it onto your couch. Prompting him to do the same. You grabbed his hand once his coat was off and pulled him into your bedroom. Your mouth returning to his as soon as you closed the door. The kiss was slow and soft, both of you taking each other in. Pulling away from him you looked at his face, his brown eyes dark you were sure you reflected the same desire back to him that you saw. Pressing your lips back to his you let your hands trail down his chest as his stayed planted on your waist. Weaving your hand under his shirt you raked your cold fingers ups his abs earning a shiver from him. You smiled pulling away from him and pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of his bare torso, pressing yourself back to him you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, softly sinking your teeth into the same spot before sucking the skin into your mouth. Jaehyun moaned, his hands moving up the back of your t-shirt pulling you against him. You could feel his member hard and pressed against you in-between the both of you.

Licking the spot to soothe the sting you pressed a kiss to the slowly darkening mark, before moving further down. You kissed down his chest, softly pressing your lips against his hot skin. You marvelled in the way his breathing became shallow as you moved onto your knees. Hooking your fingers into the buttons of his jeans you undid them pulled them down along with his boxers. You pushed him back towards your bed letting him step out the articles of clothing and sit down as you slowly wrapped your hand around his throbbing cock. He was already so hard. You looked up at him as you slowly moved your hand down before licking the tip, wiping away the moisture that had gathered there.

He groaned at your action, his eyes locked with yours as you made your way down his dick kissing down the underside towards his balls before sticking your tongue out and licking back up to his tip. His cock twitched in your hand as you wrapped your lips around his head. One of his hands twisted into the back of your hair softly grabbing your locks.

Jaehyun’s head fell back as you moved him further into your mouth, you went slow letting yourself feel each vein with your tongue as you fit him into your mouth. Soft moans spilled from him, flowing towards you as you begin to move him in and out of your mouth, using your hand to massage the rest of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

A soft growl fell from his lips as he pulled you off him.

“You can finish that some other time.” He said, yanking you up into his lap you straddled him, as he kissed you roughly his tongue entering your mouth and quickly meeting yours. You moaned into him as his hands moved under your shirt one hand unclasping your bra.

“Fuck.” he cursed pulling away from you before pulling your shirt off and throwing it across the room. He tangled his hand in the hair at the back of your head again pulling you towards him to press his mouth to yours as you let your bra fall off and tossed it onto the ground. The thumb of his other hand drawing circles at your hip.

He stood up taking you with him, not breaking the kiss as he did. You groaned as his dick pressed against your clothed core, causing heat to rush through you. He tossed you onto the bed before quickly following you.

“I’m so fucked.” He said before pressing his lips into your neck, sucking the skin as you had done before on him. You moaned letting your hand fly to the back of his head as he moved down towards your chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed until he got your breast.

He lifted his head from you and stared at you, his eyes almost black with lust. Your breathing was laboured as he smirked at you before returning his mouth to your nipple. He harshly sucked it into his mouth pulling it up between his teeth. You let out a breathy moan, his name flowing out of your mouth, as your chest arched off the bed following his mouth. He laughed before letting your nipple pop out of his mouth and pushed up you back into the mattress before kissing over to your other breast copying his action before moving his kisses down your stomach.

You writhed under him as his mouth got closer to where you wanted him. Hooking his fingers into your legging he pulled them down leaving you in only your panties. He looked up at you before looking back down at your covered core. Your cheeks reddened as he smiled.

“Your so wet baby, you soaked through your panties.” His voice was thick with lust, his face showing on full display his desire for you.

“For you,” you panted back, as he pressed a finger to you over your panties.

“For me.” He whispered to himself before pulling your underwear down. He hovered his face over your clit, you could feel his breath teasing you. Bucking your hips towards him wanting him to do something already. You snaked your hand down to his hair.

“Please.” You whined pushing yourself up towards him again. He chuckled, taking your hand from his hair. He held it at your stomach pushing you down back to the bed before he ran his tongue up your slit. Your eyes closed shut as your loud moans filled the room. He repeated the action before taking your clit into his mouth sucking on the swollen nub.

“Jaehyun.” You whined moving your other hand to his hair only for him to grab it and hold it down next to your other one. You whined trying to move your hips but being unable to as he held you down. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him now.

“Baby please, you can finish that some other time.” You said stealing his words from earlier. “I need you.” He pulled back from you, his mouth covered in you. He let go of your hands letting you loop them around his neck as you pulled him back up to you. Immediately pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss, you tasted yourself on his tongue.

A deep moan fell from your lips as he slipped his cock between your folds slowly moving so that the tip was hitting your clit. His hand wrapped around your head weaving into the hair at the top as the other one knotted into the sheets next to your head.

He pressed his forehead against yours closing his eyes as he continued to repeat his action savouring the breathy moans that fell from your open mouth.

“Please.” You whined when you had as much as you could take, “I need you. Please.” You begged.

His breathing mirrored your own, harsh shared breaths as he lined himself up at your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Your eyes fell shut at the stretch, you clenched around him as he took his time sliding into you taking in the feeling of your tight walls around him.

“Fuck,” He muttered against your mouth followed by a soft moan as he bottomed out. You both breathed heavily as he stayed still, agonizing seconds passed before he pulled back again before spanning his hips back to you. Your head twisted to the side as he picked up his pace. He bit into the soft skin of your jaw as he moved in and out of you.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room along with your moans, overwhelming your mind as he fucked you into a daze. You drowned in your head with every snap of his hips, you could feel him hitting your g-spot with each thrust pushing you closer you climax.

Sweat dotted his forehead as his thrusts sped up, throwing you off the edge into the depths. Your back arched off the bed, your chest pressing against his as he took your lips up with his swiping his tongue against yours mirroring the action of his hips as he thrust into you harsher chasing after his release. You moaned his name but it sounded far off to your ears as you shook underneath him. Your walls clenching around his cock, finally his dick twitched and he came spilling himself into you. A loud moan leaving him followed by heavy breathing as he looked down at you. He let his head fall into the crook of your neck as you both came down from your highs.

“I’m so fucked,” He whispered to you. “Don’t run away from me again Y/N. I won’t be able to take it again.” He said and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere Jaehyun.” You said stroking his back with your hand.

“Good because, Y/N, I really like you.” You turned your head to him, his eyes meeting yours as you did. You could see the emotion in his eyes, you could see the truth behind his words, the real words he’d wanted to say.

“I really like you too, Jaehyun.” You said, also keeping the grander emotion with you. For now. You had plenty of time to say it to him. To hear it from him, because you weren’t going anywhere, but the three words rattled around your brain, your heart your entire being as you looked at him before pressing your lips against his.

I love you.

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drunk-on-angst · 2 years

Text

Finally finished my TachiharaxTanizaki.

Word count: 600

Warnings: mentions of blood, guns and torture

An Unlikely Friendship

My head was spinning, the world around me was a blur of dark grey. The metallic taste of blood invaded my mouth. The ropes dug into my wrists. There was only blood. Blood everywhere. The immense pain had numbed all of my senses. I had lost track of the days. It had probably been a week, it felt like an eternity.

I heard the creak of the heavy steel door scratching across the cold floor. A hazy figure approached me.

“Oi, Agency agent, I brought food.”

That voice, the Black Lizard commander, Tachihara Michizou.

“Hey, you can resist all you want, you either die of starvation or from the blood loss. It doesn’t matter to me at all.”

“When the Agency arrives-“

“Yeah yeah, they’ll make us pay, blah blah blah justice, blah blah blah, regret. You’ve given everyone who’s come in to this room that speech.”, he said with a chuckle. “I’ve heard it 5 times myself.”

This one, he’s much more relaxed. If I wasn’t this weak I might have been able to kill him.

“Uh uh, I know what you’re thinking. It’s strange to be joking around with a prisoner like this but know I’m very much ready to shoot your brains out.”, as he said this he pulled out a gun in the blink of an eye and held it to my temple, “Not that I’m supposed to do it.”, he lowered his weapon.

“Yet you joke around.”

“Yeah, ughh today’s just so busy no one’s in the mood to talk.”

“Pardon?”

“Hey, just because I’m part of the mafia doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have fun.”

“Of course not.”, I grumbled.

“Hey you have a sister-“

I jumped up at the mention of Naomi. The chair I was tied to toppled down and I hit the floor with a thud.

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH NAOMI! I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL KILL YOU ALL!”, I screamed through a mouthful of blood.

Gently the mafioso pulled up the chair and me. He grabbed my hair and clasped my mouth shut with his hand.

“Ehem, as I was saying, you have a sister right? Don’t you joke around with her?”

I was shocked.

“God you’re such a baby. That’s the problem with you people, you paint everything black and white.”

“Of course.”, I whispered, causing him to face me again. “Naomi and I have lots of fun together.”

“Good you do know how to joke then.”

“Better than you possibly.”

The atmosphere had lightened.

“Why are you treating my wounds?”

“If I left them open you’ll die, the boss says that can’t happen.”

He stayed along time, we chatted casually, a strange thing for me. I’ve always been scared of or hated the mafia. Sometimes I forgot they were people too.

“Why…Why would you place a cucumber on someone’s desk?”

“He acts so much like a cat I wanted to experiment!”

“He’s most definitely a human Tachihara.”

“But he jumped.”

“No one expects a cucumber!”

“Humans do, not cats!”

“So you proved that your friend is a cat that way?”

“Yep!”

“You have so many loose screws.”

“Oi!”

“Tachihara-san.”, the red haired mafioso’s head shot up.

“Oh Gramps it’s you.”

“How long does it take you to take care of a hostage?”

“Sorry. I got…distracted.”

The old man let out a sigh as another mafioso entered the room.

“The Agency has come to attack, no more play time you two.”

“Got it Gramps.”, Tachihara said taking out his gun. “Hey Tanizaki, let’s test for cats when we see each other again, ok?”, he said with an angelic smile.

I nodded my head. We would never meet again.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd fanfic #bsd fic #bsd tanizaki #bsd tachihara #tachixtani #tachihara michizou #tachihara x tanizaki

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lulu-zodiac · 3 years

Text

Hidden in Plain Sight

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Jeremy Bradshaw

Tags: Early seasons Dean, pre-podcast Professor Bradshaw, denial, unresolved sexual tension, bickering, smut, gratuitous owl references, case fic

Summary: It's the fall of 2006, and a string of grisly deaths linked to local lore brings Sam and Dean to the village of Bridgewater. There, Dean finds himself working closely with the frustrating and unexpectedly compelling Professor Bradshaw.

---

Dean feels about as comfortable in old colleges as he does in churches. There’s the same sense of exclusivity, that same reverence of things Dean has spent his life stuck on wrong side of. This campus even feels a little like a church, with its old architecture and sprawling ruby ivy and slit windows like narrowed eyes. His footfalls echo heavily along the cold stone corridor, making him feel uncomfortably aware of his own existence.

The door he’s looking for is old and made of oak, nestled in an alcove near the staircase, with a small plaque on it that reads Professor J Bradshaw.

Dean pauses for a moment, then knocks abruptly, suddenly noticing his knuckles are still smudged with earth. From within, a muffled voice instructs him to enter, and he does so, wiping his hand surreptitiously against the side of his leather jacket.

The first thing that hits him is the sheer volume of books in the room; they clutter every available surface, piled high in front of the big bay window like a strange line of defense. There are stacks of loose papers everywhere too, haphazard but clearly organized, some held in place by empty coffee mugs or odd-looking artefacts. The air is bright and warm, like this room catches the sun when it’s slow and mellow in the afternoons.

The second thing that hits him is the man sitting at the desk.

He doesn’t look up at Dean’s entrance, continuing to scribble away in a leather-bound notebook with intent dexterity, seemingly utterly lost in his own thoughts. He’s not what Dean expected; surprisingly young, maybe approaching forty, with a sharp jaw and tousled hair that just brushes his broad shoulders. When Dean clears his throat awkwardly, the man finally looks up with striking blue eyes that immediately pin Dean in place.

“Yes?” his voice is inquiring and several octaves deeper than Dean would have imagined, low and gravelly. He sets down his pen, looking at Dean with piercing focus.

“Uh – hey. Professor Bradshaw?” Dean feels distinctly self-conscious.

“Who wants to know?” the man closes his notebook with a snap and stands with surprisingly fluid ease, eyes still intent on Dean as though he’s cataloguing him.

He’s wearing a faded navy-blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up, slightly crumpled shirt tails poking out at the hem, just visible.

Drawing on years of sizing people up, Dean guesses that the guy probably has no one to go home to at night. If he goes home much at all, that is; the office has a distinctly lived-in look. It’s strangely reminiscent of the makeshift home feel of the impala’s interior.

“Um – Dean. Dean Collins,” Dean answers hastily, suddenly realizing he’s spent a little too long looking. “I’m uh – a student in one of your classes,” he lies the best way he knows how: with a charming smile. “I was wondering if you’ve got a moment? I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions about your work.”

“Come in, please,” Professor Bradshaw sits back down behind his desk, and gestures for Dean to close the door. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Dean shuts the door and awkwardly removes three hardback books and a small, slightly drooping fern from the only available seat in front of Professor Bradshaw’s desk.

“Sorry – let me –” Professor Bradshaw leans over the desk to relieve Dean of the books and the plant. Close up, Dean can see faint lines softening the corners of his vivid eyes, and when he breathes in, he catches a hint of peppermint and the musk of warm skin, strangely compelling. Their hands brush for a moment as Professor Bradshaw takes the items, and Dean flinches, jerking away and planting himself firmly on the chair.

“So – Dean, yes?” Professor Bradshaw settles back into his seat. He’s still looking intently at Dean, gaze startlingly blue.

Wordlessly, Dean nods. He doesn’t know why he can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re not in any of my classes, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, with a slight edge to his voice. He reaches for a half-drunk mug of tea on his desk, expression skeptical.

Dean feels his stomach drop. “Uh, yeah – I’m new, just transferred a couple weeks back,” he bluffs quickly, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. He feels strangely flustered, visible.

“No, I don’t think so,” Professor Bradshaw says, flatly. “I believe I would have noticed,” he adds, wryly, with a kind of impatient warmth in his expression that makes Dean’s cheeks flare with heat all over again. Professor Bradshaw merely swallows a mouthful of tea and sets the mug back down, still looking at Dean. “So. Who are you?”

“Alright,” Dean puts his hands up in mock-surrender, smiling wide even though he feels stupidly on edge, knocked off course. “You got me. I’m – uh – a journalist. My boss has me writing a piece on local legends, and I was hoping to pick your brains. Heard you’re the expert on all that stuff around here, and thought I might be in with a better chance of talking to you as a student instead of some annoying reporter.”

“I see,” Professor Bradshaw leans back in his chair, contemplative. A shaft of sunlight filters through the bay window behind him, illuminating a hint of tawny in his dark, untidy hair. Dust motes hang everywhere like suspended snow. “Well, luckily for you, Dean, I find that my students can be just as annoying as reporters. And I still talk to them on a daily basis.”

Dean grins a little awkwardly, “Yeah?”

“Of course, I do get paid to do that,” Professor Bradshaw adds, dryly. “But perhaps I do them a disservice. Some of them are really quite inspiring.” He pauses, raising his mug to his lips. It has an owl on it, Dean notices absently. An overly fluffy one, with a slightly threatening glare. “I daresay I can spare five minutes. What is it that I can do for you, Dean?”

“Uh, so you study the supernatural, right?” Dean asks, clumsily. His hands are sweating where they’re shoved in the pockets of his jacket. “Ghosts and demons and all that shit?”

“I study the lore and mythology of supernatural beings, and why it’s important to humans to create such stories,” Professor Bradshaw clarifies, shortly.

“Right, got it,” Dean agrees, hastily. “But you’d know a bit about the Bridgewater coven?”

“I am familiar with the legends, yes,” Professor Bradshaw replies, reaching for his mug again. There’s an ink stain on the side of his index finger, smudged deep blue. Dean fleetingly wonders if it would rub off easily if he touched it, if it would leave a ghostly imprint on his own skin.

“Yeah – uh – so there’s been quite a lot of interest in the coven recently,” Dean blusters, annoyed with himself for how stupidly flustered he feels, “You know, since those bodies were found last week? At the burial site in Bridgewater Forest that’s associated with the legend? Yeah. Well, anyway, I was – hoping you might be able to tell me a little more about the legend of the coven.”

“I don’t see what the recent tragedies could possibly have to do with the legend,” Professor Bradshaw narrows his eyes skeptically.

“Right – yeah – nothing, I’m sure,” Dean lies hastily, “But the location of the crimes has definitely raised awareness about the existence of the legend, and that’s what we really want to provide for our readers.”

“Well, certainly, I can tell you the history,” Professor Bradshaw replies, briskly, “In fact, I teach an undergrad course on witchcraft in history and my lecture this Wednesday actually covers the legend of the coven. If you want a more detailed, nuanced version, you’re more than welcome to come along then – it’s at 11am in the Milton building. But I’m happy to give you the short version now, if that would be helpful?”

“Thanks – yeah, that’d be great,” Dean says, gratefully. “On a bit of a tight schedule today.”

“Well, the local legend about the Bridgewater coven has existed for almost two hundred years,” Professor Bradshaw starts, and immediately Dean can picture him talking in front of a lecture theatre full of kids. He’s a natural, something inherently captivating about the way he speaks. “In the 1800s, this village was an important site of religious pilgrimage. However, according to the legend, the village was also home to a small coven lead by a witch named Iris. Iris’s coven was said to have lived in secrecy in the forest on the outskirts of Bridgewater for years, and not to have troubled the village people. However, by 1816, the legend claims the coven had become very hostile, specifically towards the church. There were fears the coven had begun indoctrinating – or bewitching – members of the congregation.”

Professor Bradshaw pauses, swallowing another mouthful of tea. The muscles in his throat work, drawing Dean’s attention to the way his pale blue shirt isn’t buttoned up properly. He’s filled with the sudden, inexplicable urge to button it up correctly.

“More and more people started disappearing in connection with the coven,” Professor Bradshaw continues, setting his mug back down on the desk, and Dean jerks his gaze guiltily away from the line of his throat, clenching his hands into fists inside the pockets of his leather jacket. “The rapidly diminishing congregation lived in terror. The remaining members of the church all turned against each other. Then, at the height of local hysteria, Iris is said to have murdered Blanche, the minister’s daughter, in what is portrayed in the lore as some kind of statement of the coven’s power over the church.”

“Bet that didn’t go down too well,” Dean remarks, sardonically.

“Quite,” Professor Bradshaw catches Dean’s eye, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Anyway, according to the legend, the tragedy of Blanche’s death united the warring members of the congregation. They captured Iris and entombed her alive, using her own magic against her to keep her trapped. Iris’s death broke the spell on the members of the congregation who’d been indoctrinated against their will, and peace was restored to the village. The few remaining members of the original coven fled and were never seen again.”

“Wow,” Dean raises his eyebrows, “Very love-thy-neighbor.”

Professor Bradshaw snorts, “Yes. Religious leaders in the 1800s were renowned for sitting down and resolving their problems through compassionate discussion,” he remarks, dryly.

“Okay, but what about the other versions of the legend?” Dean asks, trying to remember the things Sam had told him to ask about, but drawing a total blank. His brain feels weirdly scrambled. It’s hard to remember what happened before walking into Professor Bradshaw’s office. “The other stories about the coven I’ve come across so far all seem pretty different.”

Professor Bradshaw frowns slightly. “It’s true, there are many conflicting accounts. Which is often the case with legends, being human constructions of the past,” he regards Dean slightly disapprovingly over the rim of his owl mug, a kind of skeptical stubbornness in the set of his mouth. “It’s not about knowing which ‘to believe’ – it’s about looking at why historically people have favored one version over the other and what that tells us about them.”

“Right, yeah, but aren’t legends often based on fact?” Dean pushes.

Professor Bradshaw pauses, contemplatively, “Yes. That’s certainly true in some cases.”

“Do you think it’s the case in this one?”

“Possibly,” Professor Bradshaw replies, haltingly. His expression is serious and he hesitates for a moment before elaborating; “In fact, I’m currently writing a paper about the historical figures who feature in the legend of the Bridgewater coven.”

“Yeah? Which ones?” Dean presses. He’s used to having to fake interest to get information out of people like Professor Bradshaw, but for once, he finds he’s genuinely interested. There’s something compelling about Professor Bradshaw’s evidently obsessive quest for obscure answers, something that resonates with all too much familiarity.

“Iris, predominantly,” Professor Bradshaw replies. “I’m very interested in the historical reasons women were condemned as witches. Often, it’s as simple as jilted male lovers using accusations of witchcraft as a means of revenge, or the women using herbal remedies that threatened contemporary male ideas of medicine and the body. Sometimes it’s to do with female homosexuality and society’s unacceptance of same sex relationships or women as sexual beings. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for gay men to be condemned for witchcraft either. But statistically, more homosexual women died as a result of such accusations.”

“Uh – right –” Dean swallows, looking away. His hands are sweating again, and he wipes them surreptitiously on the insides of his pockets. Clearing his throat, he changes the subject, suddenly remembering the other thing Sam had told him to ask Professor Bradshaw about, “What about the runes?”

“Ah yes, the runes on Iris’s supposed tomb,” Professor Bradshaw’s gaze is suddenly inscrutable in a way that makes Dean’s heart thud uncomfortably in his chest. It sweeps over Dean, lingering and unnervingly blue for a moment, before he continues, “Very interesting. I’ve been studying them a great deal as part of my research. The true nature of them has always remained a mystery, and any attempts to discern their meaning haven’t fitted with the legend at all. I believe they may be key to understanding the history behind the creation of the legend. But,” he smiles, wryly, “It’s not an easy task. They’re unlike any runes I’ve come across anywhere else before.”

“Can I see?” Dean asks, partly out of interest, and partly for some way of distracting himself from the way his heart is still thumping uncomfortably fast.

“You’d have to visit the forest burial site to see them in person, but I do have a couple of sketches of the lines I’m working on at the moment,” Professor Bradshaw gets to his feet and crosses to the cabinet by the window, pulling the top drawer open.

The fall chestnut trees outside smolder amber behind his silhouette, midday sunshine pale gold and still where it filters through the window. Time seems strangely irrelevant. Dean watches as Professor Bradshaw flicks through a green binder, fingers quick and dexterous, skilled and uncalloused in a way Dean’s have never had the chance to be.

Dean swallows and looks away, ignoring the thud of his heart as he stares around at the rest of the room. He clocks a bunch of compendiums of mythology on the bookcase nearest him, and two other eccentric and slightly neglected looking plants. There’s a thick plaid rug on the couch in the corner, not quite concealing a plate of half-eaten toast. On the windowsill, there’s a little tin mug with a toothbrush in it that makes Dean wonder again just how often Professor Bradshaw goes home at all. He finds himself wondering whether Professor Bradshaw has always had nothing but an empty house to return to, or whether that’s a more recent development. He’s definitely old enough to be going through a divorce. The thought sits uncomfortably in Dean’s chest for reasons he doesn’t particularly want to identify.

“Here we are.” Professor Bradshaw’s gravelly voice, suddenly much closer, makes Dean jump. He glances around to find Professor Bradshaw standing beside him, holding out a sheet of paper. The smell of warm skin and peppermint catches Dean off guard, stronger this time, and still strangely compelling.

“Uh – thanks,” Dean says awkwardly, taking the proffered page. He feels Professor Bradshaw’s fingers brush against his fleetingly, warm and ink-stained.

Dean swallows, forcing himself to focus on the page in front of him even though his cheeks are hot with something he doesn’t want to think about. The sketches are good, a few strange vaguely Norse reminiscent symbols drawn hastily with accompanying, scrawled notes in the margins. There’s something about the runes that niggles at Dean’s brain, familiar and unfamiliar all at once, like something he’s known his whole life but can’t put his finger on.

“These are interesting,” Dean he frowns, tracing his finger along the two last symbols.

When he glances up, he finds Professor Bradshaw looking at him intently, blue eyes inscrutable. “Yes,” he says, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms across his chest. “Those are the ones which struck me too,” he’s speaking a little quieter, low voice distracting Dean from why the runes are so familiar. He hopes he can remember them, that Sam will be able to place what he can’t about them.

“So, uh, this tomb. The one with the runes on it – that’s definitely where that guy’s body was found last week? It wasn’t just nearby or something?” Dean forces himself to ask, ignoring the way his heart is suddenly thumping again. “And the girl found the week before – she was directly linked to the burial site too?”

Professor Bradshaw clears his throat, unfolding his arms. “I believe so, yes.”

“And that doesn’t seem – I don’t know – a little strange, to you?”

“Human beings committing violent acts against each other is generally something I find a little strange,” Professor Bradshaw replies, in clipped tones. “But beyond that – no. Now –” he breaks off, glancing at his watch. “I’m afraid I have a seminar to deliver in ten minutes,” he confesses, and there’s something unfinished about the way he says it, something almost reluctant. Like he half wants to stay here talking with Dean.

“No problem,” Dean stands, and takes a last glance at the sketches before handing them back, trying to commit them to memory. “Thanks, Professor.”

Their eyes meet as Professor Bradshaw accepts the page, and the room suddenly feels very airless, a pause suspended between them. Neither of them moves away.

This close, Dean can see miniscule flecks of grey like tiny stars lost in blue of Professor Bradshaw’s eyes, the way that his full lips are slightly chapped, like maybe he worries them between his teeth when he’s thinking. They’re soft pink and warm-looking, and Dean wonders fleetingly if they taste like peppermint tea.

“It was nice meeting you, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, gently, and his eyes are so blue.

“Uh – yeah – you too. Thanks. I’d – uh – I’d better get going,” Dean stammers, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and cursing the way his cheeks are suddenly flaming with heat. His thoughts churn unsteadily; he ignores them the way he’s learnt to.

Still feeling strangely wound-up, he nods awkwardly at Professor Bradshaw and turns reluctantly towards the door.

“Wait a moment, Dean –” Professor Bradshaw’s voice halts Dean in his tracks as he reaches the door, and Dean turns expectantly, heat thumping a little painfully.

“Yeah?”

“Here – you’re welcome to borrow a couple of books on local history,” Professor Bradshaw is pulling a couple of books down from the overflowing cabinet by the window. “They should have a bit more about the legend of the coven that you might find interesting. Divergences of the legend and so forth. I’ll need them back by Thursday morning as I’m teaching a class on them in the afternoon, but you’re welcome to borrow them until then if they’d be helpful.”

“You sure?” Dean takes the proffered books awkwardly, and swallows the strange disappointment sinks in him like a stone as Professor Bradshaw steps back again. “Thanks.”

“As I said, I’m also giving a lecture on Wednesday where I’ll be examining the history behind the legend of the coven. I meant what I said - you’d be more than welcome to attend,” Professor Bradshaw says, sincerely. His eyes are intent, and there’s a hint of something almost like hopefulness hidden in the depths of his gravelly voice. Working on long ingrained instinct, Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Thanks, I’ll – I’ll see what my schedule’s like,” Dean replies, haltingly.

“Of course,” Professor Bradshaw agrees. He turns back to his desk.

“Can I ask –” Dean pauses, watching Professor Bradshaw stuff another notebook and a stack of handouts into his briefcase. “You said you’re writing a paper about the runes at the forest burial site– do you go to there much?”

Professor Bradshaw glances up, distractedly. “Yes, I spend time there every week.”

“So you haven’t noticed anything – I don’t know – anything unusual when you’ve been there recently?” Dean ventures.

“Unusual how?” Professor Bradshaw closes his briefcase with a snap and looks up at Dean properly, eyes narrowed with sudden skepticism. It’s stronger than the hints Dean has caught at other points during their conversation, sharp and blue, a world away from the observant warmth of a few moments ago.

“I dunno – odd noises, sudden drops in temperature, shadows –”

“Just what are you asking me?” Professor Bradshaw demands, voice clipped and defensive.

“Have you seen anything like that?” Dean presses, stubbornly. Irritation prickles his skin.

“No, I haven’t,” Professor Bradshaw says, bluntly. “And you know why? Because yes, I study the supernatural – but it’s not real, Dean. I don’t know what kind of sensational article you’re writing about local lore, but I can assure you, lore is all it is.” He winds a striped scarf haphazardly around his neck, and grabs his briefcase off the desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

Sam is eating some gross looking granola yoghurt pot with a plastic spoon when Dean eventually clambers back into the car, feeling distinctly frustrated.

“You took your time,” he remarks idly, raising an eyebrow as Dean adjusts the mirror with an unnecessary amount of force and turns on the ignition.

“Goddamn waste of time was what it was,” Dean mutters mutinously, pulling out of the space and then immediately being forced to hit the brakes when a cluster of students cross the parking lot in front of him. He grinds his teeth and resists the urge to honk the horn. “Thought I was getting somewhere but he completely shut down the minute I asked him if he’d noticed anything weird at the burial site.”

“Suspicious?” Sam frowns, through a mouthful of granola.

“No, don’t think so. Just really damn touchy,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as he waits for the students to move, “And a bit of an asshole. I dunno, suppose working in his field he’s probably used to people thinking he’s just some lunatic who believes in the supernatural.”

“And does he?”

Dean snorts. “No way. He’s got a real bee in his bonnet about it. You’d think someone who’s spent the last twenty years with their head buried in books about ghosts and covens and demonic possession might be a little more open to the idea,” he shrugs, and gives in to the temptation to lean on the horn, reveling in the brief satisfaction of making the students jump and scurry out of the way, “But no. The guy’s absolutely blind to it all, and could rival you on stubbornness.”

Sam purses his mouth in annoyance, but doesn’t rise to the bait. “Get anything useful at all?”

“He did lend me a couple books,” Dean admits, nodding in the direction of the backseat. “Have to take them back on Thursday morning, though. He needs them for some class.”

“He leant you his books?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugs, skin prickling in annoyance, “What of it?”

“Dunno, that’s just,” Sam swallows a mouthful of yoghurt, “Pretty trusting. Academics usually treat their books as if they’re their first borns.”

“Don’t mess them up when you read them, then,” Dean says, dismissively, as they pull out onto the main street. “You find out anything useful about the victims?”

“Not really,” Sam leans back in his seat with a sigh, “Both from middle class, religious families. Seem to have been pretty well liked by people. Hard to establish any link more than that. The wife of the guy that was killed last week seemed a bit cagey, though,” he shrugs, “Might be worth a second visit to see if she’s holding out on us about something.”

“Right,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as they wait for a light to change. It’s starting to drizzle, tiny flecks of grey hitting the windshield. “Are we still definitely thinking ghost?”

“Seems like it,” Sam affirms, “The way the victims died definitely points to a vengeful spirit. But the place they were killed – connected to the burial site associated with the coven? I don’t know, I was thinking maybe it’s no ordinary ghost. Maybe it’s the vengeful spirit of a witch, and that’s why it’s so powerful?”

“Hm,” Dean mulls it over, flicking the windscreen wipers on as they continue to wait. They squeak slightly, repetitive and familiar. “You could be onto something there.”

“Yeah?”

“Professor Bradshaw was telling me about the local legend of the coven. Apparently, its leader was entombed alive by a bunch of angry churchgoers,” Dean steps on the accelerator as the light finally changes, and the rain-slicked village slides past in a blur. “That’s got to be some pretty good vengeful spirit material right there. And you said the victims were both religious, right? Can’t be a coincidence.”

“Why now, though?” Sam frowns. “It’s been what – two hundred years? There must have been plenty of churchgoers who walked by the burial site before now.”

“Dunno,” Dean shrugs, staring out at the rainy smudge of fall colors. The chestnuts trees lining the street are the same smoldering hue of amber as the one outside Professor Bradshaw’s window.

They drive in silence for a few moments, wipers squeaking.

“Okay,” Sam says, at length, “So I’m thinking – we go check into a motel, get through as much of these books from your professor as we can while we wait for the rain to stop, and then check out the burial site later this afternoon before it gets dark?” Sam asks, chucking his plastic spoon in the empty yoghurt container.

“He’s not ‘my professor’,” Dean says defensively, and suddenly has to step a little too hard on the breaks to avoid running a red light.

“Alright,” Sam says, slowly. “Okay.”

“Anyway, yeah,” Dean blusters, hastily, ignoring the weight of Sam’s gaze on the side of his face, “Works for me. But first,” he flicks on the indicator and pulls into a space near a little line of local shops. “Food. Not that yoghurty shit you’ve been eating. Real food.”

The forest is steeped in quiet in the way all ancient places are, fall singing the leaves on the gnarled branches that claw their way towards the fading gold of the late afternoon sun. Dean breathes in the wet, cloying smell of moss and follows Sam’s careful path through the trees. There’s a chill in the air, but the handle of Dean’s blade is hot in the palm of his hand.

“How much further to this place?” he hisses at Sam’s back, swatting a frond of bracken out of his face and casting his gaze edgily through the twisting branches and burnt amber.

“Nearly there, according to –” Sam stops so abruptly that Dean nearly collides with him, throwing out a cautionary arm.

“What?” Dean whispers urgently, instantly drawing his blade. His heart is racing now, whole body tense, coiled, ready to attack. His gaze flickers rapidly through the mess of branches and he stands on his tiptoes, trying to see past Sam’s stupidly large frame. “Sammy,” he hisses, impatiently, when Sam doesn’t immediately answer, “What is it?”

“There’s something there,” Sam breathes, almost inaudible. His posture is still, alert. Dean can see Sam’s hold on the gun in his back pocket tighten.

“What kind of something?” Dean whispers, craning his neck to try and see. The light seems somehow dimmer already, the fading sun sliding further towards the ground. When he breathes in, the smell of wet leaves is stronger, now that they’re in the heart of the forest. His heart is thrumming so fast but everything else feels suspended in time, unnaturally still.

“I think it’s a person,” Sam murmurs, and somewhere close, Dean hears the brittle rustle of dead leaves, loud and unnerving in the wooded quiet. He watches the quickened rise and fall of Sam’s shoulders as his breathing suddenly sharpens. “They’re holding something. They – shit, Dean, they’re coming this way.”

Dean reacts immediately and on nearly twenty years of protective instinct; he shoves Sam out of the way and stumbles out into the clearing, blade brandished in front of him.

---

#did i really just create a new ship tag on ao3 just because i couldn't get the idea of early seasons dean and pre-podcast jeremy meeting?#yes #yes i did #feedback truly makes my day <3 #crossposting from ao3 #bridgewater #bridgewater podcast #supernatural #dean winchester #jeremy bradshaw #dean x jeremy #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #my stuff #my posts: fanfic

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor… - c.4

Summary: Penny is going to see her professor for the first time again after they kissed.

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 5.1k

Warnings: Thunderstorms (?)

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

The next day it’s time for my criminology class, the first one I’ll have after our kiss. I haven’t spoken to Walter since the kiss, because a) it was literally yesterday and b) after I told him I was going to bed, I actually went to bed and fell asleep.

To make matters even worse, our meeting isn’t even gonna be in a private setting.

It’s in lecture hall setting.

Despite me falling asleep not long after I arrived home, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Since I was hungry, I decided to have some late night snacks, but I am incapable of eating normally, because I totally spilled some sauce on Walter’s sweater.

In other words: I had a little early morning laundry moment.

With Walter’s sweater neatly folded in my backpack, I take a deep breath for some encouragement, as I walk into the lecture hall. There are already around ten other students in their seats and Walter sits on the edge of his table, as he reads through his notes. He looks up, but his expression barely changes. Emphasis on barely. There is a slight shift in his eyes, but it’s hardly noticeable if you don’t know him that well. ‘Morning, miss Townsend.’

Like nothing ever happened between us.

‘Good morning, sir,’ I say, before walking up to my assigned seat. I should not let out a sigh of relief, but I still do. I tell myself I shouldn’t be this nervous, however it’s an impossible task. My leg moves up and down in a restless pace and my jaw is painfully clenched.

I try my best, but it is out of question to focus on the entire class. Thankfully, Walter must’ve noticed that my brain is everywhere but in this class, because he doesn’t call out my name once. For the first time in forever I don’t have any questions about the assignment, so when a few other students hang around after class, I manage to sneak passed them and make my way to the library.

My brain really is malfunctioning, because I keep staring at my screen, unable to do anything slightly productive. I look into my backpack, to see Walter’s sweater. About an hour has passed and maybe… Maybe I could bring it to him now?

I grab my phone and decide to just send him a text. I can take the first step after yesterday, right? I’m a big girl.

Me: Can I come over to your office now?

I don’t get an answer straight away, which is only fueling up the doubt that has been brewing inside my heart. Not quite the big girl after all.

What if he thought this was a mistake? Oh shit, the kiss was terrible, he hated it and I should therefore never ever kiss again!

My breathing stops when I see his answer.

Walter: Of course, princess 💕

I swallow hard. This is a good sign, right? The heart emoji and the nickname that led me to internally screaming all night indicate he didn’t think the kiss was terrible, what we did wasn’t a mistake and that we should totally kiss again.

Right?

The hallways are empty, as a lot of people are already back at their dorms due to the bad weather that is forecasted for later today. Normally, I would do the same, but I think I lingered around campus, so I had a chance of talking to Walter. I walk towards his office and knock on his door. I hear a deep and annoyed: ‘Come in’ and I take it as my cue to open the door.

‘Hello,’ I say, ‘you sure I can come in?’

He looks up from his desk and smiles. Small crowfeet appearing near the corners of his eyes, a tiny bit of evidence that he is genuinely happy to see me. ‘Of course Penny,’ he says, standing up from his seat. He walks towards the corner of his office, lifting some stuff up, to reveal a chair. He places it on the other side of his desk. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he says, holding out his hand.

All of this trouble for me? ‘I wasn’t planning on staying long.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says, waiting for me to take place on the chair and I quickly do so. When he sits on his own chair again, he asks: ‘How are you?’

That’s such a sweet and darling question of him. ‘I’m okay. I just came by to give you your sweater back.’ I pull it out of my bag and say: ‘Thank you for lending it to me.’

He nods. ‘Of course.’

‘I washed it,’ I add, ‘since I kinda dropped some hot sauce on it. I hope you like my laundry detergent.’

I hand it over the table to him and he presses his nose against the fabric. ‘It smells great, thanks.’

I smile at him, since I can’t really stop it. He is so different around me, then he is when he’s a professor. There is no annoyance, no boredom. Only adoration if I’m correct. It feels good to be on the receiving end of it. ‘That was all actually. For once I don’t have questions.’

‘I see,’ Walter says. ‘You got a lot of work to do?’

I shake my head. ‘No, not really. Just your class.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Anyways, I should go. I have a few things I have to pick up from the grocery store anyway. Forgot some things yesterday,’ I say.

Walter nods. ‘Of course.’ While I said I should go, I can’t seem to stand up. Walter tilts his head and asks: ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Nothing,’ I whisper.

‘Is it… The kiss?’ he carefully asks. ‘Because if it is, I have to apologize. I was crossing multiple lines with that.’

I shake my head. ‘No, Walter, don’t worry about it. I enjoyed it. It’s just… It was my first kiss.’

His eyes enlarge, nearly rolling out of his sockets. The surprised emotion is one I haven’t seen with him in real life. I actually thought nothing could startle him. ‘Your first kiss?’ he repeats. A few seconds pass by slowly as he runs his fingers through his disheveled curls. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

I shrug again. ‘I don’t know. It didn’t seem relevant.’

He sighs. ‘I’m so sorry, princess.’

‘There is nothing to worry about. If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad this was my first kiss.’

He leans back in his seat. ‘Penelope Townsend,’ he says, with a slight smile on his lips. ‘You’re quite something.’

Oh shit, he uses my full name. That… That can’t be good, right? Panic is taking over and I quickly say: ‘I really have to go.’ I grab my backpack and shoot out of his little office space, not even waiting for him to say something.

My brain is fried.

On autopilot, I managed to find my way to the grocery store, where I buy more instant noodles. I don’t know why, but I even grab some hair products for Walter. It’s getting ridiculous that I’m actually going to buy this, but on the other hand, he told me I could help him out with those slightly dry locks of his.

I spend little to no time in my dorm, because I am unable to stop thinking about Walter. I shouldn’t have left like that, I think to myself. He now must think I don’t like him, when in reality: I like him a lot.

As I am pacing through the room, nearly ripping out my hair out of pure frustration, I hear the rain against the window. It’s mild, especially if you compare it to the forecasted weather. I check my weather app and realize that with this type thunderstorm, I really don’t want to be alone here.

Without even thinking about the pros and cons of this plan, I pack some stuff I need and when I walk outside, the bus to his place is thankfully already there. The clouds are turning a darker shade of grey, as I’m hopelessly walking around the block after I got off the bus. My sense of direction is severely lacking and it takes me awhile before I even see his building.

It starts to pour and I turn into a shivering mess. By the time I’m at his door and knocked on it, I realize that I should’ve called.

This, Penelope Townsend, was a very poorly thought out plan. This is terribly rude and there is no turning back now. Oh no, what if he thinks that—

‘Hey,’ Walter says when he opens the door and smiles as he notices it’s me. ‘What are you doing here, princess?’

He doesn’t seem mad, that is a good sign. ‘I am terribly sorry, Walter, I really shouldn’t be here. I don’t know why I’m here even. Okay, I do know, because I don’t want to be alone with this weather, but I should’ve at least called you. I mean, you probably aren’t even in the mood to deal with me, which is totally understandable. I’m so sorry, please forget this ever happened and I’ll just go.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ he says, holding my wrist tightly in his large hand, not allowing me to leave. ‘Come in.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m very sure. They say it’s gonna be shitty weather anyway and I’d hate if you had to go back. Besides, you’re soaking wet.’

‘You really sure I’m not bothering you?’ I ask, as he gently pulls me inside, still unsure whether or not I’m welcome.

‘Positive.’ He helps me out of my coat and tells me I can change in the bathroom. He grabs some of his own clothing and hands it to me. ‘Now, I’m gonna tidy up in here a bit,’ he says, ‘because I left some crime scene pictures around.’

I smile as I grab the clothing. ‘I should’ve called,’ I try to sort of apologize again, but he is having none of it.

‘Nonsense,’ he says, ‘you don’t have to call. You are always welcome here.’ He places his hand on my cheek, before pressing a soft kiss on my forehead. ‘Besides, I’m glad you’re here. I kinda missed you.’

I let out a chuckle. ‘Walter, I’m sorry I left your office. I was freaking out.’

‘I know,’ he says. Of course he knew. ‘It’s okay, Penny.’

‘It is?’

He nods. ‘Now get changed, you’re freezing.’

✎ ✎ ✎

After I changed into some of his clothing and hung my own clothes over the heater, I walk back into the living room, only to see him preparing some dinner in the kitchen.

That is such a domestic move.

‘Thank you for letting me stay here,’ I say, causing him to look over his shoulder. ‘I’m not great with this kind of weather.’

‘Figured,’ he chuckles. ‘You’re afraid?’

‘No,’ I answer, as I walk up to the counter. ‘Absolutely not.’ Almost on cue, a loud bang of thunder fills the room, causing me to yelp. ‘Okay, maybe a little.’

Walter starts to laugh. When I’m within arm reach of him, he lifts me up on the counter like I weigh nothing to him. ‘Sit still and be pretty, okay?’

I frown. ‘How am I supposed to be pretty?’

‘By being yourself,’ he says, ‘and smile at me from time to time. Seems doable, right?’

‘I can try,’ I say, a smile already appearing on my face. ‘What are you making?’

‘Some pasta,’ he answers. ‘You like that?’

‘I do,’ I say, pushing my glasses better on my nose. ‘I really do. Especially when someone else makes it. Don’t you have that, when someone else makes the food, it automatically tastes better?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t.’

Leave it to him to be an exception. ‘Why not?’

‘I like making my own food,’ he says.

‘Hm.’ I lean my head back against the cupboard. ‘I really can’t cook well,’ I admit. ‘My mom was always the one that would make my meals back home. I’m a disaster in the kitchen, hence the reason I live on ramen, which I can easily screw up as well.’

Walter smiles, placing one hand on my leg, as he holds a wooden spoon to stir the sauce. ‘Here, taste this,’ he says, grabbing a string of pasta and blows on it so it can cool off a bit. He brings it to my lips and it’s such an automatic move to place my hand on his wrist.

‘It’s good,’ I say.

‘I’ll grab a plate for you. How about you get comfortable on the couch?’

I jump off the counter and walk towards the living room area. His couch looks kinda dull, in a beige tint that reminds me of my grandma’s wardrobe, but don’t be fooled: it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on. I grab a blanket and place it over my lap.

Walter joins me, handing me the plate with pasta and sits next to me. It only takes a second, before I flinch as the thunder is now accompanied by lighting. ‘You’re so easily scared,’ he snickers. Without me doing it on purpose, I scoot closer to him. I know he cannot psychically protect me against it, but not being alone with weather like this, is a relief itself. ‘Careful, princess,’ he says, ‘it’s hot.’

As we eat in silence, I keep thinking about what I can say to him. ‘I brought some hair stuff with me,’ I say. ‘Bought some today.’

‘For me?’

I nod. ‘For you,’ I confirm. ‘Maybe you want to use it.’

‘Or you use it on me,’ he says. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing anyway.’

As I finish the pasta (which was delicious), he takes the plate from my hands and places it on the coffee table next to his own empty plate. ‘Come here,’ he says, pulling me closer in his warm and protective arms.

I wonder whether or not it’s odd that I’m this comfortable with him this soon. I usually have a warm up period of at least a few weeks when I meet new people. When I worked in a cafe back in Japan during my gap year, it took me a month before I wasn’t painfully shy with some of my coworkers.

But with Walter, I am still shy and sometimes a bit awkward, but it doesn’t feel unpleasant. It’s like he understands and is patient with me.

I place my legs over his and hold his hand in both of mine. My fingers trace over his knuckles, where I notice some slight scarring. ‘How did you get this one?’

‘Bar fight,’ he says, ‘before I joined the academy.’

‘You were that type of guy?’

Walter doesn’t say anything and when I look up, I see he is not even looking at me. He is staring at the window. ‘Yeah, something like that. In case you wondered: he kinda asked for it.’

There is so much I want to ask him. What he was like when he grew up. What he thought of the academy. Interesting cases he solved.

However, a loud bang brutally interrupts my thoughts. At the exact same time, the lights shut off. My breathing stops. Oh no, a power cut? I’m so glad I’m not in my dorm alone. I might’ve called Walter crying, ask him to risk his life so he could pick me up.

Good thing I’m already here.

‘Great,’ he mumbles, turning on the flashlight on his phone. ‘There isn’t much I can do,’ he says, ‘except wait for it to come back. You want me to light some candles?’

I hate the dark this much, that I quickly say” ‘Please.’

He stands up, but I hold on tightly to his hand. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’

‘Can I walk with you?’

‘Of course.’ His fingers lace through mine and together we walk around his loft, looking for the candles and a lighter. We scatter them around the apartment and it gives a soft and warm ambiance, one that is slightly misplaced here in his loft. I can unclench my jaw from the painful grip and Walter pulls me back on the couch.

‘Did you feel awkward?’ I ask him. ‘In class today?’

He shakes his head. ‘But I know you did.’

I purse my lips together, as I feel completely caught. ‘Was I that obvious?’

‘Not to others, but to me you were.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t apologize for that. I just wished I knew what I could do for you to feel less awkward about it.’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. Never thought my first… Whatever we have, would have to be in secret.’

He sighs, clearly agreeing with me. ‘I wish I could show you off,’ he says. ‘Wish I could tell Fitzgerald to stop ogling you.’

‘He doesn’t do that,’ I say.

Walter scoffs. ‘He totally does. It’s not even subtle anymore.’

I place my head against his chest, melting in his arms. I close my eyes, as I enjoy being engulfed in the warmness and protectiveness of his embrace.

No one has ever held me like this before.

‘Walter, why me?’

‘What?’ he asks.

‘Why are you even paying attention to me? I’m such a nobody.’

‘You’re not a nobody,’ Walter retorts. ‘I like you, Penny. You have an ethereal beauty, combined with an adorable and kind nature. It’s so rare to meet someone like you. I see that there is so much potential in you, no matter what you choose later on in life. It’s just that you don’t know it yet, which is such a shame really. Besides, princess, I’m not risking my job for simply anyone.’

As much as him being my professor should turn me away from it all, should make me walk towards the door and not associate myself with him anymore, I don’t feel that way. Part of me wants to hide my smile, but I can’t. ‘I kinda like you too.’

‘Just kinda?’ he asks, pretending to be offended. ‘What can I do to change that?’

I smile. ‘Kiss me again.’

He doesn’t answer, simply leaning towards me to press his soft lips on mine. One of hands squeezes my thigh, as I wrap my arms around his neck. It feels so good to kiss him. ‘Can’t believe yesterday was your first kiss,’ he whispers against my lips. ‘You’re quite talented, princess.’

‘I just follow your lead. I think that says more about your kissing skills than mine.’

‘Knew you were an excellent student.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The lights aren’t restored by the time I grow more and more tired. It’s Walter actually that tells me to go to bed. When I’m tucked away underneath the blankets in just his thick sweater, he sits on the edge of the bed. ‘I want you to be honest,’ he says in a stern voice. ‘Do you want me to sleep here or on the couch?’

It’s a sweet thing of him to ask, especially since it did cross my mind a few times. I grab his hand, my thumb caressing his knuckles. ‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

‘Why are you hesitating?’

‘Because… I don’t want you to think I’m a prude or anything.’

He smiles. ‘Princess, I can sleep on the couch. Don’t worry.’

I blink my eyes a few times, slightly nervous. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. Just call for me when you need me, okay?’

‘Okay.’

He gives me a quick and loving kiss on my lips. Checking with me one last time, he carefully makes his way back to the living room. While I can hear him making himself comfortable on the couch, I roll around the bed. There is an inability of mine to fall asleep, something I barely encounter. There is this annoying, but also terrifying ticking like sound against the window and I can’t wrap my mind around it what exactly makes that noise.

The thunder and lightening are dominating the skies and my state of mind.

‘Walter?’ I finally ask him, after rolling around, being all ears and incapable of falling asleep for at least an hour. It takes only a few seconds before he walks into the bedroom. His hair is disheveled and he looks like a sleepy owl in a cartoon. It’s adorable, a word I never expected to use to describe him.

‘What’s wrong, princess?’ he asks me.

‘What is that noise?’

‘Just the water and a branch. It usually taps against the window from time to time.’

‘Oh, okay,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry to wake you.’

‘Don’t be,’ he says. He leans against the doorframe. Despite it being dark, I can still see the contours of his large body. ‘You seem wide awake.’

‘I am,’ I admit. ‘It’s just that I can’t sleep. There is too much noise here I don’t know.’

‘Want me to join you?’

I nod, only to realize he might not be able to see it. ‘Please.’

He walks over to the bed and gets in underneath the covers. I can already feel his warm body heat closer to mine and I hold my breath. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Walter chuckles. ‘It’s just me.’

I can’t stop being “ridiculous”. I mean, I am completely overstepping all sorts of boundaries. I mean, I’m in my professors loft. The same professor who I kissed. Whose clothes I’m wearing.

Who I’m severely falling for.

Walter holds out his arm and I turn to my side, nuzzling against his warm frame. He only wears a simple shirt and a pair of boxers. ‘Why are you shivering?’

‘I’m a little scared.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s just all those new sounds and a different bed,’ I mumble. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You have nothing to worry about,’ he says. I place my chin on his chest. As my eyes get used the dark, I can sort of see more of his face. I don’t have my glasses on, so it stay slightly blurry. ‘Nothing is gonna happen to you now, princess,’ he continues to say. ‘Not when I’m here.’

I smile. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘It’s just all so new to me.’

‘Yet you adapt perfectly fine.’

I bite my bottom lip. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ He places his hand on my cheek and leans a bit forward, planting a soft kiss on my lips. It’s not my plan to deepen the kiss, but when someone’s lips taste this good, of course I don’t mind deepening it. His teeth slowly sink into my bottom lip, careful not to hurt me.

When he lets go of me, his hot breath tickles my already sensitive lips. Walter presses a kiss on my nose and whispers: ‘Go to sleep, princess. You seem tired.’

‘I am,’ I chuckle. ‘Quite the detective you are.’

✎ ✎ ✎

The next morning when I wake up, I’m still engulfed in Walter’s arms. He looks so innocent and vulnerable when he sleeps. His hand has slipped underneath my shirt, his warm palm on my back. For a second, my mind wanders to a time where it’s more than this. More than just a hand on my bare back.

It’s about him seeing me naked, him touching me and whispering sweet nothings in my ears.

It doesn’t take long for Walter to wake up as well and he smiles when he sees I’m already up. ‘I don’t mind waking up like this,’ he admits. ‘Seeing your beautiful face first thing in the morning is a lovely surprise.’

Don’t blush, Penny. Don’t you dare blush.

‘Give me a kiss, princess,’ he says.

‘I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,’ I mumble.

‘Doesn’t matter to me.’ He leans in to give me a gentle peck on my lips, followed by a few more. I giggle against him, as his fingers softly—and probably unintentionally—tickle my sides. ‘I’ll go see if the power is back on,’ he says. ‘Want something to eat?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t really matter what.’

Walter kisses me one more time, before he gets up out of bed. It doesn’t take long before I slip out of the bed as well, putting on some socks and sweatpants.

This morning is the prime example of how a domestic couple behaves. I always envied my parents, for being able to find the love of their lives, living according to a certain routine with one another. I remember sitting at the dinner table, watching them dancing in the kitchen as mom would make dinner. I remember sitting in the backseat, hearing my parents sing along with the radio.

They have always been outgoing people, in complete contrast to me. Mom always comforted me telling me that one day I would find my soulmate. Dad always told me that the so called soulmate had to be approved by him.

I wonder what would happen if they found out I met Walter. It’s way too early to think about that, but my brain isn’t stopping this thought process. Especially when Walter lifts me up the counter. When he presses mindless kisses on my forehead. When he lets me use some of the products on his hair. He smiles when I massage his scalp as I’m washing his hair over the stink and use the conditioner on his dry hair.

It’s great to see Walter with his guard a bit down. Allowing me to see who he is hiding when he’s teaching and maybe when he was at work as a detective as well. His touches are soft, are kind and not once is he overstepping. He carefully reads me and my body language.

But at one point, I realize that it’s time for me to go back. My mom used to say to leave a party when it’s still fun, instead of waiting for the awkward moment where you are practically forced to leave after you overstayed.

With his curls nice dried and less frizzy, he drives me back towards the train station and the parking lot and the station itself are almost vacant. People are probably still hiding inside their houses, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of the storm yet.

‘I hate that I have to drop you off here,’ he admits. ‘You have to walk for a while. Wait, I have an idea, you call me as you walk towards your dorm. I’ll leave here when I know you’re safe and sound in your room, okay?’

‘You really don’t have to do that,’ I chuckle. ‘I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.’

‘I know that,’ he says, ‘but I care a little too much about you. I don’t want anything to happen, okay?’

It’s nice to be taken care of like this. I could get used to this. ‘Okay,’ I say, before I give him a kiss. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you too, princess.’ He pulls out his phone and says: ‘I’ll call you in a second.’

A second truly is a second, because my phone rings when I close the door. ‘Really?’ I ask him as I pick up the phone, still being able to see him.

‘Yes, really.’

I wave at him, as I walk towards the dormitory building, which is about a ten minute walk. ‘You have a cute walk,’ he says, when I’m out of sight for him. ‘There’s almost a little skip in it.’

‘Way to make me more self conscious than I already was.’

‘Ah, princess,’ he says, ‘don’t be like that. You have nothing to be self conscious about. You’re beautiful, you’re cute and you are the sweetest thing alive.’

‘Don’t say stuff like that. I’m blushing.’

I can hear his chuckles from the other side of the line. ‘Where are you now?’

‘I can see the dorms already. You really want me to call you until I’m in my room?’

‘Yes.’

I can’t argue with that determination. While I simply chat to him about the damage done by the storm, I see Fitzgerald near the entrance. Great, I really can’t use this now.

‘There she is,’ he says, when I open the door and walk passed him to get inside.

‘Is that who I think it is?’ Walter asks me.

‘Yes.’

‘He does that often?’

Correct me if I’m wrong, but he sounds kinda possessive. ‘Sometimes.’

‘Sugar plum,’ Fitzgerald says as he follows me inside. ‘I have a question for you.’

‘I’m on the phone,’ I tell him, hoping it’s enough for him to get lost. ‘Can’t really wait.’

It seems like he didn’t pick up on the underlying no in my answer. ‘Where have you been?’ Fitzgerald asks me.

My mouth grows dry. Does he know? Have Walter and I not been subtle enough? Oh my gosh, Fitzgerald totally knows. Do not start hyperventilate, stay calm, Penny. ‘Ask him if he’s stalking you,’ I hear Walter’s soft tone in my ear.

That seems doable. ‘You stalking me?’

He must be surprised that those words roll out of my mouth. I mean, I didn’t expect them from me either. ‘No, just wondering. Saw you getting on a bus after class.’

‘He really is stalking you,’ Walter says in my ear.

‘Sounds like you’re stalking me after all.’ Oh my goodness, Penny! What on earth is happening? I don’t know if I was supposed to repeat that.

Fitzgerald is flabbergasted to say the least and he actually walks away. Did I just do that? ‘He’s gone,’ I whisper.

‘That’s my girl,’ Walter chuckles. ‘Proud of you, princess. Asshole really doesn’t take no for an answer. I am tempted to fail him for my class.’

I start to laugh, as I make my way to my dorm. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I hate his guts.’

‘Don’t use the word hate,’ I scold him. ‘Instead, use the word despise.’

‘Not with him, I won’t.’

I quickly walk up the stairs and let out a deep sigh when I’m back in my own dorm. ‘I arrived safe and sound in my room,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you for letting me stay over at your place. I really don’t do well in thunderstorms.’

‘Of course,’ he says, and I can almost hear the grin in his voice. ‘Can’t have you alone during a power cut. Also, it’s quite nice not to be alone.’

A certain vulnerability I was not expecting from him, let alone over the phone. ‘It sure was,’ I agree.

‘I’ll call you later,’ he tells me.

‘Alright, of course.’

‘Take care, princess.’

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x asian ofc #walter marshall x penny townsend #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x penny townsend #asian ofc #penny townsend #but professor

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Sorry if this one is a bit shorter. I didn't want to make part 7 insanely long so I just split the story in a way that made sense to me. Y/n lets Hannibal take care of the mess and narrowly avoids a mental breakdown in a CVS.

Trigger warning: blood, violence, gaslighting, ⚠️emetophobia⚠️

You stood up from your seat, your brain refusing to process what just happened.

"Oh look." You said, pointing down. "Her face landed in the glass and there's blood everywhere."

Hannibal casually glanced over the table. The ends of his mouth turned up slightly. "So there is."

The reality of the situation was just starting to set in. You took a deep breath in, expecting to scream, but nothing came out. Instead, you finished your glass of wine.

Noticing your distress, Hannibal crossed the floor and took a knee beside her. He pressed his fingers against her neck.

“She’s alive.” He assured you. “For now.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed, and the indecision made you panic even more. “So what do we do now? What do I do now?”

“Well,” Hannibal stood up. “She’s pretty severely concussed and losing a lot of blood. We could call an ambulance. With proper medical care and immediate action, she’ll probably live.”

You froze in your spot and stared blankly off into the distance. You didn’t feel overly compelled to call for help. You were too overwhelmed with emotion to move much, anyway. You felt your soul leaving your body.

“...But I take it by your inaction,” Hannibal piped up. “That you’re open to an alternate plan?”

“Huh?” You snapped out of your trance.

Hannibal closed the space between you. He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb running comfortingly along your cheek. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t fully know what you were agreeing to, but you didn’t care. “Of course I do.”

“Then listen to me very carefully, [Y/N].” Hannibal’s voice hardened with severity. “Go upstairs and change back into your day clothes. Then, I want you to drive to the pharmacy and withdraw some cash from the ATM. Then stay in the store until I call you, understood?”

You nodded.

“Go now.” He ordered, pulling away from you.

You sprinted up the stairs, tore off your gown and pulled the nearest pair of pants over your legs in one fluid motion. You grabbed a shirt and a hoodie hanging over a chair and snatched up your car keys. In a moment, you were out the door and behind the wheel, speeding away from the crime scene.

The pharmacy was the only place open so late at night. You pulled into the parking lot and selected one of the many vacant spots. You took your key out of the ignition and prepared yourself for an onslaught of emotion. But it didn’t come.

You sat in the driver’s seat, replaying the scene in your head over and over again. One second, the bottle was in your hand, the next, it was breaking every bone in Theresa’s face. You could have very well taken a life that day. But it wasn’t an innocent person on the road, it was Theresa. The same Theresa that put Nair in her sister’s shampoo and lobbied against child labor laws. And she died the way she lived; running her stupid mouth, waiting for someone to shut her up.

You were more terrified of Hannibal's response than anything else. He seemed too enthusiastic to cover your tracks for you. Like he was returning to some favorite game he hadn't picked up in a while.

You shuffled across the parking lot to the ATM. Why did Hannibal need cash? Was he going to pay someone off? He didn't specify how much he needed. Was $100 enough to bribe the police? You settled on $100.

The bright fluorescent lights scalded your eyes. You needed to look like you were there for a reason. Grabbing a basket, you tried to distract yourself by going through the shopping list for your apartment.

Toilet paper, hand sanitizer, and body wash. Pilar is allergic to coconut oil so we need to check the ingredients. You found yourself narrating the shopping list in your head, even though it was one you ran down hundreds of times. You knew which brand of body wash to get Pilar, but you were grabbing random soaps and thumbing through the ingredients anyway.

On your way to the cough syrups, you felt a terrible pain in your stomach. You caved around the pain, regretting devouring that pot-au-feu so quickly. When you opened your eyes again, you saw them: the pregnancy tests.

No. You said to yourself. I am not going to keep Theresa alive by letting her get into my head.

As if on cue, another pang of pain reverberated from your core. It was bad enough Theresa had you doubting your memories, now she had you doubting your own body. She couldn’t possibly know your own body better than you, and she was out of line to suggest so.

But, whether you wanted to accept it or not, Theresa had planted the seed in your brain. You wanted so badly to claw it out with your bare hands. The most painless route, though, was to purchase one of those tests and prove her wrong.

In the meantime, you assured yourself she was wrong. You hadn't missed a day of birth control since the tenth grade. Regardless, the pregnancy test in your basket weighed a ton.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, sending you flying out of your skin. The lone cashier took notice.

"You okay, miss?"

You nodded, though you were so clearly not okay. With a trembling hand, you brought the phone up to your ear. "Hello?"

"It's safe now, darling." Hannibal said. "You can come home."

He said it so candidly, it was obvious that he'd done it before.

"Okay, baby, I'll see you at home." You answered, a little too loudly. As the words left your mouth you felt stupid. You'd never once called Hannibal 'baby' and you sure as hell weren't gonna start today.

You brought your items to the cashier, the pain in your stomach worsening. You made a point to waddle back to the medicine aisle and grab some painkillers before the cashier could finish ringing everything up.

By the time you were back behind the wheel, you were fighting the urge to drive off a cliff. The pain in your stomach was unbearable and you had no idea where it was coming from. It had to be psychosomatic. Your body was compensating for the shortcomings of your brain. You knew you were supposed to feel guilty but you just didn't, and your body was punishing you for it.

At home you were clutching the toilet, vomiting your guts out. Hannibal was at your side, gently stroking your hair. Again, acting as candidly as if he were nursing a hangover.

"I'm so sorry." You croaked, lifting your head from the toilet. "I don't know what this is. I didn't even drink that much."

"Don't apologize." He said, calmly. He stood up, filled a glass with water and offered it to you. "You're overwhelmed. It's natural."

"You say this like you've done this before." You joked, though you knew you were right. You clutched the glass with both hands, the coolness feeling good against your hot skin.

Hannibal took a knee beside you. His finger found a blade of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. "Now, we're not going to tell anyone about this, are we?"

He was fully aware of how intimidating he really was.

"I would never." You traced an x over your heart. "Swear on my grandfather's grave."

"Good girl." He traced your jawline with his finger. "Your intuition is as sharp as ever, I see."

You took a long sip of water. "Huh?"

"Don't insult your own intelligence, you know what I mean."

"You've hidden bodies before." You inferred, sitting up.

"I've done more than hide bodies, love, and I think you know that." Hannibal corrected.

Your first instinct was to stand up and get more wine, but moving too fast made you dizzy. "...so did it hurt?"

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"When Theresa died." You said, quietly. "Did she hurt at all?"

This pleased and surprised him to hear. "No. She was so heavily concussed, I doubt she felt anything."

You frowned. "Damn."

"Did you have something else in mind?"

Theresa's last words rung over in your head. 'I didn't think you had it in you'. The thoughts flooding your mind, about how Theresa would go were it up to you, assured you that you did in fact have it in you.

"I would have liked to see her suffer a little." You muttered under your breath.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." He smiled and offered you his hand. "Come on, love. Let's get you cleaned up."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #mads mikkelsen #cult girl

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soliverse · 3 years

Text

don’t call me - k.dy

(sequel to call me a fool. you can read this by itself, but some references would make more sense if you read the first part.)

reader x bestfriend!doyoung

genre: so much angst, slight fluff

warnings: none

word count: 3.85k

synopsis: Doyoung missed an important milestone in your life. Now, it’s your turn to miss his calls.

prompt:

Ghost Of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, part of the Heartbreak Hotel collab by @nct-writers

dedication to:

@hunjins for leaving witty comments during beta reading

@johnyusangel for being my guardian angel during beta and when I was dying over a migraine + Qian Kun

@hxneyy-latte for nursing me back to health lol

taglist: @kunrengui (sorry this took a while 😔), @leolo404 @byeolhyesisi @thesongofdragons

networks: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

Every day, your routine starts with staring at your phone for a few hours before getting out of bed. You'd check in all of your messaging apps to see if any of them came from Doyoung. Sadly, there's none of it this morning.

You would drag your mopey ass out of bed and start the day with dread, questioning why he hasn’t replied to your last text. Then, as you brush your teeth, you would check once again to see if you missed anything while you are preoccupied with oral hygiene.

The inbox notifications would still say zero. And then you'd wait… and wait… and wait some more hours, even days before he replies back.

Every time Doyoung refuses to reply to your messages soon, you get this sudden urge to bang your head into a wall, cursing yourself for texting him in the first place. You will then start to question your life choices, why you even texted him in the first place when you knew this is bound to happen. And that you probably sounded too clingy, too cheesy for his liking. Your thoughts filled as to why he refused to reply as soon as he could.

You sighed and placed your phone back into your pocket and proceeded to go on with your day. The academy is about to open and you have practice for your upcoming recital the following day.

You kept your phone around your vicinity even as you practiced. It's a good thing that your vocal mentor isn't here to point out your mistakes, but you're trying to hit every note as clean as you can. A feat that is impossible to do when you're completely distracted by something.

Doyoung: Hey.

That one word is enough to wash all of the worries that you had earlier. You once again attempted to bang your head into the wall, now cursing yourself for changing your emotions so quickly.

You kept your phone back at your table, practicing for a few more minutes before answering the text. This time, you sang with a smile on your lips, the burden of your worries suddenly lifted with a single word.

But that's just how it always is with you and your best friend.

Now, if you can only tell him how you feel.

///

You bowed at everyone for doing a great job at practice. You happily fished out your phone from your pocket to reply to Doyoung's earlier text.

You: Are you free this Saturday?

You placed your phone down for a moment to fix your stuff, but a ding! interrupted you midway and you just couldn’t help but look at his reply.

Doyoung: Not at all. Need help with something?

Your smile grew wider and you texted the details of your recital for Saturday. You've worked on the piece so hard that you wanted to share your success with him, just like he would share his with you.

The rest of the day went smoothly. It was full of wishful thinking and daydreams. And if it goes well, it might be the day that you tell him about how you really feel about him.

///

It was the day of the recital and your hands were shaking out of nervousness. Your grip on the mic was getting tighter, if not sweatier, as you heard the crowds forming outside to see you and your classmates perform.

The soundcheck commenced and they started calling all the participants by their name as they came on stage. You heard nothing besides your own heartbeat and your loud thoughts whenever you overthink. But you reassured yourself that you will do a good job.

You had to. Someone was watching and you wanted to make him proud.

Fiddling on your seat, you waited for a few numbers before it was your turn. You nervously walked out the stage, and you were blinded by the lights coming from the back of the theater. It was probably for the good.

You couldn’t see anyone’s faces.

You couldn’t see his face.

Because if you could, you would’ve choked on your words and hit the notes wrong once again. Thankfully, the performance went better than you expected.

As soon as everyone came together for the curtain call, your eyes wandered to see Doyoung among the crowds. You scanned left and right, but there were no signs of him everywhere in the theater.

You consoled yourself with the fact that he probably went to the bathroom, or he was already backstage waiting for you. He couldn’t possibly miss this day, right?

The first thing that you did after coming down the stage was to have a closer look at the seats, just to make sure that he really was there in the crowd. Everyone else had their families with them, their friends, their lovers.

But there were no signs of Doyoung in the crowd.

You tried hard to smile as everyone who passed by you congratulated you for doing a great job. But once again, you were distracted. Your mind was occupied with thoughts that you never expected to have that day.

Did he really forget about you?

Giving up completely, you made your way back backstage and hid your impending tears to everyone. On your way, you saw Johnny, waving a small bouquet of flowers to get your attention. This sparked a tiny bit of hope in you. If Johnny was around, then Doyoung must have been here somewhere, too.

You ran towards Johnny and gave him the tightest bear hug. You were worried that no one really watched you perform today. Your family lives abroad and they couldn’t make it to watch you, but you promised them that you will send them a video of you singing. You were really counting on Doyoung not only to watch you perform, but to film your performance as well.

He must have been here somewhere.

“Thank God you came. I thought nobody saw me perform earlier,” you were once again on the verge of crying, but you didn’t have the heart to ask Johnny if Doyoung was indeed with him.

“Doyoung couldn’t make it today. He had to go out with the whole crew of his drama to celebrate their last day together. I came as soon as I heard about your performance.”

You fell quiet, breathing deep to hide your tears and your disappointment. But Johnny knew how you felt, so he pulled you tighter against him, completely encasing you completely on his embrace. “Don’t feel sad. You did so well today.”

///

Ever since then, you stopped taking calls from Doyoung. He would persistently call and text you every night to say sorry. Any other day, you would’ve been glad to see that finally, he’s the one that’s trying so hard to reach you. Sadly, you’re in no mood to talk to him.

You thought it would’ve been cruel if you blocked his number from your phone, so you instead tried to text him excuses why you couldn’t talk.

You were tired. You went out with a friend. You just wanted to take some rest.

After hitting send, you tossed your phone in your bed, still feeling upset about him missing such an important day to you. You felt set aside like you’re the last person on his priority list.

That day made you realize that you’re spending way too much energy on someone that doesn’t return the favor. It was an unhealthy behavior that you need to get out of your system as soon as possible, even if that means cutting Doyoung from your life temporarily.

///

Doyoung was surprised to see you at the front door of the 127 dorm one day. You tried smiling at him as he opened the door to let you in, pretending that you were not upset with him in the previous days.

“Surprised you’re not busy today,” you remarked as you sat down, clearly aiming at Doyoung who was now feeling lost at your coldness towards him.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Not at all,” you tried your best to avoid his gaze because one look at your face would definitely give everything away. You didn’t want to lie to him, but it was better than saying that you were mad because you had feelings for him.

“Anyways, where’s Johnny? He invited me to watch a movie this afternoon.”

“Didn’t you tell me that you had practice today? That’s why you couldn’t meet me?”

You sneered internally.

“Yeah. Sometimes people say one thing and then they actually mean another thing. You of all people should know.”

You saw Johnny coming out of his room, fully dressed and ready for your movie night together. You waved one last goodbye at Doyoung, who just realized that you were roasting him the whole time.

///

The passive-aggressiveness went on for a few more occasions. You refused his attempts to talk to you, knowing full well that your cold facade would wear off instantly once you let him. You wanted to talk to him so bad, but your pride was preventing you from making any rash decisions. You couldn’t just go back to living your life as Doyoung’s doormat. But, as per Johnny’s advice, you got to explain to him why you were feeling that way. He at least deserved that much.

That explanation came sooner than you had expected.

You were spending a lot of time with Johnny lately, but only because he treats you like a little sister. He must’ve missed his own sister back at home, so he was making sure to take care of you as much as he could.

But Doyoung didn’t have to know that.

You had noticed the tension between the two of them whenever you would visit their dormitory. Johnny was just a bit irked at Doyoung because you were hurting, but he understood it from his perspective. He never knew how you felt in the first place, he wouldn’t have known how much he hurt you in the process.

What goes on in Doyoung’s brain though, you have no idea. He usually just stays away from the both of you whenever you’ve come to visit them, maybe throw in a couple of pleasantries before asking you to hang out with him once again. You kept on telling him that you will once you’re not busy with the academy, and then proceeds to forget about it on that same day.

One day, he’s finally had enough and decided to block the door when you were about to leave the dorm room.

"There's nothing to talk about Doyoung."

You tried to step out once again, but he didn't even budge from his place.

"Can you just tell me what I did? I already said sorry about not attending your recital. What else do you want me to do?"

You lowered your head and tried to leave again, determined not to answer his questions. But he's just as stubborn as you are, this time pushing you slightly, just enough to make you step back.

Your fists formed into a ball and your lips pursed in annoyance. Why does he care about you so much now that you're staying away from him?

"Let me leave, Doyoung. Johnny is waiting for me," you said as calmly as you could.

"Is that it? You're replacing me with Johnny? Just because of that one mistake? What kind of friendship is that?" Doyoung's voice went up a few notches, now looking as visibly upset as you are.

"I can't be your friend anymore, Doyoung," silence filled the room as soon as you said that statement. You both stare at each other awkwardly, both of you are still in a state of shock.

"I don't think this is the perfect time to tell you this, but you have to know eventually," grasping the straps of your handbag, you braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I have feelings for you Doyoung. That's why I was so hurt that you didn't attend the recital," you paused for a bit, biting your lower lip to hold yourself back from tearing up.

"It made me realize that my life, everything about me, revolves around you. I would literally drop everything when you say you need me. And yet, I'm so far away from your priority list that you can't even sit down for a few minutes to watch me perform," you felt a bit of moisture from your cheeks. Tears were already falling from your face without you even realizing it.

You wiped your tears away with your sleeves and you held yourself back from sobbing to proceed to talk.

"But it's not your fault. I was the one at fault for lending you my time, and I was the one at fault for setting high expectations for someone who just treats me as a friend," you smiled weakly as you walked towards him one last time.

"So for now, I can't be your friend anymore. Not until I sort my feelings out and make things more awkward for us. Give me time for myself, Doyoung. I'll try to be a better friend soon."

You smiled as you lowered your head once again, your shoulders brushing over when you left the room. You didn't try to look back and walked as fast as possible, holding yourself together just before you reached the exit.

You ran out of their apartment building and as soon as you found a place where you can hide, you finally let yourself go. You sat there balling your eyes out and looked around for signs of your best friend. When you realized that he didn't even make an effort to comfort or follow you, your sobs got even louder as you sat down on the pavement to hug your knees.

"Go on... Let it out."

Someone sat down with you and started patting your back to comfort you. You raised your head and cleared the hair strands that stuck to your face to see who it is. It was Johnny.

"I saw everything that happened. I'm happy that you finally told him."

He rubbed your shoulders to calm you down once again, offering you his handkerchief so you could wipe your tears out. Once you finally managed to stop crying, he stood up from his seat and placed his hands on the pockets of his hoodie.

"If you need to cry all day, I'll be here."

///

Doyoung proved that your presence left a big mark that he never realized before. He thought he was just confused at first, or that he was just getting used to not being able to contact you whenever he could.

Just that evening, he was having a hard time memorizing the new choreography for their comeback. He kept on messing up one of the killing parts and everyone was frustrated that they couldn't move on to the other parts of the choreography. He felt sorry for everyone, so he left practice early to work on it himself without burdening the other members. His first instinct was the grab his phone and listen to your soothing voice, telling him to cheer up and that he will do better tomorrow.

But as soon as he was about to hit the dial button, it pained him to press the back button instead, stuffing the phone into his sweatpants and he wiped the sweat off of him.

He felt very heaviness, even more, when he was changing, basically ripping the door of his locker as he took its contents to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling of sweat. He was both mad and upset at the same time, almost ripping a part of his shirt when he was about to put it on.

He hasn't felt like this in a very long time and he needed a way to get things off of his chest. But without you to do it, it was practically impossible.

He grabbed his matching hat and jacket, stuffing his dirty clothes on his backpack and he made his way out of the building.

He made sure that no one saw him in that state, especially Haechan, who gave him so much shit when everybody found out about your confession.

"Everyone knew, you dumbass."

He just wished somebody would've told him sooner, but he knew it wasn't their place to tell him about it. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

His heavy footsteps dragged him to the ramen shop that you used to go to together. He stopped coming here when he lost contact with you, and instead of making him feel better, it made him even more upset upon the reminder of how he fucked up. But he needed a way to make himself feel better. Ramen worked back then. Maybe it would work right now.

He made the choice to not sit down at your usual spot, the one closest to the kitchen so you would get your meals as soon as you could. He instead opted for one of the corners. It felt awkward, but he was there to eat, not enjoy the ambiance. He ordered a bowl to himself, something that he wasn't used to seeing on the table. The bowl of ramen looked so empty on the table by itself, and so he ordered a lot of side dishes with a few bottles of soju to comfort himself.

To his surprise, he was served by the same auntie that used to tease you and him before when the two of you used to go to this place. He hoped that she wouldn't recognize and ask for your whereabouts, but he was very unlucky that day.

"Oh. It's been a while since I saw you! How are you?"

Doyoung just bowed to the auntie and told him that he was fine and that he missed eating there for the longest time.

"I'm glad that I finally get to see you! You missed your friend though, she just left earlier."

He was put to a halt. Something about you being mentioned sparked something in him. Although, he wasn't able to pinpoint what that feeling was at that time.

"I think she was showing the place to another friend of yours. The big guy ate a lot, so we're worried for a bit that we’re about to close early for today."

Doyoung felt his heart sink, but he still bowed and thanked the auntie for the meal.

He stared at the contents of his table for a while, but you would always remind him that the soup tasted better when it's still hot. For some reason though, the bowl of ramen wasn't as tasty as it used to be. He used to finish bowls of that same ramen before, but he couldn't even manage to finish one. He knew better than to waste food though, so he forced himself to eat the rest of it and jumped out of there as soon as he could.

The ramen certainly didn't make him feel better.

///

It's been weeks and the first thing that Doyoung did after waking up was to open his phone for messages. There were a few of them, most of it coming from the other members, but he wasn't interested in reading in any of them.

Getting out of bed seemed harder than usual. He felt a few pounds heavier, which meant he either gained weight or he just lost the will to get up from his bed.

He tried not to stare at his phone as he brushed his teeth, so he kept them hidden in his pocket and used all of his wills to not check on it every hour.

He noticed that there was a bit of commotion coming from outside. He paid no attention and went back to his usual morning routine, getting ready for a separate schedule that he had that morning. He went to his room to get dressed and pack the things that he may need that day. Once everything was done, he went to the kitchen to tell everyone that he was going, but he was met with something else instead.

The rest of the boys were gathered up around the table, enjoying breakfast that he assumed that you made. You just stood there happily as you served everyone pieces of the omelet that you made. You turned around in his direction and he was met with that smile that he missed so much.

"Doie, would you like some?"

The nickname made him flinch. It was something that you never used on him before, but it was enough to make him look away and step out of the room immediately.

"I'm good. I just came to say goodbye to everyone."

"Oh good!" you said as you gathered your things and stuffed them neatly in your tote bag. "I just came here to drop some food because this guy said that he wasn’t feeling well. Let's go together," you said as you tiptoed your way out of the tight kitchen, messing Johnny's hair before you finally stepped out of the room.

"Let's go?" you asked giddily as you grabbed Doyoung's arm and waved to everybody goodbye. He finally realized what you must've felt when it was the other way around.

The walk towards the bus stop was a quiet one. None of you dared to talk. But he noticed that the spring of your step is back, if not better than before. Meanwhile, he was just walking there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to you because of how he left things the last time that you talked. He wanted to talk to you for the longest time, but he respected your wishes to be alone. Now he was regretting making that decision.

The both of you stood there at the nearest bus stop, the atmosphere is even quieter since it was just the two of you standing there.

"I missed you Doie," you spoke, breaking the silence between you too.

"I was hoping that we can talk right after this. You know, just to clear the air."

He remained quiet in his place, not really knowing how to respond to her.

"Meet me at the ramen place later?"

"Sure," Doyoung almost hit himself for answering so soon. To him, he sounded very eager to eat with you once again.

The bus finally arrived and you stepped inside, making your way into the seat. His stare lingered at you for a while, to see if you would look around like how you always did when he sent you home. You took those same steps, hesitating at the eighth one to see if he still stuck around to look at you.

You hesitantly sat back down in your seat, unsure as to whether he finally looked back at you when you were about to leave.

You never saw him though, because he asked you to sit down and within a split second, he was gone from your view.

Guess you're just gonna have to find out tonight.

xxx

243 notes · View notes

godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 3 years

Text

On A Tropical Island

Jaune: Great. Just great. Now I’m lost and all my friends are missing too! I’m too angry to be depressed!

Neo: *Head pops out of the sand, spitting it everywhere*

Jaune: Oh, even better. Now I have company. This can’t possibly get any worse! *Ignores Neo glaring*

-----------------

Jaune: Stop following me! You’re a bad girl!

Neo: *Cocks eyebrow*

Jaune: *Blushes* Not what I meant! I mean you’re evil! And all you’ve done to help so far is poke me with a stick! *Is poked with a stick* Dammit, stop that!

Neo: *Pokes him in the butt instead*

Jaune: OW! That’s not what I meant you menace!

Neo: *Preens at being called a menace*

Jaune: And stop trying to be cute, too!

-----------------

Neo: *Tapping bare foot*

Jaune: Okay, so maybe my sense of direction isn’t the best. *gets The Look* Alright alright already, jeez. We’re back where we started, your shoes, your jacket and my armor are now forever lost to the wilds and it’s not my fault!

Neo: *Stares*

Jaune: *Shifts guiltily* Okay maybe it is, but if I had a map *Neo crosses her arms, reigniting The Look™ * we’d still probably be lost since the rest of team RNJR banned me from the map after reading it backwards and upside down.

Neo: *Nods firmly, taking the lead*

Jaune: For the fourth time.

Neo: *Turns, gapes in shock, shakes her head and grabs him by the hand*

Jaune: *Offended* Hey, I’m not a child! I won’t get lost!

Neo: *Looks at him through her eyelashes*

Jaune: *Sighs* Okay, fine. But only because getting lost in a weird jungle is way worse than getting lost in the grocery store at 14.

Neo: *Stops, removes belt, ties end around his wrist and grabs the other end*

Jaune: *Starts whining*

-----------------

Jaune: Dear diary *ignores Neo’s pointing and silent laughter* today is day 17 on the worst island to ever exist. Butthole and I -- OW, SHIT-FUCK-SHIT! I really hate that you sharpened your stick into a spear! Fine, Neo and I finally have a a good system in place for food. We’ve got our firepit, Neo turned my armor we found into a pan, one pot and a skillet, my impeccable home economics have saved our asses and we’ve got a spit for roasting things over the fire!

Neo: *Munches happily on roast rabbit*

Jaune: It’s really working out! Neo’s great at the spotting and tracking, I get to use the spear to hunt and there’s plenty of these really stupid semi-intelligent rabbits that seem to have a language of their own that are really good when you cook ‘em just right. *Pauses* I think they might have stolen my shirt though, I haven’t seen that thing in like four days.

Neo: *Mentally reminds herself to burn the eye candy’s shirt before he finds it*

-----------------

Day 28

Jaune: Ow, stop kicking me! I said I was sorry!

Neo: *Jumps on Jaune, bites his ear*

Jaune: AAAGGHH!!! Dammit Neo, how many times do I have to tell you not to bite me! It’s not my fault that seagull stole your hat! In case you hadn’t noticed, it stole Pyrrha’s sash too!

Neo: *Jumps off him, gestures emphatically*

Jaune: I know, you angry little troll! *Instead of attacking him again, Neo just stares at him sadly* I-I... *sighs* I know. I know. I really wanna kill that thing too. It’s...it’s all I had left of her too. All you had left of Torchwick. But we’re stuck here. We can’t find my friends and this island is huge.

Neo: *Nods unhappily*

Neo: *Jabs him with her stick spear*

Jaune: Yeah, we can kill any seagulls we see. *Neo blinks, considers trying to get her point across but nods*

-----------------

Day 49

Jaune: How do you set everything on fire! I told you we needed just enough to warm ourselves!

Neo: *Lunges at Jaune, leaves fire to burn*

Jaune: *Is strangled*

-----------------

Day 54

Neo: *Admires Jaune’s ass in jorts*

Jaune: I still don’t understand why you had to ruin my jeans. Tossing the boots into that bottomless pit, I get. My feet thank you. Uh, except when I keep stepping on sharp rocks and twigs. But really?

Neo: *Points at him, hand fans herself and panics, shaking her head rapidly*

Jaune: *Oblivious, insulted* Yeah, yeah, I’m sweaty! Fine, fuck having pant legs! I wanna get scratched and bitten by those weird little blue people again!

Neo: *Blinks, shakes her head in exasperation and relief*

-----------------

Day 59

Jaune: I can’t believe you committed genocide because those blue people stole your top! Neo, they just wanted a tent!

Neo: *Glares murderously at Jaune, covering her frilly pink and white bra with her hand and arm*

Jaune: *Gulps* I-I-I-I know! It’s upsetting, but murder isn’t always the answer!

Neo: *Uses free hand and makes bunny ears*

Jaune: Hey, those rabbits might be really stupid but they’re super mean spirited! One tried to drop a rock on my head and don’t you dare say it’d be an improvement!

Neo: *Startled, laughs*

Jaune: *Sheepish, laughs too*

Neo: *Continues laughing, eventually noticing Jaune has stopped and is red in the face, wide eyed*

Neo: *Notices she moved her arm and Jaune is staring at her chest*

Jaune: *Notices Neo’s glare and red face* W-wait, hold on a minute now, I didn’t mean to--

Neo: *Glomps, bites his nipple*

Jaune: *Girlish screams that can be heard for miles*

-----------------

Day 72

Jaune: No, put the berries down. You can’t just keep eating fruit all the time, you’re already very small and need to keep yourself healthy if you don’t wanna lie rotting as a corpse on this island forever.

Neo: *Grabs a huge handful of berries, shoves them in her mouth smugly*

Jaune: Dammit Neo, stop being so bratty! I’m only trying to help! *Grabs Rabbit jerky* Now do your body good, open your mouth and eat my meat!

Neo: *Gags, chokes, spits mushy berries out and kicks Jaune in the solar plexus for the phrasing*

Jaune: *Wheezing* I swear I didn’t mean to OH X-RAY AND VAV, SAVE ME!

Nearby Seagull: *Hearing the abyssal, shrieking screams of the Tall One, flies off in terror and decides to move the family nest*

Neo: *Biting, kicking, punching and pinching*

-----------------

Day 88

Jaune: I can hardly shave Neo, if you don’t remember my sword’s a jagged piece of sharp metal these days!

Neo: *Shows off shaved armpits, shows off shaved legs having long since created shorts from her capris and shows him a wooden knife*

Jaune: I should be concerned that you’ve created another stabby, but somehow -- GASP! *Actually gasps, clutches his beard* No! You wouldn’t!

Neo: *Grins*

Jaune: Please don’t, beloved friend of mine.

Neo: *Touched*

Jaune: What? We are. I mean sure you bite and attack me way more than most normal people do but you did save me from that rabbit mercenary group that tried to use a swinging log to splatter my brains against a tree. You might’ve been a bad guy once, but it’s nearly been three months and you’ve more than proven yourself. And I can’t really not call you a friend when I feel guilty about how I treated you.

Neo: *Smiles, undoes her bra*

Jaune: Wait, WHAT!? *Neo jumps on him and smiling happily, gives his cheek a kiss and starts shaving* WAIT NEO NO, THAT’S NOT FAIR YOU CAN’T USE BOOBIES AS A WEAPON LIKE THA- *Neo shakes her body side to side* -GGRRRGGG! That is so cruel. You’re the worst friend ever. I’m glad you have to sit on my ribs and not my lap because that would be even worse.

Neo: *Continues shaving*

-----------------

Day 146

Jaune: *Using his semblance* See, what’d I tell you? They get smarter! No way are those little demons gonna fall for the same trap twice.

Neo: *Lets Jaune heal the bloody bite marks from a rabbit, squirms*

Jaune: Stop it, you’re fine. *Kisses healed hand* Booboo be gone!

Neo: *Blushes brightly, stares wide eyed*

-----------------

Day 179

Neo: *Spinkicks boulder about to crush Jaune*

Jaune: Thanks Neo! *To a small, derpy looking anthropomorphic rabbit* Your wretched plan is foiled you vile creature from the deepest pits of hell! Now do me a favor and get stabbed!

Neo: *Spins away, clutching her beating heart as the sound of a vicious goring occurs*

Jaune: Another day, another dead rabbit! Oh look, there’s more! *Offers the Spear of Ultimate Stick to Neo* You wanna eviscerate the next couple?

Neo: *Wonders what this feeling is*

-----------------

Day 187

Jaune: *Gaping stupidly at Neo’s perfectly lit fire* W-wha? How!? Two months ago you lit my hair on fire *brushing hand through short, unstyled blondeness* but n-now...

Neo: *Smugly roasting bird meat*

Jaune: *Scoops Neo into a hug, spins the wide eyed mute* I understand how Dad felt when I finally learned to tie my shoes in the 6th grade now! I’m so proud, Neo! OW!

Neo: *Spits Jaune’s shoulder blood out, turns away blushing*

Jaune: Still proud. *Notices Neo blushing, deliberately not looking at him* Uh-oh. *Quietly, to himself* Oh no. I recognize this feeling. Ohhh shit. Okay, what the hell Jaune!? You see her boobs and you feel awkward about your boner for three days, but she looks all cute and embarrassed and that’s what does me in!? What kind of bullshit is this!?

Neo: *Oblivious, cupping her cheeks and cutely twisting back and forth*

-----------------

Day 219

Jaune: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Neo: *Silently screaming at the top of her lungs*

Jaune: OH MY GOD NEO WHY THE FUCK IS HE SO BIG!? *Looks fearfully back at a 12 foot tall, musclebound, derpy looking anthroporphic rabbit sprinting at them with rage in its unthinking eyes*

Neo: *Frantically mimes stabbing*

Jaune: NEO, WHAT THE FUCK, I THINK HE’S TOO SWOLE FOR HUSHABYE!!!

Neo: *Heart flutters at Jaune’s name for their spear*

Giant Rabbit: ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!

Jaune: *Ears ringing*

Neo: *Points at Jaune’s crotch, mimes stabbing*

Jaune: *Pales* THAT’S PROBABLY THE MOST EVIL THOUGHT YOU’VE EVER HAD IN YOUR LIFE! *Neo pouts, mimes it again* I’M JUST SAYING, NOT JUDGING, LET’S DO IT! *Uses semblance*

Neo: *Commits murder most foul*

Jaune: *Whips out the wooden knife* I’M SO SORRY FOR THIS, YOU OVERGROWN FREAK OF NATURE! *Jumps on the screaming body of the mutated rabbit, starts stabbing*

~~5 Minutes Later~~

Jaune: *Covered in blood, wipes forehead* Phew. Killing something this big really takes it out of you.

Neo: *Covered in blood, staring at Jaune wide eyed*

Jaune: Kind of a shame he looks basically human. Save for his stupid head, I guess, because I kinda don’t wanna eat anything that’ll make me feel too cannibally. *Puts hand on chin, blood drips* But I kinda think this is like the Final Boss of those rabbits. Maybe chop his head off and put on a pike like you did with that poor little blue guy that seemed to be the other blue people’s chief? *Nods resolutely* Yeah, gotta establish dominance and fear in those godless little fucks. *Looks at Neo* What do you think, NeeeMMMMPPPHHH!!!

Neo: *Glomps Jaune, shoves her tongue into his mouth*

-----------------

Day 237

Neo: Gakgh gakgh gakgh!

-----------------

Day 243

Jaune: Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, you like that don’t you? *Grabs Neo’s hair*

Neo: *Likes that very much*

-----------------

Day 249

Jaune: *Waggles knife* So, uh, aim for the kidneys?

Neo: *Nods emphatically*

Jaune: Huh. I guess I’ll test it out on Cinder. Thanks honey. *Kisses cheek*

Neo: *Swoons*

-----------------

Day 251

Jaune: *Naked, washing grumpy Neo’s hair* I really mean it! I am so sorry. Just, well, uh...okay, you give amazing head and I wasn’t expecting you to go for the balls. Or, uh, the other thing, but well, um *sighs* look, the taint thing was just really unexpected and I’m really sorry I came in your hair! *Blushes*

Neo: *Can’t help but be proud, leans into his hands*

-----------------

Day 268

Jaune: Is there no end to your flexibility!? *Chokes on air* Nope. Guess not.

Neo: *Doing the splits smugly*

-----------------

Day 274

Jaune: And that is why, despite what people say, Immortal Konflict is superior to Road Combatant!

Neo: *Nods seriously*

Jaune: Wanna play when we get back to Remnant, maybe after we kill Salem in her sleep or something?

Neo: *Nods excitedly*

Jaune: You’re the best! *Kisses temple* Ow, why are you hitting me, I thought you liked kisses!?

Neo: *Liking forehead and temple kisses but not wanting to admit it*

-----------------

Day 296

Jaune: *Cumming inside*

Neo: *Toes curl, signing ‘I Love You’ over and over again*

Jaune: *Panting* God I love you too, Neo.

Neo: *Gapes, signs*

Jaune: *Panting decreases* Uh, yeah? My Dad has permanent hearing damage from his Huntsman days. Some chick had a mortar-giant cudgel-battering ram weapon and you can guess about how well that went.

Neo: *Signs more*

Jaune: I-- *realizes* ohhhh. I get it. Uh, I didn’t even think about it. You never signed so I figured you never learned. Ow, my ass!

Neo: *Stops pinching his ass, signs again but slower*

Jaune: *Blushes brightly* Um, yeah. I did. Is that-- *Neo flips him onto his back, kissing him and rocking her hips*

-----------------

Day 338

Jaune: *Contently holding Neo* This really was the last thing I expected to happen. *Neo nods as she leans into him* I...I don’t think I can ever really not miss Pyrrha, or despise Cinder from the bottom of my soul.

Neo: *Signs rapidly that she feels the same way, that she misses Roman*

Jaune: Yeah. I know. *Clears throat* But I think it’s okay. I mean I didn’t expect this to happen, but I’m glad it did. *Snuggling occurs* We’re gonna get out of here. We’re putting Cinder in the dirt. Then we’re gonna do the same to Salem. Then buy a house.

Neo: *Signs*

Jaune: I’ve kinda been a country boy my whole life. It’s up to you *is headbutted* OW! *Neo rubs the back of her aching head, signs, Jaune rubs his chin* Then it’s decided.

*Enjoying each others presence*

-----------------

Day 362

Weiss: Actually, the amount of slashes in the trees could just mean some new terrible creature of ridiculous origin could have made this area of the forest its stomping grounds.

Blake: *Flatly* As long it’s not the flying piranhas with steel teeth that drip acid, I’m fine.

Ruby: *Shudders* Please don’t remind me! I’m suppressing, Blake! Do you want to ruin fish sticks and mustard for me!?

Blake: *Grimaces* Yes.

Yang: *Ignores the bickering* Not gonna lie Weiss, after that giant crocodile with the crown and the cape and the penguin with the hammer, something a little more normal and horrific sounds just like home. *Adjusts cheetah print bikini, shifts hips under her grass skirt*

Weiss: *Eyebrow twitches* Right. Home. Which you clearly miss. *Eyes Yang’s flawless tan*

Yang: Huh? Well, yeah! Not to devalue the disaster we have waiting for us when we get back but I’m dying for a cheeseburger and a *in singsong* Strawberry Sunrise!

Ruby: *Cutting off Weiss and ignoring a fuming Blake* It could be Jaune though!

Weiss: Yes, possibly, but you have to consider the fact-- *Steps around tree, goes silent at the sounds*

Neo: *In a mating press clutching her feet, biting her lip and then silently moaning*

Jaune: *Going so hard he’s clapping Neo’s cheeks*

Weiss: --that maybe those living, spiny fruits got us again and we’re all on a very bad trip. *Can’t look away but wants to*

Ruby: *Blushes furiously*

Blake: *Covers nose, turns away*

Yang: I really wanna be there for our boy but *ignores Jaune’s cursing, Neo’s nodding and Jaune pushing in deep and creampieing the silently screaming mute* a really big part of me wants to punch him in his stupid face. Really!? Her!?

Blake: *Muffled* You sure you’re not just salty that it’s Neo?

Jaune: *Awkwardly, wide eyed but happy* Oh. Guys. Hey! Hi! *Weiss screeches as Jaune stands, Neo breathes heavily but grins smugly*

Yang: Nope. Not at all. *Clenching fist*

-----------------

Day 363

Yang: Okay. I’m cool with whole... *gestures at Neo and Jaune holding hands* thing, because honestly I’d have to be a condescending and arrogant bitch to look down on you because of that, but really?

Ruby: Yang has a point, little blue people and psychotic but also really stupid rabbits and their super-duper-strong Daddy Rabbit? And you killed them alllll oh wow. *Staring at something that Jaune pulled from a bag* That’s a weird looking skull. *Whispering* Why does he have a skull!? Oh no, Neo really did corrupt him and not just with that!

Yang: *Gapes, recovers slowly, sarcastically* She is such a good influence on you Jaune.

Jaune: *Grinning* I know, right? I mean imagine if Neo wasn’t here with me! I probably would’ve survived but I would’ve been so depressed that I’d probably be coming back eyeless and with a ton of PTSD! And maybe a quirky catchphrase!

Yang: Because that’s important. *Rolls eyes* Besides, you couldn’t pull off a catchphrase to save your life.

Jaune: *Face goes slack, contorts stupidly in a scream* BWAAAAH!

Team RWBY: *Jerks*

Neo: *Bites Jaune’s pinky*

Jaune: OW-OW-OW! Take a joke, Neo!

Yang: No, yeah, pretty much on the shrimp’s side.

Weiss: I have no idea what that was but never do it again.

Blake: *Forgives Jaune and Neo for their crusade against the rabbits*

Ruby: *Giggling at the derp face Jaune made*

Jaune: Fine, fine, you win. *Pouting* Using their war cry would have been so insulting to their memory though.

Neo: *Smiling, kisses Jaune’s cheek, signs that he’s a big baby*

Weiss: Getting back to the point though, we didn’t think Jaune would be in nearly as good shape as he’s in now. In that regard I feel we owe Neopolitan a good deal of gratitude.

Blake: And like it or not Yang, having her not just be an enemy of Salem but actually on our side?

Yang: Yeah, well--

Ruby: Plus he’s happy! And I think he kind of needs it. *Sadly* We all do. A-and if Neo is what makes him happy, then I think I’m happy too.

Jaune: *Touched* Rubes...

Ruby: It hurts, Jaune. But I can’t imagine...well, I can’t imagine if it were me. So it’ll take time but the best thing I can do here is be happy for you and get us outta here! *Pumps fist*

Neo: *Signs rapidly*

Jaune: *Grins* And make Cinder and Salem unalive! And in the days leading to that, make them wish they were already dead!

Ruby: *Uncomfortable at the bloodlust* Umm...

Yang: Ah fuck it, you speak my language like that and I can’t stay mad at you! Let’s do it! *Slaps Blake’s ass*

Blake: *Yelps, blushes and glares at Yang* Is this really the time for that!?

Weiss: *Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut* Ah, the onset of a pounding headache. Truly the gang is back together again.

-----------------

Day 365

Jaune: Kinda conveniant that exactly one year after falling into the mythical island of who knows where we find ourselves back in the real world, isn’t it?

Neo: *Hand on her hip, staring at him*

Yang: I’m with the midget. *Grass skirt swishes* Are you really about to complain we’re free of that hellhole?

Weiss: They have a point. After everything we fought there you’d think you would be more appreciative.

Jaune: I am. It just seemmmmpph! *Is kissed by Neo*

Neo: *Happily shuts Jaune up*

Ruby: Alright, let’s do this!

*Action pose except Yang’s tan, in a cheetah fur bikini and a grass skirt, Jaune has a handful of Neo’s ass and Neo is grabbing Jaune by the hair, clearly using tongue and Hushabye is aimed in a slightly red faced Blake’s direction*

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I got the chance to see the RWBY finale today and rather than be depressed and think about Penny, I decided I’d go ahead and write a Silent Knight fic instead. It’s all over the place but really, that’s to be expected since I went in with no plan. I know people are already bitching over on Reddit about Jaune possibly getting attention, but like with most people who dislike a character I decided to pay them no mind whatsoever.

Because honestly, with Dragonslayer never happening I’d be perfectly fine with Jaune x Neo.

As for this entire thing, I had way more fun with it than I should have and I hope anyone reading it has just as much fun as I did writing it.

Oh. And yes, there were plenty of Rabbids and Smurfs harmed in the creation of this lengthy drabble.

#rwby #jaune arc #neopolitan #silent knight #jaune x neo #team rwby #rwby volume 8 finale #au #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin'#shitpost

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