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charophyte · 1 year

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Jotaro x OC - Chocolate Box

I wrote this at the beginning of this month and only just now got around to editing it wheeze thank u to everyone who read it and gave me feedback!!

p4 Jotaro x OC, fluff?, manipulation???, idk they are kinda both bitches in this but like not in a bad way i swear

Word count: 2132

Jotaro never considered himself to be a very festive person, no matter the occasion. He often found himself rejecting invitations to parties and events; on the few occasions where he did accept, he would find himself leaving far before it was over. Not exactly one for introspection, he never ended up with the conclusion that maybe he’d just rather celebrate on his own– or with a few select people at best. Otherwise, it was just a distraction from his usual toiling.

Valentine’s Day wasn’t any different; even when he was still with his wife, she tended to be more informal when it came to holidays, and she wasn’t one for making grand gestures either. Without fail, his co-workers and colleagues would go out of their way to gift him chocolates and other confectioneries, and he would would go through the song and dance of wordlessly acknowledging their generosity. He always accepted the gifts, not questioning their significance but rather deciding that accepting them was easier than turning them down. The chocolates in particular would stay on his desk, sometimes eaten and sometimes discarded if they weren’t to his tastes. No matter how many times he tossed gifts, he’d never felt guilty for it, nor did he feel guilty never returning the favor.

After his first Valentine’s gift of that day, Jotaro realized something was off. Typically, he didn’t know it was a holiday that day until right after Ash would come into work to cause trouble. Holidays seemed to give them an excuse to act childish, and they took it at every given opportunity. Of course, they couldn’t be too disruptive without being reprimanded, so their efforts were more creative rather than obnoxious. Being reminded what day it was, as well as it being well past noon, he briefly wondered if something kept them from coming in today; however, he came to the conclusion that, no matter the cause, it might be better for everyone else’s sake that they didn’t.

Already feeling at capacity for the amount of distractions he can tolerate in one working day, Jotaro was ready to escape into his office. After receiving yet another gift from another co-worker, he gave a small nod and muttered a “thank you” under his breath to appease them before making his way to his office.

It didn’t take long for Jotaro to reach his office as it was only a few hallways down from where he had been; however, in the hallway preceding his office door, he heard an audible thud coming from around the corner. From the corner of his eye, Ash skirted around the corner, dropping their cane in their rush. “Hah, I knew I would be able to find you here,” they yelled out to him Jotaro saw some of his colleagues stare at the commotion from down the adjacent hall, and he instinctively averted his eyes as if ignoring the maniac before him would save him the embarrassment.

Ash approached him still panting, stopping about a foot from where he stood to keel over and catch their breath. Jotaro waited, frozen in place with his hand still on the door leading to his office; looking just past the brim of his hat, he could see Ash trying to hide something behind their back. Realizing what was about to happen, he turned the door handle in his hand, but it just rattled uselessly in its place, locked.

Jotaro’s eyes darted from beneath the brim of his hat for a plausible excuse to escape the situation, but it was in vain. He watched as Ash approached and brandished the box in front of Jotaro’s face. “You know what today is Jojo–” they were saying his nickname much louder than they had any right to, “you know I wasn’t going to let all those broads show me up!” When Ash lets go of the box, Jotaro moves to deftly catch it, his eyes darkening under the tilt of his hat.

“I don’t–”

“Oh!” Ash started to back up, propping themself up on their cane, “Hey, would you look at the time!I gotta go proctor an exam, I’ll see you later,” they turned, their smile betraying the apologetic tone they’d put on. They jogged back from where they came from, disappearing as fast as they had appeared. Jotaro’s grip on the box tightened, looking over to the people down the other side of the hall, who averted their gazes the moment they made eye contact. He neatly hooked the two boxes under his arm as he fished for the keys to his office, silently reprimanding himself for locking his office last time he’d left.

Holding a bagged bottle of wine in one hand, Ash knocked on the door in front of them with the other. They hoped that Jotaro wouldn’t take too long to answer, since they decided that coming up with their cane was too much of a hassle. After work, they’d called him, offering a frivolous apology for what they had done earlier in the day, dismissing it as an oversight since they had been so busy that day (which was half-true, so it wasn’t really a lie). To make it up to him, Ash had brought something for them to drink, which was pretty common for them to do even before they started to consider each other as… well, they didn’t ever put a name to it. Jotaro, of course, accepted, once again proving that Ash’s plans were infallible.

It hadn’t taken long for Jotaro to unlock the door and let them into his apartment–though, calling it an apartment felt like a disservice. Ash was actually quite surprised at the sheer luxury of it, especially because Jotaro was such a humble person. Maybe it was just a level of comfort he was used to living in.

Ash set the bottle on the kitchen bar. “Phew, you have quite the bachelor pad here, Jojo.”

Expecting a rise out of him, Ash watched Jotaro turn his back to them and fidget a bit. When he turned around, he had an unfamiliar box in his hand.

“This is for you,” Jotaro said plainly. He set the box in Ash’s hands.

Ash’s face blanked out; they weren’t sure if they should have felt shocked, amused, or some secret third thing they decided not to think about. After a few seconds of not knowing what to do, they stepped up to meet Jotaro at where he stood, and casually embraced him, box still in hand. Jotaro didn’t know what to do either, but he quickly realized he should have expected a response like this, and apprehensively returned the gesture.

After they were sure he wouldn’t pull away, Ash spoke up. “You know I gave you that box to embarrass you, right?” When Jotaro stiffened his posture, they quickly amended, “–but, you’re really sweet for doing this, you know?”

Jotaro tried to cover his huff a little, but from where Ash was pressed it was about ten times more obvious. “I don’t understand why you’re like this.”

Ash’s free hand moved to Jotaro’s side. “You’ll up and leave if I give you everything you want.”

Jotaro grabbed Ash’s arm before it could wander too far down his side. “Don’t be stupid.”

Ash leaned forward even more, letting Jotaro catch them as both of their hands were now occupied. “Why don’t you prove I’m stupid then?” they looked up and fluttered their eyes at him, Jotaro resigned and bent down to press a chaste kiss against their lips.

After a quiet moment, Ash could feel Jotaro begin to get uncomfortable with the contact, and they began to pull away. “Maybe we should at least start drinking before we do something we regret later,” they brandished the bottle, and began scouring the kitchen to find a bottle opener. Jotaro quickly found one and handed it over before Ash could turn his kitchen inside-out. He stood back to watch them struggle with uncorking the bottle, but they shooed him away when he offered to help. “No, you go set up in the living room, I got this.”

Knowing how stubborn Ash was, Jotaro left them to their own devices and left for the living room to set up a tray with a couple of glasses. After hearing 5 minutes of struggling and cursing coming from the kitchen, the struggle concluded with a loud pop and a loud sigh of relief. Ash stepped confidently into the living room, the palm of their hand obviously red from wear, and sat the open bottle down on the living room table.

Ash marveled at the interior of the apartment as they fell back onto the couch. “Sheesh, why were we always drinking at my place? My place is a shithole compared to here.”

Jotaro sat down as well, a comfortable distance away which was not possible on Ash’s small sofa. He fidgeted with his hands, thinking about how much safer he felt spending the night somewhere else. “I never thought to offer.”

“Well,” Ash leaned forward and grabs the wine bottle, “should we start then?”

Jotaro nodded and Ash poured each of them a glass, starting with a modest amount in each. They looked over and notice the many boxes of chocolates on the table, including the box Ash had gifted earlier in the day. They felt a pang of jealousy going through their chest, seeing how much positive attention he’d gotten without even trying to socialize, but they swallowed it down with a swig of wine. “You were pretty popular today, huh?”

“I usually keep them in my office or throw them in the trash, but when you offered to visit I figured you would rather have them.”

Ash realized that this is why Jotaro had pulled them aside just now to give them the box, the box he got for them, and they try to keep it from going to their head. They took another drink of wine and looked smugly toward him. “I’m not picky.” They grabbed a random box and ripped it open, showing Jotaro the contents. His brows furrowed further when he saw that they were randomly filled. “Oh come on now, I’m sure they’re not that bad,” they paused to pull out the paper sheet that covered them, waving it in Jotaro’s face “see, look, there’s a guide that shows you which one’s what.”

Jotaro leaned back and crossed his arms, unconvinced. Ash took the opportunity to grab at a chocolate and wolf it down greedily, washing it down with more wine. It felt weird eating cheap chocolate with half-decent wine but they didn’t care, as if trying to tell Jotaro that chocolates were perfectly fine. They looked over to Jotaro, who took a sip of wine before shaking his head. “Fine, still not convinced?” Ash took one bite of another, exposing a cross-section of the filling, “look, you can have the second bite.” They pushed the half-eaten chocolate into Jotaro’s personal space: Jotaro in turn used his free arm to push the offending limb away. “Come on, we just kissed, this isn’t any different.”

Once it was clear Jotaro wasn’t going to budge, Ash continued to eat the rest of the box. Jotaro asked them to hand him one of the boxes of chocolates he knew he could stomach the contents of and systematically picked the insides apart. It didn’t take long until a few of the boxes were torn through, the two of them trading chocolates from each box (when Jotaro was willing). The wine also didn’t last very long, both of them in the habit of drinking their alcohol too quickly.

When they had both had their fill of the drinks and chocolate, they sat pressed together. Ash’s head rested heavily on Jotaro’s shoulder while watching whatever was on television that night, wholly not paying attention. The warm buzz from the alcohol ��and from being so close to Jotaro– was making them dangerously close to dozing off. Jotaro seemed to be close to falling asleep as well, leaning in closer and sighing.

Ash wrapped an arm around the bicep they were pressed against. “Next year,” they started, “I’m gonna send you roses. Anonymously. All the women who gave you gifts today will argue with each other to figure out who did it…”

Jotaro replied plainly. “I doubt you could do anything anonymously, to be honest.”

“Hey!” Ash called out, distraught. When they couldn’t think of a retort, they sat up to defend themself, and saw Jotaro with a small smile on his face. “Stop smiling,” they demanded, grabbing his cheek.

“Quit your whining.”

Ash sat up on their knees shakily , clutching Jotaro’s shoulders. “I’m not gonna be the one whining in a bit if you don’t stop.”

Neither of them had regrets from that night.

#jotaro kujo #oc x canon #selfship #jjba #ashton #aeg writes #ash x jotaro #i really wanted to finish this sooner but this month hit me like a truck lmao #ITS OKAY ITS STILL FEBRUARY THAT MEANS ITS OKAY ITS FINE

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morgana-ren · 3 years

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SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom?

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that.

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then?

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track.

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him.

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves.

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up.

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right.

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins.

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move?

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t.

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

‘Maybe I will.’

That’s how it starts.

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties.

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper.

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils.

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now.

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties.

“Shit-”

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-” He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you. “Yeah- yeah, sure.”

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.”

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

#nsft #shigaraki smut #see warnings #no mommy kink i am sorry #lots of gross shit for you tho #which I assume you want cause you came to me of all people #see the warning list up top for full disclosure

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catboyshinsou · 4 years

Text

sick headcanons!

anon request: i love your writing smmm !! 🥺 can i request mha sick hcs where they take care of the reader when they don’t feel well 🥺 you choose who !! <3333

a/n: sorry it took so long <//3

pairings: Kaminari, Kirishima, Tokoyami and Monoma x sick,g/n!reader

warnings: none rlly, mention of throwing up in monoma, slight manga spoilers

can be seen platonically and romantically <3

kaminari:

Tbh i think he’d be quite Useless

Just rlly panicky n stuff bc what the fuck does one do with a sick person???

*walks into your dorm* “hey y-n wanna- WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOK TERRIBLE”

*you in a blanket and not having enough energy to be offended* “i think i’m dying” “y/n WHAT”

He’d try his best regardless tho

He goes to sato and helps with doing something soothing and welcoming

On his way back to your dorm he passes aizawa and tells him you’re sick in THE worst way

“Oh yeah Aizawa-sensei, y/n is dying-” “THEY’RE WHAT”

Kami would definitely storm into the room with him and be just as worried

What if it was something really serious??? Like the plague?????

They find you just laying in bed, sniffling and groaning

Turns out it wasn’t the plague and just a bad flu

Flu with its whole jazz, you had a fever of 38C and you could barely move

Aizawa got you excused from classes for about a week and left again

Kami just stood there with his soup and went “oh thank god you're not dying”

like i said i think he'd be useless but try his best

he checks up on you every half hour either in person or via text during classes

he brings you stuff like blankets and foods even though you can't taste any of them or have any type of appetite

but! thanks to the fridge in your room you just had snacks for about… forever

he gave you extra attention too

sometimes he'd just sit on the ground and talk about his day and theories while you just laid under your blanket

you appreciated it though

except for aizawa, sato and tsuyu nobody came over and even they just came in every few hours

kami stayed for hours on end and even tried to convince aizawa to let him sleep over so he could “watch over you” incase you “stopped breathing”

it's not like you slept much when he was around anyway, nights were not ideal for a good rest on a sick day

it was endearing seeing him lay on a futon on the floor and poking you when he had to get up for class

he leaves notes and stuff to make sure you didn't get worried

did he do anything to make you feel better physically? not rlly

did he lift your spirits and make you feel less lonely? most definitely

kirishima:

hear me out

this boy is an angel when it comes to caring for people

when he got into the whole essentially self care stuff he also knows what's best for others

he was probably one of the first to notice you being ~off your game~

whether in class or just yknow vibing, he'd tap your shoulder and softly “you okay man?”

he calls everyone dude and man and bro no matter gender or anything he's just that into the manliness stuff

and yes he puts you in essentially self isolation more for yourself than for others

“your body needs to rest y/n! can't properly get better if everyone keeps bothering you!”

he calls you every night tho and he has aizawa bring you stuff when he checks up on you (he's allowed because he's the teacher ofc also as long you're a UA student like one of your legal guardians which is like a dad and dads can see their kids sick right?)

stuff ranges from just bowls of soup to compresses to the handmade ointment against a sore throat to like socks he knitted or something his parents sent in bc he told them you were sick

yes this boy tells his parents you're sick

i mean someone probably told yours but like twice the parents means twice the comfort!

alternatively if your parents are *cough* he'd tell his parents and put you on the phone with them because everyone needs some parental love from time to time (don't act tough about it, he's gonna make you cry and tell you how manly you are for doing so)

when you're back on your feet he probably still treats you like you're about to fall over for like two or three days more

he praises you for how well you did during your essential quarantine and when you say you didn't do anything he says some cheesy stuff about manliness

“bro i'm so proud of you for getting through it!” “i didn't do anything kiri-” “don't say that! it takes so much energy and manliness to keep in self isolation and get better, you did amazing”

tokoyami:

i love birds

also look at baby toko he's so cute

do birds get sick?

anyways

tokoyami is like.. helpful but tries to be undercover about it

he's not gonna ignore you or anything

he's the type to like silently nudge teachers into your area so they could see you were clearly sick and send you back to the dorms to rest

but he'd never actually ask you or tell anyone

it would ruin his whole ~vibe~

dark shadow tells him to tell someone and he rlly does especially if he sees you struggling through it in class but he's also just not great at talking with people so a nudge or “secret note” will have to do

it does work, you're in your dorm right before combat training because mic had sent you up and excused you

mic is sweet he said he'd send aizawa up when he finds him but that you should rest

he also tells you that you have some really attentive friends

you're at this point just letting the sickness take over you so you have no idea what he just said (you heard him but the words just didn't register in your brain)

you get into bed and the first thing you do is sleep through afternoon classes

tokoyami is only at 50% today and so is dark shadow

tokoyami swears he isn't worried, the teachers are capable of taking care of you in an appropriate manner so that you will recover in no time

dark shadow on the other hand is all gittery and doesn't wanna focus on anything but you

off topic but i just think dark shadow is tokoyamis way of showing emotions or well like… like his internal thoughts? not like his internal dialogue but ya know his feelings

so he can act all goth and dramatic but dark shadow is a good way of still giving some of his feelings an output

back to you

so training is over and so is your nap

but you wake up to pillows, stuffed animals, blankets and more pillows surrounding you

half of them weren't yours either

they laid around you like some kind of pillow fortress jusy surrounding you and making sure you didn't hit your head on the wall or fall from the bed

it kinda felt like a nest- oh

you tried getting up, your head almost immediately flinging uoh back into bed but you needed to see if a certain someone would come back in to build the nest

“dark shadow, be quiet we don't want them to w- oh you're up”

tokoyami came in with more stuffies and an extra blanket like it was a siberian winter and your rooms only source of warmth was an almost dying candle

“are those yours?” you asked half asleep, your head absolutely booming

you could barely keep your eyes open, that's how exhausted you were but you made an effort to smile at the bird and his shadow

“uh no, yaomomo-san insisted on making some blankets for you and hagakure-san, ashido-san and uraraka-san gave me all their stuffed animals when they heard i was paying you a visit-” “but the blue star blanket and teardrop pillow are from fumi!! he brought them from home because he can't sleep without them!!” “DARK SHADOW!”

you only chuckled before breaking out in a cough again

aizawa came in some time after and had a hard time finding you under all the blankets and stuffies and even offered to tell the class to stop bothering you

but you just laid there all cozy and told him to let them be

“it's how he shows affection, it's nice”

monoma:

oh so the 1A student got sick??? huh??? I thought 1A was invincible hUUUUUUH??? *manic laughter*

coughs

anyways

so basically the two hero courses are more “in tune” after the joint training

they often have dinners together and it isn't rare to see kendo come over with monoma and tetsu^4

she came over to hang with the girls and tetsu had training sessions with kiri

nobody rlly knew why monoma tagged along though

all he did was spout about how average everything is for the “superior hero course”

he did secretly like the classes growing together more though

he'd sit on the couch with you and occasionally laugh about something else other than his team beating yours during joint training

one day he came in and didn't see you at your usual spot

“ehhhh??? where's the only tolerable person in this course??”

used to his lowkey insults deku pointed you out at the dinner table, head resting on your hand and looking over some homework

“y/n what are you- oh my god you look horrible”

“thanks monoma, you're as nice as ever”

your face was drained of any colour, eyes heavy lidded and you could barely control the pen that scribbled over the paper

he tried grabbing your wrist but pulled back immediately

you were way too hot and the fact that he noticed by grabbing your wrist meant that it was more than just a high fever

“is 1A that incompetent that they couldnt even notice their classmate falling sick??? can you guys do anything but trouble???”

“shut up monoma, we tried getting them to bed but they insisted on finishing up first and there's nothing in the world that can get y/n away from what they've put their head to”, kaminari yelled from the living room space

how were you gonna get anything finished if your head was falling off your shoulders if you didn't hold it up

class 1A really was incompetent

“sato-san, give me a hand”

sato, who was currently cooking up dinner, just held out his hand and some type of chocolate bar which monoma grabbed and ate up

“this is incredibly sweet, i don't know how you do it”

it's become like half a routine for monoma to copy quirks for whatever reason

kiri and tetsu used it to determine which quirk was handier

uraraka’s quirk made cleaning up after a game night easier

it was training for all of them

monoma could train his copy and the others could measure how much they've grown from his reaction to it

anyways

sato’s quirk kicked in and he lifted you up over his shoulder

“monoma!” you could barely lift your voice, faintly kicking

before you knew it he placed you on your bed in your dorm and sighed

“you're lighter than i thought”

“i think i'm gonna throw up”

so you hurled into your garbage can

monoma held back whatever there was to hold back

(he was very much disgusted but even he knew that this wasn't the time to let any type of negative emotion show)

“jolly gees y/n, what did you have for breakfast?!”

you laid in bed as he passed you a water bottle

“you need to drink something, you lost a lot of water”

“awe caring for me, monoma?”

“this is for general health, y/n. i would never as much as care for anyone, especially not a brat from 1A. who even knew that any of you could fall sick huh?! weren't you supposed to be superior to the rest of us??!”

he said all of that while putting a blanket on you and opening the window for fresh air

“god you 1A fools really are incompetent!”

he went into your bathroom and soaked a small towel in water

“i'm only doing this so you don't infect anyone. god you could cause an epidemic at UA and in the end 1b would fall victim to you as well! this is all just for the general well-being!”

you didn't even hear what he was saying anymore

with a half empty bottle next to your head, you slept peacefully

monoma let out a deep breath when he saw you

“i'd never care for anyone in 1A, i'm better than that…”

he whispered those words to himself

(he did care)

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real-fanta-sea · 3 years

Text

Prompt for the kiss no. 71

Prompt: "Not to be cringe or anything, but I really like the idea of the kiss 71 (height difference kisses where one person has to bend down, and the other is on their tippy-toes)...where Trevor is his true height. i.e. Ogg's height and Michael has to stand on his tiptoes to snog him."

I'm sorry, anon, but I saved the post as a draft and it just vanished into thin connection. So, I have to answer this way.

This work is more of a spur of the moment thing, but I kinda like the way it turned out, being it just my emotions spilt onto paper. If you'd like, you can read it on AO3 here, or under read more. I hope you'll like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

tw: kissing, child abuse memories

It's been three weeks already.

An unhealthy greenish glow of flickering light tubes and the icy breath of an industrial refrigerator made him shiver as Michael, gliding on the orbit touching stars in his mind, put yet another box of ready-made microwave hamburgers into his shopping cart. If he were not a regular in this particular shop, he would have got lost. It resembled an anthill with seemingly infinite shelves and aisles, bursting with the merchandise, even though the depressed lights covered everything in the same shade of decay green. The same life outlook was shared with most of the shadows roaming around whose name tags qualified them as proud employees of Flormart.

It's been three weeks, and he still stuck around, hanging on his every word.

Michael pushed his cart further from frozen goods, and the pictures swirling and smearing all around transitioned from photoshopped vegetables to flashy fireworks of chips and other guilty pleasures he planned on indulging in later on. Some people would find the height of the shelves menacing, but to Michael, it was just a memory that pulled him from the orbit back to earth and placed him in the middle of a football pitch. The smell of sweat building up underneath his helmet. The crunch of the crisp lawn under his feet. The spotlight following him whenever he scored. Cheering faceless crowds in time with busty faceless girls' pompoms. But most of all, he felt happy again - needed, cherished, innocent, and with a bright future awaiting his embrace. But then, just as he crossed from the snacks aisle to the alcohol quarter, the football stadium lights flickered and turned bright red. All the faceless girls turned around, their mouths gaping as if someone dislocated their jaws, and the cheering turned into a hellish cry of pain. Where their eyes were supposed to be, he saw a flair, screwing itself deeper into their skull, and a stream of scarlet goo drip down on their immaculate white dresses.

It's been three weeks, and somehow, his puppy-like behaviour didn't irk him yet. Quite the opposite if he were honest with himself - he felt strangely peaceful in his company.

Michael gulped in a desperate attempt to wash down the horror that invited itself under cover of a happy memory. Shaking his head only did so much and dispersed the spectators and cheerleaders alike, in the same way shaking a snowy paperweight would. Michael's chest constricted as he felt unable to breathe in properly, people splatting and exploding upon impact all around him in his mind. Suddenly, he felt a pull under both of his shoulders and found himself flying towards the pitch-black sky, where instead of one moon, two shone down on him. As he flew closer, they shrunk into two amber irises - and Michael immediately knew who pulled him out of the memory. As he crashed into a mass of pink candy cotton clouds, his vision blurred just to clear up when he felt a solid surface under his feet and someones hot hands in his. Somehow, he found himself looking at the tips of abused old pair of sneakers he was wearing, the same pair Michael knew he wore that faithful day at the airstrip. A moment later, a couple of dark blue, equally run-down ones stepped into his field of vision. He slowly let his sight slide up on crumpled jeans, the hem of a military jacket, a pair of dog tags hanging around a slender neck, a sharp jaw, a pair of full dark lips and finally, to the pair of amber eyes, eyes that radiated worry, care and, at the same time, something he could only read as love and utmost devotion.

It's been three weeks since the incident, and anytime he woke up from a nightmare that played in his mind over and over again, he was there to soothe him; he was there waiting for Michael's tears to dampen his naked shoulder. He didn't bitch about it and didn't tell a soul in the morning.

Michael let out a shaky breath. Stopping his feet from casually continuing in their stroll proved harder than he thought, and he leaned on the shopping cart handle, running fingers through his hair. He couldn't decide what mortified him more - the creativity his brain proved to possess when playing out the horrible things he has witnessed in just a few years of his fresh adulthood, or the way it put his acquaintance on some fucking pedestal and presented him as the alpha and omega of his thoughts and desires.

"Hey Michael, are you ok?"

Speaking of the devil... "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just.." Michael breathed in again and turned towards the source of the voice, trying to display a small smile by twitching his tired lips "I need a smoke, that's all."

It's been three weeks, and he got that tingling feeling in his guts already. He could barely tolerate touch or prolonged eye contact without getting goosebumps and that ticklish feeling solidifying and slicing right into his groin. Michael wanted to believe it was just his weird head showing gratitude for saving his ass, but anytime he found himself in the company of that amber-eyed twink, the longing grew worse.

"Hey, how about a bottle of something to wash the cig down?" said the guy and his oversized jeans jacket hanging from his shoulders cringed into weird shapes as he took one of his hands out of his pocket and pointed his thumb towards the shelves. He looked so adorably dishevelled in all jeans, and with his silky hair framing his hopeful face, Michael couldn't have said no to anything he would suggest. Instead of mustering the strength to say no, Michael threw another smile towards his companion and turned his back to him to choose the dream crusher he wanted to numb them with before they went to bed.

To someone who grew up in a functional family, all the labels and bottle shapes would seem the same. To Michael, however, to choose the right brand and size meant the same as selecting the bananas or avocados of the proper ripeness would for them. It was a work of art; he learned so much in the ten years of living with his stepfather. While scrutinizing the shelves, index finger and thumb scrubbing on the sides of his chin absent-mindedly, he remembered how they would come to the similar shop together, he and his mother's second husband, and how he slipped behind the shelves. At the same time, Frank chatted with the clerk, and he stuffed his lunch box with a large flat bottle of Chief's Heritage Fire Water whiskey. He had to carefully close it to avoid disturbing the aluminium foil that served as a guard from the primitive electronic protection device they had to pass through on their way out. Michael would then tuck his stepfather's sleeve, babble some cute nonsense to get candy from the unsuspicious clerk, and after they paid for the two packs of cigarettes and a beer, they would leave. Frank would let him chug on whiskey then, and if he were in an exceptionally good mood, he would let him sleep through the night without beating the shit out of him.

Finally, spotting the whiskey he knew so well on one of the top shelves, Michael attempted to grasp it but only managed to graze his fingertips against the bottom of one of the bottles that rocked gently upon touch but otherwise didn't move an inch. "Fuck", he uttered under his breath, cracked his neck and stretched onto the tips of his toes, steadying himself by holding onto one of the lower shelves. But, again, he could only touch the bottle but not get a good hold of it. He even contemplated climbing the shelves to get it, as if the shame of his disappointing height haven't already painted his cheeks bright red and didn't make him want to leave the shop right away. Just as he braced himself for the climb, eyes fixed on that damn bottle, a gentle touch of someone's hand squeezing his shoulder made him turn around. It was Trevor's hand, and even though Michael still had to look up to meet his eyes, the small sympathetic smile put him in ease in a blink of an eye.

"Chief's, huh? Good choice, Mike!" the praise in his voice made Michael shiver, and he desperately tried to ignore the warmth he was receiving through the palm still steady on his shoulder and which upset his heart into beating twice as fast as ever before. "My old man used to drink this. It tastes like cat piss but knocks you out good for the buck." Trevor's grin felt like a warm touch sunrise after countless years of freezing darkness. Michael couldn't help but soak in the warmth, allowing himself to lose himself in the feeling completely. "Let me get it for you, eh?" he heard Trevor say from somewhere near, and before he could object, most of the light was obstructed by a jeans-clad chest.

It was then when Michael closed his eyes and tried to get hold of the situation. Trevor, the guy he only knew for three weeks, pushing Michael's back onto the shelves as he leaned for the bottle but also pushing his chest almost to Michael's. If it weren't for a couple of inches of hot air and fabric between them, their bodies would brush against each other. Michael could only gulp when he opened his eyes again, and his mind provided him with the maddening picture of Trevor's naked lean chest, peppered with dark brown hair as if puberty marked its way down towards his groin with it. Michael's head was spinning when he looked up to see Trevor still busy fetching the bottle. Michael's racing imagination saw him grabbing the guy's head, crashing lips with his and dissolving into what he thought would be the best kiss he would ever receive. Michael gulped again. He had to have him.

He was anxious about the way it was too easy to raise both his hands and grab fists full of other man's jacket as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Michael didn't fight it when he felt his muscles pull on the fabric and only turned his gaze up to where he expected Trevor's eyes to look once he would feel the movement of his clothes. Michael didn't have to wait for it at all, actually; the puzzled expression was already waiting for him to drink it up. However, he couldn't maintain the contact for too long as his eyes focused on something completely different; the dark lips, deliciously parted in the unspoken question. The distance between his own and them unnerved him, and in the sparking silence, Michael again propped himself onto the tips of his toes, pressed harder on the fabric to steady himself and, closing eyes, pressed his lips to Trevor's.

For a delicious moment, the world fell apart as if some invisible force made the dimensions crash down. The trembling soft firmness against his lips sent shivers down his spine with each cautious move. Whenever Michael recalled the moment years later, he could always sense the faint smell of cigarettes, petrol and sun mixing between their bodies and the way the ground shook and cried under his feet when he felt Trevor's palms slide down his sides and pull him closer, effectively sweeping him off his feet.

Trevor seemed to be relishing at the moment as much as Michael was, but when he felt solid ground under his feet again, and the pair of arms letting go of him, Michael reluctantly broke the kiss with a coquettish wet pop and tried to catch his lost breath. Then, leaning against the shelves again, he only dared to peek up when his cheeks stopped burning from what felt like a mixture of acid and a marathon run. Trevor's face might as well have been a mirror, for he looked down on Michael with eyes wide, face red and lips wet and trembling as if he didn't get a grasp of reality yet. Michael couldn't help but let the anxiety scream right to his face in the voice of his stepfather - and there were thousands of things he might have ruined then and there, just because he didn't fight his stupid queer side, because he let himself kiss another man, because by the twisted chain of mistakes he fell from what could have been a good life to longing after a rabid smuggler in the middle of a liquor aisle.

Just as he was about to duck under Trevor's arm and run away from the voice and feelings of shame it brought about, he was stopped by a gentle, almost shy touch of a hot palm on his cheek. The slender fingers brushed against his face in such a delicate way Michael's heart skipped a beat, and closing his eyes, he leaned into the touch, seeking the soothing silence it brought with the warmth. The hand fit his cheek like a glove, Michael mused as he relaxed into slow movements of fingertips on his temples. Right there, at that moment, everything felt so right, so natural. Why has he deprived himself of the delicious heat for three weeks when somewhere deep inside, where the beating of his heart always gave away the truth, he knew he needed it from the start - well, Michael didn't know. Instead, he slid his arms around Trevor's waist and buried his face into his chest.

"Michael?"

The vibrating echo of his name, spoken in such a husky yet caring way, made Michael squeeze his arms around Trevor even tighter. He sought the last bits and pieces of it before he dared to speak up himself, afraid of spoiling the delicious contentment of the moment.

"Let's get out of here."

A gentle kiss on top of his head and long arms lacing his shoulders later, Michael found himself too far from Trevor for comfort. But even with the newly gained distance between them, a quick glance sideways has provided him with a sight of a beaming smile and a fire deep inside Trevor's eyes that made his own lips twitch into a happy upwards bow. As they rolled into the checkout, Michael has noticed the world has changed as well. The depressing shade of green has somehow transitioned into a welcoming warm white; the shadows that they passed by on their way in suddenly bloomed into happy faces. The various packings of goods exploded in all the colours of the rainbow. As Michael and Trevor emerged into the darkness of the parking lot, ready to relive their revelation in thousands of ways, Michael has felt at peace with himself for the first time in forever. The days of the inner night were over.

#michael de santa #trevor philips #trikey #kissing prompts #gta v fic #real_fanta_sea.txt

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

Willow

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Reader, who is a witch (not tied to the og coven) is best friends with Michael. They decide to spend Valentines day together in outpost three. Based on this post, and the 'willow' music video by Taylor Swift.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: mentions of rituals/covens (its vague tho), slow burn, light angst, mutual pining, gross fluff, plot heavy and VERY descriptive I'm sorry dhdhd, valentines day fic, mentions of food, friends to lovers

A/N: yall rlly liked my last Michael blurb so I made this kinda similar!! Also the idea of witch! Reader not being tied to the og coven is NOT my idea, others have done it before - I just did it cause it made sense w the music video this fic is based off of ✌🏻. This is mostly me self indulging ngl so if the fic doesnt make sense that's why haha. The v beginning is like Sojourn! Era and then the rest of the fic is somewhere between fire & reign and outpost era. this fic is rlly just me trying to say happy early mf valentines day !! 💖💖 okay bye

February 14th was always a day you dreaded; The idea and concept of a whole fucking holiday being dedicated to just love.. really put a bitter taste in your mouth. In your opinion, it was just a reason for couples to show a disgusting amount of PDA and get away with it.

However; due to a incredibly corny and cliché situation you found yourself in; you now were seeing the incoming holiday in a different light. When you thought of the holiday.. You first thought of Michael. Michael Langdon.

Meeting Michael at all was a complete accident - You met months ago in fall; on a dark cloudy night. Every detail from that evening was etched and woven into your mind as if it had just happened yesterday; and you could only hope that it would remain that way forever. After all; that was the night when you had met your favorite person. You even remembered the weather.. The bitterness of the cold wind making it seem as if it was seconds from storming.

You were part of a small coven which was meeting due to a full moon, it was a rather mundane and basic ritual you were preforming. One of which you had preformed more times you could even count on your fingers.. However; what made that ritual special is that your coven happened to be recruiting.

Full black outfits, including thin, long cloaks is what everyone wore to the occasion.. After everything was over and done with; you went to leave - the bitter coldness of the night urging you to leave rather quickly.

However; something.. almost a invisible force made you stop walking away from the crowd and made you physically stop. You slowly stopped walking; and turned around. You sharply gasped when you saw a figure directly in front of you - wearing a dark ensemble that matched yours nearly identically.

Immediately you grew weary. A sharp, nauseated feeling started to manifest inside of you.

"Were you following me"? You spoke with your voice raised, your hands which previously fell loosely at your side were starting to curl into fists.

You could feel yourself getting defensive. You quickly flicked your eyes over at the other coven members - making sure you weren't causing a scene; not wanting to draw attention to the situation until it grew necessary.

"Yes, but.. look. I just wanted to talk to you.. away from the others". The boy stated.

You bit your lip to suppress a groan. You rolled your eyes, not really caring that he could see how bothered you were.

"Fine. But c'mon, make it quick". You said, not trying to hide the irritation in your voice.

You turned around and walked a few feet away from the crowd, not looking back but merely expecting him to follow you. You were expecting he was just another newbie with dumb questions, or needed clarification on something.

You turned to talk to him, and that's when you noticed something you about him you seemed to overlook earlier - his beauty. You were completely taken aback and breath taken. Light blue eyes met your gaze as you stared blankly at him; momentarily stunned. He looked beyond ethereal; his pale cheeks flushed a light pink from the cold and his blonde hair looked as if it could be spun from gold. It was almost like he could sense how you were suddenly taken aback.. A smug smirk played on his lips; if you didn't know any better you would say he almost seemed cocky.

"There's something about you that's different from the others. I could sense it". He stated.

"How"? You stuttered.

You watched as he took a couple steps toward you and in one quick swoop, pushed the hood of his cloak fully back. He got even closer but you didn't dare move. You watched him curiously as he turned to the side, pushing his blonde locks of hair out of the way to show you something behind his ear.. Your blood instantly went cold once you saw three sixes; however you weren't scared. In fact you were really the first person that Michael met that didn't practically faint when they saw his mark. Looking back; you supposed that's why you and Michael bonded so quickly and became so close.

It didn't take long for him after that to confine in you that people either avoided him or became obsessed once they knew; both reactions ultimately stemming from fear. You were the first person to look past that and to just see him as a actual human being - not just a vessel for some fucked up prophecy to play out.

Even though Michael's beauty was undeniable to you; the relationship you two had was strictly platonic.. and in the past that was never something that bothered you. You supposed that he was tired of people throwing themselves at his feet and what he really needed more than anything was a friend - so you chose to be that for him, not daring to try and test the boundaries your relationship had.

However; the boundaries were seemingly starting to come down naturally - because your relationship wasnt entirely platonic anymore. Things between you two weren't exactly black and white as they used to be; a great example of this, was how you two were planning on spending Valentines Day together.

You and Michael agreed to spend it as friends. Neither of you had a date and spending Valentines alone when you had Michael seemed redundant.. and honestly just boring. Instead of making Valentines day an all day event; it started for you two as a 'date' at 6 pm.

In order to avoid having to confront putting a label on your.. situationship, the venue for your lavish Valentines date was at a more.. private venue. He only gave you a address and instructions, you didn't really know what exactly to expect but you knew you weren't going to his house. It was somewhere new.

It was nearly six pm, the sun had just set - leaving the sky a shade somewhere between navy blue and pure black. The air was cold on your skin as you stepped out of the car, wondering where the hell you even were.

The area you found yourself in was completely bare and void of any trees, the only object or building you saw was a giant, black, metal structure. The instructions Michael gave you had told you about this but.. seeing it in person was merely jarring, oddly unsettling. You approached it, trying to ignore the nerves and anxiety you could feel creeping in.

You couldn't help but wonder what the hell this place was and why out of all the places you two could have a 'date', it would have to be here?

As you stood in front of an elevator - stepping in, you felt very reluctant to do so. It definitely felt a bit weird that Michael wanted to meet you in such a secluded place but.. he was your best friend. He would never hurt you.. especially on valentines day.. Right?

The doors opened and you slowly stepped out, immediately taken back. You were now in a oval room, with a long hallway stretching out. You first quickly scanned your surroundings for Michael but, he wasnt here. Not in your line of vision anyway. You nearly forgot you were here for Michael at all for a second. The interior was breathtaking; resembling a old, Victorian style mansion. Even though you were still utterly confused; Michaels reasoning for choosing this venue was starting to become more clear to you.

It was the cozy, romantic vibe the 'house' seemed to radiate. The dim lighting also amplified this affect; seemingly giving everything in sight a subtle golden glow, otherwise everything remained relatively dark. You walked through the building; down hallways, looking for any sounds of life at all. Your witchy senses didn't always work on Michael, so you didn't even bother to try to use those. He was right about how you were powerful but, his powers still outshone yours unfortunately.

You finally heard something, something faint; soft music playing distantly in the background. You followed it swiftly, the music getting louder and louder until you found him - in what appeared to be the library.

The room was immense; books were lined on shelves that bordered the room. Couches, along with a decent sized fireplace and chandelier - and of course a record player, also resided in the library. Playing a tune that sounded similar but you couldn't quite remember what it was.. whatever it was, it sounded old and romantic - maybe from the 50s.

"Your not very good at hiding, you know. The music was a dead giveaway". You commented playfully.

Michael greeted you with a smirk, obviously holding back laughter. He stood up from one of the couches; approaching you. He looked incredibly handsome in the normal black ensemble he was wore but tonight he sported a long black coat. Making you fondly nostalgic of the night you two met.

He got dangerously close to you, almost in your face but you weren't intimidated. Plus, you knew he wasnt trying to actually intimidate you. Michael being the way he was; you knew he wouldn't have asked you to spend Valentines with him if he didn't tolerate you in some way.

"Its a good thing I wasnt trying to hide then, is it"? He spoke; his eyes pierced into yours.

The direct eye contact was starting to get unnerving and so was the.. apparent tension. You took a step back, looking away and laughing awkwardly - trying to remind yourself you two were strictly friends. Best friends, in fact. Nothing more.. and nothing less.

"So.. what even is this place? You don't own this or something.. do you"? You asked, slyly changing the topic.

"Actually I do. It's being saved for something I have in the works; but nothing's official yet. I wanted to get your opinion though.. what do you think"? Michael asked.

Even though you absolutely loved, whatever the hell this place even was, something.. felt off. Perhaps it was the fact it was completely secluded and private. Too private. You knew Michael was into some weird shit with the Satanists but; you figured he would atleast tell you by now if he was planning on something big with them.. Something that would require a huge fucking mansion underground.

"This place is beautiful, Michael. But what is it for"?

"Your too eager for your own good, (y/n). You will know in due time, I promise; but for now.. come sit with me".

He gently grabbed your wrist and guided you over to one of the bare, black couches; you followed - sitting next to him.

The hours continuing were filled with incredibly cheesy gestures that you only rolled your eyes at, and teased him for. The first being a few small, pink flowers he had conjured up and then tucked into your hair. At first you really thought nothing of it, they were just pretty flowers. However; you knew due to Michael's nature that he didn't just so happen to come across those flowers, he summoned them purposefully - specifically for you.. You didn't bother to try and hide how flustered this made you.

"Those are beautiful; what are they"? You asked, gesturing to the flowers.

"Thought you'd never ask. Wild roses. They hold many meanings; most agree they represent both love, suffering, beauty.. life. They're even said to protect the living from the dead".

You couldn't help but to laugh at his explanation.

"Will they protect me from you? You know your not exactly human yourself". You teased.

The corner of Michael's lips slid into a slow smile, one that you couldn't quite decipher whether it was an ironic or genuine gesture.

You nearly jumped at how quickly one of Michael's hands suddenly slid up into your hair; seemingly picking out one of the petals that had fallen from one of the flowers - he retracted his hand, holding onto the petal.

"No. Your going to need something stronger than that to keep me away". He said playfully, before crushing the already wilted petal in his hand - letting it fall carelessly to ground.

You could only roll your eyes.

Next came the food and well.. you were beyond impressed. Your not certain exactly how he managed to get your favorite food down who knows how many feet underground, but.. he did. And it was perfect.

You were both pretty quiet during that time; Michael didn't really have a reason to be but you couldn't help but to get lost within your thoughts. Sure; you two were best friends but.. that didn't necessarily warrant him to do all of this for you. Was it possible that he felt.. something else, like you did?

You couldn't help but to shut that thought down as quick as it came; that had to just be you projecting. There was no way in hell he could love you back..

Wait.. love?

It was like a involuntary reflex the way you suddenly jolted up and backed away from the table. Even though it was just a thought, the fact you just admitted to yourself that you loved him.. What the fuck did that even mean?

Michael looked startled at well, you could tell by the color of his knuckles that he now had a death grip on his silverware. His icy, blue eyes matched yours with a startled gaze.. As if he was trying to contemplate your next move or to get a good read on you. You were more than well acquainted with Michael's powers by now; you knew how he had the ability to read minds and that's partially why you found yourself, slowly at first, starting to take steps away from him. Wanting desperately to get the fuck away from him. You knew that if Michael even suspected what you were thinking or how you felt, that your friendship could possibly be over. That would be it, he would want absolutely nothing to do with you. You would be no better than the dozens of women and even men that threw themselves at Michael; Maybe even worse.

You made it down a random hallway until you found yourself physically colliding into him - fucking transmutation.

You felt a sudden urge to just turn around to try and escape again but you knew he wouldn't let you. Instead you let yourself be captive, you let him hold you. Gently encasing you into a hug. It was painful how hard you were trying to hold back your tears - blindly running away was already embarrassing enough, letting him see you cry would be too much.. Too much for one night, anyways. You felt him let go of you - stepping back a little bit in order to make eye contact with you.

"What has gotten into you-" He started.

"Michael- I'm so sorry but I just need to go. We can talk about this tomorrow but for now I just really need to be alone-"

You tried to turn around in order to make another (more calm) attempt at leaving but you felt something grab at your wrist, yet again. His grasp, along with his hand were achingly soft. You hated how much you enjoyed him making physical contact with you - even if it was something just as docile as this. You also couldn't help but to hate the spark of electricity you felt when his skin touched yours - and you couldn't help but to wonder whether he felt it too.

"No. I need to know what I did wrong. I'm not letting us end today like this". Michael said, his voice was strained with emotion.

His words were spoken urgently, his voice unsteady and even threatening to break.. That's when you knew you completely fucked up. He totally misinterpreted your actions.. the sudden realization hit you, piercing your heart like a knife.

"No, your right. Can we sit"? You asked.

He let go of your wrist coldly, sauntering out of the hallway you two were in. You would be lying if you were to admit that his sudden cold actions didn't hurt you; it definitely stung but you couldn't help to feel in this moment that you kind of deserved it.

The walk over was quiet and even a bit awkward. When you two sat; he looked at you expectedly.. waiting for you to talk first and explain your sudden, impulsive actions.

"It wasnt you.. that's not why I tried to leave at all, Michael. You did everything right. I mean that's really the 'problem', even though calling it a problem still isn't the right word but.." You paused before carrying on.

"What you did tonight for me was perfect, and I'm so thankful for that, truly. But I just feel like I'm starting to interpret your actions in a different way than in which you mean them and that's not fair to you. I know you just want a friend-" Your words continuously came out faster the longer you spoke, you were completely rambling at this point but Michael stopped you.

"Hey, stop". He said softly.

You felt as if you were dreaming when you saw him start to move closer to you.. it happened so quickly it almost felt fake. Michael gently pushed you back onto the couch, so that you were basically laying down flat on your back. You pulled him back with you so that he was on top, your hands automatically going to his shoulders.. feeling the sudden urge to yank his black top off and to feel his skin under your palms. The feeling was tempting; you could feel how hot his skin was even with his shirt on. You assumed your hands were cold by the way Michael shivered and even groaned when you touched him, that had to be the only logical explanation for him acting like that..

The manner in which he bent down, his lips getting closer and closer to yours was nothing but diabolic. He stopped until the point where his lips were just ghosting above yours - maybe only really a mere centimeter away from touching. It felt entirely far too tempting to just - barely tilt your head forward and stop whatever game your friend Langdon was trying to play, but.. you didnt. In reality; the teasing was far too delicious for you to want it to end so soon.

"Who said I just wanted to be friends"? He whispered.

You could taste his breath as he spoke, you felt trapped.. But if you were to be honest with yourself, you wouldn't rather spend Valentines Day any other way than in this manner.. Trapped with your absolute favorite person, with nothing else in the world to do but to get lost in each other.

His lips roughly collided with yours with such passion that you really haven't ever felt before. It threw you off guard for a moment, but you figured there was no sense in shying from it. You had been craving to be loved by him for so long; craving for him to touch you like this and now that it was finally happening.. you only relaxed and embraced the feeling.

Time slipped away from you far too quickly but after all; time didn't really feel real at all when you were underground in a bunker. No windows or clocks to help ground you back into reality..

You knew it was atleast passed midnight now; hours had passed and you two were now residing in one of the random rooms that you had come to learn was of 'Outpost Three'. It was apparent how careful he was with his words when he told you about the place; almost like he didn't want to tell you too much. He told you most of everything, like the cooperative and how this building was for some type of event that would be taking place in the summer but you didn't probe farther. You knew he would tell you in all due time.

You two were lying on a random, spare bed. It was luxurious and dangerously soft, but if you were honest - the sheets almost seemed scratchy in comparison to Michaels bare skin. Your head wasnt on a pillow but instead on Michael's bare chest, his rhythmic heart beat nearly lulling you to sleep. Almost putting you in some type of odd trance.

You both watched the movie that was playing on his laptop; propped up on a few sparse pillows at the end of the bed. Although you really weren't trying to keep up with what was happening or what the actors were even saying. Instead, you chose to be fully present with Michael, almost entranced in his presence. You two weren't talking but, just being surrounded by him - feeling his fingers lazily playing with your hair was heaven to you.

You still felt as if you were in a dream. After all in what timeline would you ever be so lucky to call someone like Michael, yours?? Even though you two weren't exactly official, you really didn't mind at this moment. Labels only seemed to really complicate things and in your opinion; you felt more than privileged to just sit here entangled with Michael, and to escape the rest of reality for a while.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon

#michael x reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs fanfiction #my fic #i hope yall like this 🥺 its kinda odd i feel like but.. idk. im proud of the ending lmao #will post to ao3 in a few hours or so #lemme know if u would like to be on the taglist #I almost cut out the backstory of how they met but i just feel like it overall adds to the fic??#ALSO the timing of this fic is probably not accurate at all like canon wise loll but idc

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songofclarity · 3 years

Note

(Was going through my notes app and found this but I'm not sure if I already sent it to you or not so I'm sending it again just in case lol please ignore if you already received this ask)

Idk if this would count as a prompt or rant lol but I kinda hate it when fics imply WRH has no taste (I mean this would work for CQL WRH but personally I don't consider CQL WRH Canon) IMO he must be extra and refined and picky in his tastes. He probably goes to a conference in an other sect and judges them very hard for their lack of taste and refinement.

Like everytime he's in koi tower he goes "look how gaudy this place is. Some people think covering everything in gold makes it look refined and elegant" and that's without talking of JGS's private "parties" that he has to attend sometimes and that leave him wanting to either set koi tower on fire or go home, take a long scalding bath, and scrub the whole outer layer of his skin off.

He doesn't know who's the genius who thought building lotus Pier on a pond was a good idea but he doesn't see the appeal of the stench, the unbearable humidity, and all the insects! He also thinks it's very improper how the jiangs can't keep their domestic arguments private and how madam Yu has to involve everyone in LP in her marital affairs, even the guests! WRH doesn't want to be part of your latest hysterics ma'am! He just took his 3rd bath of the day and is trying to have a nice refreshing drink in this suffocating heat, please leave him alone!

The "unclean realm" is truly worthy of its name in his opinion, the servants must be utterly incompetent and lazy to leave the main hall dusty like this and serve the dinner cold and an hour late. Also did no one teach the Nies basic table manners like "don't chew your food with your mouth open" and "don't speak with your mouth full" and "don't have an arm wrestling match at the dinner table" ?

The Cloud Recesses is tolerable enough but why would anyone need 3000 rules to live with? That's a little overboard isn't it? And how do the lans survive on their diet? are they descended from rabbits? Also who told LQR a 4 hour lecture on the history of Lan poetry was a good post conference entertainment? And how is WRH supposed to go through the ordeal without even a cup of wine? Maybe he should fake a migraine and retire to his room early?

Needless to say WRH thinks nightless city is the best by far and that's his objective opinion! No, he doesn't think he's being biased because nightless city is his home where he grew up and spent his whole life.

Everyone has a right to their own headcanons, but I agree, the mere idea that Wen RuoHan has no taste is just bizarre. Last I checked, those festivities he hosted in Qishan were a hit! No one was complaining about having to eat Qishan Wen food or put on some Qishan Wen disciple robes or shoot some QIshan Wen kites. Wangxian wearing Qishan Wen robes even has plenty of official art and merch because the style looks so darn good!

And those are the robes worn with pride by Qishan Wen cultivators and disciples on the norm. Everyone wants to be part of the Qishan Wen, guest cultivators love being part of the Qishan Wen! It’s only those other sects that have an issue with them, and it’s never an issue with Wen RuoHan’s taste.

But Wen RuoHan having an issue with everyone’s else’s taste is hilarious. I did receive this message before, but since you wrote so much already, let’s just play around with the idea for now! There are four reasons he never wants to leave his home and they’re called Cloud Recesses, Koi Tower, Lotus Pier, and the Unclean Realm, in that order...

As opposed to finding Cloud Recesses tolerable enough, my thought is that Wen RuoHan would think it's the worst! There is something very arrogant about not only having 3,000 rules, but immortalizing them on stone and forcing them on your guests. Wen RuoHan is the leader of the Qishan Wen. He is NOT a child! Wen RuoHan does NOT go to bed at 9 if he doesn’t feel like it and his subordinates CAN play music for him at 10 to help him sleep! All this smell of sandalwood is aggravating his headache from listening to Lan QiRen for three hours. His servants had to go to Gusu to buy his party a real dinner. So get these annoying Gusu Lan off his porch, he doesn’t need them trying to boss him around! The audacity of this place! One more word out of them and he’s burning this place to the ground!

Jin GuangShan invited Wen RuoHan to one (1) of his private parties and it lasted less time than it takes to burn a stick of incense. Wen RuoHan is not cultivating a perfect body for other people to touch and he did NOT travel all this way to watch Jin GuangShan and his posse act like animals in heat. What do you mean they were fucking in the kitchen? In the main hall?? Are these sheets clean or was Jin GuangShan here, too??? The waters of Lotus Pier are sounding quite nice right about now because it will take that much water to make Wen RuoHan feel clean again...! Don’t ever invite him to Koi Tower again, Jin GuangShan, letters only.

Lotus Pier is kind of... uncomfortable. Messy. Half-eaten lotus pods around the place, abandoned robes hanging off ledges by the water (he’s getting Koi Tower flashbacks), and disciples lounging half-dressed in the sun like lazy cats. Is this even a sect? Is he lost?? Who is in charge here??? There should be at least some order. But ah, he can’t be mad about the kids making too much noise outside. Wen RuoHan loves his kids, after all, and then there is Jiang Fengmian, who only keeps bringing up his bastard, which Wen RuoHan supposes is an improvement to Jin GuangShan. Oh, Wei WuXian is an orphan, son of a former servant, brought to Lotus Pier at age 8? Very talented, is he? And... Jiang FengMian didn't adopt him? Bring him into the family? Now Yu ZiYuan is staring at her husband with enough intensity to melt steel. This conversation just got awkward real fast. Also the lotus seeds taste nasty but everyone here keeps eating them like it’s normal. This place is making Wen RuoHan feel like a crazy person and he needs to go.

Now the Unclean Realm is strangely tolerable if only because it’s laughable. Wen RuoHan has never felt so important in his life. He is the sun in the sky if only because they never take their eyes off of him! Everyone looks like they might snap in half if he breathes too hard. Was that a laugh he heard or was it the wind? He touched a door and now three people are inspecting it as if it were poisoned. None of these people have so much as heard of entertainment. (What do you mean it’s because they don’t trust him? What did he do??) He did like what he saw of the saber practice, but they all pounced on him as if he were trespassing, as if they caught him in the middle of a murder! He knows all the sects call them Wen-dogs, but the Nie are the ones hounding his step everywhere he goes! Aren't they exhausted being so uptight? Because he's exhausted just watching them.

Nightless City truly is home sweet home 💖

#drawing-kitty1 #asked from above #wen ruohan #wrh is like Yikes you really live like this #i'd love to write this is full #a longer fic would suit it really well~#wrh-centric as events are playing out and he's visiting these places

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

My Pace (Drabble)

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyujin (SKZ)

Warnings: Smut and Language

Genre: Street Racer AU

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Initially, Y/N only came to the race track because she wanted to keep a close eye on her mischievous little brother, Seungmin. She certainly didn’t expect to catch the attention of one of the racers who seems determined to impress her.

I loved the rare mornings when the sky was nothing but an endless blue paradise, undisturbed in its picturesque setting. During the Summer, that often precluded long, miserable hot days, but in the Fall, the weather was much more tolerable. It also marked the start of my town’s local racing league, which basically meant that a bunch of high-school and college-aged teens showed up at the abandoned track downtown to race their sports cars.

They could race for hours, swerving dangerously around the curves and accelerating close enough to touch bumpers with the car in front of them. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber was pervasive, and all the other girls seemed to go crazy. They would scream and cheer for the cars as they zoomed past the stands as if the drivers insider could possibly see their individual faces.

In all honesty, it actually wasn’t so bad, especially when they opened the concession stand booth because I could occupy my time with candy snacks and popcorn. But the only reason I even came to the track was because of my younger brother, Seungmin. If he wanted to sneak out of the house undetected by my parents to race, then I felt the need to follow him and ensure that he kept out of trouble. In such a dangerous and high-risk sport, I only wanted the best for my little brother.

I also knew that it would be impossible to dissuade his passion for racing, so it was best to simply linger around the edges of the track and watch him. Because, for the most part, the other competitors never tried to do anything too outlandish. They obeyed the rules since they couldn’t risk getting kicked out, and some of the older students even invited everyone to bonfire parties after the events.

But I never went to those parties. I was only at the track to watch over Seungmin, and I trusted him enough to spend the night with Jeongin if he drank too much. You see, Seungmin enjoyed the social aspect of the races just as much as the actual competition, and he had tried to introduce me to his friends. They seemed nice enough, even if I only ever saw them after races with sweat perspiring on their skin, but I wasn’t looking for long-term friendships at the track. Because, at the end of the day, I didn’t share Seungmin’s passion for racing or the sleek model cars with impossibly loud engines.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Seungmin’s friends weren’t also disinterested in my company. Especially Hwang Hyunjin, the tall and lanky 16-year-old who embodied the phrase: “rebel without a cause.” Hyunjin always smoked cheap cigarettes while he waited for his partner-in-crime, Han Jisung, to make repairs under the hood of his Mustang. Apparently, the car was more trouble than it was worth, but Hyunjin had nothing else to race, so he was forced to worry over the engine on a regular basis.

He was very attractive, especially his figure, and I had caught myself staring a time or two when he crawled out from his car after a race. And Hyunjin also had long, blonde-colored hair that he pulled back away from his handsome face, exposing the expanse of his forehead and the proud cheekbones that stood out prominently. He always wore black jeans that were too big for him, and some corny t-shirt that hung limply from his shoulders. He was an irresponsible teen who didn’t seem to care that much for his safety, and he always made an effort to talk to me at the racing events, even though I had tried to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in his conversation.

For example, after one such event, Hyunjin arrogantly posed with his recently won trophy after securing first place yet again, wiping his greasy shirt sleeves against the plaque on the front. He easily found me in the stands, dropping the trophy onto the bleachers next to me before offering his best smile. “Did you see me, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked. “I was six seconds ahead of your brother.”’

“Hmmm?” I replied, entirely disinterested as I scanned through the contents of my phone screen.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin tried again, and he boldly reached out to lower my phone screen and force my attention. “I’m having a party at my place tonight. You’ll come, right?”

I smirked. “I don’t go to those parties, Hyunjin.”

“You don’t?” Hyunjin hesitated, and a decidedly chastened look affected the usual arrogance of the smile that he was clearly forcing.

I guess that was enough to make me feel a little bad when I thought about Hyunjin’s poor attempts at flirting. “I can maybe come over for an hour.”

Hyunjin immediately brightened, shoulders rising as he cleared his throat and fetched a cigarette from his grease-stained pocket. He held the unlit stick between his teeth. “I’ll see you there.”

It only took me exactly fifteen minutes to hate the party at Hyunjin’s house.

His parents must never come home very much because Hyunjin didn’t seem to care that his friends were trashing everything, littering the floors with discarded bottles of beer and food wrappers. It was a complete mess, and the music was too loud, thunderous with some kind of generic bass that had me retreating outside to find some fresh air. However, I was surprised to find Hyunjin outside as well, smoking as he looked out into the darkness. “Oh,” I said, drawing his attention. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not,” Hyunjin said with a raspy tone, beckoning me closer with a delicate crook of his fingers. “I needed a break too.”

“It’s your party,” I reminded him, and Hyunjin laughed, running his fingers through his messy hair.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agreed. “But sometimes it can get crazy with the older kids.”

“I guess you don’t mind that they’re trashing your place?”

“I’ve got people who can clean that for me,” Hyunjin said, but it wasn’t boastful. In fact, there was a hint of resentment in his tone that he quickly banished with a shake of his head. “Hey, you want to see something?”

I nodded because I had nothing better to do, following him to the back of the house where he messed with a combination panel on the side of the building to reveal the inside of an impressive garage. “Holy shit,” I cursed, surveying the dozens of collector cars decorating the inside.

“They’re my dads,” Hyunjin said, tossing aside his cigarette before leading me to the first car. “He won’t let me drive them.”

“What’s the point, then?” I asked around a laugh. “I might not know much about cars or racing, but these seem pretty impressive.

“Which one do you like the most?” Hyunjin asked, and I pointed to the cherry-red Corvette. “You have good taste.”

He reached for my hand, and I shivered at the contact, allowing him to pull me closer to the gorgeous model. “He takes good care of them,” I remarked, and I was too afraid to touch the glistening paint.

“You want a closer look?” Hyunjin asked, reaching for the door handle of the passenger side without really waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I said, waiting for Hyunjin to recline the seat before carefully leading me into the back. I laughed at the absurdity of the situation before I lowered my head to accommodate the car’s smaller height, and I made sure to close the door behind us...just in case.

In the meantime, Hyunjin and I crowded together in the backseat, brushing shoulders while he giggled and reached for my hand between us. “This is kinda sexy, right?” he asked, and I scoffed at his claim.

“What do you mean?” I asked, wholly unprepared for the way he moved in closer, making the space between us even smaller.

“You know I like you, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I could feel his breath fanning across my face. “I didn’t think I was exactly subtle.”

“No,” I agreed, studying his eyes and the fascinating way they seemed to reflect the light from the garage. “But you know I only show up for my brother.”

Hyunjin sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before coming to a realization. “That doesn’t mean you can’t like it.”

His lips hovered against mine, almost teasingly, like he was testing his limits. “Hyunjin...”

He silenced me with a gentle kiss, and Hyunjin tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, but I ignored the combination as I allowed him to lick inside my mouth. It was actually really good, and he knew exactly what he was doing, pulling back only to reclaim my lips again before I could question whether or not this was a good idea. “Y/N,” he eventually whispered, looking at me with lust-filled eyes. “Please.”

I traced the swollen purse of my bottom lip before nodding, allowing him to pull me into his lap as our kisses grew feverish. It felt like there were fireworks going off all around us, electrifying the air and blinding my senses. But I was enraptured with the feeling of Hyunjin’s touches, and I started to trail my hands underneath his shirt, surprised when my fingers ran across the hard lines of his abdomen.

Oh, so there was muscle underneath those baggy clothes.

“Turn around,” he whispered, and he helped me carefully maneuver myself in our limited space. It was difficult, but Hyunjin pulled me against his chest, adjusting our positions so that his hand could crawl its way under the waistband of my shorts.

I whimpered when I felt his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and his other hand directed my chin to the side so that he could distract me with another kiss. It was a distraction that proved worthwhile, and I became lost in the hypnotic feel of his lips while his fingers started to part the folds of my labia, prodding at the entrance of my wet pussy.

I gasped into our kiss, stroking his tongue with messy movements while he started to thumb across my clitoris, providing the perfect stimulation in addition to the slow penetration of his fingers. “So beautiful,” he remarked, looking at me with hooded eyes, and I could see the way the muscle in his arm started to flex as he scissored his fingers against the sensitive walls of my pussy.

“Hyunjin,” I tried again, trying to fight the heavy fog weighing down on my shoulders as I relaxed further into his touches, allowing him to support me against his chest while his sinful fingers continued their work on pleasuring me. The squelching sounds becoming loud and downright vulgar in the narrow space of the car’s backseat.

“What a dirty girl, Y/N,” Hyunjin remarked, and he was suddenly moving faster, sliding his fingers through my juices while flicking his thumb across my throbbing clitoris. He handled me with such skill, and I was turned on beyond belief as I fell apart on his fingers, chasing his lips for more kisses as my hips started kicking in time to his rapid thrusts.

I swallowed around a moan when the heat became unbearable, and my legs started to shake, fighting to close against the intrusion of his fingers. I could feel myself teetering on the precipice, closing my eyes to savor the pleasurable ache building in my lower abdomen, muscles clenching tightly as I exhaled around the sudden and explosive release. I cried loudly as a result, chasing the fiery waves of my orgasm while Hyunjin removed his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips to lick over the evidence of my arousal.

I shivered at the sight before I reached behind me, squeezing his cock through the loose material of his pants. Meanwhile, Hyunjin removed his fingers from his mouth, turning his gaze to my hand as it gave his cock some much-needed attention. Eventually, I grew frustrated with the barrier of his pants, turning around in the narrow space to support myself on my knees as I helped him tug down his jeans and boxers. Immediately, his cock sprung free from the restrictive material, standing proudly against his stomach.

And I was practically salivating, tracing one finger against the head of his cock and watching as he jerked in response. “Y/N,” Hyunjin whined, and I allowed my hand to enclose itself around his erection, squeezing at the base because it seemed to drive him insane. And I tugged at him with lazy movements, studying the way his head fell back against the window, breaths coming out in harsh pants that continued to fog up the glass surrounding us.

When I pulled my hand away, Hyunjin opened his eyes, looking at me desperately as I spread out my legs and lowered myself to meet his cock at eye-level. He understood my intentions, lacing his fingers through my hair as his hips practically jumped in my face. I stilled them with a glare, swallowing hard as I allowed my tongue to trace across his narrow slit, following the little beads of precum that had gathered at the tip.

Hyunjin exhaled harshly, fidgeting around as he fought to keep himself in place, and I ended his torment by opening my mouth and taking him inside the wet cavern. He moaned with delight at the sensation, brushing my bangs out of my eyes as I took him even deeper, deciding that the taste of his precum was preferable to the alcohol and cigarettes from earlier.

I wasn’t that experienced with sucking cock, but I knew the basics, and Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying my efforts. Huffing around little whines as he begged me for more. And I was willing to give him everything, hollowing my cheeks as I felt the tip of his cock touch the back of my throat, forcing me to gag around his erection. “Do that again!” Hyunjin said, and I complied with his request, deep throating him until I couldn’t breathe before pulling off and using my hand to tug at his foreskin.

He was incredibly soft to the touch, and I could tell that he was close, hips practically humping against my fingers. I smiled at the sight of Hyunjin because he looked totally wrecked and ruined, but I still wanted to know what he looked like when I took him completely apart. So, I returned my lips to his cock, swallowing him down around a moan. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Hyunjin chanted, like it was his life’s mantra, forcing his cock down further as I tried to relax the muscles in my throat.

Tears were falling from the corners of my eyes, and my jaw was starting to ache from his girth. Still, I managed to persevere, and I heard his warning just before I tasted his cum on my tongue as he released down my throat. I swallowed hard to force it down, groaning as his taste lingered on my tongue. Afterward, Hyunjin sighed in relief, wiping the sweat from his brow as he petted at my cheeks with gentle fingers. I looked up at him as I pulled back from his cock, and the flaccid length fell between us as I leaned forward to kiss Hyunjin again, struggling to find purchase on his chest.

“Thank you,” I finally managed, meeting his intense gaze as he grabbed my face between his hands to press his lips against the tear-stained tracks falling down my cheeks.

“You’re so good, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and he pulled me closer into a necessary embrace, and I savored the warmth from his chest as we both came down from our highs.

I guess the next time I came to the track, I would be sure to look for Hyunjin.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin smut #skz hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x y/n

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jjyusmile · 4 years

Text

room for one more? | lee juyeon

lee juyeon | room for one more?

pairing: lee juyeon x {gender-neutral} reader!

word count: 5k

notes: this is the kinda fluff that everyone wants, be prepared. a smidgen of angst bc why not and also slightly suggestive but we don’t get into the ~hmm hmm~ if you know what I mean? lee juyeon holds a massive spot in my heart and i wanna show how goddamn great he is in my mind so here ya go.

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The wind slowly brush your hair across your face with another gust setting it back into place – you were content. Every summer your family came down to the beach for a weekend of camping. An annual tradition. A tradition that slowly turned from thirteen families coming together for a weekend, to just you and your twelve friends for a night by the beach. You were around 17 when your parents stopped tagging along, with the boys’ parents slowly following suit. You didn’t mind so much though; some thought you were strange to hang out with twelve boys, but they were like brothers to you. Except one…

The crackling of the fire brought you back to reality, as tusks of smoke gradually rose from the open flame. Younghoon and Sangyeon were chopping vegetables and grilling meat, the smell made your mouth water as you swigged from your cup to fill the empty void in your stomach. It didn’t take long for Hyunjae to continue filling your cup further from the crate of beer he’d gotten from his uncle as a graduation present. This was the second year that your parents hadn’t joined; last year, you had gotten quite carried away with the strength of your alcohol tolerance, as Hyunjae loved to remind you.

“You don’t need to fill it up you know, I can barely get two sips in before its filled to the top again” you grumbled, holding back a smile at his cheeky grin.

His hand slowly retreated away from your cup. “Sorry, cupcake. Or should I start to call you Budweiser – King of Beers?” he retorted, his eyebrow lifting to taunt you further.

Hyunjae had called you cupcake ever since he and his mother found you hiding in their pantry at his 7th birthday party, icing smeared around your mouth reinforcing the evidence at the scene of the crime. You huffed and shoved his shoulder – he began to lose his balance and fell off the log backwards from where you were both perched on it. Your laughter filled the small area that you and the boys occupied, a sound unbeknownst to said boys. Except one…

You could feel his gaze, as he sat beside Sunwoo, humming along to the inaudible song he was practicing on his guitar. You turned to meet his gaze, which he quickly dodged and turned his attention back to the instrument in his hand.

Oh, Juyeon… You kept your gaze on him just for a moment longer than usual. His hair glistened ever so slightly under his cap in the light from the flame. You were sat directly opposite him, a prime position for the attention you hoped from him, but never got.

Your heart swelled a little, knowing that he had been looking, but gradually deepened once more when you realized he never actually wanted to be caught. The weight of the log shifted as a figure occupied the space that Hyunjae had just fallen from. You turned to face Changmin, who returned your gaze with a knowing look. He knew how you felt, he was the only one who you had spoken to about Juyeon. About how frustrating it was that the boy who used to sneak into your tent as his parents fought would now avoid you like the plague.

You were close to each of the boys, but Juyeon and Changmin held a special place in your heart. Their own life-long friendship didn’t mind being interrupted when you entered the classroom as the new student with no friends. Walking into your new class, your slightly discoloured dungarees and Power Rangers lunch box in hand made the girls turn away from you – you didn’t fit in with them, at all. But the empty space on the table with those two boys, at the back of the classroom, opened your heart to realise there was good in the world for a six-year-old. They were your first friends, and that held so much importance for you. This feeling was confirmed, 13 years later, by the slight nudge of Changmin’s shoulder onto yours, followed by a sip from his own cup.

“You know,” he began… “you can always approach him.” His eyes reflected in the orange flickers too; if you weren’t his best friend and subsequent pain in the ass, you probably would’ve fallen for him. His shy smile but courageous personality shone like the stars in the sky. You smiled at him gratefully, with a nod of acknowledgement, but not necessarily understanding. You knew you could approach him, you’ve known that for the last year or so that Juyeon started to avoid one-on-one interaction with you. It began when your Friday night sleepovers turned into just Changmin turning up at your doorstep with the latest horror movie he could find and a tray of freshly baked cupcakes, courtesy of Hyunjae’s mum, Mrs. Lee.

Sighing, you stood from your crouched position by the fire pit announcing that you’d just be a minute, before heading the opposite direction to the commotion you could hear near the tents. Changmin went back to helping the rest of the boys put up their temporary homes for the night, and you followed the shore to a quiet spot where you could watch the sunset. You could feel a particular set of eyes on you once more, but you were too tired to do anything about it. If he wanted to interact with you, he’d have to do it himself.

A cluster of rocks was placed perfectly in the sand for you to perch on as the sun turned the sky from a luminous orange to a dusty rose with stars randomly sparking across the skyline. You took your phone out of the kangaroo pouch of your hoodie to play some music, but halted at your lock screen. Your favourite smiles looked back at you as the picture of Juyeon and Changmin appeared – their eyes crinkled like crescent moons with their smiles wide, standing in front of the scary ride they had just pledged to go on at the funfair. This picture meant more to you than any other, because an excitable Changmin’s attention was on the ride itself, but Juyeon was focused on the person who took the picture. Your heart swelled again – a little more this time at the fond memory of your trip to the fair. You quickly locked the phone again before you let your emotions get to you. The boys cared about you a lot, and automatically knew when you had cried from the puffiness of your eyes and blotchy cheeks.

The faint sound of Sangyeon’s call for food grabbed your attention, and you realized time had passed quickly. You were sat alone staring at the sky, with a fond memory but heavy heart. You knew you didn’t have a shot at grabbing the food you wanted as the boys crowded around the make shift food table like scavenges, as you approached the table you were proved right. But your longing and heavy heart meant that you didn’t have the energy to care. Changmin reached over and placed a chicken thigh on your plate with a big smile that washed away some of your heavy emotion; you returned the smile thankfully and scooped the last of the rice onto your plate and grabbed the final pair of chopsticks that remained. You saw the boys munching on the corn on the cobs that you brought specifically for yourself, but again, you didn’t have much energy despite Changmin’s attempts. They were your favourite, but it was your own fault for walking away from these demanding and ravenous boys.

You took your spot next to Changmin once more. He and Chanhee were arguing over which part of the chicken tasted the best, an argument they’ve pondered many times. Their light-hearted attempt to spark conversation with the group distracted you for a moment. But the sudden weight that made its way onto your plate grabbed your attention. A perfectly charred corn, exactly how you liked it. You were quick enough to catch the figure that continued their route behind you, too familiar for you not to recognise. But Juyeon sat back in his spot and pretended like nothing had happened. But it did happen, and that’s what confused you the most.

With your attention captured, the content of your plate was left long enough to go cold. The change in the sky made the flames enhance the melanin of his skin that made you want to stick your finger in it. The way his oversized grey t-shirt rose a little as he sipped at the beer Sunwoo had passed to him, and the way his baseball cap was angled slightly that caused a shadow on his jawline was too much to ignore. It took a few moments for him to notice you staring, by that time his stare was just as intimidating – you wondered whether you should have chosen a nicer top and fluffy beige cardigan that you originally picked over the oversized sweatshirt and jeans you threw on moments before Hyunjae had picked you up. His stare softened slightly, a moment that went unnoticed by you - it seems you forgot that the oversized jumper you were wearing was the hoodie that Juyeon thought he had lost. Luckily, his growing smile was overshadowed by his cap once more as he turned away from you.

The conversation beside you was getting more intense, but you stared back at the contents of your plate. What does this mean?

The thought didn’t leave you for hours. You had said goodnight to the boys just after midnight, ensuring to avoid any eye contact with the one that was clouding your mind at this very moment. Changmin followed you to your tent to make sure you were okay.

“It definitely wasn’t the chicken, right? I told Chanhee that the thigh was the best part but I can’t win this argument if it made you sick!” His doe eyes concluded that as joking as he sounded, he was absolutely serious about his argument.

You chuckled lightly. “I’m okay, I promise.” Your small smile brought a wave of relief over Changmin. It warmed your heart to know how much he cared about you, and you hoped he knew it was reciprocated. Reaching over to kiss his cheek, you hugged him tighter than normal. “I love you, Q-t. Thank you for taking care of me.”

The slight tinge of his ears made both of you giggle, with his hands flying to cover the evidence. But his smile told you that he loved you too.

The noise outside of your tent began to quiet as Changmin made his way back to the fire pit, whilst giving out to Hyunjae’s “mWOHASEYO?!” that could have been heard across the ocean. These boys would be the death of you, but you wouldn’t replace them for the world.

You had taken your parents double sleeping bag this year, as your single one made you feel trapped despite the size of the three-person tent. After changing into your bicycle shorts and baggy shirt, you snuggle into the covers as the rain began to fall, splatters echoing across the outside of your tent. The squeal of Changmin told you that the boys were getting soaked and you did nothing but laugh at their misery. The bustling outside of your tent made you forget about your worries for the time being, as the calmness of the rain filled your ears. Hyungseo, Joonyoung were shouting for Youngjae to grab more beers beside your tent as they made their way into their own. You knew somewhere that Hyunjoon, Haknyeon and Chanhee were squealing just as loud as Changmin as their clothes got drenched.

Speak of the devil, Changmin’s shadow came toward your tent looking for a haven. The quickness of the zip made you sit up and shift the sleeping bag and your belongings that scattered across the tent so that you could make room. As he stepped into the tent, you continued your task, but played with a threatening tone. “I swear to god, Q, if you even get a single droplet of water on me or my side, I will absolutely, one hundred percent chop off your –“

“Room for one more?”

Your eyes snapped up in shock. You were met with melting brown ones that you wish you could forget

Closing the zipper to hide from the rain, Juyeon’s eye line slowly levelled with yours, a small smile on his face. Your breath hitched in your throat. The look of fear in your eyes made his grin disappear, replacing his once happy expression with a look of concern.

“You – How? – Why are you here, Juyeon? Don’t you have your own tent?” You hated how you stuttered. The habit you had gotten out of when you hit puberty only returned when you were nervous. A complete giveaway to the person you were trying to appear stern towards.

That moment, his eyes flickered everywhere that wasn’t your face as he rambled that “Sunwoo left the zipper open and the rain flooded our tent. He’s hopped in with Sangyeon and Hoon. But there was no room anywhere else. I can go and ask Changmin or Hyunjoon if they want to sleep here instead. I – I’m sorry if –” The faltering noise in your throat made him stop his muttering and look you in the eye once more.

“No – uh, it’s okay. There’s enough room, I guess. I only have one sleeping bag but I guess if we open it up it can reach over to the other side of the tent…” you stammered. This was not how you had planned to talk to him for the first time in a year. You thought you’d be screaming, crying, defeated. This was much different – but you took this as an opportunity to reconcile… hopefully.

Juyeon just nodded in response, and made his way over to the edge of the tent opposite you. Just as he used to when you were younger. There were two things that Juyeon came to your tent for: when his parents argued or during a thunderstorm. The latter thought combined with the rain outside made his original explanation seem a little skewed. The sudden nostalgia made your tense body relax a small bit, and you huddled back under the cover while passing the other side toward Juyeon. The slight tug told you he was under it and you could feel his body warmth immediately. But his presence made you feel more claustrophobic than your old sleeping bag ever did. Your nostrils filled with the scent you had longed for in all comfort-seeking situations – a subtle hint of ocean spray mixed with autumn leaves. It’s why you loved to be by the ocean, it reminded you of him.

Finding the silence deafening, he spoke up. “How was your corn?” You could see a slight smile make its way to his lips, with the limited light from the moon and reflecting different shades of blue through the roof of the tent.

“It was good. Thank you, I was devastated when I saw you scavenges had taken them all.” I admitted, a little too open in emotion, and completely forgetting the last year of silence. He chuckled lightly at your honesty – “I figured. Sangyeon had charred that one perfectly, so I snagged it before anyone else could get it.”

Your cheeks became hot at the realization that he meant he hadn’t taken it for himself, he was thinking of you. But the thought made you more confused than ever, and the moment of reconciliation slowly faded as did your energy. It was minutes before either of you tried conversation again, but again it died as quickly as it started. You were frustrated.

Why has it come to this? What did I do?

But the only person that knew the answer to that, was lying a few feet away from you. Just do it.

“Juyeon?”

He hummed in response, to show he was listening to what you had to say.

Here goes.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” It came out quickly, a little too quickly. But the pain behind the question was no longer masked. And it made Juyeon lean up onto his side, leaning on his elbow as he looked down at what he believed was your eyes, the lack of light making it difficult to completely concentrate. That, and the loaded question you had just asked.

“I – I don’t know.” He admitted it calmly. But you were far from calm.

“You don’t know? You don’t know why you look the other way when I’ve tried to grab your attention. Or why Changmin has turned up to my house every Friday night since last summer all by himself.” You wanted to continue, but you were completely riled by the three worded, empty answer he gave to you.

“I’m sorry. That – I didn’t mean that I don’t know.” He began, drawing your attention back to the sincerity in his eyes. “I meant that I don’t know how to explain myself. It’s hard to talk about feelings when you’re too clouded in your own head.”

Feelings.

He continued, “I guess I’ll start with an apology…”

You were shocked. The candor in his tone made you want to never look away. It made you wonder why you had never asked in the first place. You were just as bad as he was by neglecting to confront the situation. You sighed and sat up, turning the small light on that hung from the ceiling.

As the light illuminated the tent, his sharp features became much more apparent. Looking down at him, you had switched roles. Now he looked intimidated by your gaze, just as you did when he looked down at you. But that moment ended with a crash of thunder and the lightning that lit up the whole tent like it had been struck.

The sudden flash scared Juyeon so much that he had jumped up and accidently hit the light in the process, flooding the tent again in darkness. Your hand went to your mouth in half shock, half laughter as you witnessed this grown man being scared by thunder just as much as he did when he was seven. His eyes were alert and you could hear his erratic breathing that made you want to comfort him just as you did back then.

Taking his hand and drawing variations of circles with your thumb you knew would bring him back to the present. But the charge of your skin touching was much more powerful than the lighting flash itself. It made you your eyes snap up at one another, now level as you both sat up in the tent. As your small hands held his right one, the warmth continued to radiate from his body into yours. It almost set your heart on fire.

The shock wore off and you started to do what you had intended as if nothing had happened. With one hand holding his hand in place, and the other drawing circles with your thumb to calm him down. It took him longer than usual to get his breathing steady, as the feeling of your electrified skin elongated the process. In the darkness, he could see your concentration on his hand which warmed his heart – it had been so long since you paid this much attention to him, let alone look his way. In reality, you both missed each other’s longing glances which was clouded by the thoughts of anxiety about your situation.

“I think – I’m okay now…” Juyeon accentuated his breathing to prove his point. But you didn’t stop, because you didn’t want to. The feeling of his hand filled the emptiness in your heart ever since he stopped talking to you. You loved Changmin, but nobody could fix this void except for Lee Juyeon. He noticed your hesitancy and took it upon himself to guide you back down under the covers. This time he was much closer, and he didn’t let go of your hand. You were content, you both were. The longing you had felt slowly faded as you had settled back into your reality together. Now you didn’t need to talk about it anymore. Anything that had happened was long forgotten by now.

You laid there together for a moment. Peacefully facing each other, Juyeon’s breath that fanned your face made you realise the proximity between you. But any anxiety washed away the moment his hand made its way to your thigh, drawing small circles. Just as you had moments ago. It had taken you this long to realise the size of his hands; the quick rate his chest rose and fell – you were focused on every detail of that moment.

“Hey,” he whispered, to which you hummed in response. “I’m sorry.”

You took a moment to take in the words you had wanted to hear for so long.

He is sorry. Do you want to know why? Is it best to forget about it?

Your silence made Juyeon act nervously, as he used that hand that continued to draw circles on your thigh to draw your body even closer to his. His hand shifted your head so it fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. The sudden action caused a strong waft of his scent to drown you and bring immediate comfort to your anxious figure. The way your lips grazed his collarbone brought a shiver over him, a moment you will relish in for a long time. Your power over him going unnoticed until now.

These actions occurred within the space of a minute. The final action being the feeling of his lips on your forehead as he applied more pressure than normal, as his emotions got the better of him. Your thoughts clouded once more as you questioned the motivation behind the kiss – the only sound drawing you back to reality was the rain that hit the tent at a force.

You pulled back to look at him, but not far enough that his arms moved from around you. You were locked in place by the feel of his embrace and the passion that shone from his eyes. Your questioning look made him put his emotions into words, as they poured out of him rushed and stammered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. I am sorry, I really am. I can’t explain how I feel completely, at this precise moment. The fact that you’re this close to me is extremely nerve-wracking. But I’m sorry that I’ve avoided you. I just couldn’t face you after I admitted it to myself. I can’t tell you when it began, and I don’t remember exactly when I felt the need to distance myself; it was a long time coming and I handled it badly, I know.”

As he paused to take a breath, you noticed how his hand ran back down to your thigh, drawing circles at a much quicker rate now to mirror his apprehension. The feeling ignited your insides and sent you into overdrive but his gaze was so overpowering that you couldn’t look away.

“There were times when I saw you messing around with Hyunjae that I just wanted to drag him away by the collar. Or if we were in a coffee shop and the barista drew your name with a small heart beside it, I saw red. Or even Changmin. He couldn’t hurt a soul. But it hurt me to see the way that you’d lie together on the sofa while we watched a movie every Friday. You’d team up to throw popcorn at me, while I tried my best to focus on the movie rather than the way his hand lingered a little too long on your hip to steady you from laughing.”

He took in another breath. You were unmoving. What is he saying?

“It has been years since I started feeling these things. And I tried to suppress them. I really did. But you captivated every moment of my day – from when I opened my eyes to the good night call we had before going to sleep. Even in my sleep, I could see your face. Just like now. I thought I needed to distance myself… but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

As his hand came up to touch your cheek, you became lost in his words completely. The thought that he reciprocated any feelings you had were never possible until this moment. As your eyes traced his facial features, from the small feathered earring that hooked onto his earlobe, to the sharp contour of his cheek bones, to the honesty that melted into his eyes, drawing your attention finally to his lips that spoke the next few words.

“And like that, I fell in love with you.”

The reality of his emotions burst through you as your eyes shut and Juyeon closed the gap between you. His plush lips slotted perfectly against yours, as if they were carved specifically for one another. The touch wasn’t rushed, but you felt his desperation as his lips opened and guided yours with him. The slowness of his movements and the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth made you melt into him; your hands moving from between you to the nape of his neck, as his pulled at your hips to bring as much contact as possible.

You pulled away first to gaze at him with as much love and passion as you could muster, with a lot of it taken from the sincerity of the kiss. You merely whispered the words he wanted to hear before he drew you back in again.

I love you, Lee Juyeon.

You woke a few hours later as the light began to shine through into the tent. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed up last night – a mixture of kisses, soft touches and moments that you had never thought possible. It was all followed by hours of talking; back to your reality.

A soft snore caught your attention and brought you back to being in Juyeon’s arms. At some point during the night the sleeping bag had been thrown off of your snuggled figures, with the warmth radiating from the leg he had swung over yours. His other leg wedged its way between your own, like a high score on Tetris.

Your gaze rested on his relaxed face, the worry visible last night had been completely erased and replaced with a look of content – one that likely mirrored your own. As your nose lightly tickled under his jaw, he breathed in deeply telling you that your sudden desire to take in this moment had stirred him awake. His movement shifted his weight from beneath you to on top of you, with his head now rested in your neck, his lips slowly trailing against your collarbone. Feeling his lips curve into a smile made your own twitch upwards, too.

Laying there in that moment, the last year vanished. It hurt you to think he distanced himself because of this, but you knew you could work it out. You always did.

Your attention shifted onto the pressure against your thigh and you realised that this journey might not be the easiest you’ve ever taken.

“Juyeon!” you squealed, as the realization dawned on him and the sound of his laughter filled the tent. “Again, really?!”

He shot up onto his elbows to lean over you, as he did what felt like days ago. The fluffiness of his hair made you want to run your hands through it. So, you did. His eyes slimmed into the crescent moons that you knew and loved as he took a moment to stare down at you, the glistening of his eyes filling you with adoration. With a quick peck, he got up and began to sort through the clothes that were flung across the tent in a hurry. The mesmerising curvature of his back distracted you from sorting out your own clothes. He began to hand you items of clothing one by one, implying that you were about to leave the tent. Something you hadn’t thought about doing. At this point, you’d neglected to listen to the chaos that ensued outside – you looked back at Juyeon with a slight fear.

He chuckled, the rings that adorned his slender fingers brought a chill to you as he caressed your face. “They had to find out at some point, love.”

Love. You shivered, not from the cold this time.

With a few deep breathes, and ensuring your clothing was on in the correct and appropriate manner, Juyeon took your hand and unzipped the tent with the other.

As the wind blew sharply, the chattered died down from the group of boys that had circled the fire pit with cups of coffee in their hands. Their faces turned from excitement to shock, with a screaming that came from none other than Changmin filled your ears as he looked down at your intertwined hands.

You and Juyeon looked down at what they were staring at, and then again at each other with a small, knowing smile that only you two shared. The shock quickly morphed into shouts and hollers as Juyeon led you to the circle to join them.

You took a seat between him and Changmin, who handed you a cup of steaming coffee accompanied by a wink. You quickly shoved him at the shoulder for his cheekiness, but turned your attention to your coffee when you realised Juyeon had placed an arm around your shoulder. You looked at him with complete adoration to which he returned with a wink and a squeeze of your shoulder. Unlike Changmin, he didn’t get a shove – just a flustered look that made you direct your attention back to your coffee, as a smile made its way to your face, and it didn’t plan on leaving.

#leejuyeon #juyeon #juyeon fluff #juyeon scenario #the boyz #the boyz fluff #the boyz scenario #juyeon best friend #the boyz au #juyeon au #ji changmin #tbz #tbz fluff #tbz scenario #tbz scenarios

293 notes · View notes

lokidiabolus · 3 years

Text

Last Resort - Chapter 2

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Pairing: Thomas x Newt

Warnings: ex boyfriends, AU

Summary: Three years after breaking up with Thomas, Newt finally thought the past of hating each other was behind them, until Thomas asked him for a favour - pretend they got back together for a week while staying at his parents’ home. Because it was an absolutely dumb idea, Newt was inclined to refuse, but then found himself in the house he used to visit when he was in love and happy and the bitter reality of only pretending for people he always liked made him miserable. But it was nothing against dealing with Thomas himself for a week straight and trying not to fall back in love that hurt them both.

Or: Prompt ch. 192 with added spice. Or something. I just needed to write for a while :’)

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I think I never did so much rewriting like I did with this chapter. I'm still not satisfied with it, but I swear my brain just can't come up with anything else. Scrapped like 6 pages asdfjslfjslfjsdl. Now it's short :c

Anyway, guess I just wanted a bit of Thomas' insight for it. He's complicated lol. Or maybe not really, just trying to keep up. Don't we all though lol.

Oh and @izzymultifan (actually remembered)

Unbetad!

EDIT: (17. 5. 2021) I edited the ending with a lil continuation of the scene I previously deleted, because I thought it was unnecessary, but then I returned to it after few days and thought it should stay. It's not very long but I guess it's kinda important.

***

Thomas woke up disoriented, thirsty and definitely not rested enough, like when his alarm goes off on a workday and he only slept for four hours. But here was no alarm, no work, just him waking up with a flinch and realizing he wasn’t in his flat, and he wasn’t alone either.

The blond hair right in his face immediately pushed him into realization he was holding onto Newt like he was his lifeline, one hand under the shirt on his belly, other on his chest clutching the fabric, and an unmistakable morning hello tenting his pants, digging right into Newt’s backside. In retrospect there wasn’t much worse Thomas could have done to him, except maybe having a hand down his pants (which admittedly he used to do sometimes when they were together, but then again, that situation definitely didn’t scream murder like it would now).

In a sleepy confusion that hazed his just-woken-up-brain he searched the foggy memory on how this situation came to be, no matter how familiar it felt to him. Newt made himself pretty clear about sleeping together, so the sudden closeness – well, more like an absolute merge, unless he’d slip in – no, no dirty thoughts, bad Thomas, bad – didn’t make much sense.

The night came back to him embarrassingly slow – he got drunk because for some reason his dad decided to decimate his super precious whiskey, even though normally he hoarded it like a dragon his gold. He could only think of Newt being the incentive, drinking the whiskey so fast in his dad’s eyes, while Thomas downed it all to save him from barfing (Newt’s alcohol tolerance never existed in the first place, he disliked about any kind of it, and as far as Thomas remembered he got drunk only once with vodka mixed with orange juice on Aris’ wedding, because he could barely taste the vodka in it until it was too late). Then the world started spinning, Newt dragged him to his room somehow… which sounded farfetched, so maybe dad helped, he drew blank around that area honestly, probably because he stood up and all the alcohol began circulating faster. Then they talked… probably, and then Thomas fell asleep, since that’s all he could recall.

And now his hard-on was trying to get some, and he held Newt against himself with sheer ferocity of an obsessive hugger off his meds and the realization dawned on him like tons of bricks. Was he going to wake him up if he let go? Newt always woke up at the slightest noise before, there was no way of going to pee at night without getting back to the blond blinking owlishly at him, asking what happened. Was this Newt he barely knew anymore still the same? Still twitchy and light sleeper and grumpy and slow to rise when getting up?

Thomas didn’t have much choice anyway, did he. He just had to let go either way, and preferably remove his hips from Newt’s back and act like it was no biggie to be hard when in bed with his ex. He slowly untangled his hand from the front of Newt’s shirt and retreated from under the shirt as well with the other hand and managed to roll onto his back without Newt visibly stirring, which was a success. Unless he pretended to be asleep to avoid talking to Thomas about pushing into him like a horny teenager, which also worked.

Not like he hadn’t been doing that in the last month of their relationship anyway, just... ignoring the problem until it went away (a problem named Thomas) and well, ultimately it succeeded. It would work now too, and Thomas refused to poke the wasp nest this early in the morning – judging from the clock at 8:04 – and just went with the flow.

Need coffee, he thought unhappily when the headache set in. And water. Maybe some alone time in a bathroom first.

Newt didn’t stir until Thomas slinked out of the bedroom, which was a complete lie.

***

“Dad, just drop it,” Thomas repeated for fourth time when his dad couldn’t stop haggling him about his childlike alcohol tolerance the moment he appeared in the kitchen, asking for black coffee. He couldn’t tell him he drank Newt’s portions and without that argument nothing would sound plausible anyway, so he just dodged it with an increasing headache. Newt got up about half an hour later and didn’t speak a word to him – Thomas would even say he avoided his eyes several times, which meant he was absolutely awake in the morning to witness all of Thomas’ struggle to even exist around him peacefully. Which he couldn’t for years, really, so this only proved it.

It was fine. Thomas learned how to deal with it, despite taking him two years to come in terms of being hated by a person he loved since he was 17. Well, everything around the breakup took a lot from him, but he dealt with all eventually, right? He could finally look Newt in the eye without having all the incoherent anger and frustration pile up and he could talk to him fine as well unless they breached one of the thousand forbidden topics. Like them. Like family. Like love. Like sleeping. Like breathing, existing and fucking just trying to live.

Anyway. All dealt with, of course. No hard feelings.

(Lots of them.)

“You dealt with the drunkard just fine, right Newt?” his dad chattered towards the blond, patting him on his back and Newt forced a smile and a nod. Thomas saw this particular expression too often to not recognize it and huffed while sitting down at the counter with his own coffee.

He was used to being a bad guy anyway, no matter how much of the blame he genuinely deserved. They both knew he didn’t get drunk because he wanted to get wasted enough to drop unconscious on a spot and Newt would be a hypocrite to badmouth him when he was pouring all his whiskey to Thomas’ glass with thankful expression yesterday. But then again, not even he could tell Thomas’ dad about it, so they just had to have this unspoken oh yes, Thomas is a real piece of work as always.

Which sort of sucked. But Thomas couldn’t care less what his dad thought about his alcohol tolerance, it wasn’t like he threw up everywhere or broke mum’s precious bowls set (again). Not that he expected Newt to defend him anyhow, but he could at least say nooo, he was fine, he just fell asleep or something. Not that it surprised him he didn’t, but…

“He used to drink majority of guys from my work under the table and now look at him,” his dad delivered his fifth Thomas can’t drink for shit jab. He sure loved to milk that. “At least he has you to look after him, huh.”

Thomas stared at Newt’s back with mild annoyance the more the blond refused to elaborate on anything, just smiling at his dad while making himself a cup of coffee, and then Thomas’s eyes suddenly fell on the nape of Newt’s neck with a vicious, red mark near the hairline, and his whole body seized up like he got paralyzed.

A hickey? Since when? From who? What? Wait, was Newt already dating somebody else?

Saying already like three years were short amount of time… Thomas mentally scolded himself and his body raised up on its own volition, like being pulled in by some invisible force towards the blond. He had no clue if it were a twisted need for revenge or vindication or just him being unable to come in terms of not being told or warned, or maybe all of it together, he just couldn’t stop and plastered himself all over Newt’s back, trapping him between his body and the counter, circling his thin waist like a vine (he got thinner for sure).

“Of course I have you, don’t I,” he purred into Newt’s ear, loud enough for his dad to hear perfectly, and felt how Newt’s whole body froze, his hand mid-stir of the coffee. Thomas could see how his Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped. “Looking after me when I get hammered into unconsciousness.”

“Yeah.” Newt’s voice sounded small, and Thomas wanted to bite down at that red, angry place on his nape like an animal. His dad probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but his ego sure would. He let his hands slide lower, to Newt’s hips, grabbing a handful, and the habitual movement made him restless. He did it zillion times during the time they were together. He did less, he did more, naked, clothed, lying, standing up, in whatever situation, touching Newt was his privilege.

And some fucking horny prick just took it?

Just marked his boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, Thomas, ex-boyfriend for three years, pull yourself together, you’re not 17 anymore – like a property and he didn’t even fucking notice?

Newt’s breath hitched and the spoon he was holding dropped into the coffee, splashing the black liquid around it, dribbling down the drawers under, making the blond curse under his breath.

“Sorry,” he immediately said towards Thomas’ dad who was handing him a cloth to wipe it with, and started squirming. “Thomas, leggo. Can’t reach.”

“Don’t wanna,” Thomas refused, squeezing Newt even tighter. “I’m hangover and miserable and you’re supposed to take care of me.”

Thomas’ dad snorted but took the hint and retreated while calling at his wife the boys are being rowdy again, Anna! And the kitchen fell back into silence, except of their breathing, with Thomas plastered against Newt’s back like he wanted to topple him over (he sort of did).

“Do you enjoy being a bloody prick?” Newt finally broke the spell, pawing at Thomas’ hands to get them off, his voice an angry whisper. “What’s your deal, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hangover,” Thomas huffed, not letting go and to be completely honest, Newt wasn’t really trying as much, just slapping his hands half-heartedly. “Could’ve at least said I didn’t give you any trouble, I covered for you the whole night.”

“You gave me loads of it!” Newt started wiggling, and Thomas had to fight the urge to just bite down, mark any piece of skin available, to make the restlessness go away. “You were heavy as fuck, I had to carry you all the way to your room!”

“Yeah, and?” Thomas grabbed him lower, and Newt pinched his hand in revenge, which finally made him let go with sharp breath.

“Fuck you,” the blond barked at him with fiery eyes. “I don’t know what you are trying to prove but groping me is not on the bloody table, get it?!”

“Mhm,” Thomas rubbed the place Newt pinched him at. “Sure. No fun allowed, got it.”

“Fuck off!”

Thomas hated how Newt turned away and the hickey was so visible it made his insides churn. He used to talk about his problems a lot these past few years, so he could finally let go of whatever was holding him in place, unable to forget, and he thought he reached that point, that he was free.

Looking at Newt marked by another man… no. He was not. Still stuck, still the same.

Still angry and miserable.

Still… there.

***

The fact Newt refused to talk to him completely was an understatement. Thomas blamed his unsteady approach on the alcohol, because what else he could blame it on – his own feelings? He sodealt with those already, there was nothing that would make him see red.

Except of a hickey on his ex-boyfriend’s neck, that would do it. Apparently.

But still – it was the hangover that made him stupid, right. If he’d be completely sober and not aching anywhere and his mind clear, he would just… shrug at it. It was Newt’s business who he slept with or not, or who he let bite his nape like a dog (some young fucking idiot who thought hickeys are still sexy? Stupid shit).

Not Thomas’. Not anymore.

The more he tried to push it away from his mind, the more his mind pushed back, just pointing it out loudly every time he glanced towards the blond sitting on the couch in the living room, bundled in a fluffy blanket, fiddling with his phone.

He was fiddling with his phone a lot actually. Texting somebody?

The guy who left the mark?

Thomas felt the irrational anger seep into his consciousness again and he forced it back down with a frown. He knew asking Newt to help him to get his parents off his back wasn’t exactly a great idea (asking ex to be your bf again for a show just screamed trouble), but at the same time asking anybody else just felt… wrong.

Thomas had to admit he’d be able to go along with this only with Minho, probably. Because Minho was a born actor, he’d be able to breeze though this with ease and Thomas’ parents would like him for sure, because, well, everybody liked Minho, honestly.

Asking Teresa or Brenda was just… desperate. Because other than them it would be Newt and getting back together with Newt… well. Thomas could tell from the moment he saw him getting into his car in front of Newt’s workplace it was going to be tough for both of them.

Not much of a surprise so far climbing Mt. Everest would be easier than keeping his chaotic feelings under control.

“You need some fresh air,” his vision of Newt got obstructed by his mum in a frilly apron she wore unironically and he looked up to her with half-lidded eyes.

“I think I need chicken soup, actually,” he offered in response, because dragging himself through the snow outside now sounded like a death penalty.

“Air first,” she insisted, adamant, and turned towards Newt like an executioner. “Right, Newt? A walk would do him good.”

Newt looked at Thomas and Thomas just knew. He was doomed. Newt was going to betray him like Scar did with Mufasa and he’d enjoy it, he could see the glint in his eyes, just shining there, spelling revenge in big, neon letters.

Please, he mouthed at the blond in desperation and Newt tilted his head to the side and then his mouth curled up.

“Sure, that’s a great idea, Anna,” he signed the death certificate without an ounce of shame and relished in it.

Fuck you, Thomas mouthed again, and Newt sent him a condescending smile. Fuck him especially.

***

“You’re unusually quiet,” his mum casually pointed out like she didn’t just drag him out to cold ass weather while holding a knife (butter one, but that’s what made it scarier), despite his very vocal (or vocal sort of, too loud and his brain wanted out of his skull) protests.

“Hungover,” he reminded her bitterly. The snow under their feet crunched sharply and the noise was tearing his brain to pieces, like walking on a broken glass and he had no idea how much longer he’d be able to act like it wasn’t killing him.

“Well, it was nice of you to cover for him,” Anna shrugged like she didn’t just blew their cover with a killer one liner and Thomas probably shouldn’t have been as surprised. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him drink.”

“That’s cuz he can’t drink for shit,” he mumbled with a frown. “Did dad notice?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He was too busy boasting about the partnership. It’s been some time since I’ve seen him so happy, you know how he hoards the whiskey otherwise.”

“Yeah, cheapskate,” Thomas snorted, and the noise sliced his brain painfully, like an instant karma.

“Think he was happy about Newt being back too,” she hit the nail on the head a bit too close to home and Thomas hated how his stomach lurched at it. “Well, you know him.”

“Sure is happy for not getting any grandkids,” he just grumbled and Anna patted him on his back.

“We still have Hannah,” she reminded him sweetly. “Maybe one day she’ll feel like having kids and force you to babysit for her two times a week.”

“Me? You’re going to be the grandparents, it’s your obligation to babysit!” The idea of taking care of Hannah’s kids made him scared for life, and they didn’t even exist yet.

“Pretty sure Newt wouldn’t mind,” she chirped happily, and Thomas loathed how right she probably was. Newt never really showed any kind of real interest in having kids or anything, but he never minded babysit for his own sister, and generally all the kids liked him.

Not that thinking about that had any merit anyway, since they split up with a point of no return. Maybe Newt already planned kids with the new person who left the distasteful hickey on his nape, or the person who he kept texting, and the more Thomas thought about it, the more his chest burned.

“Cherish him a bit more, would you,” she poked his arm. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you have some beef between you. Had an argument before coming here?”

Why the fuck is she so perceptive?

“A bit,” he answered quietly. “No biggie.”

“Set things right,” she plainly ordered him like he was ten again and had do her bidding. “I don’t want another sad Christmas.”

There isn’t going to be any Christmas for us, he wanted to tell her, but kept his mouth shut. At this rate, there wasn’t going to be anything for them, at all.

I really need some sleep.

***

Not very often did the morning come so peacefully, like a gentle spring washing over tired soul, leaving it invigorated. Thomas basked in the pleasantness of it, a quiet, warm and relaxed moment where he slowly woke up from a dream into reality still welcoming and soft like he never left the fantasy realm.

He took a deep breath, stretching, slowly coming to realize of contours of another body pressed into him, and under his hands and around his legs and under his chin. The soft blond hair came to view when he opened his eyes, with Newt draped around him needily, and his heart melted.

The first night in their flat. Their home. A place that only belonged to them, these walls and floors, and small kitchen and big windows, for them together. It came true, finally, inevitably, for Thomas to have Newt all for himself, to share his mornings, his evenings, his life with him. Nothing else could make him happier.

“You already up?” came a sleepy rumble from Newt’s chest, the hands holding Thomas’ waist slowly moved up, to his back, pushing them even closer together.

“Just woke up,” Thomas kissed the top of the blond strands, his own hands traveling over Newt’s back, right onto his butt, kneading it.

“Mmmm.” Approving sound doubled his endeavour and then Newt was slowly grinding to him, lazily, his lips stretched in a smile, reaching to pamper Thomas’ neck with small kisses. “This sure is nice, huh.”

“Love it,” Thomas agreed with the sentiment while grabbing Newt’s thigh and hiking it up over his hip. The blond softly moaned at the contact and Thomas pushed more into it, completely awake and needy and allowed. There was nobody that could hear them, scold them or gasp in shock like a puritan at them making out – just them, two lovers in their home, free to make love any time they wanted.

And Thomas wanted too much.

***

He never stopped wanting.

He woke to his room bathing in shadows, with the blanket twisted between his legs, his headache still present, even though in weaker state than in the morning, and his body wasn’t any less sluggish. The walk with his mum didn’t help him much, just added to his misery with freezing cold and nagging reality he couldn’t play this game any longer, which made him feel empty and unhappy.

He didn’t feel this unhappy in a while, it usually only came back when he heard of Newt about a year after the breakup. Every time his ex came back to his life, even when somebody only mentioned him in a passing conversation, Thomas’ chest set off that painful pang in it, like a trigger just waiting to be pressed, and he fell back into hollow kind of depression.

He got rid of it, somehow. He built walls around himself, he locked all of his twisted personality traits and pushiness and hateful behaviour away, he spent years searching for more he could fix, for all that made Newt unhappy with him, what made him leave Thomas after seven years without really talking about it.

He thought he managed to become a better person. He believed he could change the way he acted. He hoped if he ever talked to Newt again, at any point of their lives, he would be at least able to show him he wasn’t that ungrateful, lousy boyfriend anymore, that they could at least be friends. Somehow. Just talk normally. Just… exist in the same room without… Newt making that anguished face, like it hurt him still.

Thomas tried. But failed. Maybe it was just recurring theme of his life – to touch something wonderful, to taste true happiness, just to fuck it all up and lose it.

Maybe he was just obsessive. Suffocating.

Maybe making mistakes were rooted too deep in him to get rid of.

Maybe… it was simply impossible.

***

Newt was playing games with Hannah in the living room when Thomas came back down. Hannah made fun of him for sleeping all day like an old guy and his mum said something about hoping he didn’t catch a cold and gave him a bowl of chicken soup.

The strange, unattached feeling stayed with him since he woke up, and only doubled when he saw Newt’s neck marked by some fucker on display. His stomach churned at the implication there was this unknown guy waiting for Newt to come back home, who kept impatiently sending him texts that made Newt frown and smile in turns, like he just slowly sunk back into the problem they never resolved. Thomas felt disgusted with himself, and angry, and, when it came to it, immensely tired.

“Oh, you have the whole week free?” his mum asked suddenly, breaking Thomas’ bubble of trying to eat the soup like a mental case of lobotomy, and he realized there had been a conversation going in meantime and he didn’t catch any of it. Newt wasn’t playing the game anymore, though Hannah still furiously pressed buttons on her controller, and instead of it sat on the couch, turned towards Thomas’ mum at the table.

“Yeah, thought getting out of the city might do me good,” he answered her with a soft smile and the idea of another week like this sent Thomas into desperate mode. Even though it was him who forced Newt to take whole week off, because… he only had bad ideas, obviously.

“But there’s bit of a rush now, right?” he entered the conversation impulsively and Newt glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “At work. Christmas and all that being close.”

“Yeah, it’s… a bit hectic,” the blond admitted, making Thomas’ mum go aww. “There’s lots of people taking vacations they didn’t spend yet, so we usually work crunch time.”

“Yeah, kind of same,” Thomas added. It wasn’t really a lie. But not the truth either. “And I know I said a week, but I’ve got some texts from work already, thought of going back tomorrow instead.”

Newt stared at him with an evident confusion, but Thomas knew at this rate they were going to crash and burn again if they stayed, and he didn’t want that. He couldn’t even trust himself to keep it civil when his blood boiled like in a bull taunted with red flag.

Except the red flag was an unknown nobody on the other side of the line of Newt’s phone.

And bed.

“Uh,” came from the blond. “No, wait. What? You…”

“We can visit again during Christmas,” Thomas offered a big fat lie, he almost bit his tongue at it. Christmas were a taboo, he knew mentioning it were already risky, but it gave him an out with his mum, so that worked at least. “When it’s calmer.”

“When is what calmer?” Newt still stared, Thomas said almost disbelieving, and he just prayed for him to play along and not act like he knew nothing about it.

“Work,” he answered stiffly. Too stiffly, he realized, since Newt’s eyes narrowed.

“Uh oh,” he heard Hannah interject, which meant he already failed in the mission to make this believable. Fuck.

“I need a smoke,” the blond announced instead of reacting and stood up sharply. Then shot Thomas a badly masked glare. “Keep me company?”

He wanted to say no but couldn’t when his whole family watched them like during tennis match. So he just nodded and followed Newt outside of the house while feeling like slapping himself.

***

“Care to explain or am I supposed to guess.”

The cigarette was lit, its fiery tip shone bright in the darkness of the porch once the automatic light shut itself because they weren’t moving like they rooted in the wooden floor. Newt was wearing his coat and Thomas only stood there in the long-sleeved shirt, which in retrospect was probably a mistake.

“I did explain,” Thomas said. “Just thought about work-,”

“No, you didn’t,” Newt stopped him immediately while crossing one of his arms on his chest while other held the cigarette like a weapon. “You said a week, so I took a week off. I’m not bloody leaving now. It’s my vacation.”

“I also said three days would probably be enough,” Thomas asserted. “And they are. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Why?” the blond demanded. “It’s not like I suffer here. I like this place. What’s your problem?”

That kind of question had no easy answer and Thomas held Newt’s eyes only for few seconds, before looking away.

“Am I the problem?” came another question, even sharper. “You just can’t stand me anymore, so you want to leave?”

“You know that’s bullshit,” Thomas scoffed. “Since when did I ever-,”

“No, I don’t know!” Newt interrupted him with raised voice and Thomas flinched. “I don’t bloody know anything about you anymore! You brought me here and expected what? War? Did you want us to fail?”

“Why would I want us to fail?” Thomas’ eyes widened in a shock. “What kind of fucked up logic would that be?!”

“I don’t know!” Newt barked. The cigarette he was holding was slowly fading away, the ash falling everywhere how he moved his hand. “But something’s up since this morning, so obviously you’re lying about work and I want to know why!”

Well, finding out his ex-boyfriend had a lover, or a sex friend or whatever the other person was definitely served as a wake-up call. Thomas couldn’t overlook it – he thought he’d be fine with anything, it had been years, but one fucking hickey and some fleeting texts and he just had the rising urge to tear the walls he built down and get angry and make Newt inevitably miserable, which he despised.

He fucking loathed it. And himself. And everything around him.

“Why did you even agree to come here?” he couldn’t help but demand. “Why did you even bother playing this stupid game when you have somebody home? You trying to make him jealous or it’s just your thing?”

Accusing – stupid Thomas, fucking idiot, just talk normally, what’s wrong with you – as always.

“What?” Newt’s eyes shot up, wide in honest surprise. His cheeks were red from the cold, or maybe embarrassment, Thomas didn’t know. “What are you talking about?”

“About that hickey on your neck?” Thomas pointed towards the incriminated spot and Newt’s whole body went rigid.

“A hickey…?” Newt’s free hand was touching the place now, his voice shocked. “You… ugh.”

“Look, it’s not my business, clearly,” Thomas rubbed his eyes tiredly, desperately trying to make an excuse for his own consciousness why he couldn’t look at Newt. “But obviously it’s causing you trouble with him, so. As I said. Three days are fine, we can leave now. Go back home. Forget about this.”

And forget about me trying to corner you, and me getting hard in the bed with you this morning, and me sounding jealous and lame, and me… just for being me.

“Are you fucking with me?” Newt’s voice sounded disbelieving. “Are you bloody serious right now? A hickey from some random guy appeared over night here? That’s what you’re saying?”

Overnight…?

“Overnight?” he asked a little dumbly, which forced him to look Newt in the eyes, where he saw hell unleashed. It made his throat squeeze almost hard enough to suffocate him.

“You think I just popped back home for a quickie, then back to your bed in the morning like a bloody Cinderella?” the blond seethed, the cigarette in his hand morphing into a protentional weapon of choice. “Where did that even came for, for fuck’s sake? You’d been seeing me for two days, never noticed anything, and then suddenly your Esmeralda syndrome got cured or what?”

“But-,”

“You bloody drunk fucker,” Newt took a step towards him and Thomas found himself hitting the entrance door with his back, when he automatically tried to back out. “Should have known your bird brain won’t remember anything.”

The realization hit Thomas like tons of bricks right in his face, able to cause heavy concussion if it were real.

“I did this?!”

“No, the bloody sucker behind you, who the fuck do you think?!” Newt’s voice was harsh, but Thomas could only hear the bare fact he made a hickey of size of Texas on his ex-boyfriend’s nape while spending the next day being jealous… of himself.

“What the fuck,” he breathed out with an ugly relief flooding his veins, which was all sorts of wrong. Being relieved over attacking his ex at night definitely did not count as a good point in anybody’s book. “What the fuck.”

“Calmer now?” Newt sighed in exasperation and Thomas couldn’t say he was. It just opened door to another set of bad he had to deal with.

“I attacked you when drunk?” he asked quietly, and Newt blinked in surprise.

“Attacked?” he repeated and then barked out a laugh. “No, you really didn’t. You were drunk out of your mind, for fuck’s sake.”

“I see.”

“Didn’t think it left anything,” the blond sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if in memory, which was kind of hot – no Thomas, it was not hot, but embarrassing, shut up -. “I mean you just munched on me a little, then fell back asleep. No harm done.”

“You made a fuss about us sleeping in one bed but it’s no biggie when I leave a hickey?” Thomas couldn’t help but laugh a little and Newt’s face showed signs of hesitation.

“Look…” he tried after a moment, the cigarette in his hand nearly gone. “I… don’t know, you were just sleeping while holding me, it doesn’t mean anything-,”

“And that’s fine with you?” It was Thomas’ turn to interrupt him, and Newt looked a little lost for a moment.

“I suppose that’s fine with me, yeah,” he admitted slowly.

Thomas looked at his shoes, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t deny the knot forming in his belly over the day already started easing off, for purely selfish reasons he had, but at the same time his head became even a bigger mess than before.

“So what does it mean?” he asked after a while. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, I thought… you’d rather leave than stay with me longer, after today, but…”

“I want to stay,” Newt answered immediately. “Unless you really don’t want me here. Then no, of course. I had the same problem the first day, feeling all kinds of weird and jumpy. I guess I just sort of dealt with it. Stepped out of my comfort zone and all that.”

“Sorry you had to.”

It wasn’t like Thomas wanted Newt to change anyhow by doing this favour for him. But he’d also be a hypocrite if he didn’t admit he wished Newt to feel good here. With him. Selfishly, hopelessly. Like before, like they were okay. Like they still… liked each other. At least a little.

He knew that kind of hope was self-destructive and harmful, but he didn’t stop loving this man three years ago, after going through an immensely rough patch, so he wouldn’t stop loving him now for no reason either.

“No need to be sorry,” Newt interrupted his thoughts with much softer tone than Thomas expected. “I mean even despite it’s you, you didn’t really do anything bad yet.”

“Wow,” Thomas snorted. “Way to ruin the mood, boyfriend.”

“I try,” Newt grinned, and it seemed like the tense mood dissipated and they both relaxed enough to breathe easier. Thomas possibly wouldn’t even notice he had been so strung up until now, if the huge boulder of irrational fear of fucking up didn’t fall off his shoulders with a bang.

“And just for the record,” Newt added while finally inhaling the last puff from the already burned-out cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “I noticed you digging into me in the morning.”

“Of course you did…” Thomas banged the back of his head against door in utter shame. “Because universe hates me, and you had to fucking wake up.”

“Yeah, well,” Newt let out a small shrug. “I got hard at night, if it makes you feel any better. Let’s call it even.”

“What.”

“Had a real nice dream,” the blond casually announced like he was ordering pie with no filling and Thomas was a stupefied cashier at Costa Cafe. “Woke up with you being handsy with me. Tried to scramble away, cue for you to make the hickey and fall back asleep.”

“Uh.”

“1:1, right?” The sly smile Newt’s mouth produced did things to Thomas’ underbelly and before he even caught himself, he automatically reached out and grabbed Newt’s side.

Fuck.

“Pretty lousy score,” he just said – bad Thomas, stop making a pass at your ex -, “That’s no match whatsoever.”

Newt glanced at his hand resting on his waist and then back to Thomas with a thoughtful hum.

“I’m not that good at sports,” he just said, looking back into Thomas’ eyes. “But you might be onto something.”

Thomas took a deep breath and risked the second hand grabbing other side of Newt’s waist, pulling him closer. The layers of clothing made him dissatisfied, no matter how cold it was and how his skin already felt like ice, he just wanted to get under the coat and the sweater and the shirt and make Newt react somehow. The blond just silently watched him, let him do whatever he wanted, and somehow it felt like a test and Thomas was scared of failing it.

“That’s it?” Newt broke the tense silence around them when Thomas just stood there, holding him.

“Thinking,” the brunet mumbled with a frown.

“About?”

“How to touch you without it being classified as groping,” he moved his hands a little lower as an experiment, getting no reaction. “Since it’s off the table.”

“Pfff.”

He hesitated, then gingerly let go of one side and reached for the zipper lodged under Newt’s chin, keeping the coat closed like a fortress. His hand barely cooperated with how frozen it was, but Newt still didn’t stop him and that encouraged him unfairly.

“Newt.”

“Yeah?” the blond’s voice was quiet and close to his face.

“What’s with all the texting?” He kept holding the zippier between his fingers like he couldn’t decide, and Newt made a soft huh? noise in the back of his throat.

“You were on your phone the whole day,” Thomas lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Is there somebody…?”

A sigh. Thomas let go of the zipper.

“That’s Alby,” came a reply and if Thomas wasn’t already propped against the door, he’d take a step back. There was nowhere to run now, so he just let go of the blond completely, nodding.

“He’s my partner,” another string of words Thomas comprehended but wished he didn’t. “A bit demanding one.”

“Sounds like it,” he just commented, staring at his feet until Newt’s shoes came into view as well when he stepped closer.

Seriously testing me. That’s-

“A bit cruel,” he breathed out with a puff of white smoke and Newt pushed further and pressed his mouth against Thomas’. His cold lips lingered for a moment before parting, their breaths mingling, and Thomas’ heart fought really hard to get out of his chest and run away. The proximity was non-existent, Newt stood so close their chests were touching, and his eyes were so dark, and pupils blown wide Thomas got easily lost in them.

He always did. Nothing had changed.

“You look cold,” Newt whispered to his lips, hovering so close their mouths gently touched when they took a breath.

“Freezing,” Thomas answered in daze, holding back only by a miracle. He wanted to reach out and pull the blond man flush against him, to grind into him, to kiss him so deep his toes would curl, and he’d buck up, he just wanted so much it made him suffer.

“Alby’s my colleague,” Newt dropped quietly. “Funnily… you weren’t wrong about work being in a rush now. He’s struggling a little. Wanted to know my opinion.”

A colleague. And nothing else?

“Nothing else,” Newt answered like he could read his mind and then sagged against Thomas’ body like the energy just left him, resting his head on Thomas’ shoulder.

“I thought I can handle being this close to you,” he heard him mumbling into his shirt. “But the more I am, the less I can fight it.”

“I thought I can handle you dating somebody else,” Thomas added to it while letting his head fall back against the door with a dull thud. “But obviously not. It’s scary. I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

“Yeah,” Newt agreed with him. “Me neither.”

He wasn’t sure if this had been some sort of consensus they reached, or just a fling that happened because they were both lonely, but Thomas didn’t want to let go – even though he should have, logically, to protect them both. The pain they caused to each other three years ago was still there and festering under their skins, but the more Newt was pressed into him, breathing softly, the more Thomas noticed his reason slowly creeped away, like a thief in the night disappearing with loot.

But he wanted. For fuck’s sake how he wanted to just hold him close and promise him love and eternal happiness, and the scary part was he couldn’t promise shit. His love was real, but not unconditional, happiness was fleeting and simply relying on both of them and the rest of the world deciding whatever to fuck them up or not.

But…

“I give up,” he mumbled, weary to the bone. At Newt’s soft hm? he just sighed. “It’s fucking cold.”

The blond barked out a laugh, but nodded and let go of him, immediately taking all the warmth away.

“Then shall we assure them we’re not breaking up again?” he nodded towards the door and without waiting for Thomas’ reply he already reached for the handle. “Or not leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” the brunet conceded. “Hannah’s going to be milking this for the rest of the week…”

“Serves you right,” Newt laughed quietly while opening the door and Thomas kept the answer to himself.

We’re not breaking up again rang in his head like a bell, deafening his reason even further. Newt didn’t protest when he reached for his hand on their way inside, and he wondered if his heart was ready for another trial.

He ignored the uncertainty and took a leap of faith.

#newtmas #tmr #the last resort series #the maze runner #izzymultifan #edit 17. 5. 2021

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detectivehole · 3 years

Note

besides all the glitches and bugs, are the games any fun? are the stories any good if they are non canon stories? are the voices and designs good?

this should be a basic question, but its actually weirdly not when considering frogwares games (i should state i havent played all of them ftr so take this all with a grain of salt)

first off, you really cant forget the bugs and glitches- they can make the games either so frustrating that it doesnt matter if the rest of it is good, or they can make them legitimately unplayable. however, there is apparently a patch (released YEARS late! but whatever!) on the way to make the older games fully compatible with modern pcs! so, lets pretend you can actually ignore the errors;

the stories are... good. just good, i think- maybe pretty good sometimes- and certainly entertaining, which is all they need to be for a video game. they range from original to highly canon-influenced, depending on the game. (ive been avoiding one of them for its story but thats just because ive got Opinions on part of it)

cosmetically, like character, set, and voice design, it really depends what youre playing. the older games have very generic character and set design, and the voice work is completely understandable, but charmingly bad; like its kinda shit, but in a tolerable and funny way, and after a while you just get used to it and hardly notice. newer games have va work that's just completely unremarkable, if not a little awkward- you really wont take note of it, likely, which isn't a bad thing. newer game’s set design is actually very nice, i think, all things considered. not super remarkable but not at all bad to look at- they can even be beautiful, from time to time. character design in crime and punishment was good actually- it felt like hd versions of the older games, and that was just fine- however, it seems that after that things have/are going down hill, eh? not sure what the hell is up with devils daughter and... “sherry” and “jon,” but... technically thats all superficial. theyre not bad to look at after all, just... well.

in terms of game design quality (mechanics, options. blah blah), i really cant describe it. i think from the most general view, usually its fine, if not plain good; game’s puzzles and mysteries are not too hard imo, but also not uninteresting or downright simple (well, some are, but “some” is not a crime). exploration is functional and mostly interesting, and for the most part you are given clear direction when playing, so time wasting is minimal. certain mechanics (which are not present in all games, but showed up slowly as the studio seemed to be figuring out what exactly they could do) like deductions can and conclusions can be a lot of fun. i think if youre looking for something stellar you should curb your enthusiasm, but if you just want simple fun some of these game will actually really suck you in- i played crime and punishment for... some hours straight. specifics not necessary, just know it held my attention.

other aspects are just lazy; many of the games lack many otherwise standard game and setting manipulation options, like any video manipulation for some, difficult settings, etc. all do let you manipulate volume, though, and captions are always on (you also have a dialogue log to reference), so at least there's that. additionally, for some puzzles, for some of the games, they dont offer any instructions of any kind- i assume this is to pad difficulty curves, and to an extent you could argue that “well, real life wouldn't have instructions,” but its not real life. its a game. they should have added at least a toggleable blurb. theres other issues with the game’s construction at times, but honestly i cant think of them off the top of my head with any coherence. i dont leave much weight to steam reviews, but i think if you want a better understanding of whats wrong with some of these games id read the reviews or the discussion pages. overall, the default settings and the construction of the game should be playable for most people and on most machines- they're not particularly demanding or visually/auditorily complex games, and the puzzles are not too hard to figure out, even without instructions. (WARNING: there IS a glitch in crime and punishment that can effect some people that makes lighting fuck up on many objects, and it may not be friendly to more photosensitive people, though it also doesn't seem like something that would be downright dangerous, and as someone without any photosensitive issues i was not bothered by it.)

lastly, some of the games are dated, or jokes are in poor taste, or they present something or some attitude historically accurate, and their content shows this. it is not common or consuming, and you should be able to move past it with just a bitter taste in your mouth and nothing more, but its worth it to mention. its nothing someone used to consuming retro or janky media would be unfamiliar with, but i certainly didn't enjoy it- i cant imagine anyone sane would.

i am full of complaints. i have written goddamn dissertations to my long suffering friends. BUT..... i have had a lot of fun, honestly. ive got the patience to deal with the glitches, and the disposition to reap simple fun out of broken and awkward content, simple puzzles, and the story lines presented to me, however silly they may or may not be. i would recommend it, personally.

#mine #ask #frogwares

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

be unbroken or be brave again (2)

warnings: misunderstandings, technical kidnapping, roman’s overactive imagination, dehumanization, tragic backstories, past minor character death

chapter 1 here!

Prince Roman of Faerin woke up with his hands tied down to a couch and a bitching headache. One of these things was considerably more concerning than the other.

He dragged himself into consciousness bit by bit, trying to figure out exactly what had happened, and then jerked up when his memory finally deigned to remind him that he’d been hit over the head with a rock.

Seeing as he was tied to a couch with what felt like a truly grievous head wound, he got about three inches up before collapsing back to the soft cushions in agony. There was a resigned sigh nearby.

“Up again, Princey?” a concerningly familiar voice asked. Roman craned his neck up again, headache be damned, and was rewarded with the deeply upsetting sight of the dragonwitch he’d been hunting for months sitting on the back of an armchair five feet away.

Despite his casual greeting, the dragonwitch-- his name had started with a ‘V’ but Roman felt a bit too concussed to recall properly-- seemed surprised when Roman actually met his mismatched eyes. Not as surprised as Roman was to still be alive, but surprised nonetheless.

“Oh,” the beast said, and then turned his body slightly to face an adjacent door, his balance shifting slightly where he was perched. “Hey, Pat, the fresh meat is awake. For real this time.”

Roman abruptly felt all the blood drain from his face, realizing exactly why he’d been kept alive. The other human was still alive too, meaning that he was in on this sick and twisted plot. To think, he’d been fooled by those crocodile tears, that vulnerable disposition! Their acting skills were refined; how many innocents had they captured with such trickery?

“Coming!” There were a few clatters from the other room, and then the person in question poked his head out from the doorway. Pat brightened at the sight of him, which made sense because they obviously wanted their victim alive and kicking for whatever torment was in store before…

Roman’s eyes flicked back over to the dragonwitch, who was watching him keenly, and shuddered. Patton stepped into the room proper, wiping his hands off with a patterned dish towel. “Hey there, kiddo! Try to move slowly, your head isn’t fully healed yet.”

Roman grunted a vague refusal and twisted his wrists around a few times, hoping to find some give in the knots tied round his arms. He believed he was being rather discreet about it, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when Pat hurried over to his side. Perhaps he was more injured than he’d thought. He flinched back, waiting for the restraints to be tightened or some punishment to be delivered for his disobedience.

“Oh, I’m sorry about those,” the voice was dripping with remorse, nimble fingers pulling at the knots until they unravelled entirely. Huh? “You’ve got a bad habit of sleep-walking, and sleep-talking, and sleep-other-things, especially with your concussion, so we had to keep you in place somehow. Otherwise you’d keep running into things, and then you’d never heal!”

Roman snatched his hands back to himself and immediately scuttled backwards to the other side of the couch once he was freed, ignoring the way his head throbbed painfully. He looked up to find the dragonwitch hovering over Pat’s shoulder with narrowed eyes. Roman scowled right back, his hand dropping to the hilt of his knife— and meeting only air.

He cursed internally. Of course they wouldn’t have left him armed. They were clearly well-practiced at abducting unwilling captives.

“Looking for this, Princey?” the beast asked, and held up his hand, the dull edge of the blade tucked between two fingers. He flipped it into the air and caught it with a casual gesture, and Roman couldn’t help but clench his fists. If the dagger broke from such careless handling…

“Give it back,” he demanded, his voice coming out rough and crackly.

“Hmm, yeah, no.” The dragonwitch slouched against the nearby wall and began to balance the tip of the blade on his claw. “It’s confiscated until you learn how to play nice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot with rage, but was interrupted by Pat bustling over into his space, pressing a cool glass of water into his hand. “Here, you must be parched after all that sleeping!”

He stared at the cup for a long moment, and then immediately tossed its contents directly into Pat’s face, soaking him.

“I’m not taking anything from you, you evil, despicable traitor!” He threw the glass at Pat’s head for good measure, incensed.

The dragonwitch appeared at their side like he’d teleported, the glass thunking into his hand like a ball to a mitt. “Hey,” he growled, expression thunderous.

Before he could really start tearing into Roman, metaphorically or literally, a hand patted at his side gently.

“It’s okay, Virgil. I won’t pretend that didn’t hurt my feelings, but we did kinda sorta technically kidnap him.” Pat pulled his glasses off, flicking them a couple times to try and get rid of the worst of the water.

Once they were settled back on his face, he offered Roman another one of those earnest smiles. He looked like a soggy puppy, which shouldn’t be allowed considering he was abducting people to feed to a monster.

“Let’s try this again,” he offered, extending a hand. “Hi! My name is Patton, and this is Virgil!”

The dragonwitch looked like he was going to shatter the glass in his hand and use the glass pieces to filet him like a fish. Roman gave him his best sneer. “We’ve met.”

“I think I liked you better when you were half-dead,” the beast muttered. Roman sneered harder.

Patton continued to blink at him for a long moment, presumably waiting for him to introduce himself. Roman crossed his arms defiantly until the man retracted his hand.

“Well, how are you feeling?” he asked, undeterred. Roman snorted derisively, trying to keep the hopelessness of the situation from overwhelming him.

“I’ve been abducted by a maniac who feeds his own kind to monsters, how do you think I feel?” he snapped, glancing at the windows. There was no way he’d make it before the dragonwitch pounced, but it was better than not trying to escape at all.

“I— what?” Patton asked, mouth agape. Behind him, the beast’s face wrinkled in displeasure, probably from Roman having the gall to call him out. He tilted his chin up in challenge stubbornly.

In the next moment, Patton giggled, slapping a hand over his mouth when they both turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, it’s just— what are you talking about, silly? Virgil isn’t going to eat you!”

He cast a dubious glare at the dragonwitch in question, who rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a sharp-toothed, not-very-friendly smile, “I don’t like the taste of arrogant princes.”

“Virgil! Not helping!” Patton swatted at him, shaking his head wryly, and the monster ducked away with a slight twist of his lips. Roman watched with wary eyes, unable to believe it when the dragonwitch didn’t even bother to retaliate at the jab to his authority. Before, too, he’d subsided at Patton’s word despite being quite clearly furious.

He slowly leaned back against the couch, mind racing. It looked like he had misinterpreted the situation.

Clearly, Patton had to be a powerful evil mage to have enchanted a dragonwitch into this all-encompassing subservience with so little strain.

His manipulations went deep enough to even have the beast fooled into thinking they were friends, had him willing to die for the mage. He shuddered to imagine what the mage would do with a prince of Faerin as a puppet.

That had to be avoided at all costs, Roman decided as he reluctantly allowed the evil mage in question to press another glass of probably-drugged water into his hand. He had to be more subtle about his rebellion, and he needed an ally.

His gaze slid over to where the dragonwitch was in the process of perching on a windowsill much too small to serve as a proper seat. He was loathe to work with a monster, but… the enemy of his enemy was his friend, right? Or at the very least, if he could appeal to the beast’s desire for freedom, a potential distraction.

The next time Patton ducked back into the kitchen, he made direct eye contact with the dragonwitch and tipped the contents of his glass into a nearby houseplant. The beast snorted and rolled his eyes rudely, but made no move to stop him or tell Patton about his deceit. Roman let his lips curl up slightly.

This just might work.

The problem with trying to get through the dragonwitch’s brainwashing was that it required the dragonwitch to be alone with him long enough to actually have a conversation.

Patton was always just around the corner, popping in on him, offering him food or books or other gifts like some sort of over-exuberant fae. Checking to make sure that he was still properly captive in the guise of fussing over his injuries, and all the while the dragonwitch lounged on some surface that wasn’t meant to be sat on, frustratingly out of range.

In fact, the dragonwitch was only near him when he was escorting Roman to the bathroom, and he had exactly zero tolerance for any stalling tactics Roman tried. He’d picked up on the attachment Roman had to the dagger, and obviously wasn’t above using that to blackmail him into behaving.

For days, he seethed under their constant surveillance, always bracing for the first signs of magic brainwashing to appear in him. It seemed as though Patton was perfectly content to enchant him at the mage’s own convenience, so he was simply left to wait in painful anticipation.

His chance finally arrived early one morning when he woke to the sight of the dragonwitch sprawled across an armchair and the conspicuous absence of any noise from the kitchen. His eyes flicked between the beast and the doorway, wondering if this was his opportunity. The dragonwitch ignored his clear confusion, so he cleared his throat primly.

“Where is Patton?” he asked shortly.

The dragonwitch didn’t acknowledge him for a long moment, yawning leisurely and displaying vicious fangs. Then,

“Pat’s out cutting wood.”

A surge of excitement passed through him, clearing away any lingering sleepiness, and he sat up fully. He’d had more than enough time to consider how he would approach the subject. The first step to breaking a mage’s control was to force the creature to confront the fact that it was being controlled.

“You know, whatever you want from me, you won’t get it,” he said without any preamble, putting on his best scowl. “You should just kill me already, put the both of us out of our misery. I’m sure a malignant monster like you is sick and tired of playing nursemaid to a dragon slayer.”

He looked the dragonwitch up and down derisively for good measure, internally cheering at the way a muscle in his cheek jumped with irritation. Naturally, the creature would have killed and/or devoured him by now if not for the mage’s bidding, so making him wonder why exactly he wasn’t doing that would aid Roman’s quest greatly.

“Nice try,” the dragonwitch said, idly inspecting his claws, “but no, we’re not killing you. We’ll figure out what to do with you eventually, but till then you’re stuck with us.”

Roman pretended that there wasn’t a shiver running down his spine at the words, instead forcing his expression into a twisted sort of pity. “Patton will figure out what to do with me eventually, you mean.”

The beast raised an eyebrow. “No, I mean both of us. Pat can be awful soft sometimes. If it were up to him, he’d have you here forever, I’m sure. Be glad I’m here to remind him that you’re still a stubborn Faerin asshole.”

Roman forced back the surge of mixed nausea and fury, instead shaking his head despairingly. “Do you truly not see the truth? You foolish creature, that mage is clearly controlling you.”

Those mismatched eyes stared at him for a long moment, slit pupils uncannily inhuman, and Roman felt the back of his neck prickle with sweat. After a moment, though, his head dropped forward, obscuring his expression as his shoulders began to shake.

Roman leaned back, anticipating some kind of blow up. Had he done it? Was the creature awakened?

“Y-- You think,” The dragonwitch started weakly, finally lifting his head. Roman gaped at the sight of his face, watching him wipe away mirth-filled tears.

“You’re LAUGHING?”

“You think-- ha, oh my god-- you think Patton is a mage?” the dragonwitch continued, barely able to get the words out between stuttered, gasping laughter. “You think he’s the-- ha ha, secret mastermind behind all of this?”

His voice was mocking, and Roman flushed against his will. “Obviously! It’s-- it’s the only explanation!”

The dragonwitch only laughed harder.

“Why else would you not be trying to kill me right now?!” Roman demanded, frazzled and thrown off-script. Like a flip had been switched, the laughter finally stopped short.

The beast’s amusement dropped away, face shuttering back to that neutral displeasure. His body had gone tense, and Roman couldn’t help but shy back slightly, anticipating an attack at any moment.

The silence was shattered by the front door swinging open, Patton stepping inside with an armful of freshly chopped wood. The dragonwitch rose sharply, turning on his heel and storming out the door with a curt, “Your turn on babysitting duty,” thrown over his shoulder. The door slammed behind him.

Patton immediately turned and leveled a disappointed look at Roman, who tried not to wilt. He was a grown adult, damn it! He was not going to cave to the discouraging gaze of his kidnapper!

“What did you say to him?” Patton asked sternly as he carried the firewood over to the dwindling stack by the fireplace. Roman pointedly did not sulk.

“I asked a perfectly reasonable question,” he said snippily, turning his nose up for effect.

“Which was…?”

Even if Patton really wasn’t a mage, his disheartened-parent voice was bafflingly accurate.

“... I simply wished to know why he hadn’t taken the opportunity to kill me. Assuming you aren’t some kind of puppeteer-- which I’m am still undecided on, by the way-- there’s no reason he shouldn't take my life for threatening him. You aren’t strong enough to stop him, and my unconscious body certainly couldn’t.”

Patton sighed, shoulders slumping as he walked over to sit in the rocking chair next to Roman’s couch jail. His face looked deeply weary for a moment, making him seem much older. He began to draw nonsensical lines on his palm with one hand.

“Roman, let me tell you a story,” he started, and despite himself, Roman leaned in to listen. He’d always been a sucker for traveler tales. “It’s about a boy who was part of a big, loving family, living a joyful life in a little town named Port Greyson.”

The name hit him like a pommel to the gut. He stiffened abruptly, eyes wide. “Who told you this story?” he demanded, voice wavering slightly.

If Virgil had been the one to torch his home, to kill his best friend, there would be no forgiveness. He would strike the beast down or die trying.

Patton’s eyes flicked up at his tone, but he didn’t answer, still tracing patterns on himself.

“The boy’s name was Patton.” Patton continued, voice carefully measured, and what? There had been other survivors?

“He was happy until the day the calamity fell, and his family was killed before his eyes, trying to protect him.” Roman closed his mouth with an audible click. “He ran and ran and ran but the fires spread so fast, and he was sure he’d die and his family’s sacrifice would be in vain.

“And then… an angel.” Patton said, a sad smile on his lips. “Barreling through the flames as though they couldn’t even touch him, eyes wild, searching for someone to save. And I was that someone.”

Roman started to get an idea of where this was going. “A dragonwitch. Your dragonwitch.”

“My best friend,” Patton confirmed, folding his hands over each other. “He’s all the family I have left, at this point.”

“He-- He was there?” Roman asked, a thousand conflicting thoughts piling up in his head. “How do you know-- What if he was the one who set it all aflame in the first place?”

To his surprise, Patton didn’t glare at him for the implication. He seemed oddly far away. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen him, that day. He got me out and tried to run right back in, even though his face was covered in ash and his skin was peeling and burning. He stayed in human form the whole time, no doubt because he knew any survivors would be terrified of an approaching dragonwitch, no matter what his intentions were.” He visibly forced his mind back to the present.

“Even so, I know for absolute sure that it wasn’t him because I saw the one who did it.”

Roman’s whole body tensed up, all of his attention on Patton. This was the moment where he would figure out if the man was a simple monster sympathizer, lying about everything… or a genuine survivor of the worst day of Roman’s life. “Tell me.”

“It was a dragon,” Patton recalled, and his hands finally stilled. “A huge one, black as night, that shook the ground like an earthquake when it landed. It took my family too long to understand what was going on, but by the time we figured it out, our house was already beginning to collapse, the air around us hot enough to burn. I-“

His mouth trembled for a moment, but he pushed on, words stilted. “I was barely thirteen years, the baby of the family. My parents and my older siblings carried me through the forge-hot fires, and I was passed from hand to hand until there was no one left to hold me. The dragon-- I could hear it call out nearby the entire time, cries unearthly—“

“— and full of rage,” Roman finished, echoes of the sound ringing in his ears. “I hear it in my nightmares.”

“You were there?” Patton asked, a new understanding lighting in his eyes. Roman nodded, slowly.

“I was. On the… the outskirts. But I didn’t see the beast until it fled, and it looked— small. Adolescent. You’re certain—?”

“It might be that I misremembered it’s size, since I was smaller then, but I’m sure it wasn’t Virgil,” Patton cut him off sternly, before softening slightly. “Super extra sure since now I’ve seen his dragon form! He’s all purple.”

The half-form had had wings and a tail that were much the same, Roman knew. He paused. “Wait, he was in his true form? When did you see that?”

Dragonwitches took that form to destroy, to burn towns and people alike to the ground. Why had Virgil taken it? What had he done while Roman was unconscious?

“When we were flying you back here, of course! He’s so cute, you wouldn’t believe it!” Patton gushed, flapping his hands. Roman’s panicked thoughts ground to an abrupt halt at the idea of being carried by a dragon.

“And he didn’t drop me?” he muttered unthinkingly, shivering at the idea of waking up to the landscape far, far below.

A light smack on his arm made him jolt, and he looked up to meet Patton’s scolding expression. “That’s why he left, y’know. You treat him like a ticking time bomb instead of a person.”

“Because he’s not a person! He’s a dragonwitch!” Roman blurted, his hands coming up to clutch at his hair in frustration. “Dragonwitches are evil, their powers are corrupting and they terrorize and pillage and kill innocent people! Every last one! You should know this!” You witnessed it yourself, he doesn’t say.

Patton looked at him with blatant pity, slowly reaching out and tugging lightly on his wrists until he stopped pulling at his hair. “You and I are living proof that that’s not true,” he said, voice quiet but resolved. Roman shook his head, not even sure what he was disagreeing with at this point. “I can’t change your mind for you, Roman.

“I know what it’s like to lose important people and want to hurt those you deem responsible. But Virgil has been hunted by humans his whole life, and he still cares for me to the point of self-destruction. He still looked after you when you were suffering the effects of your injury.”

“He— what?” Roman thought about the cool hands on his head, the gentle murmured reassurances when he whined, and his cheeks flared up with embarrassment. “I thought that was you.”

“You spent a lot of time lashing out at anyone who woke you,” Patton explained easily. “Virgil wouldn’t let me near. He did a good job looking after you, though.”

A soothing hum as he mumbled half-formed thoughts, a hand gripping his as he cried out at the memories playing out in his dreams. Virgil’s words from before rang in his head. “I think I liked you better when you were half-dead.”

“Well,” Roman said, thoroughly nonplussed. “That’s… embarrassing.”

“Just a little bit,” Patton agreed with a grin, patting the back of his hand. He hummed thoughtfully. “How about this: I’ll make you a deal! The non-magic kind.” He winked teasingly, and some of the color returned to Roman’s cheeks.

“I’m beginning to get the feeling I will never live that assumption down,” he grumped. “... What kind of deal?”

“Virgil told me he thought you were a skinseller, because you were looking for a specific scale color.” Patton nodded at Roman’s expression of disgust at the idea. “I thought there was probably something different going on, and I’ve got a fair idea now, I think. So, I’ll offer this!

“We know a wizard who does business with dragonwitches. If our dragon has been active anywhere in that area, they’ll have gone to get information or materials from the wizard.” Roman felt a thrum of anticipation in his chest. This was the most concrete lead he’d gotten in ages.

“We’ll take you there, on one condition,” Patton said, holding up one finger. “I want you to reconsider what you’ve been told about dragonwitches, and give Virgil a chance.”

“That’s technically two things,” Roman pointed out, just to be difficult. Patton raised both eyebrows at him. “But, yeah, I… I can do that.

“It’s a deal.”

#sanders sides #dragonwitch au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #writing #my writing #buobba #be unbroken or be brave again #gosh this took forever to format

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Dash & Lux

Dash: ☀️🧙🏽‍♀️🎶🥁🎸🪕🧚🏿‍♂️🌿🌼🧚🔮💃💫🔥🕺🏻🌳💗🍯🍻

Lux: That is almost exactly what the inside of my head looks like right now!!!

Lux: Is mind-reading a power that is bestowed upon you believers this eve?! 🤔😲

Dash: Right on

Dash: it’s one of many, trust

Lux: I’m ever sadder I can only be an observer now

Lux: Telepathy would be the most useful!

Dash: you gotta open your 👀 at least twice

Lux: I can 👀 at it, all of it in its splendour, just not participate

Dash: Bummer! What’s got you backing off? You don’t look like no wallflower chick to me

Lux: I got the dress code 🌻🌻🌻

Lux: Sunflowers are so strong-looking for flowers, don’t you think?

Lux: Not dainty and delicate

Lux: Well, I’m a Christian and technically this is a Pagan ritual so it’s a big 🚫🚫

Lux: I am finding it super interesting though

Dash: they don’t look strong, they are, babe 🌻🌻🌻 cleaned up Chernobyl, it’s far out what they can do

Dash: its roots, yeah, but we’re not all pagans here & we all still find something to celebrate, you could do St John the Baptist’s birthday as a christian, bonfires were big for that too

Lux: Whaaaaaaaaaat????! TELL ME MORE

Dash: about 🌻🌻🌻 or 🎂🔥🎇🎆?

Lux: 🌻🌻🌻 birthdays are contentious too

Dash: Helianthus annuus, from the Greek helios, meaning ☀️ they can remove poisonous chemicals & metals from the ground, water or air

Dash: they spread rapidly & can stabilize if not totally clear a field in 3 years, it’s 🤯

Lux: I wish I’d gone to school

Lux: Do you know any more fascinating things?

Lux: That sounds like magic

Dash: the world’s full of magic, but it wasn’t school that taught me to recognize it

Lux: Share the secret, kind sir

Dash: you’ve got the 🔑 & this here’s your kingdom, all you have to do is hang out & stay hip to what you 👀👂👃👅

Dash: 🧠➡️⬅️⬆️⬇️↗️↘️↙️↖️↪️↩️⤴️⤵️

Lux: I’ve 👅 so many wondrous tastes today

Lux: I feel full in so many senses of the word

Lux: How long have you been a member of the kingdom, stranger?

Dash: quest accepted to lay that feeling on you in every sense, then it’ll be a rad celebration

Dash: I’ve been here since I could walk, everywhere else is too big a drag to keep me

Lux: Oh, that’s so kind!

Lux: Everyone is so open and willing to teach me things

Lux: For instance, quick, when’s your birthday, wolf boy

Dash: it’s that kinda space 🦊

Dash: 20th of January 🎂 got me on the cusp ♑♒

Lux: Twins!

Lux: My birthday, which I’ve never celebrated before, is the 20th of March 😱

Lux: Someone, I’m not sure who, was just telling me about the Celtic tree signs

Lux: ‘If you were born in the month of the birch, you probably have a fresh and unusual outlook on life. People born under this Celtic tree astrology sign tend to be highly driven and are always full of zeal and ambition. They always want more and try to reach new horizons and expand their knowledge. Some of the characteristics attributed to the Birch sign are tolerance, toughness, and leadership. The Birch signs can brighten a room with their smile and quickly charm other people’

Lux: Yay or nay 🐺

Dash: you charmed so far or nah? [obviously smiling at her wherever she is as well like heyyy]

Lux: [definition of this emoji 🤭]

Dash: What’s your celtic tree sign?

Lux: ‘Those born under the Alder sign are natural pathfinders. They have the ability to move people and quickly gain followers to their cause. The Alders have a way with words, mingle easily and people love to be around them. They possess a mystic charisma, confidence and strong self-faith. Other character traits are: a good focus on goals and ideas, can’t tolerate fluff and waste.’

Lux: I am unsure but flattered 😊😊😊

Dash: I dig it

Dash: they let you know if we’re compatible? Your ♓♈ cusp makes you mad desirable to all signs

Lux: You need to see who here was born 15th April to 12th May or 2nd September to 29th September

Lux: But it says I’m compatible with you, so how does that work?! 😣

Lux: There’s so much I have to get my head ‘round

Dash: You’re gonna be 🥰💖 for me while I’m 🔍 for a 🐈 or 🐤 born on those dates?

Lux: Hey, that’s way less nice!

Lux: but I can also be looking for people born 13th May to 9th June AND 10th June to 7th July so 😋

Dash: those signs are full of it, trying to make me look uncool but don’t sweat it, I’d never cut you that low, like

Lux: If it’s not in the 💫s I can still say I’m pleased to meet you today as friends, Mowgli

Dash: Look up

Dash: if you don’t see a 🌠 I can show you a 🐺🌟 & 🦊🌟 chasing each other across the sky

Lux: [obviously literally does]

Lux: That’s very Disney 🏰✨

Dash: is that allowed?

Lux: I watched some at a friend’s house one time

Dash: & how was it?

Lux: 😭 but romantic

Dash: Anyone told you the oak king story yet?

Lux: Okay, thank Goodness

Lux: this lady with the dreads and the big back tattoo tried to tell me but I couldn’t understand her 🙊

Lux: Redeem your gentlemanly reputation and save both of us the embarrassment

Lux: Her accent was wild! 🤯

Dash: did her version start with Fadó, fadó?

Dash: wouldn’t be a wild guess

Lux: I won’t credit you with any telepathic skills this time, then

Lux: also I’d need to 👂 it again to confirm fully but yes, I think so

Dash: [send her an utterly unnecessary voice memo]

Lux: It sounds more intriguing when you say it

Dash: [obviously gotta tell her the full story in an irish voice memo purely for the #flex and the flirt cos you know damn well you’re gonna have to translate it, boy]

Lux: 🤩

Lux: Did you learn that here too?

Lux: I’ve lived so many different places and yet I only know the one language

Dash: My ma started it but when the establishment took over it was a bad scene & turned me off for time, last few years here it felt groovy again having that connection & I refound the 💚☘️

Lux: It’s really cool

Lux: it sounds old, or like elvish or something else not real

Dash: it’s a trip, you’ve gotta get someone to teach you while your fly by lasts

Lux: Oh, I live here 😊

Lux: I room with Nora, do you know her?

Dash: Beats me, what’s her deal?

Lux: Her and her brother Finley have been here for a while, but not forever like you

Lux: but there are a lot of people here so I’m not surprised you’re not sure 😅

Dash: not a clue but loads of people are too rattled to wanna get involved, could be her vibe

Dash: or she just ain’t outta sight like you

Lux: She’s totally involved, she secured like all of the sunflowers for today

Lux: well, me and Amber helped but she was definitely the most enthusiastic

Dash: 🌻👑! I do know her, but her in with Amber & instant karma means she’s not gonna mess around with me

Lux: Ooh, what did you do

Dash: jack, Amber’s hassling me cos I’m not trying to be her old man, she gets super rash & things get heavy with 0 slack

Lux: Hmm I shouldn’t have asked 🤐🙉

Dash: ask her why she’s making a move on my older bro now if not to try & lay a trip on me, babe’s lost it

Lux: Whaaaaaaa

Lux: You have a brother?!

Lux: Is he invisible?

Dash: I wish

Lux: Which one is he, point him out

Dash: [points in the direction of their house lol]

Lux: [a face of understanding like oh okay]

Lux: How does Amber know him then?

Dash: from stalking me

Lux: I don’t think she would do that

Lux: She must’ve just bumped into him or something

Dash: at my house, yeah

Lux: It’s cool, it’s not really my business

Dash: open 👀 like I said

Lux: 📖

Dash: that too 🧠💗🤲

Lux: I can agree with that sentiment

Dash: we’re groovy then

Lux: Of course 😊

Lux: enjoy your evening

Dash: back at you, golden girl ☀️🎇👸🏼

Lux: I like your outfit too

Lux: it’s very ☀️🧙🏽‍♀️🎶🥁🎸🪕🧚🏿‍♂️🌿🌼🧚🔮💃💫🔥🕺🏻🌳💗🍯🍻

Dash: [comes over and ties a chain of flowers around her wrist like it’s a friendship bracelet energy]

Lux: [clearly delighted with this]

Dash: [ask her if she wants to dance even though you know damn well she’s only observing because kind of boy you are]

Lux: [so rude lowkey when she’s struggling so hard with what she does and doesn’t believe now, we’re in enough of a dilemma without your help but there we go; thus we will go dance with you because we do want to and we can make arguments that that isn’t joining in with the rituals of it all]

Dash: [he’s lucky Amber is busy because she would fight him, but instead enjoy your dance you two]

Lux: [the audacity of your lies about her, we were so awkward like 😬 anyway, we will have a nice dance though]

Dash: [such a dickhead he can only be humbled by fire, full offense Nora because we’re ignoring you hen cos you’re clearly wise to his bs]

Lux: [there’s clearly a growing group of gals who are unimpressed by your nonsense and that will be interesting to navigate]

Dash: [Definitely, but yeah probably do slip away like a snek before any of those gals do kick your ass]

Lux: 🎃👠🐁🌠🕛

Dash: A 📘 for the 🔥

Lux: 🤔?

Dash: it’s a drag, all that heavy shit with her fam is a bummer, she gets to split but only til 🕛 that’s some 🌠

Lux: Yeah, it’s enough to get help though and then she gets saved

Dash: nah, to get shafted, she don’t get to dance with anyone else there, it’s a scam

Lux: 😅 who else does she need, she’s got the prince, silly!

Dash: someone who recognizes her next day?

Lux: Touche 😏

Lux: Being a 🤴 is a lot of work

Dash: What 🤴 told you that?

Lux: Where to begin

Lux: I’ve known several who would say as much and the 👸s would never disagree

Dash: Fadó, fadó, fadó a bhí ann…

Dash: but I’d shut it down from the beginning, they gotta be shining you on

Lux: I’m going to have to have translate open constantly, I see 😰

Lux: but very noble

Dash: I try, like you & your ☘️ it’s chill we’ve all got your back

Lux: It would be way worse if it was the only language any of you spoke

Lux: thank goodness 😅

Lux: there’s lots more that’s more pertinent for me to get a grip on

Dash: 🧝🧝🏻‍♀️🧝🏽🧝🏾‍♀️

Dash: we’ve got you on the rest too, like, goes without saying

Lux: Most everyone has been super welcoming

Dash: how long have you lived here?

Lux: Not long enough that that’s insulting 😋

Lux: but gosh, a couple of weeks? Must be

Dash: nah I meant cos I don't wanna explain to you what sorta place this is like you're fresh through the door if you've had loads of time to find your own way

Lux: Oh no, I’m a total n00b

Lux: Hazel got me here but I’ve kinda just been left to it since

Lux: Anything you wanna tell me would be appreciated

Dash: did Amber or Nora give you the tour?

Lux: Amber’s been super busy and Nora likes to stay in our room mostly

Dash: not super welcoming

Dash: but it’s no sweat, I’ll show you round, we’ll have a blast

Lux: they’ve both got their own stuff going on, I don’t expect them to drop it for me

Lux: but that would still be cool, thank you!

Dash: say when

Dash: it’ll be as electric under the ☀️ as the 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌙

Lux: I can 👀 in the dark

Lux: You choose

Lux: find me when you’ve stopped having the MOST fun?

Dash: 🐺🐾🦊

Dash: Meet me in the orchard at midnight, ditching your shoes before

Dash: there’s an 🍏🌳🍎 you can 👀 the whole farm from the top of

Lux: And you’ll remember what I look like?

Dash: you look unreal

Dash: unforgettable

Lux: I got creative with the arts and crafts 🌟⚡️☀️

Lux: I’ve always made my own clothes

Lux: well, I made them for my sisters before

Lux: looking unforgettable was not the end goal there though

Lux: that was for secret

Dash: my nan would be hip to you, she used to make her own clothes, for her girl & her sister too when they wanted, it’s still a vibe for her

Lux: I will make her something then

Lux: what’s her style?

Dash: indescribable

Dash: I’ll show you pics

Lux: Awkward if your nan is cuter than you

Dash: at our age she totally was

Lux: Awh, you’re so sweet

Lux: I have nothing nice to say about my meemaw

Dash: keep it for mine when you meet her

Lux: You’re gonna introduce me to your nan? 😊

Dash: right on, she’ll wanna put whatever you make on for you to 👀 & it’s only a few fields over

Lux: 🏞 it’s a crazy beautiful spot to live, that’s for sure

Lux: so you live with her?

Dash: Yeah, my ma grew up there & when my parents called it quits she wanted to move back

Lux: You’re close-knit

Lux: that’s special

Dash: closer than I am to my da

Lux: Does that upset you?

Dash: I don’t let it upset my equilibrium, he’s uptight, that’s his problem not mine

Lux: I understand

Lux: I don’t agree with my dad on a lot of things

Lux: it’s still sad though

Dash: I got killer people round me, a 2nd family here accepting me for who I am, it ain’t cool he don’t, but they give me what I need

Lux: I’m happy for you

Lux: Seriously

Lux: again, that’s special, you should be really grateful

Dash: I am, believe me

Dash: you’re gonna scope out how special it is here now I’m in charge of showing you everything

Lux: I’d love to see your 🌍 how you see it

Lux: Kinda sounds like everything I need, honestly

Dash: you can, easily when we’re sharing a branch

Lux: 🧚‍♀️ you’re dainty, I trust you won’t let me fall

Dash: I’ll let you fall into something good though, new heights

Lux: Will it hurt?

Dash: no way

Lux: You aren’t pranking me, are you?

Dash: there’s no plastic on me, I’m being real with you

Lux: If you’re gonna try and jump me out in the orchard I’ll have to show you crazy and I really can’t afford to lose this place okay

Lux: so if I believe you right now and you were lying, it’ll be worse than it would’ve been, you feel me?

Dash: Hurting you isn’t my action, I’m about a gentler touch than that

Lux: and I’m not a bully, that’s not my vibe so that’s the warning out of the way

Dash: avenging 👼 I get it

Lux: My costume has you fooled, I think

Dash: Wait, so you’re pranking me?

Lux: No, I swear! 😅

Lux: I don’t feel like I’ve been anywhere near as nice to you as you have to me though

Dash: but you did dance with me & that was choice

Lux: I wanted to

Dash: me too, I wasn’t asking just to be nice

Lux: even though you’re very nice

Lux: I believe that

Dash: I think we’re getting somewhere

Lux: You understand why I’d find a boy like you being interested in me dubious at first, right

Dash: Nah, but I’m listening

Lux: Well it’s embarrassing to say

Dash: alright, listen, I think you’re the most

Dash: I’m embarrassed I’ve not met you before tonight

Lux: There are so many people to meet

Lux: and you’re like the 🤴 of this place, huh

Lux: you have to dance with all the ugly stepsisters too

Dash: if Amber said write that to bait me I’m shutting up

Lux: I think Amber left 🤔

Lux: And who’s calling her ugly, even if you guys have beef, like no way

Dash: & Nora’s gotta be back in your room cos that’s her bag, yeah?

Dash: so where are you?

Lux: I’m in the middle of [one hippie activity] and [another]

Dash: [go find her and dance with her again obvs, we can be bolder about if some of the haters are gone and it’s later so he’s clearly a bit more drunk/high by now too]

Lux: [the way you’re probably sober like how lmao, not saying you always are or will be ‘cos no but gotta have our wits about us ‘cos witchery is afoot; but yeah we all know it can shamelessly way more of a Thing™]

Dash: [at least Amber was too until her row with the bae even if she wasn’t the most present in other ways, so it wasn’t just you gal, but yeah, dispel any remaining fears she may have that you’re not into this please boy with this moment]

Lux: [we know you got your own going on, it’s good, this drama has to happen whether you like it or not babe sorryyyy, when you’re then even more into it because it’s like HELLO IS THIS ALLOWED, so new and fresh to get to remotely be this brazen]

Dash: [shouldn’t LOVE that for you but I do, we should probably let y’all go on your tour then because we’re both in a mood and there’s nobody to separate you]

Lux: [probably, but I will insist on making you wait ‘til midnight regardless]

Dash: [it is a fat mood and I did pick that time deliberately so yeah, dance the night away first hens]

Lux: [sure it’s probably near that time anyways]

Dash: [yeah absolutely]

Lux: [we can skip to the after in this if you like?]

Dash: [are we thinking am like did y’all fall asleep together or?]

Lux: [Hmm, do we go with the Cinderella and have her bounce or do we go against it and not, because then she would think he wasn’t a dick later]

Dash: [even though he’s a dick I still want all the cute I can grab with my smol hands]

Lux: [it’s not like you can’t be like I just fell asleep it’s nbd with it so yeah okay

Dash: [I also like the camber parallel of it all so]

Lux: [true true, we can do it, then you can just have breakfast as a group because duh, was it sunday or monday today?]

Dash: [I think it’s sunday aka Cosmo is having his 2nd date with Ruby tonight and then Camber breakfast dates start monday]

Lux: [okay then you will have to think of a creative way to ditch her then boy hohaha]

Dash: [at least he can just go home because Amber only stayed to angrily eat some fruit and Cosmo had a busy day ahead because I doubt the shower situation at this commune is thriving, water probably runs out always]

Lux: [what a poser lmaooo]

Dash: [and very rude not to invite her when she probably wants to shower or bathe too]

Lux: [we literally got gems stuck to our face but pop off]

Dash: [we know you’re not because your mother is there and sick of your behaviour but yes, it wouldn’t kill you to let her boy]

Lux: [no offence but run him over, anyway, some time later]

Lux: are you ⬇️🍄?

Dash: 🛹⚡️

Lux: aha, cool

Lux: good thing you didn’t invite me I’d end up 🤕 for sure

Dash: I didn’t stop you falling out of a tree last night to have you fall off a board later in the AM

Lux: Hey, you make it sound like I was 🤏 close! 😆

Dash: nah, your balance is sound

Lux: I don’t recall you stepping on my toes, either

Dash: don’t wanna have to start the day off doubting your 🍒 recall, that’d be a bad scene

Lux: I was totally sober thank you 😅

Dash: easy to claim the magic’s all you when I ain’t met you before but I’m a believer

Lux: Wait, was that a compliment or a diss?

Lux: Maybe I’m contact-wasted

Dash: contact with Nora would get you more sober, there’s a diss

Lux: Awh, don’t be mean!

Lux: She’s been really nice

Dash: chill out, I’m only playing

Lux: Hmm 😏

Lux: anyway, what are you doing later?

Dash: I said I’d hang with Yara

Lux: Oh cool, who’s that?

Dash: I’ll introduce you after

Lux: after what?

Dash: we’re done messing around

Lux: wow, alrighty then

Dash: you’ll like her, she’s a trip

Lux: I’m not totally sure she’d want you to 💬 that

Lux: or I’ll know what to 💬 now

Dash: it’s no biggie

Lux: idk, this is not the way I was raised

Lux: you say it’s not but idk, you know

Dash: you don’t have to meet her

Lux: Yeah

Dash: I think she’s rad but you gotta make up your own mind

Lux: It’s not about her

Dash: nah, you, I understand where you’re coming from, it’s a new world

Lux: Right, it seems really icky to me that you’d tell me any of this

Lux: it’s not about how rad she could be

Dash: Come on, Lux, I’m keeping this honest

Lux: I guess

Lux: Why do you need to tell me though, I don’t get it, for real?

Dash: I like you, I don’t want it to get twisted

Dash: 📖

Lux: Okay, I appreciate the sentiment then

Dash: I’ll come find you later, on my own

Lux: That’s okay

Lux: I’ve got lots of chores to catch up on

Dash: they’ll be done faster if I help you

Lux: I can’t stop you

Lux: the place is a mess after last night and the more people who pitch in the better

Dash: I don’t get why you’d wanna stop me

Lux: I don’t really wanna hang out now, not today anyway

Dash: I can’t believe you’re being like this

Lux: Being like what?

Dash: Amber

Lux: I’m not

Lux: you can’t hang out now, I can’t hang out later, how is it any different?

Dash: the way I’m travelling through today is a straight line, yours is all over the place

Lux: Good for you?

Lux: It doesn’t matter either way though

Dash: doing a u turn on me does matter

Lux: It does?

Lux: because last night you thought I was rad, so obviously this morning I wanted to hang out with you again, so I think it’s my turn to do the 180, if you think about it

Dash: I still think you are, last night was unreal & we can be again, I’m just asking you to take 5 cos I can’t split on Yara after making plans time ago

Lux: That’s fine, it’s not fine to be mad at me ‘cos I ask you to take 5 too

Lux: that makes it make no sense

Dash: I’m not mad at you, I’m trying to make sense of why you’re mad at me

Lux: I’m not mad at you, I’m upset

Lux: You only need to ask

Dash: idk I didn’t think this would go down how it is

Lux: Me either, I guess

Dash: you for real want space?

Lux: I don’t know

Lux: Can I get back to you on that?

Dash: yeah

Lux: I wanted to see you again

Lux: I thought you’d want to see me too

Dash: I do, you read me right last night, why are you gonna start disbelieving yourself today?

Lux: You want to see Yara more

Dash: I wanna see her too

Lux: Okay, have fun then

Dash: we cool?

Lux: I don’t know

Dash: idk what's turned you different, you were laying it on me like you got it, how I'm

like royalty & everyone wants a piece of my time

Lux: Oh my Gosh

Lux: I wasn’t being serious and I didn’t think you were

Lux: do you honestly think that, like what?

Dash: It's a touch plastic saying I'm like 👑 but still close to how it is

Lux: Um, you don’t even live here

Lux: you have a whole house and family

Dash: I'm here with my chosen family as much as I can be

Lux: Yeah, but what do you

actually do for this place, or anyone here?

Lux: The audacity to act like it’s your kingdom, that’s laughable and gross all at once

Dash: back off babe, I do whatever they need me to do

Lux: Babe-ing me right now isn’t a good look

Lux: manual labour at best makes you help, not visiting royalty

Lux: are you crazy, like, who do you think you are, seriously I’m so curious

Dash: Who are you? Thinking you can lay this trip on me about what I can & can't do

Lux: I’m not telling you you can or can’t do anything

Lux: I asked you not to call me babe, which is basic politeness

Dash: nah, you're telling me I don't belong to this place

Dash: questioning how I do like

it's up to you

Lux: I said you don’t live here, and you don’t

Lux: and I’ve never seen you contribute, maybe you were super busy before I got here, then I’ll apologize for that

Dash: you're doing a census, yeah? Hold up [everyone currently who doesn't live her like the petty prince he is]

Dash: I've got family here, they all keep me busy

Lux: Cool? Thanks for telling me who else is a tourist ???

Lux: You’re just being defensive, there’s no need if you’re secure in that and your place here

Dash: quit trying to rattle me

Lux: I’m truly not

Lux: but no, we’re not cool now

Dash: I made it known from the top where I live

Lux: Where you live isn’t the issue

Dash: what's your issue? I'm loved & welcomed here, that's all I said

Lux: That’s nice

Lux: I don’t really want to discuss my issue with you, with you, right now, if that’s okay

Dash: later then

Lux: See you around, Dash

Dash: I can't believe you think I'm a flake, this has me totally unglued, you know

Lux: I don’t feel great about it either

Dash: how can I make you feel less bummed out?

Dash: your tour was the most far out I've ever given

Lux: I don’t think you can, it’s done now

Lux: I just need some time to change what I thought this was, or was gonna be, in my head

Lux: but thanks, for offering

Dash: take your time to 👀 what we can be & how you wanna evolve

Lux: Maybe we can be friends later on

Dash: I’d dig it

Lux: I liked talking to you last night

Dash: I felt more connected to you than I usually do

Lux: I don’t think you’re an awful person, FYI

Lux: I just think you could’ve been clearer, and accept that you hurt me without getting way defensive, you know?

Lux: I can accept you didn’t mean to

Dash: I thought I was being clear

Lux: Yeah, I know

Lux: I’m from a very different background and place, it just didn’t translate well, clearly

Dash: yeah

Lux: but I thought I’d put that across well enough that you got that too

Dash: I do get you, but I can’t 180 myself to fit

Lux: No, I’m not asking you to fit my understanding, it’s fine you don’t

Dash: What are you asking?

Lux: Nothing, honestly, I’m trying to explain why I’m upset

Lux: Just like you can’t 180, I can’t change how I see and feel about it immediately, even if some of the ways I were raised are outdated or potentially bad, you know

Lux: You don’t need to do anything

Lux: From my perspective, it felt like a 180 and hurtful to tell me about hooking up with someone else the morning after

Lux: I know how you think and operate is totally different, but that’s it

Dash: but I wanna do something, to help you

Lux: You are nice…

Lux: I don’t know though, what would help?

Dash: I meant what I said last night about showing you this place, making it feel more like a home, how it is for me

Lux: Maybe you could come back and help with the chores

Lux: I shouldn’t have said you NEVER help out, I’ve not been here long enough to make that observation

Dash: maybe it looks like I don’t, cos with family you take liberties sometimes, that kid who’s naughty at home & don’t say shit at school, comfortable to play up

Lux: I have 8 brothers, I understand 😅

Dash: you can have that too, should

Lux: I did, as much as any of us did

Lux: I was a boy, remember

Dash: with 0 limits though, people trying to control & change what you do is for outside of here, I don’t have to think in my dad’s 🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟪⬛️⬜️🟫 way or do what my ma reckons is righteous

Lux: Sounds idyllic, Dash

Dash: it is

Lux: You have to understand my experience of people doing exactly what they want means someone is being exploited or abused for that person’s privilege

Lux: my parents had their utopia at the price of the things we wanted, needed

Dash: that’s why you need this new experience

Lux: Okay

Lux: I do want new experiences

Dash: the farm has the magic to grant you whatever you’re here for, no wish is the wrong size

Lux: You really seem to believe it so I will try too 😊

Dash: I’m about to 🛹⚡️ back if you wanna clean the opposite end or hide from me in the 🍏🌳🍎

Lux: That’s cool

Lux: but thanks for the warning 💗

Dash: don’t let how out of this world you look distract me then

Lux: I so don’t so that won’t be an issue 😌

Dash: It's an accident, huh? I feel you, it must be my fault I can’t look away

Lux: You’re way too smooth for your own good

Lux: but I wouldn’t say that’s a fault, necessarily 🤭

Dash: Hey, I didn’t manifest you into being, even if last night did feel like it had to be cosmically devined somehow

Lux: I felt it too

Lux: no one has ever

Lux: not like that anyway

Dash: you’re like a song I can’t get out of my head, I don’t want it to turn sad

Dash: I’m sorry I got you unglued too

Lux: It’s a lot more complicated than just you

Lux: it’s a whole thing

Dash: You’re gonna find people to share how heavy it is

Lux: 🤞

Dash: they’ll carry you through & even if it’s Amber I won’t let it bug me

Lux: I’m sure that’s a misunderstanding

Lux: I could talk to her? Subtly, of course

Dash: yeah, her misunderstanding me, you’ve got your reasons, she’s not new to any of this

Dash: her problem is she thinks she’s the most & everyone else should think she’s choice no matter what

Lux: Do you think she likes your brother?

Dash: no way, unless she’s got a football obsession now too

Lux: 🧲 maybe

Dash: idk

Lux: Me either

Lux: it just seems a bit crazy otherwise

Dash: he’s as uptight as my da, she’s never gonna get nowhere trying to mess around with him, whatever she’s doing it for

Lux: She won’t have any problem finding someone new

Lux: you said he’s older, right?

Dash: not loads, but he’s gonna be done with school in a sec

Lux: I see

Lux: so you’re the 👶

Dash: til my dad’s new lady puts her demands in

Dash: how many sisters you got to go with your 8 bros?

Lux: you don’t like her at all, huh

Lux: and 5, so they had a tough job being outnumbered

Dash: you heard of a WAG? That’s her whole deal

Dash: whoa, so you had a full time secret sewing job

Lux: yes, we lived in England for a while, that’s how I ended up here

Lux: like a Kardashian, I can see you not having a lot to bond over

Lux: exactly 😂

Dash: you gotta teach me, my nan would be jazzed

Lux: I’d love to!

Lux: there’s a surplus of old clothes to practice on

Dash: still a chore, we get to skip cleaning, yeah?

Lux: Mending isn’t as fun as creating but you’ve got to start somewhere so, I think so 😊

Dash: 😁

Dash: we’ll have a blast cos I gotta start somewhere on earning your forgiveness too

Lux: You’re sweet, Dash

Dash: I’m being for real

Lux: I know you are

Lux: I don’t know what to say though because I’m awkward 😳

Dash: it’s a hands on kinda task & you already know what you’re doing with it, it’ll be me feeling 😳

Lux: No flirting, only crafting

Dash: 🧷📏🧵✂️🧶📍✨

Lux: That’s a very impressive emoji selection

Dash: missing 😍💞🥰💓😘💘 but it’s chill

Lux: Idiot 😏

Dash: 💟 is the compromise

Lux: Okay, that’s adorable

Lux: allowed 🤭

Dash: [show up and take her hand to lead her off to sew, we know you weren’t far away bitch]

Lux: [the way you just melt when he shows, oh gal]

Dash: [I’m upset about it]

Lux: [we know you really like him, for better and worse rn]

Dash: [thank god he does actually like you and it’s not a straight up Drew and Ro situation happening]

Lux: [we can only do that ‘cos they both lowkey suck so we aren’t sad lmao]

Dash: [I like this gal too much to be that evil]

Lux: [it’s drama enough without it being entirely one-sided like no lol]

Dash: [I hope some sewing does take place amidst the blatant flirting because learn a useful skill for once in your life dickhead]

Lux: [we aren’t gonna just roll over immediately ‘cos actually did upset us so you will have to]

Dash: [yay]

Lux: [so that’s probably the vibe for today ‘cos yeah we absolutely won’t even though it’s clear we still like you like that too, so you’ll just have to hang out platonically]

Dash: [it’s gotta be the vibe for a while, sucks to suck boy, but obviously hang out until that girl comes to find you because you clearly do also wanna hang out with her platonically it’s not just like that vine where he breaks the skateboard]

Lux: [a quality vine]

Dash: [do we wanna leave this here?]

Lux: [I think we can]

1 note · View note

hu4ngs · 5 years

Note

found you through wattpad! since you've never written a jeno book, can i get a enemies to lovers au for jeno?

helloooo hahahahah! thank you for requesting

• so first things first, we should get to the bottom of the reason why jeno even hates you and vice versa

• it would be a lot of factors but the main factor would probably be because you’re as annoying as a middle schooler

• you were in phase, where you’d try so hard to be the teacher’s pet, so it just makes you annoying

• jeno doesn’t do a lot of his homeworks, so he’d always get detention for it

• you hate him simply because he hates you lol you don’t really know why he hates you but the feeling’s mutual baby

• so now you’re in your senior year of high school, you’ve toned down the annoyance

• you’re not really a teacher’s pet anymore but your name still leaves a good taste in their mouths when they talk about you

• jeno was still as lazy as ever, though he’s actually trying this year since he wants to graduate

• but he’s failing LMAO thats what happens when you don’t pay attention in class until the last minute kids

• so anyways, you’re not the only person jeno has beef with. in fact, his advanced algebra teacher hates him too

• “how many times are you gonna fail my class, mr lee?”

• jeno at this point was already mocking his teacher as he started blabbing about how he’s gonna fail and he’ll have to stay for another year

• “put your head in the game or i’ll call your parents.” he warned

• jeno almost shit his pants when he heard that

• anything but his parents

• so that day he goes to the smartest person he knows, renjun

• “dude i need you to teach me algebra please i’ll pay you”

• renjun was shocked

• jeno???? genuinely wants to learn???? it’s the end of the world

• renjun, being the smart guy he is, he agrees. he is desperate for $$$ anyway so

• but 3 weeks into the constant classes renjun realises he couldn’t take it anymore

• he doesn’t have the ideal patience of a teacher, because he was slowly losing his mind trying to teach jeno simple mathematics

• “hey jeno, it’s nothing personal or something, but like, i really can’t do this anymore”

• jeno felt like his heart SANK

• “why”

• “it’s been three weeks and we’re still learning the same topic. i can’t take it anymore”

• “i’ll pay you more”

• “no that’s fine”

• so that’s how jeno became tutor-less again

• jeno looked so defeated and heartbroken, and it made renjun feel bad, jeno is his good friend after all

• “i mean, i have a friend, they can tutor you, if you want?” he offered

• jeno went ecstatic again

• so renjun gave him his friend’s number

• so jeno immediately texted the friend renjun mentioned

• “hey i heard you’re tutoring for advanced algebra”

• “yeah who’s this tho”

• “lee jeno from class 5-B”

• then there was a long pause

• jeno was like ???? hello ????

• and then after a really long time they replies

• “you sure you want a tutor from me? i’m y/n from your class”

• jeno was fuming

• it’s literally the loud, annoying ‘middle schooler’ in his class

• so now jeno’s torn between passing his class or feeding his ego

• he chose the first one surprisingly

• so you two start meeting up

• he gets agitated by everything you do and you’re just like ????? hello??? you’re stupid without me ????

• so this routine goes on everyday, and everyday jeno just realise you’re not as bad he thought you’d be

• it’s because you’re really patient with him, and most importantly you’re not giving up on him,,,

• now he’s touched and feels bad for being mean to you

• today isn’t any different

• you arrived, and you hand him the iced tea

• he’s shocked

• “what’s this?”

• “you’ve been studying hard lately. you deserve a treat”

• jeno could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat

• but he didn’t think much of it

• at least until nighttime came

• and he couldn’t sleep

• he’s thinking about your ice tea, your act of kindness around him, your constant assurance that he’s doing fine, he’s thinking about you

• then he felt his heart skipping a beat again

• i didn’t take him long to realise he’s attracted to you

• now he’s back to think about you. your smile, the way you’d hit his head when he says “i don’t know”, the way you’d apologise for that, the way you laugh

• oh no

• but he’s sure you’re just doing this bc you’re nice

• you probably don’t like him back

• but it’s worth a try right?

• no!!!!!

• basically you’ve kept this poor boy up the whole day

• now he’s cranky at school

• “so who are you gonna ask out for prom?”

• jaemin was nudging him that morning

• jeno’s annoyed that he’s being bothered and that he had forgotten all about prom

• but it’s alright prom is like a month away

• “leave me alone”

• “i’m thinking of asking y/n out”

• “no!!!!”

• oops he yelled

• jaemin is stunned

• “whats wrong with you?”

• jeno doesn’t wanna answer that

• so he looks away, totally ignoring the confused jaemin

• then during lunch, the prom topic arose again

• chenle and jisung weren’t going they’re planning on playing video games on that day

• renjun was gonna ask his classmate out

• haechan was gonna go solo

• now its just jaemin and jeno

• jaemin was still thinking of asking you out

• it’s not that he likes you or whatever, but you two are chemistry partners and he thinks you’re a fun person

• and he’d love to have fun on prom night too

• jeno wants to take you out too

• b u t

• he just has a strong feeling that you’ll reject him

• plus jaemin is also gonna ask you out!!!!!

• jaemin, aka the biggest flirt ever!!! is going ask you out!!! how is he suppose to impress you over jaemin!!!!

• after much thinking jeno decides to just man up and ask you out the simple way during his lesson later

• he came to the conclusion you’re a simple person, and you’d probably hate something too big as a promposal

• so you two are in an empty classroom again that day

• no ice tea today, though bc you were running late

• but its ok. today jeno bought you peach tea

• there was also a sticky note on the can asking you out for prom

• it wasn’t much, but oh well

• he was fiddling with his fingers while he waits for you

• then you finally arrived

• “sorry i’m a little late”

• “you’re always late”

• you shoot him a look

• jeno’s always like this though

• “shut up” you told him

• he laughs nervously

• you notice the drink

• “you bought your own drink today i see?” you said

• your hand stretched over to the can to see what he drinks

• you thought maybe next time you’d know what to buy him

• as you turn the drink around you saw the sticky note

• “go to prom with me, y/n?”

• with a cute little flustered face he drew at the bottom of the sticky note

• you’re shocked

• you’re sure this dude HATES you

• whats going on

• you’re flustered AS HELL

• jeno’s also flustered now

• “is this from you?”

• you finally ask

• he slowly nods

• “but… why me?”

• jeno was surprised you’d ask that

• “what do you mean ‘why me’? i can’t think of anyone better to ask out to. you’ve been the kindest person to me this whole time even though i was acting like a semi-asshole to you most of the time. and i don’t know, y/n, i guess after all that kindest and patience you’ve shown me i kinda fellinlovewithyou”

• he’s nervously laughing,,, he can’t believe he just gave that long speech

• “you’re IN WHAT with me?” you yelled

• “i SAID i might have fellinlovewithyou OKAY”

• your face is red as hell now

• so is jeno’s

• so you two are just sitting across of each other, faces red

• “well… honestly, at first i was only nice because you’re paying me to teach you… but after a while it became a habit? you’re not a hard person to tolerate with.” you admitted

• please stop showering him with compliments this boy is a blushing mess ok

• “so… is that a yes to prom?”

• “are you crazy? of course its a yes!”

• jeno is an awkward boy his love was return so now what

• so he’s just awkwardly fiddling with his fingers now

• and you’re like ?? wtf

• and then hes like “wait… do you um… lovemeback though?”

• and you’re like wat

• “well it’s too early to use love, i do like you though”

• and then jeno pause for a minute, before deciding you liking him is fine too

• “so by saying yes to prom will you also say yes to being the love of my life?”

• “yes… but you need to stop being so cheesy though”

357 notes · View notes

evesbeve · 4 years

Note

Request: try as he might, klaus just can’t figure out how to conjure Ben, and the others are getting antsy, but Ben *can* possess klaus, and it’s the only way Ben has to interact with his siblings. How they feel about it is up to you, but I’d love to see the siblings reactions to Ben-as-Klaus

I’ve had this ask sitting in my inbox ever since quarantine began so... months ago. This is kind of sloppy because I really wanted to get it out before S2, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

___

Title: take my face, and desecrate

Summary: The first time it happened, it was an accident. After all, possessing your brother is a simple mistake that can happen to anyone. Right? (In which Ben possesses Klaus, and they have to tell the others.)

(Read on AO3)

___

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

Klaus had just gotten out of rehab—almost ten days clean, the longest he'd been in a long time—and was on his way to meet with his dealer. Needless to say, Ben wasn't exactly happy about it.

But what could he say? 'Hey Klaus, maybe you should lay off drugs for a while, you know, since you overdosed and all?' No. It didn't matter what Ben said, so he didn't. The best he could hope for was for Klaus to go through the process safely. After all, Ben wasn't too keen on other ghosts following them, even if he'd learned to tolerate them.

Things were different this time.

For starters, there were barely any ghosts around, and even those that were there kept mostly quiet, hiding in alleys, not daring to take a step closer to Klaus. Most importantly, though, that… thing Klaus' dealer had just handed him, a crumbled plastic bag with Klaus' fix and a needle that was, hopefully, disinfected, it made Ben shiver.

"Are you sure you're not up for waffles or something?" Ben asked as Klaus led them in a dark alleyway.

"Out of money," Klaus said, his voice almost shaky. "And it's not like you can eat."

Usually Ben would have gotten upset at any remark related to him being a ghost, but there were other matters at hand. "It's never stopped you before."

Klaus suddenly came to a halt. He didn't spare Ben a single look as he leaned against the wall to take the cocaine and a metal spoon out of his pocket. He bit onto the spoon's handle so that he could empty the contents of the bag on it. "Doesn't matter," he said through grunted teeth. Ben's eyes were pinned on the bag—Klaus emptied a third of it, then shoved it back in his pocket with force. The lighter came out next, and Klaus held it underneath the spoon. "As I said, we're out of cash."

"Treating ourselves to a five-star alleyway then?" Ben asked. Bringing up the issue of where Klaus would be spending the night seemed like a good way to ignore the anxiety rising in his chest. "You think they'll have room service this time?"

A snort escaped Klaus, causing a portion of the drug to spill on the floor. Ben secretly wished all of it would.

His question was ignored, of course. Klaus was much too focused on his task now. Ben could tell by the way his muscles tensed up and his hands shook. An addict, thirty seconds away from his fix. A child, terrified of the ghosts that lurked in the dark.

Klaus took the needle out of his pocket, and Ben's shiver returned.

"Sure you wanna do this?" he said without missing a beat.

Klaus, now filling the needle with the drug, chuckled. "It's little too late for second thoughts."

"No, Klaus," Ben said. "I really mean it. You can't—"

Klaus groaned, taking the spoon out of his mouth and holding it with his free hand. "Right, you're just worried about me, as always."

Ben bit his lip, his eyes falling on the needle in Klaus' hand. Klaus didn't really do drugs that required needles—pills were much more convenient, you could just pop one in whenever—but when he did, he always had the decency of being careful, and that wasn't it; the needle was crooked, slightly rusty, and had definitely been used before.

"Listen, I know you want—need this," Ben said, doing his best to ignore how shaky his own voice was. He needed to be calm. Patient. For Klaus, and for his own sanity. "But hold on just a little longer, okay? We'll find something else."

Klaus huffed.

Patience, Ben reminded himself. He couldn't let this go south. "Klaus, I mean it, that needle—"

"That needle is what's gonna make the ghosts shut the hell up!"

But Ben had had it. And so he finally let himself be angry. "Oh please! There aren't even that many."

"Oh, so that's what this is about then?" Klaus gritted through his teeth, a smile that couldn't mean any good decorating his face. "Benny the Friendly Ghost wants to wait for his dead friends to appear before Klaus gets rid of them? I get that you're sick of me or whatever, but they're dead, Ben."

"That's not fair," Ben said. He knew it was just words, just Klaus being Klaus, trying to get to him as always, but it didn't make them any less hurtful. "You don't mean it. You're just mad that I'm right."

"No," Klaus said. "I'm mad because I need this and you're in the way." He threw the spoon on the ground, cocaine all over. It didn't matter; what Klaus wanted was already in the needle itself. He raised his sleeve and tested the needle's pressure a bit. "Only you're not really, are you? In the way?"

They're just words.

"Because you're dead. It's your word against the real world."

He doesn't mean any of it.

"Anyway, it benefits both of us. You won't need to yell me awake from another ghost ambush. You can take a nice stroll instead, or whatever it is that you do when you're not playing guardsman."

But words be damned, did they make Ben furious.

Without missing a beat or even thinking about it, he took a step forward to grab the needle, slap it out of Klaus' hands, to do something to stop this and then—

Ben wasn't really sure what happened.

The first thing he noticed was that he was, indeed, holding the needle. He could feel it in his hand, his fingers wrapping around its plastic texture coated with sweat from having heated it up too much until suddenly he could feel much more than that.

He could feel the midnight breeze against his skin. Could feel the weight of his clothes. The ground against his feet. The splitting headache, his eyes trying to blink it away, his nose wrinkling at the smell of garbage from the bin next to him.

Ben could not see Klaus.

"What the f—what the FUCK?!"

Ben was certain—almost certain—that the words had come out of his mouth, but that definitely hadn't been his voice. "Klaus?" he said again just to test things out, but nothing changed. He coughed, in hopes to clear his throat a bit. He kept telling himself that was all it was, a bad cough, completely ignoring the fact that ghosts didn't get sick.

'What the hell just happened?'

It was due to the echo in his head that Ben noticed; it wasn't Klaus that had went away, but rather Ben himself. He finally let go of the needle that still clutched in his hand, more than happy to finally see it fall. Only it wasn't really his hand. And this wasn't really Ben. At least not his body.

He turned his palm around, inspecting it. The word Hello was written on it, with black ink, never to fade away. On his other hand, Goodbye. Ben scanned his body from head to toe as well as he could without a mirror and felt himself—only that he wasn't really himself, was he?—tense up in his coat. Klaus' coat.

'Ben—'

"I don't know!" he yelled. Did he even need to yell, if he was apparently inside his brother's body? Could Klaus read his thoughts? If so, did he already know how confused he was, how scared he was, how—

'I do,' Klaus said, or thought, or whatever this was. 'Ben, how are you doing this?'

"I don't…" Ben mumbled, surprising himself when the words weren't in his voice once more. "I just wanted to take the drugs away."

'More like you wanted to punch me.'

"Same thing," Ben said. "I think. I'm—I can't think." He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, wondering if that was his doing, or Klaus'.

Ben took a deep breath, leaning against the wall for balance. None of this made sense. It didn't make any sense at all. He couldn't possibly be possessing Klaus.

Unless.

"My name is Klaus Hargreeves, and I am an idiot," Ben said, to prove to himself that this was real, and maybe, just maybe, to piss Klaus off.

'Hey, rude!'

Ben smirked. "And Ben is my favorite brother, and always, always right."

'Stop lying.'

"And I will listen to everything he says from now on."

'Ben!'

"Sorry, sorry," Ben said. He tilted his head back, looking up to the night sky. "I just… Holy shit."

'That's an understatement.'

"It's kinda cool though."

'Wow, you're really taking this way better than I thought you would.'

Ben frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

'I'm high, aren't I?'

The frown didn't last for long. He found himself giggling again, and somehow, he could tell Klaus was laughing too.

Maybe things weren't so bad.

For an accident, it happened quite often after that. It took them a while to figure out how it worked, but in the end, this whole possession thing was indeed not that bad after all. Most of the time. Sometimes.

Ben really wanted to hate it, but it was hard, considering it was his only connection to the real world. He got to actually taste the waffles they got every Friday night, and interact with other people—he did not regret forcing Klaus to join a book club one bit—and even got to make a few acquaintances. He couldn't use his real name, but it was nice.

In exchange for sharing Klaus' body, Ben dealt with the drugs.

When Klaus' cravings became too much, he let Ben take over. Of course they never really went away—Ben couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit bad for all the times he yelled at Klaus to get his shit together—but he knew that being there helped Klaus.

Until Five came back. Until they learned about the apocalypse. Until Dave.

When Klaus dug up his secret stash in his room, and Ben found himself wanting to punch him in the face, he did. Ben didn't go through him, didn't go in him, he punched him, with his own body and limbs, like he had never died.

It was yet another power they'd need to work on.

It wasn't as if they had the time to understand it, though. It happened two more times after that; when their home was falling to pieces, and when Ben released the Horror for the first time since his death. After that, every day was a haze, as they frantically tried to stop the apocalypse.

So when they finally did, and their siblings requested to see Ben, neither of them knew what to do.

"We need to tell them," Ben had said while pacing in Klaus' room.

"Then let's show them."

A few hours later, they found themselves in the living room, surrounded by their family as they eagerly waited to talk to Ben again. Ben could feel the anxiety rising in his chest, and not even burying his hands in his pockets seemed to help. The others were expecting to see him—not Klaus. It wasn't as if they had much of a choice though.

Ben shared a reassuring nod with Klaus, and let the rest happen.

"There," Ben said, stretching his new form. It was oddly comfortable, more comfortable than having his own body manifested, although he supposed that was because Klaus hadn't learned how to do it properly yet.

There was a moment of silence, in which Ben found himself staring at his siblings—or rather, being stared at by his siblings. And yet, regardless of how intense their stares were, it was more than clear they had no idea who they were face to face with.

"Well…?" Luther said. "Where is he?"

Ben had to fight the urge to laugh, Klaus' urge to laugh, but a huff slipped out of his lips anyway. Ben glared at his brother; mentally, at least.

"Klaus," Diego said, as he fiddled with his blade. "Where's Ben?"

Ben swallowed, then took a deep breath. This was it. He'd been waiting for this moment for years, trying to come up with the right words to say, the right way to move, to simply exist, and now that it was finally here, he—

'Christ, Ben, do you need help opening your mouth or someth—'

"Hi," Ben said in Klaus' voice, shutting him up. Not that he could actually block Klaus out, but he hoped he got the message across. Ben cleared his throat, looking down and shoving his hands in his—oh, right. Klaus' leggings didn't have any pockets. He clumsily crossed his arms instead, leaning against the wall. "Hi," he repeated, the words coming out much more clear this time.

"No."

It was Allison who spoke first.

Even though she'd been the first one to apparently figure out what was happening, she was staring at him with the most dumbfounded expression Ben had ever laid his eyes upon. It wasn't as if he could blame her though. He'd hardly believed it himself, the first time it'd happened.

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

"Christ, Luther," Five mumbled, his tone stuck between annoyance and disbelief. "Can't you see? Or do you have that much of a pea brain—"

"I don't understand either," Vanya interrupted, and Five immediately shut up, as if he was ashamed of his comment. "You guys can see Ben?"

"Not… quite," Allison continued, taking a step closer to him. She scanned him from head to toe, again and again, a question hanging from the tip of her tongue. "You're… No."

"Yes," Ben said, because what else could he say?

'I mean, it's just a suggestion, but you could start by telling everyone what's going on. Although I'll admit, having them figure it out themselves is much more—'

Maybe Klaus did have a point.

Ben cleared his throat again. "I know that's not what you were expecting but…" he tried to look past Allison's gaze, but she was standing a bit too close for comfort, and looking past her only made him lock gazes with another sibling. "It's all we have. For now."

Allison shook her head, finally taking a step back. "I need to sit down."

It was at that moment that Klaus decided to burst into another flare of giggles, and this time Ben hadn't been prepared to block it. The sound that escaped him ended up being something between laughter and straight-up choking, which startled not only Ben, but everyone else in the room as well.

Ben pinched himself on the back of his hand and pounded his right foot on the ground in order to steady himself, finally taking over control again. "Are you going to let me do this or not?" he said firmly and out-loud, because Klaus was obviously not in the mood to listen.

"Let you do what?" Luther asked, helping Allison to sit down on the couch. "Klaus, this makes no—"

"It's not Klaus though, is it?" Diego interrupted. It looked as if he was about to jump at Luther with another insult, but he pointed his blade to Ben's direction instead. "Not just him, anyway."

Vanya was the next to get it. Her eyes widened, shock mixed with curiosity, the way they always were when she was intrigued ever since they were kids, and oh, how much Ben had missed that. "I thought Klaus was going to conjure you."

Ben shrugged, finally letting his mouth curl into a smile. Klaus did nothing to fight it. "That was the plan."

"This makes no sense," Luther said again. Ben could feel the next spiral of laughter building up inside him, and he almost let it out to mess with Luther. "Klaus, where's Ben—?"

"Klaus is Ben, you moron!" Five said. He was the first to actually voice their realisation, and he clearly wouldn't have been able to hold it in for much longer. His attention was turned back to Ben, strongly resembling Allison just a few moments ago. "The question is how?"

"Nice to see you too," Ben said. He hadn't expected Five to break into tears per se, but he was the slightest bit disappointed that his first reaction had been to play detective instead of asking him how he was or something.

'Don't take it too personally,' Klaus popped in. 'Remember the funeral? You know that's just how he is.'

'All too well,' Ben thought. And then, 'Now shut up, please,' because keeping up with five other people was hard enough already. Having an internal monologue in—

'—my body,' Klaus finished his thought. 'Technically you're the invader.'

'At least I'm not the annoying one.'

'I think they're talking to us.'

'What do you mean?'

'To you, actually.'

'What? Klaus, I don't—"

"… this been going on for?"

Ben blinked. Diego had been in the middle of talking to him about, about what, really? And when had Ben sat down? No, not Ben, Klaus had. He must have gained back control and settled on the chair next to the fireplace as they were arguing, and now everyone was staring at them, at Ben, and he had no idea what was going on.

"Sorry?" Ben said, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I said, how long has this been going on for?" Diego repeated the question.

Ben considered replying honestly, but something, someone, in the back in his head told him to lay off the details for a while. "Long," Ben said, playing with his hands on his lap. "I've, uh… I've talked to you before."

"You've talked to us?" Allison asked, her eyebrow quirking up.

"No," Ben quickly corrected. "Just Diego. Once or twice." He tried to shove the rest of the words in the back of his throat, but… "More like, thrice, fourice, fice—Klaus, come on, these aren't even real words!"

Diego let out a huff, finally taking a seat of his own on the other chair. "Jesus, that's…"

"Crazy, I—we know," Ben said, and then forced himself to cough the rest of the sentence away, before it turned to a direction he didn't want to follow. Klaus had always been a pain in the ass to control when he wasn't feeling up to cooperating, but now he was sober, and his powers were much stronger than Ben's stubbornness.

'It's because I'm bored.'

'It's because you're an asshole.'

"What about the Icarus Theater?" Luther asked. "You were… You were you, back then. So why aren't you…?"

"In my own body?" Ben offered, and chuckled. Willingly chuckled. "The thing is, we don't really… know how this works. Manifesting, I mean. Not that this is any better, but—"

"Interesting," Five said, his chin resting on his hand. "Dad always talked about how Klaus had only scratched the surface of his powers, but this…"

Ben couldn't help but agree. It'd been years since that night in the alleyway, and he still couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. Having to explain it wasn't exactly helpful either.

"Mom made cookies," Vanya said, breaking the silence. "I could go and bring some, assuming, uh… can you taste them?"

Ben smiled. "I can. Cookies sound great."

'Booo, I'm not in the mood for cookies.'

'Too bad. We're having them.'

'You have too much of a sweet tooth, my stomach's gonna hurt for days.'

'Not my problem right now. Vanya offered us some cookies, and therefore we're having—'

"Sorry sis, it's gonna have to be a hard pass on this one," Klaus said, and it took everything in Ben not to punch himself in the face. "Maybe after some actual dinner, we could—Ben for Christ's sake, cut it out!"

'You're being so unfair. This isn't about you, it's about me and the others!" Ben finished his thoughts out loud.

"Uh, guys?" Luther said. "What is happening?"

Ben stood up, tensing his body up as much as he could, to stay in control. "Klaus is just being a wonderful brother—shut up! You're being a dick!"

"Kl—Ben?" Allison said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"We're fine," both of them said. It was an odd feeling. Ben felt his body shaking, even though it wasn't. Not really. "I just need to—we're sitting down again—no we're not—yes we are—stop being ridiculous, you're making a fool out—sorry, whose body were we using agai—it's not my fault you can't bring yourself to manifest a single—that's not fair—you're not fair—I swear to God, Ben, I'm going to—"

It all happened in a blink of an eye.

For starters, Ben was definitely not in Klaus' body anymore. He could see Klaus staring down at him with wide-open eyes, while Ben's body collapsed on the floor, as if he had been literally thrown there, and it hurt—

It hurt.

His fingers curled around the fabric of the carpet, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He rubbed his head with one arm, his eyes never leaving Klaus'. Once he got on his feet, he was going to kill him. He was going to kill him, because somehow he managed to make the pain permanent, and his head hurt, and—

"Ben?"

He jumped, his eyes locking with Diego's. Then Allison's. Then, slowly, everyone else's.

"You guys can see me?"

As always, it'd been an accident.

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silveraccent · 4 years

Text

Alone Together || Grace & Morgan

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @silveraccent @mor-beck-more-problems SUMMARY: On her way to work, Grace realizes she’s not ready and wanders to the Outskirts where a concerned Morgan finds her. They have a nice little chat. CONTENT: Panic attack

Grace stared at the entrance to the morgue. She hadn’t realized that her hand had been shaking until she lifted her hand to the side of her face, fingers desperately trying to untangle hair from her earring. It had taken some getting used to, the silence-- it all one sided, it all warped and ringing. The doctors had said that it was normal, what she would continue to experience. Still, it was new, and it was uncharted territory for Grace. The longer she stared at the morgue, the more she felt unease creep down her spine. She had forgiven Regan, so why couldn’t she go in? The longer she looked at the glass windows, the glass door, the more she expected it to shatter and pop around her, the glass digging into her skin. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down around her hands, balling them into fists. Before she knew what she was doing, she was turning on her heel, keys still in hand, down the drive, onto the sidewalk, and away from the morgue. The heat of the day had begun to burn the crown of her head, the telltale signs of fall-- cool in the mornings, only to warm as the sun rose. She couldn’t be sure how long she had been walking, or how far. It wasn’t until the sound of a vehicle sidling up next to her, the window rolling down, did she notice she was no longer alone. Pulled out of her stupor, she glanced over to the woman, eyebrows pulled together. She stared without speaking. Then, after a moment, “can I help you?”

Only in White Crest did the visitor’s parking lot at the hospital have gridlock rush hour. Morgan had needed to park across the street to visit yet another maimed colleague. Technically, it was just one of the office ladies, but she was kind to Morgan and she was probably going to die of some supernatural ailment the hospital staff didn’t know how to treat properly. She deserved a little company and a box of candy before the end. She was just pulling away when she noticed someone walking along the side of the street. The young woman asked her a question and Morgan quirked her brow before realizing how vaguely serial-killer-y she must look by pulling up to a lone woman on an empty street in the middle of a gray, misty autumn. “Well, I don’t know, you’re the one walking alone in this part of town, so…” Not helping with the serial killer image. Morgan started to pull over when she saw the young woman’s name tag. “Oh! You’re Grace! The Grace at the morgue! You know Kaden and like, all the 20-somethings! You were hurt, are you—?” She finally stopped the car and stepped out, hands held out in a sign of, ‘not pulling any funny business, I swear.’ “Are you okay? Do you need a ride or...jeez,” she looked kind of stressed and out of it now that Morgan was looking at her carefully. “A friend?”

“Huh?” Grace looked around her, suddenly unable to recognize her surroundings. How long had she been walking for? She reached up and pushed the heel of her hand into her right eye, willing herself to rub away whatever exhaustion had crept up on her to cause her to walk without realizing where she was going. Hadn’t she learned? White Crest was not the type of place to do that in. “Grace at the morgue…” She looked down at the badge that hung around her neck. She hadn’t even taken it off. She blinked once, twice and looked at the woman. She didn’t recognize her, and despite her excitement, there was nothing that Grace could feel. Maybe it wasn’t the woman, maybe it was her. “I was--” Grace’s looked at the woman, a quizzical expression pulling over her features. How did she know so much? How did she know Kaden? Discomfort bloomed in the pit of her stomach, but she tried her best not to show it. Grace watched as the woman got out of her car, but she was unable to register what was happening. Why was she getting out? She watched the woman, listening to her words. “I’m okay-- I’m just--” She twisted around to look at their surroundings. “Lost. I guess. I don’t know-- where are we?” Maybe it was the mist that made it hard for her to discern where she was, but she hadn’t ever been good with directions to begin with. “I’m sorry, but how do you know me?” She asked, her tone polite, but careful.

“Well, you’re kind of between the middle of nowhere and downtown. I’m kinda worried that you can’t tell, since you’re the one walking around,” Morgan said, concern wrinkling her grin. “I know a lot of people you know. Blanche, Nell, Kaden, Regan--it’s honestly kind of weird we haven’t intersected yet, but I’ve been busy and I know that you had a hard time after the big, uh, accident that happened at the morgue.” She leaned against the side of her car, scoping out the roadway for oncoming traffic. “I get if you don’t want to get in a car with a stranger, but you look like you’re really struggling. We can just...idle, if you want. There’s a cemetery just up that way, if you want to talk or just sit somewhere not a roadside, until you’re ready to come back to yourself and get to wherever you need to be. And uh, not to overshare, but I’ve had my fair share of spacing out and wandering around, and it’s usually not because I’m super ‘okay.’”

“Nowhere… and…” Grace’s wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling disconnected. How had she walked so far? She hadn’t been walking for that long, had she? “Oh.” Grace blinked at the woman. If she knew them, she was safe, wasn’t she? At the mention of the accident at the morgue, Grace felt perspiration begin to bead on the back of her neck. She wiped it away quickly. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that--” Grace hesitated as she looked at the car. She didn’t mind walking all the way back into town, truly, she didn’t. “I--” It felt like a cold plate of metal had been placed on her tongue. “No, yeah.” She reached up to rub at her eye. When she pulled her hand away, black eyeliner went with it. So much for the new brand being better than any brand before. She glanced back towards the woman. “That’d be-- I think I need to sit down.” Before she knew what she was doing, she was slumping down, her bag tossed to the side. “I’m fine, I am, I just--” She took a deep breath and tucked her hair behind her ears, dragging her palms against her cheeks as she looked up at the stranger. “I need to sit. I think.” The metal on her tongue grew harder to ignore, “sorry, do you-- do you have water? Or gum?”

A frequent crier herself, Morgan had plenty of tissues and makeup removers on hand, and fished a pocket pack out for grace, before her runny eyes writ her distress any larger. Before she could ask for what she needed, or make another pitch for the nice cozy cemetery just a few blocks away, with benches and trees and much better atmosphere, Grace was on the ground next to her car. Morgan popped into the car briefly to get the gum she kept in her glove compartment to keep the brain breath at bay while she was at work. “Hope you like--” she had to check the label. They never tasted like anything so she barely paid attention. “Banana pudding flavor.” She took out her water bottle next and plopped down on the side of the road next to Grace, holding it loose in her grasp until Grace was ready. “Are you breathing okay?” She asked, her voice gentle and firm at once. “If you’re having an anxiety attack, you need to remember to breathe before the hyperventilating kicks in.” She laughed breathlessly, hoping that staying casual about this all would put her at ease. “The water’s here when you’re ready. I don’t really have anywhere to be for the rest of the day, so.” She could stay, if that’s what Grace really needed.

The taste in her mouth only grew worse as time went on, but the woman was returning with a pack of gum-- what had she said the flavor was? Grace took a piece and quickly unwrapped it with shaking hands, breaking it between her index and thumb, popping it into her mouth. Grace chewed slowly in an effort to ground herself. She hadn’t registered her sitting down next to her, a water bottle in her hands. Grace stared down at the ground, the tissue that she had been supplied in her hands, shreds of white falling to the ground as she began to nervously rip at it. “I don’t--” She hadn’t felt like this since her Grandmother’s funeral, and the conversation with her mom afterwards. She nodded at her words and took a deep breath at her instruction. Her company was devoid of any emotion, and Grace couldn’t be sure why that was, or if it was only providing more of a reason for her to fall into despair-- it was like when she was alone. There was nobody else’s emotion she could latch onto, that she could leech off of. Grace stole a glance at her and gave her a short, but polite nod. “I’m sorry-- I don’t, I don’t know really--” Grace let out a hysterical laugh and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes again. “Thank you,” She whispered. She didn’t want to put this on a stranger, even if this stranger knew her. She hated the idea of inconveniencing somebody with something like this, especially when it seemed as though White Crest was falling apart all on its own. “Can you--” Grace took a second to peel back from her arched positioning, “what is your name?” She asked, eyes glossy with tears that began to fall down her cheeks.

Morgan stared ahead, murmuring gently to breathe. She didn’t know what, exactly, had this young woman in so much distress, but if she was slipping into her pain, it probably didn’t matter too much. “You’re here, okay?” She said. “Remember that you're here.” On the creepy side of the road in a town that liked to kill its residents. Morgan kept that part to herself and offered her hand. “Let me know if you need to hold onto something. I’ve got a seriously high pain tolerance.” But Grace wanted to know her name. Morgan laughed, bumping her head against the side of her car. In all the mental haze and maybe-anxiety-attack, Morgan hadn’t been able to get around to that. “Morgan Beck,” she said. “I teach english lit at the university, I know at least three or four of your friends, I--” Died six months ago? Don’t leave the house without a pyrex full of brain? “I watch a lot of Grey’s Anatomy. I have two cats, one of which I adopted with my girlfriend. I have a lot of experiences with doing questionable things like taking a walk and not knowing where you’re going because you just can’t bear to stay where you are, and other wacky depression-anxiety hijinks.” She looked sidelong at Grace, her look curious and gentle. “You should breathe slower. And it’s your turn for introductions, whenever you feel like it.”

She hadn’t realized that the morgue would instill this sort of reaction in her. Grace thought she had been prepared to return, but the moment she saw the front doors, the moments she saw Regan’s eyes go black came crawling back. She thought she had gotten over it, she was even working on forgiving Regan in her own weird way. “I’m here,” Grace repeated after her. She tried her best not to bite her lip, or the inside of her cheek. It wouldn’t help ground her, she knew that. Grace hesitated, but reached out for the woman’s hand. It was cold, and Grace passed it off as the mist that surrounded them now. “Morgan Beck.” Grace sounded the name out on her tongue. She recalled Regan telling her that this woman might know where Cece had gone, and she wondered if that were true. It was easy to listen to her talk, and she was grateful for the distraction. The more Morgan spoke, the easier it was for the morgue to fade out of her vision. Grace turned slightly so that she could hear Morgan better and gave a curt nod. “I’ll breathe slower.” She closed her eyes and wiped at her eyes with her free hand. She wanted to mention how cool it was that she had ended up adopting a cat with her girlfriend, but Grace didn’t have it in her. It was like the energy had been drained out of her. “I’m--” Grace hesitated. Morgan already knew her, so what else was there to say? Although, it seemed that she only knew her as the girl who had undergone the “situation” at the morgue. “I’m Grace Huang, I’m from Portland. I have a fish named Ruthie-- he has one eye.” She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, squeezing Morgan’s hand tightly. “I’m not sure how I ended up here,” she said after a moment, then met Morgan’s eyes. “Why are you doing this for me?” She asked, confused.

“It’s nice to meet you, Grace Huang,” Morgan said. “You can squeeze my hand harder, if you want. In fact, I dare you to break a bone just by squeezing.” Grace was lithe and trembling, and Morgan doubted that she was capable of hurting a human, much less someone with bones that sprung back into place. When Grace finally met Morgan’s eyes, she beamed, warm and sympathetic. “Well, there isn’t anyone else here, and you look like you need a hand. And that just so happens to be something I can be good at from time to time. I think it’s good to be kind to the people who you come across, if you can be. And you’re a friend of several of my friends, which is a huge to be kind, if happening to land in your path wasn’t enough of one already. But, I appreciate that I am a strange lady who you don’t actually know well. What else can I say? Well, I’m originally from Texas. Raised Pagan, which was kind of weird and fun growing up with. I like to bake and cook for my friends, which means if we become friends, you’re going to have lots of casserole and soup and mac and cheese and cake and pie in your future. I’m a fiend on karaoke night. I moved here because when my mother died, I didn’t have anyone left, so I thought I would go back to where my ancestors had once lived. And this place is pretty screwy, but I don’t think I could leave without at least some of the people I’ve gotten close to. How’s that for getting acquainted?” She gave Grace’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to talk about what’s bothering you, but since it’s got you halfway to the floor, it might be worth a shot. Whatever you need, it’s up to you, Grace.”

The more Grace came to understand that she wasn’t feeling anything from Morgan, the more she realized she was stuck with her own thoughts, her own feelings. The woman’s eyes looked warm, her smile welcoming, but Grace couldn’t tell her true intentions. Why was that? She tried her best to push the thought away, tried her best to focus on Morgan’s words. Maybe there was something wrong with her now, maybe the mood she was in now-- maybe this happened to people like her, maybe she was sick. “Oh.” Grace nodded slowly and looked down at their hands. She listened to Morgan speak, allowing her words to carry her away from the despair and panic that was building in her chest. The more Morgan spoke, the more the morgue became a distant memory. There was no broken glass showering around her, the sound of Regan’s scream was fading, as if it had been heard from miles and miles away. “I’ve never been to Texas.” Grace said quietly. It dawned on her that this might be the very Morgan that Kaden had told her who helped with the pie. She was real, then-- real to the people that Grace trusted. She felt her shoulders relax at the sudden revelation and she gave Morgan’s hand a tight, firm squeeze. She was sure that when she pulled away, her own palm would be bruised. “You helped Kaden make a pie for me, I think.” Grace whispered, using the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the residual tears that had stuck to her cheeks. “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure if she was thanking Morgan for the pie of the past, or if she was thanking her for these moments. “You don’t know me very well and you’re doing this for me already--” Grace wanted to tell her that even though she couldn’t feel Morgan’s true intentions, she could tell that she meant well, that despite there being a wall between them, Grace could see the good in Morgan. She kept her mouth shut, though. “I don’t think I can talk about it.” Grace wasn’t sure what Morgan knew about Regan, and the thought of putting Regan in danger, it made her stomach churn. “I just don’t-- I thought,” Grace took a deep breath, her fingers beginning to tremble again, “I thought I was ready to go back, but--” She looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes again. “I’m not, I’m not ready. Cece isn’t there either, it’ll just-- I don’t--” She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “I wanted to be alone so bad, but now that I am, it’s terrifying-- it--” Grace felt her chest heave as a sob bubbled up in her throat. She was alone, despite Morgan being there now. She was so very alone.

“I did, yeah. Pecan and chocolate chip. You can’t outdo a Texan pecan pie recipe. You’re welcome for that, I guess,” Morgan said. “It’s a nice way to pass a Sunday afternoon.” Especially when your girlfriends were out in the woods torturing themselves with ritual banshee training. But that part, Morgan knew, was better left unsaid. “And you don’t have to. I meant it when I said--” But it was the funniest thing. As soon as Grace said the magic truthful words, I don’t know, the dam started to break and out came her fear. To her chagrin, Morgan hadn’t really thought about what it had been like to be in that mess. When Regan had shown up at her door, her distress had taken precedent, and Cece had brushed off the whole thing so easily, but someone like Grace, someone whose world wasn’t constantly twisted with violence or fear. It had to be so jarring, feel so many kinds of wrong. Morgan let out a long exhale. No wonder people got it into their heads that supernaturals needed to be extinguished. “It sounds like this is a really shitty time to be all alone,” she said. “I’m sorry.” Not in the least because she knew exactly why Grace wasn’t going to see Cece or Regan anytime soon, and couldn’t tell her. “Wanting to be alone is a weird, funny thing. Once you get it, it’s so miserable. And when you want it...I don’t know. When I thought I wanted that, I just really wanted to be not-hurt and not-misunderstood. And that’s different.” She sighed. “What is it you really want, Grace?”

Grace had a hard time opening up to people, especially people she had just met. Morgan, for whatever reason, seemed to be an exception to this. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been anything but angry in front of others, maybe it was because she was finally alone with her own thoughts, her own feelings, there being nothing else to latch onto. “I don’t--” Grace reached up to tuck her fingers into the collar of her shirt, pulling it away ever so slightly to relieve the pressure that had suddenly begun to build up there. No matter how hard she tried to stop the tears from falling, they continued to salt her cheeks. Grace hadn’t anticipated all of this happening when she moved to White Crest. She had heard from her parents all of three times since moving, and one of those times had been a few days before her birthday, claiming they were late. What kind of parents couldn’t even remember their daughter’s birthday? Grace could hear Morgan’s words, but she couldn’t make sense of them, couldn’t put the sentence together. “I don’t know what I want, but--” Grace looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes, her gaze hopeful as she covered her other free hand over the one that was already in the brunette’s. “I want to stop feeling, because--” She felt so much. Every day. From everyone. Even now, her own emotions were running rampant, clouding whatever Morgan was feeling-- she couldn’t feel Morgan, and to Grace, that was terrifying. She swallowed her sorrows, the bargaining she left in the quiet nights of her apartment, her pillow covered in tear stains. “I just want to go back to work, to feel like everything is okay.” Grace moved her hand away from Morgan’s to wipe at her eyes again. “I’m sorry, you really shouldn’t be having to listen to this.” Grace let out a frustrated breath and knelt her head down, taking another deep breath. One hand still in Morgan’s, she squeezed it tightly as another aching sob bubbled in her chest, creeping up her throat. “I don’t want to pretend like everything is okay, but I thought--” Grace tilted her head back, willing the tears to flow back into her eyes, “I thought things would be different here, I’m tired of losing people, and people keep leaving and I don’t feel like there’s anything I can do-- there’s nothing I can do to keep them from leaving.”

Morgan knew those feelings too well. Thinking back of the people she’d run from before she realized it made no fucking difference, the jobs she’d left, the half-lives she’d watched crumble by a few mistakes or one supernatural disaster were too many to count. And when she’d died, after a while being numb to her existence seemed so much better than waking up enough to feel how horrible and backwards it felt. She tried to hang onto Grace’s words over the swelling tide of memory as her words dinged every ache inside her, pains she thought had scarred over for good, but stung now as if they were fresh.

“It’s okay, Grace,” she said at last. “I understand, at least a little. I don’t mind listening.” Morgan sniffled and blinked back her own tears. She was not about to let some 20-something she didn’t know in on her traumas. Besides, most of it was difficult to get at the root of besides saying things like “cursed within an inch of my life by an evil baby witch” and “skewered to death and now a zombie.” She could do this without touching any of that. She could be kind to both of them and get through this. “I wish there was some kind of magic promise to guarantee you’ll never have to feel this way again. And I know you hurt something fierce right now. And sinking deeper into that feeling is worse, and so is trying to tell yourself to have feels worse now too. But I don’t know how else a person is supposed to survive feeling that awful, except by being brave enough to hope that next time will be different. I don’t know enough about your situation to say if your people will come back to you. If they’re alive...maybe. But if it’s a wait between now and next time...you just have to hang in there.” She squeezed the girl’s hand again. “You’re here right now. That’s what matters, okay? You’re right here. You’re still Grace Huang. And you’re gonna be okay.”

Grace often tried to dissuade the feelings of longing and despair, burying them deep. The situation with Regan, it had brought up a lot more than she had anticipated-- and the reemergence of Renee’s ghost, too. She hadn’t thought it possible that she’d see her again, but the girl she had seen, bruised and battered, that was not her Renee. Grace struggled with the loss of her ability to hear in one ear, but not because of the actual situation itself, but because who had caused it. She lost Regan to that moment, and despite their relationship not being long enough to solidify a strong relationship, Grace had looked up to her. She had seen a lot of her Grandmother in Regan, and now they were both gone. Their minds and hearts under lock and key, far, far away from where Grace could reach. Though Cece’s departure would be temporary, she felt that, too, was a catalyst for Grace’s abandonment issues to unmerge, ripping her wide open, tender and broken. Grace tried her best to listen to Morgan’s words, to take them and let them absorb, to understand them to their fullest extent. She was right, and Grace knew that. “I don’t have--” There were a lot worse things happening in other people’s lives. Grace didn’t deserve to cry over this, over her loss. Who was she to cry over losing a boss she knew only for a few months? She closed her hand over her mouth and knelt her head forward again, letting her half-sob, half-scream fall into the palm of her hand. If she could, she would bottle it, throw it as far away as she could, all for the sake of survival, of feeling nothing.

After a few minutes of silence, Grace finally spoke. “I am Grace Huang, but that’s all that I’ll ever be.” She let out a deep, shuddering breath, one that shook her shoulders as she leaned forward again, finally releasing her grip on Morgan’s hand. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes again and rubbed hard. “I don’t want to just be me, I want to be somebody that somebody can rely on, and I don’t--” Grace let out an exasperated breath, suddenly finding frustration building in her chest. “I’ve never been able to do anything, I want to do something-- I don’t want Regan to run away, I don’t want Cece to disappear, too.” She looked at Morgan, her own tired eyes reflecting in the brunette’s. “I’m so tired. I don’t want to lose people. I’m so afraid that one day I’ll wake up to news that Blanche or Nell, or even Ariana, that they’re gone, and then what?” She choked on her words. “I can’t do anything, I can’t ever fucking do anything to help anyone, and Kaden told me that, that’s not true, but--” She let out another frustrated groan and gripped her pants legs at the knees and leaned forward, her chest flet like it was going to concave with the level of anxiety she felt. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I can’t do anything, and if I can’t do anything, it means that I’ll be alone.” Her mind was working too quickly to recognize that she was spilling this to a stranger-- though, could she consider Morgan a stranger now?

“Being Grace Huang could mean something pretty great if you let it,” Morgan shrugged. “You can be a Grace that’s reliable, fun, kind. Oh, hey…” She couldn’t help but feel bad for the kid and reached into her other pocket for the makeup remover wipes and started dabbing at her face. “So, I can tell you on very good authority that Cece is definitely not going anywhere for good yet. I don’t know when but she will. And Regan...isn’t in your control. And neither is anyone else. And that’s so frustrating, when all you want is to keep people close. Helping isn’t the same as keeping. I don’t think you’d have so many friends if you weren’t good at helping them when they need it.” She sighed and set aside her wipe. So many of Grace’s words reminded her painfully of her own when she was alive. She still wished for an end to her suffering, for just one weight to be lifted off her so the rest would get easier to carry. The harder she wished, the more it felt like a pipe dream. “The worst part is there’s no cure for ending suffering that I’ve ever heard of. People are going to get hurt and you’re going to feel responsible and there won’t be much you can do except comfort and hold and say that you’re here too. And it doesn’t feel like much, but if it’s all you can do, then it’s kind of everything. There’s no cure for aloneness, besides trying and letting yourself be here with the people you care for. It’s that easy, and it’s that hard.” She cast her eyes upward to the sky, searching for an answer to any of their questions. But there were only clouds. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Everything you’re saying is something I’ve said before and that makes me think I know how you’re hurting, and I’m sorry, Grace.”

Grace hated crying, and what she hated more was crying in front of people. The fact that this was the first time she was meeting Morgan had only made this situation that much more embarrassing. She tried to control her breathing, but her chest heaved with every breath she took, tears threatening to burn her eyes once more. Morgan worked quickly at the eyeliner she was sure was now ruined-- an awful brand, really. She’d need to invest in something better. The longer she was forced to sit and stew in her own feelings, the worse she was beginning to feel. Was she that fucked up now that she couldn’t feel anything from anyone? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t feel Morgan, couldn’t tell what was happening with her. Grace swallowed thickly and reached up to rub at her eye, finally able to contain the quiet sobs that were beginning to make her head ache. She knew that Morgan was right, but it was easier said than done, believing in what she had to say.

“It is hard,” Grace murmured after a moment. She watched as Morgan looked up at the sky, and soon after, she mimicked her. She looked up at the clouds, no longer parting for blue. “I just don’t know what to do,” Grace said quietly. She wanted to be there for people, but not cause any more problems. A part of her couldn’t help but think that even now, she was making things harder for Morgan by having this conversation. Grace took a deep breath and released the grip she had on her pants legs and wrapped her arms around her torso. “Loneliness isn’t as easy as just being alone… I like being alone, but this? This isn’t being alone, this is something different.” Grace’s last word came out in a high pitched whine as she made a grab for the water bottle. She took the piece of gum into one hand and tucked into her fist. She knew the texture from the water turning the gum cold and hard would only make things worse for her. Taking large gulps, she finished the bottle in less than a minute, her stomach feeling rock hard and heavy. It was a few minutes until she said anything else, “I never meant to make more friends, it just-- it sort of happened this way.” There was no controlling who she cared about, and she knew that. There was no controlling in what ways people stayed safe, either. They had their own lives-- Regan clearly had a secret one, one that Grace hadn’t known about that involved breaking glass and inciting fear into anybody near enough. Grace knew she was still terrified of Regan, but she had been well on her way to forgiving her. “Do you know Regan well?” Grace hiccuped, tightening the grip she had around her own torso, anything to keep warm.

“You’re right about that, loneliness,” Morgan mumbled,wishing she could still drink or smoke, or...anything. She had been lonely in cars full of people and quiet parties, and about as many other places as a person could. She didn’t feel that way with Deirdre, although with each new fae crisis, she had this fear that the bubble they built around themselves would pop, and one day she would come out of her reading on the couch and find that sharp,heart-sickening loneliness had crept in with them. She listened to Grace as she went on, taking law, mindful breaths to try and distract herself from the tears that wanted to come out. “But stars above, we’re social creatures, Grace. We need each other. It’s how we’re made. I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re meant to have people. Anyone who told you otherwise was being cruel.” Finally the subject changed, and Morgan perked up for all of a second before she hit the wall. This was a pretty shitty time to care about Regan, and hanging onto her wasn’t going to do Grace any favors, even if Regan needed as many people to wait for her as possible. “I know her a bit, yeah,” she said. She wasn’t sure if they were friends or not. It felt more like having a weird cousin she went from seeing never to a lot out of nowhere. Morgan felt bad for her, and felt like as one of the few people in the Banshee Torture School circle of knowledge and someone who had to deal with a body transformation she didn’t ask for, she could understand Regan easier than most. But that wasn’t the same as understanding her, or being her friend, or knowing who she was outside of her suffering. “Regan’s stuff has nothing to do with you, Grace. I can promise you that much. And there’s nothing anyone could’ve done to stop it or make it better. That’s a promise too. You can’t carry all this stuff outside of your control. You’re just going to break yourself faster than the world will like that. You have to be kinder than that, including yourself. Okay?”

“I think…” Grace blinked up at the sky, willing the tears to disappear from the corners of her eyes. “I think I’m afraid of people.” It had taken her some time to realize such a thing. She wasn’t afraid of them because they were dangerous, though White Crest was certainly showing her that that’s why she should be fearful. She was afraid because it meant more loss, meant more words left unsaid due to unforeseen circumstances. Fear had been instilled in her the moment she felt Renee die, and now? How was she supposed to go through that again? What if it just so happened she created that bond, because that’s what her Grandmother had said it was, and had to feel somebody else die? “Being close to people, it means.. You have something to lose.” She had had a version of this conversation with Kaden, and even Nell. She felt her stomach twist and she tore her gaze away from the sky, back to Morgan. She tightened her grip around the wad of gum that sat in her palm. “I’m not naive enough to think so, there’s something else going on--” Grace bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m worried.” I know I shouldn’t be, is what Grace refrained from saying. She knew it was odd for her to be worried about somebody who took something from her, her security, her hearing. Grace couldn’t help it. After the anger had subsided, she had seen the situation for what it was-- something out of her control, which, in reality, was what Grace was most angry with Regan about. “I know that, I know that I can’t do anything about it, but…” Grace thought for a moment, looked at Morgan like she was seeing the woman for the first time. “I don’t want to be disposable.” Grace whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear her own words leave her.

“Being important to people means letting them be important to you too,” Morgan replied. “Important enough to be able to hurt you. It’s a balance, Grace. You offer, and you receive, back and forth. And sometimes it syncs up to be perfectly equal, and sometimes you have to wait or give a little more, and sometimes you have to ask for more. But you have to want to be there for people more than you’re afraid of losing them or being rejected by them. And that is so hard when you keep ending up alone at the end, but that is what it takes.” She reached over to Grace and gave her a squeeze. “I know we don’t really know each other, but with as many good friends as you have, I believe in you, Grace. Let me know when you’re ready to get back up and I’ll drive you wherever you want to go, okay?”

Grace hated that Morgan was right, and it showed in the set of her shoulders, the way she looked down at her feet. She wanted to wallow in her own self-depreciation a bit longer, but it didn’t seem as though Morgan was going to allow that. She, of course, was also thankful. “It takes a lot. Out of me. Out of them. I’m just.. I’m tired.” Grace let out a defeated laugh before she rubbed at her cheek with her knuckles. Taking a tissue, she wrapped the wad of gum in it and stuck it into her pocket. At Morgan’s touch, she looked over with a faint smile. She knew that Morgan didn’t have to do what she did, stopping, talking, easing her pain, but she did. “It means a lot. Coming from somebody who doesn’t know me that well.” She wondered if it shouldn’t, if along the way, Morgan would become disappointed to, or worse-- disappear altogether. She swallowed the thought, let it bubble in the bile in her stomach. “I think I want to sit awhile longer, if that’s okay.” Grace sat in silence unmoving, next to Morgan. She knew she had a lot to think about in regards to hers and this stranger’s conversation, but if a stranger could see the good in Grace, could see she was capable, then why couldn’t she? Grace reached up to wipe away the remaining tears, her breathing finally calm.

#chatzy #para: alone together #chatzy: morgan #para: morgan #in which NOTHing sad or bad happens #alone together (fob) mp3

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