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huihuiheart · 3 years

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Unchained - Wolf! Bang Chan

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Pairing: Wolf Hybrid! Chan x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, smut

Summary: You knew your boyfriend was likely up to no good, but you assumed it was just a slight drug problem or something of the sort. At least, until he takes you with him, something you agree to only to know what kind of man you’re dating. Only to find out it’s much worse than you think, he’s been helping kidnap hybrids for illegal underground fights. Something you can’t stomach, but you also can’t just do nothing...which is exactly what the authorities would do. So you decide to break the hybrids out before you leave, only in the process you may end up stuck with a hybrid of your own.

Warnings: Hybrid Fights, Violence, aggression, domestic abuse? (an ex gets a little rough/aggressive), blood, slight gore, underground fighting, mentions of kidnapping, drugs, alcohol, betting, mentions of death, cops/detectives, gun fights, bullet wounds, unprotected sex, cursing, biting, marking (kind of, briefly mentioned), clothes ripping, Chan is impatient, and somewhat feral, bondage, oral (f! receiving), overstimulation, spanking, choking (slight).

Word Count: 14,754

Note: The story starts with you and your soon to be ex, it takes a little bit for Chan to show up...once he does though, oh boy....

Taglist: @lovesfaith @blessgguk

Taeho had been your boyfriend for a long time, years in fact. That’s how you knew as soon as something was up with him. At first, you had assumed it was just something temporary, a lapse in self-control brought on by the stress of his daily life. Which is why you’d kept quiet and to yourself, to begin with, as long as you weren’t having to clean up behind the problem and he wasn’t bringing it home you assumed everything would be okay, and that it wouldn’t be long for him to return to his normal self again.

Only, this all started six months ago and it seemed that if anything whatever it was only got worse. He disappeared more often or showed up at odd times of the night without warning. He never brought any signs of what he was doing home to you, leaving you to wonder if he was cleaning up at his own apartment before surfacing again or if he got into something you hadn’t quite considered before.

Whatever it was, you weren’t sure that you could continue to live in mystery. It was killing you inside not knowing if he’d even show up again or if he’d be dead. Or what if you got a call from the authorities saying he had gotten into trouble while drunk or high. You needed to know what was happening to know if he needed professional help or if you could at least talk some sense into him, for your own sake just as much as his. So you sent the text, asking him to come over to talk while you collect your thoughts.

Taeho comes in and smiles at you as he sets his keys down and gets settled in your familiar apartment, “Hey babe, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to find your earlier confidence again now, “I wanted to talk about how you’re sneaking around all the time now. It worries me.”

Taeho pouts a little, before chuckling and coming over to squish your cheeks some, “Are you worried I’m cheating on you baby? I could never. You don’t have to worry about that one bit.”

“I wasn’t worried about that being what it was.” You frown slightly at how dismissive he seems to be about the whole thing, “My thing is just that if you’re having to sneak around then whatever it is you probably shouldn’t be doing. I’m worried that whatever it is will cause bigger problems and maybe you won’t come home one day or something. So what is it? Drugs? Alcohol? You can tell me...”

Taeho sighs, pulling away slightly to run a hand through his hair, “You’re right, it’s not exactly legal. It’s not like that though baby, it’s not an addiction. It’s no big deal either, it’s just a way I can make more money for our future. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, okay?”

“If it wasn’t a big deal you’d trust me with the details, instead of hiding everything from me and leaving me to have a heart attack when you show up at four in the morning.” You counter firmly, not having any of his excuses.

“How about this? I’ll think about it, and when I leave today I’ll leave your key. That way I can’t get in and scare you in the middle of the night? I have to give you advance warning then?” Taeho bargains and you can’t find it in yourself to argue, nodding softly, and letting things seemingly return to normal for the evening.

It had been about a week after your conversation with Taeho that you got the text. The one where he finally conceded to your wishes. Though now as you read and reread over the arrangement your gut twisted, not sure if this was such a great idea. What exactly had you gotten yourself into?

Still, you were insistent on figuring out if your boyfriend needed help or not, and there was no way you could do that at home without any of the details. So you got ready, throwing on something simple, just jeans and a hoodie in hopes of being able to be somewhat hidden wherever you ended up. Though you weren’t sure if that would be possible, maybe just being with Taeho would draw attention to you. Either way, it was too late to go back now as Taeho let you know he was at your building.

Getting into the passenger seat you could swear Taeho could hear your pounding heart. He paused looking at you for a moment as if debating himself if he was actually going to do this, before sighing softly and starting the car up again.

“You don’t have to come, you know. Once you know about this, there’s no going back. You can’t claim you were never involved anymore, if someone finds out you know stuff you could get into serious trouble. Otherwise, you have to stay quiet about it okay?” Taeho looks you firmly in the eyes as if warning you of what was to come. You simply nod though, staying quiet and unmoved waiting for him to drive off.

After about fifteen or so minutes he pulls into an empty lot near a metro station, turning the car off and getting out. Gesturing for you to follow his lead as he heads down into the station, one you weren’t familiar with as this wasn’t considered the best part of town.

“Stay close, or there might be some trouble,” Taeho whispers, offering you his hand to take as you go down and into the station, standing on the platform.

You quickly notice that there’s no station security here, only one or two homeless and no one else. Taeho waits for the next train to pass, before jumping down onto the tracks and holding his arms out to help you down as well. You’re hesitant, more so now than before with your location, but follow him.

Taeho notices and tries to ease you some, “Don’t worry, the cameras here are down and the next train doesn’t come for a half-hour. We'll be fine.”

His insistence leads you to follow him down the track in the direction that the train came from until you find a little maintenance platform hidden in the side of the tunnel. He helps you up before following, into the little abandoned inlet, opening the door and leading down the stairs to a basement section. Leading you through a few turns until you came to a door with a man standing outside, no doubt guarding it against any unwanted visitors.

“Hey Jeup, she’s with me.” Taeho nods to the man who looks over you for a moment, before getting the door for you both and stepping aside to let you in.

Slipping down one last set of stairs you’re in a dimly lit large room, the center area spotlighted as crowds form around it. Money and drinks being thrown around. You spot more than one questionable substance in the area. Three men walking over to you and your boyfriend.

“Hey Taeho, I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” The man leading them chuckles and claps your boyfriend on the back, “And you brought a guest.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss this match, it’s big and it’s my fighter. Of course, I’d be here.” Taeho chuckles and you feel your stomach churning as you start to put some of the pieces together. “Yeah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Jian, and this is Ungjae and Changbin. They’re two of my best. Though your boyfriend certainly brings in a pretty penny too, he’s found me some of the best fighters. Gotta keep the crowds entertained after all.” The man laughs a little, the other men smirking.

You feel slightly relieved knowing that it won’t be your boyfriend who is fighting, but still, you have an unsettling feeling about this. You knew that underground fights of any sort were bad news, your lack of details about these only worrying you further. Did they even have any care about rules here?

“She’s kinda shy and new to all this.” Taeho jokes with the men, slipping his arm around your middle.

“Well, we’ll be seeing you around Y/N. We have a fight to get set up though.” Ungjae nods before the three leave through the crowd.

That very crowd parting for you and your boyfriend as you come through, people recognizing Taeho, “ If you don’t want to look then just tell me, but otherwise you need to keep quiet.”

His whisper is harsh in your ear, yet you can barely make it out over the commotion that the crowd is giving as another man slips into the center area to announce the upcoming right as two others push large covered cages into the area. You feel the sickening feeling in your gut bubbling up at just what you’re about to witness. Assuming it would be some kind of fight between animals, ones you might not be able to look at the same way again after today.

The feeling only gets worse though when the cages are uncovered to reveal two hybrids, their names being announced through the microphone the man is holding. The names mean nothing to you though, even if you could have made them out over the pounding of your heart in your ears. The crowd seems to love it, however, the fighters being two of the big ones here. A wolf hybrid on the left and a lion hybrid on the right.

“Chan, the wolf hybrid is mine.” Your boyfriend whispers, before sighing as he sees your frightened, or rather appalled look, “Don’t be like that baby...they’re just animals, not like us. If you really can’t stomach it though, go to the back and buy a drink. I’ll get you when it’s over.”

You shake your head slightly, not sure what you’re going to do. When Chan looks over though, and into your eyes, you almost feel like you’re going to cry. Leaving back through the crowd to go find a drink like Taeho suggested, knowing there was no way you’d be able to stomach what was about to happen. You also weren’t sure there would be a way to stop it either though.

You down your drink quickly, hoping that along with the cheers of the crowd will be enough to drown out the sounds of the fight. You’re out of luck though as the growls, cries, snapping of jaws, and bones sound clearly through the room. There no way you could drown that out, or the guilt gnawing at you, yet what could you possibly do? You were clearly outnumbered and out forced by people who saw no problems with any of this. Plus you knew the authorities rarely gave more than a slap on a wrist to people who mistreated hybrids. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize someone was coming over to you.

“You can’t stomach it, can you?” Changbin asks leaning against the bar near you, “It’s okay, neither can I.”

Your brows furrow as you look at him, “Then why are you even here?”

Changbin leans in and sends you a flash inside his jacket, where a badge is hidden, before moving to whisper to you, “I’m undercover...hybrid division...and I’m trusting you by letting you know this because I can tell you don’t belong here and I don’t want you to end up in any worse of a situation. So if you’re willing to listen to me, then we’ll help each other out here. Okay?”

You glance back into the crowd to ensure that Taeho is still occupied before nodding at Changbin, “Okay, but what can I possibly do to help you?”

“Well...I’m not going to lie and say it’ll be easy or safe...but I’m hoping you’ll help me break the hybrids out. I can’t get it authorized by higher-ups yet, because this ring is bigger than just what you see today. We still need information, so I can’t risk exposing my identity to them.” Changbin starts, taking a turn at checking to see if you two had drawn attention, “I have a copy of the keys to their cages though and on the back way out you’ll pass by them. What I want you to do is break up with Taeho or at least just insist he point you the way out, it’s crucial he doesn’t go with you. Then get as many cages open on your way out, but be quick. Afterward, call me and let me know everything is okay. I’ll have someone check in as protection just in case. Whatever you do though...don’t take any of the hybrids to your house. Can you do that?”

You debate with yourself for a moment, not sure if you could follow through with what he was asking. At the end of the day though, you’d managed to follow through on getting yourself into this situation and you couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. You find yourself nodding again, holding your hand out for Changbin to slip the keys and paper with his number into. Items that you’re quick to hide in your pockets. Everyone thoroughly invested in the fight as it comes to a roaring end. The fight was closer than anyone could have predicted, as the cheers exploded and the winner helped back into his cage...what’s left of the loser being carted off who knows where. Changbin disappears into the crowd before anyone loses interest in the ring and spots you two talking, leaving it up to you at this point.

"Babe! I won! My fighter won! Plus I bet on him, do you understand how much I just made for us?" Taeho comes over and tries to crush you in an excited hug, only to be confused as you push his arms away. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"I...I can't be here right now...I can't be with you....not knowing that you're doing this. I...I need to leave right now and I don't want you with me...ever." You get out backing up as you shake your head.

Taeho sighs and advances towards you, "Come on baby, there just animals, what does it matter?"

You scoff, "You say that like it makes it better? If you were dogfighting I'd still be disgusted in you. Besides the only person acting like an animal here is you. Now point me the way out and don't show your face to me again."

Taeho shakes his head pointing towards the back like Changbin had earlier, "If you go that way it's a straight shot out. Don't expect me to just drop this conversation though. I'll give you time and then we're gonna talk about it. I can't just not talk to you about it."

You knew you didn't want that, but you were afraid of what the repercussions of making a scene right now might be. So you simply nodded, shoulders slumping in defeat as you headed out the door leading to the back way out. Creeping your way through the damp hallways, the smell of mold and sewage rampant but something you ignored as you came to the first cage. Checking around once more before quickly unlocking it and starting to work your way through the room hoping to get them all. You were almost done when you heard the sound of voices approaching, signaling that you were about out of time. Turning to leave your eyes locked with the same pair from the ring, only now they held slightly less life in them. Chan having been torn up pretty badly in the fight he'd just been in. Looking like he likely stood no chance if you left him here to face off what would no doubt be an infection in one if not many of his wounds later.

So you worked fast to open the cage, ignoring the growl from the wolf hybrid as you moved to help him out. You knew he likely hated you and for good reason, you were a stranger in this environment that had only brought him suffering and pain. You could worry about the dangers of helping him later though. For now, you just needed to get the two of you out...and fast.

“I promise I’m trying to get you someplace better than this, but if they get us then we’re both dead. So I’m gonna need you to help me out.” You whisper to Chan as you slip his arm around your shoulders, your own going around his center to help him out. Moving as quickly as the two of you can ignore Chan’s grumbles as the voices get louder and start to sound somewhat pissed, worrying you that they’d caught onto your acts.

Slipping out the back entrance you make your way down the street, tossing the keys you’d used in some random trash can so that if they caught up to you no one would find any proof you’d done what you had. You were starting to panic though, Chan needed help...you couldn’t just leave him. Yet, Changbin had explicitly said not to take any of the hybrids back to your house. Doing the only thing you could think, you used your free hand to try and call him on the number he gave you, slipping into an alleyway to let Chan sit down to rest.

Changbin taking long enough to answer that you weren’t quite sure he would pick up, “Are you alright Y/N? Is something wrong?”

“Changbin, I got all the cages open...but one of them was hurt from the fight...I think you called him Chan. I helped him get out, he needs more though... I’m worried he’s gonna die or something if I leave him. What should I do?” You whimper over the phone taking turns watching between the street and Chan for his well-being.

“You didn’t take him to your house, did you? They have trackers Y/N...if they spot him at your house there’s going to be a whole slew of problems.” Changbin panics over the phone as you hear a car door close, “In fact where are you? I’m on my way to help.”

“I’m still close to the station...too close I’m afraid. In an alleyway.” You urge Chan up again before he can get any worse helping him to slip out the alley and start away again.

“I’m sending you directions now, to a doctor who specializes in hybrids and a friend of mine. Start heading there, I’ll follow the same path and when we cross I’ll pick you and Chan up.” Changbin says, starting up his car, “Oh and Y/N...be careful. I’ll be there soon.”

When he hangs up, you pull up his directions starting to follow them as Chan grumbles again making you sigh, “Listen...be as bitchy and growly as you want later, but right now your life and mine are on the line so shut it and just come with to the doctor so he can help you.”

“I never asked for anyone’s help. Especially not yours, so why don’t you just run along now to someone who actually gives a fuck. It’s not like you really did anything for me. Fight to live in there or fight to live out here, what’s the real difference.” Chan snaps at you, his harshness stinging slightly despite you knowing it’s his history with people and not you specifically.

“I’m not just going to leave you to die! I don’t care if I have to drag you there I will, but I don’t think that either of us wants that.” You insist already somewhat dragging him along, despite him holding some of his weight still.

“Why the hell not? Why would you possibly want to help me? Do you want a little pet or something? Cause that’s not happening princess.” Chan scoffs waiting for you to announce some underlying motive behind your actions.

“Because I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you. It’s not right. Leaving someone who’s hurt...who you can help all alone to suffer and die. I’m not someone who wants you for a pet. I want you to have a life, which is definitely not on the table if you die. So let’s get you your health back first and then worry about any other obstacles to you getting a full life after that’s resolved, okay?” You don’t get a verbal response from Chan, considering he had no idea what to say. Not used to being treated like an actual person before, his heart softening some at your conviction, it proving you truly had pure intentions. You get some form of an answer though when he straightens up slightly, cooperating further in your helping him.

Chan’s body language changed again though when Changbin pulled up, not trusting him in the least. His gut trusted you, however, and that’s what won out, convincing him to get into the back of the car with you. Letting Changbin drive you two off to an unfamiliar place. One he also was not fond of with how sterile and medical it smelled, only used to that from whenever those who fought them needed something done...like putting in the tracker that was now going to need to be taken out.

“Minho! We need help! He has a tracker though, so take care of that first and give it to me...I’ll make sure you all have plenty of time here.” Changbin calls into the clinic another man popping out to lead the way.

Minho makes quick work of the tracker in Chan’s arm, handing it to Changbin who runs off with it after apologizing for getting you into this mess and leaving you and Chan to find another way home. Before Minho is laying Chan back and getting things ready, putting in a drip iv since he was both dehydrated and it was the best way to give him painkillers at this point.

“He’s going to need someone to look out for him while he recovers,” Minho tells you, starting to stitch up an injury. Chan watches him closely, wary of the situation while he slowly starts to fade out of consciousness due to the meds.

“I can keep an eye on him, I might not do a perfect job but I’ll try my best.” You nod at Minho before smiling at Chan, “You just rest up now, and get better. It’ll all be okay, I promise.”

Chan’s not sure where he is or how much time has passed. all he knows is his eyelids are heavy and his brain foggy. Trapped in a haze from the meds the previous night, yet fighting past it as the smell of food wafted throughout the apartment. His brows furrowing as he sits up, in an unfamiliar bed at that. Not that he was used to any bed, even still knowing that this was someone else’s set his nerves ablaze.

What calmed him though was picking up your scent, this was your bed...yet your scent wasn’t strong enough to imply you slept beside him last night. His assumption confirmed as he looked around and spotted a much less comfortable-looking armchair converted into a makeshift bed while a fit aid kit sat on the night table between the chair and where he slept.

Chan is slow about getting out of bed, being careful of his injuries and the remaining effect of the medicine, yet unable to ignore the call of food. Letting it lead his way to where you were working in the kitchen, mouth-watering at both the sight and the smell as he watched you closely. He wondered to himself if he’d have to sneak any of that for himself though, would you share with him or would you give him something less grand like everyone had before. He couldn’t deny that you treated him differently, yet everyone had their limits...didn’t that?

“Are you feeling alright?” You ask, having spotted him when you finally looked up, “If you’re in pain you can sit down and I can get you something for that really quick. The food is almost done anyway since you shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach.”

“I’m feeling alright at the moment actually, better than after most fights like this to be honest.” Chan admits quietly, slowly stepping closer, “Is that for me too?”

You chuckle and nod, “Yeah, there’s no way I can eat all this by myself. Besides I thought that a good high protein breakfast would help you get some of your energy back and help you recover some more. Sound good?”

“That sounds...that sounds amazing. Thank you.” Chan is flabbergasted, practically in awe of your attitude towards him. As if he was just any other person to you.

“Alright go sit then, don’t strain your injuries. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.” You shoo him away with a smile. Chan’s face is graced with a tiny smile of his own as he moves to listen without much fight for once, looking around to take everything in as he sits at the table. Joined by you with the food after not too long.

“If you’re still hungry afterward I can always make more or you can help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. Just try not to eat too fast. Minho said sometimes the meds can make your stomach a little sensitive and I don’t think it would be good if you got sick right now.” You advise him as you take your seat, “So...I never actually asked, what’s your name?”

Chan’s brows furrow as he looks up at you after quickly shoveling his first bite of food in, “I mean you know what they called me...Chan...”

You shrug, eating some of your food, ”Yeah, well that’s not what I asked is it? I didn’t ask what they called you, I asked what your name was.”

“Christopher...my name is Christopher.”

The day seemed to pass fairly well, Chan slowly getting more comfortable in your apartment, not that you minded. You encourage him to rest from time to time and let him clean up and put on some clothes you’d run out and gotten for him. Occasionally checking your phone to see if any news came up about what you had done or Changbin texted you anything just in case.

You knew something would come up from last night though you would be naïve to think otherwise. Especially after what Taeho had told you before you left. The chaos coming crashing back into your peaceful little bubble when a fist pounds against your door. Chan’s eyes darkening as he looks over at it, already recognizing the scent on the other side.

“Y/N! Open this door right fucking now! We need to talk!” Taeho yells through the door, making you tense and panic. Your hands shake slightly as you give Chan your phone.

“Chris, take this and text Changbin what’s happening, he’ll send help. Go hide in my room or something, don’t let him know you’re here, or that information might get out.” You whisper to him, knowing that he’d have no problems hearing you.

Chan debates for a moment, not wanting to leave you...especially if you were going to face your pissed-off ex-boyfriend. Yet, he knew it would be better if the information about what you had done didn’t get out. For your sake, as much as his, he knew these were dangerous people, and Taeho was by no means the worst of them. So he went and disappeared into your room, texting Changbin, who he still didn’t necessarily trust, but if it would help and keep you safe he would do it.

You crack the door open and sigh softly at Taeho, “What the hell do you want? I thought you said you’d give me time before showing up to talk about this again?”

Taeho huffs, forcing the door open, not caring if it stays that way as he advances on you, “Yeah, well that’s before you made the dumbass decision to break all of them out.”

You back up as he moves closer, body language screaming aggression, and you hope you can either convince him to leave or help gets here before anything can happen, “What are you even talking about, Taeho?”

“Right after you left, all the hybrids were broken out. You really want to tell me that wasn’t you? After you were oh so disgusted by what was going on? I go out and make us good money, and you turn around and do this to me...well guess what, now it’s my ass on the line, so you better start talking before I turn it around onto you. I will throw you to the wolves if I have to for my own sake.” Taeho hisses, backing you against a wall with no way out.

“Sure, I was disgusted, but how would I even have managed to get them out, Taeho? Huh? They were in cages. What could I do?” You counter trying to push him off, but he doesn’t budge.

“They were, and then someone changed that. I’m guessing it was you, considering everyone else there has been there for a good while.” Taeho shoves you back against the wall.

“Once again, how would I have opened the fucking cages, Taeho? What? Did I just see some bolt cutters lying around and decide to take matters into my own hands?” You purposely throw out a made-up way of opening the cages, and it gets him to give you a little space to breathe at least.

“No...they were open with keys.” Taeho’s voice softens slightly, taking a step back enough to let your now sore back finally come off the wall.

“How would I have gotten my hands on those keys? The only person I would know well enough to be able to sneak them off was you? Were your keys missing? Cause that should be your answer right there? Now, if you’re done throwing out baseless accusations, get the fuck out of my house and go look for whoever the person with a new moral compass is.” You shake your head, hand rubbing slightly at your back.

“Oh, I’m not leaving just yet. I have a feeling you know something at least. Even if you weren’t the one who was behind it, and I’m going to figure out what it is.” Taeho insists, looking around your apartment before spotting two sets of everything laying around, “Who else is here, Y/N?”

“No one, what are you talking about?” You play it off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Two cups of coffee I wouldn’t have batted an eye at, but two take-out meals when you’re on your current healthy eating kick...not so much. Before you make up excuses, I can see that both boxes are empty. So save it and tell me who the fuck is here with you.” Taeho hisses, and when you scoff he grabs your arm, squeezing painfully tight, “I don’t have time for games.”

“Let go of me. No one is here, and even if someone was, that’s not your goddamn business. I don’t want you in my life anymore. That means I can have whoever the hell I want over here, and I don’t have to justify shit to you about it.” You respond, trying to pull out of his grip.

Taeho shoves you behind him, cursing under his breath, “Whatever, it is my business cause I’m the one who’s going to have to pay for it if this comes back to you. If you don’t want to tell me, though, I’ll go figure out who’s here myself.”

“No, the fuck you won’t.” A voice sounds from the entranceway to your apartment. Changbin standing there and walking in, “It seems like you’ve done more than enough damage here Taeho, let’s take this outside.”

“Changbin. So you’re the one, huh? Bet Jian would love to hear all about this.” Taeho chuckles, crossing his arms and scoffing at the other.

“Oh, but he won’t hear a peep.” Changbin counters showing Taeho his badge, “So you can either come willingly, and we can talk terms that are a better deal for you. Or you can make this a whole lot worse for yourself than it already is.”

Taeho huffs before cooperating with the detective, making you wonder just how often he already got into trouble to be able to go along without much direction at all. You truly didn’t know the man he was, the man you thought you loved...who you thought loved you. You were distracted for a moment, though, when Chan rushed out to you, quickly helping you up and looking you over.

“I knew you had been involved! You’re the one who took my fighter!” Taeho screeched heatedly, making Chan’s attention snap to him. His gaze burns through Taeho as he growls towards the man moving to advance on him until you get between them.

“Whoa, easy Chris, don’t do anything to him. He deserves it, but it won’t help you any right now. There are too many people who would use it against hybrids, you and others. Besides, there’s plenty of charges on him right now that he’s going away no matter what, you won’t have to see him ever again.” You insist on trying to be logical, despite knowing that Taeho deserved anything that Chan had intended to do at this point. He had practically asked for it through what he did.

This is why you walked over and slapped him in the face, leaving a mark that would fade by the time anyone else was around, but still giving him a taste of what he deserved, “For the record, though, Christopher doesn’t belong to anyone. You’re just a dumbass who can’t look past his own selfish desires to treat people like they deserve.”

Chan looks at you stunned before pulling you back to him as Taeho suddenly decided to get aggressive again, trying to get to you. Changbin dragged him away to take care of it.

“I’m going to have my last partner come check in on you and make sure it’s safe for you guys to stay here. He’s one of the few people I trust to look out for you guys in this situation. His name is Hyunjin, I’ll send him over. Until then, keep the door closed and locked.” Changbin tells you before he’s entirely out of your apartment with Taeho.

You gently place a hand on Chan’s shoulder to assure him you’re okay before pulling away to close and lock up your apartment. Chan never far behind as he follows after you still concerned.

“Are you alright?” Chan finally speaks up in a soft tone, and you hum looking at him a little confused.

“Yeah, I mean where I got hit still stings some, but I’ll be fine.” You nod, forcing a small smile to try and ease his worries. Chan gently brushed his fingers over where Taeho had grabbed you harshly, already knowing bruises were forming.

“I meant emotionally after all of that...still you don’t need to lie to me about it.” Chan counters yet does not sound angry or cross with you despite calling you out like that.

“You’ve been through more physically and emotionally. I’ll be fine.” You brush it off with a small shrug, moving to walk away and to the kitchen. Your responses only worry Chan more.

“I was used to that by now, though. You’ve just had everything come crashing down onto you all at once after he lied to you about it for who knows how long. That’s a lot, and you don’t have to tell me anything about it if you don’t want to, but you don’t have to force yourself to be fine for me either. Even if we’re both broken right now, that’s okay...maybe...maybe we can help fix each other...together.” Chan’s voice drifts from concerned to hopeful. He’s not sure he has any idea what he’s doing. He just knows that you don’t deserve this, and you’re making him feel for once like he doesn’t either.

You sniffle, turning towards him with a fresh round of tears in your eyes, “ You know what, Chris...I’d like that.”

Besides going to work pretty much all of your time was spent with Chan in your apartment. Your heart breaking for him, he was free from the cage but stuck here until everything could get worked out. You’d gotten closer to Changbin and Hyunjin, Chan slowly coming to trust them with you. The two guiding you through the process that would lead to the numerous court cases looming over you. Minho occasionally popped in as well to check on Chan and make sure he was adjusting to life with you okay.

“So the date for the case to determine if Chris can safely stay with you or not is locked in for next week now. Before then, we want you both to meet some people, one is a hybrid. He wasn’t in fights like Chris, but he was in a rough situation too. The other person is the one who helped him get a life back, like how you’re doing. They had to go through similar trials as you two will, so they might be able to give you some insight on how to go forward. That being said...Chris hasn’t really been around another hybrid outside of the fights, so just take it slow, it might be a bit uncomfortable for a while.” Changbin tells you while Chris and Hyunjin are in the kitchen working up something to eat.

“That would probably help a lot actually. You and Hyunjin have offered a lot of help, but we’re still kind of drawing blind here. Having someone who can kind of guide us on the specifics would probably help a lot with the anxiety, to say the least.” You sigh softly, and Changbin chuckles a little, nodding in agreement.

“Their names are Felix and Jisung. Their schedule is pretty open, we just weren’t sure where you’d be comfortable meeting, so we didn’t invite them over yet.” Changbin explains, pulling out his phone, and you shrugs softly.

“Well, we’re still not wanting Chris to be spotted, so just invite them over it’ll be fine.” You wave him off. Having three guys constantly around your apartment kept it pretty chaotic anyways, what were two more, right? “Speaking of that, though, any idea when the other cases will be?”

“The bust on the ring is happening in a few days, before the first case but not much. Just enough to not put a bigger target on you both by being out in such a public place. It’s just a matter of how long it’ll take to build the case after that. I’d expect it to take about three weeks from the bust, a month at the absolute latest. The hybrid rights case is scheduled for just over a month from now, at this point anyways. Those dates could change, though.”Changbin’s huff tells you he’s no stranger to changing court dates, not that you and Chan are either at this point. Changbin slipping his phone back into his pocket after texting Felix and Jisung your address.

You nod, processing the information he’s just shared with you, “Okay, as long as the bust happens before our court date, I’m not too worried. I just want everything to be as safe as possible.”

Changbin sighs, his lip between his teeth and face concerned, “Either way, it won’t necessarily be safe...or pleasant...There are going to be people who are very against what you and Chris are trying to work towards.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not going to back down from doing the right thing because of that, though. As long as the people who started this whole mess are behind bars and not trying to shut us up, I’ll be alright.” You insist, Changbin nodding, but you can tell he’s still worried about you, “Besides, I’d say we have a pretty good support group.”

Chan pops out of the kitchen, beaming proudly at you, “Hey Y/N! Come look at this!”

You hum, standing to follow the excited man into the kitchen. You watch as his ears twitch, chuckling as you notice him intently eyeing the kitchen timer. Hyunjin, looking up from where he leans against the counter and snickering as well.

“You can open it and look at them, it won’t ruin anything. Besides, sometimes the timer isn’t exactly right anyways.” Hyunjin tells Chan, who shakes his head adamantly.

“No, they need to be perfect. Besides, they’re almost done.” Chan insists, waiting for the ding to launch forward, grabbing the oven mitts so he can pull out whatever is in the oven as there’s a knock on the door. Changbin calls that he’ll get it as Chan pulls cupcakes out of the oven, “Look! We made cupcakes! And we can make a lot more too!”

Chan’s excitement dropping almost immediately, head whipping towards the door. His expression is sharp and concerning you. You look between him and the doorway with furrowed brows.

“What is it Chris, what’s wrong?” The slight waver in your voice draws Chan’s attention to you for a moment. A feeling of guilt bubbling in his gut at worrying you like that.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a cat.” Chan snorts, only confusing you more until you see Changbin appearing with two people. One of them being a cat hybrid, his tail flicking anxiously behind him until he spots the cupcakes.

“Did you bake those?” The cat hybrid perks up, mirroring Chan’s earlier excitement. Chan looks between the cupcakes and the other hybrid, still wary but eventually choosing to interact with the cat hybrid.

“Yeah. I’ve never baked anything before. Hyunjin was showing me how.” Chan slowly answers, and the other man nods along.

“Well, they smell really good. You should go ahead and try them. I bake a lot, and usually something that smells this yummy is.” The cat takes a step away from the cupcakes giving Chan a bit more space to go towards the cakes. Chan hesitates for a moment before holding one out to the other hybrid, much like a peace offering.

“I’m Chris,” Chan speaks, still watching the cat closely but slowly trying to let him in with the same compassion as you had first shown him.

“My name is Felix! We’re here to help you with some of the details for your case, but if you want we can be friends too! I could show you just how many different kinds of things you can bake!” Felix eagerly offers, making Chan light up a little more as he nods along. Slowly adjusting to the fact that, like people, not all hybrids are threats to him either.

You look at Jisung and smile softly, “Thank you for coming. I think this will be really good...for both him and me.”

The day of your first case finally arrived as you stood in front of Chan, fixing his tie for the umpteenth time, trying to calm your own nerves. Chan gently takes your hands into his own, trying to comfort you some.

“I’m nervous too, but it’ll be okay. Everyone is going to be here to stand up for us and help us out.” Chan reassures you, squeezing your hands gently before letting them go as your lawyer arrives.

Seungmin looks between the two of you, “It’ll be alright, just remember what we talked about and it’ll be okay. They’re going to try and throw you off and get under your skin, so don’t let them. Just stay calm and answer like we practiced.”

You and Chan nod before following Seungmin into the courtroom and following him to your place. Passing by where your support group sat, everyone, having cleared their schedule to be here for you even if they weren’t going to need to testify. You glanced back at their smiling, encouraging faces from where you were seated between Chan and Seungmin, before taking a shaky breath to calm yourself. Changbin had told you that you were lucky to get the judge you had, Yang Jeongin, he could be a tough judge, but he was fair when it came to hybrid cases. He treated them as a person, one who could speak for themselves and had a right to do so, which is more than many judges would right now.

Your hand held Chan’s under the table, letting Seungmin do his job knowing that you and Chan would likely be the last ones questioned based on how everyone prepared you for today. So far it seems accurate as Changbin was called up first.

“So Detective Seo would you please explain to everyone how you can to know the defendants?” The prosecutor asks, and while you knew that the question was coming you still felt your nerves spike at that moment. Chan’s history and how you all met was something you knew could either make or break your case today, and you could only hope for the best.

“I was working undercover as part of an operation to take down an illegal hybrid fighting ring. Chan happened to be one of the fighters that they held there by force.” Changbin answers calmly, trying to leave you out of it. The prosecutor is having none of it though, looking between him and you for a moment.

“And what about Miss Y/N? How did you meet her?” They continue to question. Chan picks up on how your heartbeat speeds up, squeezing your hand softly to try and calm you down.

“Her boyfriend was a part of the ring and brought her one night to show her what he did for a living. She wanted out that same night but was concerned for her safety. So -” Changbin goes to defend you, but the prosecutor cuts him off.

“So if I understand you correctly Miss Y/N was unable to read her boyfriend of many years. So how can we be sure she’d know if Chan was going to do something or not? If she can’t be trusted to speak up to someone she was so intimate with, how can speak up to someone she’s known for barely a month?” The prosecutor inquires rhetorically to the judge, before going to sit again.

Seungmin shaking his head and standing to take his place at questioning Changbin, “ Detective Seo it seems the prosecutor cut off the rest of your earlier statement, could you please finish it for us?”

“Sure, since she wanted out, but was concerned for her safety. I suggested how to handle things with her boyfriend at the time and gave her a number in case she needed police protection of any kind. On the way out she released the hybrids and afterward we met to give Chan medical aid.” Changbin finished and Seungmin nodded along as if in thought.

“Would you say this is the kind of thing you see often in your job? Where a criminal’s significant other gets pulled into situations such as this?” Seungmin’s next question is something you weren’t expecting but it gave you some hope of redemption.

“Without a doubt, a lot of criminals are excellent liars so they can keep what they do a secret for a long time. Then when they do finally reveal that world to their significant other they tend to put a lot of fear into them. Mostly to ensure their own protection. Scaring them into not speaking up or anything. Usually, it’s entirely justifiable too. When these people threaten things, they mean it. For example, in Miss Y/N’s case, her boyfriend forced his way into her apartment, invaded her privacy by trying to search her home, and even used physical force to try and coerce her into things after that night where I helped her get away. Had things escalated again we would have had to move both her and Chan to a safe house.” Changbin answers and Seungmin nods.

“So really, Y/N’s morals speak for themselves. As soon as she realized what was going on she freed the hybrids and stood up for what was right even at the price of her own safety.” Seungmin concluded before they let Changbin down from the stand. Him giving you both a small smile in passing.

Minho getting called up next. Putting the pressure on Chan now instead of you, not that it really helped your anxiety too much right now.

“So Dr. Lee, you first met Y/N and Chan when they came in after that fight to get him medical attention. Is that correct?” The prosecutor starts simple, before continuing after Minho voices his confirmation, “ Would you share with us some of the observations you made of Chan at the time?”

“I observed that his injuries appeared to be repeated injuries, likely from years of fighting. He also appeared to be dehydrated and not properly nourished, along with being somewhat agitated. Something not uncommon for someone in that amount of physical pain.” Minho explains and the prosecutor nods.

“What of his mental health? Did you make any observations about that?” The prosecutor presses and you know where he was going. Seungmin and Changbin had warned you they might try to argue that Chan needs to be in a facility after the way he’d been treated in the past.

“I am not authorized to make any observations other than basic of that sort. That being said I can request that a patient of mine go to receive a psych evaluation if I notice things seem to be an issue, based on the basic knowledge of that field I have. When Chan came in I deemed that was unnecessary. I simply suggested that both he and Miss Y/N look into therapy for various reasons as it might help.” Minho answers and that’s enough for the prosecutor to run with.

“Your honor, as you can see the doctor suggested therapy without that medical professional in their life can we actually be sure that their mental states are in a place where they would be safe in a home together?” The prosecutor presses before Jeongin dismisses him and invites Seungmin to question Minho if he chooses.

“Dr. Lee, could you please share with us your reasoning on why each of the defendants might benefit from therapy?” Seungmin inquires and Minho nods.

“In Chan’s case after all he went through it might be prudent to talk things out after them being bottled in for so long, or perhaps to find some underlying PTSD after what he went through. Allow him a way to adjust to having a free life again. In Y/N’s case, it would be due to what her boyfriend of the time did. How he lied to her and then betrayed her trust and even brought harm upon her. Since they have not known each other long, even if trust is there they may not have learned how to fully communicate or might not want to burden the other, which is where a therapist could assist.” Minho responds and Seungmin thanks him, allowing him to leave.

That’s when the real worries set in as the prosecutor sets his eyes on the pair of you, calling Chan up to be questioned first. Saving you for the very end.

“Chan, can you share with us what you remember of your life before the fight happened?” The prosecutor’s questioning Chan about a touchy subject and you know it, not knowing much yourself about his life before the fights.

“I don’t remember much. My parents weren’t around for long, they were sold off when I was little. When I got a little older that family got a new hybrid, a younger one, and threw me out. It was pretty much the streets and then being taken to the fights.” Chan does surprisingly well at staying calm you notice, more so than you would likely do in his shoes.

“So the fights weren’t the first stroke of bad luck you’ve had in life then?” The prosecutor’s question makes Chan roll his eyes.

“Well I was born a hybrid, so no not really. Bad luck tends to follow us around in this society.” Chan huffs softly, slightly more irritated at that question. Making the prosecutor smirk at getting under his skin for a moment.

“How would you say that has impacted your daily life then?” The prosecutor presses further but doesn’t get what he’s looking for in immediate action as Chan calms down again.

“To be honest, it haunts me. A feeling of guilt knowing that you did things you didn’t want because there wasn’t a choice. The pain of losing the few friends you had. The memories of the things you’ve seen and lived through.” Chan answers and the prosecutor nods, turning him over to Seungmin.

“I just have one question for you Chan, that’s it. How would you say that Y/N impacts your daily life?” Seungmin questions and for the first time today, you think you see Chan genuinely smile some.

“Well for starters she taught me not to hate all humans, along with a few other friends I’ve made. Which is another thing she taught me how to make friends again, I don’t have to be afraid of losing them. Or be afraid that all humans will treat me the way I have been before. For once I’m actually happy and she’s teaching me about the world. How to be a part of society and stuff, well as best we could while hiding out until the ring was taken care of and it was safe to go out. I can take care of myself and others even for the first time in my life, plus I feel like I have a life now.” Chan smiles at you and if this were any other time you might let yourself get emotional.

You know that right now you have to stay calm though. That you have to keep it together considering that you’re going to be called up next.

“Miss Y/N, do you have any history working with police or anything similar in nature to your current involvement?” The prosecutor asks and when you respond with no he continues, “What about history when being around or working with hybrids?”

“No, I don’t have any history with that either.” You respond softly, worried that any answer you give might just be what changes things for you and Chan again.

“Then this must all be quite daunting for you, isn’t it?” The prosecutor continues and you shrug softly.

“I mean...at first it was yes. I’m used to it now though. I feel better too, knowing I did what was right and helped people as best that I could.” You respond honestly, knowing that he was just getting started.

“So would you say you have it all figured out then? That you know how to handle anything that comes up with Chan perfectly?” The prosecutor presses.

“Well...no, but-” You go to defend yourself, yet he cuts you off before you can finish much like he’d done earlier with Changbin.

“As you can see your honor, they don’t really know what they’re doing when together. They have good intentions, yes, but there are too many unknowns between the two of them.” The prosecutor takes his seat.

Seungmin comes up to you, offering a small smile, “Miss Y/N can you please finish what you were saying before the prosecution interrupted your statement?”

You give a small nod, “I was going to say that while I don’t know what I’m doing perfectly that’s normal. I’m human, I’m naturally imperfect. Mistakes happen, but I’m willing to try my best, and if a mistake does happen to take responsibility for that. Just like with anything else in life.”

Seungmin hums, “Since you mentioned responsibility would you mind sharing with us what has been on your plate this last month or so? What all have you been responsible for?”

“Sure, it wasn’t safe to be out too much either of us. Especially Chan though, in case someone from the ring spotted us and followed us back. So I would go to work, pick up any groceries on the way home. Or just anything that either of us needed. Then at home, I would make sure we’d eaten and taken care of anything needed for the detectives or the doctor so that I could take it to them the next day. Or arrange an appointment at a time when we could discreetly get Chan there in a safe way.” You answer easily, used to the routine after so long.

“And you did this every day?” Seungmin continues, making you nod softly.

“Yeah, every day except for Sundays. Usually anyways, Sundays we tried to relax or I would try to teach Chan something new.” You respond and Seungmin smiles helping you down and letting you know that you did well.

“Very well, we’ll take a thirty-minute recess to review everything that has been presented. Afterward, we’ll have closing statements, followed by the verdict.” Jeongin announces before the recess begins.

One of the guys brought you both water as they all tried to encourage you, saying they thought it would turn out well for you both. You still weren’t as positive though and Chan could tell, squeezing your hand he leans in.

“It’ll be okay. No matter what you did your best and we can be friends either way.” He whispers his reassurance and you find yourself giving a small smile for his sake.

Thirty minutes was both too long and not long enough. Dragging it out made you more anxious and yet you weren’t sure you wanted to know what the verdict was. You tuned out the final statements, not processing that at this point. Your focus was solely on the judge as you waited to hear what decision had been made.

Jeongin clearing his throat and looked between both sides of the room before beginning to speak, “After analyzing everything and deliberation it has been decided Bang Chan will be allowed to remain with Y/L/N Y/N, however, they will attend 12 hours of mandatory therapy to assist with these new circumstances.” He nods at you and Chan, “And I’ll see you both bright and early for that case against the hybrid fighting ring. Until then, stay safe and don’t cause any trouble.”

You look at Chan stunned, until he happily pulls you into his arms and hugs you with a laugh, “I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about!”

You chuckle and nod, “ You did, but still it’s a lot.”

Seungmin smiles at you both, “I’ll see you later to discuss the other cases, until then just enjoy this. Detectives Seo and Hwang will escort you home. I believe they had something to discuss with you anyways.”

“Come on we’re going out the back. There’s a crowd out front and they won’t be too happy when they heard what the verdict on your case just now was.” Hyunjin tells you both before leading the way. Changbin following behind you both just in case.

“Okay, what was it that you two wanted to talk to us about though?” You question as you follow their lead easily.

“Ah, about that...it seems someone who works with the ring is still out. So for your safety, we’re going to be moving the both of you to a safe house until after the trial, unless we can secure the suspect sooner.” Changbin admits, sighing softly, “You can get your things from home, and then we can take you there.”

Chan helped you to get your things out of the car and into the safe house. The two of you sitting on the couch while Hyunjin and Changbin made sure the house hadn’t been compromised in any way before letting you both get settled. They had taken care of your work and everything for you so that you both could get to the safe house and made arrangements for anything else that would be necessary while you were in the safehouse.

Hyunjin rubs the back of your neck as he comes over, “So since we didn’t have much time to get this together this place only had one bedroom...one of you can probably take the couch, but even off shift at least Changbin or I will be here to supervise the officers and make sure you’re both safe...so we might be sleeping here too. I guess basically what I’m trying to say is there’s not enough beds or couches for everyone.”

You blush a little, but wave him off, “I mean Chris and I are probably okay sharing a room if you and Changbin are okay taking rotations on the couch or something...if that’s okay with everyone else?”

Chan chuckles and nods, “Yeah I don’t mind, that’s pretty much what we did at the apartment for a few weeks anyway.”

Hyunjin nods and sends you and Chan off in the direction of the room to get settled. You finish up before Chan, sitting on the bed and watching him finish up. Chan looked over at you and laughed softly.

“So what do you want to do now? Read a book?” Chan snickers flopping down beside you.

“I don’t know that we’ll find any entertaining ones around this house.” You laugh a little yourself, “Probably should have thought about that a little bit more when they said we’d have no phones or internet for three weeks.”

“Yeah probably, we’ll find something to do, for now though, I’m gonna go let them know that we’re all good and see if there’s anything else we’re supposed to do before trying to gain some semblance of normalcy here.” Chan smiles at you, reaching out to gently brush your hair out of your face before getting up to leave the room again. In effect, leaving you all alone for now.

After a moment you got up, glancing towards the window. You thought for a moment before deciding to take a peek through the blinds. Nothing that would risk you being seen, just enough to take in your surroundings for now. Hearing the door you turn to face Chan with furrowed brows.

“Get away from there, it’s not safe to be around the windows.” Chan calmly says watching you step away and picking up on your confusion, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Who are the men that just showed up outside the house? Are they more officers?” You try to keep your voice from shaking. The way Chan’s eyes widen at you your question doesn’t help the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach though.

He quickly takes your place, ears twitching as he sneaks a lookout. Before grabbing you and pulling you out of the room. Startling Changbin, Hyunjin, and the others who were there to protect you.

“Four armed men just pulled up. I’m guessing by the look of them that they aren’t with you.” Chan growls out before his ear twitches again, hearing a sound from outside.

He’s quick to drop to the ground with you in his arms. His body wrapped around you for protection as gunshots rang out. His hearing gave him a split-second advantage to get you two in a safer area, even if it still wasn’t a good place to be in. Hyunjin and Changbin round the corner to meet you not long after, guns are drawn and keeping an eye towards the front.

"Are you two alright?" Changbin asks while Hyunjin covers you before having to reload. When both of you voice that you're so far unscathed he continues, "There's no way we're making it out the front with how many guys there are. We're going to have to go out back before they can surround us. When I tell you two to go, run. Outback and look for a car. Don't look back and if we aren't right behind you then just go. Head straight to the police station and let them know what happened."

"Alright." Chan nods, grip firm on your arm, ready to get you out of there as soon as Changbin tells you both to run.

"Go now!" Changbin tells you as for him and Hyunjin lay down cover fire for your escape. About the time you reach the door you hear him cry out in pain though. Looking back you see Changbin hit the ground, leg bleeding from a gunshot wound as Hyunjin tries to cover you and drag him towards the back door.

"Chris they're not gonna make it." You gasp, causing him to glance back as well.

He's quick to shove you out the door, growling out a demand, "Go. Find a car. We're right behind you."

As much as you didn't want to leave them you'd never heard Chan speak to you like that before and your body was on autopilot, listening to what he told you to do right now. Searching outside before finding a somewhat trashy car abandoned between the fence and a rotted out shed. It didn’t matter much what it looked like though as long as it ran well enough to get you all to safety. Wasting no time you run over, yanking open the rusty driver’s door. Sliding in you scour the area for keys, thanking the heavens when you drop the visor and they fall into your lap. Wishing with all you have as the car stalls that you��ll get lucky again. You pause for a moment, before trying again as you see Chan helping Changbin out the door, followed by Hyunjin. Right as panic was setting in the car roared to life, letting you pull forward to let the other get in.

“Drive. I’ll guide you straight to the hospital. Don’t stop for anything. I’ve called it in, so we should be getting an escort meeting up with us along the way.” Hyunjin tells you his arm out the window, firing at the house still.

You waste no time peeling out, following Hyunjin’s direction until the flashing lights of cop cars end up ahead of you and lead the way themselves. Pulling into the ER in a flurry of chaos. You and Chan try to follow Hyunjin and Changbin in, only to have cops stop you, insisting on taking you to a new safe house.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s going to be okay. Besides. Do you even know how they found the last safe house? Until you know I’m just as safe here as I would be at a safe house.” You counter, holding your ground with a stern look.

“We’re. I’m staying with her, and the detectives.” Chan adds, hand moving to rest on the small of your back and guide you through the group of officers and into the hospital.

You sat waiting in the room with Hyunjin and Chan, staring down at your hands still waiting for word from the surgery Changbin had been in to remove the bullet and repair the damage. Chan’s hand sliding over your shoulder as he offers you a cup of coffee.

“I have a feeling you won’t really be sleeping much tonight, so you might need this.” Chan’s voice is soft, his gentle side showing through again and it almost brings you to tears. Looking between him and Hyunjin who both seem rather calm, nursing their own cups.

“How can you be so okay right now? We don’t even know if he’s going to be okay.” You whimper. Chan shushing you as his arm slips further around your shoulders pulling you closer to him, his warmth surrounding you like a blanket.

“As much as it sucks...what’s happened, happened. There’s no changing it now. We have to live with it now, there’s no other option. It’s hell, but you get used to it...well in your case I hope you never have to, but some of us get used to it.” Hyunjin sighs softly, looking down at the black liquid in his cup as he swirls it, “As for Changbin, he’s gonna be okay.”

“How can you be sure?” You ask, Chan, rubbing away your tears almost as quickly as they’re falling.

“Because...it’s Changbin...and because he has to be okay.” Hyunjin gives you a small forced smile, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself along with you.

Your shoulders slumped, bag dropping to the ground as you and Chan entered the safe house. Hyunjin trailing behind as he checked the perimeter once again.

Changbin looks up from his spot on the couch and chuckles softly, “The day went that well huh?”

You sigh shaking your head, “Did you hear the verdict yet? The judge had us leave before they went into deliberation so that hopefully we could get through the crowds and back here quicker. Even out the back way though it took us an hour to even get past the protestors...I was really worried...I expected more people to be there for hybrid rights, but it seems like everyone was on the opposite side today.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be there with you guys today. After the second day, the judge said they wouldn’t need me anymore and that I should rest instead.” Changbin frowns, “People were supporting hybrid rights though, they were just on the opposite side of the street. So they must not have been visible the way you went out...they were certainly much calmer than everyone against them anyways. I’m glad you guys got back okay.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Next time, I’m the one taking the bullet.”

“Oh don’t worry there won’t be a next time.” Chan shakes his head lightly, heading to the kitchen to get you both some water, “How’d the physical therapy go today Changbin?”

“Average for physical therapy...it’s hell in the moment, but after a bit, things go back to normal.” Changbin shrugs as Hyunjin joins you three inside. His radio is going off as the station contacts him.

“Turn the TV on, they’re about to announce the verdict,” Hyunjin informs the rest of you.

You go to stand by Chan’s side as he puts down the bottles, turning to look at the television from his place in the kitchen. Changbin quickly turned it on and changed the channel to where they’d be able to get the announcement. Your hand clutching Chan’s tightly, gnawing at your lip. Finally releasing your breath when the guilty verdict was announced, most of the group getting a sentence of twenty years to life, a few with less or opportunity for probation. That would be something to take care of when the time comes though, for now, the fact was that they couldn’t get to you, Chan, or any of the other hybrids now.

You throw your arms around Chan before realizing what you were doing. He’s quick to slip his own arms around your center though as if it was the most natural thing for the two of you to do. Chan nuzzling at your hair taking in your scent, one of his biggest comforts since all of this started. Before he’s pulling back to look into your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re safe now! And free!” You beam up at him, a few tears of joy glittering in your eyes as he smiles back at you.

“No we’re safe now, and free to do whatever we want without worry or looking over our shoulder.” Chan’s eyes never leave yours as he finds himself leaning in.

His eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. His lips brushing against yours as he pauses for a moment, searching for any hesitance from you. Instead, you close the last of the space keeping you apart, pressing your lips against his. A kiss he’s been waiting for...that you’ve both been waiting for, and now that it’s finally here neither of you is holding back any longer. Chan’s lips devouring yours, craving more of your taste already. The two of you pulling away only to breathe, not even care about your audience currently. Panting as you look wordlessly at each other, cheeks flushed with heat.

“Two down, just one to go. Afterward, you’ll be free to do that in public too.” Hyunjin chuckles as you and Chan finally look to the two detectives whose eyes long left the television in favor of you.

“I’m not worried about it...I have a good feeling about all that’s to come.” Chan honestly responds before beaming at you again, “Especially some things.”

You didn’t like sitting behind Chan in the courtroom for a change. You didn’t necessarily like sitting in the courtroom at all, but at least beside him, you could hold his hand as some form of comfort. Felix glances at you from his spot beside you, gently grabbing your hand to give it a small squeeze.

“He did really good, and he’s fine even with you back here. I’m sure it’ll be a good verdict.” Felix whispers his assurances to you. Chan’s ears twitch as he picks us the conversation and glances back at you, winking at you with a small smile.

“You helped out a lot too Felix. I don’t think we would have been able to do this without you, especially when you were a good example up on the stand. So thank you.” You squeeze his hand back, making him shrug.

“Hey, anything for family. Though now that you guys are like family I hope you know you’re stuck with us now.” Felix giggles making the others agree quietly.

“For good at that.” Jisung adds chuckling softly, “But you two better quiet down, the judge is coming back.”

You’re rigid, but also practically trembling in anticipation as you wait to hear the court’s decision. Knowing that no matter what you’d always stand by Chan’s side, yet wishing for a positive answer for his sake either way.

Jeongin cleared his throat, pausing as he always did before announcing the verdict, “This court has decided after deliberation to grant Bang Chan full citizenship and rights. If he so chooses to legally change his name from what was given to him in a hybrid facility he can do so at the same time as he signs the citizenship papers. This court is dismissed.”

Felix hugs you before helping you make your way up to where Chan is, “ Congratulations. We’ll see you this weekend for a proper celebration, but until then you two have fun...and be safe.”

You playfully smack his arm at his suggestive teasing, “Whatever. We’ll see you guys this weekend. Be careful getting out of here, it’s crazy outside.”

The others nod as you move to Chan’s side, hugging his side as he looks over the papers. Changbin and Seungmin there as witnesses to sign the papers in addition to Chan and the judge.

“Congratulations. Is there a new name you’d like to legally have?” Jeongin inquires pointing to the blank area where Chan could put in whatever name he’d like to take on.

“Christopher. Christopher Bang.” He smiles at you knowingly as he writes it down before they finish signing everything.

You both shake hands with the judge as he congratulates you both again. Before doing the same with Seungmin, thanking him excessively for all he did to help you both.

“Alright, let's finally get you two home again...it’s been a long month.” Changbin chuckles, leading the way to the car that already had all of your stuff in it, ready to be taken back into your apartment once again.

The car took quite a beating on the way out. Those against the decision throwing things at it in protest, until those who were there in favor of equal rights for hybrids stepped in to help your car safely get out and away from the irate group. Your head falling to rest on Chan’s shoulder relieved that all this was finally over and went well so that you could be home and back into your routine once more. Though no doubt with a few changes now too...not that you’d give them up for anything.

The drive took longer than expected, but you made it nonetheless. Kicking off your shoes as you step into the familiar and yet somewhat forgotten home. Stepping deeper into it knowing that Chan was following behind, stretching and checking your phone that was now in your possession once more. Eyes still glued to it as you turned around towards Chan again.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” You question scrolling through apps for your favorite takeout places.

“I know what I’ll be having,” Chan growls out, in the same voice he had when he told you to leave the safe house. The voice that lit a fire in your gut and had your eyes snapping up to meet his darkening ones.

You don’t get much time to read the feelings filling his eyes though before he takes your phone and puts it aside so as not to distract you anymore. Closing the little gap remaining with a searing kiss. Not having any patience or games, having waited long enough for you by now. Something your heart, mind, and body wholeheartedly agreed with as you feel your arousal starting to pool between your legs. Chan easily picks up the scent of it and nips somewhat harshly at your lower lip with a rumbling growl.

Chan’s arms slip around you and lift your, heading back towards the bedroom, “Fuck, I’m so glad this isn’t illegal anymore...not that it would have stopped me anyway, but still.”

Your giggle is cut short by his lips finding yours again. This kiss is much shorter than the last, but not less heated. Simply ending when Chan tosses you back onto the bed, crawling over your form as his eyes take you in.

“Remind me why we didn’t do this sooner? It’s obvious we both wanted it.” Chan’s question is wanting an answer, yet he’s not making it easy for you to give it as he nips over your neck soothing the little marks with his tongue and lips.

“Because...because we weren’t alone...the others were right outside the room and could have come in at any time.” You pant, already getting more worked up by his actions. Chan’s growl turns into a chuckle as he notices your legs spreading on instinct, already so eager despite still being fully clothed.

“You say that like I would fucking care. I didn’t care if they heard...or saw because at the end of the day you’re mine and it would have just proved that to them...besides I might have been gentler if I had not had to hold back for so long. I don’t know that I can anymore though.” Chan’s teeth are still against your throat, drawing out soft mewls from your lips and teasing you by rutting his clothed bulge against your thigh.

“Then don’t hold back. You’re always talking like you’re the big bad wolf and like I should be so scared of you, so show me what the worst you can do is.” You taunt knowing him well enough to know that just that little bit will be all it takes for him to fully snap.

His hands gripping onto the hem of the dress you wore to court today, ripping it down the middle with no concerns other than getting to your skin beneath it. Giving you no time to argue as he nips over your chest now. Your hands are moving to try and work on pushing off his suit jacket and gripping at his hair.

Chan pulls away snarling at you and pinning your hands, “I don’t think so kitten. You made me wait, so now it’s your turn to wait. And it would be in your best interest to do so too, cause little disobedient kittens don’t get what they want.”

If the scent of your arousal building at the way he grumbled out that threat didn’t give you away to him then the growing wet patch on your panties certainly did. Chan licks his lips and smirks softly at you before deciding to make things a little more challenging for you, tossing his jacket aside. His tie, however, he lays close by on the bed for when you inevitably snap and disobey him. He tugs his shirt off next, with almost as much force as he had your dress, sending buttons flying across the room. His mouth on your chest again, hands gripping firmly at your sides for a moment before trailing up over your form to remove your bra.

Chan pinches one of your pebbled nipples, earning a quiet hiss from you, “Hm so sensitive for me, aren’t you? Trust me you’ll only be getting more sensitive as the night goes on.”

He nips at your other nipple, before suckling softly, fingers eager to give your other nipple equal pleasure. His eyes locked on your face for a reaction as he switches sides, growling in his chest around your nipple when he watches your hands moving down towards him again, his only form of warning to you.

Chan knew if he kept it up though it would only be a matter of time before you gave in and touched him again. He was counting on it. Trailing his mouth lower as his hands ripped your panties off and out of his way. Tongue darting out to flick over your clit, raising a brow at you as your legs fall open and hips twitch up towards his mouth. His hands are quick to hold you firmly in place before fully pressing his face against your core, tongue curling deep into you with little growls and grunts sending vibrations through your core. Chan intent on getting every drop of you on his tongue as he possibly could even as your arousal builds more and more, slicking up his face.

He’s mildly impressed at the fact that you manage to keep your hands to yourself even while trembling in need on the precipice of your impending orgasm. It only encourages him to go harder though, sucking on your clit as he suddenly presses two fingers into you, curling them perfectly against your spot. What finally sent you over that blissful edge though was when his teeth grazed over your clit with the tiniest bit of pressure.

Through your fucked out haze of pleasure you didn’t realize you’d reached down and weaved your hands into his hair until a few moments after Chan had helped you through your release. Looking up at you all too pleased with himself at getting you to finally snap and touch him again.

He grabs your wrists and moves your hands away from him again, “I warned you kitten, now get on your hands and knees.”

“But Chris-” Your whining gets cut off with a sharp cry as he swats at your thigh.

“No buts, now do it before you get yourself into more trouble kitty,” Chan growls, this time it’s a bit more playful though. Letting you know this had been his plan all along and things were going exactly how he’d hoped.

His fingertips tap down your spine as his other hand grabs the tie he’d laid aside. Before doing anything else though his hand crashes down on your ass, hard enough to leave a lasting sting but the pain bleeds into pleasure and it makes him snicker when he can tell you liked it. His hands gripping your wrists to bring them behind your back and tie them together with his tie.

“Filthy little kitten, now you have no choice but to listen.” Chan taunts spanking the other cheek now, before kissing over the sensitive flesh before biting instead.

His desire to fuck you senseless is on the verge of driving him to insanity, but now that he’s had a taste of you he won’t be satisfied unless he makes up for all the previous times he’s wanted a taste of you too. His hands gripping your ass and spreading you open more to give himself unrestrained access to you. Not wasting another second before his mouth is on your core again. Using to his advantage every sensitive spot he learned from your first orgasm while also looking for more to bring you to your next. Pulling away after that one to lap up what he’d missed that had dripped down your thighs, knowing he wouldn’t have the restraint to hold himself back for much longer. He was sure he’d be able to bring you to a third orgasm before that little thread of restraint left snapped though. The determination makes him return to your core with fervor. Like a man starved...which in a way he had been, just not starved of food, just of you.

You’re still trembling from your third and latest orgasm when you hear shuffling behind you before his tip is running through your folds. Collecting your wetness before pushing in as slowly as he can bear for your sake, wanting to let you adjust and not hurt you. His hands gripping at your hips before moving, slowly at first, once he hears your soft moans starting to fill the room, however, he picks up the pace. His hips slapping against your ass, watching the way it moves and enticing him to spank you again. The action makes you clench around him, crying out and clawing at the tie around your wrist at his hard thrusts and the way his hand meets your ass, making him quickly repeat the action, growing out as you clench around him again.

“Fuck...you’re so fucking perfect....so filthy and you love how I’m treating you right now don’t you kitten? Go on, scream my name, let everyone know how good I’m treating you.” Chan grips at your bound wrists, pulling you back into each of his thrusts. His other hand reaching around to rub at your clit, “Shit, you’re going to cum for me again aren’t you? Gonna cream all over my big fucking cock, huh? Do it kitten, but don’t think the night will be over just cause you do.”

This time when you cum Chan doesn’t slow down for a second, if anything he does the opposite. His hand leaves your wrists to slip around your throat and pull you up against his chest. Angling his thrusts to brush against your spot each time as he feels himself getting close to his own edge, but refusing to go over it without you cumming again too. His hips stuttering as he feels your pussy spasming around him on the brink of release once again.

“It’s okay, kitten. Let it go. You’ve done so good for me.” Chan whispers in your ear, nuzzled against your neck as he encourages you to fall into a world of pleasure one final time tonight. He bites down on your neck, roaring out against it as he cums shortly after, riding you both through your highs.

His hands carefully undo your bound hands as he gently lays you down on the bed, slipping away to go get a washcloth. He’s gentle as he cleans between your legs before grabbing a sweatshirt and some panties for you, in just sweatpants himself. Chan leans in gently stroking the hair away from your face, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll help you get cleaned up more later...for now though...how about we seriously think about dinner?” Chan chuckles before blushing a little, “Not that there’s really anything to talk about though...considering I already ordered your favorite. My timing is damn good too, I scheduled it for five minutes from now.”

You laugh, shaking your head slightly at him and playfully smacking his shoulder, “Five whole minutes? Hm you mean you had time to make me cum again and you didn’t?”

Your teasing makes Chan growl and playfully nip at your ear, “Careful what you say kitten, we still have a whole night at our disposal. Who said anything about stopping before sunrise?”

He gets up to go answer the door at the knock, winking at you before his eyes rake over your form again, licking his lips. You two would certainly be celebrating and making up for lost time tonight.

#bang chan smut #bang chan imagine #bang chan oneshot #bang chan x reader #christopher bang smut #christopher bang imagine #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Ever Since We Met

Prologue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After making a bet with Odin, Loki finally has a chance to prove he is worthy of being heir to the throne. Under mysterious circumstances, you find yourself stranded on Asgard, left with no option but to team up with Loki and help him win the crown. Now posing as visiting royalty, you must be careful of rumors in court that say you’re not who you claim, all while battling your growing feelings for the raven haired king. But some things are easier said than done because secrets, you’ll soon learn, can be deadly. Chapter Summary: Before Odin leaves for Alfheim, Loki makes one final bid for the throne. A bet that has the power to alter his future. Chapter Warnings: none :) A/N: Greetings guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I am beyond excited to share this story with you! It takes place pre-Thor 1 and will update every Friday until we reach the end in about six months. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

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Disclaimer: Gif not mine.

Thankfully, the halls outside the throne room were empty, leaving plenty of space for Loki to pace back and forth. He never would have let his anxious energy show in front of others, but right now it was just him. The guards had gone in to announce Loki to his father, gain permission for him to enter. It was ridiculous that he couldn’t just waltz in, the prince thought. Then again, that’s all he was. A prince. Not the king.

See, Loki had been trying his whole life to prove his worth to his father, desperately attempting to show he was deserving of the throne. But nothing had worked, and whispers that Odin was going to announce his heir any day now were common throughout the kingdom. And not a single person was saying it was going to be Loki. Luckily, the younger Odinson didn’t give up so easily.

“Prince Loki,” one of the guards said with a little bow of his head as they re-emerged from the throne room. Loki immediately stopped his nervous movement and looked him in the eye. “The king will see you now.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Loki replied, regal as ever. “As you were.”

Taking a final gulp of air, he pushed through the heavy golden doors and walked towards Odin. As a child, Loki had always thought his father looked so imposing sitting on the throne, as if he had in his palm the fate of all people. Well, now Loki was grown, and he knew that the old man sitting in that glorified chair did hold someone’s fate. His. And if Loki wasn’t careful, Odin would crush his dreams, his destiny, without so much as batting an eye.

Loki’s heeled boots clicked on the cold floor, as if counting down the steps left before he could make his request. They were, perhaps, a bit more formal than something one might wear on a regular basis, but he figured why not dress to impress? His semi-formal cloak swooshed behind him, and he had to resist anxiously fiddling with the fabric. With his hair slicked back and combed perfectly in place, he thought he looked very princely, but if all went well, he was going to be far more than that.

“Your majesty,” he greeted Odin in the formal way he’d been taught since birth, bowing at his waist. Oh, how he so despised that part; if he had it his way, he’d never bow to anyone again. At least he didn’t have to kneel as most of the lesser nobles and commoners did.

“Rise my son,” Odin said with a wave of his hand. “Why have you felt the need for this audience so close to my departure?”

“Well, father,” Loki began. He summoned all his strength to keep up his nonchalant facade. “It has come to my attention that you have invited Thor to join you and mother on your diplomatic mission to Alfheim. An invitation, I might add, that he has accepted.”

“Yes, yes,” he yawned. “What of it? I hope you are not looking to come. The convoy is already full.”

“On the contrary, I think it best if I stay here.” Loki studied his father’s expression a moment before continuing. “To rule the kingdom.”

It was painfully silent in the near-empty throne room. And then Odin began laughing. Not chuckling, but full on laughing at his son. This was perhaps the most embarrassed Loki had ever felt, and there wasn’t even anyone else in the room. But all he wanted was to show his father he was capable of ruling. That he would make a far more competent king than his oaf of a brother. This was a critical moment, he knew, and he couldn’t let any cracks in his armor show. He kept his face completely neutral as his father slowly ceased his cackling.

“And why should I allow for that. You see, Loki, I have already chosen my successor, and it is not you,” Odin bluntly explained as Loki’s blood began to boil and hopes began to drop. Maybe this was just a nightmare, and he’d wake up to make his plea for real. No such luck. “The official announcement was going to come upon my return, but it seems cruel to keep it from you now.”

All the times Loki played this out in his head, it never went quite this poorly. Never in his wildest dreams had he been expecting Odin to admit what he already knew deep down; he’d lost. But all his training, his preparing, his effort to show that he was the one deserving of the crown, could it really be for nothing?

“Come now, my son,” Odin said when Loki took too long to reply. He wondered if his father was trying to have a comforting tone. If he was, he was failing miserably. “You always knew I would have to pick one of you. That only one of you could take the mighty throne of Asgard.”

Yes, but I should be the victor, Loki thought, ignoring the tears pricking the back of his eyes. The last thing he would do was cry in front of the Allfather. Especially when he still had a chance to make this work in his favor. All he had to do was keep it together for the next fifteen minutes and alter his argument a little. If Odin was taking drastic measures, maybe that’s what he had to do, too.

“I do not think you should act so rashly, father,” Loki spoke up, voice impressively even. “After all, you have yet to hear my proposition.”

“And what might that be? Speak, son, and tell me.”

“Let me rule Asgard while you are gone. If I do well, you wait to make your decision on who will be your heir, allow me to continue to compete for the crown.”

The old king laughed again, not as loudly as before, but just as unkindly. “Why would I do that? I see no way in which this benefits me.”

“On the contrary, as a prince, I would have the right to plead my case to the Allmother if you took me out of the running. It would be a long, tedious process if you had to go through all the right channels to prove my brother is better suited for the kingship. And then again, they might not even find that he is. Or I could even challenge Thor for the crown, if it comes down to it. Such scandal to mark the end of your reign would be a shame, do you not agree?” He paused for dramatic effect, and to let the words sink in. “However, should I do poorly on the throne, I would have no argument to make, and would back down peacefully.”

The tension was so thick, Loki was tempted to whip out one of his daggers to try to cut it, and give himself room to breathe. But even the subtlest of movements would give way to an accusation of weakness, so he stood where he was, his piercing gaze staring into his father’s one eye, waiting for him to speak. Odin tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne, mulling over the very thinly veiled threat. By the time the king was opening his mouth to speak, Loki felt ready to scream.

“Very well,” he finally conceded. “But your success will be according to my terms. There are three things a good king needs. The first is the respect of those he rules. The second, fear and awe of his enemies and allies alike.”

Loki’s eyes flitted down for the briefest of seconds before looking up with renewed confidence. “And the last?”

“Worthiness,” Odin continued, standing up and walking down the steps, “to have the crown on his head.”

More eagerly than he would have liked, Loki nodded. He was certainly clever enough to figure out a way to prove he had each of those. It seemed that his silver tongue had not failed him today. But before he could say he accepted the terms, Odin had one last stipulation to add.

“You may not set foot out of the kingdom. Everything must run smoothly while you are here. Is this understood?”

“Yes, father, it is. And you will not interfere with my reign,” Loki replied, distrusting something about the look in the old man’s eye. “So then, do we have a deal?”

He considered for a moment more. “Yes, we do. From the moment I leave tomorrow until the second I return, you will be acting king of Asgard.”

“Thank you, father. You will not regret this,” Loki said, bowing again before leaving.

Whether he left before his father could say anything or if he never planned to at all, Loki wasn’t sure. It hardly mattered anymore. Now, his future was nearly set, for certainly he was already admired to some degree, right? Or even if he wasn’t, he’d been preparing for this day his whole life, studying his father. He knew how to be king, and he’d be damned if he let anything ruin this opportunity.

After a fitful night of sleep, Loki saw his family and their entourage off at the Bifröst. True, he was more than eager for them to leave already, but he did his best to mask it. After all, his eagerness may be mistaken for arrogance, and that was no way to start his reign.

“Alright, brother. I bid thee well,” Thor said, clapping him on the back. As far as Loki was aware, neither he nor anyone else knew of the specifics of the bet that had been made, save for his mother and Heimdall, who had been tasked with keeping an eye on him. “Do not get too comfortable on the throne, though.”

“Good luck, my son. I have every confidence in you,” Frigga said, cupping his cheeks.

Loki looked to Odin for him to speak some final words of parting. When he didn’t, Loki said, “Thank you, brother, mother. I wish you all safe travels and shall be awaiting your return.”

He waited until they disappeared into the rainbow lights and, with a nod in Heimdall’s direction, headed back towards the palace. The throne. Almost reverently, he circled it once before sitting down. Feeling perfectly pleased with himself, Loki didn’t even notice the bright flash of light in the distance. Nor what came with it.

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH.2

Getting back to your little one story cottage, you can only manage to rush in and run about in a mad dash as you try to accomplish getting ready for work and getting something to eat. Running through choices in your head as you change and freshen up, nothing sounds good. There's not much time since your shift starts at nine and to make it to the store you need to leave by eight twenty. You got home at eight fifteen, and while Nate, your manager, has never seemed to give a fuck what you did at work you're still in your probationary period and would like to keep the easiest job you've ever had.

It's a really simple gig, seeing as the store you work at is actually a front for some illegal activity. The variety of crime you aren't sure of, but you are aware there's no way you guys do no business and yet they can afford to pay thirty dollars an hour. Thankfully just keeping your mouth shut and being nice to little Jo, the owner's daughter, is enough to keep you in the cushiest job in the world. The store's front is a regular old book store, all the books are real, the registers work, you're able to sell books and you've run to the bank to do the weekly deposits twice for Book & Nook. The front is very legitimate or it would be if the amount of customers ever equaled the sales made.

Again you don't ask questions, because for thirty dollars an hour you get to goof off for a couple hours a day, plus you get a bonus when you watch little Jo at the shop. She's a real sweet eleven year old, she's got tourettes and took a shine to you the first time she saw you tic. While you both might not suffer the same disorder she finds the common ground nice, like it's not just her. It's not even hard to watch her or enjoy her company, she'll come bouncing in with her excited chittering and hands clapping spilling all the latest gossip that comes with being in middle school. And boy is there a lot of gossip.

It's really nice seeing that Jo has friends at school and is even considered a “popular” kid. You remember how tough school was because no one understood you and teachers never cared enough about your personality to bring up the fact that it was clear to most faculty members that you had Autism. You excelled academically so what did it matter if you got picked on for oversharing information or for finishing assignments the minute they were handed to you. As bittersweet as the parallels are you're so glad Jo doesn't have to go through that. Never would have thought a southern school could be so accepting, much less a middle school at that.

Tearing through the kitchen you honestly can't find anything that you want to eat right now. And even after a long night of hiking/dissociating you don't think you're that peckish at all. Figuring it's best to at least take something to quell any future nausea you grab a Pedialyte Pop from the freezer. As fast as you entered your home you left, and not before ensuring twice that the door was locked and secured. While living on the outskirts of town saves you from many potential robberies, and worse salesmen, there's still the chance of some lunatic with an ax hiding out in a closet to murder you. Better safe now than sorry later.

Pulling into park behind the shop right at nine is a blessing. You run into the shop to clock in blurting out a quick 'Morning' to Nate, who was carrying a particularly large box, as you passed by him. In a flash you were back at your car retrieving your newly prized deer skull. Lungs burning a bit from the all out sprint you just did you took a little extra time to close the trunk and lock your car up to catch your breath, and avoid any light headiness you might get from the empty stomach workout. Eager to share the wonders of death with your best work friends, and by that you mean Nate your manager...and only other coworker, you rush back into the building.

The shop was quiet as usual as you made your way through the door though you were in the back room where only employees could roam you had the slightest suspicion that the front of shop was just the same. It's there you find Nate, now lugging a medium sized box around to a side table. He did this a lot you suspect some type of smuggling but hey plausible deniability and all those legal matters. The taller dark haired man sees you and just as he's about to wave you over, notices your prize with a raised brow.

“The fuck d'you bring in the store?” he doesn't seem amused by whatever it is he thinks you're up to. “Deer skull.” Lifting it up in one hand and pointing at it, “Found this guy on my hike last night...or rather this morning actually.”

“YN, we talked about this, you said you'd get some sleep last night. No adventures remember.” he's only two years older than you and yet he acts as if he's ten years. He must be an old soul, or enjoys the role of care giver...or you're making him go gray prematurely, anything's possible.

“Eh, I remember saying I'd 'try' and get sleep.” for someone who's body is running on fumes your cheekiness is astronomical, “operative word being 'try', remember.”

It's a long silence as Nate decides if he wants to deal with your bullshit at this moment. After a minute or so he concedes leaning back on the table behind him. “Let's hear it.” and you perk up immediately.

“Cool, so I was walking along the tree line and spotted him, tried to find more but seems there's only one piece. Judging by the size of his antlers I'd say he was nearly fully grown. Now my plan is to do whatever treatments taxidermists do to bones and,” you continue to word vomit at the tired twenty-six year old in front of you, about the joys and wonders of taxidermy and the likely hood of ever finding a skull so nicely preserved.

“I can do that in here right?” even though it's been phrased as a question, you aren't asking permission, you're just being polite and letting Nate know the storage room will house your creepy deer skull antics for today...maybe the week you need to find a taxidermist book to figure out what you need to do.

Nate gives up and leaves with his box of new books to let you have full run of the back to do your weird vulture culture shit. He figures he's just too old to understand the new obsessions with the macabre. He hopes his cousin won't take to shit like this, the kid's weird enough as it is, no need to put another target on her back. Nate sets off to take down the Harry Potter sets in favor of this new comic series little Jo wanted.

Already taking his silence as the go ahead you place your found skull on the table and rush off into the store front to find a book on taxidermy and hopefully more specifically about bones. The set up and organization of the store reminds you a lot of the scene in Brendan Fraser's The Mummy 1997 where Evie is on the ladder and somehow causes all the book shelves to fall like dominoes. So unsafe, yet all book stores and libraries seem to have this set up. With the tall shelves it makes it difficult to accurately get a read on the spines. You don't even know what section taxidermy actually falls under, education maybe?

“Nate, where do you think a book on taxidermy would be?” you called out as you passed by him.

“...hobby?” that didn't sound right but you'd give it a shot anyway.

This should be fun, the hobby section was so disorganized and it took up nearly half the store too, Book & Nook had everything from fishing, to crochet, cooking, the art of film making, hell even had a cryptid hunting book a book that you may have to look into a bit later. You closed your eyes and let your intuition guide you, when you looked up you saw a thin black...vine, no whisp? It undulates in less than rhythmic movements nearly like a snake but it has no head, and not unlike a tentacle but without suckers. It's another hallucination so you were keen to ignore it until it stretched past your head, giving you an added auditory hallucination where you swore you could hear wind rushing past your ears, it swirled around you until it flew to the shelf and tapped on a book. Cautiously you walked over to it, it's never good to play into these delusions. Once you got close enough the black shape was gone but on the shelf was a creme colored paper back titled “Manual of Taxidermy: Complete Guide of Preserving Birds and Mammals.”

Walking to Nate with the book in your hands you asked him to read it and make sure you weren't having an episode and making everything up right now. You'd have to try harder to go to sleep tonight if that were the case.

“Oh you found your book huh?” he said looking down at the title.

Well this is getting weird fast, but you nod nonetheless. Might as well thank the weird hallucination gift right. Leaving him to do whatever it is he plans on doing the rest of the day, you go to the back. And just as the book instructs you set to cleaning the skull by setting it in some water and changing it as many times as the water runs murky. The book is quiet helpful to a beginner like yourself but it does seem a bit outdated from the bits of information you know from taxidermists blogs and vulture culture posts on the internet. Reading it in between water changes is a great way to pass the time though, not like you guys get any real customers anyways.

The bell rings as the front door opens and closes alerting you to someone's arrival on your third water change. Needing a little bit of mental stimulation you walk out into the front where Big Jo and Little Jo are talking to Nate. Little Jo sees you and skitters away from her father to rush you, she stops about a foot away and holds her arms wide open. She's a hugger but upon meeting you had never even thought people could be touch adverse so keeping in mind that you might not want to be touched she's learned to invite you into hugs and it's your choice to allow it or not. Placing a hand on your bicep you give a squeeze, checking your tolerance you find the thought bearable. Placing your arms outstretched at your sides Jo rushes your torso for her hug.

After she nearly body slammed you into the wall, and let her death grip go she was off on a tangent about so many things. Her excited rapid blinking tic, one she developed after meeting you, triggering your own.

“Ok so you remember how last week I told you that Jessie Kinsleton said that Micheal Saleisa told Gigi B, not Gigi S. that Meghan,” you had no clue the lives of eleven year olds had gotten so complex, from the gossip you heard from Jo it seemed that the school's sixth graders were plotting for a war with an ice cream parlor up the street. No clue why, maybe just to fuck the system, kids are weird, preteens are weirder...and angry.

But you nod to Jo listening to her every word, and trying to calm your eyelids so you could actually open your eyes. After being told the sequence of events that would happen in the Tween Armageddon, something to do with Marco Salvator ordering three dozen donuts and a flock of geese, your eyes finally gained their ability to see back. Black whisps, much like the one from earlier, wandered all around your vision, it looked like a dark smoke had settled eye level within the shop and was snaking through the isles.

Catching the movement of your eyes Jo looked around the shop too. Seeing nothing she turned back to you concerned, “Hey it's okay, nothin's there.”

Hearing the drop in volume of the normally chatty tween, Big Jo and Nate pause their conversation to turn their attention to you and follow you're gaze.

“Kid, you ain't sleepin' again?” Big Jo can already gauge by the bags under your eyes but he's a polite man so he feels the need to ask rather than state his assumptions.

“Day 6.” You answer simply, ever since you've started at Book & Nook the whole Cowell family became acutely aware of many of your disorders. By their record your longest time spent awake was ten days, you however adamantly say that you were an hour's mark away from ten full days so the longest you've been up is nine days in a row. And those are just the cases they know of since you've moved to Kepler.

Big Jo shook his head as a stern father would, which he is, “I have half the mind to send you home to rest.”

“That won't work.” you really don't mean to sound so coarse but it's so irritating having to go over this at least once a week.

“What about those gummy things Dia got you?”

“Long term that kind of stuff has no effect, sure it'll make me drowsie for an hour or two but even if it made me sleep one night I can't use it all the time. And before you ask the same questions again, caffeine has no real effect on me so limiting my intake will do nothing and weed doesn't do a thing for me either.” you state plainly, monotone as you present facts that everyone in the room already knows.

Looking at the stern face of Big Jo's and the exasperated face of Nate you continue, “I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to help, but I'm content living like this. I like my late night adventures and when I do sleep it's really pleasant.”you threw in a smile for added comfort.

“Kid tha's not the point, there's somethin' wrong with you, medically I mean.” he's pinching the bridge of his nose, probably counting to ten to calm himself from raising his voice.

“Tons of people suffer from insomnia and there isn't anything a doctor could do for me except look for underlying conditions.” Big Jo's about to retort when you continue with, “Plus my dad and uncle both have insomnia as well so my case is due to the genetic lottery I lost.” You say with a hint of finality of your situation, you had to come to terms with this condition all the way back in high school. Having a decade to get used to your strange condition and the limitations it places on you from time to time. Whereas the Cowell family's only had two months to process this information, and you understand it'll take awhile before they stop being concerned. Same thing happened with you parents and friends back then too.

For now you're only met with more head shakes as if they were saying 'what are we going to do with you'. Leaving your medical issues aside Nate and Big Jo continue to talk shop, when the set up Nate just put on display catches Jo's eye.

Like lightening the tween was away from your side and by the new display shelf it looked like it held graphic novels. That's a first since you've been here, you walk over to join Jo knowing the second you do she'll start on about what's got her so excited. Most people might say you over indulge the child and coddle her but you actually just think it's really important to take interest in what makes kids happy. It helps them find their voices and also shows them that it's normal to get excited and like things.

“We got the TAZ graphic novels in?!” you hate rhetorical questions but smile and nod at her anyway.

“Have you read them? No, well you've listen to the podcast...what omg! Ok so there's these three brothers and their,” Jo begins regaling you with tales from the podcast known as The Adventure Zone and how fun they've made dungeons and dragons seem with their amazing story telling and funny characters.

You aren't sure if a show where the main group of heroes being called Tres Horny Bois is exactly age appropriate but when you look to Big Jo he kind of just shrugs it off. Turning you attention back to Jo who's now monologing about mongooses you just smile at the weird family you've found yourself in.

Let it be said that a tween with a slightly unhealthy fixation on something can find anyway to drag it back to that fixation. The day flew by with Jo explain the inner workings of dungeons and dragons, fifth edition, to you, her father, and her cousin after you mentioned why she didn't play. Apparently she'd love to but wanted a story fitting for her friend's to adventure. So being the good older cousin, father, and weird family friend you all were you came up with a story plot for her to use with her campaign.

The Jos had a lot of fun bonding over this little workshop and you guys even had food delivered so you and Nate could stay later. What was meant to just be a quick workshop turned into a mini family game night after you made several nearly impossible puzzles that wouldn't be used in Jo's campaign due to no one at the current table understanding how to solve it even after you showed them several times.

Overall it was fun and you think you might actually be tired enough to go to sleep tonight. You tried to stay and help clean up but Big Jo put his foot down and told you to go get some rest, he'd seen the way you occasionally look around the room as if something was moving behind them all. You may have started off as a cashier two months ago for him but his daughter has opened up a lot since meeting you and discovering that tics aren't so uncommon and there are people who wouldn't care or make a big deal out of them. Because of that you've earned your keep in his family, he already has you down on the list for Christmas cards.

Knowing you can't fight the six foot four man you roll your eyes and bid everyone good night, little Jo coming in to steal another hug from you and thank you for helping with her game. Checking on your skull you see the water's clear and dump it in the sink of the break room before leaving the skull to dry overnight, it's for sure gonna make Nate scream tomorrow, you can't help but chuckle at that.

Leaving through the back door and into the dusk colored parking lot you notice your trunk is popped open slightly. You definitely heard it shut earlier this morning. You blink before your head jerks to the right, unsettled by possibility of a break in and not risking it you head back inside.

“Hey, I think my car may have been broken into.” you stand awkwardly in the door way unsure of how to proceed.

Big Jo and Nate are out of the door as fast as they can. They find your car unlocked with the trunk popped, you know they weren't trying to brush you off when they asked several times if you did in fact lock your car this morning. After hearing your affirmative response each time, they began to inspect your car checking to make sure all wires are properly secured under the hood, Nate even retrieved the jack out of his own car to take a look under the car, ensuring the brakes hadn't been messed with. They started the car up just fine and it didn't appear tampered with. Even though nothing looked out of place and Nate's car, sitting in the same parking lot, hadn't been touched you appreciated them checking to make sure you were alright.

Knowing you're perceived as a woman by most, even outside of this small town, makes you uneasy when it comes to terms of abductions and violence. You know the chances and hear the stories whether it's from the victim's mouth or a podcaster's telling the story the dead can't. Nate offered to follow you home and make sure you were ok but you declined and said you'd call them both when you got home. Big Jo said to just call his home phone because Nate would be coming over tonight anyway, and if they didn't make it there before you called Dia was already at home and would pass the message along. You'll probably still try and give the shop a call if Dia answers, it wouldn't sit right with you if you wound everyone up just to not and at least try to settle their nerves.

With one final check of you car, the men even going so far as to lift seats up and feel under them, they sent you off. You drove carefully on the road tonight, ready to pull off into the shoulder at the slightest hint that something was wrong. Not even the radio was on something that you really didn't like driving without, but if there was the chance for you to catch a shift in tone of the machine you wanted to. Eventually you did end up making it home in one piece and you had called the Cowell family home, from the safety of your car, and got a spazztic eleven year old asking if you'd made it home alright. It took a little bit of coaxing but Little Jo calmed down and shouted to her parents that you were on the phone and alright.

“Kid,” looks like Big Jo took the phone away from Little Jo, “Everything ok on the drive.” Big Jo could hear the movement and shutting of your car door, he'd have to say he was relieved you waited until you were on the phone before exiting. He knew you lived out past the quiet zone in Old Lydia's house. A fact that did little for the unease he felt when he thought you were being watched.

“Oh, yea drive was fine, too quiet but fine.” you said simply as you began circling the cottage. Nothing seemed out of place on the outside, even looking above eye level where people tended to get sloppy in stalking or home invasion cases, everything seemed fine.

“Hope you don't mind if I keep you for a bit.” You had just unlocked your door and stepped in.

“Nah, kid 's fine.” you give a hum of acknowledgment as you look through the kitchen in cabinets, under cupboards, and even under the table.

“You're a smart kid.” he's taken that fatherly overtone that makes you roll your eyes. You understand the sentiment of parents and parental figures having pride in their child or ward but it's always been so weird to you when they feel the need to bring it up. Especially when they bring it up in situations that are dangerous, like can you not make it sound like someone's about to die.

Finding nothing in the living room, hall closet or bathroom you make sure all the windows are locked and dowels are in place to keep them from opening. And you double check that both the back and front doors are secured. You can hear the hushed whispers on the other end of the line, Dia must have just found out about your car, as you rustle through your kitchen utensil drawers taking out two forks before you make your way to your bedroom.

Once in your room you checked your closet and under your bed. Finding nothing you went to the window in your room, the one right by your bed, you checked the lock, secured it in place with two dowels, and then covered it throwing a thick blanket over the curtain rod to ensure no one would be viewing you in your sleep or the precautions you were about to do. Turing around and locking your bedroom door you then jam one fork into the closed door crease, right below the locking mechanism, and jammed the other fork perpendicular through the prongs. You attempted to open the door with all your weight but only could get an inch in before the forks would stop more movement.

“Kid you alright over there?” it's rushed, he probably heard the commotion with your make shift lock.

“Yea, just had to add another lock to the door.” you trust the Cowell's but you understand how stupid it'd be to let them know exactly how you were defending yourself. Even if it wasn't them there's no telling if the person who broke into your car was outside and just good at hiding. You could also be too jumpy from your true crime shows but you figure it's better to be safe.

“I think everything's good Big Jo.” taking a final glance around your room eye's landing on the bed, “Think I'm even ready to go to sleep tonight too.” a small half laugh leaves your mouth.

“Alright kid, you call if you need anything got it.” it's an order not a request.

“Got it, good night.” Big Jo might think that'd been rude coming from anyone else but from you he can only roll his eyes at the brevity and the dial tone he's met with. He has his own sweep to do, if they were targeting his employee there was a reason. He hasn't had any problems since coming to Kepler but someone always eventually comes along who can't take a hint.

Even combing through your home with Big Jo on the line you didn't feel safe having your bed by the window anymore and moved it away and in front of the closet door. You'd rearrange your room later but for tonight this would have to do. By some grace of god you were actually able to shut your brain down tonight and rest. Maybe it was the excitement and merriment from hanging out with the Cowells or more likely the situation you find yourself in of perhaps being a target for something insidious.

Whatever the case may be you are off to the land of dreams before you know it. And unbeknownst to you the same eyes from this morning watch your home. They may not have seen what you did in there but they'd be sure to catch you when you come out. They'll wait all night to catch you if they have to.

#creepypasta fanfic #proxies x reader #proxies #masky x reader #masky x hoodie #hoodie x reader #ticci tobyx reader #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas x reader #masky #hoodie #ticci toby #ticcitoby #timothy wright #brian thomas #reader insert #reader #readerinsert

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sagemusesoutloud · 3 years

Text

Anti-Romantic, Part 2

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff

WordCount | 2 K (bitesized for your convenience lol)

Author'sNote | I know this is kinda short, but I've decided not to rush the ending. I'm for sure not drag it out too much, but the slowburn reaaaally got to me and I ended up liking more than I orginially thought, so! I'll be back to post Part 3 tomorrow!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I know that you love me, It makes me deeply drunk

You’re like champagne, I shouldn’t do this

You’re at the base of the stairs to your apartment complex when he pulls up. The window on the passenger side rolls down.

“Hurry! I think they’re about to wash the machines at the ice cream shop!” he reaches over and opens your door while you grab your two bags and your pillow. You loved him, you really did, but he had the flattest, most uncomfortable pillows in the world in his guestroom.

“What? Why didn’t you stop there before picking me up? It’s not like you don’t know what I like.” You’re trying to move all your stuff to the backseat as he pulls away.

He sighs, “Thank you Jae, you’re so nice to pick me up,” he mutters. You’d be a bit apologetic if it wasn’t for the grin he was trying to hide. “I’ve already spent most of my ‘special’ day alone, thanks to someone who had to bail on me. I wanna spend the rest with you.”

“I knew it, it bothered you didn’t it?” You accused while fastening your seatbelt. “Next time, just tell me, I know it seems as if I know everything but I actually can’t read minds.” You knew he was just messing with you but for some reason his words cut at the guilty feeling you were trying to push away. “I actually got you something this time around, it’s why I wanted to see you before the day ended.”

Jae parks the car outside the shop before turning to you, “wait, did you really get me something?” You sigh, offended, “well, if you don’t want it or don’t like the idea of it, then I can still return it.”

“I just thought of you when I saw it…” crap, it’s too soon for you to go anywhere near that subject.

“That’s not what I meant,” he shakes his head, “It’s just been a while since we shared birthday gifts.” You look away from him. If he kept this up, you’ll start to regret calling him. Your hands were slightly shaking with the effort of not reaching over and pouring all your feelings into him. Unlike what you’re used to, he was dressed down with a simple t-shirt and grey sweats. He looked so soft, and domestic. You hated how much you loved it. At least for work, you had both always been professionally dressed, which was a nice barrier for your thoughts. If you dressed professional, you felt professional. This helped control your thoughts. But now that you were here with him, it was definitely harder to keep track of your thoughts.

Today was a day for him, not for you. You took in a deep breath as you turn to look at the shop. It looked like they were getting ready to start closing duties. Even if you weren’t looking at him, you could feel your heart race with acute awareness to his proximity in the small car. He was waiting for a response.

You open your door, “yeah well…if we don’t hurry, we won’t get those diabetes-inducing bombs you’re so fond of. And this all would have been for naught.” You needed to get a grip, fast.

I can clearly see the end, Worse than a hangover

It will be hard, Now, Just end it somewhere here

“I can’t believe you told them it was my birthday,” he groaned, pushing off his shoes at the door. You followed suit.

“Of course I did, it meant free goodies!” You raise the plastic bag with macarons. “It just sucks that they’re all valentine’s themed.” You make your way to the kitchen to put away the snacks you brought, dumping your overnight bag at the door of the guestroom. Maybe if you kept the heart-shaped gift out of sight, it won’t make you as nervous with him.

“I brought your fave by the way, chocolate covered almonds and gummy bears,” you call out. He appears in the kitchen, hair out of his way with a headband. Be still my heart, you thought. You decide to hyper-focus on placing some snacks on a plate to bring to the living room.

“So, what’s the plan?” He reaches over you to grab a water bottle from the fridge, brushing your hip with his front. No no no no no no no!

Was he teasing you? You knew that your face would give you away, you could feel how warm your ears and cheeks were. You hated how honest your face was, and it didn’t help that Jae knew you like the back of his hand. Maybe this is how he is nowadays? Flirty and confident? You’d be lying if you didn’t find it attractive, but not when his attention was only directed at you. You felt like you were slowly suffocating but even that wouldn’t stop the warm light that seemed to burst from your chest.

It seemed so easy to pretend you were closer to him, to pretend this happened all the time. That you were close enough to reciprocate his flirty actions.

“uh, em,” you clear your throat, “actually, I remembered you wanting to see that movie last time we hung out. I have it ready in my apple tv account.” You back away with the tray, “can you also grab me a water?” your throat was suddenly parched.

You settle in the couch, grabbing the throw blanket behind you. Any physical barrier you could place between you, you’d take it gratefully. “You remembered? That was almost three months ago, when the trailer came out.” He handed you your water and grabbed at the corner of the blanket nearest to him, covering himself with it and moving closer to you so that you both could fit under it.

“Jae, there’s another blanket on your side of the couch,” you wanted to feel embarrassed but you just felt an unexpected giddy feeling at him wanting to be near you. “Yeah but it’s my birthday and this blanket is my favorite,” he says as he pulls you closer and wraps his arm behind you on the couch.

“here, put in your credentials so we can start the movie,” he hands you the remote.

You suddenly thank your lucky stars that the movie was an action packed one and not a romantic one. You couldn’t help but sink further into his side, wanting to be comfortable. As the movie starts, he takes the remote from your hand and wraps your arm around him. “I’m cold, keep me warm,” he mutters. Oh sweet Jesus.

Back in the day, this wouldn’t have been something new. Your friends knew you were very heavy with the affectionate touches. A hug, sharing seats, even holding hands. You never shied away from it because it was part of how you showed your friends that you loved them. Some of your friends were also this way, so it was never weird. But now that you’re older, and now that it’s been a long long time since you’ve been close to someone else, the once innocent touches Jae was giving you felt like hot brands across your shoulders and under your arm. If you focused enough, you could feel his hard work at the gym in the way your softness gave way to the hard contours of his leg that pressed against yours and how your shoulder leaned against his chest.

This was going to be a long movie.

You prayed that Jae wouldn’t ask you what the movie was about, you only had enough sanity to pay attention to the first fifteen minutes. It was all a blur after Jae pulled you half over on his lap, “you’re hogging the blanket, move over,” was the only excuse he gave.

Now, your legs were tangled with his and you sat almost on his lap, his arms encircling you from behind. He felt so soft and every little movement made your skin break out in goosebumps. You felt like a live wire about to explode.

“D-did you like it?” you started shifting to the side so you could face him but he held you tighter in place, resting his chin on your shoulder. “yeah, it was pretty good, we have to wait for the end credits though. I heard that they’re starting to give hints about The Eternals.”

“Did you like it?” he squeezes your middle.

Did you? You’re not sure, but you sure as hell loved the attention you were getting for the past two and half hours. “Yeah, all Marvel movies are great,” you finally concede.

“Wanna watch another one? You can pick this time,” his hand started tracing through your arm as you waited for the stupid end scene that was taking too long to start. Is it getting hot in here?

“Sure, whatever you want,” you mutter. He could have asked you for the most ridiculous thing and you would have still agreed to it.

Jae wakes with a start, the room was dark, the only light came from the still on TV. A show was playing softly, the clock under the tv read 3:45 am. He felt pretty hot, was the A/C not working?

He begins to shift when he realizes the position you both are in. Your legs were still tangled together, as if unconsciously refusing to let go of the proximity. You gripped his shoulder, your breath hitting his neck as you slept soundly on top of him. God, if this is a dream, let me never wake up, he thinks.

He usually hates being too close to someone, any sort of intimacy was bad news to Jaehyun. Either emotionally or physically, he kept everyone at a distance because he had seen it too often. How people settled for something they weren’t sure of and hurting those involved. He was aware he was too logical sometimes, but it’s what he knew to protect himself. Moments like these, they only lead to expectations and empty feelings, leaving behind only pain that even time couldn’t heal sometimes.

But why was he finding it so hard to untangle himself from your embrace? He should go to his bed and sleep comfortably, but at the same time, having you in his arms felt just right. Like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

He could smell the light scent that was you and it almost made him squeeze you closer, as if it was possible. You smelled of spring, a light floral scent that reminded him of better days.

He was glad he woke up, he was going to enjoy every second of peace this brought him. He would store it in a little box and hold on tightly when the cold reality came back. As he fought with his drowsiness, he felt you nestle closer. He kissed the crown of your head as he finally gave in to sleep. I hope I dream of you… If this was love, he finally understood why sometimes the pain was worth a shot.

So stupid, sweet love song, extravagant rom-com

As much as I was happy, on the receipt there’s a red line

EndNote | I know this chapter was pretty short. In all honesty, I had written something else before deleting it entirely and starting again, but I really like the direction the story is going now. Hopefully I can update Part 3 tomorrow, but I'm really excited about it!

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Anesthesia | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: Tom suffers a serious car accident and the reader is the nurse on duty in the ER. Tom and anesthesia don't mix and Tom acts very out of character. Can Tom regain his composure or will he continue to shamelessly flirt with the reader? And is Benedict going to work all of this to his advantage?

Warnings: Car Accidents, Hospitals, Anesthesia Makes people act crazy, Tom quoting Shakespeare

“Tom?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered, and he blinked several times, adjusting to the bright white light.

“Nurse! He is waking up!”

Nurse? Waking up? Tom reached out and cold metal hit his hands. Safety rails. The air was cool, dry, and sterile. As he attempted to sit up, he felt a cold air hit his bare back.

“Hey buddy, lie back down. You gave us quite a scare,” the familiar voice reassured him as he lowered himself back down to the bed.

Tom turned his head to the sound and once he saw Benedict’s face he smiled. Ben smiled back.

“Welcome back to Earth, Tom.”

“Thanks, what happened?”

The last thing Tom remembered was climbing into the stunt car to rehearse the big action shot. After that, it was just flashes of fire, screams and sirens.

“The brakes failed and the stunt coordinator doesn’t know what happened. But the important thing is you got out alive.”

Tom attempted to sit up again and felt winces of pain throughout his body.

“What was the damage?”

Benedict looked down.

“To you or the car?”

“The car… of course me! I feel as though a Mack truck hit me.”

“You are not far off. You broke your clavicle, wrist, and a few ribs. Um… lacerations everywhere and a… a ruptured spleen.”

Tom twisted to see his friend’s face better and felt the stitches and bandages strain. He winced at the sharp pain on his left side. Benedict hit the call button and in minutes, the nurse arrived.

She smiled as she approached the bed.

“Feeling pain?”

Tom nodded.

She looked at your chart before adding some pain meds to Tom’s IV.

“That should do. I would suggest lying down and the doctor should be in about twenty minutes.”

Tom thanked her and couldn’t help but notice her gazing over her shoulder as she left the room. Her smile barely contained her giggles. Tom’s eyes widened.

“Do they know who I am?”

Benedict averted his eyes and rose from the chair, feigning interest in the generic artwork on the wall. Tom narrowed his eyes at the clear avoidance of the question.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Oh boy, you don’t remember anything when you got here, do you?”

Tom shook his head.

“No, what happened?”

“You were in a lot of pain. Tell me have you ever been under anesthesia before?”

“Maybe, once or twice…” Tom questioned, but then he stared his friend down for answers.

“What did I say, Ben?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. Sit down and tell me, and I will decide if you live or die.”

Dejected, Ben returned to the chair and let a sigh out.

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

Four Hours Earlier

The gurney burst through the ER doors just fifteen minutes after you started your shift. Emergency room shifts are never boring but physically and emotionally draining. You put down your cup of coffee and headed in to assess the patient.

A man lied, groaning on the gurney. His face covered in scrapes and blood staining his ginger whiskers. His left wrist sat at an unnatural angle and his shirt cut away by the paramedics to administer help.

“Car accident,” the EMT relayed, “stunt gone wrong.”

A specific hazard unique to Los Angeles. They wheeled him to the examination room and put him onto the bed with care. He wore a C-collar, but the jostling stirred the man. His eyelids fluttered open and his blue eyes work to focus on his surroundings.

“Hey…” you looked down at his chart, “Tom. How are you doing?”

“Pain.”

“I know you are in pain, but where?”

Tom gestured to the left side of his abdomen.

“Okay.” You grabbed some morphine and added it to his IV. “Any allergies?”

He shook his head.

“Anyone come with you?”

As if on cue, Benedict pulled back the curtain.

“I did.”

You recognized the man standing before you. Benedict Cumberbatch was quite the movie star.

“Really?” You attempted to keep your cool. This was no time for fan girling.

Within minutes, Benedict could communicate the information about not only the accident but Tom’s medical history as well. It had all been on file with the production company.

The doctor came in and did a quick examination.

“We need to get a CT scan and X-rays. Looks like there may be internal injuries.”

You nodded as you prepared to wheel Tom down the hall.

“Ready to go for a ride?” you asked.

Tom nodded and gave a goofy smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, Y/N. That’s a beautiful name. My name is Tom Fucking Hiddleston.”

The drugs were doing their job.

“Nice to meet you, Tom. We will take you for some tests.”

“But I didn’t study!” he sounded dismayed.

You could not suppress your laugh.

“I think you will be fine.”

Tom grabbed your hand and looked up at you, tears in his eyes.

“Will you help me study?” he asked with a serious tone.

“Of course.”

Tom continued to babble on for the rest of the trip to imaging. He spoke about how nice you smelled and how pretty your eyes look. The full court press of flirting. As you reached the room, you and the other nurse lifted Tom onto the machine.

“Here you go.”

Tom grabbed your hand once again.

“Please don’t leave. I’m scared of the dark.”

While his words spoke of her fear, his eyes and smile said something else.

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hiddleston?”

His smile only grew.

“Is it working?”

You leaned in to his ear to whisper, “No, but the drugs are.”

Tom pouted.

“Not fair.”

“But you are cute.”

His face lit up once again.

“I came, saw and overcame.” Tom was being dramatic.

At that point, the other nurse started up the machine, and you walked away to let the rest of nurses to care for his needs. After his scans, you headed back to the waiting area. You found Benedict pacing the floor in anticipation. His long fingers alternating between steepling in front of his face and raking through his hair. As you approached, you cleared your throat.

“Yes?” his voice shared a tone of concern and hopefulness.

“A few broken bones but the big thing is that his spleen has ruptured. He needs surgery right away.”

Ben’s face fell.

“Will he be okay?”

You nodded.

“He will make a full recovery. Would you like to see him before they send him in to operating?”

You led Ben back to where they were prepping Tom for surgery. The anesthesiologist added drugs to the IV and Tom was now in a full hospital gown. His tattered rags of clothes in the garbage.

“No fair!” Tom bellowed as you entered with Ben throwing the thin sheet over his legs. The two of you shared a knowing look, “You have seen me naked but I have not had the chance to see you naked.”

You leaned into Benedict.

“It would seem that the medicine does not agree with your friend,” you smirked.

“Oh, I don’t know, I rather like him like this, so not proper. So not Tom Hiddleston.”

You smiled as you looked upon Tom who, in vain, tried to cover his body. Even loopy on drugs, he charmed and warmed your heart.

“I will leave you to it.”

As you turned to leave, Tom shouted at you.

“I love thee, Y/N. By which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, not withstanding the poor and untempering effect of visage. And therefore tell me, most fair Y/N, will you have me?”

You suppressed a small giggle.

“I will see you later,” you let them both know as you shut the door.

As soon as the door latched, Tom grabbed Benedict’s arm and pulled him down close.

“Ben! Ben! Have you met my wife?”

Benedict screwed his face up with confusion.

“The nurse? That is just the drugs talking, Tom. You barely know her.”

“Nonsense. She will be my wife and you shall be my best man.”

Benedict looked at Tom with an exasperated face but Tom’s only contained earnest. With a chuckle, Benedict conceded.

“Very well, Tom. I will be your best man.”

Tom slapped Benedict’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit. As my best man, I require you to acquire my future bride’s number.”

Benedict could not resist at this point to play along with his friend’s drug-addled fantasy.

“I will, on one condition.”

“Name your price.”

“Name your firstborn after me.”

“Consider it done.”

“Then consider the number yours.”

Tom’s face beamed and as if on cue, the nurses came to wheel Tom into surgery.

***

“Oh dear, God. I quoted Shakespeare.”

Tom hung his head and his face and neck turned a bright shade of red.

“Yep. The Henry the Fifth wooing speech too. Honestly, it was one of your better performances. Might I suggest doing all your roles drugged from now on.”

Tom shot Benedict a withering look.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I can’t show my face to her again.”

At that moment, the door opened, and you entered. The color drained from Tom’s face, while the smile grew on Benedict’s.

“Y/N!” Benedict cooed, “We were just talking about you. So nice of you to stop in.”

Your shift ended half an hour ago, but you wanted to check in on Tom before going home. Today was not the first time a patient hit on you, although they are usually not an award-winning actor with a penchant for quoting Shakespeare. But, you would remain ever the professional. You checked the chart before wishing the two men well.

As you turned to exit, Benedict walked you out.

“Thank you, Y/N for attending to Tom.”

“My pleasure. Even under the influence, he is quite charming.”

Benedict took this opportunity.

“Speaking about that…”

3 years later

“Tom!”

You yelled down the hall of your London home, beckoning your husband. At six months pregnant, getting up and down was no easy task. Tom rushed to your side. He gave you his arm and with a rocking start; you extracted yourself from the chair.

“Thanks, darling.”

“I am at your beck and call.”

You rubbed your swollen belly as you waddled your way down the hall. Tom followed you to the kitchen.

“Now about names for this little young man here.”

Tom grew ashen. He thought he could avoid this conversation, but it seems his luck had run out.

“Yeah, I have I mentioned today that I love you.”

Tom kissed your lips, and you looked at him with distrust.

“What have you done?”

Tom smiled and rubbed his neck, a nervous habit.

“I may have promised to name the child after Benedict.”

Tom flinched.

“You what? Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was for a good cause.”

“Which was?”

“Your phone number.”

With that, Tom took off down the hallway. You smiled as you walked with much effort behind him.

“We are NOT naming our child after breakfast food!”

You heard Tom’s laughter fill the house.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

Text

When Two Coffee Adicts Unite 3

Part 3

@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 30: Goodbye

Ao3 *** First *** Previous

~~~~~~~~~~

Mari decided to skip on the Museum, seeing as Tim and Dick showed her around it already. So, she took the train to Metropolis, seeing as it wasn’t that long of a trip away.

She was walking down the shopping district a sketchbook in hand jotting down ideas and inspiration as she walked. She snapped quick photos on her phone while she walked. Overall, the energy in Metropolis was a stark contrast from the energy in Gotham. She had ended up in a park and sat on a bench while quietly sketching when a red and blue blur flew into the park.

“Stop right there.” Marinette shouted as she pulled out her phone.

“What?!” He froze as she started snapping shots of him hovering in the park.

“Sorry, it was a huge sudden burst of inspiration.” She apologized, as she ran back to her seat on the bench and pulled out her sketch book again.

“So, you scare me into freezing and then go back to your little book?”

“Not a little book, it’s a sketchbook.” She flipped to a clean page and started to settle her design on paper.

“So, what is that any better?” He was now flying over her shoulder watching as her pencil danced on the papers surface.

“Depends, if that is better for you?” she shrugged.

“That looks good.”

“you sound surprised.”

“Well I did just meet you after all.”

“True.” She didn’t look up from her sketch. “Marinette.”

“Superboy.”

“Uh huh.” She hummed, as she continued to work. The two of them stayed like that for a while and she only listened to his breathing and the sounds around her. The sounds around her lulling her into a sense of security, which she took advantage of and designed as if her life depended on it.

“Um so I should go...”

“Huh?” She looked up again. “Oh, you’re still here?”

“Umm… Yes, so umm goodbye.” He flew away and she continued to work.

- - -

Marinette didn’t leave Metropolis until well after sunset, meaning by that she didn’t get back to Gotham well after it got dark.

Since she wasn’t far from the ‘nice’ part of Gotham she decided to walk back. She did make sure to text her friends, Jagged, and Penny that she was fine and heading back when she left the station so they wouldn’t worry.

“I know your there and that you’ve been tailing me the last five minutes.” She spoke aloud but had her phone to her ear as if on a call.

There jumped down Red Robin followed by the youngest of the flock, Robin.

“Tt. And how would you know that we were tailing you specifically?” Robin clipped.

“To focus on one person for five minutes is a give away. That and there is no one else on the street of this particular area, now is there Petit Oiseau?”

“This is Gotham after all, why don’t you allow us to walk you home?”

“As you said this is Gotham, and even if you are vigilantes, it is not safe for you to accompany me the entire way.” She noted their slightly shocked looks at her refusal. “But why don’t you take me to a café near my home would that work with you both.”

“That seems to be the best course of action.” Robin answered for the both of them before starting to walk down the road.

“Um, Petit Oiseau it’s actually this way,” she pointed in the opposite direction.

“Oh,” he turned on his heel, as he passed, she noticed the light blush under his mask.

They walked maybe five minutes idly talking until they reached the little café. “Looks like this is where we leave you.” Red Robin announced.

“Not without a drink, my treat as a thank you for accompanying me.”

“We should be leaving,” Robin interjected before Red Robin could answer.

“I would be rude to decline a thank you gift, Robin.”

“Fine.” He conceded after Mari’s puppy eyes.

“Great!” She clapped. “Do you guys want to come in or want to wait out here’re and I’ll get the drinks?”

“We’ll wait out here, I’ll take a black coffee with fifteen espresso shots and a pump of mocha.”

“Got it. Petit Oiseau?”

“No coffee.”

“They have fresh fruit shakes and smoothies.”

“That sounds acceptable.”

“Okay, umm…” she thought. “What about a green smoothie. It has pineapple, orange, coconut water, banana, and spinach.”

“Alright.” With his approval she went in and ordered the three drinks, her two regulars and Robin’s smoothie. It’s funny with how much espresso were in these coffees you would expect the baristas to give her a look, but after two months of picking up coffee for both her and Tim they just seemed resigned at this point.

She transferred the two vigilantes’ drinks to two thermos she has on her; the baristas were kind enough to wash them for her. “Here we are.” She held out the two heavier cups.

“These don’t look like the normal to go cups?”

“Because they aren’t. You guys are going to be jumping and fighting, those flimsy cups wouldn’t hold plus, you two are gonna follow me anyways so drop them off when you can. Au revoir.” She left the two sneaking a picture as she walked away, and before the two left the street for the roofs.

- - -

The next day as she was at the café to pick up her and Tim’s morning drinks Damian called her.

“Hello Damian,” she started. “Did you need something?”

‘Good morning Dupain-Cheng. I was wondering if you have already arrived at the office?’

“Not yet what do you need.” He wouldn’t call unless he needed something right?

‘Have you already gotten your coffee?’

“Not yet, want me to bring you something, if you are at the office today that is?”

‘Yes… please.’

“No problem, anything in particular?”

‘A smoothie would be preferable.’

“I’ve got an idea of what you might like, so I’ll surprise you.” There was silence on the line, she knew he would be silently huffing. “A green smoothie is that okay.”

‘Yes, I will see you soon Dupain-Cheng.’

“See you soon Damian.”

She hung up and soon walked out of the café with three identical drinks as the night before a thought popped in her head. What if? No, it couldn’t. Could it?

She went up to her office like usual dropped off her things, but grabbed a marker and wrote on one drink leaving the other two with their normal nicknames, the baristas have taken to referring to her and Tim as ‘Coffee’Dee and ‘Coffee’Dum, to label their drinks. So, she took up the three drinks and would have went up to Tim’s office. She however met Tim before getting to the elevator and took the cup labeled Dum.

“Tim?”

“What’s on your mind your scrunched in thought?”

“Do you mind giving this to Petit Oiseau? He said he would be here and wanted a drink.”

“Sure….” Realization hit as he surveyed her. She never referred to anyone by that name before, except for yesterday with Robin, and only Red Robin was there. Oh no.

“Thanks!” She rushed off her cup in hand. Yup her life was anything but normal. One of her best friends’ moonlights as a vigilante in the most dangerous city in the world. And if Damian is Petit Oiseau then that means… Oh Crap. Well she is probably going to get a visit from the bat, SHIT. I just have to survive today. Okay freak out later. Yeah that sounds good.

~~~~~~~~~~

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Taglist: @readingalldaysleepingallnight @corporeal-terrestrial @blackroserelina @animegirlweeb @dahjokester @lolieg @justyourlnormalfangirl @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #ml marinette #tim drake #superboy #red robin #damian wayne #robin #platonic timari #timari #maribatmarch2021

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

Note

hello self - tumblr continues to hate us so let's just post this way #yolo

Can the past truly be rewritten? Can one simply erase the thunder and rain, leaving behind only the rainbows and sunshine? Can the imperfections be ushered away with the eraser shavings? Or will they remain engrained into the page – its presence serving as a reminder that no one can escape their past.

The answer of course, is that the past cannot be rewritten.

Recently, there were three people, connected by destiny, who struggled to accept this fact. Unfortunately, you were included in said group. But instead of surrendering, you chose to wield your stubbornness as a sword, refusing to accept reality, and refusing to accept defeat. The truth of the matter was… you could not afford to concede. As if you did, you would never be able to return to the love that bathed your world in colour. And the world has stolen far too much from you – could you really survive if it stole him?

You needed to rewrite these last few months, if you didn’t, every moment you shared with him would be tainted in a blinding crimson. The warnings issued by your best friend and sister were true – you knew that what your relationship needed was time. But you were absolutely terrified that time would not be enough to mend the damage. And so, your mind remained clouded with thoughts of fantasy and seized by fear.

“I’m leaving now, Tooru. Have fun at practice later.” A faint smile was presented in the setter’s direction, as you shoved your right hand into your jacket pocket.

“Have fun, y/n-y/n! But not too much fun.” The mocha haired male ripped his gaze away from the cellphone screen, before tossing a playful wink.

Rolling your eyes, a gentle laugh was pushed past your teeth. You were thankful that he remained oblivious to the surge of emotions thrashing against the thin mask you prepared for him. It was better this way – fake it until you make it, right?

As you began down the hallway, the clicking of your boots with the surface soon syncretized with your breathing, forcing it to a slower pace. Once in the elevator, you removed your hand from your pocket, analyzing it for any defects. The caffeine consumed earlier prompted tremors to claim your fingers. It was a miracle you were able to complete your texts without any mistakes. But it appeared that after steadying your breathing pattern, your limbs returned to regular functioning.

Maybe it would be okay. Everything would be okay.

The mantra was repeated internally until you reached the lobby, providing a boost of confidence to your step. Within a few seconds you were able to locate the one responsible for your frazzled mental state. The familiar black-haired male was stood outside the glass barriers with his eyes glued to the cement below. Dressed in blue jeans and a thin corduroy jacket, he sincerely outshined any models you were fortune enough to collaborate with. The sight flooded your senses with adoration, drowning out the remaining anxiety that inhibited your veins. When he caught onto your presence, a smile warmed his features and you found yourself unable to maintain a frown.

At the end of the day, he was still the same man you fell in love with. The same one who filled your days with love and happiness.

Perhaps that would be enough to override the scarlet rain that loomed over you.

“Hi there.” When you joined your fiancé outside, a teasing smirk tugged at the ends of your lips. “Look at you, lookin’ like a whole ass snack.”

“Well, hello to you too. I’m glad you approve of my outfit.” Joy glimmered in his grey irises while a low chuckle was expelled. He was skeptical in asking his brother for fashion guidance earlier, but it seemed that his twin’s advice was useful once again.

“Are you sure you’re not the model, and I’m the cook in the relationship? I mean, I do make some mean onigiri.” Proceeding a step closer to him, you trailed the tips of your fingers along the sleeve of his coat, permitting your fingers to linger when you reached his wrist.

His eyes flickered to your wandering hand, and without missing a beat, he caught your fingers with his, weaving them together naturally. Truthfully, he wanted to embrace you or obtain some form of physical contact the second he laid eyes on you, what he was searching for was permission. He was unsure what boundaries were required under the circumstances, but he was thankful that he was still allowed to hold your hand.

“You do. I have a lot to learn from you, chef.” With his gaze returning to yours, you were quick to notice how the physical contact eased him.

“You’re so cheesy.” Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, feigning disappointment. The theatrical response served as a distraction from the heat flowing from his skin and the little tingles spreading along your arm. But when Osamu squinted at you with an adorable pout fixing onto his lips, your resolve to continue the performance was completely obliterated. He was only playing along with your charade, and yet his response had led you to shift tactics. “Good thing I like cheese!”

Amazing save, right?

“Yeah, good thing.” The forced retort granted the cook a surge of confidence, and in a surprising movement, he leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose. The exchange forced an imaginary clog to immediately form inside your throat. Needless to say, you did not see that coming.

In an attempt to dismiss the swirl of emotions his action instigated, you pushed away from him, before beginning down the pathway. Issuing a cough to clear your passageways, your attention was forced onto a random building. “Okay, come on. We’ve got a fifteen-minute walk to go. Follow me.”

Exhaling a laugh mixed with a sigh, he nodded, trailing close behind you.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, y/n.”

The journey to the botanical garden was mostly filled with playful banter, and half-hearted laughter. Somehow you had successfully managed to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine – that your relationship was not littered in punctures. It was peaceful; the fantasy you had created. It was safe.

The botanical garden that Osamu had selected for your first stop was laid out in the style of a French garden, with a green house that resembled a crystal palace. Breathtaking was surely an understatement, and for the first time since you joined him, Osamu found himself entranced by something other than your presence. Tightening his grip around your hand, he gently brushed his thumb against your skin in a soothing manner.

“This is incredible.” The proclamation was accompanied by a wide-eyed expression. He was never into gardens; but even he was in awe at the sight ahead.

Humming in agreement, you shifted your attention to the centre fountain. It was your favourite spot on the land, and consequently where you took a picture of teddiursa for your Instagram page.

“It feels like a fairy-tale garden, huh?”

The suggestion forced him to return his gaze to you, prompting you to raise an eyebrow quizzically.

“With you here, it sure does.” He was evidently pleased with the corny statement, a fact that could be ascertained by the little twitch of his mouth. He was clearly attempting to suppress his laughter.

“You better not be saying I am a princess, because you and I both know that is not true.” Contorting your features in artificial irritation, a little huff was discharged. But the theatrics were dismantled when he voiced his explanation, replacing irritation with surprise.

“Oh, of course not. But even demons need a place to live.”

“Demon?!” Halting abruptly on the path, your mouth opened and shut twice as you struggled to find a suitable response.

“Not just a demon, the prettiest demon.” Finally releasing the laughter, he stored inside his chest, he tugged you into his embrace, before pressing his cheek against your head. A growl erupted inside of your throat as you begrudgingly rested your forehead against his chest.

“Yeah yeah. Nice save.”

A comfortable silence blanketed over you two as you began along the pathway, observing and admiring the flower-filled beds and impeccably manicured geometric lawns. However, comfort slowly morphed into distress as you wandered deeper into the vined arches that connected the greenhouse and the “garden of senses”. Without the distraction of conversation, it was straining to drown out the whispers issued by the little voice inside your head. The whispers gradually increased in volume until you could no longer differentiate your own voice from the creatures fuelling your anxiety.

It won’t last – this isn’t real. It is solely a fantasy you have forced upon yourself to cope. He doesn’t love you like he did – no matter what you do now… your love will always be infected with a fatal disease.

The featured attraction hosted only two other visitors; a couple. The happiness emanating from the couple stole the tiniest bit of sanity you were clinging to. And when the stranger knelt down on one knee, reaching for an item in his jacket, nausea bubbled inside your stomach. The sight should have not twisted your guts, tangling your organs – but it did. And it hurt. God, it hurt.

“Hey, come here.”

Despite the waves of agony that came packaged with the sight ahead; you could not stop watching. Not until your fiancé’s voice broke you from your trance. As you rubbed away at the tears hanging onto your lashes, Osamu guided you along the path until you reached an isolated portion of the garden. Once you were alone, and no longer in earshot of any others, he released your hand, then brushed through his hair in frustration.

“I know what you’re doing. You don’t have to act okay, y/n. You don’t have to force yourself to be happy.” The frustration was aimed at himself, for inadvertently pushing for some sense of normalcy. It was selfish for him to have wanted it – to have hoped for it.

“Well shit, guess I blew my cover.” The comment was coated in sarcasm, though you intended for it to sound lighter than it did. The tears resting upon the pads of your fingers did not also help the tense atmosphere.

“I need you to know that you have every right to be angry. You’re allowed to hate me!” The latter of the sentence was vocalized in a lower octave, a detail that only brought you to feel defeated. Because you don’t hate him, and you can’t hate him. “I deserve it all. But if we really want to move on, it can’t be like this.” Unsure what to do with himself, he shifted on the spot uncomfortably, tugging at his roots.

“You idiot. I don’t hate you. I hate this situation. I hate that it got to this.” Dragging a palm down your visage, a groan was muffled. “It’s fine. Can we just enjoy this, please?”

Just keep pretending that it’s okay. Keep pretending. Please. Let me keep pretending.

“No. I can’t enjoy it when you’re hurting.” Shaking his head, sorrow crossed his face, molding his features. “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to lessen the pain.” A small step was advanced closer, he was seconds from capturing you in his arms once more, desperate to fix the pieces he damaged.

But his ambitions were momentarily abandoned when rageful sentiments ripped from your throat. “I want to start over. I want to erase what happened! Can you do that, ‘Samu?! Do you have a damn magic pencil and a magic storybook that can fix everything?!” Clenching your teeth, your eyelids narrowed into daggers. Of course, your question was unreasonable, you knew that. But you were exhausted, so damn exhausted and you didn’t care.

You genuinely expected him to point out the flaws in your request, yet instead you were met with laughter. Pressing a palm against his stomach, the cook laughed loudly, even stumbling a step back in the process. At this point it was impossible to tell who was the insane one – him or you.

“Are you laughing at my pain, you sadistic gremlin?” Your mascara heavy eyelids fluttered open and shut as you strived to comprehend what was occurring.

Osamu raised a finger, silently requesting that you abandon your accusations as he composed himself.

“No. I’m laughing at the fact you’re screaming at me and referencing a tv show at the same time. It’s the most you thing you’ve done in a while.” Resuming his mission to eliminate the space between you, he caught your face with both of his palms, before aligning his forehead with yours. His reasons for breaking into laughter held some logic, but a pout still registered onto your mouth. And even with your foreheads connected, you averted your stare, unable to maintain eye contact. “Listen to me, y/n. I don’t have a magic pencil, or a magic storybook. And don’t even think of asking if I have a hot tub time machine. But I will do whatever I can to make this right. Just tell me… something reasonable.”

For a moment, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating what answer to bestow upon him. In the end, your heart took reign of your vocal cords, leaving your brain face palming in shame. “I wanna redo these last three months.”

Woops, you said it.

Osamu blinked down at you, mulling over your strange request. If he could snap his fingers and go back in time, he would. But maybe there was another way to accomplish this goal. Inhaling a breath, he nudged his nose against yours in effort to gain your wandering attention. “Okay. Let’s do that. I’ll reset our phones, and calendars. We can do it right. You can do more gigs and I’ll follow you around the world. I won’t miss a single thing.” The proposal did not contain a single hint of humour, he needed you to know that he was serious.

“Really?” His words impelled a fluttering sensation to bloom inside your chest. The fact he was even entertaining your bizarre request was astounding. It was enough to nourish the seed of hope that was planted with his arrival.

“Yeah. Really.” Lowering his face, he guided his mouth to yours. The tenderest kiss was applied to your lips, lasting barely a minute. You loved how you could taste the sweetness of the tea he had earlier in the day. How his lips fit against yours perfectly. And mostly, you loved that this time, the action did not fill you with fear for the future.

You were simply… hopeful, and maybe a little bit excited.

“So what do you say, y/n? Let’s do it again, shall we?”

Let’s do it again, shall we - let’s do it again

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: after battling with tumblr for days, I AM OVER THIS. :( BUT THANK YOU GUYS FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND STAYING BY ME EVEN THO I POST SO SLOWLY ;-;-; YOU GUYS ARE WONDERFUL.

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#osamu smau #haikyuu smau #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu x reader

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

here we go, last fic of the year! It’s Lan Sizhui/Jin Ling, a/b/o, set in the same universe as Petrichor, but can be read as a stand alone :)

Someday, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are going to get married.

It is not something that anybody really talks about, and more an accepted fact of life. They have been friends for as long as they can remember, they are both in good position for being sect leader after Lan Xichen, they work well as a team. At fifteen, Lan Sizhui presented as an alpha. Some months later, Lan Jingyi surprised everyone by presenting as an omega, and that settled things. People around them started talking about them as an established couple in spite of their youth, because they’d never have been so close if they were not somehow fated, right?

Neither of them minds. Not really. It’s convenient for everyone after all.

“It’s not like I’m what anyone wants in an omega,” Lan Jingyi points out when, one day, Lan Sizhui asks him if he’s really okay with that. “Aside from you, I’ve never met an alpha I didn’t want to punch in the face after five minutes. Even betas I can barely stand.”

“Hanguang-Jun too?”

“Hanguang-Jun is way above everyone else, beta or alpha or anything,” Lan Jingyi protests. “I guess I could marry him, if he wanted…”

Grimacing at the thought, Lan Sizhui elbows his friend in the ribs, but that only makes him laugh.

“I’d become your new dad,” Lan Jingyi insists with starry eyes. “Would you call me dad, daddy, or father?”

Lan Sizhui rolls his eyes. He should have known that his friend wouldn’t take the conversation seriously. Still, he feels a little better about the situation. Lan Jingyi isn’t without his faults, but he isn’t one to bottle up his emotions. If he really minded that everyone assumes they’re an item, he would have jumped on the chance to say so.

That’s good enough for Lan Sizhui. He doesn’t want romance. He’s seen what he did to his father, to his uncle, leaving one branded by shame and the other broken for years. It just doesn’t feel worth the trouble. What Lan Jingyi and him have isn’t the stuff of great stories, sure, but it’s stable and it's safe. Security is far more important than something as ridiculous as love.

When Lan Sizhui is nineteen, there starts being talk of making their engagement into something formal. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren ask them to give it serious consideration. They are both orphans, so there is no direct pressure put on them, but Lan Sizhui gets the impression that Lan Qiren at least is particularly in favour of the match. Neither of his nephews has had children, and they're unlikely to ever do, between Lan Wangji's character and Lan Xichen's delicate situation. Lan Sizhui isn't a Lan by blood, but he is well liked by juniors and elders alike. Lan Jingyi doesn't have that diplomacy, but he is a cousin to the Lan jades. If they get together, it would avoid the risk of disputes when the time comes to choose a new sect leader: they can just rule conjointly and leave it at that. Lan Xichen is less insistent than his uncle, and says it's important they choose carefully. It's clear, though, that he doesn't disagree with Lan Qiren's position.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji doesn’t like this.

He doesn’t say so, because he wants Lan Sizhui to make his own choices in life, and he will support his son through anything as long as it is not endangering his life. Still, he radiates disapproval when Lan Sizhui reports on that conversation with his uncle and great-uncle.

Most people wouldn’t guess, but Lan Wangji is a romantic at heart.

Lan Sizhui isn’t.

Well. He tries hard not to be.

But now that this engagement business is turning into something serious, he’s a little less sure about it.

It is nice, of course, to know exactly what the future holds. There's comfort in that. Lan Sizhui likes knowing what to expect, he likes safety, he likes knowing that tomorrow will be very much like today.

And he loves Lan Jingyi of course. They’ve been friends for years, and they know each other better than anyone else. But it’s not the sort of love that makes them want to kiss and get in bed together. He’s sure of that, because they’ve tried kissing once or twice, to see how that’d feel, and it was just weird. Lan Jingyi's smell, like grass freshly cut and summer warmth, doesn't evoke any strong desire in him. That's a problem because if they get married, they’ll have to make love. And it’s not that Lan Jingyi is ugly or misshapen or anything, but the idea doesn’t sit right. All Lan Sizhui can hope for is that when they’re bonded, once his ruts and Lan Jingyi’s heats coincide, it’ll sort itself out.

(that still leaves the issue of that initial bonding, but if Lan Sizhui doesn’t think about it, then it’s not an issue)

It’s a comfort of sorts when the morning after they talked to Lan Qiren, Lan Jingyi looks as awkward about the situation as Lan Sizhui feels.

“Are we really doing this?” Lan Jingyi whispers to him, even though they’re in class and really shouldn’t be talking at all, least of all about something like that.

“If you want,” Lan Sizhui replies, his voice as low as possible to avoid attracting Lan Qiren’s attention. “We still have time to decide.”

“Yeah, right. I mean, it could be worse, right? We get along fine, we know that already.”

It is a blessing indeed. Most people in their position would just be dumped into an arranged marriage, and consider themselves lucky to not end up with someone they despise.

Still, Lan Sizhui is glad that they don’t have to give an answer right away.

When they meet Jin Ling on Dafan Mountain, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi immediately agree that he is a bit of a spoiled brat.

It’s no surprise of course. The only heir to a sect like Lanling Jin, with also some rights over Yunmeng Jiang? It would have taken the world’s best parents to prevent that boy from being a little rotten, and as everyone knows well, Jin Ling doesn’t have parents.

In truth, Lan Sizhui feels a little sorry for him, not least of all because that boy is related to Jiang Wanyin, and Lan Sizhui pities anyone who must deal with that man on a regular basis. Only a truly awful person could be so disliked by Lan Wangji.

It’s also quickly apparent that Jin Ling is, for lack of a better term, a little awkward. He reacts to Lan Jingyi’s light teasing as if he was being insulted (in fairness, Lan Jingyi sometimes walks a fine line between the two, and he’s a little on edge after that business in Mo village) and takes himself far too seriously. He is also impossibly stubborn, and surprisingly reckless for someone so aware of his own self-importance.

“What a brat that was,” Lan Jingyi complains on the way back to Cloud Recesses. “No need to question what he’ll present as, he’s got alpha written all over his face.”

“No gossiping,” Lan Sizhui reminds him, his eyes darting toward Lan Wangji who, thankfully, pays them no mind. All his attention is on that lunatic he has decided to protect from Jiang Wanyin. “And you can’t go guessing at people’s fate like that. Sect leader Lan doesn’t look like an omega, does he? You just never know until it’s there.”

Lan Jingyi takes a moment to consider that.

“He is spoiled and prissy enough that he could be an omega,” he concedes, as if that’s the point Lan Sizhui was trying to make. “Still, I’m betting on alpha, and a very annoying one at that. I hope we never have to see him again.”

“Sect Leader Jin has no child of his own, so Jin Rulan is his heir. Of course we’re going to see him again.”

The face Lan Jingyi makes at the news is such that Lan Sizhui can’t help laughing a little too loud. Lan Wangji turns to look at him, curious more than scolding. That odd man on the donkey, Mo Xuanyu, also looks at them as if he wants to join in the fun, but dares not because of Lan Wangji keeping a close eye on him.

It’s funny, Lan Sizhui thinks. His father doesn’t usually care much about people. He likes the juniors, especially all the ones whose education he had a part in, but people he meets when they’re already adults, or people close to his age… if at all possible, Lan Wangji just ignores them. Maybe he feels sorry for Mo Xuanyu, who seems to have had a rough life? Or maybe it’s something else. Mo Xuanyu has an eccentric personality, but Lan Sizhui too can’t help feeling a certain sympathy for this very odd omega.

They meet Jin Ling again far sooner than Lan Sizhui would have expected, and if betting weren't forbidden, Lan Jingyi would have won. In the short time since they saw him, Jin Ling has presented as an alpha.

It's no surprise, of course. Although there are exceptions, people born within the main branch of a clan are almost always alphas, at least for the first few children. Aside from sect leader Lan who is an omega and sect leader Nie who is a beta, even within the smallest sects there's hardly any ruler that's not an alpha.

It does make a complicated situation a little worse. Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi and a group of juniors were on a trip to a Night Hunt when they started being led astray by dead cats and mysteries. They then met juniors from other sects, as well as Jin Ling, travelling alone, who immediately tries to be in charge. Lan Sizhui calmly puts an end to that. It's not unusual for a young alpha, especially one still getting used to changes in their body. He can't even control his smell at all, sweet and flowery with a hint of spice which Lan Jingyi complains is making him nauseous.

It's all normal, of course. Lan Sizhui too had a brief phase where he tested everyone's patience. So for Jin Ling who is already hot-headed and proud…

To make it worse, Lan Jingyi won't stop arguing with Jin Ling. They can't go five minutes without getting into a fight of some sort. They snap at each other about the road to take, the inn to stay at, how loud Jin Ling's dog barks, Mo Xuanyu's donkey, whether to warn their respective sects or not… If a disagreement can be had, they will have it.

At first, Lan Sizhui tries to intervene. Someone has to make sure that these two don't throttle each other. He knows that Lan Jingyi is no delicate flower and can take anyone in a fight, but he still has a responsibility as the oldest alpha present, so he gently puts Jin Ling in his place when needed. Surprisingly, Jin Ling usually backs off pretty easily once Lan Sizhui gets involved in a dispute. Lan Sizhui really expected that they would come to blows at least once. That too would be normal, especially since Jin Ling is obviously aching for a chance to prove himself, but it never happens.

After a few days, Lan Sizhui doesn't bother stopping the fights anymore. Jin Ling shouts a lot and plays tough, but he never displays any sign of real aggression towards anyone. If anything he seems to have fun when Lan Jingyi and him argue with each other, and the opposite is just as true.

Maybe that's just how Jin Ling plays, Lan Sizhui figures. He really is a very awkward boy after all. Already back on Dafan Mountain he was so brash and haughty with everyone. He was also alone back then, with only his uncle and other adults around him. Now too, he is the only one who doesn't have anyone from his clan with him. He has his dog, sure, but that's not the same.

"Be nice to him," Lan Sizhui tells Lan Jingyi after yet another dispute, one where he had to intervene for the first time in a while. "I don't think he has a lot of friends."

"You bet he doesn't. He treated Ouyang Zizhen like dirt just because he's a beta! Who'd want to be friends with someone like that? He could be tolerable if he just stopped acting like such a little mistress, but I guess that's too much to ask. Between the two of us, you wouldn't think I'm the omega."

It's a little unkind to both boys, but part of Sizhui almost agrees. Lan Jingyi has never really behaved the way people expect an omega to do, and as for Jin Ling… with his pretty, boyish face, his elegant flowery smell, and the way he always backs off the instant Lan Sizhui gets involved in a fight, he could somewhat feel like an omega.

Except he only behaves like that with Lan Sizhui. With everyone else, he pushes for dominance as much as he can, and he's so stubborn, from a sect so powerful, that even older alphas in their group have started bowing to him.

It's weird, really. Lan Sizhui doesn't know what to make of it.

"He'll never learn to play nice if you don't show him how," Lan Sizhui says after some thought. "Don't think I haven't noticed you're the one starting half those fights. If you don't like him, just stay away. It's wrong to pick fights without reasons."

Lan Jingyi shrugs, which is against the rules because it is insolent.

“He likes it when I bother him,” Lan Jingyi boldly accuses. “Being half raised by someone like Jiang Cheng…”

“Jiang Wanyin.”

“Raised by someone like Jiang Wanyin in a place like Lotus Piers, that little mistress must think shouting at people is how you behave around others. Don’t you remember how his uncle was on Dafan mountain? Scolding him and telling him to succeed at his hunt or die trying, and then coming to save him at the first sign of trouble… no wonder the little mistress is so annoying, he learned from the best.”

That had struck Lan Sizhui as well, mostly because of the risks Jin Ling had been willing to take after being shouted at. As if he really feared that his uncle wouldn’t let him come home again if he couldn’t kill the monster. He can’t imagine being uncertain of his family’s love like that. Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, and even Lan Qiren would never, ever threaten Lan Sizhui in such a manner, and even if they did he would know better than to take the words literally.

He really feels sorry for that boy.

“Just try to be nicer,” he insists. “Teach by example. He’ll be sect leader someday, we really shouldn’t be antagonising him this way.”

The sect leader argument works. It usually does. Lan Jingyi promises to make an effort.

There’s no argument until early afternoon the next day and in fairness to Lan Jingyi, that does count as progress.

Yi-City is not a fun place, not by far. There’s thick billowing fog, there’s fierce corpses, half their group gets poisoned, Mo Xuanyu tricks them into eating the worst food they’ve ever tasted by calling it a cure… Lan Sizhui isn’t one to complain (it is against the rules) but he comes very, very close a few times.

When it’s over, he tells himself that it’s a great learning experience. Mo Xuanyu is eccentric, but definitely not mad, and he knows far more about fighting evil than anyone Lan Sizhui has ever met, except maybe Lan Wangji. He is a little… brusque with them, pushing around the group of juniors and clearly delighting in scaring them a little if he feels it’s good for their education. But he is kind as well. He’s trying to hide it, but there’s a certain gentleness in the way Mo Xuanyu behaves around Jin Ling that he doesn’t really have with the rest of them.

To Lan Sizhui’s surprise, the reverse is equally true. Jin Ling grumbles and complains and stomps his foot, but he seems to like Mo Xuanyu and tries to help him whenever the chance arises. Seeing these two interact makes something go a little soft in Lan Sizhui’s chest.

It’s nice when family can reconnect.

After everything that happened in Yi City, Lan Wangji allows them a little celebration. They get to burn colourful paper money and to organise a little party of sorts at an inn, without any adult supervision, too. Lan Wangji and Mo Xuanyu have retired for the night, presumably to discuss everything that has happened and decide on their next move. Lan Sizhui half wishes he could be involved in that conversation, but that’s mostly because he knows he’s supposed to want to be serious and grown up. In truth, being down here in the dining room with the others is a lot more fun.

While all the other juniors mingle together, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui find themselves at a table a little away from the rest, in the company of Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling.

“We’re all future Sect Leaders, so it makes sense to sit together, right?” Ouyang Zizhen explains, boldly glossing over the fact that his sect is nowhere near the size of theirs. “And from here, we’ve got a good view of the entire room, so we can make sure that nobody misbehaves.”

“I never realised you were so serious,” Lan Jingyi sneers. “Senior Mo complimented you once, so now you want to be praised by him again?”

“You’re just jealous,” Ouyang Zizhen retorts with a grin. “Who is that man, anyway? He’s not dressed like any sect I know, but for Hanguang-Jun to respect him like this…”

“He’s just some crazy loon,” Lan Jingyi claims. “We met him a while back.”

Then, since Ouyang Zizhen expresses interest, Lan Jingyi starts telling him the whole story of their encounter with Mo Xuanyu. Lan Sizhui, who was there, allows himself to check out from the conversation and eats a little. He is startled when after a few moments, someone drops mushrooms in his bowl.

"Don't like those," Jin Ling huffs. "And you ate yours first."

"They're my favourite," Lan Sizhui admits, a little embarrassed at being caught like that. Being a picky eater and indulging in preferences is frowned upon, but he is only human.

"Can't see why," Jin Ling mutters. "They're slimy and disgusting. Do you want the rest of mine as well?"

It's a testament to how engrossed he is in his conversation with Ouyang Zizhen that Lan Jingyi doesn't pick up on that extremely rude offer. Lan Sizhui almost wants to remark on Jin Ling's manners, but decides against it and just nods. It's obvious the other boy is trying to be nice, and that must be encouraged.

After the mushrooms are unceremoniously dumped in Lan Sizhui's bowl, Jin Ling insistently stares at him while he eats. He looks angry, but Lan Sizhui has figured by now that's just his normal face.

“Earlier… you fought decently,” Jin Ling suddenly says, in a tone that makes it sound like it hurts him to say even that weak of a compliment.

“You did well yourself,” Lan Sizhui replies far more earnestly. Lan Wangji has taught him the importance of encouraging good behaviours rather than to just punish bad ones, and Jin Ling is definitely making an effort here. Besides, he did fight surprisingly well, considering his age. “I hope we can go on more Night Hunts together. Although perhaps next time, let’s go somewhere a little less dangerous, at least until we’re experienced enough.”

Jin Ling's face does something funny, like he's happy and angry at the same time. It's kind of cute, if Lan Sizhui is honest.

"Oh we should all four go Night Hunting together!" Ouyang Zizhen exclaims. "We're friends now, right?"

"That sounds right," Lan Sizhui quickly agrees before Jin Ling has a chance to say something rude. "I know I'd love to spend more time with the two of you. Hopefully next time, we won't be put in mortal danger."

Lan Jingyi laughs at that, but more importantly Jin Ling begrudgingly admits that he too wouldn't be against another inter-sect Night Hunt, even though he looked ready to protest when it was Ouyang Zizhen offering it. It seems he really respects Lan Sizhui's authority as an older alpha though, and that's extremely flattering.

The next time they see each other they are, in fact, in mortal danger again.

It bothers Lan Sizhui less than it should, but only because there's something odd about this cave they're trapped in. Some of the other juniors trapped with them say this is the Burial Mounds, but that's… There's such an air of familiarity to this place, and yet Lan Sizhui knows he's never come here before. Unlike some others in his generation, Lan Wangji has never been one to go on grimly triumphant pilgrimages to those places where the cultivation world rose as one against evil. Lan Sizhui has never seen Yiling, nor even Nightless City.

Still, this cave… it shouldn’t be so bare, nor so silent. There is a wrongness to that silence. Lan Sizhui cannot explain why, but he feels like this place should have more life to it.

He cannot explain either why it seems so right to see Mo Xuanyu… ah, no, Wei wuxian step inside, followed by his Ghost General and Lan Wangji. Something falls in place inside Lan Sizhui’s soul, a certain sensation that things are as they should be. Seeing these three together, in this place… Lan Sizhui half wants to cry, and he can’t explain why.

That unbidden and unexplained surge of emotions must be why he eventually snaps at one of Jin Ling’s cousins. Lan Sizhui feels a little guilty over it, although in fairness, that boy deserves his anger. He insulted Hanguang-Jun, which was unacceptable, and Wei Wuxian which… for some reason was equally unpleasant. And for the entire time they’d been there, Jin Chan had been irritating, somehow unable to say two words without finding a reason to be mean to everyone around him, especially to Jin Ling.

Of course Lan Sizhui lost patience. He doesn’t like when people are cruel to his friends.

That protectiveness becomes a problem a few hours later.

So much has happened in a short span of time, they’ve been rescued, they’ve been attacked, there have been accusations and betrayal, there’s been…

Lan Sizhui feels sick to his bones when the bloodied corpses of dead Wens emerge from a bloody pond to protect Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning, but not in the way he thinks he’s supposed to feel sick. His chest aches looking at those horrifying shapes, and if Lan Jingyi hadn’t stopped him, he would have walked to them because if he could just see their face, if he could take their hands… but he doesn’t get the chance, and they crumble into dust before he can figure out why those dead people felt like they were his, just like Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian do.

Lan Sizhui is still confused when they get down the mountain to climb onto some boats, and exhausted as well. So when Jin Ling starts acting up about Wen Ning, shouting and letting his flowery smell invade the space around him, Lan Sizhui doesn’t react as gracefully as he might have otherwise.

He hates seeing anyone being cruel to Wen Ning who he knows, with the greatest certainty, is a kind soul who only ever means to care for those he loves. Lan Sizhui can’t help wanting to shield him from those who would harm him, because someone has to, and auntie isn’t here to do it anymore.

At the same time, Jin Ling’s pain hurts as well. There’s something unbearable about seeing him break into tears, about the betrayed looks he shoots at Lan Sizhui for daring to side with his father’s murderer.

They’d been getting along so well, they’d made such a great team fighting those fierce corpses earlier, but now it’s all gone. Lan Sizhui wonders if Jin Ling will ever forgive him for standing at the Ghost General’s side, and nearly wants to cry as well when he realises the answer is probably going to be no. He wants to reach out to Jin Ling and explain he doesn’t mean to hurt him, that they can still be friends, that he just can’t let Wen Ning be hurt again.

Before Lan Sizhui can move, Jiang Cheng calls his nephew from another boat, and demands Jin Ling join him. The order is promptly obeyed, Jin Ling turning away without so much as a last look at Lan Sizhui.

Lan Sizhui sits down, and tells himself if his heart and head hurt so bad, it’s only out of exhaustion.

When everything is over, when Jin Guangyao is dead, Lan Sizhui gets to hug the man he once thought of as his father when he was really little, and to see him stand happy at the side of the other man who raised him. Things have been an awful mess, but Lan Sizhui is so happy for both of them.

Nobody deserves happiness more than Lan Wangji, and even though they don’t know each other too well, Lan Sizhui really likes Wei Wuxian a lot.

Leaving those two to explore what the future can bring them, Lan Sizhui instead takes a trip to the past as he decides to accompany Wen Ning.

First of all, they go to the Burial Mounds once again, this time to gather the ashes of their family. Their people, who paid the price of being on the wrong side of a war they didn’t even want. Lan Sizhui still doesn’t really remember much, but he likes hearing Wen Ning telling him stories about them. It makes him feel a little more complete, even though he never particularly felt like anything was missing from his life until that day in Mo manor.

After giving their relatives a proper burial, they head toward Nightless City, or what’s left of it anyway. Here too, Wen Ning has stories to tell, some of which are happier than Lan Sizhui would have expected. It feels wrong to hear that Wen Ruohan wasn’t always a monster, that he was also a man who loved his sons and played with them when they were children. Lan Sizhui was never taught to fear and hate the Yiling Patriarch as much as others of his generation, but he’s heard plenty about the horror committed by Wen Ruohan and struggles to accept that he, too, was only a man after all.

He wonders if that is how Jin Ling feels about Wen Ning.

In fact, Lan Sizhui thinks a lot about Jin Ling as the weeks pass. Whatever judgement he ever felt for the younger alpha regarding his attitude to Wen Ning has melted away now, replaced by deep sympathy. Jin Ling is only fourteen, and Wen Ning did kill his father, so it’s normal that he would feel so angry. Some things cannot be forgiven. And now that Lan Sizhui is a Wen too, he figures that there’s no friendship possible between them, not after how much sorry his family has caused Jin Ling’s.

For some reason, Lan Sizhui realises he is truly upset about this. He had really been looking forward to knowing Jin Ling better, because while Lan Jingyi is an amazing friend, he’s still not an alpha, and there are things he doesn’t understand. Lan Jingyi now has Ouyang Zizhen to chat with, who as a beta is in a good position to lend an ear, but Lan Sizhui doesn’t really have any close alphas in his life.

He really wanted to be close to Jin Ling.

It won’t happen now.

It’s fine.

At least now, he has a family.

Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui have just finished a Night Hunt far into what was once Wen territory when news from the Cloud Recesses reach them. They learn that Lan Xichen, a little while after the events that unfolded in Yunping City, entered seclusion. They learn also that Lan Wangji has married Wei Wuxian, who is rumoured to be with child. Without even needing to talk about it, they immediately start heading back toward Gusu. Lan Sizhui has always thought it would be nice to have a sibling, and now that wish is about to be granted.

By the time they get to the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian is very, very round and very, very upset that he’s being restricted left and right. He’s not allowed a number of his favourite foods, he’s not allowed to experiment with talismans, or to run around, or even to read for too long.

“It is the worst,” Wei Wuxian whines from his bed, surrounded by pillows, nibbling on some snacks that Lan Wangji brought him when he served tea for all of them. “I have never suffered so much in my life. Sizhui, if you marry an omega, you’re forbidden from knocking them up, it is just too awful.”

Lan Sizhui almost snorts in his tea. He glances at Lan Wangji who is watching Wei Wuxian with open adoration, at least for who knows how to read his expressions.

It makes his heart ache that he will probably never know that sort of love. After all, he’s still half engaged to Lan Jingyi as far as he knows. And aside from his best friend, who’d want to marry him? He isn’t sure if he’s still allowed to be part of Gusu Lan. He isn’t sure he still wants to be part of it, now that he knows the truth… and it’s always a little hard for an alpha without resources to marry. Jingyi would, of course, because he’s loyal like that, but Lan Sizhui feels he should insist on dropping whatever understanding existed between them. It would be kinder.

Luckily, when Lan Jingyi comes to see him that evening, he is of a similar opinion.

As the two of them walk toward the rabbits’ clearing to feed them and chat alone, Lan Jingyi starts explaining, very awkwardly, that he won’t be able to marry Lan Sizhui after all.

“It’s Zizhen, you see,” he mumbles when they reach the clearing, his entire face red. “We’ve gone on a few Night Hunts after you left, and we get along really well, and… well, Lan Qiren isn’t too happy about it because he was still hoping on me being Zewu-Jun’s heir rather than Hanguang-Jun’s child, but of course Zizhen is going to inherit his father’s sect someday, it’s so messy when two sect leaders are married! He was still trying to push for that, but then that thing with sect leader Nie and Zewu-Jun happened, and Lan Qiren is seeing what a mess that is, so he’s warming up to the idea of me marrying into Baling Ouyang.”

Kneeling down to hand some cabbage to a particularly bold rabbit, Lan Sizhui shoots his friend a curious look.

“What about Zewu-Jun and sect leader Nie?”

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t have heard!” Lan Jingyi exclaims, startling the poor rabbit and making it run. He sits down next to Lan Sizhui, and grins. “Listen, gossip’s forbidden and all that, but… you’ve heard that Zewu-Jun was marked in his youth, and nobody knows who the alpha is, right? Well, listen to that!”

That, it turns out, is a convoluted tale of romance, deception, and betrayal that spanned over a decade and recently culminated into the recent engagement of Lan Xichen to Nie Huaisang, much to the bafflement of the entire cultivation world.

Lan Sizhui is happy for his uncle, of course. He’s always tried to ignore gossip, but it’s never been possible to avoid all of it, and even within the Cloud Recesses there have always been those who judged their sect leader for that youthful mistake. It’s a little odd to think that the great Zewu-Jun would settle for the Headshaker, but Lan Jingyi swears that Lan Xichen looks more at peace than he had in many years, and so does Lan Sizhui himself when he gets to see his uncle a few days later.

Lan Sizhui is happy, sharing the joy of all these people he loves and who are finding the happiness they want. Even Lan Qiren is probably less angry than he pretends to be. He loves his nephews after all, and he’s always wanted their happiness.

Lan Sizhui is happy, and tries not to feel left out, tries not to resent the fact that while everyone has found happiness in the past year, all he’s gotten is people to mourn, and a fear that he could be killed if anyone found out who he really is.

“I guess we’re going to have a lot of weddings coming,” Lan Sizhui notes, swallowing whatever bitterness he isn’t allowed to feel, choosing instead to grab one of the rabbits and pet it. “I wonder who’s next… do you know if Jin Ling has met any nice omega?”

The idea, for some reasons, makes his heart clench so tight that it nearly makes him sick. Only because then, he’d really be the only one left out, Lan Sizhui figures.

It’s a relief when Lan Jingyi laughs and shakes his head.

“That little mistress? No omega could put up with him!” he mocks. “He is so annoying and stuck up and… but at least, he’s been nice about me and Zizhen. Supportive even! He said if Zizhen’s dad and old man Lan Qiren keep being old farts about this, we can run off to Carp Tower, he’ll take us into Lanling Jin and let us marry. Not that I’d ever want to be a Jin,” Lan Jingyi sniffs disdainfully, “but I appreciate the intention I guess.”

Lan Sizhui lowers his head to hide a smile. Jin Ling isn’t without faults, but at heart he really is a good person, and a good alpha. It really is a shame that there is so much history between their families, because Lan Sizhui really would have liked to…

“He’s been asking about you a lot, you know,” Lan Jingyi remarks, which startles Lan Sizhui.

“Who has?”

“The little mistress of course. We’ve been on a couple Night Hunts with him, and every time he’s asking where you’ve gone, and when you’ll be back, and why you left without saying anything… He really won’t shut up about you. You should write to him and let him know you’re fine, just so he’ll stop pestering me.”

Lan Sizhui’s hand stills in the rabbit's fur, his heart racing in his chest, his face heating up. He can’t figure out why Jin Ling would miss him, they didn’t really get the chance to get close after all, but the idea is… pleasant. Lan Sizhui himself has certainly thought a lot about Jin Ling while he was travelling with Wen Ning. Mostly to mourn this friendship that never had a chance to bloom, but also just because sometimes they passed by a pretty landscape that he wishes he could have shown to the other alpha, or they fought a creature against which Jin Ling’s skill with a bow would have helped, or they passed by some fragrant peonies in bloom, or just because it would have been funny to hear him complain about this and that.

Lan Sizhui wants, very badly, to write to Jin Ling, to see him even. He knows, also, that it would be a bad idea.

If he tells Jin Ling about who he is, and his link to Wen Ning, then he is endangering himself, and risking the good reputation of Lan Wangji who saved him and hid him for years. If he doesn’t tell Jin Ling anything, then it’s a form of deception, since he knows the other alpha would never want his friendship if he knew the truth.

It’s safer, then, to simply stay away.

Still, Lan Sizhui enjoys being missed, more than he probably should.

Lan Sizhui never realised how sad his uncle was, until he went into his room in a Qinghe inn alongside Lan Wangji to help him get ready on the morning of his wedding. It is no secret that the road has been somewhat bumpy for Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, that even to this day they have their disagreements, but it is just as clear that Lan Xichen is the happiest he's ever been, on that warm morning of late summer.

Lan Sizhui wonders what it feels like to marry, and for love, too, not just for politics.

For some reason, his mind immediately wanders to Jin Ling. He's still young of course, and his position is too fragile, but someday he'll marry someone, a pretty little omega from a good family. And then, Lan Sizhui will be the only one of their little group to remain single, since Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen have finally obtained the engagement they wanted. They're hoping to marry next spring, if all goes well.

There's no shame in being single, of course, especially for an alpha, but the more Lan Sizhui realises he's unlikely to marry, the sadder he gets. It would be nice to Night Hunt with another person, to find his equal, his perfect match like his fathers did. Someone strong and determined but still kind, someone like…

"I wish I didn't have to bother with that veil," Lan Xichen sighs, eyeing the fabric that Lan Sizhui is holding in clenched fists. "It's ridiculous. He knows what I look like."

"It is traditional," Lan Wangji retorts.

"Did you make Wei Wuxian wear one then?"

Lan Wangji smirks, ever so slightly. "Eloping has advantages."

Lan Xichen freezes, blinking a few times. Like almost all of them, he is still a little upset that his brother married in secret. Still, soon enough he is laughing, and turns to look at Lan Sizhui.

"Some example we are giving you," Lan Xichen remarks, taking the veil from his nephew. "I hope you will be more serious than us when your time comes."

"But father and uncle are very happy," Lan Sizhui notes, allowing himself a moment of insolence on this joyous day. "Surely it gives the impression that breaking rules and ignoring traditions is rather rewarding."

Lan Xichen laughs again as he pins the veil in place, and even Lan Wangji can't help a slight huff, his eyes smiling proudly at his son.

"I suppose we make bad cases for obedience," Lan Xichen admits. "Not all rules are worth following. And you are a clever young man, so I'm sure the path you'll choose will be a righteous one, and that you'll find a partner worthy of you."

Lan Sizhui nods. His thoughts, again, go to Jin Ling. Hopefully he too will find a good person. After so much tragedy in his life, he deserves to have someone in his life who will stick with him and be loyal and honest. That’s the very least Jin Ling deserves.

His veil in place but not yet lowered, Lan Xichen stands, smoothing non-existent creases in his robes, making sure that everything is perfect. He looks nervous, as any spouse-to-be can be expected to be.

Mostly though, he looks happy, and there is no hesitation in his steps when he heads out of the room to go meet his groom.

Nie Huaisang is a lucky man who’d better not mess this up.

The banquet offered by Qinghe Nie to the wedding’s guests is nothing short of magnificent. Whatever faults he has, Nie Huaisang is a good host, who knows how to please people. There are many dishes, fit for every taste, and over half of those are suitable for vegetarians. Lan Sizhui, however, finds himself without much appetite on this happy day.

He really is never going to be Lan sect leader now. Not when he knows who he truly is, not when his father has a daughter of his own blood who is probably only the first of many, not when his uncle too might now have children. It’s a relief, because Lan Sizhui isn’t sure he ever wanted that responsibility in the first place, no more than he would have wanted to marry Lan Jingyi, if he’s honest. But it drives home once more the fact that he doesn’t know what the future holds for him anymore, and that is a little scary.

Without meaning to, Lan Sizhui’s eyes start to wander toward the Jin guests, and rest on their young sect leader. It is the first time Lan Sizhui sees him in over a year, since that day in Yunping City. He looks taller, and a good deal less like a child, but that’s no surprise with everything that has changed for him. Jin Ling seems to be growing into a serious young man. A handsome one as well, but that’s hardly a surprise, the Jins usually have their good looks going for them, even if their personalities can be lacking… though Jin Ling has both a good face and a good heart, of course.

Lan Sizhui must have stared too long, because after a while, Jin Ling notices, looks in his direction, and smiles. It makes Lan Sizhui’s heart beat a little faster, until he remembers that there can be no friendship between them, not unless he lies.

In this too his life has changed.

His mood taking a sour turn, Lan Sizhui excuses himself to Lan Jingyi, leaves his seat abruptly, and goes for a walk. Hopefully, the Nies won't mind too much that he is wandering a bit. If anyone asks, he'll say he is looking for the garden his uncle mentioned after some of his visits.

No one asks.

Lan Sizhui might as well be a ghost.

He feels a bit like one, tied to a past tragedy that now defines him. The lone survivor of a sect that should be extinct, forced to decide if he should follow the teaching of the family that raised him, or try to find again those of a family he cannot remember. Either way, it would feel like betraying someone.

Just as Lan Sizhui finally finds that garden, he hears footsteps running after him. Before he even turns to look, he knows by the flowery smell that reaches him who decided to follow him.

“Lan Sizhui!” Jin Ling shouts as he gets closer. “Are you avoiding me?”

Lan Sizhui winces, unsure how to answer that without insulting or lying. He has been avoiding Jin Ling, but it would be unwise to admit it.

“It’s been ages!” Jin Ling insists, unbothered by the lack of reply. “And I know you know that you’re invited to come to Carp Tower whenever you like, because I told Jingyi to tell you, and he said that he told you!”

Lan Sizhui can’t fully repress a small smile. Lan Jingyi has, indeed, passed that invitation on to him. Lan Sizhui has assumed he was invited only out of politeness, to avoid offending another alpha due to the friendship Jin Ling has developed with the omega Lan Sizhui was once half expected to marry. It can’t have been anything more. Like Jin Ling says, it’s been a long time since they met.

“I am very sorry,” Lan Sizhui says, which is nothing but the truth. “I have been busy.”

He hesitates to say more than that. Considering Jin Ling’s distaste for Wen Ning, it is probably better not to mention him. It is a happy day, Lan Sizhui doesn’t want to ruin it.

Jin Ling, unimpressed, shrugs and steps closer. It is hard to ignore that he’s taller than Lan Sizhui now, his shoulders broader. Jin Ling is everything that an alpha ought to be, and Lan Sizhui almost envies whoever will get to be his omega.

“I know you’ve been busy,” Jin Ling retorts, crossing his arms on his chest, looking a little like the haughty boy he was when they first met. “Travelling places with the Ghost General and all that… but you’ve been back to Gusu for a few months, would it have been so hard to come say hi?”

“That’s…”

“You can even take Wen Ning with you if you want, I don’t care,” Jin Ling adds, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he has to spell it out. “I don’t hate him as much as I used to, and Lan Jingyi says he’s actually good company. Plus he’s related to you, isn’t he? So of course I want to learn to tolerate him better.”

Lan Sizhui gasps softly, his blood turning to ice at the thought that anyone might have guessed already. Of course he knew that people would talk after hearing that he travelled with Wen Ning, but somehow he’d hoped that nobody would realise why he was doing that, not yet, not so soon.

Jin Ling, again, rolls his eyes.

“Right, it’s supposed to be a secret I guess?” he snorts. “Well, I’m not a complete idiot, thanks. I can see that you look a bit like him, and my uncle told me more about when Wei Wuxian was living in the Burial Mounds, since I asked. He says there was a child there, and then I just had to do some math and… well, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re right,” Lan Sizhui confirms, terrified and elated at once that he doesn’t need to keep that secret from Jin Ling. “You seem to be taking this rather well.”

Jin Ling shrugs, a touch of red colouring his cheeks.

“I’ve had time to get used to the idea,” he grumbles. “I was pretty pissed off at first when I realised, but then I figured it doesn’t change things that much. You’re still you, and I still want to be close to you, the rest doesn’t matter.”

Hearing this, Lan Sizhui’s face heats up.

“I’d like that as well,” he admits with a shy smile. “I thought you wouldn’t want for us to be friends if you knew, so this is a relief.”

“Of course I’d want to be friends anyway!” Jin Ling exclaims. “I don’t care if you’re a Wen, or a Lan, or whatever! You’re Sizhui, and I want us to be close, I don’t care about the rest!”

Lan Sizhui’s blush deepens, and he looks away, trying to contain a nervous laughter.

“Jin Ling, I’d have thought being a sect leader would have taught you to be more careful about what you say,” he teases. “You’re lucky we’re both alphas, or else your words might be misunderstood as something else.”

Jin Ling’s entire face turns so red the cinnabar dot on his forehead nearly disappears. It’s… it’s cute. It’s really cute, and Lan Sizhui knows he shouldn’t think of another alpha as being adorable, but he can’t help it.

“There’s nothing to misunderstand!” Jin Ling blurts out, fists clenched on either side of his body.

“Of course,” Lan Sizhui sighs, a little too amused that Jin Ling is still the same, even if he’s grown up. “I was just…”

“There’s nothing to misunderstand because that’s exactly the way I mean it!” Jin Ling cuts him, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing it just a little too tight. “I like you a lot, Lan Sizhui! And I don’t care that you’re a Wen, or that you’re an alpha, I still like you like that, so deal with it!”

Lan Sizhui gapes at the other alpha, stunned by those words he would never have expected.

If it were anyone else, he’d think of a joke. Or else, he’d think that this is just a younger alpha who admires an older one a little too much, as can happen. It’s not unheard of just after presenting, and it usually goes away quickly. In fact, if Jin Ling had said this back in Yi City, Lan Sizhui would have dismissed it as just a passing crush. But they haven’t seen each other in so long that Jin Ling should have grown out of that phase already. Beside, he looks and sounds dreadfully sure of himself.

And Lan Sizhui, who has never really given much thought to those few omega who tried to flirt with him, finds his heart racing in his chest at the idea that Jin Ling might like him.

“Jin Ling, that’s…”

“Don’t say anything!” Jin Ling orders, squeezing his hand harder. “You don’t get to say anything until you’ve really thought about it, and then you’ll have to come visit me in Carp Tower if you want to talk about it! But I mean this, so don’t treat me as a kid, and give it real thought. I’m serious about this, and if you don’t like me back yet, then I’ll just have to convince you!”

There won’t be much convincing needed, Lan Sizhui suspects, his eyes falling to their joined hands. He’s never thought of Jin Ling in that light before, but only because his whole life used to be so neatly mapped out for him.

Suddenly, that sense of uncertainty he’s been feeling since he understood where he comes from isn’t so scary anymore. The Lan Sizhui of before, half engaged to his best friend, half expected to become sect leader, could never have allowed himself to even think about Jin Ling in that light. The person he is now can, and he certainly will.

He’s already been thinking about Jin Ling more than he should, anyway.

“I’ll come to Carp Tower soon,” Lan Sizhui promises, carefully moving his hand to thread their fingers together.

He likes the hopeful way Jin Ling stares at him, his tone and gesture already betraying what his answer will be.

Lan Sizhui grins.

The future, once more, feels like something to look forward to.

#lingzhui #zhuiling #lan sizhui #jin ling #lan jingyi #mdzs #jau writes #does the world need more lan sizhui angst regarding his complicated familial situation? not really but have it anyway :)

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 3 years

Text

merry christmas, ya filthy animal

Hi guys! This is my contribution for @hockeynetwork holiday gift exchange, it’s 2.5k of sweet Tito fluff for @dreamypeaches and I hope you all like it. As always, I read all the tags and love love hearing your feedback, so hop into my inbox and reblog if you like it!

word count: 2.5k+

Everyone has a favorite movie. Some go for a childhood classic like Cinderella, some find an indie documentary from a film class in college, some inherit their parents’ love for the Princess Bride or Casablanca. Not you. For you, there was no movie that could hold a candle to Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. You had watched it for the first time maybe around 7 or 8 years old, and had been hooked ever since, and even Donald Trump’s five-second cameo couldn’t taint the love you had for it. But your favorite part, other than the large cheese pizza and stretch limousine, was the end. The Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, Kevin and his mom finally reuniting after she moved heaven and earth to get back to her son by Christmas.

It wasn’t your first Christmas in New York City, but it was the first one where it really felt like it was your city, like you belonged to it. And it was your first Christmas with Tito. You had started dating earlier in the year, just as the team was starting to make the big push for playoffs and two months or so before he left to Montréal for the summer. It was strange while he was there, not just because he was hundreds of miles away and in a whole different country, but because the two of you had only been exclusive for a few months and were set to be separated for three. You flew up for Canada Day and met his parents, and he came back for a week in August, but the interim was filled with more FaceTime calls and lonely nights than either of you would care to admit.

But summer was long over, the leaves had fallen from all the London planes, and the temperature had started to drop below freezing even in the day. The cold weather wasn’t always great; you didn’t love having to scrape the ice off of your windshield or trudge through the slush when it was too early for the snow to stick to the ground, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. One thing that winter changed was date plans. Unless you hit it at just the right time, coffee in the morning was more prone to freeze your fingers off than warm you up, having dinner outside — normally one of your favorite things to do together — was all-but banned after November, and you could only walk around Central Park so many times. And it wasn’t for lack of trying; you knew for a fact that Anthony had spent hours on plane rides trying to figure out what was open, flipping in between Google and the weather app. He was making an effort, though, and that’s what mattered.

Which is why you weren’t particularly surprised when he showed up at your apartment door on Christmas Eve, twelve hours after he asked you if you had plans that night. You didn’t and it wasn’t a game day, so he told you to dress warm and be ready by 8. You were waiting by the door five minutes early. He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, closing the door behind you. “Did you already eat? I know it’s pretty late already but I think I saw a few food trucks by where we’re going if you’re still hungry.”

You nodded your head. “Anthony. It’s 8 at night. ‘Course I’ve already eaten.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment, the slightest pink appearing on his cheeks. “Should have figured.”

“It’s fine,” you said, slipping your hand into his and smiling. “You going to tell me where we’re going, though?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I did,” he said.

You should have known by the duffel bag in the backseat what his plans were, but some thirty minutes later and he was pulling into a parking lot off of West 49th, shouldering the bag and looking over to you with a grin. “What’s a Christmas in New York without ice skating at Rockefeller Center?”

You rolled your eyes, trying desperately to keep in a laugh. “You don’t think it’s a bit unfair? You’re paid buckets of money to balance on knife shoes and the last time I went ice skating was,” you tried to remember, “two years ago? Three?”

Tito shrugged, taking your hand as you walked out the door of the parking lot. “What’s life without a little risk?” Whether the Harry Potter quote was intentional or not, you weren’t sure.

“Fair,” you conceded. “You’ll have to look out for me, though.” He promised he would, handing his card over to the cashier, who in turn passed you your skates. Anthony led you over to a bench, grabbing a bag of roasted chestnuts from a street vendor before sitting down. You ate a few before tying your skates, swinging one up on his thigh for inspection. “Do these past muster, inspector?”

Anthony took one look at them before undoing your knot, adjusting your foot in his lap while rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “You didn’t tie them tight enough, you could break an ankle in these, babe, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” You shook your head; he pulled you up to a standing position, leading you over to the gate to get onto the ice. “Don’t feel bad if you’ve got to hang onto the side for a little bit, it doesn’t look like the zamboni’s been over it in awhile so the ice is probably pretty chippy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not completely hopeless, Anthony. I’m no professional,” you half-slipped while taking your first step onto the ice, clinging to the railing, “clearly, but I’m an adult and I can handle myself.”

He held his hands up in surrender, gliding backwards on the ice before stopping. “I know you can.” The two of you skated for about an hour before taking a break, sipping cups of piping hot apple cider while sitting on a bench off to the side of the rink. “There’s always that one person who feels the need to go in the center and show off, huh?” Tito mused, glancing towards center ice, where a woman was indeed in the middle of a spin so quick and intricate you had no clue how she didn’t throw up from the sheer centrifugal force of it all.

“Says the professional hockey player,” you quipped.

“I’d go insane if I tried to do anything like that,” Anthony responded, drinking the last of his cider before dropping the cup into the recycling bin. “Just about the only thing hockey players and figure skaters have in common is our ability to skate in a straight line.”

You laughed, squeezing his arm. “Have a little more faith in yourself than that, Anthony.”

“Mhm,” he said, noncommittally like he didn’t quite believe you. “You ready to get going, or do you think you’ve got more in you?”

You looked down at your watch; it was 9:30; the rink didn’t close for another hour and plenty of people were still milling about. “I think I’ve got a little gas left in the tank.”

Sounds good,” he said, taking your hand and doing an extremely admirable job of not laughing at your attempts to hobble over to the ice on your skates. “One of these days I’m going to get you to go backwards,” he said as he stepped on, gliding back easily before coming to a quick stop.

“I’ve just stopped having to hold onto your hands like a five-year-old, Beau,” you said, rolling your eyes as you took a moment to find your balance on the slippery ice. In your defense, he had been right about the lack of resurfacing on the ice; the skate attendant said the zamboni only came around once a day, shortly before opening, and the lack of smooth ice couldn’t have done you any favors. But you were determined to prove yourself, to show him and everyone else in Rockefeller Center that you were a fully grown and capable adult who could skate for a few feet without needing assistance. Which you did, for approximately two minutes, trailing ten or fifteen feet behind Anthony as he skated backwards, executing poorly-attempted jumps and spins for no reason other than your amusement. You were doing fine, until the toe pick of your skate caught in a chip in the ice and you tumbled down, down to the ice before Anthony could skate over and catch you,. Down, trying to break your fall with your hands. Pain radiated up your left wrist, the cold of the ice already beginning to melt into your jeans.

“Oh my God,” Anthony said, kneeling in front of you as several passers-by looked over in concern. “You okay? That looked like a pretty bad fall.”

You nodded, trying to push yourself up to a standing position, but the second you put pressure on your hand, you let out a sharp shriek. “Fuck,” you said, moving to rub your wrist. Not a good idea; the pain only got worse when you touched it.

His brow only furrowed more. “If you put your wrist out to break the fall, you could have broken it or something. We should go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Tito,” you said as the two of you skated off the ice, your wrist hanging limply by your side as you bent down to try and untie the skate laces. He looked up at your face, seeing you biting your lip with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you tried to pull them.

“Hurts to pull?” You knew it was no use trying to lie to him, so you nodded. He pushed the sleeve of your jacket up as gently as he could after untying your skates, handling your hand and wrist with as little pressure as he could. “Not exactly how I thought I’d be kneeling in front of you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. You knew he had only said it to distract you, try to get your mind off of the inordinate amounts of pain you were in, but the words still made your heart skip a beat. His fingers moved feather-light over your skin, keeping an eye on your facial expressions as he felt. “Hurts to close your hand?” You tried; you nodded. “Hurts to turn your wrist?” A second nod. “Has it gotten worse or better since you fell?”

“Worse,” you managed to squeak out.

He bit his tongue in concentration. “Shit. Yeah, we should go to the hospital.” You knew it was no use to argue, even as you weakly kept telling him it was probably just a sprain that would heal on its own as he herded you into the car, looking up the waiting times of Manhattan emergency rooms. “The ER wait at Lenox Hill is twenty minutes, it’s like two miles away,” he said, puting the car into reverse and backing out of the parking lot. Of course, two miles in New York City on Christmas Eve really meant fifteen minutes, and by the time he parked at the hospital and you were walking into the ER, it was just past 11. And of course, an ER wait time of “twenty minutes” the day before Christmas meant that, as a relatively low-priority case, you weren’t seen for well over forty. “I feel terrible about this,” Anthony said, slumping back in the chair to the side as you sat on the exam table.

“Not your fault,” you said emphatically. “Could have happened to anyone. Literally anyone, Tito,” you looked over at him; he still looked guilty. “It could have just as easily been you, if you’d hit the chip at the wrong angle or there was some kind of slippery patch you weren’t expecting. And,” you added as he opened his mouth, “you were too far away to catch me.” Your expression softened. “I know you would have if you could have, but I’m sure it’s not hurt too bad and I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. I’ll be okay.”

The nurse practitioner chose that moment to poke her head through the curtain, calling your name. You nodded. She flipped open your chart. “I’m Emily, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. It says here you’ve got a wrist injury?” You nodded, explaining what had happened. She pulled a pair of gloves on, fingers moving over your wrist. “With what I’m seeing and how you’re rating your pain, I think we’re probably looking at a bad sprain or a break, but we’ll have to get an X-ray to confirm.” Fifteen minutes later, you were in and out of the radiology suite, and Emily was looking at the images on a tablet. She leaned over the table, pointing to the images on the screen. “Okay, so what you’ve got is called a Colles’ fracture, it’s a break in the radius and they’re actually super common, by far the most common type of wrist break we see. Yours isn’t too bad, so I’d say it can come off in six weeks or so.” She left for a minute to get the casting supplies. Ten minutes later, your entire lower arm was covered in cotton and fiberglass wrap tape. You wiggled your fingers towards your boyfriend. “I think purple’s really my color, don’t you?” you said, nodding towards your cast.

You saw him crack a smile, his first since the accident. “It’s beautiful, babe.” Fifteen minutes and more than your fair share of paperwork later, you had handed over your insurance information and gotten the okay to leave, with strict instructions to keep the cast dry and call if you had any problems.

“I think this definitely wins as the most interesting date I’ve ever been on,” you said as the two of you crossed the parking lot.

“I’ll have you agree with you on that one,” Anthony replied. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious, though. I would have felt even worse.”

You nodded. “You and me both.” Anthony looked down at his watch as he held your good hand, smiling when he saw the time. “What is it?” you asked curiously.

“Guess there was too much going on in there to keep track of time. It’s 1:37 AM.”

The painkillers they had given you had kept the pain in your wrist to a dull ache, but all was forgotten as you realized what it meant, what it being past midnight meant, and you couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across your face. “It’s Christmas?” you said, almost like a question. Nothing could extinguish your love for the holiday: not the freezing cold air nipping at your nose or the apple cider that was so hot it burnt your tongue or the fact that you went out for a night with your boyfriend and came back with a broken wrist. You had him, and that was enough.

Tito laughed, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips as he unlocked the car. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

#hockey imagines #anthony beauvillier #nhl imagine #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl #anthony beauvillier the business major

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Ever Since We Met—New Series Coming Soon!

Summary: After making a bet with Odin, Loki finally has a chance to prove he is worthy of being heir to the throne. Under mysterious circumstances, you find yourself stranded on Asgard, left with no option but to team up with Loki and help him win the crown. Now posing as visiting royalty, you must be careful of rumors in court that say you’re not who you claim, all while battling your growing feelings for the raven haired king. But some things are easier said than done because secrets, you’ll soon learn, can be deadly.

< Ever Since We Met is a pre-Thor 1 slowburn. The pairing is Loki x gender neutral reader. The story will begin posting the first Friday in March. It is fully drafted and a total of 28 parts! >

General Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack

If you’re not already on the general tag list and would like to be added to that or the Ever Since We Met tag list, both are open!! Feel free to send me an ask, DM, or comment on this post.

< Header by my best friend, the amazing and talented @lokistan! A big thank you to Star not only for that, but for giving me feedback throughout the whole writing process. >

*Preview beneath the cut.*

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“Rise my son,” Odin said with a wave of his hand. “Why have you felt the need for this audience so close to my departure?”

“Yes, yes,” he yawned. “What of it? I hope you are not looking to come. The convoy is already full.”

“On the contrary, I think it best if I stay here.” Loki studied his father’s expression a moment before continuing. “To rule the kingdom.”

“I do not think you should act so rashly, father,” Loki spoke up, voice impressively even. “After all, you have yet to hear my proposition.”

“And what might that be? Speak, son, and tell me.”

“Let me rule Asgard while you are gone. If I do well, you wait to make your decision on who will be your heir, allow me to continue to compete for the crown.”

The old king laughed again, not as loudly as before, but just as unkindly. “Why would I do that? I see no way in which this benefits me.”

Loki’s eyes flitted down for the briefest of seconds before looking up with renewed confidence. “And the last?”

“Worthiness,” Odin continued, standing up and walking down the steps, “to have the crown on his head.”

“You may not set foot out of the kingdom. Everything must run smoothly while you are here. Is this understood?”

“Yes, father, it is. And you will not interfere with my reign,” Loki replied, distrusting something about the look in the old man’s eye. “So then, do we have a deal?”

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Ever Since We Met begins March 5 12:30 pm EST! Can’t wait to share it :)

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gukyi · 4 years

Note

BLAME IT IN THE RAIN WITH JK (FROM UR FIC TITLE GAME) IS PERFECT!!!! FOR A DRABBLE!!! PERFECT!!!!!

blame it on the rain | JJK (1k words)

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t take issue with many things in his life, but the semester-long study abroad program your school offers is certainly not one of them. For one, as a computer science and business dual-degree, he pretty much has zero opportunity to study abroad for six whole months, not when he’s taking six classes each semester and barely managing to keep up with the workload of each. For another, you went on a study abroad trip. And nothing could really make Jungkook hate something more than that thing taking away his very best friend for six whole months.

Okay. Give Jungkook some credit here. It’s not as if he doesn’t have any friends other than you. He does. He doesn’t have many, considering he’s a computer science and business dual-degree, but he does. You are just... his favorite friend. Sue him. He noticed your absence the most. It weighed on him like a ton of bricks, followed him around like a storm cloud. Your FaceTime calls could only offer temporary relief, especially since you were halfway across the globe and the timezones made everything that much more inconvenient. He missed being with you. What else is there to say? He missed you.

But he needs not miss you any longer.

Finally. It’s June third, classes ended literally three weeks ago, and since his last final he has been counting down the days until your flight would get in, until you would return to campus and everything would go back to normal. No more calls at four in the morning, no more sending each other pictures of your lonely ass dinners, no more wishing you were by his side. You are coming home.

Jungkook is, admittedly, a little overexcited for your arrival.

“Dude, why the hell did you get to the arrival gate thirty minutes before her plane was even scheduled to land?” Taehyung says on the other end of the phone, and Jungkook can hear the way he’s rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t want to be late! Imagine if I had gotten stuck in traffic,” Jungkook defends weakly. It’s three in the afternoon on a Saturday.

“Yeah, right. Just say you miss her and be done with it. I’m not judging.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, you’re right, I am, but can you blame me?” Taehyung concedes easily. “You’ve been pining after her for the past six months. I’m honestly kind of glad she’s coming back.”

Jungkook can relate.

“Wow, I would have thought you were glad that she was gone, so we could spend more time together,” Jungkook admits, a little surprised. Taehyung was always complaining that Jungkook spent so much time with you he never left any for the rest of his friends.

“Not really. Without her you’re like... a completely different person. In a worse way. No offense, or anything,” Taehyung says. Jungkook does not like the direction of this conversation. “I mean, like, you’re just... better when she’s around. I missed the old Jungkook. I’m glad you’ll be back.”

“Oh.” Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say to that. Had he really changed that much without you? Just then, he feels his phone vibrate in his hand, sees your contact information pop up at the top of his screen.

You [3:34PM]: Just landed! ✈️ You [3:35PM]: Gonna grab my bags and meet you out front soon!

Jungkook [3:35PM]: Can’t wait!!!

“She just landed, I gotta go,” Jungkook says quickly.

“Wait, doesn’t she still have to get her bags--?”

“Gotta go, bye, Tae!”

Jungkook quickly hangs up and stuffs his phone into the pocket of his jeans, waiting against the side of his car nervously, eyes darting towards the three different exits as he scans the thin crowd for your familiar figure. Reasonably, he knows that it’ll take you another fifteen to thirty minutes at least for you to get all of your belongings, make your way past customs, and finally get outside. But he doesn’t think he can wait a second longer for you.

Thunder cracks above him. It’s been raining all day--a shitty scenario for him to be welcoming you back--and Jungkook is half-soaked himself, barely able to stay underneath the awning of the airport, but he couldn’t care less. He’d wait out in a fucking blizzard for you.

The minutes pass by agonizingly slow, and anyone who walks through the airport exit that looks even remotely like you gets Jungkook’s heart pumping. But he waits, because he has to. And because he knows that it will all be worth it in the end.

Is what Taehyung said true? Is Jungkook really different without you? It’s true that it felt like there was a part of him missing when you weren’t there. Like there was this inescapable emptiness. Maybe he really was different without you. Maybe he really is better with you.

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

Jungkook’s eyes fly up to the sound of his name, smile breaking out across his face when he sees you standing at the exit, suitcase by your side and sparkles in your goddamn eyes. And maybe you’re crazy, and maybe he is, too, but when you break out into a run in his direction, when you run into his arms and he lifts you up into the air, the only thing he can really think to do is press his lips against yours.

Rain is pouring down, soaking the both of you from head to toe. Your suitcase has been abandoned in the middle of the sidewalk, passersby staring weirdly at it and the both of you as they walk by. But Jungkook doesn’t care about that. He doesn’t care about the rain, or the suitcase, or the strangers. All he can focus on is you.

Rain is pouring down outside but it feels like the lightning is within him, sending shocks through his blood.

When you part, your smile is wide and your eyes are shimmering, and it feels like Jungkook has let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in.

“I missed you,” You tell him, running a hand through his sopping wet hair.

Jungkook beams. “I missed you, too.”

please no more drabble requests for now, but i may open them again soon!

#jinpanman #answered #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #drabble requests

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trvelyans-archive · 3 years

Text

senti(ment)ality

mari wiseman x gray black. 4k words.

Gray’s going to hate the present you bought him for Christmas.

You call this out to Nick as you place it under the Christmas tree. It looks small compared to the boxes you have for Sally and Nick, which only makes you feel more nervous about it, but even though he’s in the other room cooking dinner, you can still hear him sigh. “Mari, he’s not going to hate it,” he calls back.

“How do you know that?”

“Because he could never hate anything from you. Besides, I wouldn’t have told you to get it if I thought he would hate it.”

“… Okay,” you concede, turning around and heading for the kitchen, “that’s a good point.”

“Yeah, I make lots of them,” he replies. “You just never listen.”

“I wish I couldn’t listen.” You sit down on a stool beside the island and rest your chin on the heel of your hand. “Except for this time. Although he could still hate it, and then at least I’d feel vindicated. Embarrassed, but vindicated.”

Nick laughs and shakes his head. You try not to think about how much he looks like your dad as you settle in across the counter from him.

He’s been working on dinner since at least before noon, which you only know because that’s when you managed to drag yourself out of bed and he made you pancakes in between baking two separate batches of holiday cookies, and though most of it’s finished now, he’ll probably still have to stick around in the kitchen for a little while after Gray and Sally get here. You wish you could tell him to take a break or something, but he’s by far the most competent cook out of the four of you, so if he doesn’t keep working, there’d be no Christmas dinner at all.

Then again, if that were the case, that means Gray wouldn’t have a reason to come over tonight and you could still go out to get him another present…

Before you can say anything, though, there’s a loud knocking and an enthusiastic warbling of Christmas songs at the front door. “Uh, can you get that?” Nick asks, a little breathless. He’s thrown a towel over his shoulder and pushed his hair out of his eyes, but a stray curl still tickles his forehead as he stares down at the food on the counter, trying not to seem stressed out.

You lean across it and push the curl out of the way, and he looks up briefly, smiling at you.

Sally’s knocking on the front door again by the time you drag yourself over to it, and you pull it open to reveal her and a slightly harried-looking Gray on the other side, each of them with arms full of gifts. Nick didn’t tell either of them to bring anything besides that, but Gray still brought a bottle of wine.

“Merry Christmas!” Sally cheers, her cheeks and the tip of her nose bright pink.

“What, no cat this year?” You back away from the door and sit on the staircase so they can both clamber inside the warm entryway.

“No, I figured Nicholas would get mad if he spent all night attacking the ornaments again,” Sally replies, kicking the door shut with her boot.

“You’re right, I would!”

You’re glad Sally didn’t bring the cat, actually – he nearly escaped last year when Gray was leaving, and Gray felt so terrible about it that apologized to Sally profusely every time he saw her for the next three weeks. As much as you love the cat, he’d just be something else to worry about tonight. While Sally bends over and unceremoniously dumps everything, including her sleepover bag, onto the ground, Gray tucks his shoes under the shoe rack with his toes and then looks down at the pile of gifts in his arms with defeat. “Uh,” he says, clearing his throat, “would either of you mind lending me a hand?”

You open your mouth to say something, but Sally beats you to it. “Here,” she says, taking two wrapped presents from his arms and handing them to you before grabbing the wine, “I’ll take this, and Mari will go with you to put the presents under the tree. Right, Mari?”

She turns to you and gives you a very pointed look. You sigh and force a smile.

“Sure,” you say. “Just don’t crack the wine open before we get back.”

“Ha-ha,” Sally responds.

Sure enough, once you’re a few steps ahead, Gray follows you dutifully into the living room. You try not to think about how good he looks in his sweater, which is red with little flecks of brown and beige – the same sweater he wore last year, you think, which you remember because Nick spilled wine on it and Gray assured him not to worry because it would just blend in with the rest of it, but you won’t say anything about him wearing it again because of how good he looks in it. (Not that that’s a surprise, because Gray looks good in everything.) You, on the other hand, are wearing a dress that Sally bought you for Christmas, a black velvet long sleeve with little gold stars all over it. It looks kind of like something that a kindergartener would wear, but she begged you to keep it and wear it this year and you know very well she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, so you didn’t really have any other choice. That’s usually how it goes with her. Accompanying Gray to the living room just proves that.

“The tree looks lovely,” he says after you both put his presents underneath it, straightening up and leaning in to look at an ornament hanging from a higher branch. “And you look adorable in this picture, Mari.”

Adorable? “Oh, uh… that was from one of the Christmas parties that our parents used to drag us to,” you say. You’re sitting on Santa’s left, your face red and puffy from crying, and Nick’s sitting on Santa’s right, smiling pleasantly because of course he is. “I didn’t like any of the food there and threw a fit about it. My dad drove us to McDonald’s on the way home, but I fell asleep in the car.”

Gray smiles softly, turning to look at you. “You say that like you thought it would make the picture less adorable.”

You shrug. “Maybe you’re just easy to please.”

Nick calls your names from the kitchen, and Gray looks at the picture one last time before heading out of the room – you, on the other hand, stay rooted in place, your eyes drifting to the black and gray box under the tree that sits there, taunting you.

God. You wish he was easy to please.

You’re quick to follow, intent on forgetting about the present as much as you can for as long as you can, and take a seat beside Sally at the counter, where she and Nick are in a spirited debate about whether or not eggnog is an acceptable drink to have with you at dinner.

“It’s not,” Nick says as he spoons cranberry sauce into a small dish. “It’s a dessert drink, Salome.”

“You know nothing about drinks, Nicholas,” she replies. You can’t help but notice that she’s staring at his hands. “Do you remember –“

“The food looks great, Nick,” Gray interrupts, a valiant effort to stop their argument. He leans on the counter and looks at the spread laid out in front of all of you. “Should I crack open the wine now or later?”

Nick hums to himself, hands on his hips. “I don’t know,” he says. “Mari, are you going to drink?”

He lets you drink as long as you’re in the house and he can keep an eye on you – usually when you and Sally are having a sleepover and watching movies in the living room while he’s working on something in the kitchen – but you’d rather not risk letting anything embarrassing slip in front of Gray tonight. “No, I’m good,” you answer.

“I’m good, too,” Sally chirps. “I’ll be having eggnog with my dinner, thank you very much.”

“I’m not pouring that for you,” Nick says.

“Well…” She stares at him until he meets her eyes. “It’s a good thing I know where the glasses are, then, isn’t it, Nicholas?”

He shakes his head and laughs as she flits off towards the cupboards.

“Is that a yes to the wine, then?” Gray asks. He already has the bottle in his hands and looks desperately like he wants to open it.

“Sure,” Nick replies. “Open it up!”

It takes fifteen minutes for the four of you to set the table in the dining room. Sally complains once or twice about how much food there is and then bashfully thanks him for doing all the work, which he looks pleased by before responding with something unconvincingly snarky. Of course, you’re distracted thinking about your present, and in the end it’s Gray who directs the rest of you to put the dishes on the table so that it fits them all perfectly.

He was right, earlier – dinner smells good. It tastes even better. Nick complains about half of the dishes and tells you all about things he wished he had added, but eventually stops after the three of you shower him with compliments, and once he’s had half a glass of wine in him, he��s all smiles.

“I tried to tell Gray that he had toilet paper on his shoe when we left the bathroom, but he was walking so fast that I didn’t have a chance,” Nick is saying, “so we go up to this man –“

Gray’s redder than you’ve ever seen him. Even the tips of his ears are red. “Nick, please, the girls don’t want to hear this –“

“No, no, it’s funny!” Nick starts laughing to himself and clears his throat until he stops. “So we go up to this man and Gray’s holds out his hand and introduces himself, and the entire time I’m standing behind him and trying desperately to pull the toilet paper out from underneath his shoe without anyone noticing.”

Sally buries her face in her hands. “This is too much,” she murmurs. “I never thought I could feel so much second-hand embarrassment in my life.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m feeling second-hand embarrassment as well as first-hand embarrassment retroactively,” Gray says, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s almost done, I promise.” Nick takes another sip of wine before launching into the last leg of the story. “So Gray’s talking to this guy, telling him all about Unity and whatever, and I’ve nearly pulled the toilet paper out when the Dean comes over to talk to the two of us and then freezes when she realizes what I’m doing. I can see her go from friendly to confused in a matter of seconds as she looks down and then Gray, you know, being who he is, turns around to greet her, but because I’m standing so close behind him, he elbows me in the stomach so hard I stumble backwards, and then Gray notices that I’m standing behind him and also that he has toilet paper on his shoe, and –”

Nick doesn’t finish his sentence before everyone’s laughing again, Sally laughing so hard she’s practically crying and continues to nearly choke on her mashed potatoes, and it takes a minute for you all to come down from it and start poking at your food again.

“So, Gray.” Sally cocks her head at him from where she sits across the table. “Do you have any embarrassing stories about Nicholas that you’d like to share?”

Gray purses his lips and taps his chin. “I’m not sure,” he answers, his blue eyes flicking up to the ceiling as he thinks. “Hm… You know, actually, there’s the one from when we went to this new club downtown and –“

Nick’s eyes widen, and he reaches out to place a hand on Gray’s arm. “Gray, no.”

“What?” Gray cocks his head in mock confusion. “It’s a funny story, Nick.”

“Well, if we’re offering up embarrassing Nick stories, I have plenty,” you offer.

“You guys are terrible.” Nick drops his face into his hands. “This is the thanks I get for cooking you all dinner?”

Gray sighs. “Alright, that’s a fair point.” He claps Nick on the shoulder. “Thank you for dinner, Nick. I’ll save my story for another day.”

Sighing, Nick pulls his hands away from his face and glares at Gray. “You know what? Christmas is cancelled next year,” he grumbles. “You can all find someone else to mooch dinner off of.”

By the time you’re all full and pushing away from the dining table, only half the food that Nick spent so long cooking has been eaten. At least you can give Gray leftovers to make sure he eats relatively healthy for the next little while. He’ll probably be back in a week for New Year’s – Sally will, too, if her dads agree – but there’s no saying how many meals he’ll accidentally skip until then.

“Presents, everyone?” Nick asks with a smile when you’ve all finished cleaning.

Honestly, you’d take Nick telling everyone an embarrassing story about you over Gray opening his present. You’d take the Christmas tree falling on you and setting your dress on fire over seeing whatever look is going to be on Gray’s face.

Sally goes first, as she usually does. She just said it as a joke the first year, but now it’s tradition. Eventually, though, the order of who gets to open gifts next is a little lost in translation – which isn’t unusual, considering how chaotic the rest of the night has been – and it’s only after Sally and Nick have hurriedly disappeared into the kitchen talking about the new pan she bought him that you realize you and Gray are alone.

And that there are only two presents left under the tree – his gift for you, and your gift for him.

He smiles at you from where he sits on the couch, sliding off and joining you on the floor. He’s still at least four feet away from you, but it feels much closer, really close, and he looks really pretty with the Christmas lights shining softly on his face and twinkling in his eyes. “And then there were two,” he says.

You can’t resist smiling back at him. “Yeah,” you reply, like an idiot. “You know, Gray, I’m not sure if –“

“Do you want to go first?”

You look at the little black box under the tree and bite your lip. No, you absolutely do not want to go first. Then again, the faster to get the humiliation over with, the better. “Um… why don’t we open them at the same time?” you suggest.

“Oh.” Gray nods. “Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

He grabs your present, a big golden gift bag that you didn’t notice earlier, and places it on the floor in front of him, pushing it over to you. You do the same with the black box – God, you can’t wait to never see it again – and then you pick the gifts up at the same time, looking at each other as you do.

“Uh… you ready?” you ask. Gray nods.

You tear open the top of the bag as quickly as you’d do a band-aid – fitting, since he just taped it shut – and fish around in the mass of tissue paper inside until you can start to feel something fluffy halfway down. As you reach deeper into it and frown, you notice that Gray’s looking at you. He’s still looking at you, and he looks a little… scared?

“Gray?”

“Yes, sorry.”

The house is silent save for the Christmas music still playing over the speakers and the crinkling of gift wrapping. You can’t even hear Nick and Sally in the kitchen, and they’re usually not very quiet whenever they argue about something. At least they’re missing this, you think – at least you and Gray don’t have an audience for what already feels like a relatively awkward affair. You chew on the inside of your lip as you finally get a good hold on the present and pull it out of the bag, and it’s a little yellow bear wearing a black bowtie.

It takes you a second to understand what it is, and then it hits you.

You had a similar bear when you were younger. You told Gray about it one night when Nick was late coming home after making an emergency run to the grocery store for new spices and Gray asked you some stupid question about school. Usually you don’t answer those questions, with him or with anyone – you avoid them like you avoid everything else, make a joke or change the topic – but you did this time. Maybe it was the soft music that was playing over the speakers or the way Gray just looked at you like there was nothing else in the room. Everyone he talks to probably feels like that, something you know very well, but you just couldn’t help it.

Some kid in your third-grade class – a Ment, just your luck – had seen you carrying the bear around every day since your birthday and heard you thinking about how much you loved it, so one day, probably just to spite you for getting a higher mark on a test or something, he stole it from your locker. He also never gave it back. He got in trouble, of course – your parents made sure of that – but he said he lost it on the way home, so there was nothing more that you could do after that.

Now, over ten years later, Gray got you what looks like the same stuffed animal with its name embroidered on the foot and, to be honest, you could probably cry over the mental image of Fortitude asking someone – probably a sweet little old lady – to embroider the word ‘Honey’ onto a bear wearing a little bowtie.

“Oh, Mari!” Gray looks up at you, smiling so much you can see his dimple and pulling his present – a silver watch – from the box. “This is amazing.”

God, you’re blushing so much from everything happening that you could probably heat the entire house for the rest of the winter. “Well, I thought I should get you a replacement since yours has been broken for months.” And it has been – you can’t count how many times he’s gone to check his watch and then had to pull his phone out of his pocket and then, because sometimes he forgets to charge it throughout the day, you have to pull your phone out of your pocket, and it turns into a big thing. “And this one’s a little more, uh, modern. According to the saleslady, anyway.”

The saleslady who thought you were getting this present for your husband and kept saying that even though it’s very obvious that you’re still a couple months away from turning twenty. You can blame her for being so nervous about it.

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you.” He turns the watch over in his hands and then stops, squinting and leaning closer to inspect the back of it. “And it gets better!”

The same saleslady as before who also frowned at you when you asked if you could get the words “Merry Christmas, Cookie Monster” engraved on the back of it. And yeah, sure, it was incredibly embarrassing to do that and made you lie face-down on your bed for an hour when you got home and yeah, sure, it made the whole thing a little more expensive than you’d hoped, but seeing his face and knowing that he likes it was worth the embarrassment and empty pockets.

“Thank you so much, Mari. I’ll treasure it.” He grins at you and then catches sight of the bear in your hands. “And do you like your -?”

“Yeah,” you answer, fiddling with the velvet bowtie. “Yeah, he’s… uh, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” Gray says, his shoulders sagging as he sighs like he had been holding his breath. “I’m glad. I thought you might not like it or might find it strange…”

“No, no! It’s – I love it, Gray. It’s really… um… thoughtful of you, too.”

He looks back down at the watch in his hand, running his thumb along the strap as a crease forms between his eyebrows, and then, right as he looks back up and opens his mouth to say something, Sally comes careening into the room and stops in her tracks as soon as she spots what you’re holding. “Oh my God!” she says, hurrying over and kneeling down beside you. “Is that Honey? He’s been resurrected! Returned to us from beyond the grave!”

“Back and better than ever,” you say, smiling at Gray even though he can’t see you as he shows Nick the features of his new watch. “And look at his little foot.”

Sally practically squeals when she sees it, her eyes lighting up before she pauses, turns to the boys and forces a pout. “Gray, you’re making me look like a chump,” she says. “I’m supposed to get Mari the best Christmas gift because I’m her best friend.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Sally,” Gray replies without even trying to sound like he’s not lying. “Though, if it makes you feel any better, I like Mari’s present more than Nick’s.”

“Hey,” Nick protests, half-heartedly punching Gray on the arm. “At least wait until I’m out of the room to say stuff like that, would you?”

The rest of the night passes in a blur – you’re so relieved that Gray liked his present and so pleased with yours that you can barely focus when Sally opens up her new board game from Nick so all of you can play it together– and by the time Gray’s leaving and you all him at the front door to say good-bye, you’re still clutching the bear against your chest. Yeah, it feels kind of silly to spend all night with a stuffed animal, but… It’s a gift from Gray. What else are you supposed to do with it besides hang onto it for dear life and hope someone doesn’t take it away from you?

Once he leaves, you and Sally flop down on the couch with her head in your lap. “So,” she asks, “good night?”

“Yeah,” you answer as she takes the bear from you and turns it over in her hands. “Definitely a good night.”

“Such a nice gift. When did you tell him about this little guy?”

“Like… six months ago.”

“Um, okay, are we ignoring how cute it is that he remembered that?” Sally sits up and leans in conspiratorially. “Or do you think he bought it the day after you told him and has been hanging onto it all year or something?”

“No, no, probably not,” you say, reaching out and pulling the bear out of her hands. “Nick probably told him to get it.”

“No, I didn’t.” Nick appears at the bottom of the stairs in his PJs and runs a hand through his hair. “Salome’s right, actually – he got it a couple months ago. He’s basically asked me once a week since then if I was sure you wouldn’t find it weird or if it was stepping over a boundary or something. He had to find a seamstress and ask her to make the bow and sew it on herself.” Laughing, Nick continues, “I think he told me that he gave her a fifty-dollar tip or something.”

“Oh my God, I just realized that it matches your dress!” Sally snatches the bear from you again and holds it up. “I told you this dress was a good idea. We should take a picture of you and send it to him!”

“What? No!” You take it back from Sally – again – and put it on the end table so she can’t reach it. “Why are you guys being so weird about this?”

“Duh, because it’s cute!” Sally replies. When she looks over at Nick, though, he gives her a small shake of his head. “But, uh… if you don’t wanna keep talking about it, then I think we could make this night even better by starting our annual rewatch of all the classic Christmas movies. And maybe Nicholas will let us have some of that red wine…?”

“Gray took it home,” he says. “Besides, there’s plenty of eggnog left for you if you want it.”

“Ooh. Good point.” Sally swings her legs over the side of the couch and hops off. “Where are the snacks?”

“In the cupboard.” He watches her go. “You can take what you want, Salome, but please use a plate!”

When Sally’s left the room, Nick turns to you. “Gray likes his present, by the way.” There’s a twinkle in his eye and what looks like both a smirk and a smile at the same time on his lips. “And you know, Mari, he’s probably going to wear this one for years until it breaks too.”

… Oh.

You hadn’t thought about it like that. Gray, wearing the watch that you got him for Christmas years from now…

Fuck, your heart can’t take all this sentimentality. You’ll just get him a gift card next year instead.

#oc: mari #pairing: mari x gray #mind blind #HI i have lots to say about this. i've flopped back and forth between hating it and liking it all week and right now i hate it but #i wanna post it bc i like. worked hard on it and stuff.#anyway it's probably bad and there's probably something that makes it not canon but i hope everyone enjoys anyway ?#and doesn't think it's super cringe and a fail gamer moment ?#anyway idk sorry i. maybe i'll talk more about this in a reblog or seperate post #i'm feeling rlly anxious about posting this idk why. alright. whatever. okay. bye.#my writing #my ocs

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