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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

lowkey | teaser

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ SERIES RELEASE DATE: ~end of may / beg of june

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 1.2k

warnings: the tracks/mixes included in the party playlist can get really explicit so please do not listen if it makes you uncomfortable - i apologize in advance; otherwise, not much with this teaser besides alcohol consumption, intoxication and some grinding? oc and sunmi are getting kook and his boys frat party ready!!

tags: @taegularities @jimidol @miinoongi @bluesharksandfish @ggukkieland @unicornbabylover @thebeebi @preciouschimine @ladyartemesia @moonchild1 @jikookiekosmos @marcoazz2 @kootaes @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle

"Wait, fuck. Are you sure we're gonna be okay?" Hoseok watches you and Sunmi pour the shots with a slight scrunch, Taehyung covering his nose at the smell of the vodka.

"Yes." You laughed. "You'll be okay. You just have to pace yourselves."

"Fuck that, go all out." Sunmi giggles, making you shoot her a look.

"Sunmi, no! They haven't drank like that before!" You pass them their red cups. You watch as Jungkook and Jimin make faces when they look inside the cup, Taehyung damn near gags at the smell up close and Hoseok gives his cup a little shake.

"Soooo, we can't take this in two sips or something?"

"Absolutely illegal to babysit." Sunmi smiles, obviously having the time of her life right now.

"Babysit?" Jimin repeats.

"Yeah, like taking your sweet time to finish a drink or shot."

"Ah, babysitting." Jimin says, even though he has never heard of the term before besides actually babysitting [like a child or something].

"Ready?" They all nod, making you smile. "Cheers, guys!" You and Sunmi take the shot with ease, while the four are struggling in their own ways.

Jungkook making the most sour face you have ever seen someone do.

Jimin tilting his head back against their couch, eyes closed and definitely in pain.

Taehyung gagging even more that his nose is turning red?

Hoseok is yelling at the burning sensation crawling down his chest.

"You guys okay?" Sunmi cracks up. "Another?"

"Girl, did I not just say the point of this was to pace yourself?!"

"We're in their living room, Y/N. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Pour another." Jungkook says, making Sunmi nod excitedly, in approval.

"See, your boyfriend is down. Let's do it. Besides, when it comes to Delta Chi's shit, they can get a little crazy."

"Fine, but none of you are moving. You're staying right here in this apartment." You say, pouring another shot into their cups. After this, you were gonna call it quits with the drinking, absolutely 100%. Solely because you were worried for the boys and how it was their first time drinking so intensely. And so after that shot, you place your cup on the table, ready to put your foot down—

By pouring another shot, and another, until their faces were almost painted red and they're starting to stumble all over the place.

"Oh shiiiit, the world no longer feels flat." Taehyung says drunkily, burping in the process.

"Okay!" Jimin says, sloppily standing and pointing a finger. "Dance time!"

"Look, the thing with dancing is that you need to keep it chill. Don't make it look like you're trying too hard to vibe to whatever song is playing." You agree with Sunmi silently as you sit on the couch, in between Jungkook and Jimin’s spot. Sunmi watches as Hoseok gets a little aggressive with whatever the hell he's doing with his arms right now and she stands, shaking her head. "No, no." She puts his arms down. "Less tense, just go with the flow." She begins to dance to the music, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung following along. "Yeah, like that!" You get up to join them with Jungkook, but they start doing their own thing, breaking off into robot-pop-like dance moves, making the both of you laugh. You all continue to dance along until a more seductive song comes on. The only person to take notice really is Jungkook and he steps back a bit, unsure of how to handle this. Do this. He was hoping none of the guys would bring it up—

"Wait, how do we dance with girls?" Taehyung says, doing some hip movements with his hands in front of him as if imagining a pretty lady dancing in front of him. "Cause I really wanna try and dance with someone at least once."

"Not.. like that. Please." Sunmi lowers his hands. "You definitely won't get that one time if that's how you come off." You're still bouncing a little on your feet, making Sunmi nod at you. "Jungkook, go grab your girl." He swallows the lump in his throat, doe eyes wider than wide. "Come on, don't be shy. I'm sure you two are planning to do much worse, if you haven’t already." Right, he thinks. He always has to remind himself that Sunmi has no idea you two are faking this. He's surprised, honestly, that his friends haven't slipped, especially being this tipsy.

"Oh, uh—okay." He scratches his head and looks at you, as if he was calling for your help through his eyes.

"Just come up behind me and put your hands on my hips. Bring me close to you." And Jungkook does what he's told, coming up behind you and gently placing his hands on your hips. He digs his fingers into them, bring you close as you work your hips against his.

"See, that was pretty good. Just keep it natural, always look at the girl and read her body language, her look, if she's willing. Don't be a fucking creep about it."

"Oh, Jungkookie! You look like a natural!" Hoseok calls out, making him step away from you to sit back down on the couch. Session over, at least for Jungkook. But fuck, he could feel himself getting hard beneath his jeans and he didn't know what the fuck to do. He wants to keep you close, dance on you, have fun with you. But he definitely didn't want his hard-on getting in the way and fucking scaring you off.

God.

Though, the unexpected happens after everyone starts dancing around again and having fun to the music. You look at him behind you, sitting silently on the couch while he watches everyone and welcome yourself onto his lap.

"Oh fuck?" He says, questioningly. Now what!? His hands are up in the air because he isn't sure if this is a mistake or if you're really willing to sit on his lap right now.

"Kook." You say, pretty tipsy yourself. "Hold onto me." You say lowly.

"Right." He says, kicking himself into boyfriend mode. You keep your eyes on him until he rests his hands on your thighs. "That okay?" You nod, but there's a look on your face that he can't necessarily read and you're fucking thriving off of it. He was cute as your fake boyfriend, and you weren't gonna lie, you loved seeing him squirm under you like this. You start to grind your hips onto him, rolling them against his crotch nicely, slowly.

"Oh my god, Jungkookie's living a dream. He's getting a lapdance from his girlfriend." Taehyung watches, making Jimin drunkily cheer him on.

Surprisingly, Jungkook grips you tighter, pressing himself tightly against you to feel all the friction. He follows your movements, the pace and fuck, is he loving every minute of it. It could be because of the alcohol, but whatever it was, he was with it. You, ontop of him, in these shorts— nice, fat ass just working him like they do in the music videos.

You were a fucking dream.

The song stops and goes back to a more upbeat song, making you stop and laugh at the vibe change. Jungkook feels the heat rising in his cheeks, biting onto his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big at you.

"You pick up quick, Kook. Are you sure you don't dance and sing?" He chuckles.

"Positive." As you're about to make your way off of his lap, he holds onto your hips and presses you back down. You turn to look, seeing him shaking his head at you before leaning his head forward near your arm. "Where are you going? Can't you just sit with me for a bit?" You bite your lip and nod your head, getting yourself comfortable on his lap.

"For practice?" You tease.

"Thought you didn't need me to say that anymore." He fires back, causing heat to rise in your own cheeks due to this sudden sexual tension you’re feeling. You blame it on the alcohol. However, it doesn’t change the fact that he learns quick. For damn sure.

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savoies · 3 years

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i don't know you yet - anthony beauvillier.

summary: soulmates. they exist right? y/n and tito live their daily lives doing activities thinking if the right person will ever come.

word count: 2k.

warnings: maybe a few bad words. hopefully angst.

a/n: i think this might be my first "angst" so please let me know what you think. i am so proud of this work and honestly probably one of my bests. loosely inspired by idk yet by alexander 23. thank you so much to @puckbuddies for all the help, love ya!

taglist + tagging a few folks: @quintnsbyfield @vincecdunn @bigboigritty @ana-maa @puckshitbitch @alxvlasic @stfukie @laurenairay @damn-dunner-29 @kaitieskidmore1 @thelionkingpw @aria253264 @hartsyhart @boesxr @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @teenagekook @barzysthighs

tagging some lovely folks: @laurenairay @konecny-s @bestestbenn @vinceduhn @folkloreflyers .

(*credit to gif owner.*)

Many people imagine their dream person or think of the person they want to date or marry from a young age. Y/N remembered going to sleepovers and her friends talking about how they wanted a boyfriend with blue eyes and blonde hair or brown hair and brown eyes. But when Y/N's turn came around she always said the same thing "I don't care what they look like as long as they are the right person for me." And that's when the game would end. Because twelve year olds could not fathom that everyone had their person and at some point they'd meet and everything would work out. Her mindset was set as growing up her mom would always tell her the same story. When I met your dad I just knew she'd say.

Tito had dated his fair share of girls. Blonde, brown haired, a red head, and a spontaneous colored haired girl here and there. But none caught his attention. Not that they weren't pretty or anything but Tito was not really one to date and dump. He liked forming connections and really getting to know them. But being a hockey player was not really quite helpful. They'd be invited to a party here and there and of course Mat begged Tito to go with him because he needed a wingman and Tito could not really say no to his best friend.

~~~~

Y/N had believed she had met her special person her second year into college. A tall lanky boy with brown hair. They had both met in the library when they reached for the same book. Might seem cheesy but she took it as a hint. After "considently" bumping into eachother in the library many more times he had asked her out. Most of their dates were pretty basic just like her. Maybe that's why she enjoyed them so much. Two years. Two years is how long she dated him for. But sadly people fall out of love. She had heard about that happening only in movies. Never really thinking that it could happen to her. But then she heard some of the worst words anyone could ever hear. "I don't love you anymore."

Her heart was sad. Her first real relationship. Who she believed was the one. But she understood. This wasn't her fairytale. But she was broken. Her still being in love. Thoughts invading her mind. What did she do wrong? What could she have done better? So after that it took her time to open up again, to bring those walls down to handsome looking strangers. She wasn't one just to date for fun. So she rarely did bring them down. Sometimes she'd sit in her dark room late at night letting her thoughts consume her. How maybe she'd never find the one, how she was unlovable, how she had way too high of expectations to believe there was someone for everyone.

~~~~~

Every Monday morning Y/N would go to the same coffee shop and get the same order, a medium coffee with sugar and cream. To her it was a nice way to start the week. She had been doing it since she moved to Brooklyn in 2016.

Tito had been begging Mat to go with him to this coffee shop in Brooklyn that apparently had great coffee. Tito was what you could call a food and drinks connoisseur. Having cooked many times for his teammates and best friend.

" Come on Mat, Grace and Anders said it the best they've had and they've lived here much longer than us. Plus you owe me for getting you that girls number last week, don't forget to call her." Tito wasn't one to get acquainted with Mat's hookups but he did feel bad when the next morning Mat was kicking them out before sunrise.

Mat finally agreed and here they were on a Monday morning way too early for Mat's liking for a straight black coffee that was "rich in flavor" according to Tito. It was quite busy for it being Monday but they patiently waited in line.

Y/N gathered her stuff and exited the crowded coffee shop, careful not to bump into anyone and headed her way to work.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes they ordered two medium coffees and headed out to the busy New York streets.

She had walked about ten minutes away from the coffee shop before she realized that she forgot her phone. Y/N checked her watch and noticed that if she was gonna make it on time she had only five minutes to retrieve her phone. So she quickly but carefully dogged through people as she made her way back to the coffee shop.

Tito and Mat were casually walking back to the car having parked it a few blocks down when they saw someone running their way. Tito wasn't paying much attention due to savoring his cup of coffee which to him was totally worth the twenty minute drive and six dollars.

"Dude she's hot." Mat turned around and checked out the girl that somewhat seemed like she was running away from something instead of for something.

"Mat that's gross. You literally didn't even see her face and are labelling her hot just by seeing her ass, I understand why you need a wingman now."

"Hey!" Mat slapped his best friend's shoulder as Tito drank his coffee trying to stifle a laugh (which he failed) since Mathew knew it was true.

~~~

Y/N had heard it many times from her friends, family, and probably even a few strangers. It was time to get a date. She wasn't desperate to really get anywhere. She was a 22 year old living in one of the most populated states in the country. She has time right? Deep down she knew that if she didn't get out there her person would probably not come by themselves. Which brings her to present day staring at her phone screen at 1am. Earlier in the day Y/N's friend texted her that she knew someone who deemed specific qualities the young romantic wanted.

~~~

Y/N met Grace in the coffee shop. She had come in a little bit later due to having the day off and sleeping in. Grace and Ruby sat in one of the corners of the small spaced coffee shop and Y/N sat next to them trying to stay in her own space but finding it quite difficult when there was a cute baby trying to get her attention a few feet away. After Grace apologizing for invading her space and Y/N saying it was really no problem they continued to meet in the coffee shop every once in a while. And a friendship blossomed later having exchanged numbers.

Grace was great. She listened to Y/N's tall tales of soulmates and love and she even told her about how she found her love (which she referred to as anders, y/n never having met him before) and how they had a beautiful baby girl together. She knew Y/N wanted someone who was sweet and kind and liked forming deeper connections so when she had an encounter with Tito she knew she should text her.

~~~

It was a late Friday night and the boys were celebrating a win in a rowdy club somewhere in downtown Brooklyn. The single guys trying to get the attention of some girls by buying them drinks. Grace had been standing at the bar with some of the other girls when she saw that Tito sat alone at the booth that occupied their stuff.

"Seems like our stuff doesn't really need a bodyguard, why aren't you out there buying a girl a drink or dancing?" She spoke somewhat loudly due to the pounding music and shouting of people.

"Not really my thing." He smiled softly back at his captain's wife. Tito was not fond of clubs or bars. He felt as though it was way too loud to actually have a proper conversation with someone. That's when it clicked. Of all the times the team had gone out not once had Tito really smiled or joked around with a girl. Grace connected the dots and decided to text Y/N in the morning.

~~~

A simple message was displayed across Y/N's screen. Simply reading "hey i know dates aren't your thing but i know someone who i think you might like."

After sleeping on it for quite a few more hours than she needed to, she decided to bite the bullet and text Grace back. "Why the hell not."

Not even two minutes later Y/N's phone dinged indicating a response. "Perfect, I'll let him know."

There she sat on her bed over thinking if this was really a good idea.

Tito was way over his head. Grace had texted him that she knew of a girl who was quite exactly Tito's type. At least she loosely stated it that way. He had agreed only on the condition that Mat was having a girl over later tonight and he wanted to be as far away from that as possible since they did have pretty thin walls. So exactly five hours later here he stood outside the infamous coffee shop which held the secret ingredient to the best coffee he had. Grace didn't tell him much other than her hair color which was quite difficult to find in New York since every once in a while a sea of same colored haired girls would come by. He waited outside deeming it more on the gentlemenier side. Whatever that meant. Ten minutes later wrapping his coat on tighter and checking his watch for what seemed to be the five time. Maybe she stood him up. I mean he didn't have too many redeeming qualities. I mean hell he lived in New York and didn't like clubs, parties, and sometimes hated big crowds which were what seemed to be a big part of where he lived. Rocking on the back of his heels he decided to wait a bit longer thinking that hopefully she was just running late.

~~~

Indeed she had been running quite late. Her cousin had pleaded her to take care of her baby because she had some errands to run. She didn't mind at all since she did in fact love babies. But when four thirty rolled around and still no sign of her cousin she began to worry. She didn't have this mystery dudes number (which Grace referred to him as Anthony) so she couldn't really text him that she was gonna be a bit late. She really hoped he would wait because all throughout the day her excitement grew more and more. Finally five rolled around and Y/N quickly handed off the baby and changed into something more date worthy rushing out the door in the cold breeze of the afternoon. She rushed to the coffee shop and as she arrived she could see a tall stranger looking down at the ground presumably freezing since it was pretty cold. She dodged a few people hoping that this was indeed her date.

"Hi uhm are you Anthony." She spoke up and she stood awkwardly pulling the sleeves of her sweaters. "Gosh please be Anthony or im just gonna look like an idiot." She whispered.

Tito turned around at a soft voice and was faced with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her baby hairs were sticking out and her nose and cheeks were red from the cold, she seemed to be somewhat out of breath.

Y/N looked up and caught sight of some of the most memorizing eyes she had ever seen. This handsome stranger who she presumed as Anthony had amazing features.

Tito cleared his throat and reached out his hand. "Hi uhm yeah im Anthony but you can call me Tito, or at least that's what my friends call me." He began to ramble.

"Nice to meet you im y/n." They shook hands and a soft electric shock was felt between the two. They both glanced up and she knew it was too soon to tell since she had just met him but she felt an extra special connection with him.

#ari speaks #hockey boys #hockey #tito beauvillier #i don't know you yet anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier x reader #new york isles #new york islanders #ny isles #nhl fics #hockey fics #hockey fic #nhl fic #ok i know i make out mat to be kind lf a douche oop #ahh im so happy how this turned out #please let me know what you think #im so happy to show you guys

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pendragonfics · 3 years

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Thief Stole Your Heart

Paring: Bilbo Baggins/Reader

Tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns for reader, alternate universe - bookstore, alternate universe - modern: no powers, actual thief Bilbo Baggins, bookstore clerk Reader, knitting, marriage proposal, awkward flirting

Summary: Bilbo met Reader at a bar, and years later, they're still going strong. What happens when he enters their bookstore and starts acting strange?

Word Count: 1,616

Current Date: 2020-12-22

The first time that you met Bilbo, it was at a pub that both of you didn’t want to be in. With your cider in hand and his beer, you bumped into one another during a kerfuffle at the bar. Something to do with a drinking game between two young men, a tall blonde and a tattooed construction worker gone too far. Whatever it was, you were left wearing his brew, and he yours. Which led to introductions, apologies, and frankly was a tolerable exit from being the third wheel. When you explained you worked in a book store, he had introduced himself as an adventurer.

He didn’t appear to be the sort of man who was an adventurer. He had a trim haircut, clean face, and earnest smile. Wore an unembellished sweater, had a novel tucked under his arm and drank the same beer the whole night. Adventurer. It wasn’t until you realised he had come in the company of a notorious motorbike crew when it sunk in.

This man you had met, the kind-faced, soft, polite man was their…er…handyman. A man who was handy with his hands. In all honesty, didn’t bother you. You were quite the unadventurous type; you drank the same thing every time you visited the cafe, read the same magazines and lived a boring, safe life that kept you in a box. And Bilbo didn’t — and it was for that fact which made you intrigued.

Intrigued enough for the pair of you to remain in each others company for years. Three years and eight months of many a run-in and unplanned shenanigans, somehow, you and Bilbo were still together. You had seen each other in some strange places, too. He had cancelled plans to nurse you back to health (that time after food poisoning, or that time you had the flu or that time with that stomach bug), and you had been his plus one to his unpleasant and estranged extended family gatherings. But mostly, in all that time, you had worked your way from sales clerk to finally, the owner of Shire Softcovers & Hardback Bookstore.

Which led to where you were present. Sitting behind the register on a quilted soft stool, you perch with a ball of yarn between your feet, on the floor. It’s hidden to customers who enter the store, but to those who can hear the telltale cli-click, cli-click’s, you’re knitting. Usually, there were chores, but they were done. Usually, there were customers, but on account of the blustery mid-autumn Sunday afternoon, there were none. Usually, you would be on your phone, but it was flat — and you had forgotten the cord.

It was supposed to be a scarf, but no matter what you did, it wasn’t seeming to grow longer at all. If anything, you swore that the yarn was cursed. An artefact from a horrid hag from a long-gone era who hated knitting. But whatever it was, you kept at it; because it was better than staring out the window, and watching Doctor Peredhel chasing unruly teenagers from his clinic (although you knew you should agree with the older healthcare professional’s actions, it was amusing to watch aspiring graffiti artists misspell gonorrhoea).

It wasn’t until you realised the scarf was growing wider, not long when the little bell at the door tinkled. Glancing from your accursed craft, you met eyes with the newcomer to the store. But instead of it being a customer, it was none other than your boyfriend, and partner in crime.

“Bilbo, thank goodness you’re here,” you gasp, abandoning your knitting to rush to him. Dramatically, you kiss his cheek and pose like a starlet from the silent film era. “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you hadn’t arrived.”

“Slow day?” He chuckled. Untying his scarf, Bilbo pecked at your cheek.

“The slowest, ” You agree. Straightening the already perfect display of political autobiographies, you add, “I honestly can’t believe it, Bilbo. Nobody at all today. Not even Mister Radagast or Tauriel.”

He raises an eyebrow and sheds his coat onto the desk. He’s wearing a dark green sweater underneath, and the collar of his shirt beneath is rumpled and not on the top. The pockets of his trousers seem full, with an outline of a phone and keys, but there are other lumpy shapes you don’t recognise. At the moment between your remark and the next to follow, he scratches at his left palm idly, his fingernails short and clean. Either his eczema is back, or he’s true to his word and truly has quit smoking.

“I don’t know about the old hippy,” Bilbo says. He takes your hand in his, and swings it somewhat awkwardly — to someone else, yes, but to the pair of you, it’s comforting — at his side. “But I saw Tauriel in the ’shop today. I think Kili invited her.”

You pause. “Tauri and Thorin’s nephew?” You bite your lip, mind full of unpinned threads working their way to conclusions. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

“They seem quite oblivious to it all, however,” Bilbo continues. “Maybe they’ll realise their feelings. Maybe not. They are young.”

“Is this your way of saying that we are not?” You inspect him, part curious, part suspicious.

He wasn’t always so clumsy with his words; Bilbo was a man of forethought, in both his private and work life. It paid off marvellously when he worked for the heist against the antisocial Mr Smaug (a rather awful venture capitalist whose hoard hurt the town for decades) and many other of the jobs carried out by the Oakenshield Thirteen.

“What?” He blinks. “N-no.”

You step around him, trying to see the side he’s favouring, but Bilbo reacts quick enough, circling you as you circle him. His left brow is raised as he watches you watching him, and you narrow your eyes, trying to read his face for clues.

But there are none.

“All right,” you hum, unsatisfied with the turn of events, “Keep your secrets.”

“I will,” he replies.

“Good.” You nod. “I’ll be over here,” you start walking toward the counter, back to the knitting you’d left, but all the while, your eyes never leave Bilbo’s. “…if you need me.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” he responds too fast, and too high a pitch. “But…if I do need you…”

“I’ll be here,” you finish his sentence.

You continue the row of stitches, not bothering to unpick the problematic extra lines of knots you had put there before. As you resume knitting, the wool on the floor rolling about the stool, you can’t help but notice Bilbo as he strolls down the otherwise empty aisles of the bookstore. His hands are in his pockets, pushed deep so you can’t see an outline of anything else that’s in there. He walks from the adventure novels, past the self-help section, and further into nonfiction. You’re trying to pearl the stitches, focusing all of your efforts onto it. But all you can think of is that he’s in the photography section, which borders onto the wedding planning—

You leave your knitting once more, rushing to find Bilbo. You dart around the shelves, trying to find him. You try to stand as tall as you can to see over the shelves, but as low as they are, you can’t seem to see the familiar honey brown head of hair that belongs to Bilbo. You stop, and turn around, hoping he hasn’t snuck behind you in an attempt at a prank, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Lost?” He says, behind you.

You turn once more, and standing as if he had been there the whole time, Bilbo tosses a small box in his hands, catching it with ease. His eyes are on you, but the box still falls and rises in his hands perfectly. If you didn’t know his occupation, you would be impressed by the hand-eye-coordination that goes into the party trick. But still, you are impressed, and slightly out of breath from the surprise of it, and you feel somewhat confused as to his behaviour.

“I can’t believe I messed up that segue,” Bilbo says under his breath, catching the box. He doesn’t throw it again; instead, he fiddles with it, single-handedly. “It was supposed to be —” He runs his empty hand through his hair, and slowly, sinks to his feet as if he’s to tie a shoelace.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is shaky.

He frowns, from his knees. “I suppose I’m just down here. You know. With a little box that I bought, and I thought of you and all that I love about you.”

“Bilbo…” you whisper. “I—”

He blinks, a furious blush coming across his face. He sighs and starts to stand up. But before he’s at his full height, you sink to your knees and take him in your arms. It was supposed to be something soft, something romantic; because it had taken you too long to realise what he had been alluding to, and disheartened, he was backing out of it. But instead of the gesture you wished to show, it came out somewhat…like a football tackle, or like a security guard to a thief.

“What was that for?” Bilbo asks, confused, from the floor.

You fumble for the box beside him, and awkwardly, atop him on the itchy carpet of the bookstore, you hover above him, wishing to not crush him. He laughs, softly, and you lay your forehead against his chest, the laughter consuming you too.

“I love you too,” you say, through the laughter. “And I’ll have you and your little box if that’s okay with you.”

#bilbo baggins #Bilbo Baggins x reader #Bilbo Baggins/reader #Bilbo/reader #Bilbo x reader #Bilbo lotr x reader #Bilbo lotr/reader #lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #the hobbit x reader #pendragonfics #chaotic--lovely #gender neutral reader

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pcychedelic · 4 years

Text

Purple Rain (Part II)

Relationship(s): Kim Junmyeon/Reader

Tags: Professor-student relationship, college AU, slowburn; angst, smut

Rating: Explicit (mature themes, strong language, and sex)

Synopsis: After a fateful encounter that results in the trunk of your car getting wrecked, the handsome stranger responsible for it turns up in your lecture hall and introduces himself as the professor.

Chapters [Word Count]:

Part I: Chapters 1 to 5

Chapter 6 [3.6k]

Chapter 7 [3.8k]

Chapter 8 [3.4k]

Chapter 9 [6.0k] + Chapter 9.5 [4.2k] ᴺᴱᵂ

Next update to be determined

Click on the links above to read the latest chapter on Asianfanfics (AFF).

Friendly reminder that mature words are censored when you’re reading as a guest on AFF, so make sure to log into your AFF account and turn off the content filter to read the chapters without censors.

Read Chapter 6 below.

Chapter 6

The urgent knocking on your apartment door interrupts you in the middle of making dinner. You glance at the wall clock, the time reading 9:01 p.m., and you wonder who could possibly be at the other side of the door at this hour. You aren’t expecting anyone this late at night.

You pad toward the door in your bare feet. A familiar face greets you when you peek through the peephole, though the sight of him standing outside your apartment door isn’t familiar at all. It’s so strange that you have to remind yourself that you aren’t dreaming.

You open the door.

“Junmyeon?”

“Hi,” he smiles. “Can I come in?”

“Uh…”

“Were you studying?” he asks, already taking off his jacket. “I hope I’m not bothering you. I should’ve texted first, but I kinda came here on a whim.”

You shake your head. “No, no. I was just making dinner.” You open the door wider and let him inside, bringing him house slippers to change into.

“What’s for dinner?” He looks around your apartment, his eyes eventually settling on your kitchen counter. A smirk creeps into his lips when he sees the pot of water over the stove and the noodle packs. “Instant ramen,” he says. “How very… college student of you.”

“Hey!” you protest. “I happen to like instant ramen, thank you very much. It’s delicious and it’s cheap.”

Junmyeon scoffs as he sits on the couch. “You’ve deluded yourself into liking it because it’s cheap,” he corrects. “Stop eating that garbage. Your body will thank you in ten years.”

“I’m sorry, what are you doing here again?” you ask, because you’re pretty sure that he isn’t there to just criticize your dinner choices. “And how did you come up? Mr. Bong just let you?”

You’re not sure if you’re seeing things, but you can swear you just saw Junmyeon’s cheeks blush a little. “Oh, your doorman let me up because… um, because he saw us…”

“Oh.” Now you’re blushing, too. “Right.”

You know that he’s talking about the night of your birthday, the night he drove you home from Esperanza, the night you kissed.

You still remember everything about that kiss, even the tiniest of details. You still remember how Junmyeon’s lips still had a faint taste of strawberries because of the ice cream the two of you shared before he drove you home. You still remember how his perfume smelled like lavender, warm and comforting. You still remember how soft his lips were, and even now, about a week later, a phantom of that kiss still lingers over your mouth.

It had been everything you imagine it would be, and more.

Definitely more.

“Water’s boiling,” Junmyeon says, reeling you back into the present. You head toward the kitchen and put the noodle squares into the pot. Junmyeon follows you, this time settling on a seat at the dining table. “I came here because… Well, I wanted to talk about that night.”

Your heart suddenly feels a bit too heavy on your chest. He’s here to lecture you again, isn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything. But you feel him stand up from his seat and walk toward you, coming closer and closer until he’s close enough that the skin on your neck tingles from his proximity.

“I’m not,” he whispers.

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not sorry.” You turn around, and the first thing you see is Junmyeon’s chest. He towers a couple of inches over you, so you have to look up to meet his eyes. “I’m not sorry,” he repeats. “God knows how many times I’ve imagined that happening. I know it’s a wrong thing to imagine, but it’s true. And I’m not sorry.”

“Jun—”

“But,” he cuts you off, “that doesn’t mean we can be reckless now. I like you. A lot. Maybe more than a lot. And I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, which is why we have to be careful.”

“I understand.” Truly, you do. Junmyeon has said it over and over again, that he doesn’t want you to get in trouble because of him and especially now that you’re just a few exams away from graduating.

After all, you know now how Junmyeon feels about you. I like you, he had said. That’s a guarantee you didn’t have before, and now that you do have it, it makes the complications more bearable.

“You only have about a month and a half left,” Junmyeon says. “After that, we’ll talk again. If our feelings haven’t changed, that is.”

You shake your head. “I’m afraid my feelings aren’t going anywhere. Not sure about yours, though…”

Junmyeon laughs, his cheeks beaming as he does. “My feelings don’t change so easily, either.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“I can’t,” he says. “I have to grade a bunch of term papers. I still haven’t read and graded yours, to be honest. Besides, I’m not really a huge fan of instant noodles.”

You playfully slap his arm. “Stop making fun of my dinner.”

“Alright,” Junmyeon laughs again, and you can swear that it’s the sweetest sound you’ve heard all your life. “Good luck on the rest of your finals.”

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Don’t I get a kiss? For good luck?”

The smile dissolves on Junmyeon’s face. He steps toward you, walking until his face is only a couple of inches away from yours. He cups your cheek in his right hand, the pad of his thumb brushing your lower lip. An electric jolt races up your spine.

But he pulls away.

“No more kisses until graduation,” he says.

You had expected this, but it was worth a try. “And after graduation?”

“We’ll see,” Junmyeon says. You catch the corner of his lips curling into a smirk once more before he suppresses it.

* * *

On your way back home from your last final exam, you run into an old friend at the convenience store you always go to after school.

You almost hadn’t recognized him. The last time you’d had a good look at him had been a couple of months ago, and that hadn’t exactly been a friendly encounter.

“Chanyeol?” you call incredulously as you approach him by the beverage section of the store.

The last time you’d seen him, his dark mop of hair had been long and unruly, almost covering his eyebrows. Now it’s bleached strawberry blonde and cropped short, like a military haircut that has grown a bit longer, the undercuts fading from the crown. Chanyeol has always been handsome, but the clean hairstyle has accentuated his features even better.

“Long time no see,” he says in that deep voice that used to tie your stomach in knots. It still does, actually, but maybe not as much as before.

“Your hair… Wow.”

You can’t stop staring at him. He doesn’t quite look like the Chanyeol you knew, but at the same time, seeing him look so differently floods your brain with so many memories, and surprisingly, none of them are bad.

Perhaps it’s because he looks like a better version of himself, the version you’ve only seen in the happy memories you have of him, the version you would’ve enjoyed to get to know more back when you still loved him.

You still feel something, especially now that he’s standing right in front of you, but you’re sure that it isn’t love. It’s more of a what-if. No other term can encapsulate Chanyeol better. What if.

“Is it bad?” Chanyeol asks shyly, running his hands through his new hair. The dimple that you had always found adorable appears on his cheek as he smiles.

“No, no. It’s good. It’s very good.”

Chanyeol laughs. “That’s a relief. I thought it looked horrible on me since everyone can’t stop staring.”

“Well, it’s just that… You look so different.”

“Yup,” he says, “that was the idea. I wanted to be different. Figured I should look the part while I’m at it.” He looks down at his feet, and swallows nervously. “Listen, um… I’d like to talk about a few things, if that’s okay with you.”

You stare at him for a while, trying to gauge his expression. He looks apologetic — sad, almost — and you can tell which direction this ‘talk’ would be veering toward.

But there are still some loose ends to tie up, and you figured that this conversation is long overdue.

You nod. “Sure, Chanyeol. Let’s talk.”

The afternoon is relatively cool for an April one. The streets are filled with college students going out to eat and whatnot, filling the air with the buzz of chatter and laughter.

You and Chanyeol have taken a table outside the convenience store, a rectangular umbrella sticking out of its center and hanging over the two of you. Wisps of steam rise from the cups of coffee you’ve bought from the store. Neither one of you has drank.

The tension in the atmosphere is thick, not with resentment, but with awkwardness. It’s as if the two of you have forgotten how to talk with each other. You want to ask him, How did we end up like this? but you already know the answer to that.

Finally, when you can’t stand the silence any longer, you say, “What did you want to talk about, Yeol?”

The nickname feels strange as it rolls off your tongue, like it no longer belongs there, but you say it anyway to show Chanyeol that you no longer harbor bad feelings toward him.

You’ve forgiven him, even if he hadn’t apologized properly, because that’s the only way for you to stop hurting. And it has worked. So far, at least.

“Right,” he says. “I’ve talked to Kyungsoo and Jihyun, too. About the, um, way I’ve been acting for the past months. I’m sorry about ghosting you guys suddenly. It’s just that… I needed a lot of time to myself. To think about the shit I did. I’m sorry if it took so long for me to figure out.”

“I understand,” you answer.

Not It’s okay or It’s fine or any of that. I understand. That’s the best you can give him — your understanding. You’ve forgiven him based on that, but that doesn’t erase the pain he’s caused you.

Chanyeol continues. “I’ve apologized to Kyungsoo and Jihyun about those things, and you’re the last person I wanted to apologize to because… well, you’re the one I hurt the most.”

The cups of coffee have gone cold on the table, and so has your heart.

“I know that apologizing doesn’t cut it, but still, I’m sorry,” says Chanyeol. There’s no question about the sincerity of his tone. It’s the most genuine sentence you’ve heard from him in all the years that you’ve known him. “I’m sorry that I led you on, that I took advantage of how you felt for me, that I didn’t think my actions through when I was with you. I just want you to know that it’s not your fault. None of it is. It’s me. It’s all me. I was too afraid of my own feelings. That’s the truth.”

You stare at him, your throat beginning to tighten.

Chanyeol’s eyes are traveling everywhere except on you. You’re not sure if you’re just imagining things or if his eyes have really turned watery.

“I know that nothing’s gonna change what happened before, and I’m not even entirely sure if it’s gonna change anything now, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the things I did, the things I’m doing right now that I may not even be aware of, the things I’ll do in the future. I’ll never do anything intentionally that’ll hurt you, I just fuck up sometimes. I’m pretty sure I’ll fuck up in the future, too, but I’ll try to be better. I’ll try if it’s the last thing I do. I care about you. A lot.”

The awkwardness seeps back into the air. Chanyeol picks up his coffee, which probably doesn’t taste that good anymore, and takes a small sip from it.

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, Yeol,” you say after a few seconds of silence. “There’s nothing else to forgive. But I appreciate your apology.”

It’s true. What’s done is done. Neither of you can do anything about the bad memories you have of each other now. All you can do is move past all that.

Chanyeol may have done a lot of hurtful things, whether intentionally or not, but it’s not his fault that he didn’t love you the way you loved him.

“I know I’m not in the position to ask for favors, but can I ask one all the same?” Chanyeol asks.

“Sure.”

“Can we be friends again?”

You smile. “I’d like that. Yeah, let’s try again as friends.”

Chanyeol’s lips curl into a smile as well, his dimple making another appearance. “Thank you. For hearing me out. And for the coffee,” he says. “See you around?”

“You can’t stay for a while?”

Chanyeol regretfully shakes his head. “I have to study for my major demo prod final.”

You can’t help but laugh. “You are different,” you say. “You never studied before.”

“Never too late to start again, right?” Chanyeol laughs. “See you around.”

You nod. Chanyeol stands up from his seat, gives you one last smile, and then disappears into the fading afternoon. Your heart feels the lightest it has been for a while, and you wonder until when this happiness will be good for this time around.

Apparently not for long.

Your phone dings, displaying an e-mail notification from the last person you’d expect it from. The message reads:

From: CCU Department of Literature ([email protected])

Good day.

You are respectfully invited to the department chair’s office for a dialogue regarding a sensitive matter. Kindly reply promptly with the schedule that works for you.

Best,

Lee Yeong Hoon, PhD

Chair, Literature Department

* * *

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst inside your chest any minute now.

You’ve never been personally asked into the department chair’s office in all your four years in college, and the churning in your gut tells you that your first visit isn’t going to be a pleasant one.

Students only ever go to their department chair’s office for either one of two reasons: (1) to ask for recommendation letters, in which case they go willingly, or (2) they fucked up and are in trouble, in which case they’re asked to go whether they like it or not.

You definitely aren’t there to ask for recommendations, so the only other logical option is that you’re monumentally screwed. As far as you’re concerned, you haven’t done anything to warrant the department chair’s attention.

Well, there is one thing…

No, you tell yourself. That’s impossible.

How could Dr. Lee have known? How could anyone have known? You and Junmyeon have been careful enough around campus. Heck, you haven’t seen him more than once outside of campus since the night he drove you home from Esperanza. It just isn’t possible that you’re in trouble because of that.

The shrill, robotic sound of a telephone snaps you back into reality.

The department secretary immediately picks it up. “Sir? Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” She turns to you, placing the handset back on the hook. “Dr. Lee is ready for you, sweetie.”

You can’t quite place the secretary’s expression. Is it distaste? Pity? Nevertheless, you thank her, and then hesitantly make your way toward the office.

The second you open the door and see who’s in the room aside from Dr. Lee, your heart sinks right through the floor. The other man is sitting with his back facing you, but he doesn’t need to turn around for you to know who he is.

Junmyeon.

He’s already occupying one of the two chairs in front of Dr. Lee’s desk, so you naturally go for the other seat. Your entire body has gone cold.

“I suppose you already know why I asked you here this morning,” Dr. Lee says, talking to no one in particular. Neither you nor Junmyeon respond.

Dr. Lee brings out a small, dark brown envelope from one of his desk drawers. He pulls out a single sheet of glossy paper — a photo, you realize — and places it gingerly on the table, as if mishandling it will make it explode.

Junmyeon doesn’t move an inch, perhaps because Dr. Lee has already shown him the photo while you were waiting outside just a few minutes ago. You straighten in your seat, craning your neck to see what’s on the photo.

It’s a bit dark and grainy, like it was taken on a phone from a distance, but there’s no doubt that the two people in the photo are you and Junmyeon. It was taken on that night, the night you sometimes still can’t believe ever happened. There it is, the first kiss you and Junmyeon have shared, immortalized in a photo meant to destroy the both of you here and now.

“This was dropped anonymously into my pigeon hole about a week ago,” says Dr. Lee. “The only people that have seen it are the people in this room right now, and my secretary. She opens my letters, you see.” He takes the photo, puts it back in the envelope, and then returns it inside his drawer. “No one will ever see it again.”

That takes a huge chunk of weight off of your chest, but it doesn’t remove all the dread.

Despite the anxiety simmering in your stomach, you manage to say, “Thank you, sir.”

Dr. Lee simply nods. The neutrality of his features is a bit unsettling, but it’s better than him being angry. Or maybe this is how he naturally is when he’s upset? That’s even more unnerving.

“As Chair of the Literature Department, it’s my responsibility to make sure that… things like this do not spill over to the entire Liberal Arts College.” He said ‘things’ with such dismay that you know he said it not because of the lack of a better term. Dr. Lee continues, “We have to deal with this on our own. Our department cannot have any more attention toward it, especially not after the scandal last trimester with Ms. Jeon. We have to cut off this problem’s head before it bites anyone else. Do you remember your Greek mythology?” he asks you.

The sudden question causes your brows to furrow in confusion. “Sir?”

“You were my student in World Literature 1. Do you remember your Greek mythology?” Dr. Lee repeats.

“Uh, I g-guess, sir.”

“Good. You will understand my analogy, then. You see, problems are like the Hydra — cut off one head, two more take its place. How did Hercules kill it?”

The answer comes naturally to you. “He burned the stumps before they grew back.”

“Good,” Dr. Lee says, his tone void of any emotion. “We have already cut off the head by not telling anyone else, and this is how we will burn the stump of this problem so that it remains beheaded.” He leans back on his chair, folding his arms in front of him. “I have already discussed this with Mr. Kim earlier, but for your sake, we will discuss it again.”

You turn to look at Junmyeon — the first good look you’ve had of him since you entered the room. His face is as rigid as a rock, his eyebrows scrunched together. He hasn’t spared you a glance, not once, since you sat down. He hasn’t talked, either.

Dr. Lee sighs. “Given your father’s position in the university and the fact that you are merely awaiting graduation, I am inclined to grant you the utmost leniency regarding this matter. Personally, I do not care about other people’s relationships, especially if they are of legal age, but unfortunately, my personal bias is suspended when I am acting as department chair. Because of that, I have no choice but to not invite Mr. Kim to teach at the university next trimester, or in the trimesters to come.”

Did you hear him correctly?

“You’re firing him,” you sum up. Your voice doesn’t feel like it’s coming from you; it feels like it’s echoing from someplace else.

Dr. Lee leans forward, propping his elbows on the wooden table. “My dear, I am not terminating Mr. Kim’s contract. I am simply not renewing it. There is a difference.”

“Well whatever you call it, it isn’t fair, it isn’t—”

“Don’t,” Junmyeon’s stern voice cuts you off. He throws you a pointed glance, silently saying, Please stop talking right now. He’s angry; that, you are sure of. What you aren’t sure of is if his anger is directed at the whole situation or simply at you.

He has the right to be furious at you, doesn’t he? After all, all of this wouldn’t be happening if you just hadn’t let yourself get swayed by your emotions and kissed him that night.

The fault is yours alone.

“It is settled,” Dr. Lee says with such finality that it’s hard to argue.

Unfortunately, you’d never been one to know when to give up. “Dr. Lee, please. It isn’t his fault, it’s mine. Please don’t—”

“Enough,” the department chair says. His tone has gone from neutral to venomous. “The only reason I am not taking your diploma away from you is because your father is the president of this university. One more outburst like that and I will no longer hesitate to forfeit your degree.” That shuts you right up. Dr. Lee then turns to Junmyeon. “It is settled,” he repeats. “Thank you for your time in this university, Mr. Kim. I wish you good fortune in all your future endeavors.”

Junmyeon stands up from his seat and offers his hand to Dr. Lee. “Thank you, sir,” he says. After the handshake, Junmyeon walks out of the room, and all you can do is watch.

What you don’t know is that it’ll be a while before you see him again.

If you enjoy my work and want to send a bit more love, you can buy me a coffee! Donors will receive a small gift from me. ♡

< Part I (Chapters 1 to 5) • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 > Chapter 8 > Chapter 9 > Chapter 9.5 >

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sheyshocked · 3 years

Text

When the Wolf Comes (2/?)

Chapter title: Your Eyes Won’t Stop Haunting Me

Summary: Simon finds what he was looking for.

Ship: Simon/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: Animal Death

A/N: Oops, forgot to post this here, so... here you go! This is where things turn a little bit dark. Please pay attention to that Animal Death tag, take care and enjoy reading!

You can also read it on ao3!

He didn’t give the poor old mare (or himself, for that matter) a moment of respite. Faster and faster, he kept spurring her on over the rocks and tangled roots of trees. Even Woofgard could barely keep up with them. He felt bad for being in such a hurry, but there was nothing he could do about it. They had no time to waste.

If they got stuck here after the nightfall, well...

Some people say that even if you traveled through these cursed woods for the entire week, you still wouldn’t get to the other side. An old wives' tale, of course. But as they were making their way through yet another bush, he could see where this was coming from.

It was all going well enough, until the horse (called Daisy by Alice, as Luther didn’t forget to mention) under him stopped and started pulling in some other direction, not caring in the slightest about the frustrated rider on her back. He tried everything, prompting her with his legs, pulling at the reins, but nothing worked. Daisy made her mind and couldn’t be bothered asking him. Stubborn packmule.

“C’mon, what’s wrong, old girl? Where are you going?” he hissed, finally giving up and letting her go wherever she pleased. He hoped she’ll tire out and he’ll be able to wrestle her under control again. He wasn’t the greatest rider of all, and riding a horse who didn’t want to cooperate was above his strength.

Soon, he realized what was happening.

There was a stream flowing nearby. A murky arm of the river, divided by a small isle in the middle. It was supplying their town with freshwater, or so Simon thought. Daisy immediately headed over to it and started drinking like she wouldn’t get another chance. Oh. So that’s why. “Sorry, poor thing. I didn’t even think to ask whether you drank or not before we headed out. Go on, then.”

Daisy didn’t need to be asked twice.

Simon patted her shoulder as some sort of an apology and used the short break to pull his feet out of the stirrups, giving them the much-needed stretch. Woah. Who would have thought horseriding took such a huge toll on the body? He could barely feel his muscles! Before he hardly ever needed to ride on his own. On some special occasions, Markus borrowed Daisy and took him on a trip. But whenever he did, he was always the one to control the horse, not him. And now he regretted not learning it when he had the opportunity.

As he was about to sit down properly again, something on the small isle in the river caught his eye.

There was a small tree, or better yet, a sapling that would one day grow into a tree. And on its lowest branch above the water, he could see something shiny on a golden chainlet.

Is that... a pendant? he wondered, trying to catch a better glimpse of it, but from this distance, he was lucky to notice it in the first place. It reminded him of something very special. But he immediately pushed that thought back.

Darn it. I hope it’s a pendant and not... what I think it is. How did it get there? I should take a look before we go. At this point, five more minutes won’t hurt.

Seeing that Daisy has just finished drinking her fill, he gently squeezed her flanks again, prompting her to enter the stream, and whistled at Woofgard to follow suit. While the former was none-too-happy about the prospect of getting wet, the latter dumbass couldn’t wait to jump into the river. Simon chuckled. Woofy always liked water way too much.

Thank goodness the creek was quite shallow in these parts.

Once they got to the small isle, Simon jumped down from Daisy’s back, letting her sate her appetite on the green branches of the tree, and went to grab the shiny thing on his own. He had to be careful – one wrong move and it could get lost in the foamy waters of the river forever.

It turned out to be much harder than expected. The thing was too far away from his grasping hands, and the twigs in his face were making it challenging to even see what he was reaching for. When he thought he almost had it, the tips of his fingers grazing the chainlet, he missed. The pendant, or whatever it was, started swaying haphazardly on the branch.

Oh no, no, no, please, don’t fall...!

It did fall.

Panicking, Simon grabbed blindly into the open space. And as chance would have it, he managed to catch the mysterious object mid-air by the chainlet.

“Phew,” he sighed in relief as he brought it closer for inspection... and sucked in a breath.

He was right all along. It wasn’t a pendant.

It was a golden ring attached to a thin necklace, with five letters engraved into its inner side and a tiny heart. The lettering read: SIMON.

And just like that, his hopes were all dashed.

“That’s... Markus’ wedding ring,” he breathed out, eyes welling with more tears than he thought he could handle at once. After Markus’ funeral, which he never wanted to attend in the first place, but had to, because people would talk otherwise, he has sworn by the empty grave that he wouldn’t cry again. And yet, here he was. Weeping and clutching the golden band to his chest like a child.

“What is it doing here?” He didn’t like where this was going. “Could he... drown in this river?”

He shuddered at the thought. Brr. There were few causes of death that scared him more than drowning. Other than being mauled by those wolf monsters.

“No, no, of course not,” he answered his own question.

Like a lunatic, he scowled, but it’s true he needed to sort his thoughts and as he had only a horse and a dog to keep him company, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Markus was always an excellent swimmer. But he wouldn’t let go of his ring like this either... Something bad had to happen. I feel it in my bones. Oh, goodness gracious, I need to find him.”

As he was sitting there, tears drying on his cheeks, Woofgard started tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. He almost ripped it off with his ardency. Simon had no idea what got into him, and to be honest, he was in no mood for games right now.

“Ouch, Woofgard, stop it!” he shouted, with a little bit more bite than he intended. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you, boy?”

But the dog didn’t stop. Quite the opposite. He grew even more desperate, barking and jumping around him like an overzealous puppy. Hm. He wouldn’t get so agonized over a stupid game anymore.

Once it became clear he wouldn’t be given break, Simon heaved a sigh. He tucked the ring safely away in the small pocket of his shirt. His hand lingered over it way longer than necessary, its coldness on his breast felt comforting. Almost as if his beloved was right there with him. He bowed his head and made a wish: Please, let him be alive and well. I’m begging you.

Then it was finally time. He got up and let the beast guide him wherever he wanted.

Woofgard didn’t hesitate. He jumped right into the river and swam to the other shore. Simon grabbed Daisy’s reins and followed him, uncertainty making his steps heavy with caution as he entered the stream.

Turns out he did the right thing.

The grass on the other side was all trampled. Someone sure did crawl out of the river in this very same place. Simon could imagine that person (could it be Markus himself?) spitting out the water that filled his lungs as he laid down for a few minutes to catch his breath. The river was indeed shallow now, but last month, when Markus went missing, it rained a lot. And the icy cold water could turn deadly even for seasoned swimmers.

Simon kneeled to inspect the spot further. Shortly after, he found a trail in the grass leading away from the river. Interesting. He decided to follow it, in hopes of finding his beloved.

What he saw next took his breath away.

Not so far from the shore, he came across old blood on the silky grass, along with shreds of some fabric. It was too torn and dirty to recognize where did it come from. But after a close examination, he discovered a small patch of a differently colored fabric, shaped like a heart.

That’s how he used to mend Markus’ clothes when he got them torn on some thorny bush.

“Oh no,” he whispered as his knees gave way beneath him, the world turning into but smudges at the corner of his vision. Why did he feel so hollow all of the sudden? Wasn’t this what was he looking for? Absolution?

No. No, it wasn’t. All he wanted was to get his husband back. Nothing less could console him.

At some point, Woofgard came closer to him and whined, cuddling up to his body. As if he couldn’t bear seeing him so sad and wanted to comfort him in the only way he could. What a good dog. It did very little to ease the pain that settled inside Simon’s chest, but at least he could throw his arms around the dog’s neck in a sloppy hug, muffling the pitiful sounds he was making in his fur.

“I shouldn’t have let this happen, Woofy. I shouldn’t have let him go hunting that time,” he mumbled, full of regret and self-blame. As if blaming himself, or the others or the stars would solve anything.

Finally, he calmed down a bit and drew back, only to realize something.

“There’s blood and pieces of clothing, but where’s his b-body? They couldn’t have devoured him whole, could they?” he grew frantic all of the sudden, looking all over the place as if he could miss something as big as a human corpse before while searching the gory scene. “I... no. No,” he shook his head. “I won’t believe this until I see his remains with my own eyes. Even if it means I’ll have to fight all monsters in this damned forest!”

Every rational thought has left him. It was all surpassed by a pang of overwhelming guilt and sorrow. And yeah, also anger. He clenched his hands into fists.

He took hold of the horse’s reins once again, determined to find out the truth. No matter how devastating it would be. Even if it killed him. He promised Markus on the day of their marriage that he would be there for him until his final breath, and he was dead set on keeping that promise.

...Daisy had a different idea, though.

Her nostrils were flaring wildly and the whites of her eyes showing. She even stuck her front legs into the dirt, refusing to make one more step closer to the gory scene. Simon heaved a sigh. Poor old girl, she had to be terrified of the metallic scent of blood in the air. He couldn’t blame her. Not that he liked it one bit either.

“Shh, come on now, don’t be scared,” he cooed while petting her long dark mane. Once he was certain she wouldn’t bite him, he coaxed her into lowering her head. That way, he could press his forehead to hers and let her feel his calm presence, the way his breath came, telling her everything would be alright. It seemed to work like a miracle.

Simon smiled, feeling quite proud of himself. It didn’t last long, however.

He whistled at Woofgard once, twice, but the dog was nowhere to be found. Panic rose in his veins and he clenched his jaw so hard it hurt as he looked around for the beast with wild eyes. “Woofy? Woofgard, where are you hiding?!”

His only answer was the sinister silence of the forest.

“Damn it, foolish dog. Oh heavens dear, I hope he doesn’t get hurt chasing rabbits now.”

He chewed at his bottom lip, contemplating his options. It was getting darker and darker still, he should head back if he wanted to make most of the dying light. But... he would never forgive himself if Woofy got lost or hurt on his accord. Besides, he felt he came too close this time to return home. So he threw caution to the wind and clicked his tongue at the old mare, encouraging her to follow him deeper into these cursed woods.

Soon, even the last bits of the light has faded. He could barely see a few steps ahead of him. Yet, he pushed on. People often said Markus’ presumed “death” has made him reckless, but he just couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. His spouse was gone. What more was there to lose?

C’mon. The dog had to be here somewhere...

A bone-chilling howl cut through the air like an arrow. Both Simon and his borrowed horse froze in place, petrified with fear. Was it a common wolf? Or something much more menacing?

Simon forced his rapidly beating heart to steady its pace as he listened on for a few seconds, trying to figure out where the sound came from. Still, despite his best efforts to stay calm, he found himself squeezing the body of Markus’ crossbow, prepared to draw it and fire at anything that moved while doing so.

Luckily for them, the howl seemed to come from a great distance. Not an imminent threat. At least for now.

Daisy didn’t seem to share his optimism, though. As soon as she heard the terrifying noise, she panicked and started rearing, a high, frightened whinny making its way out of her throat. That alone startled Simon, who knew full well that the more ruckus they make, the more likely someone or something will notice.

“Shh, calm down! They’ll find us if you won’t stop being so noisy!” he begged the wretched mare in as much hushed voice as he could muster at the moment while trying to wrestle her under control again but to no avail. He wasn’t strong or soothing enough to keep this up for long. Oh, what would he give right now to have his husband’s tender, yet commanding attitude!

...But Markus wasn’t there. He was all on his own now.

It didn’t take long before Daisy managed to escape the grip he had on her reins and flee. He watched her helplessly as she turned around and ran back towards the river. Of course. She was seeking the safety of her stable like all horses do when there’s a fire. He just hoped she would reach it without getting killed.

A quiet rustle in the nearby bushes brought Simon back into the bleak reality. Without thinking, he reached for the hunting crossbow and quickly loaded it before pointing at the shrubbery.

“Woofy?” he asked in a tiny voice when nothing moved over there for a long while. Hm. Perhaps he was overreacting. Maybe it was just his canine companion, playing hide and seek with him. It wouldn’t be the first time. Not that he believed it, but it was definitively better than... the other option.

A monstrously huge arm that appeared both human and wolf-like, covered with thick mahogany brown fur, spread out the bushes, revealing a creature straight from the townsfolk’s most vivid nightmares.

A werewolf.

Simon’s breath stuttered in his chest. Despite everything Markus has taught him before, his grip on the weapon faltered. He couldn’t act like every single one of his senses was screaming at him to do. Hell, he couldn’t even breathe! All he was able to do the precious first few seconds was watch in dismay as the creature sniffed the air. No doubt making sure whether he was alone.

An easy prey.

The monster hasn’t attacked yet, so he had time to observe it first. To prepare his aim. He has never seen a live lycanthrope before. Never expected it to be so... large. Almost twice his size, both in height and in bulk, it was towering over him like a particularly horrifying statue.

And then it roared, its smelly breath and saliva hitting his skin. Ew. He had to hold himself not to puke.

Ironically, with blood running stale (and stomach turning), he seemed to finally regain at least some of his composure.

This is the creature that took away your husband and it’s about to leap, his stern inner voice informed him. Don’t let it.

He lifted the crossbow with the silver bolt once again.

Always aim for the head. That’s what Markus used to tell him when he was teaching him how to defend himself from these beasts, so long time ago. He did just that. But when he had the monster’s face in his sights, something made him hesitate.

It had human eyes. But no matter how unsettling it was, that’s not what startled Simon. It was that one of those eyes was vivid green, the other bright blue.

Just like his husband used to have.

"No... Markus...” he wailed as the realization dawned upon him.

He never admitted to himself that this was the most likely scenario all along. Even though he knew that a person bitten by a werewolf was doomed to become one. He just couldn’t bear the thought of Markus turning into one of those things.

And here they were.

As he was struck by a new form of grief and remorse, he hasn’t realized the monster was still there, waiting for him to make a grave mistake. And he did one by lowering his guard (along with the crossbow, his only usable means of defense, given that the hunting knife he also carried wasn’t silver) long enough for it to make a move.

It lunged at him, making him startle and accidentally pull at the trigger mechanism of the crossbow. The bolt hit only empty air, however. Deep down, he felt horrible for being unable to decide whether it was a stroke of luck or a bad fortune that he missed.

A dull pain coursed through his body as the brutish creature that was once his better half mauled him to the grass. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But it was the anguish, both mental and physical, that made his sense of self-preservation kick in, and he struggled to fight against the monster, trying to roll onto his stomach and reach for the crossbow. Where was it again, damn it?! It had to fall somewhere nearby!

Sadly, his efforts were fated to fail from the very beginning. The beast weighed far more than he did and had an inhuman strength, it could easily overpower him. His wiggling around seemed to only fuel its annoyance. When he thought he almost escaped its grasp, it dragged him back down with a low, hair-raising growl. A warning. He would be a fool not to heed it.

Pleased with his sudden obedience, the beast laid one of its monstrous hands on his shoulder, preventing him from moving around too much as it sniffed at his face. The weight it was putting on him while doing so felt almost unbearable.

It was then when he heard something snap. Was it the crossbow? The knife? Soon, he found out it was neither, as a sharp, white-hot pain started coursing through his entire being.

He cried out in distress. At first, he couldn’t even find the source of the searing agony. It seemed to be everywhere, and all he wanted to do was to curl in on himself and cry (maybe throwing up first) if it wasn’t for the fiend’s hold on him. Only after the pain somewhat dulled he realized that the demon most likely broke his shoulder.

I... I can’t go on like this... I’m gonna die here, aren’t I? he thought, feeling as if he was floating already. He was about to faint, that was for certain. However, everything inside him kept screaming that he couldn’t give up the fight. Not just yet. Despite the pain it was bringing him, he mustered up the courage for one last act of defiance.

He reached for the hunting knife secured to his thigh. Steel wouldn’t do much to the hellion’s skin – but perhaps its eyes don’t have the same protection...

There it was. He squeezed the blade in his good hand. This was his last chance. But as he was about to deal the creature a killing blow, something changed. His vision blurred for a few seconds and suddenly, it wasn’t an evil spirit above him, but his husband, laughing as he won another tickle fight against him. It was but a brief flash, gone as fast as it came, but it was enough to make him falter.

No! No, deep down, he’s still the man I’ve fallen for, I can’t hurt him, I can’t...

It was too late to stop the blade back then, so he at least changed its course, landing in the thick fur of the werewolf’s neck.

Crash!

A loud sound, as if steel clashed with stone, attacked his ears. To his dismay, the knife got shattered on the impact. Not broken, shattered. And there wasn’t even a scratch on the nape of the brute’s neck. If anything, it seemed to only piss it off further.

It let out a gruesome shriek that chilled Simon down to the bones. Then... a searing pain, even worse than the one before, tore another wail out of his throat. Claws, sharp and unrelenting, dug into the flesh of his already broken shoulder, distorting it even more.

The pain had to make him pass out for a few seconds, because the next thing he remembered was the monster’s teeth, getting closer to his neck. Oh no!

A sharp stab of panic and adrenaline caused his good hand to dart out and catch the long snout mid-air in a desperate attempt to push it as far as possible from his vulnerable flesh. A futile effort. He was too badly injured and barely holding on to his consciousness to compete with the behemoth’s strength for long. It was just a miserable act of his subconsciousness meant to buy him some time.

By then, only dread kept him going. Terrible fear of those fangs, baring themselves into his throat, killing him on the spot. Or worse, biting anywhere else and subjecting him to became one of those things.

He could have sworn he heard a growl from behind the fiend’s back. Another evil spirit, waiting for its turn to feast upon his flesh? Their kind rarely hunts alone, after all.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something large, but not large enough to be a bear or another skinchanger, threw itself at the beast’s neck. The suddenness of the attack knocked it off of Simon, making it turn its back toward him and snarl at whoever or whatever came to his aid.

Oh, thank the divines, he thought as he summoned the last bits of his strength and crawled out from underneath the brute’s body. At that point, he couldn’t care less about who or what his mysterious savior was. He was just glad to be still alive.

His relief was only temporary, though.

Once freed, he noticed a huge domestic dog with his teeth bared at the demon, as if its monstrous size did nothing to deter him. Simon’s fragile heart skipped a few beats.

Woofgard. It was Woofgard. The stupid dog has found him in the worst moment possible and came to his rescue, even though he was no match for the brutish beast that was threatening his life.

“Woofy, no! Get out of here, now!” Simon cried out, voice breaking on the words because he knew that if he doesn’t do something, his foolish companion is going to get killed.

He hoped the dog’s gonna have enough reason to obey and not get in a fight he couldn’t possibly win. But no. Woofgard was stubborn as an ox and refused to move an inch. Not even when the fiend roared at him, challenging him to run. Simon could feel his stomach knot with dread. That stupid, stupid mongrel.

Frozen with both shock and uncertainty about what to do (Should I try to grab the dog and run? No, nonsense. Even in my full strength, I never managed to carry him for more than a few steps. Much less now, with a broken limb and nausea. Should I turn around and flee? But how could I look at himself in the mirror then?), he became easy prey. The monster sensed it and turned to face him, preparing to leap again. Only this time, Woofgard jumped at its arm and bit down, refusing to let go even for a second.

Protecting his master like the good boy he was.

The werewolf with Markus’ eyes let out a primal scream as it struggled to get rid of the pesky mutt. Simon finally made his mind. He had to run. Fast. Perhaps if he escapes, Woofy, who is buying him time, will follow. He had to hope so. There was nothing else he could do, other than standing his ground and letting himself get killed at the hand of the man he loved. In his defense, he considered it for a moment.

Still, he chose to turn around and flee.

Coward. Once a coward, always a coward, something deep inside him whispered, and he didn’t have it in himself to disagree. This was about survival. That’s just how things were.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him with all those injuries through the wilderness back to the river, where he hoped the shapeshifter wouldn’t chase after them anymore. There was some noise coming from that direction. It almost sounded like... shouting?

A glimmer of hope found its way into his heart. Could it be the townsfolk? Were they looking for him? He recalled Luther’s promise that if he doesn’t return until the sunset, they would come searching for him, and smiled, despite all the pain and suffering he has been through. Friends have his back. Lone werewolves are cowards, they would never attack an armed group of people.

If he makes it to them alive, that is.

Just... just don’t look back. You’ll be all right, you’re almost there. Almost... there...

Right when he thought it was nearly over, the river just a stone’s throw away from him, he heard a whimpering sound, followed by a loud thud, like something heavy hit a tree, then the ground. After that, a deafening silence. Already sensing an awful thing has happened, he faltered in his resolve, slowing down to carefully look over his shoulder.

What he saw there could be the most terrifying, heartbreaking moment of his life.

Everything was shrouded in the darkness, thank goodness, but he could still make out two silhouettes on the background – one towering high, the other lying on the grass, not moving.

“No! Woofy...” Simon sobbed, covering his mouth with shock. He couldn’t believe it at first. Woofgard, that loyal, gentle giant, whom Markus saved and they raised him together, gone. And all because of Markus.

No, not him. Because of the beast, he reminded himself sharply as soon as he noticed the bad thought, but he couldn’t help the seed of doubt already taking roots inside his heart.

The fiend let out a spine-chilling howl. And its eyes... bloody hell, its eyes. They shone brightly even in the complete dark, a flash of green and blue as a terrible reminder that this used to be a human being, someone he loved dearly, but wasn’t anymore. That’s what made him regain control of his body again and get back on the run.

Unfortunately, the werewolf was much faster than he ever could be.

He didn’t even realize what happened at first. In one moment, he was sprinting away. In the next, he was lying on the ground, something warm and sticky running down his forehead. Blood. He was bleeding. That should explain why the world became a messy mixture of sounds, scents, and blurred stains of color, most of which were making him wanna vomit. Too intense.

Once he got a little bit used to the picturesque world around him, one of those spatters turned into a shadowy creature, looming over his body, about to deal him a killing strike. Finally... He closed his eyes with a sigh. At least it’s gonna be over soon...

But it wasn’t.

“Simon? Simon! Where the hell are you, you fool?! Say something!”

He cracked one eye open to see a distant silhouette of several people on the other side of the river. The creature growled. It didn’t like what it saw. So he used the last bits of his strength to croak: “Help... me...!”

The noise of feet rippling water grew closer. Seeing that it was overpowered with men carrying silver weapons, the werewolf quickly fled the field, abandoning poor Simon to suffer the consequences. But worse, leaving him with the awful truth.

His husband was a lycantrophe. And he almost killed him. There was no way he could ever recover from this.

“Over here, lads! I got him! Quick, we must –”

It was getting harder not to lose grip on reality. He saw only brief flashes of what was happening around him as he was slipping into slumber and back awake again.

There was a couple of men, most of which he recognized to be the town’s guards, fretting over him, checking his wounds and such. He would bet he noticed Luther’s concerned face at some point, but it was too blurry to be sure. He… couldn’t… stay awake…

He finally drifted off to sleep for good, with the image of his husband’s beautiful warm eyes behind his eyelids, and a single thought.

Markus… how could this happen to us?

#detroit become human #simarkus #dbh #dbh fanfiction #dbh fanfic #simkus #dbh simon #dbh markus #werewolf au #shey scribbles #multiple chapters #when the wolf comes

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mother-snake · 3 years

Text

dear sweet little letter,

(angst wih a heap of fluff? yeah... also dont forget if you would like to be tagged in future content, dont hestitate to ask!!!) tags: @idkanameatall @imma-potatoo @girl-with-many-fandoms words: 3896 warnings: sad snek times

Roman-

He had been having a fairly okay day. His work was complete but there was a nagging in the back of his mind that had been there since the big argument. he knew that what he said hit a dangerous nerve, but roman had hit one as well. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He could practically feel the bags under his eyes from sleepless nights riddled with guilt.

Well. If he wanted at least a nap then he could just go fix things up with roman. But he just wasn’t sure how. How do you repair damage that seemed far too damaged? roman was never one for confrontation, skirting around the issue. He would just deny that something was wrong until it weathered him down.

An idea crossed his mind. That could work… in fact. He at least knew it was a start. --

Roman had been in his room, curled up in a ball. Janus’s words had struck a deep buried pile of emotions he didn’t want to deal with. But alas. It was bound to happen. so when he heard the knock on his door, he was a little more than irritated. Patton had attempted at least once an hour during daylight to get roman to leave the room. But he had point blank refused.

But if he heard the moral side knock once more, he was going to flip. And the only way he knew to stop that was to open the door.

And that’s what he did. But no one was there. not a single soul. He rolled his eyes but stopped when they landed on something just in his eye view by his feet. a basket. Yellow and red. With colourful things on the inside. he hesitantly picked it up and looked down each corridor that were on either side of his room before closing the door.

His next destination was his desk. He placed the basket of things down and began to unpack. a knitted scarf with his symbol on either end. It was just the perfect mix of warmth and comfort. a small bag of wrapped up brownies. He tasted one. Yeah, these were good.

And then a red rose. Ruby coloured. His colour. it was tied to a letter. This had a yellow wax and a familiar double headed snake.

He looked at the things and was almost hesitant to open it. but he did it anyways.

Dear roman, as you can see, I’ve been busy this past week. I know we are not on the best of terms but I would like you to know that I do feel guilty for what I said. If you belie me or not, that’s up to you. but at least consider this a start? sorry for what I said. I apologise. Remember: you ARE Thomas’s hero. - yours sincerely, Janus.

Roman found himself placing the letter onto the desk. A wave of emotion hitting him all at once. Mainly guilt and a small drabble of hope. He looked at the peace offerings with a slight smile.

Maybe he could do something in return as a thank you. now… what to do?

Patton-

He had been wandering his room. Pacing back and forth. Thinking and thinking. Had he liked it? an idea crossed his mind. Maybe he could do that for Patton! the two may only now be on speaking terms, but if he could clear up some air. That would be enough.

He opened his bedroom door and made his way to the kitchen. Recipe after recipe coming to mind. --

Patton was lying in his room. Staring at the wall in anticipation. Waiting for the hour to pass to make sure roman was okay. He hadn’t seen the side all too much. and he knew what had happened was taking its toll.

He had re arranged the room twice. From age to size. He was now half way into doing category. but there was something just not right in the air. He couldn’t place what it was… but it was there.

He heard a small knock on his door. Now if there was one thing Patton was good at- it was telling who was at his door. And by not recognising the sound. It was pointed to only one side.

He walked over as quick as possible before opening the door. But it appeared that he was wrong, no one was there. he took a breath before walking back into his room. Only stopping when a small thud of something comes from down below. he picks up the paper bag and makes his way to his bed where he sits down. The yellow ribbon tying it together in a neat bow makes him smile joyfully. he reached his had in and pulled out a jar of… oh. It was jam? He looked in to find another jar and what looked like a ton of baked goods. Some cookies, brownies and muffins mostly.

The letter at the bottom caught his attention. A small daisy attached. He picked it up and examined the piece of paper before opening it up to read.

Dear Patton, I know you are most likely the only person here who doesn’t hate me with a seething passion right now. But none the less. I give you these peace offerings. I know you don’t like lying, but I need you to at least understand this. I can’t change who I am. And I am deceit… I know you don’t like it. that you think its wrong. But I need you to know even when I lie, I'm trying my best… - yours sincerely, Janus.

Patton felt his heart go heavy. What Janus was getting at in the letter clicking pretty quickly in his mind he- no. he was going to make this right. Janus was one of his kiddos. And if he thought that Patton hated him. well. He wasn’t going to stand for it. he was going to make sure that Janus knew he was loved. he would physically fight anyone who dare disagree.

Logan-

He had been in the kitchen this time. He was still in the cold emptiness of the dark side area. He still couldn’t sleep. And he was so close to just getting Remus to- but he couldn’t. the side was no longer here.

He took a deep breath and groaned. Yeah, he was so close to just collapsing in exhaustion. The coffee he drank barely did its job anymore. his mind began to wander again. Wandering over to Logan, Thomas’s logic and reasonable thinking compared to the others. he winced as he remembered placing that skip button down. He didn’t think that anyone would actually press it. he thought they would be smarter than that. guess even he could be wrong about them.

He felt his chest go heavy as he remembered the mark on logans neck he had caught the other day delivering roman his gift basket of peace offerings.

He rubbed his temple, his non gloved hands looked normal, but the black talons on the end were otherwise too sharp to not be. He had barely disguised it when he had revealed his name. no reason for them to get scared. he didn’t need that on his plate as well.

He summoned a small pad and pen. It took far more energy than he would have liked, but not being one of the creativity’s that was bound to happen. Lack of sleep didn’t help either.

He began to write things down. But quickly scribbled them out. no, they wouldn’t work for apologises. And he didn’t know if Logan would want to see him. perhaps he could do that instead? That might work! --

It had been a while; he did leave his room of course. But it was mainly to eat, drink and replace his melted ice with fresh. He had enough work to do and was sick of everyone just ignoring him. so, when he arrived at his room to see his door creaked open slightly. He was not happy in the slightest.

Cup of herbal tea in hand he entered the room to find no one there. but a small parcel wrapped up and on his bed. Brown paper with a bluebell tied to a letter. the insignia told him enough.

He opened the parcel as neatly as possible. Careful not to harm its contents. it was a black box with his logo in silver. A lock and key placed on top. He moved it to the side and opened it up. a blue book. he opened it to find empty pages. But stopped when he reached the final page.

A list off things the other sides had said. Each one a compliment. He hadn’t realised how much they actually cared. he moved to the letter. Opening it up.

Dear Logan, I will be straight as possible with you. neither of us like confrontation. But this is the least I can do for hurting you. I know you don’t like expressing emotion, so why not write down how you feel instead? I hope you can one day forgive me for what I did. And remember, the others do care. It’s just hard to realise that sometimes.

-yours sincerely, Janus

Logan didn’t know what he was apologising for. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was right to remove him from the picture in that moment. The others refused to listen, so he swapped himself out. and that all it had taken.

But as he looked to the box. And then back to the book. then the letter. Maybe it would be good to take Janus’s words… to heart. he placed the book back in the box along with the letter. Locking it up and placing the key in his pocket.

Maybe he should go and talk to Patton. He needed to clear somethings up.

Remus-

He had missed his friend. sure, he could now sleep, not so much guilt and pressure on his shoulders was eased slightly. But it still wasn’t gone. In fact, it felt worse than it had these past couple days. did the two sides accept his apology? Did they hate him even more- did they forgive him?

Thinking about all of what had happened lead him down that road once more. Thinking about all that was wrong, until they arrived at Remus. His best friend he ever had. Always there when he felt alone… and he had compared him to roman. despite knowing what had gone down, and even Janus knowing roman and Remus’s past… he knew it was only a matter of when for Remus leaving. And two days after the fiasco. two days of blatantly being ignored and glared at. And he was gone.

He would give anything to have that side talk his ears off for hours on end if it meant not being alone. he just wanted his friend back, he wanted someone who knew him. who knew that he couldn’t last without someone to talk to… but he understood Remus’s reasoning for ignoring him; no matter how often Janus tried to summon the side, it was ignored. who would want to talk to a liar like himself anyways?

But still he wanted to make it up to his old friend. Even if there was nothing, he could do to fix it… he could at least try.

Wiping his eyes, he quickly goes to work. Puling out his craft box and placing it on the table. --

Remus had been sat in his room. He had visited roman once the side had finally come out of his room. they had talked. An actual conversation… and none of it seemed too… well. Malicious as most other conversations in the past had been.

Now here he was, looking at pictures that had come with him in his room when he had left the dark side behind. His old friend… he didn’t even know if he could call him that. sure he missed their conversations. The way Janus would relax on him as he mumbled about another grotesque adventure, never once complaining.

But that was long gone. Janus had taken that chance away when he compared him to roman. He was nothing like that light side for certain. But he wasn’t the villain. Neither were. and that’s what pissed him off. Janus didn’t have the right to say that.

And the occasional tug turned into one every now and then. But they just stopped. And he was worried. It was never like Janus to give up so quickly. but he guessed that meant he didn’t care as much as he thought.

But the knocking on his door sent his thoughts out of mind.

He opened his door to find no one there. he looked down to find a black glass jar and walked back in. slamming his door behind. It sent a few things falling to the floor. But he didn’t mind. his attention was on the jar.

And it took a while to open it, but when he did, he wasn’t expecting to find what was inside. a plush. That was for sure. But he quickly recognised it as a heart. Not the valentines shaped one. But an actual human’s heart. The neat stitching, colour choice told him enough. He had known Janus longer than the others.

He looked in the jar to find a letter. It had a small clover attached to it, witch he quickly picked off and chewed. he unfolded the letter and began to read.

Dear Remus, hello old friend. And here we are. Opposite sides. I know you don’t forgive me for what I said… and I know you wont in the future. But at least accept this peace offering. I know you don’t wish to see me in the future… so. If you feel the need to share your thoughts, might I suggest Logan? I feel you two would get on splendidly.

And, I'm sorry for what I said. I truly mean that. -yours sincerely, Janus.

he looked at the letter and at the plush. Tears fell down his face as he realised just how much he missed Janus. who knew that the other side missed him too… heh. surely, he could think of something to show that he cared?

He got straight to planning.

Virgil-

He found himself unable to move from his place on the bed. Curled up under the covers and feeling nothing. He hated it so much. he wanted to be hugged, to be held to be- he didn’t want this. That was for certain.

He had been thinking far too much recently. He had thought about Patton, Logan, roman and Remus… and now. Virgil. And his heart couldn’t take it any longer. Whatever had been there was no longer wanting to stay.

How had he messed up so badly? How bad did it have to be to scare away his friend? His first friend before Remus… back when it was just those two, then three everything was perfect. and then they had revealed themselves.

Argument after argument drove Virgil further and further away until he left completely. There was very little he could do without feeling supreme guilt about it. the sadness tagged along, that sucked as well.

Now he was lying in bed. So many things reminding him of his friend. He wondered if he had ever been forgiven. and as the last side he had yet to try and mend a relationship for… maybe he could give it one. Final. Shot? --

He guessed not everything was as bad as before since Thomas met Nico. The handsome mad had warmed his way into all the sides hearts. At least he thinks so at least.

His normally black eyeshadow had been more and more purple recently… and only ever went back to that dark colour when he seemed to remembered his past. oh sure, he had actually enjoyed Remus and Janus growing up. their company a welcome distraction he needed. Taking away the bad parts of the dark side and replacing them with funnier things.

But something had changed along the way. Janus had changed. He became desperate. He wanted to show Virgil how the lights were… but Virgil guessed that Janus hadn’t been expecting him to befriend any of them.

He wondered how he was doing alone, much to his own surprise. the knock at his door was sudden. But not unwelcome. He had a feeling it was either Patton or Remus again.

But upon opening the door to find nothing he let out a small confused ‘huh’ as his feet connected with something squishy. there wrapped in parcel paper was something alright.

He picked it up and brought it inside. he could feel something coming of the parcel itself. Residue of sadness and anxiousness. Who brought it to his door?

He opened up the parcel and almost gaped. it was a pretty pastel purple. The pocket and hood were grey, stitches don like his patches had been. his insignia right where it had always been.

And now he was more than- oh… he picked up the letter. Wax sealed with the double snake. He opened it up carefully.

Dear Virgil- I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything… I'm sorry. -yours sincerely, Janus

Virgil looked at the hoodie and back at his old one… maybe… just maybe he could do with a little change.

Janus-

They were all gathered around the kitchen. Virgil had gotten compliments on his new hoodie, roman on his scarf. Logan was busy scribbling something down in a book. Remus seemed to be carrying around a plus more and more often. And Patton seemed to almost be stuck in his head. the room was otherwise silent until Logan spoke up. snapping his head up as if something clicked. “did Janus leave something at your door once this week?” he asked looking around at everyone.

Wide eyes looked around at everyone. “everyone?” Virgil muttered, pulling at the strings of the hoodie. “by the looks of it yes. that’s… I want to say a surprise but I have a feeling it’s not,” roman said. “anyone else feeling immeasurable amounts of guilt?” Remus muttered.

No one needed to respond to that. “well then, why don’t we do something?” Logan said, “we could do something for him together, from all of us,” he continued, getting rather exited.

Everyone smiled at logans sudden enthusiasm. Whatever Janus had given him must have begun breaking some of those walls by the looks of it. “I agree with specks over there. but it’s got to be grand!” roman cheered. “oh! I have an idea!” Patton said.

And soon everyone had their own mission. They each took a separate direction and began to grab everything that was needed. --

Janus hadn’t moved the entire day. He may have been cold. But what was the point? he didn’t know. He looked up to the wall opposites himself to see just how dishevelled he looked. Bags under his eyes, his hair a mess on top of his head. Tear tracks almost stained his face. red puffy eyes showed how he had been crying.

He had been confused to say the least when an exited knock banged on his door. He knew what that was! he found himself standing up and walking to the door. But stopped before opening it as something was pushed under. a small letter. Huh?

He heard as Remus bounded down the hall and away from his door. he picked the paper up and began to read.

Dear Janus, this letter is from everyone. we wish you to meet us in the lights commons at 9pm sharp. We have something for you that should be ready by then. we hope you can make it

-yours sincerely

He looked to see everyone had signed the bottom of the sheet. He was both confused, scared and worried. were they planning something to hurt him? would they just make fun of what he had created. But what if this was it? where they forgave him? would it be worth the risk.

A voice deep down told him that, yes. Yes, it was worth it. and for the first time he listened to it. --

He was standing in his pyjamas. He had been for a shower not too long ago and his hair had returned to its natural poufy state like before. his hands were gloveless. He couldn’t be bothered putting them back on. Remus would only ask him why they were there and the cover would have been blown.

Well. Now he was ready, and he had only five minuets to get there. it wouldn’t take that long to get there as of now. and thus he began walking. Cautiously and with purpose. then he was faced with the white door. And with a gentil sigh he opened the door with a click.

The lights were not on. black filled the entire lights commons. until it didn’t. the sound of a switching flip and he was met with fairy lights and a blanket fort.

He had to blink to make sure he wasn’t sleeping. taking a few cautious steps forward he peaked his head inside. No one was there. one thing however was certain it was so warm. the blankets and heated mat, he could tell there was one in there at least somewhere, and pillows he took a quick glance behind himself and crawled in. there was space enough for him to starfish across the ground with extra room.

The warmth around him filled him with bliss. If you were to listen ever so carefully, the sound of a purr could be heard emanating from his vocal cords. he heard the sound of shuffling and a small knock. he peaked his head out the crack in the side of the fort to see Patton sitting on the ground nearby with a tray in his hands.

“hi kiddo,” Janus tilted his head slightly. “hello Patton,” he responded. “enjoying your surprise,” “no,” he blushed, getting a giggle from Patton. “well… anyways. I’ve got you some cookies and hot chocolate if you’d like some,” he smiled.

Janus didn’t know what to do with this…, “where are the other?” he asked. “sleeping. We spent all day making sure this was stable and perfect,” he gestured to behind Janus where he realised where it was. a window seat. Not just any one…

He felt tears prickle his eyes. Back when they were children. That had been his sun-bathing spot. His own personal bubble. “tell them no thanks,” he muttered, grabbing a cookie from the plate. “you got it kiddo. Now don’t stay up too late. And don’t worry if you hear noise, the others might wake up to see how youre doing,” Patton said, patting Janus’s hair. “goodnight kiddo,” and he was gone.

Janus smiled for the first time in a long time. They had done this for him? just for him… he didn’t know what the feeling in his chest was, but he liked it. no, he loved it.

And little did he know. He would never have to not feel it again… after all he was a part of their famILY weather, he liked it or not. And he would be fine with that.

#sander sides #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus angst #angst #fluff #hurt comfort #enjoy this thing i did #hope is gucci #janus centeric #haha

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

Text

Two Weeks

Part 2

Summary - You don't know the value of someone until you lose them. Dean didn't understand the importance of you in his life until he was too late.

Pairing - Dean x Reader(?)

Warnings- Angst, Fluff-ish, Swearing, self doubt, Dean being a dick (sorry)

Word Count - 1.5k

Square filled - Slow Burn ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - I had thought of leaving “Two Weeks” as a one shot but since y’all had shown the first part so much love, I thought about writing a second part and it turned into a series.

This is also written as an entry for @jensengirl83 ’s 200 follower challenge. My prompt was “I don’t want to fix this again!”

Spn divider by @talesmaniac89💕

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“One more,” you ordered the bartender.

“I think you should take it easy now, hun,” she raised an eyebrow at you.

“I can handle my alcohol,” you slurred.

“It doesn't seem like that. Come on, no more drinks for you. Go home, get some sleep,” she said and passed you a glass of water. You rolled your eyes, gulping down the glass of water and stood up from your seat. You swayed a little, maybe she was right about you being drunk.

The cool air hit you in the face as soon as you managed to stumble out of the bar. You were looking around yourself, unsure of what to do next when you heard a deep rumble and a car pulled up beside you.

You knew it wasn't a creep - you knew exactly who it was. You could recognise that purring of the engine anywhere. You didn't bother to take a look at who was in the car not wanting to see him, not after so long. You were done with him for good.

You heard the door of the car open and slammed shut after a few seconds. You heard footsteps approaching towards you.

“Y/N,” he said in a gruff voice, “I read your letter.”

You turned towards the man you once loved.

“And?” You said in a cold voice. You saw him staring at you with those piercing green eyes.

“Why can't you let me be happy Y/N? You and I - we never had a future. It was only sex for us. I love her- the woman you saw kissing. I want her. She is my future. You can't mess that up for me just because you didn't get what you wanted,” Dean said, his eyes hard.

“Wha-” you felt your throat closing up, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. It all meant nothing to him. You felt your lungs give up. You tried to breathe but it felt like you were drowning. You heard a sound - was that your phone ringing?--

You woke up with a start. You were back in your motel room, your phone ringing on the nightstand. Ignoring your phone, you got out of the bed to get yourself some water. Beads of sweat were still lining your forehead. It was still dark outside. You drank an entire glass of water and came back to the bed.

You gently rubbed your temple, thinking back on the dream. This was a recurring nightmare. What if this was your mind subconsciously hinting at that truth? What if you really messed up everything in Dean's life just because you were pathetic? Maybe he left you because he wanted to get the hell away from you. You were not his girlfriend, then why were you expecting him to drop everything and run back to you? Maybe this was his only chance at a normal life he always wanted. Why did you have to fuck up everything?

Picking up your phone, you saw you had missed a call from Bobby. That old geezer was always worried about you. You decided to pay him a little visit the next day to let him know you were alive.

You sighed loudly. You needed to get on with your life. Four weeks had passed by, Dean didn't bother to contact you. It was not like you had cut him off entirely from your life. You still had the same number because you were hoping that he would realise his mistake and call you up. You waited but he never called. You realised that loving him was a mistake. Dean would never reciprocate those feelings.

You felt anger replacing your sadness. You were done being treated as his second option. You realised he would never put your name on the top of his list, you would never be his priority. You were going to get over him.

You started to pack your bags for the second time and prepared to leave the motel room which had been your home for the last two weeks.

Tomorrow would be a new day for you.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Numerous questions were haunting you - why did Dean have to break your heart like that? Was it really all a game for him? Were you really not worth his love?

Your train of thoughts were broken when you heard the main door open loudly. You checked yourself. You didn't have your gun on you and there was an intruder, probably a monster in your room. You looked around yourself searching for anything that could come handy.

When you didn't see anything useful, you tiptoed out of the bathroom. You managed to secure your gun from under your pillow and turned around to point it towards the intruder.

Your breathing hitched at the sight of him. The forest green eyes you once loved locked with yours. You dropped the gun in your hand.

“Y/N,” Dean spoke in a gruff voice, creating goosebumps all over your skin, “I read the letter.”

There was a sense of déjà vu in what was happening. You looked down, bracing yourself for the impending rejection.

“I have the answers,” Dean said, surprising you. You looked up and saw him waving the piece of writing you had left for him. You remained silent which Dean took as a sign to continue.

“Y/N, when I saw you that day hurrying out of the story, wiping your tears on your sleeves, I realised the grave mistake I had committed. During the entire drive back to the motel, I was going over all the ways I could ask you to forgive me but none of them seemed right because I knew you wouldn't forgive me,” you scoffed at his words, “I know you don't believe me but this is the truth. Lisa...she is not you. Y/N, I am ready to fight for us, because you are worth it.”

You hadn't noticed, but during Dean's speech, he had come closer to you. He put a finger under your chin, making you look up to him. Your eyes roamed around his face, taking in his features. He was there standing before you, wearing his best apology but you couldn't forgive him. You were too scared to let him in again. He tilted his head and leaned forward. He pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you gently.

He had expected you to kiss him back but what he didn't expect was you to push him back, your palm connecting with his left cheek. Dean stood there in front of you looking dumbfounded.

“I don't want this - us.” You said.

“Why?” He asked, his voice low. You didn't want to slap him, but you also knew that he deserved that slap because of all the heartbreak he had put you through.

“Don't act like you don't know Dean,” you said, your voice laced with venom.

“Y/N, I-” Dean squeezed his eyes shut. “Y/N, I am sorry for what I did.”

“Don't say that crap. Don't you dare apologise. Two weeks Dean! I waited for you for two long weeks. Holding onto that false promise of yours like my life depended on it. You never once looked back at me when you walked out of that motel room. What would have happened if you hadn't seen me in that store? Tell me, Dean,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears angrily that rolled down your cheek.

“I know what I did is unforgivable but Y/N, I'm here now and we can make this work. Come on sweetheart, we can fix this,” Dean pleaded.

“That's the thing Dean! I don't want to fix this again! I can't let you break my heart again. I am done being your second choice. I-I c-can't-” you broke down in front of the green-eyed hunter. This was the last you wanted to happen. Now he was going to think that you were weak and pathetic.

You felt Dean's arms around you. Even though you despised Dean for what he did to you, he was still your home, your safe place.

“I will never leave you again, sweetheart.” He rasped.

“How can I trust you again, De?” You said, your voice barely a whisper.

“I am ready to fight for us. It will take some time,” he whispered in your ears and cupped your face, "but I will do anything to make you mine again."

You looked up, your eyes meeting his.

"You better not fuck this up, Winchester," you warned.

"I won't sweetheart, I promise," Dean said, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

Feedback is appreciated!

Forever taglist - @miss-nerd95 @foxyjwls007 @donnaintx @devil-in-my-boots @amandamdiehl

Dean/Jensen Taglist - @akshi8278 @mrsjenniferwinchester @jensengirl83 @defenderrosetyler @idksupernatural

Two Weeks Taglist - @evemarie05 @fofisstilinski @harleygirl3089 @yeollidokai @woodworthti666 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @moron225

#spndeanbingo challenge round 1 #supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfic

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stayatinyfics · 4 years

Text

The Truth About Vampires

Warning: swearing, biting, blood/blood drinking, unprotected sex.

💋🌷

It was a Friday night and instead of going out with your friends, you were rushing to the mall to get to there before it closed. You had an assignment due Monday and you had procrastinated a lot.

You walked into the movie section of the store and grabbed Dracula, The Lost Boys, and Queen of the Damned. As you placed them on the counter, you began digging through your bag for your wallet.

“These are all bullshit you know?” the cashier scoffed. “Well, yeah. They’re movies about vampires. Of course they’re bullshit….Jihoon” you replied, looking up to read the, very cute, cashier’s name tag. He chuckled and asked you why you were buying the dvds. Jihoon pouted when you told him it was for a class and not because you yourself had interest in vampires. He handed you your receipt and said “Stop back in and let me know what you thought..uh..”

“Y/N and maybe I will. Thanks!”

He shot you a smile as you left and you could have sworn you saw pointed teeth.

A week later you went back to the mall to talk to Jihoon. When he saw you walk in he had to hold back a smile. He had definitely shown you his teeth by accident last time and he couldn’t risk it happening again. He was always making sure he didn’t smile too widely. It’s why many people thought he was cold, stoic.

Jihoon looked good tonight. He was just wearing black jeans, ripped at the knees, and a black tee. Simple, but it worked for him. You waved and practically skipped over to where Jihoon was behind the register. “Ready to talk vampire movies?”

“Unfortunately, I have a line that you kind of just cut” he said with a laugh. You looked back and apologized to all the customers you had just walked in front of. You moved to the side and after calling the next customer forward Jihoon turned to you, “I’m off the clock in literally 10 minutes. Would you maybe want to have our conversation back at my place? no pressure though.” You nodded in agreement. Sure, you didn’t really know him, but you wanted to. Jihoon had taken an uber to work so you would drive the both of you to his house.

“How far is it from here?” you questioned, buckling your seatbelt. “About 15 minutes, take a left out of the mall” Jihoon directed. You shivered and after you turned the heat up a little, you glanced towards Jihoon. Realizing he had never put a jacket on when you’d left, you gasped “aren’t you cold?!” He almost laughed out loud at the question, but just gave you a simple “nope”, to which you started ranting to him about how it was the middle of winter and he’s crazy to not be wearing at least a hoodie.

You walked into Jihoon’s house and sat on the couch after he told you to make yourself at home. He offered to make you tea which you declined, telling him to come sit next to you. He sat close to you and asked “alright, which was your favorite and why?” A part of you didn’t think you would actually be talking about vampires when you went home with him, but you would if that’s what Jihoon wanted. You talked about the differences between the vampires in each movie and Jihoon told you what traits were “way more realistic.” When you teased him that none of them could be realistic, he laughed, saying “you’d be surprised.” That’s when Jihoon realized he had fucked up. You had seen his fangs.

You giggled, “Jihoon oh my god when did you even put those in? When I was driving?” He gave you a puzzled look. Oh…you thought they were fake. He should feel relieved, but he didn’t. He felt more disappointed than anything else. From your conversation about the movies he now knew you had at least a decent amount of interest in vampires and wondered if you would believe him. He’d never told a human before. He’d never felt like he could, but with you he felt comfortable somehow. He took a deep breath before speaking, “y/n I really don’t know how to say this or if you will even believe me, but they’re real. My teeth, vampires. I’m a vampire.”

You wouldn’t have believed him, you would have gotten up and walked out, except for the fact that his eyes had glowed a deep red as he confessed. You knew you should be afraid, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear inside you. “Jihoon-” you muttered “wow, I never would have thought…vampires…now I know why you didn’t wear a fucking sweater today.” Jihoon sighed with relief and let himself laugh with a full smile. You scooted closer to him and brought your hand up to his freezing cold cheek. Jihoon closed his eyes at your warm touch. It had been centuries since he let a human touch him and it had only ever been people who knew vampires existed, not in such an intimate way.

He leaned into your hand, opening his eyes when you let it wander up into his black hair. His eyes stopped glowing and turned dark as he kissed you. It started tentatively, you both exchanging a few soft kisses, but quickly became more passionate. Jihoon licked your bottom lip and you tried to slip your tongue into his mouth, but pulled back when you felt a prick. “Ouch! Shit” you exclaimed, tasting blood from where you cut your tongue on one of Jihoon’s fangs. The string of apologies that fell from his mouth were interrupted by you putting your hand behind his head and pulling him back into another kiss. The feeling of your soft lips plus the taste of your blood drove Jihoon crazy. He pulled you onto his lap to straddle him and began kissing down your jaw. He slowly moved down your neck, grazing the smooth skin with his fangs. You gasped at the feeling, causing him to grab your hips hard. You pulled at his shirt and he lifted his arms so you could tug it over his head. You ran your hands down his chest as he sucked a hickey into your neck. After taking your shirt off and unhooking your bra, Jihoon moved back to your lips, this time taking initiative with his tongue so you wouldn’t hurt yours again. It felt like you were making out with him for an eternity and you had to pull away to breathe.

“W-what’s wrong? Is this okay? We can stop if you-” Jihoon stuttered out before you stopped him. “No, this is fine! I just needed some air” you reassured him. Jihoon shook his head, “right. humans usually do need to breathe, my bad.” You both giggled, but the mood didn’t stay lighthearted for long. You shifted in Jihoon’s lap, and feeling the bulge in his jeans, you kissed him deeply. He let one hand rest on your waist and the other reached for your breast, running his thumb over your nipple. “Lift up, let me take your skirt off gorgeous” Jihoon whispered in your ear and when you complied he slid your skirt and panties down, tossing them on the floor. You unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down as much as you could, Jihoon kicking them off the rest of the way with his boxers. His length was impressive and you started to tell him so, but stopped short when he took your nipple into his mouth and lowered his hand to rub a finger on your clit. You moaned out his name as he slowly pushed his finger inside you. He started to suck another hickey, this time by your collarbone, and added another finger. “J-jihoon, I want, I need…” you mumbled. He looked into your eyes, “Yes y/n? what do you need? tell me baby girl.” You took hold of his shaft, jerking him off. “You, Please.” you begged, lifting up your hips and holding onto Jihoon’s shoulders. He lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in, swearing when he bottomed out. He rubbed circles into your hip as he gave you a minute to adjust to his size. You began to ride him, making him moan out your name. “Fuck y/n, you’re so warm, so wet” he groaned, bringing his hips up to meet yours each time you rose and came back down onto him.

“Jihoon…mm..fuck…can you, uhm” you said before burying your head in his neck, grinding into his lap. “What is it princess? you can ask me” Jihoon whispered, tilting your head up to make you look at him, his eyes glowing that deep red once again. With a blush you answered “can you bite me?” At your question, Jihoon’s cock twitched inside you. “It will only be a small bite,” he explained, “I can’t get bite too deep or drain too much blood. I don’t want to risk you dying or turning.” Would turning even be that bad? you thought to yourself. Maybe if you and Jihoon kept seeing each other you would ask him questions about it. You leaned your head back to give him access to your neck, keeping a steady pace riding him. Jihoon attached his lips to your neck and sunk his fangs into you. He moaned against you at the taste of your blood, lightly sucking at your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair and gripped it at the back, the feeling unlike anything you’ve felt before. Jihoon never wanted to stop and if he had recently turned he might have drank from you until you were dry, but he reluctantly detached from you and sat back to take in your beauty. "You’re so beautiful y/n”, Jihoon told you, admiring the little streaks of blood down your neck, your breasts bouncing as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“I’m getting close Hoon” you said, trying to keep up your pace. Jihoon pulled you closer to him, thrusting up into you fast. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder, moaning his name over and over, clenching around his cock as you came. He thrusted into you a few more times before pulling out and stroking his cock, cum spilling out onto his hand and your stomachs.

He kissed you and smiled, fangs poking out adorably. “Let’s get cleaned up. Will you stay the night y/n?”. Of course you would, but you had one concern. “So uh will you be like, creepily staring at me while I sleep?” you asked. “No what the hell” Jihoon said with a frown. “Vampires don’t sleep, right?” you asked.

“See! vampire movies are all bullshit! let’s shower and I’ll debunk the myths before we BOTH fall asleep.” After the shower, Jihoon gave you one of his oversized shirts to sleep in and you snuggled up together in his bed. “Alright y/n, here’s the truth about vampires…”

♡

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

Text

“Did It Hurt?” - Oneshot

My Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Word Count: 2,262

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Talk about violence

Summary: Lucifer finally tells you the truth about his scars.

Author’s Note: I’ve been wanting to do Lucifer fics for awhile, and this idea slowly worked its way out of my brain. It is not beta-read, but I hope you enjoy it! I may already have a few ideas for more stories in this fandom. <3

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

~~~~~~~~

Lucifer had come home from working a case with Detective Decker a few minutes ago. He had dirt all over him and his suit when he came in. Not wanting to know the specifics, you just told him to go shower while you finished up. He nodded, gave you a kiss, and was off.

While preparing dinner for you and your boyfriend, you had to pinch yourself and make sure that your life was real. You were living in Los Angeles, dating Lucifer Morningstar who despite his reputation, treated you extremely well, and you felt safe. Who would have thought that that would even be a possibility for you?

In the midst of you zoning out, Lucifer had come out in some pajama bottoms and snuck his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind.

“Hello there, beautiful.” After the initial jump, you lightly smacked his arm before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Well hell-looo there!” You couldn’t help the smirk as you found Lucifer shirtless, which was always a nice surprise. He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. He also reached behind you and stuck his finger in the dish you were working on, bringing it to his lips as you yet again smack his arm.

“Hey! Luci!”

“Whatever that is, it is delicious, love.” You couldn’t stay even pretend mad at him for long. Laughing you just shake your head and go back to cooking.

“Thank you, babe.” He places another kiss to the side of your head. You watch him walk away and make his way to the other side of the counter, grabbing something from the expansive collection of alcohol to go with dinner. While you couldn’t help admiring him, your eyes land on the two large and curved scars on his shoulders, the only scars you’ve ever seen on him.

You had seen the scars on his shoulders before. They were kind of hard to miss. And you were happy that he was comfortable enough around you to not hide them. But you still had no idea how he got them. You knew it was something that he didn’t want to talk about because you had asked him multiple times in the past, but you would be lying if you said that you weren’t curious and a little bit worried.

“You know, one day you are going to tell me the truth about those scars.” Lucifer turned to you with his eyebrow quirked up in a challenging manner.

“How do you know I haven’t already told you the truth?”

“Impossible.” You shake your head with a smile as you take the pan off the stovetop and reach for some plates.

“Oh really?” Lucifer brought his chosen liquor to his seat on the other side of the counter, pouring himself and you a glass.

“Yes! Because every time I’ve asked, you’ve said something different! And none of those stories seem to be real.”

You finish plating dinner and turn to give Lucifer his portion, expecting to see a smirk or some sort of look that says “Well, I guess you’ll never know.” But instead, you see him looking into his drink, his face showing a mix of worry and uneasiness. Sliding the plate in front of him, you try to break his gaze from the cup.

“You know I’m still going to love you no matter what happened to cause those, right?” Without looking up, his tone got a bit more serious with a twinge of what sounded like pain.

“Don’t make promises you are unsure of, dear.”

“Then tell me what happened and put my promise to the test.” You reach for your glass and take a sip, loving the taste but not able to relish in it because your worry for Lucifer takes precedence.

You can see him mulling something over in his head. He eventually just runs his hands over his face and sighs out a shuddered breath. You move around the counter and hop up on it, you get close enough to put your hand on his cheek and make him look at you. It broke your heart to see whatever trauma that those scars left in his eyes.

“Hey. If it makes you this upset, you don’t have to tell me. I want to know, but if it's going to hurt you, I don’t--”

“I am Lucifer.” His eyes were closed but pointed down towards the counter. The confused chuckled that escaped you was uncontrolled.

“We’ve been dating for awhile now, I think I know your name pretty well, ba--”

“No.” He took your hand from his cheek and from your lap and held them in both of his hands. “I am Lucifer Morningstar, Bealezbub, Mephistopheles, the prince of darkness, the Devil! I am…” He finally looked you in the eye, “the Devil.”

You sat there next to him, looking into his eyes to see if there were any indications that this was a joke. But you saw that he truly believed that he was the Devil. And surprisingly it made sense to you. Everything about him pointed towards that being true, but you hadn’t seen any sort of proof other than the genuine reactions he is showing right now as he tells you.

“Okay… Um… I’m not saying that I don’t believe you, but--”

“You don’t believe me.” His hands, which are still holding yours, drop slightly as he looks away dejectedly. You squeeze them and make him look at you.

“I’m saying that I need some proof. As much as I love you and I know you wouldn’t lie to me, I am just asking if there is anything you can show me.”

Lucifer’s leg begins to bounce with anxiety as he thinks about his next course of action. He knew that telling you would lead to this, he was just scared of the possible fear and rejection. He truly loved you, which is something he never thought was possible. He didn’t want to lose you. But he had to be honest with you.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, focusing on his arm. You watch his face, looking for any sign that this is going to far for him. When he meets your gaze again, his normally dark eyes are now a vicious red color.

You flinched and you saw that it hurt Lucifer. You didn’t know what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t that.

His eyes looked down at his arm. Following his gaze, you see that his skin was now more red. His veins looked like they were glowing under his skin.

“Oh my god!” You couldn’t help the shock as you dropped his hands and covered your gasp.

You took a moment to look at it as he reached for his glass and took a larger than normal drink. Your body moved faster than your brain as you held out a hand to him. Lucifer was confused, but you slowly reached out more until you were delicately holding his arm. It was warmer than a normal human, but not scalding. He let you move it, watching you look at the different shades of red of his true skin.

After a few minutes of looking at his arm, your gaze goes back to his eyes. As soon as you make eye contact, he takes a visibly nervous breath in and holds it, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He closed his eyes and quickly made his skin and eye color back to “normal.”

“Okay. So the stuff that I ignored in church growing up is--”

“Real. Well,” Lucifer tilts his head side to side. “most of it at least.”

Your brain exploded with questions. All of them were out of curiosity. There was no fear or overwhelming nature to any of them.

“Okay… So the whole heaven and hell thing. That’s real?”

Lucifer spent the next half hour patiently listening to all of your questions and answering them the best he could while the two of you ate. He got more and more comfortable the more he talked about it and saw that you were accepting them, accepting him.

“So what does all of this have to do with the scars on your back?” Your voice was a bit softer, knowing that this wasn’t going to be the easiest thing for him to answer. Lucifer’s change in demeanor said that you were right.

“The short version? I had wings. But when I left Hell and came here, I wanted to leave that all behind. So I…” He shifted in his seat, slightly rolling his left shoulder as if he still felt the weight of his wings, “I cut them off.”

You really weren’t sure how to respond. You understood the reasoning behind it, but you had no idea what that felt like. You had no way to relate to it or know how to try and help Lucifer feel better about the situation. All you could do was softly say, “I’m sorry.” Which got a chuckle out of Lucifer.

“Why in the world are you apologizing, dear? It's not like you had any part in it.”

“I know, but I just can’t imagine all of the frustration and sadness that went into a choice so painful.”

Lucifer knew how empathetic you could be, it was one of the reasons you were so appealing to him. You fell silent as you drank the last of your drink, Lucifer turned to completely face you.

“ I will say that you’re not reacting quite like how I thought you would. Usually when people find out about celestial beings being real, they go insane or end up too overwhelmed to handle it. But you. You are very... quiet.”

Lucifer needed to know how you felt about him and his true self. He was preparing himself for heartbreak, for you to get up, say something along the lines of “this is too much,” and then leave him.

Before he could think more negative thoughts, you spoke up.

“I’m just trying to fully absorb that God and angels and demons are real and that I’m actually in love with the Devil. It may take awhile, bu--”

“So you do still love me?” You meet Lucifer’s eyes. He looks so hopeful and shocked, but still too cautious and nervous to let himself feel the happiness of what you just said. You turn to face him completely now, taking his once red head in yours.

“Yes. It's going to take a hot minute to really solidify all of this new stuff in my brain. And I’m definitely going to still be surprised if you ever go all demon eyes on me. But yes. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar.”

A very shuddered exhale leaves the now thankful smile on his face. You stand up and close the distance between the two of you, standing between his legs as he sits on the bar stool. He doesn’t wrap his arms around your waist until yours are around his neck. He is gentle with his embrace, burying his head in your neck. You can feel a tear or two hit the sensitive skin by your collar bone.

You both stay like this for a minute or two. When you pull away a little bit, you take his face in both of your hands and lean in for a gentle kiss. Lucifer pulls you in closer, needed to feel all of this as validation. Letting it sink in that you do truly accept and love him for him.

You’re the one to break away one Lucifer seemed to relax and slowly go back to being his normal self. You sit back down and reach for the bottle on the counter, but Lucifer is already pouring you another drink. Smiling, you take the last bite of food that you have on your plate as a silent laugh leaves your nostrils. Lucifer notices.

“Laughing at my vulnerability now are we?”

“Oh god no! I just thought of one more question.”

“For now.”

“Yes, for now. I’m sure there will be others that pop into my head as time goes on.”

“Alright, what is your question?”

“Did it hurt?” You tried to be serious. Lucifer’s expression changed as if to say “isn’t it obvious?”

“What? When I cut off my wings? Yes! It's as if you were cutting off your arms, but a bit smaller, and on--.”

“No, no-- Not that, although that sounds awful. I meant…” You lean in a bit, Lucifer’s brow raises. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

You had lost it. Your uncontrollable laughter echoed through the penthouse, and while the noise made Lucifer’s heart happy, he groaned in annoyance at the awful pickup line. He put his head in one hand, pointing the other to the elevator on the other side of the room.

“Get out.”

You knew he didn’t mean it, but you played along and stood up. Before you could get to paces away, a familiar hand grabbed yours and pulled you back towards him. You found your place between his legs, both your hands and his automatically find their familiar places, as if nothing had changed.

Lucifer pulled you in closer and flashed his red eyes, making you jerk in his grasp. You both laughed and you lightly smacked his shoulder.

“Rude.”

“C’mon, love. It's a little funny.” He says through his trademark devilish smile as you both lean in for a kiss, ending the night better than he could have dreamed of.

#lucifer fandom #lucifer fic #Lucifer fanfictions #Lucifer Morningstar x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #dreasaurusrex #lucifer netflix

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Text

Linger

Episode• 5/8

Mobile Masterlist •

☾ ✎

Authors note• damnnn damn

Warnings• Um, well. Ig, language, mentions of death, mentions of broken nose, Jaemin calls someone a lot of names and says they’re not pretty a lot. Be warned 🥺😔

Songs• one of these nights - Red Velvet/ turning page - sleeping at last/ flowers in December - mazzy star/ linger - the cranberries

•you had been sitting on your porch for an hour

•in a pink dress

•with your hair curled

•and flowers on your heals

•and you were struggling to hold back the tears

•okay backtrack

•it was a Friday

•prom day

•Jaemin had mumbled a week before in your ear while to two were sitting in the library if you wanted to go to prom with him

•it made you laugh

•ofc u said yes

•it was Friday

•and Jaemin was acting so fucking weird today

•he was very clingy

•he refused to let go of your hand unless he absolutely had to

•and he spent like all of lunch just

•staring at you

•the rest of the dreamies we’re acting weird too

•after lunch, they all took their time in hugging you, Miri, and Yerim, really tightly

•even Jisung and Renjun, who hated that shit

•and Jaemin said he couldn’t hang out after school today

•which you got

•you just made sure he knew what time to get you

•and he barely looked at your during that conversation

•and before you two left each other for the day

•he kept asking you to tell him you loved him

•and you had to ask him if he was okay

•and he didn’t say anything

•he just kissed you and walked away

•you knew something was really wrong

•bc he didn’t say he loved you

•but you tried not to dilly dally over it

•he would tell you what was wrong in his own time

•you trusted him

•you were a lil worried tho

•no one was answering your texts except for Yerim and Miri

•none of the dreamies were answering

•they weren’t answering your texts, your calls, or any messages left in the gc

•but they were leaving you on read

•Jaemin wasn’t even reading your messages

•your own bf left you on delivered

•you figured you would ask him when he came and picked you up

•10 minutes late (that’s fine, normal)

•15 minutes late (still, probably didn’t know how to put on his tie. that made you laugh)

•30 minutes late (ok, care troubles, must be)

•45 minutes late (he should have at least called something)

•he was an hour late (jaemin...)

•why?

•you called Yerim, who had been Jeno’s date, and asked her if she had seen Jaemin

•unfortunately, she had

•he was at the prom

•with the dreamies

•Yerim told you Miri was on her way to pick you up

•but you didn’t even want to go at that point

•what was happening?

•maybe he forgot?

•so you finally arrived at the prom

•and what you saw made you actually want to hurl

•Jaemin was there alright

•kissing Cynthia

•from the volleyball team

•in the middle of the dance floor

•with all of the dreamies around them, dancing too

•Jeno saw you come in

•he motioned to hyuck

•who told mark

•who got the attention of Renjun

•who slapped Jisungs arm

•who yelled in chenles ear what was happening

•who then basically yelled it to Jaemin, and the whole senior class

•it was like something out of a movie

•a sea of kids parted

•and there was a straight walk from jaemin to you

•or better yet, from you to Jaemin

•because it was you who moved

•Linger by The Cranberries was playing in the background

•this was the first song you had ever shown Jaemin

•the first song you and Jaemin danced to, in your bedroom

•the first song you two officially made out to, in his car, overlooking your shared spot above the city

•it was you and Jaemins song

•and you thought maybe

•maybe Jaemin would apologize

•make an excuse

•but he looked so cold

•so emotionless

•as he looked at you

•inside Jaemins head

•there was a lot going on

•before he left Jeno’s house towards the prom

•he drank

•a lot

•he definitely didn’t want to remember this night

•so he was feeling a lil drunk

•he locked eyes with all the people that expected him to go through with this bet

•all the people (his friends) that expected him not to

•and the one girl he’s ever loved

•she looked so lost

•and Jaemin wanted nothing more than to break away from Cynthias tight grip on his arm, and hug you, and kiss you, and whisper that he was sorry sorry sorry so sorry

•but he was afraid

•Na Jaemin was a coward

•and he was once more, afraid of losing his reputation

•and suddenly,

•it all threw itself at him

•the harsh world he was brought into,

•the pressure he was under

•it all came and swallowed him whole

•and you were his insecurities new target

•all he saw was red

•”Jaemin? What’s going on?”

•he laughs, but it doesn’t sound sincere. It’s cold, lifeless

•”wow, I always knew you were stupid, But I didn’t think you were that idiotic”

•your blood ran cold

•from the corner of your eye, you can see Jisung turn and look the other way, and Miri and Yerim looking on in absolute horror. Yerim let her arms almost fall from Jeno’s embrace, but he held her tightly, afraid of losing her.

•”what?” You looked so lost, like a little lamb that lost their mother in the woods

•if you were the lamb, Jaemin was the wolf

•”I mean, honestly, did you really think I could like a girl like you?”

•you don’t say anything, too much in shock

•”you are a nobody, and you never will be. I know you thought dating someone like me would suddenly make people like you, but new flash y/n, no one does. I can’t believe I had to fucking date you for 7 months. All you do is whine and complain, you’re so fucking annoying. And no wonder I had to start talking to you after mark tutored you; what with you being so fucking stupid. I think it’s so funny how much you tried, when no one really cared. No one cares about ugly girls that put on ugly dresses to try and be more beautiful when nothing will fix the way you are. No one will ever love you y/n, I certainly didn’t-“

•Jeno had heard enough.

•”Jaemin I think she gets it” he puts a hand on Jaemins chest, but Jaemin just pushes it off, and take a step towards you. He really never knew when to stop

•”what, does that make you cry? Knowing that everytime I said I loved you, I was lying? I never loved you y/n. Never. How could anyone ever love a useless bitch like yourself-“

•”Jaemin, stop, look at the poor girl” hyuck finally stepped in and started whispering in Jaemins ear

•it’s true, you were sobbing so much that your pretty makeup was ruined, and you couldn’t even lift your eyes off the floor.

•”oh, why do you care? You act like you weren’t in on the bet this whole time. All of us were. We all knew this was going to happen, because none of us like you y/n. You know, we used to sit there and laugh about how gullible you were. I’m surprised you even have friends. We certainly weren’t your friends. I bet not even Yerim or Miri really like you. They’re actually cool; beautiful. You’re like the ugly duckling that tags along bc you have no where else to turn. Ugly inside and out.”

•”what bet.”

•honestly, everyone was surprised that you talked.

•Jaemin certainly was. He really didn’t want to say anything more, but he couldn’t stop. It’s like he didn’t have an off switch.

•he just laughed at your face

•”remember last night? At my house? I took your puney little virginity. I got bet 8 months ago that I couldn’t take your virginity the night before prom, and then dump your sorry ass in front of everyone. Well look everyone! I win!” He laughed out, all of his stupid jock friends laughing with him.

•he was telling the truth, he took your virginity last night.

•he insisted it was because he wanted you two to be closer on prom night

•you really did feel stupid

•and disgusting

•like you needed a shower

•”and honestly, the worst part was that you weren’t even good. I mean it’d be okay if you were pretty, but look at you!”

•and finally, As Jaemins final act,

•he slipped the anniversary present you gave him off of his left wrist,

•and threw it at your face

•it hit you square in the chest,

•and slid down to floor

•you stayed and looked at it for abt 3 seconds

•but honestly

•you had heard , and seen, enough.

•you didn’t even look at Jaemin, you just turned and ran out of the gym

•everyone started cheering, all the popular people laughing and whooping

•Jaemin just stood there, staring at your retreating figure

•his heart was beating out of his chest

•but someone just handed him a cup full of spiked punch, and he downed it, and pulled Cynthia in for a kiss

•trying to block out the sound of his heartbreaking into millions of pieces

•Yerim and Miri ran out after you, and Jeno and mark followed, while Renjun took Chenle and Jisung - who were sobbing at this point - and dragged them out

•and hyuck just disgustingly stood and stared at Jaemin

•and he pulled Jaemin into him

•and said

•”you’re right, Jaemin. You won. Congrats”

•before shaking his head and running out after everyone

•outside, you were trying S U P E R hard not to have a panic attack

•it was a lie, all of it

•you should have known

•you should have seen that getting involved with the 7 most popular boys in school would ruin you

•Jaemin was right, you were so so stupid

•you heard footsteps behind you, and when you saw all of your friends (minus Jaemin, obviously), you couldn’t help but cry more

•Yerim and Miri slowly walked towards you, and you pulled them both in for a hug, sobbing onto their shoulders

•from behind them, you saw Jeno reach out for you, and softly call your name

•you sucked in a deep breathe

•they knew

•”you knew.”

•the only one that wasn’t crying at this point was renjun, but he looked damn near tears.

•”I’m not going to lie to you y/n, yeah we did-“

•”that’s contradictory. You have been lying to me for 8 months.”

•you didn’t even sound mad, just broken.

•which was honestly worse

•you just shook your head at them, and started walking towards Miri’s car, hoping she could take you home.

•”Jeno.”

•Yerim sounded betrayed as she whispered her boyfriends name

•”how could you?”

•”did you all just see us as idiots?” Miri chimed in

•no one said anything.

•like idiots

•Miri shook her head, and if looks could kill, 6/7 of the dreamies would be killed on the spot.

•”don’t you ever come near us again.” Was the last thing she said, before wrapping her hands around Yerim, and pulling her towards her car.

•Jaemin chose the P E R F E C T time to come out

•the events went as such:

•newly dumped Jaemin walks outside

•newly dumped Jeno locks eyes with new dumped Jaemin

•newly dumped Jeno sees red

•new dumped Jaemin gets a broken nose

•5/7 dreamies retreat

•mark drives Jaemin home

•Jaemin sits on his porch for three hours, not crying, but thinking about everything that happened that night

•Jaemin finally calms down enough to realize wtf happened

•Jaemin immediately wants to die

Continue here

{taglist}

@ivietea @fiveguysgoodbyeguys

@comically-sleep-deprived @woosans-sann @mozartwasajungkookstan @littlefluu @cxcxlxlee @jaesluvklub

@uyuzo @sweetie-yoongi7 @marklexleaf @infatuated-with-you

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hold-my-hand-kuroo · 4 years

Text

A Bouquet For You || 02 - Carnation

A Bouquet For You Masterlist

taglist: @disgruntled-gay @moonchild-kun94 @skyguy-peach @error707-thememelord @o51oc @nanacee @prettysetter @sugawsites @shareyourfandomfaves

The next morning is exactly what you feared. You wake up late, missing the three alarms that you had set for yourself, and after some deliberation, you decide to go without breakfast. Not your best idea, but between being late on your first day or a hearty meal, you’d choose the former any day. First impressions were important.

“Are you sure you’re not going to eat?” Kenma asks, watching you fumble around with your shoes at the doorway. “Or actually, where are you even going this early?”

“Work. First day,” you say hurriedly. Turning the doorknob, you turn back to give him a quick wave or something similar to it. “See you. I’ll be back later tonight.”

“B-bye?” he responds like a question. After all, Kenma still doesn’t understand why you’re conversing with him like a real person. The feeling of living with someone after so long feels foreign, and he’s continuously caught by surprise with your behavior. Even a rush, you still poured a glass of milk for him, forgetting that spirits don’t need calcium for strong bones. He drank it nonetheless, being very confused.

Work is exactly what you had imagined it to be. Hell. Within your very first hour, you’re bombarded with new tasks and papers. “Experience is key,” your supervisor had said, but between the directions being fired at you and more coworkers just giving you endless stacks of files, you quickly are at a loss for what to do. Between flipping through the manual and managing your work properly, you find yourself already utterly exhausted by lunch break.

Lunch break. That was your next problem. Nobody wanted to involve themselves with the new, troublesome rookie, leaving you to eat on your own, albeit quickly, because you wanted to get things done.

“D-do you mind if I sit here with you?” a small, shaky voice stammers. You look up from scrolling through your phone to see a short, blonde woman. She grips tightly at her lunch bag, eyes quivering. “You don’t have to let me, though! I don’t want to be too pushy!”

“I don’t mind!” you answer kindly, offering the chair next to you. You watch as the woman of nerves shakily takes the spot. “Actually, thanks for offering. I was worried that I was going to have a hard time getting along with other people.”

“It’s always hard on the first day. I’ve been here for a few months, and it’s still really difficult for me!” she agrees. She seems more relaxed, shoulders going down slightly. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the woman opens her lunch before jolting upright. “I’m sorry! I never introduced myself. I’m Yachi Hitoka!”

You vaguely remember her name, and you realize that it’s the person whose desk is right next to you. You’re embarrassed, to say the least, realizing that you barely made sufficient introductions to the people around you. Offering your own name in turn and apologizing profusely, the two of you get along better than expected. As it turns out, Yachi, though having only been at the company for less than half a year, was a designer genius. Often tasked to be the leader of poster projects, your coworker who seemed only to be made out of nerves was a master at what she did. You hoped to be like her one day.

“It’s a little rough at first,” she admits, wiping stray crumbs off the table, “but you’ll be fine. To be honest, I saw some of the samples you sent in with your resume. Just a peek though! Your pattern-designing is really interesting and pretty, so I think they’ll be useful in the future. If you need any help…you know…feel free to ask me.”

After lunch, you feel like a new person. You’re not sure if it’s just getting food in your system, or Yachi’s genuine optimism and show of support, but you’re determined to work harder. After getting chewed out by your supervisor for making multitudes of errors in the files, you’re back at rock bottom again. Expected.

Walking out of the office building, you trudge your way back home, squeezing your way through the mob of people all rushing to get back home at the station. Taking the train was economical on your part, but a massive hellish experience. You always took notice to stay near the doors, but eventually, people would just push you toward the middle, and you’d be stuck there. Pushing your way back out was a million times worse, as you never felt good about shoving other passengers, even if their actions warranted it.

From there, you carefully follow your GPS back to your apartment complex on foot. You didn’t exactly know yet the area that well, so you were careful to not get lost. As you’re walking, you stop and notice the little florist shop and its display of pink and red flowers. They’re small, and the way the setting sun hits the freshly watered petals, reflecting glimmers of light, fascinates you. Walking closer toward the shop, you lean down and admire the delicate beauty in awe.

“Sorry, but that’s just display. We’re currently out of carnations,” a familiar deep voice informs, followed by the closing and locking of the door. You look up to the source and let out an audible gasp. “Oh, hey. It’s you.”

“So that’s what you meant last night by cutting and dying,” you muse, looking at your neighbor and the daffodils he has in hand. “And here I thought you were some kind of gang leader.”

“I suppose what I said taken out of context sounds pretty bad,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. He looks down at his bouquet and motions them toward you. “I was gonna give you this when I got back, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. Here. Congratulations on moving in, Neighbor.”

“Thanks,” you laugh, graciously accepting the house-warming gift. “Although, it’d be better if I could get a name to thank. I’m Y/N by the way.”

“Shit, did I never mention a name?” he murmurs, tsking. You almost laugh again. Poor introductions seemed to be a pattern, and you were one of the worst offenders. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. I’m, as you can see, the owner of this shop. Some people call me a florist, but I’m really a plant magician.”

“I’m sure you are,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “Did you just get off from work?”

“Yup. This shop closes every day at 7 PM. Won’t be catching me doing overtime.”

“What about last night?”

“Except when I forget things, which usually doesn’t happen,” Kuroo clarifies with a smirk. He glances at your offense attire and raises a brow. “First day not so good, huh? Are you going home? I’d be willing to lend an ear if you’d like.”

“How kind of you,” you sigh, then nod tiredly. “It’s my second day here, and I already have a therapist. Lovely.”

“It’s good to complain a little from time to time.”

Following the florist, you hum a little in contemplation. Then, taking a deep breath, you being to talk about how terrible your day was and how you’ve been yelled at more times today than ever in your life and that reading the manual over and over again actually didn’t help, but none of the senior workers were very approachable. To be honest, you felt a little bit silly, opening up so quickly to a stranger, but once you started, you couldn’t stop. In fact, you don’t even notice when you’re right in front of the door to your apartment room until you hear the jingling of Kuroo’s own keys.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” you murmur, embarrassed for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. “I didn’t mean to rant-“

“But you look so much better after letting a little bit of steam off,” Kuroo interrupts, flashing you an insanely bright smile. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Since we’re neighbors that share the same route home, let’s just be friends, yeah?”

“Y-yeah?” you say like a question. “I mean, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Then, see you around, or maybe tomorrow, Y/N,” the florist concludes, unlocking the door to his room, already halfway in. “Hope tomorrow goes better for you.”

“Thanks,” you reply, giving him a wave before stepping into your own home. Setting your shoes aside, you quickly wonder what to do with the flowers. It’s not like you had a vase ready, so you take an empty water bottle out from the recycling instead. Carefully setting the yellow buds into the container, you leave it at the center of the table, deciding that the centerpiece brought a little life into your apartment.

“Hey,” you hear Kenma murmur, walking out of your room with console in hand. You then remember that you really did more life in your apartment. “Nice flowers.”

“You’re not even looking at them,” you chuckle and roll your eyes. “The neighbor gave them to me. Do you like them?”

“They’re fine.”

You laugh again at his aloof attitude and try to throw away the parchment paper that was used to wrap the bouquet. It’s until then that you notice a small note flutter down onto the floor. You bend over and pick it up, wondering if it’s a price tag or something of the sort.

“Hey, it’s Kuroo. You probably already knew that lol. Anyways, I hope u like daffodils. Keep them away from direct heat, and they should live for a while. Since we both seem to be like night owls, feel free to cure my of my boredom. XXX-XXX-XXXX”

“Why are you smiling in the middle of the kitchen?” Kenma asks, brow raised, and in hindsight, you must have looked dumb. If a ghost thought you were creepy, the look you had on must have been just terrible.

“Nothing,” you say quickly and scramble to set the note aside. You know he doesn’t buy it, but you don’t care or want to elaborate on how the florist next door’s kindness made you feel unusually warm. Surprisingly, finding your first friend in a new area was much more relieving that you had expected it to be, especially when your new friend seemed so open and lived close by. “It’s just a note on how to take care of the daffodils.”

“Oh.” There’s a brief silence, and you brush it off as him going back to his game. “I guess that’s fitting since they mean new beginnings or something like that.”

Now that was odd coming from a ghost who couldn’t even remember why he was still here.

“How do you know that?” You watch as he comes to a realization too, eyes widening ever so slightly out of sheer surprise. HIs reaction reassures you that he isn’t lying to you about the amnesia, and you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m not sure.” He’s frowning, seeming to rack his mind for any clue, anything at all to remind him of where his knowledge came from and why he couldn’t move on. It’s all fruitless in the end. “I…really don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a small smile. “It doesn’t matter that much anyway. I don’t mind cooking another portion, especially when you eat so little. Or maybe I eat a lot- Well, whatever.”

From the couch, Kenma nods and sinks into the cushions. Still, he wants to know why out of everything he could have remembered, why were they the flowers. In his current state, he can’t imagine himself as a flower buff in the past; hell, he doesn’t remember being the sun, but every morning when it rises, he feels like he’d hate to be in it, so if he can’t stand the outdoors now, he probably couldn’t either in the past. He thinks hard and long, but when you call him and tell him that’s dinner’s ready, all he can do is give up and go listen about your day.

It’s all so strange, he thinks.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou #tetsurou kuroo #kuroo #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma kozume

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aelaer · 4 years

Text

The Blood in My Veins (a serial)

Okay, so I will sometimes let prompts that interest me just sit for a bit and see if they remain in my head or not and yeah, Prompt #608 from @ironstrangeprompts (which I can't tag for some reason) wouldn't go away and I blame absolutely everyone who told me to do it for distracting me from the long multi-chapters I'm desperately trying to write this year. But in return you get Part One of a tumblr serial with absolutely no idea as to where it's going and no update schedule in mind. :P But it's supposed to get to the reveal in the prompt eventually. Promise. Speculation highly encouraged as that helps plot bunnies very much.

Prompt: Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner; Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.

This is unbetaed; apologies for any errors.

Part 1 - How We Began

Stephen's thoughts were sluggish and his memory spotty as he began to wake up. Worse, he had a headache that was boring into his temples and made the idea of opening his eyes, never mind moving, sound like an absolutely terrible one.

Sound began to filter through the fog. Eventually he was able to distinguish some words within it.

"...waking up…"

"...pulse is still slow…"

"...considering what he was given…"

He recognized none of the voices. Through sheer stubbornness alone, Stephen ignored his pounding head and forced his heavy eyelids open, only to immediately close them again against the sharp brightness of the fluorescent lighting above him. He could not help but groan.

"Right, the lights," someone—female—said, and he felt a cloth placed over his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't do anything about the lights, but you'll adjust to them soon enough. I have some water for you when you're ready, too."

Some part of Stephen's brain registered that she had an English accent. The rest of the functioning part of his mind focused on speaking. "Who…" And that was all he could manage at the moment.

"My name's Doctor Summer Weston," she answered.

A doctor? Was he injured? He wet his lips and tried for more than one word. "My... injuries?" What had he been doing to get injured? How bad was it? How much morphine was running through his system?

He felt Doctor Weston's fingers on his radial pulse. (Why was she doing that? Where was the EKG?) "No injuries; your current headache and sensitivity to light are an after effect of the drug in your system. I think you're at the tail end of your symptoms, though."

That… made no sense in a number of ways. Stephen forced his eyes open once more, and the cloth over his eyes made the endeavor manageable this time. "What happened?"

He heard her exhale softly. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Stephen had to pause to think about it, which was both incredibly unusual and rather annoying. He frowned to himself as he concentrated. Was he at the hospital? No, he was off. He was… "Grocery shopping. I was at the store. I think I paid." Yes, he remembered paying. He had decided to walk the three blocks to and from the store and was heading back to his apartment. Beyond that point, his memory became fuzzy.

Doctor Weston didn't say anything about his answer and instead just said, "You need water. Do you think you can handle the light? If not, we can keep the towel on and I can help you up."

He didn't respond, but moved his arm up and pulled the cloth away from his eyes, squinting at the ugly rectangle panels above him. The other doctor helped him up into a sitting position and gave him a bottle of water, but Stephen was too busy staring at his surroundings. While he was on a medical bed, in front of him was a large room that could only be described as a biochemical lab. It had state-of-the-art equipment, much of it looking brand new, and working there was another man and two women all in lab coats. Against nearby walls away from the machinery were several other medical beds.

"Drink," Doctor Weston encouraged, and his parched throat more than anything had Stephen doing so.

"Where am I?" he asked, squinting at Doctor Summer Weston. She appeared somewhere between thirty and forty and currently wore her long brown hair in a messy bun. She was pale and looked tired, with dark bags under her grey eyes and thin lips bent downturned. She wasn't wearing any makeup, either, which was a look he knew on his female patients before surgery but usually not on female doctors (and a couple of non-women doctors, too).

"I don't know," she answered. "None of us do."

Stephen's confusion (and alarm, though he wouldn't admit that yet) grew. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She gave him a rueful smile. "There's really no easy way to break this: you've been kidnapped, just like the rest of us."

He stared at her in disbelief, half-wondering if he heard her right. His head was still pounding with his heartbeat and that made his hearing less clear, after all. "What?" was what he managed.

"Yeah." The lackluster smile returned. "So, are you an orthopedic surgeon or a neurosurgeon?"

"Neurosurgeon," he automatically answered, then stared at her. "How did you know?"

"The X-rays," was Doctor Weston's inexplicable answer. "I'll show you in a bit," she said as Stephen went to retort. "We should get introductions out of the way. Drink more water."

Stephen frowned at her, but his head was still complaining and for that reason alone he drank instead of demanding further answers that moment. At least the light was becoming more bearable.

In the meantime, Doctor Weston called to the others, "He's fully awake now. Take a break for introductions and water."

One of the women, who was in her mid-forties, he guessed, with thick straight black hair pulled back, and a rich coppery brown skin that appeared in tight and worried lines across her face, shifted in discomfort. She adjusted her narrow-rimmed glasses then looked over to the wall, and Stephen followed her gaze to see a camera in the corner. "How long have we been working?" she asked; she also had an English accent.

"About five hours," Doctor Weston said after looking at her watch. "You should be okay for a few minutes."

"I think so. I have to wait for the centrifuge to finish, anyway," said the third woman, and the tallest of the three women (though maybe it was her natural curly hair giving her extra height). Her white lab coat contrasted sharply against her rich umber skin under the bright fluorescent lights, and just like the others, she looked stressed and tired. She appeared somewhere about his age and was definitely American, with the slightest hint of a southern twang in her voice.

The final one in the room, a balding man with salt-and-pepper hair and perhaps in his mid-forties or early fifties, stepped forward from his work station first. His complexion was a flushed pink and he wore thick lenses, but they did nothing to hide his bright green irises. "How are you feeling?" He spoke with a heavy German accent.

Stephen grimaced. "I've been better," he answered as he was surrounded by the four of them.

"We know what it feels like," the African-American woman replied. "I'm Doctor Jada Ferguson. Hematologist, University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center, Houston."

"Doctor Meera Mahajan," said the other unnamed woman. "Pathologist with a specialty in cytopathology, from St Bartholomew's Hospital in London."

"I'm from London, too," Doctor Weston added. "Though from St Thomas' Hospital. Cardiothoracic surgeon."

"And I'm Doctor Steffen Baar," said the man. "I work as a pharmaceutical chemist for Bayer in Wuppertal, in western Germany."

Stephen wrapped his mind around this new information as they introduced themselves and started trying to connect the pieces of this (terrifying) puzzle together. After they finished speaking, he cleared his throat and said, "Doctor Stephen Strange. Neurosurgeon, Metro-General, New York."

Doctor Ferguson made an affirmative noise. "I read your latest publication not that long ago. It was fascinating."

"I've read yours as well," Stephen said, then looked at the others. "I've read publication papers from all of you within the last three years." And there was a reason he remembered their names; they were all brilliant studies and clearly experts in their specialties. Why the fucking hell were they all here?

His face must have reflected his thoughts, because Doctor Mahajan said, "Whoever brought us here wants us to work." She glanced over her shoulder, then added, "Which is apparent." She then opened her mouth, paused, then shut it.

Stephen frowned. "Work on what, exactly?"

Doctor Weston also looked over towards the camera, then said, "Our job is to keep an unknown patient alive. And you've been drafted."

Tagging @walkin-in-the-cosmos (though it’s not tagging right) and @queenofalotofdifferentworlds as requested in the original prompt post.

Full disclosure: In terms of writing I concentrate more on plot and worldbuilding and not really the development of romance. Whenever this serial ends, it'll likely end on an ambiguous, open ending to interpret the relationship's route to the reader's pleasure (what we once labeled "gen or pre-slash" stories, not sure if that's used anymore). It'll definitely not explore anything remotely sexual beyond your usual PG-13 innuendo (if that). So if that's not what you're looking for in this prompt fill you can ignore the rest of the series :)

But if the serial does interest you and you want to be tagged in the next post, I'm starting the clean slate with this first one. Just leave a comment expressing interest in being notified/tagged for the serial, though I'm afraid I have no planned update schedule.

#stephen strange #tony stark #avengers fanfiction #doctor strange fanfic #doctor strange #my fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #prompt fill

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voidselfshipp · 3 years

Text

The Runaway

Cw: none, ask to tag

Ok to rb

Chapter finale bitch!

Jerico woke up with the wind tapping at her window, its early morning.

She sits on the bed, turning to see her loving husband completly passed out.

She giggles caressing his side, and pressing a kiss to his warm cheek.

Going to take a bath she then changed clothes and grabbed a black parasol heading for the village with waffle behind her.

It was cloudy, the night before it snowed so the homes were adorned with white.

She Walked around the market, grabbing some things she thinks Lucas would like.

Suddenly waffle barks and runs to an older Man.

He looked so familiar.

Walking up to him, he picks her dog up, talking to her in a familiar accent -- ah hello waffle! No time no see!

--well color me impressed, nikolai?

The Man looks up to jerico, with a warm smile-- oh look at you, all grown up now

Jerico giggled, grabbing waffle-- what are you doing here?

-- I live here of course, and what are you doing here?

Jer shrugged-- well you remember that the dimitrescu family adopted me, so this is my home too

Niko nodds-- da, I remember, well its starting to get cold, let me invite you for a warm drink at my place? Just for old times sake?

She nodds-- id love to but I gitta be home by midday, I hav some stuff to do

He nodds and both walk to his home, the cozy ambient Provided much needed warmth.

Once they had a warm drink they sat on the couch with the TV going off in the background.

-- what did you get in the market?--nikolai asked.

Jer shrugged-- just some stuff I think my husband would like

The world stopped for nikolai right then and there-- h husband?

She nodds-- oh I havent told you did I? I got married!

He smiled with pain behind it-- ah congratulations, hes very lucky to have you

--hey before I leave though, can I ask you a question?

-- uh yeah

-- why you left our home, when we "broke up" ?just the night before we had an amazing date and then boom, never to be seen again

He sighed-- I used to be a mercenary, things got dangerous and I didnt want you to suffer, im so sorry, I was such a fool

She sighed patting his arm-- I dont hold any grudge towards you, dont worry --He sighed in relief-- well I gotta go, I wanna get these things to Lucas before he wakes fool

Waffle runs to her owner and both say their goodbyes.

She arrives home just in time to see Lucas wake up.

-- morning handsome -- jerico said caressing his side-- breakfast is ready

Lucas smiles sitting up finding the tray with coffee, Bacon and eggs some centimiters away.

--Ya pamper me too much-- he said putting the tray on his lap, waffle just besides him and jerico snuggled up to him, Like a child between her parents.

Jer leans against Lucas shoulder as he eats, handing waffle a piece of a....waffle.

-- she can eat that?

-- shes a genetically engenireed dog of course she can--he added.

She raised her brows with a smile-- okay okay fine--Both giggle and kiss-- you should brush your teeth after this okay? You have bad morning breath

He laughs kissing her cheek-- okay

That same night, they had unexpected visitors, the long and big dinner room was perfectly decorated, there were some extra plates, wich jer didnt notice much.

--jerico!-- she freezes at the sound of a familiar voice.

She turns around to find her old four lovers at the door of the dinning room

--jill?! Carlos?! What are you guys doing here?

Lady dimitrescu walks up behind her-- I invited them over, since today its your fourth anniversary with Lucas

She knew her mom didnt do this on purpose, but she couldnt let it slide today.

While eating jer was deadly silent.

Lucas,who sitting Infront of her, took her hand-- are you okay? Youre too quiet

-- well, having to eat dinner with your exes is kinda tough

He nodds squeezing her hand-- you can concentrate on me, its just for Tonight

She nodds and finally smiles-- youre the best husband ever, did I told you that?

He smiles-- all the time hun

Jericos exes smile at the scene, yet a part of them also hurted, how did they let slide someone as wonderfull as her?

Theyd stay the night,and a couple of days more, as they all chattered,except jerico who went to walk with her dog Carlos spoke up.

-- you are one lucky Man, you know that? -- he said drinking from his glas-- everyone of us let her slide, some more than others -- he looked a nikolai who insulted him in russian.

-- well, you guys gave me a tough road-- Lucas said-- Man,she was devastated, she cried Rivers upon rivers-- he noticed the pained expressions of the people around him-- but uhh... we solved it,shes happy now wich is what matters

They nodd-- amen

That night, jerico was soundly asleep, its maybe four am, she wakes up, her throat dry.

Being careful not to wake up Lucas or waffle she opens the door, just like her sisters, jerico could turn into a cloud of insects, and that she did, floating to the kitchen where she transformed into a human again.

With a glass of water in hand she drank from it hearing ball music play in the Background.

Walking to the ballroom she peeks her head into the room, her mom always liked dancing at late hours of the night.

--Mind if I ask you for a dance?-- jill scared the crap out of jer.

-- JESUS! You scared me jill!-- she sighed, to then smile-- yeah of course

Alcina smiled watching her daughter dance,she taught her well.

They moved gracefully across the floor.

When the song ended jill pulled jerico closer.

-- nice dance,partner-- they heard Kevin say in the distance

-- ah thanks-- jerico fixed her clothes-- as much as id like to dance all night, I gotta go, Lucas has to wake up early and im the only one that can get him out of bed, by yall!

She bolted to her room, throwing herself into her bed, Rolling on her side to hug Lucas.

The Next morning jerico heard a soft knock on her door,Jill enters with her breakfast-- hey, hey jer wake up

Jer yawns sitting on the bed-- oh..thanks jill--she sits up looking at the food.

-- whats wrong?

--nothing it just reminds me of when we were togheter

Valentine sighs-- I never apologized did I? Im so sorry , I shouldnt have left you for work, I realized it too late..

Jer hugged her -- its okay, I dont hold it against you

She smiles,--mind if I Keep you company?

-- not at all

During the afternoon, Carlos and her played football on the courtyard--like old times right!

Jer laughs-- this time im kicking your ass Carlos!

--id like to see that!

Both spend an hour or so,then Kevin gaver her a ride to the market since her own Motorcycle was broken.

When she hugged him,the old feelings came back.

-- remember when we used to go and ride around the city? We used to do that all the time!-- kev said.

Jerico laughed-- yeah we did! It was so fun!.

And at night she spend it Reading with nikolai.

The old feelings came back, and she told Lucas this.

-- im not trying to say that you arent enough-- shes been on a tangent for two minutes now.

Her husband kisses her-- jerico calm down, I know what youre trying to say, all I wanna know is, would you be happier if they are with you too? --She nodds hiding her face on his chest-- then so be it, I just want you to be happy remember? I promised you that when I asked you to be my girlfriend..

Jericos now exes were stoked, theyd take her back in a heartbeat.

And Lucas found himself making Friends with them too, specially nikolai who was just as much of an evil genius as he was.

Jill always scolded them both, Kevin joined their misadventures from time to time.

And Carlos was the only one making sure Lady dimitrescu didnt throw them all out.

Things were bound to get interesting and even with the possible Shenanigans that were sure to ensure, jerico wouldnt have it any other way.

#longpost #f/o fic #ask to tag #🌂🦇the runaway 🦇🌂

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