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shadowynn · 1 year

Text

| the paradigm complex | three |

pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

genre: yandere!vampire!cult!poly!ateez au

warnings: yandere behavior, some cursing, negative thoughts, cheating, toxic relationships, (like, um, things aren't really healthy here in anyone's relationship except for reader and felix. sorry.)

summary:

They'll do whatever you ask. Anything you need. Anything you want. It's yours. They'll fulfill your every desire and whim. Give you the life you had always dreamed about.

And in exchange, you wouldn't just give them your soul. Oh, no, They weren't demons. What good was your soul when your purpose was better served alive and well? Your soul was nice, sure, but it wasn't all they wanted. It wasn't all they needed. They needed your body, your mind. Your blood. You entirely. Every single fiber of your being would soon be theirs and theirs alone.

The moment you signed that contract, everything would change. For them and for you.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

word count: 8.3k

a/n: i'm sorry it took this long, but i think i finally got this where i want it to be. i'm also laughing at my past self for saying this wasn't going to be serious and not really a novel and more of a series of one-shots, and yet, here i am, writing a novel because apparently i can't write anything else. oops. but, seriously, i hope you all enjoy. and let me know if i missed anyone on the tags or if you want to be added/removed.

| two | three | four |

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stared at the open trunk of your car, wondering just how the hell you were going to get either box up to your new apartment by yourself. When you had ordered the new mattress and bedframe for your new place, you had been counting on Felix to help you move things in, but then he had called earlier stating he was sick and leaving you by yourself for the day.

You couldn’t blame him. Not when you knew he had been looking forward to this day almost as much as you had, eager for an inside look at The Paradigm and a possible peek at your future coworkers. But the timing of it all couldn’t have been worse for you, having already picked up your new furniture from the store by the time he had called you to let you know. If your situation had been normal, you could have just left them in your car until the following weekend, but you knew that would only put you in a worse situation. One where you might be forced to kiss your new life goodbye before it had ever even started.

Knowing there was an elevator did give you a slight boost in confidence, and you thought you could very possibly get the box that contained your bed frame up to your place. The mattress, however, was a different story. Perhaps you might have been able to do it if you dragged it, but even then, you risked making a commotion and you didn’t want to accidentally damage anything in the endeavor either. The last thing you needed was to make a worse impression than you already had; the fact you had been late to your lease signing still haunted your mind despite Seonghwa’s insistence it was fine.

The only other option you could think of was to ask one of your future coworkers for help. Since you had signed the lease last Monday, you had been added to a group chat with the eight of them, each who had been nothing short of sweet and welcoming to you. And though there had been multiple offers of help extended your way, you hadn’t actually expected to take any of them up on it. You didn’t want to bother them on a Saturday afternoon, especially with such a late notice, but your fear of keeping the boxes in your car for another week only to risk your boyfriend seeing them far outweighed your fear of asking for help.

Running a hand through your hair and doing your best to ignore the anxieties that popped up from the thought, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up the group chat. Your eyes briefly skimmed over the previous messages, unable to keep your cheeks from tinting pink at their content, especially knowing the face behind each name.

They chatted often. Not enough to where your phone was always blowing up, but enough for you to see the clear bond between them, leading to many occasions of you feeling like you were an intruder, not quite familiar with many of their jokes or references. But just when you would begin to wonder if they had forgotten you were there, someone would direct the conversation your way, directly asking your opinion on the matter or apologizing on the behalf of someone else in the chat.

You scrolled past the messages that had come through on your drive over as you hesitated - someone had borrowed one of Hongjoong’s jackets a few weeks ago and had yet to return it - fingers hovering over the screen for a few seconds as you wondered just how to word the message without sounding too needy. By the time you had come up with something and typed it out, you quickly deleted it before retyping something else before deleting and repeating the process all over a second time. This time however, you hit send before you could even think about talking yourself out of it and attempting to move in by yourself to avoid the anxiety asking for help always brought.

Your regret was immediate, and you quickly locked your phone up and slid it in your pocket to avoid seeing any responses the request might pull and wondering just what you were thinking. Your phone buzzed almost immediately, and you froze, wanting to pull it out, and yet, terrified all the same. When it buzzed once again a few seconds later, you slowly pulled it out, preparing yourself for the worst, but finding two acceptances instead. Jongho had been the first to respond with a short, but enthusiastic Me! while Mingi had followed a few seconds later, stating he was also free if an extra set of hands was needed.

There was relief in knowing you would be able to unpack your car this weekend, but the solution had come with its own set of problems. Not only did you still feel like an inconvenience for bothering them on the weekend, but you really didn’t know any of them at this point, and had yet to even meet either of the two who had offered to help you today face-to-face. From your previous experiences with each of them, you were confident you could get along well enough, but it would still be a while before you became comfortable enough around them that you didn’t always feel slightly on edge.

You sifted through a few of the other boxes and bags in your car as you waited for Jongho and Mingi to come, briefly checking your own appearance in your car’s rear view mirror. Now that you no longer needed your savings to rent a place of your own, you had been free to spend some of it on furnishing your new apartment and had spent the majority of the morning out shopping. Besides your clothing, books, and a few other belongings you couldn’t bear to part with, there was little you would be actually taking from your current place and you wanted this place to be as move-in ready as it could be by this time next week. And while you hadn’t gotten everything you needed, not quite having enough on hand to buy any other major furniture pieces besides a bed, you were able to snag some new towels, bedsheets, and enough dishware to get you started for the time being.

Your eyes glanced behind you every so often as you waited, looking out for the two who had stated they were on their way down once you had given them your location. You weren’t sure exactly what either boy looked like, but you did have a sneaking suspicion you would be able to spot them nonetheless. All you had to do was likely wait for the next two attractive strangers to leave the apartment building and you were sure to find them.

And though you did your best to not let your mind dwell there, you found yourself growing self-conscious of your own appearance, checking and straightening your hair up once more in the mirror. You had dressed simply for the occasion, putting your own comfort first, and merely pulling on a pair of joggers, cropped tee, and a jacket that you had since wrapped around your waist from the lingering summer heat. Before, you had at least tried to fit in with the higher class of the complex, but one brief look at the tenants who had just walked inside, and you were swiftly reminded of how much you stuck out here.

You didn’t have to wait too much longer. Just a few minutes later and you found you had been right in your earlier assessment. At the sound of the door opening behind you, you glanced back to find two men walking out, both equally as attractive as the others. The one on the left was tall, just as tall if not taller than Yunho had been, while the other was just a few inches taller than yourself. Something that had been said must have annoyed the shorter one, as he shoved the other as they made their way outside, but a smile was planted on each of their faces and the earlier action done playfully.

Upon seeing you standing by your car, both of their faces instantly lit up and the taller one was quick to wave. His smile was infectious, leaving you to follow suit with your own before returning his wave as well.

“You must be y/n.” It was the taller one who addressed you first as they drew close, holding out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Mingi.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mingi.” Now that you were close, you could see his hair was not black like you had originally thought, but a dark blue. that shone through in the fluorescent lights of the parking garage.

His smile nearly had you melting up close, instantly setting your nerves to rest as you took his hand. So, this was the other doctor who served at the complex, seemingly just as sweet and gentle as Yunho had been. And with his appearance just as young as the former, you wondered if the two had met in medical school. They definitely appeared around the same age as each other.

“I’m Jongho.” The other swiftly stole your attention, his smile just as endearing as the one before. All it took was one quick look and you were struck with the sudden urge to know just what it felt like to be hugged by him, all but craving to be wrapped up in his warm embrace.

“So, you needed some help moving things in?” Mingi asked, snapping the strange spell that had grabbed hold of you in that moment, a slight edge to his tone that surprised you. You turned your gaze back to him just in time to see the look he had given Jongho, not quite angry, nor was it quite frustrated either, but almost reprimanding. But a smile was quick to replace it when his gaze met yours once more, leaving you wondering if it hadn’t just been a trick of the light.

“Yes, sorry.” Your smile became bashful, once again embarrassed by having to ask for their help. “My friend was supposed to be here with me today to help, but then he came down with something and wasn’t able to make it, so thank you, truly, for your help. I really appreciate it.”

You ran your hand through your hair, wondering if you would ever feel completely at ease around any of them. You had no want for any sort of romantic relationship once you finally broke things off with your boyfriend the following week, but the strange attraction you felt towards each of them was enough to keep you on edge, leaving you flustered more often than not, all but craving to get in closer.

“It shouldn’t take too long. I just needed some help with these two boxes,” you motioned to the two larger ones, inwardly cursing yourself. You had never had this problem before, not even with Haneul, who you had been silently crushing on since he had started working with you. “So, maybe just five or so minutes of your time and then you can return back to whatever it was you were doing beforehand.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re both more than happy to help.” Jongho waved your concern away, moving past you to grab the heavier of the two boxes. “Neither of us were up to anything important. We were just hiding out at Wooyoung’s place while he started prepping for dinner tonight, which he said you are more than welcome to come to as well, by the way.”

“Careful, that’s-” You barely registered the invitation to dinner, more concerned about helping Jongho with the box he was pulling out, but he lifted it with ease, “...heavy.”

You found it impossible not to stare, watching it awe as he shifted the box onto his right shoulder to help support the weight, and unable to keep your eyes from wandering over the muscles on his arms. You had struggled to lift the box into your car earlier, and yet, he had made it look like it was nothing.

Just how much did this guy workout?

“Careful, Jongho,” Mingi’s voice held a similar tone from earlier, breaking you out from your thoughts once more. You were acutely aware you had been staring at Jongho in that moment, and shifted your gaze away, but not before Jongho had caught your wandering eyes out of the corner of his own.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” He waved both of your concerns away, an innocent, yet almost smug smile on his face.

Mingi didn’t seem nearly as amused, but his expression lightened when he turned to address you. “Don’t worry, I can get the other one if you don’t mind getting the doors.”

You nodded, watching in a similar awe as Mingi grabbed the box that contained your new bed frame with just as much ease as Jongho before. You knew you weren’t that strong, but you didn’t think you were that weak either. Sure, you didn’t go to the gym every day, or even every other day for that matter, but you liked to think you had some muscles from casually working out with Felix over the past few years when you had the time.

It took you several seconds to comprehend Mingi’s request, body and mind not quite catching up to what was currently happening until Jongho called for you from further ahead. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of the daze and grabbing a few bags from your trunk before running up to grab the door for Jongho before he reached it.

You didn’t have to direct either of them to your unit. Upon reaching the elevator, Mingi had pressed the button for the sixth floor before you could even think to say something and guided you effortlessly down the hall to where the door to your apartment lay.

“Where would you like us to put them?” Mingi asked as he slid past the door you held open and into the main room. “Upstairs?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

It felt strange coming back here, once again in complete awe of the space around you. It was more than you could ever dream of, and completely yours. A fact you didn’t think would ever settle completely in your head.

“Hey, y/n, this is your bed, right?” Jongho pulled you from your thoughts, leaning over the banister of the lofted area to address you. “You want us to put it together for you while we’re here?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I can get it myself later.” You shook your head, waving his offer away. “I’ve taken enough of your Saturday as it is.”

“Trust me, neither one of us minds. And if I’m being honest, you’re really doing us a favor. Hongjoong was trying to rope us into running a few errands for him since we were free and I did not feel like driving around town all afternoon.” Propping his elbows up against the edge, he rested his chin down into his hands. “So, we are now your humble servants for the rest of the afternoon, ready and willing to do whatever you need of us.”

He winked, and you hoped he couldn’t see the blush that tinted your cheeks as you turned your head away and used all your current brainpower to come up with a proper response.

“C’mon, while Jongho starts putting the bed frame together, why don’t you and I get the rest of the stuff from your car?” Mingi didn’t seem to have any reservations about Jongho’s former statement as he came back down the stairs, motioning with his head for the two of you to head back out. “And then we can help him finish when we’re done.”

He didn’t wait for you to agree, leaving you no choice but to follow after him and accept their offer of help.

“So, how long have you lived here?” You asked once the two of you had made it back down to your car, shuffling around some of the boxes to have a better grip.

“I’ve been here since The Paradigm opened,” Mingi replied, taking the heavier boxes from your hands and leaving you with just the new bedsheets and towels to carry. “Hongjoong and I have known each other for a long time, so when he introduced a new business venture he was interested in, I signed right up. The rent was free and it certainly beat the long shifts at the hospital.” He shrugged, closing your trunk for you now that it was empty. “What about you? Have you always lived in the city?”

You shook your head, readjusting the bags in your hands to open the door for the two of you. “I grew up in a pretty rural area up north, but moved down here for college, so I’ve only been in the city for about… three years now, I think.”

“And what do you think about it?”

“City life definitely has its pros and cons, and for the most part, I really do love living here, but I don’t know,” you shrugged, “sometimes it’s just a little overwhelming being in such a big place all on your own.”

“You’re by yourself?” Mingi’s head tilted, surprised by your words. “I’m sorry, I just assumed you had been living with someone else.”

“Well, you’d be right about that. I pretty much moved in with my boyfriend as soon as I arrived, but,” you paused, unsure how exactly to word your current situation, “I guess I've always felt like I was still all by myself.”

“Is that why you’re getting a new place?”

You shook your head. “We’re actually breaking up, so I was in need of a new place to stay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, but it’s really for the best.” It was hard to meet Mingi’s eyes as you waited for the elevator, fingers nervously fidgeting with the bags in your hands. “The two of us might have been fighting the inevitable for a while, but it’s really something that’s been coming for a long time now, and honestly, as terrified as it makes me being out on my own again, I’m also relieved to finally be able to get away.”

“And why’s that?” It was hard to place Mingi’s expression. He was empathetic towards your situation, that was obvious, but there was something else there. Something more than the vague curiosity he presented alongside it.

You could feel your body freezing up on you, wondering if it was appropriate to dump all your past trauma on someone you had just met, but Mingi felt nothing but genuine next to you. His gentle nature all but encouraging you to tell him what was on your mind.

“Well, let’s just say the guy has never learned how to keep it in his pants.” The words rolled out with ease, prompting you to continue. “And I know, I’m an idiot for staying with him through it all this time, but each time I talked to him about it, he truly seemed sorry and willing to change, and it’s not like I had anywhere else to go.”

Your words trailed off, feeling self-conscious over your past attempts. It was so easy to see how foolish you were now. To see how you should have left. To see how anyone in their right mind would have left, and yet, you hadn’t. You had allowed him to convince you to stay each and every time, fully believing everything would work out.

You tugged the bags you were holding closer to your chest, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant in that moment. As much as you knew the problem lay with him and not yourself, you still fought against the lies that told you it was your fault, that if you had only been better, none of this would have ever happened. He would have never cheated on you; you would have never gotten yourself hurt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump that all on you.”

“I don’t mind. After all, it’s not good to keep feelings all bottled up inside and if it makes you feel better, I can listen to you rant about him as long as you need.” Mingi’s shoulder bumped against your own as the elevator came to a stop, and you could see his smile reflecting in the doors as they opened, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes this time around. “But I can’t help but feel a little concerned over the fact you’re still living with him over this next week. Are you sure that’s safe?”

“It’s not ideal, sure, but it’s not like I have any other choice. I would have loved to move in as soon as I had signed the lease, but he knows where I work and he would have just come in one day and convinced me to change my mind. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be.” You could feel your body tensing, not quite comfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. It was uncomfortable to talk about this side of your past, embarrassing to see just how easily you had allowed him to manipulate you. “But it’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been with him for the past three years, so I can do one more week as long as he doesn’t catch on that I’m leaving. And despite his cheating ways, he’s never done anything to hurt me. Well,” you frowned, instantly taking note of the lie you had just spoken, “not physically, at least.”

You drove the conversation to its end as you made it back to your apartment, motioning for Mingi to set his boxes on the kitchen counter for now. And while you made your way upstairs to check on Jongho and leave the conversation completely, Mingi excused himself out into the hallway to make a quick phone call once he remembered he had forgotten to list a few of the supplies he had needed Hongjoong to pick up during his time out.

“You want some help?”

Jongho had made some progress in your absence, the majority of the pieces scattered around him in the relative shape of a bed, and you couldn’t help but feel partially guilty for leaving him to do the task for you when it was your bed frame.

He nodded, motioning for you to come over. “If you could hold this together for me real quick, that would be great.”

“Of course.”

You matched his smile as you settled down on the ground beside him to take hold of the pieces he was talking about, and it didn’t take long for you to become aware of how close the two of you were in that moment. Especially, when he leaned in closer to screw together the two pieces you were holding for him.

“Once again, thank you.” You spoke after a few minutes, hoping to alleviate some of the tension you felt from being so close to him, and hating how on edge he made you. It was the same way with the others, and yet, it was distinctly worse around some than others. Jongho’s presence fell towards the latter, and you had a much harder time keeping a grip on your thoughts and emotions around him than you had with Mingi, and yet, one look at both of them was enough for all your solid reasoning to leave your body. “I really appreciate your help.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Jongho replied, arm brushing up against yours. “Like I said earlier, you’re really doing us a favor in return. We were looking for an excuse to be busy until dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned Wooyoung was making dinner for you. That’s very sweet of him.” You thought Jongho might have mentioned Wooyoung had also extended an invitation towards you, but didn’t want to make any assumptions in case you had heard him wrong, distracted by the show of strength of the boy next to you.

“He’s just about the only one of us who’s actually any good at cooking. Well, Seonghwa’s pretty decent as well, but he doesn’t enjoy it the way Wooyoung does, nor is he as willing to share with the rest of us. Woo usually hosts a dinner once or twice a week, but you’ll definitely have to watch out for him,” Jongho continued. “Baking is pretty much that man’s love language and he’ll load you with more goods and sweets then you’ll know what to do with.”

“Oh, well, if that’s how he is, I guess it’s a good thing I have a sweet tooth.”

The words were out before you could stop them, and it took you a few seconds to realize just what you had said and how it might have sounded, especially the chuckle it had pulled out of Jongho. You hadn’t meant anything by it, but as you quickly ran through the words in your head once more, you began to question what exactly Jongho had meant by his statement and if it hadn’t been as innocent as you had first believed. Especially when he was quick to quip back, “You’re not the only one.”

And was it your imagination, or had he shifted closer to you than necessary? Leaning forward into you as he reached around your body to tighten the piece he had you holding.

Thankfully, you were saved from responding when Mingi came up the stairs behind you, though the way he cleared his voice to announce his presence didn’t make you feel any better from the position Jongho had taken around you.

“Fucking hell, Mingi.” Jongho’s string of curses was almost too low to hear, leaving you once again wondering what exactly was going on around you as Jongho straightened back up. His eyes rolled, agitation once again lining his features, or at least you thought it had. One blink and the look was gone, replaced with another innocent expression as he motioned to his left hand. “Sorry, cut myself.” His hand rose to his mouth, briefly sucking on the end of his middle finger to get rid of the blood that had begun pooling on the tip.

You averted your eyes, shaking your head in an attempt to clear it and wondering just what was up with you today. Perhaps you were simply coming down with whatever illness Felix had. You had seen him the day before, after all, so you very well could have caught it from him then; the beginning of a fever clouding your mind and judgment. And yet, your forehead felt cool to the touch when you brushed the back of your hand against it despite the heat that flooded you.

Things calmed down once Mingi joined the two of you, helping you finish putting the bed frame together. Once it was completed, you directed them to where you wanted it to lie before unboxing your mattress and allowing it time to air out before tugging on the set of sheets you had bought.

By the time you were all done, it was nearly five and you were far more exhausted than you expected to be, especially knowing you had the opening shift tomorrow morning. You were supposed to be working it with Felix, but now you weren’t so sure since he had come down with something. You didn’t really have any qualms with the rest of your coworkers, nor with your managers, but working with Felix was always a lot less exhausting than working a shift with anyone else.

“Thank you again for helping me out,” you said as you made your way back downstairs, rolling out the kinks in your back. “I really appreciate all your help and I don’t mean to seem rude, but I should probably get ready to head back to my place soon.”

“You’re not going to stay for dinner?” Jongho asked, seemingly disappointed as he reminded you of the offer he had extended towards you earlier in the day.

“Oh, right.”

You had forgotten about the invitation until now, and quickly debated over what you should do. On one hand, you were exhausted and craved an evening to yourself, but on the other hand, you didn’t want to seem rude and turn down the offer either. It would be good to get to know them and the others a bit better, and if you wanted everything here to go smoothly as possible, it would be best to get on good terms with each of them.

“If you’re sure I wouldn’t be interrupting anything, I’d love to join you, but I probably can’t stay too long. I have work tomorrow morning and a fairly long drive back to my place.”

And with reassurances your presence was more than welcomed, you followed them out of your apartment and down to the floor beneath yours where Wooyoung’s own unit lay. The door was unlocked, and neither boy even bothered knocking and made their way inside as though it was their own apartment. You followed behind a bit more hesitantly, slipping off your shoes at the doorway and pushing them to the side.

The layout to Wooyoung’s place was vastly different from yours, having actual bedrooms towards the back instead of a lofted studio like your own. A large kitchen was directly to your right, which then flowed directly into a small dining room with a view of the city behind it, while the living area was to your left.

Wooyoung was busy in the kitchen upon your arrival, and you could faintly make out two figures sprawled out on the couch playing what looked to be Super Smash Bros.

“Oh, y/n, you came!”

Wooyoung was the first to notice your presence, but one mention of your name was all it took for the game on your left to pause and the two seated there to give you their attention as well. Now that their heads were turned towards you, you were able to see it was Yeosang and San seated there.

“Thanks for having me over, and for dinner too.” You returned his smile, shuffling awkwardly at everyone’s attention. “I’ve heard a lot about your cooking and can’t wait to try it.” And if it was anything like the cookies you had earlier in the week or the smell wafting from the kitchen, you knew it probably matched up to the hype.

“Well, unfortunately you’ll have to wait another hour or so before it’s ready and everyone else gets here,” Wooyoung turned as the timer on the oven went off, “but feel free to make yourself at home in the meantime and just let me know if you need anything.”

“Hey, y/n, we have plenty of controllers if you want to join.” Before you could thank Wooyoung, you were being waved over by San and Yeosang, the former waving a controller your way.

“Sure, I’d love to,” you politely excused yourself from Wooyoung as you were guided over to the living room by Mingi, “though I must warn you, I’m not very good. I never really got any of the combos down, so I’m usually just button mashing and hoping for the best.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the only one,” San replied, motioning to the spot between him and Yeosang on the couch and handing you a controller when you had sat down. “Even the bots can beat Yeosang.”

“May I remind you that we only switched to this game because you got tired of me kicking your ass in Mario Kart.”

“Don’t feel too bad, I’m even worse at that game.” You giggled as Yeosang ended the game he and San had been playing, loading up a new preset for the rest of you to join. “Thankfully, though, I can always do pretty decent in Mario Party. Which is kind of sad, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Well, we have that too if you want to switch.” Yeosang replied, but you shook your head, not wanting to ruin their fun.

“No, this is perfectly fine with me. I might be terrible at it, but I still enjoy playing.” You contemplated which character you were going to pick as you spoke. You had thought about starting with Link, but upon seeing Mingi get to him before you, you decided to just go with your other go-to for the first round.

“Sephiroth, huh?” Yeosang was the first to remark as you solidified your character.

“Mmhmm.” You shifted in your seat, pulling your legs up to your chest as you nodded. “Final Fantasy and Zelda were pretty much my childhood growing up, so I usually tend to orient towards those characters. Well, them and Joker. I never really got into the Persona games like my friend Felix, but I do love his aesthetic.”

It took you a few rounds to get back into the swing of things, having been several months since the last time you had played. You rotated between characters as you went, going from Shiek to Joker and then back to Sephiroth, but it was clear you were nowhere near the level of the others. Occasionally you would beat Yeosang, and even once managed to outlast Mingi, but on most occasions you would be the first one dead, proving your lack of skills for the game.

After a few more games, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself to go check on Wooyoung and feeling a little guilty from all the work he was doing by himself while you played. You weren’t much of a cook yourself, at least not on the level he was, but surely there was something you could do, even if it was just keeping him company for the time being.

He lounged against one of the counters, head buried into the phone he held. As his eyes scanned the small screen, a frown worked its way across his features and his fingers danced across the screen to form a reply to whatever had upset him.

“Can I help with anything?”

His head whipped up at your soft approach, and whatever had upset him was quickly replaced with a smile. With one last glance at his phone, he pocketed it and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Everything’s pretty much ready , so we’re really just waiting for the others to make it back. Hongjoong had some errands to run and it seems they had to make a few detours on their way back, so they’re running later than expected. Can I get you anything to drink in the meantime, though?”

“Water if you don’t mind.”

You took a seat at the island counter as Wooyoung fetched your drink, wondering if you would ever get used to living like this. If you would ever get used to living here at The Paradigm. Despite knowing you now had your very own place one level above, you couldn’t help but feel like it was all some hazy dream. That you would finally wake up and realize nothing had changed because you knew how crazy this whole situation was. It was just too good to be true, and yet, here you still were, seemingly still wide awake.

You chatted idly with Wooyoung as you waited, munching on a small snack he had given you when you had accidentally let it slip that you hadn’t eaten anything all day. You hadn’t meant to skip lunch, but it had just slipped your mind with everything else going on. Yeosang joined the two of you shortly after, giving video games a rest for the night after being severely beaten once more.

The others arrived shortly after, just as the sun was starting to set. You couldn’t help but grow slightly more on edge at their appearance, fully aware of Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s position above you in your new job, but it didn’t take long to ease back into a more relaxed state. Well, as relaxed as you could be around them.

Yeosang and Wooyoung kept their positions beside you, while Hongjoong took up the empty bar stool beside you. As you ate, you spoke of your childhood, your family, as well as your interests and how you had ended up in the city. You were aware of the way the attention seemed to be directed towards you, but any time you attempted to direct the conversation elsewhere and ask them about themselves, it didn’t take long for the conversation to drift its way back to you once more. You didn’t mind, not really, having nothing to hide about your past, but you couldn’t help but feel a little bad and hoped they didn’t think badly of the fact you were doing the majority of talking.

It didn’t take long for you to lose track of time, your phone laying forgotten beside you on the counter. It wasn’t until you looked outside and saw the sun had long set that you were suddenly reminded of the fact you still had a long drive back to your apartment. You grabbed your phone to check the time, barely recognizing it was much later than you had anticipated when you noticed several missed calls and a few texts from Felix alongside a message from your manager.

“Is everything alright?” Hongjoong was the first to take note of the confusion that crossed your features as you scanned over the text from your manager, the source of Felix’s concern.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s good. It’s just…” Your words trailed off, trying to make sense of what she had sent you and understanding why Felix had now been trying to get a hold of you. “Do you mind if I go make a call real quick?” You excused yourself from the bar, making your way out of the apartment and out into the hallway for some privacy as you returned Felix’s call.

“Jesus, y/n, do you know how badly you just scared me?” Felix didn’t even bother with a greeting, leaving you cringing as you realized exactly what sort of state he was in. “Don’t tell me that fucking bastard found out you were moving.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” You frowned, understanding how it must have looked from his side, and yet just as lost as he was over the whole situation. “I’m sorry for scaring you, Lix, I really didn’t mean to, but to be honest, I’m just as confused as you are. For some reason Hana texted me an hour ago saying not to bother showing up to work for my last few shifts. I texted her back asking why or if I had done something, but all she’s said is that she just got someone else to cover me.”

“Wait, so she just took you off the schedule and said not to bother finishing up?”

“That’s what it looks like.” You took a screenshot of the conversation with your manager, sending it over to Felix to show him exactly what had been said. “I mean, I guess I don’t really mind. It’s not like I need the money now, but I just don’t understand why she did it without asking me first. You don’t think I did something do you? Something that might have made her mad?”

You had never had any problems with Hana before. Sure, you had your shared frustrations towards the way she managed the store occasionally, but the two of you had always gotten along, at least you thought you had. She had always seemed to appreciate your work ethic and she had never expressed any concern towards you before. But what if something had happened? What if she had overheard one of your conversations with Felix about you wishing you could just finish up this job and move on with your life and had gotten upset over it?

“No way, you were Hana’s favorite, so maybe she just wanted to give you a break.” Felix replied, pushing back any anxieties that had popped up from it. “You’ve covered a lot of shifts for her in the past, so maybe she just wanted to repay the favor here in the end, especially knowing how excited you are.”

“I don’t know.” You leaned back against the wall behind you, still trying to run the situation over in your head. Because of the delicate position you were in, you had only simply told her and your other coworkers you were moving. The only one who knew exactly where was Felix. “Maybe.”

“Well, regardless of what or how it happened, it looks like you now have the week off, so what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.” In all your confusion over what had happened with your schedule, you had yet to even think about what that meant for you or what you might be able to do with it. “I guess I could move in early now, but…” You paused, the weight of the situation hitting you. You had known all along what was happening, and yet, it had never quite hit you like it did now.

“But, what? Don’t tell me you're getting second thoughts about it all again, because if you are, I will drive over to your place right now and drag your ass out of there whether you want me to or not.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” At least you didn’t think it was. You wanted to leave, you did, but why did it suddenly scare you so much? “And I’m not even there right now, so your drive would be wasted.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still unpacking, are you?” You could hear the pity in Felix’s voice, fully aware he still felt terrible for having to bail on you earlier in the day.

“Oh, no. I got some help from Mingi and Jongho and we finished up hours ago.” You quickly waved his concern away. “It’s just that I got invited to dinner and lost track of time.”

“Dinner?” You didn’t have to see Felix to know what expression had crossed his face, and you did your best to hide your blush regardless of the fact you couldn’t see each other.

“No, it’s not like that at all. I guess Wooyoung hosts dinners occasionally, so I just got roped into going as well.” Your body shifted, growing uncomfortable by the inclination his voice had held and lowering your voice. “There’s absolutely nothing going on and they’re just being friendly, Lix. Just friends hanging out with friends, nothing more.”

“Well, at least for now.”

“Oh, come on Felix, it’ll never come to that and you know it.” And despite the teasing tone his voice had taken, you could feel yourself beginning to sink into yourself, realizing how stupid it would be to ever think otherwise. “I don’t doubt that most of them are already in a relationship, and even if they’re not, they wouldn’t be interested in me. I mean, why the hell would they?”

“Well, if you ask me, they’d be dumb not to be.” Felix’s voice softened. “I mean, if I swung that way, I’d snag you right up before anyone else could have a chance to steal you. You’re the ultimate package, n/n. You’re sweet, kind, smart-”

“You’re only saying that because you’re required to as my best friend.”

And he had to be, didn’t he? After all, how could you believe something like that when everything in life had told you otherwise? The only person to ever express an interest in you before had swiftly shown you weren’t worth it and continued to tell you so for years. He had proved that there was something wrong with you, because otherwise, he would have cared enough about you to not break you completely.

“I know it might be hard to believe it at times, but you are worth it, y/n, truly. And one of these days you’ll finally meet someone who will help to teach you that, but for now, you’ll just have to take it from me. And I promise you, I’m not saying any of this because I’m required to, but rather because I believe it.”

“Oh, Felix.” You wiped your eyes, brushing away the tears that had fallen and biting back the apology that fell at the tip of your tongue. You had had this conversation or similar ones enough in the past to know Felix would only immediately refute it, saying there was absolutely no need to apologize. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” You repeated the words you had said to him so often, truly wondering why he had ever decided to become your friend with all the baggage that came with you. In all the time you had known him, he had been a bright light in your life and a steady force that had gotten you through some of the roughest times in your life.

You talked for a minute longer to help lift your spirits back up, confirming with Felix that you were in a fit state to drive and would head back to your boyfriend’s place for the night and start packing up so that you were ready and gone before he came home tomorrow night. You strayed in the hallway for a bit longer once the call was over, attempting to get your emotions under control once more and prayed that your eyes weren’t red from crying.

Taking one last breath and doing your best to compose yourself, you made your way back into Wooyoung’s apartment to thank him, Mingi, and Jongho one last time before heading back for the night.

“Everything alright?” Hongjoong was the first to address you at your return, but you shook off his concern as best you could, fully hoping the smile you wore met your eyes.

“Yeah, it was just some stuff that came up with work.” Your hands fiddled with the end of your jacket’s sleeves, shuffling awkwardly at the eyes that watched you. “Apparently my manager found someone to take the rest of my shifts for the week and was just letting me know.”

“So, you’re now done?” Mingi asked, turning from his conversation at the table with Yunho to address you.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll still need to drop a few things off sometime this week, but I’ll probably do that sometime tomorrow after I’m done packing.” You paused for a moment before continuing, hoping you wouldn’t make things awkward by leaving directly after the phone call. “Which I have quite a bit to do now in a short amount of time, so I should probably go ahead and leave for the night-”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, stopping you from heading back to the door when he took hold of your wrist. “You did have quite a bit of wine earlier, and I don’t think it would be safe for you to drive.”

“What are you talking…?” Your head tilted, confused as to what he was talking about. You hadn’t drank anything tonight because you had known you would be driving back home. You had made sure of it.

And yet, now that you thought about it, you weren’t so sure. You didn’t think you had drank anything, but then why was there an empty wine glass next to your plate alongside the faintest memories beginning to pop up of you drinking it. Hadn’t Wooyoung offered you a glass before dinner had begun, and you had accepted thinking it would be fine if you drank it early enough?

God, how could you have forgotten you had been drinking? Were you really that drunk that you had completely forgotten what you had been doing? And how could you, when you could so clearly feel the effects of the alcohol in your system now, leaving you unsteady on your feet. What had you been thinking earlier? You were in no state to be driving. Not when you were now struggling to stand on your own two feet.

“Right, um…” You struggled to get your thoughts together, suddenly aware of how hot it was in there.

“Woah, you okay there, pretty?” It was Yeosang behind you who spoke, grabbing hold of your shoulder to help steady you when you attempted to take your jacket back off, the action leaving you stumbling forward.

He, alongside Hongjoong, who still had a hold on your wrist, used their grip on you to guide you back down to your seat, leaving your vision racing momentarily. When your eyes managed to focus once more, you saw Hongjoong leaning over you, his close presence doing little to calm your racing thoughts, and only serving to scramble them more than ever. And as you looked up into his eyes, all your mind could focus on was how breathtakingly beautiful he was alongside the deep yearning to feel his lips pressed against your own.

“Why don’t I take you back to your room?” His hand brushed the hair out of your eyes, expression painstakingly sweet. “And then maybe we can go over and help you pack the rest of your stuff in the morning when you’re in a better mindset, yeah?”

You didn’t hear exactly what he had said, your brain too scrambled to comprehend what exactly was going on, but you nodded your head in agreement anyways, ready and more than willing to do whatever it was he asked of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglists in reblogs :)

#ateez #ateez x reader #vampire ateez #ateez fanfic #ot8 x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yandere ateez

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luvistqrzzz · 7 months

Text

TRIVIA : LOVE — enhypen hyung line oneshot series

Finding love is not easy they say but what happens when you fall for someone at the most unexpected time in an unexpected way? — whisper a small oops and continue to fall further into the loophole of love.

aka the chronicles of a hopeless romantic soul

PAIRING && GENRE — hyung line x f!reader, can be read as stand alone oneshots, crack, ansgt, fluff, happy ending, more tba in individual fics

TAGLIST — open send an ask or comment to be added (you will be tagged for all the 4 fics) — @flwrshee @aosbie @rsmura @enhastolemyheart @yannew @sophiko22 @www-jungwon @nwjws @in-somnias-world @zzinyl @mrchweeee @ghostiiess @ilovecheese09

PERMANENT TAGLIST — @rikizm @str0l0gy @yenqa @heetoldme @crxzs @s00buwu @nhularin @bunreis @hysgf @mochamvgz @myonos — will be added in all parts

STATUS — to be released !!

AN — TYSM FLO @dollikis FOR THE MAIN BANNER ISTG SHE'S SUCH A GENIUS 🫶🏼🥹 I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF IT ILYSM FLO my banners for the rest of the fic look like shit 😻🤞🏼 i feel the general summary is so cringe ( if someone comes up w a better one then pls help 😭) ALSO the fics in the series are based on rom com books tbh ive been planning and editing the masterlist for the past two weeks ahaha so idk how to feel about it... technically im still on my writing hiatus but ill try to start working on the fics after exams,,, hope yall look forward to it hehe ^_^ !!

"It was like I was trying to memorize him — in case this was the last time I would ever see him." — (failed) STEPS TO NOT MISS YOUR EX

There were a lot of ways your sister's wedding could have gone wrong but none of them included you crossing paths with your ex who happened to be the assistant wedding planner. Alternatively, where you were apparently "over" Lee Heeseung but an (almost) disastrous wedding made you think otherwise.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of save the date by morgan matson — [ read here ]

“Here's the thing about writing Happily Ever Afters: it helps if you believe in them.” — LETTERS TO YOU, ME AND THE BEACH

When a crippling writer’s block and an almost broke bank account forces you to move to an old family home, you didn’t expect to cross paths with your arch nemesis from high school, the ever obnoxious, Park Jay. But maybe the series of events that unfold during the summer could help you with a romantic book or two.

a luvistqrzzz rendition of beach read by emily henry — [ read here ]

“Note to self: Do not under any circumstances fall in love again.” — A 1000 WAYS BACK TO YOU

When Jake realizes he doesn't want to be (only) friends with you anymore, you are already moving halfway around the world and he's left alone on the other side of the line. Will it take two oblivious idiots 10 years and more than a hundred missed chances to see the feelings they've been hiding for long?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of where rainbows end by cecelia ahern — [ read here ]

"Well sure, who doesn't need a boyfriend? But realistically, those exotic creatures are hard to come by. At least a quality one.” — A STRANGER'S GUIDE TO LOVE AND CHRISTMAS

For Sunghoon, Christmas is like any other day, only a hundred times more crowded. But then he stumbles across a notebook at the local bookstore. A notebook full of... dares. As he and the anonymous author spend the entire Christmas eve swapping stories and dreams around the city of Seoul, where will it lead Sunghoon to?

a luvistqrzzz rendition of dash and lily's book of dares by rachel cohn and david levithan — [ read here ]

works belongs to @luvistqrzzz do not copy repost or translate my work

reblogs and feedback are heavily appreciated

networks- @hyfenet @enhanet @en-web @k-films

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7-wonders · 7 months

Text

Apocalypse Now

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XII)

Summary: The end is here, despite your best efforts.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I'm sorry, this is straight angst. Oops?

Mad Love Masterlist

Tuesdays are objectively the worst day of the week. Though Monday is rough, being the first day after the weekend, it can still be spun as a positive—a brand new week, just full of possibilities. Wednesdays, at least, have the “hump day” moniker to give one some hope that the week is half over. Thursdays are alright because that means it’s almost Friday, and Fridays are what it must be like to take every party drug at once.

Tuesdays, though? Tuesdays suck. It’s far enough into the week to feel none of the residual weekend happiness, but the upcoming weekend is still very much out of grasp. Tuesday is hopelessness personified, if one is feeling particularly dramatic.

That’s why it’s fitting that the world ends on a Tuesday.

You’re in class, because where else would you be? Luckily, this is your capstone class, which is just a class for seniors who are, predictably, working on their capstones to be able to bounce ideas off of and support each other. Since you and Kate are both seniors (and because you literally signed up for this class at the same time) you have the class together, thankfully—you keep each other sane by being insane together, and nowhere is that more apparent than when the two of you work on your respective theses.

“You think I can get away with calling Kant a cunt if I do it, like, academically?” Kate whispers into your ear from where she’s sitting next to you. She keeps her eyes on her laptop screen the entire time, making you choke back a laugh at her easy nonchalance.

“Not by using those exact words, but yeah, as long as you cite your sources.” You run the same drill as Kate, refusing to look away and draw suspicion as you both snicker quietly to yourselves. “Do you wanna grab coffee and pretend to keep working after class?”

“God, yes. Then I can tell you about what went down at last night’s Greek Life exec meeting.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “It came out that three of the Chi O sisters are dating each other.”

(With hindsight on your side, you’ll look back on this day and think with bitter regret about how utterly, perfectly normal the day the world ended was. The gossiping conversations, the plans being made, the going about your day with all the confidence that you’ll see tomorrow.

You miss that innocence.)

You gasp under your breath at this exciting tidbit. “No way! How did they–”

You’re cut off by the alarm on someone’s phone blaring. No, multiple phones are blaring out an emergency alarm, and those that aren’t are vibrating, yours included. People dig their phones out of pockets and backpacks, and you pick yours up from where it sits on the table next to your computer and flip it around so that you can see the screen.

You wish you didn’t.

“BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND. SEEK SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” the alert on your phone reads.

You look up at Kate as your classmates begin to mutter around you in a mix of nervous laughter and disbelief, only to see the same shock and confusion on her face that must surely be reflected in yours.

“Do you think this is real?” you ask, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat at the implications of such a message.

“It can’t be. It’s–it’s like that time in Hawaii, remember? We’ll get an alert in a few minutes saying that it was all a mistake,” she assures you, always so calm and rational about everything.

You nod and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Kate is right, you tell yourself. Somebody accidentally hit a button at a command center when they were trying to conduct a test, and now everybody’s freaking out as a result. They’ve probably already caught the mistake and are preparing to do damage control. The employee will lose their job, unfortunately, but that’s to be expected when accidentally causing mass panic. All in all, this will make a fun story in a couple of years: the time you thought you were about to be caught up in nuclear warfare.

Screaming draws your attention to the large windows to the right of you, and you and others cross the room to see what the commotion is. Outside, people of all ages are running in various directions across campus for—well, for their lives. The way everyone hurries reminds you of watching an ant farm. Someone trips and goes sprawling to their hands and knees, only to have to roll to the grass to prevent almost being trampled. Their belongings, having fallen from their grasp, are kicked and scattered without any care.

The panic from outside leaches through the wall and begins to spread through the classroom like a fast-moving disease. Warning sirens, which you didn’t know were still in operation after the Cold War, begin to wail. Some classmates start trying to reach friends or loved ones on their phones, while others just make a break for the door. At the front of the room, your professor sits, paralyzed, with tears running down his face while he scrolls his social media and tries to find anything to confirm that this is all just a terrible misstep.

Your stomach drops like you’re lurching down from the top of a very tall roller coaster, and you look back at Kate. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” she asks. You just shake your head, throwing everything into your backpack and zipping it up before grabbing Kate’s hand. You don’t know where it is you need to go, only that you can’t stay here. Taking one last look back at the classroom to make sure you have everything, you and Kate join the flow of people heading down the stairs to try and escape.

Hand in hand so as not to get separated in the crowd, you both run through the campus green. It’s a perfect late-autumn day, really. The sun is high in the blue, cloudless sky and the temperature is warm, but with a bit of a chill from the wind. It’s the type of weather that makes you want to spend all day outside so as not to waste it. The juxtaposition, between the pleasant weather and the chaotic, frightened atmosphere, is not lost on you.

“Wait,” Kate raises her voice to be heard over the panicked din, “we need a plan.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything beyond how scared you are. “Uh…we’ll get in my car, okay? I filled up on gas this morning. And–and we’ll drive as fast as we can, to get as far away as we can before the blast happens. I think we can get out of the major blast zone.”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”

She nods at you, and you nod back, both trying to reassure the other. The parking lot appears as you round a corner, and you tear your backpack around to your front so that you can find your keys.

“Wait!” Kate says again. “What about Brennan? And Michael?”

Hearing Michael’s name sends alarm bells flaring in the back of your mind. There’s something about him and this nightmare that are connected, but the primal parts of your brain, the one telling you that flight is the best option for survival right now, is too active for you to have any sort of introspection in this moment.

“Call them,” you answer without hesitation, “we can pick them up on the way out of town.”

Kate grabs her phone, finding Brennan’s number and hitting ‘call’ before holding the device up to her ear. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she mutters, listening closely. “Fuck! I can’t get through.”

“Keep trying. One has to go through eventually. And if they don’t, we at least know where they both are.”

“Do you really think this is going to work? That we’re going to survive?” Kate asks, dialing Brennan once more.

The truth is that you don’t know. You hope it does, that you can at least give yourself a fighting chance to not immediately die when the missiles hit. But there’s just as big a chance that you can’t make it out, that you will die. That’s terrifying, and it makes your throat tighten from terror. The only thing that keeps you from outright freaking out is that, if you do die, at least you’ll have Kate right there next to you.

“I don’t know. But I can promise you that we’re going to try our hardest to survive,” you say.

You can see your car now, only a couple of rows away. Maybe you will actually make it. Maybe this plan will work, and the four of you will end up riding out the end of the world together. Maybe survival can happen; you’re all pretty resourceful, and if you can at least get past the blasts, you can—

An armored vehicle screeches to a halt in front of you, sending you and Kate rearing back as your path is cut off. Two figures dressed in black suits hop out and begin to walk towards you with a purpose. Behind them, military personnel also exit the vehicle. Immediately, your worst fears are confirmed, and you know what this must be. Trying to avoid the inevitable, you begin taking hurried steps back.

One of the men in black says your name. “You need to come with us,” he commands.

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere with you!” You try to run to your left, hoping to catch them off-guard and make a break for it, but the other man in black stands in front of you.

“I’m afraid we can’t accept that,” he says, motioning for the military personnel.

Two of them approach you, their rifles belted to their fronts and serving as a menacing reminder that you have no power here. They each grab one arm and begin to drag you towards the vehicle, paying no mind to you as you start screaming and trying to fight your way out of their grasps. You hold desperately onto Kate’s hand for as long as you can, but it’s only a matter of time before you lose your hold.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” you hear Kate yell behind you.

“Kate! Kate!” you shriek, high and piercing and terrified.

You look over your shoulder to see two other soldiers blocking her from reaching you. You’re both sobbing, but there’s nothing either of you can do about it. You’re unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of the armored vehicle, the door slamming shut before you can even think to move. Up front, the driver throws it into gear and peals away from the parking lot. When you scramble to your knees, you’re forced to watch as Kate’s figure rapidly grows smaller and smaller.

“Please go back! You have to take Kate, too! Please!” you beg.

“Shut up!” One of the men shoves you down into your seat, and when you try to get up, he backhands you across the face.

“Hey, be careful with her!” another warns. “You remember what they said. No harm is to come to the boss’s wife.”

The pain of the slap has you reeling, but it also serves to clear your mind enough that the reality of what was just said begins to sink in. You’re apparently the boss’s wife, which means one thing and one thing only.

He’s done it, then? This is all the doing of one Michael Langdon, who for so long swore to you that the world would not end for years, that you would be well aware of when and if his plans were going to be realized? You don’t want to believe it, but, unfortunately, it’s the reality that you seem to be faced with. In response, your tears dry up, and you sit silently and stoically for the rest of the ride.

It’s not a very long journey to wherever you’re being taken to, maybe fifteen minutes or so before the truck is driven into a garage. You look out the back window again to see the garage door closing behind you, the rectangle of light growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappears. Deep down, you know that this was probably your last time seeing the sunlight. You don’t know whether watching it will make you feel better or worse.

The soldiers drag you out of the car just as they dragged you in, marching you through what looks like an underground parking garage towards an elevator and forcing you to stand between them as the men in black join your little group. One of them reaches out a hand, gloved in black leather, so they can stab at the control panel. Even though they press the topmost button, the elevator begins to move down.

The silence begins to stretch on, and you shift uncomfortably. “Is my—” your voice breaks, and you clear your throat. “Is Michael here?”

Predictably, they ignore you, staring straight ahead at their distorted reflections in the chrome doors.

When the doors do finally ding open, they reveal what looks like the living room of an apartment. The walls are bare, but there are all the normal furnishings that one would expect to find: a couch, a TV, a coffee table. There are no windows, you note, the only light available emitting harshly from the fixtures up above. You’re sat down on the couch, and you glare petulantly at your kidnappers.

“Where are we?” you demand. “I deserve answers.”

“You’ll be safe here,” one of them says instead of answering your question.

Single-file, they move back into the elevator, presumably to return to the surface. As the doors shut once more, you hold eye contact with the soldier that hit you.

He looks at you in fear, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

The elevator whirs back to life as it begins its travels up, and the sound serves to jolt you out of your stunned state and remind you that you have free will. You jump up from the couch and run to the elevator, hoping for a way out. There’s no call panel on the wall next to it, meaning that the only way it can be accessed is from the inside. Effectively, you’re trapped.

Panic returns in full-force at this revelation, and you frantically start trying to get your fingers into the seam of the door. Maybe if you pull hard enough, you’ll be able to pry them open? You’re not sure what you’ll do after that, but at least then you’ll have options.

Just as you’re starting to delude yourself that you think you can feel a gap widening under your grip, an explosion rocks the world above you. It’s loud, louder than you thought possible for how far below ground you must be, and you scream as you fall to the floor. The shock of the blast reverberates all the way down to what must be the Earth’s core, causing the room to shake around you. The lights flicker and go out before being replaced by an eerie red glow, and an alarm starts to methodically sound.

A sob rips from you, your heart knowing what’s just happened before your brain can come to the same conclusion. A nuclear weapon, dropped right over your head. Death and destruction wreaking havoc on the world in a matter of seconds. Mere circumstance saving you, while those you love are left to perish.

Against your will, you’re forced to imagine the scenarios. Kate was probably still outside, nowhere near any sort of safety. Brennan must have been so worried, trying just as desperately until his last moments to try and reach Kate. Mallory, you know, would have been more worried for her students, for her girls, than herself. Your parents…fuck. You didn’t even get to tell your parents you love them. The grief is overwhelming, and threatens to swallow you whole.

A hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your face up from where it’s been hanging in despair. Through tears, you see a figure with blue eyes and golden hair crouched in front of you. Their thumb gently presses on your lip, and you inhale sharply at the pain, the source of which must have been the slap.

“Who did this to you? Was it one of the personnel who brought you here?” he asks, fury in his tone.

“Michael,” you cry out, letting him collect you in his embrace. He’s so comforting, so familiar, that you can forget for a moment that he’s the source of your current agony.

“Oh my love, it’s alright. We’re both safe,” he soothes, rubbing a hand on your back as you sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t warn you beforehand, but these plans were extremely confidential.”

That reminds you who it is you’re crying on, and you pull yourself up off of his shoulder. Michael’s looking down at you with all the love in the world in his eyes and frowning just slightly in sympathy for your plight.

Rage, hot and incandescent, floods through your veins.

“You did this, then?” you ask.

He smiles proudly. “As I was born to do.”

“And…everybody’s dead?” Your voice comes out strangled, though you try your hardest to school your emotions.

“Not everybody. Those that managed to earn a spot in an Outpost are all alive and well. There will be a good number of people who were far enough away from blast zones to have survived the initial blast. The fallout will take care of them within a couple years, though.” He shakes his head in pity. “Nasty thing, nuclear fallout. If exposed for even a few minutes, cancer and sores can easily develop. Mutations as well.”

That sounds horrifying. However morbid it may be, for the sake of those you love, you hope that the blasts killed them.

The look on your face must match how you’re feeling, because Michael quickly takes your hands in his. “I know, it sounds terrible. But their deaths were necessary! They fulfill a purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“To cleanse the world and remake it in my father’s image, for you and I to rule as we see fit.”

A wave of nausea takes over you, and you have to close your eyes and breathe deeply to keep from becoming sick. You stand, backing away from Michael as quickly as you can. He tries to follow, but you hold your hands out in front of you to stop him from coming any closer.

“You bastard,” you whisper.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

You look up at him, fire in your eyes. “You. Bastard.”

“You don’t really mean that.” You can’t tell if he’s in disbelief or if he’s challenging you to repeat that.

“Yes, I do. You killed them! You killed all of them, for no good reason—”

“You know the reason!” he yells, grabbing onto your upper arms and pulling you to him. Though you try to fight your way out of his grasp, your resistance is futile. “I am doing this for us,” he hisses. “So that we can have the future we’ve dreamed about, the future that we’ve earned with our hard work.”

“This is not the future I dreamed about.” You shove him away, making him glare at you as though you’re his enemy.

Your Michael, the one that you know and love, is nowhere to be seen. Gone is the Michael that would tell you everything. The Michael that researched grad schools as though he was the one that would be attending, the Michael that took a body shot off of you, the Michael that lit up the first time that he saw fireflies, the Michael that loved Valentine’s Day because it meant that he got to shower you in love and there was nothing you could do about it.

Now, there’s a man wearing your husband’s face, who stands before you unrepentant and assured in his actions. This stranger has been completely and utterly corrupted by his father, and in such a short amount of time. As it turns out, all of your hard work only served to send him quicker into the throes of darkness.

“I don’t know who you are anymore,” you say, tears welling in your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

“This is who I have always been,” he proclaims proudly. “You just haven’t wanted to see it.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” Amidst all of the uncertainty that you’re currently faced with, through all of the horror you’ve been forced to endure in one day, this is what you can be certain of.

Michael smiles patronizingly, as though you’re a mere child who insists that the bogeyman is real and he’s the adult that knows better. “You’ll come to your senses. Just give it some time.”

He grabs your hand against your will, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it.

“Soon, our reign begins.”

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike333 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray

(I really don't know why I still do a tag list. Habit, I suppose.)

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #ahs #michael langdon imagines #mad love musings

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greypetrel · 2 days

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WIP Wednesday Thursday

Tagged by @salsedinepicta and @hollytree33, thank you very much! <3 It's the next day, but Glaze didn't want me to post yesterday apparently. And yes I toggled all the options but "to trust is good, not to trust is better".

Some expression chart of Aisling, this time in Whale AU shores. Top right one is my favourite, and it isn't really her if she's not crying in at least three ones.

Going on with the symbolism one, I'm kinda stuck over the object for Miss Trash Raccoon. I'd put a trashcan but I already painted one in the chart.

A collage from my sketchbook: I was in the dukedom of Prosciutto last week for some work, and I scribbled something. Always Whale AU themed. I am very upsed there's so few paintings themed around the Orlando Furioso, I referenced the possibly one I found. Raina in this iteration has more themes taken from that poem (lost her wisdom upon the moon). Some smooching as I listened to Hozier's I, Carrion (Icarian), which quickly became their love theme. And some random storyboards which I don't know if I'll keep. I found a piece of lore which gave me an idea for some comic pages to start... but it was in a book whose authors wrote for a broadcast notorious for featuring conspiracies and being very historically inaccurate. Think history channel, but worse. (Sì sto parlando di Mistero.)(I bought some books in a rush and didn't check the authors in the store). It needs to be double checked: I haven't found anything on the internet, but I have other books on lore from Alghero on which I hope to find a confirmation. Meanwhile, it's there.

Oh wow it's another wall of text! :"D Sorry, oops.

Tagging! @shivunin @ndostairlyrium @underneathestars @pinayelf @blarrghe @dreadfutures @inquisimer @dungeons-and-dragon-age @daggerbean and YOU!

#wip wednesday #whale au #raina hawke #aisling lavellan #character design #greypetrel #is linking hozier a low hit? yes and no - in both cases here you go take a handkerchief and some chocolate #I bought more than one dubious books on that first bookstore incursion #BUT- I couldn't stay there long to check if I wanted to catch the second store open #it's a second hand book store and I LOVE IT it always has the best things

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idontknowreallywhy · 7 months

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A particularly lovely chord progression somehow ended up with me driving a wedge between Earth and Sky and I promised I’d try to fix it.

Super long car journey today presented an opportunity but events got away from me and I accidentally made it worse. Oops… um… I’m sorry? Apologies to @ajpendragon @alexthefly @astranite @janetm74 @sofasurf and anyone else who asked for a fix and will remain disappointed for now…

Piano Angst - the aftermath

It had been nearly a week and Scott felt like he was missing a limb.

Virgil was definitely avoiding him.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen each other - they’d worked together perfectly normally on several rescues. They’d both joined in the usual banter over mealtimes. There had even been a family film night - albeit, instead of joining Scott on their usual couch, Virgil had squeezed in with the Tinies and spent the evening competing with Gordon as to who could wind up Alan the most about his movie choice.

But they’d not been alone in the same room. At least, not for more than the few seconds it took for Virgil to make some excuse and leave it.

He’d even apparently conscripted Gordon into constantly keeping him company whilst he did maintenance on Two. Despite all Scott’s loitering around the hangar, the Fish never seemed to get the hint to make himself scarce. Except that one time when Scott had hinted at the availability of leftover pizza in the kitchen but then Virgil had raced off hot on Gordon’s heels. Which would not have been of any note whatsoever if it hadn’t been for that momentary flash of panic Scott was sure had crossed Virgil’s face as Gordon jumped to his feet.

It wasn’t just the lost chance to really TALK to his brother either. There was a physical distance too which was almost more painful. It turned out that Virgil’s elbow nudges at dinner, his arm across Scott’s shoulders as they walked across the lounge, his habit of stretching out and throwing his feet over big brother’s legs when they had a moment to chill together on the couch… these felt as natural and as essential to Scott as eating or drinking and he missed it more than he could have explained. It made his jaw hurt.

He had figured he just had to give Virgil time and be available when he was ready. So he’d made a conscious effort to *not* be working whenever they had downtime, hovering in the communal areas and looking un-busy. He rushed through the paperwork later, once everyone was in bed and then stayed up for hours each night studying the last couple of month’s worth of mission logs and recordings, desperately trying to work out what had triggered… whatever it was… the other day.

He’d been lying, Scott was certain of that. Ironically that certainty had made him very uncertain of everything else - Virgil never lied to him. He was awful at it. Honesty usually shone out of his big puppy-like brown eyes. When he was withholding something they were clouded with guilt.

But to invoke their mother’s memory as a cover-up?

It must have been serious.

His research efforts turned up nothing at all out of the ordinary other than it had actually been a pretty successful run of rescues, a bit of a reprieve from the average. He couldn’t find any aspect of the scenarios they’d faced that seemed like it might have particularly upset his brother.

It had to have something to do with him. Virgil was acting perfectly normally with everyone else. He re-listened to every interaction they’d had over the comm. Had he been too brusque in directing the rescues recently? Was his tone wrong? He didn’t think he sounded any different although after a while his own voice really began to grate on him. Virgil’s responses seemed normal and he didn’t appear to react to anything in a negative way. Perhaps his brother was maybe a little quieter on the comm than usual… should he have noticed that sooner?

Or had he embarrassed him by making it clear he’d noticed him getting carried away that afternoon? But Virgil had never seemed to be worried about Scott witnessing his piano binges before - most of the worst more-recovery-than-rescue missions had been thrashed out on the piano over the years… No. The only way to find out was to ask him directly.

He hovered at the door of the hangar, took a couple of breaths to slow his galloping heart rate and pushed it ajar. He could hear Gordon talking at a mile a minute about something to do with aquaculture and Virgil was leaning up against a pod module with a politely interested look on his face. His eyes flicked briefly over to his eldest brother but didn’t linger, instead focussing firmly back on little brother with renewed focus.

Scott felt rather like he’d taken a grapple to the chest and backed out, closing the door softly behind him. He ignored the elevator and elected for the long slow trudge up the stairwell. By the time he made it to the lounge his vision was blurry and he had reached the limit of what he could bear. He found a sheet of notepaper from the desk drawer and scribbled a note. He folded it precisely in half, opened it again and checked it, then refolded it, running a shaking thumb among the edge. He tucked it underneath the door to his brother’s bedroom on the way to his own.

Virgil, I’ve upset you and I can’t for the life of me work out when or how it was in order to apologise properly - but please know I am so sorry.

I’ll be on my balcony the rest of the evening if you want to talk.

I miss you. S x

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #thunderfam #thunder angst #angst #earth and sky #earth&sky #piano angst #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #music is everything #scott tracy needs a hug

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bomberqueen17 · 8 months

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oops

lol yet again i missed doing my friday update schedule. in my defense, a lot's been going on. before I say anything else I should also say-- DMs on Tumblr currently do not work for me, the message thing shows me the preview but if I click on it, I absolutely cannot open the window, it will hang for literal days. I have the square blank in the corner of this tab as I am composing and no longer remember what I was trying to get it to open. So if you send me an IM on Tumblr I will only be able to read whatever of it is in the preview! So don't be offended if I never respond, because I can't write back because the window literally never opens. I got one to open yesterday but it was about 45 minutes and a lot of window reloading. I think it's safe to say that feature's just gotta be dead to me. RIP.

Anyway what's been up! my BFF from high school came thru Thursday night with her kids to stay in my cabin and i was a bit frantic getting the place ready, as it's not exactly listed on AirBnB. (She was like "oh wow this is a lot bigger and nicer than i thought" girl you were going to cram your children and yourself into a tiny half-finished shack with me? what??? jeez) and at the last minute Dude was like "oh i'm coming too" which, fortunately, I had put myself into a full-size bed on the pull-out couch so there was room for him to be there too but if this were any smaller a tiny house that would not have been possible. see, this is why i didn't actually build a tiny tiny house, it wouldn't have worked.

Anyway they left friday and i spent the day making sausage as fast as i could, and then in the afternoon dude helped me package it and then! i had! two full days! off! (ok i'm in the second of those days rn) so

saturday being My Birthday I made a snap decision that we were going to go see some art, so we drove over to the Clark Institute in Williamsburg MA (like a long half-hour away, it's not far) and saw some of my good buddies in the permanent collection.

(Mom used to take us kids there when we were little, and there are a lot of Renoirs and John Singer Sargent and some Frederic Rembrandt and Winslow Homer and whatnot, many of which I have seen so often as to consider old friends. (This Bougereau, Mom had a poster of on her bedroom wall, and I have always loved it. Apparently, my grandpa upon seeing it-- not the letters grandpa, the other one-- exclaimed of the one whose back faces the viewer "Oh Betty, it's you!" Betty being my grandma.)

I discovered quite by accident, while fucking around on my phone, that there was a Pokestop out in the courtyard, and the Pokestop was titled something about Jenny Holtzer, and i was like wait what and sure enough. There's a set of four white granite benches out there with Jenny Holtzer engravings on them.

This one is fucking brutal, as her shit tends to be:

[image description: a white granite bench engraved with the following text, somewhat darkened by pooled rainwater: "BY YOUR REPONSE TO DANGER IT IS EASY TO TELL HOW YOU HAVE LIVED AND WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO YOU YOU SHOW WHETHER YOU WANT TO STAY ALIVE, WHETHER YOU THINK YOU DESERVE TO, AND WHETHER YOU BELIEVE IT'S ANY GOOD TO ACT."]

There was also a temporary exhibition of paintings and woodcuts/lithographs/prints by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch, yes including a lithograph of That Painting. Fairly stunning! Running thru October, I recommend it if you're in the area!

ok idk what else has been happening. i am so tired. i might play some pokey mans today but i also might just. not. really. do much of anything. which is boring and dumb and won't make me feel better next week when i have to go back and do more work and have achieved none of my personal goals. but sometimes brain no worky, and that's that.

#about the author

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chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter · 5 months

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Red Snow (KakuIza oneshot)

Wow, I can't believe I finally finished this!

This was actually sitting on my drafts for half a year. The idea came at me when I started wondering what if some characters start to slowly remember other timelines? And bam, KakuIza appeared to me. Tragic as always, but asking with puppy eyes if I could give them happiness (or show it, since technically the canon already did this). I had it all wrote except the last scene because apparently the angst comes easily at me (no surprises here, oops)

But Tenjiku being animated and knowing what we'll see in a few week... Yeah, I needed to end this and fix that mess.

(link to ao3 in case some one preferes to read it there)

Summary: Maybe the snow was the last tribute from heaven to this king who died too young trying to protect his servant. After that day, every time it snows, Kakucho couldn't do anything but look at the snow, the bloody red snow that seemed to be everywhere. Now, the red is gone. Izana is there. The snow makes Kakucho happy again.

Warnings: Manga Spoilers. Angst with happy ending (with a lot of angst before the happiness) and depressed Kakucho (who could blame him?)

Notes: This is canon compilant, from Kakucho's POV (so keep in mind that any opinion on another character is Kakucho's, not mine, I love them all). The italic parts are Kakucho's memories, I hope it makes sense how I organized, since it's not chronologically, it only makes sense emotionally. If saying this makes sense at all.

English is not my first language, so be nice please! :)

Kakucho has been wanting to see that smile for so long that he can't even remember when he started to miss it. Or maybe it's the excruciating pain in his shoulder, which doesn't allow him to remember properly. All that he knows is that suddenly it's here, a real smile on Izana's face, lighting everything up. He can't stop looking, even if some part of his brain detects all the chaos and screams around them, Kakucho only has eyes for him, for his king and this smile that it's making the world shine again for a few seconds.

He thinks his yelling, but he's unable to focus in anything other than Izana bleeding next to him, correcting his servant once more “Our era”. The king keeps talking to Mikey, but Kakucho doesn't know what he's saying anymore, the last words still hitting his brain, his ears, his whole body. “I'm sorry Kakucho, but you're all that I have”.

As Izana's hand begins to get colder his servant is still caught up in those words “All that I have”. So Kakucho close his eyes, more than willing to follow his king one last time. He's not going to left him alone, not now, not ever. The last coherent thoughts that cross his mind is that this is his fault, for wishing too much, wanting too much. He never would have wished to see Izana's real smile again if he had known the price.

He's still able to see the snow before everything goes dark (or feel, he's not sure of his own senses any more). It's ironic,they used to love the snow, now it seems like the universe is mocking on them. Or maybe it's not, maybe the snow is the last tribute from heaven to this king who died too young trying to protect his servant.

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Kakucho wakes up in the hospital. The doctors say that he's going to recover, like that's good news. They are not, not for him. He survived, again. Nothing makes sense, he doesn't feel alive, so... How is it possible? He wants to die, he doesn't understand, his live is meaningless, just a servant. Kakucho hates himself for surviving, he should have died protecting his king, not the other way around.

None of this matters, his feelings are not important, he can't go back to being selfish, getting caught up in his own desires. He knows that he has to keep living, Izana died for him to live. 'Why? Why Izana? Why you never show how important I was to you when we still had time? Why did you leave me? Why am I the only one stuck with our regrets? Why?'

He needs to stop thinking, there is no point in doing so. Izana exchanged his own life for Kakucho's, so he knows he has to keep living. Even tough he is already dead.

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Every time it snows, is the same. It doesn't matter if Izana is already in middle school, as soon as he sees the first flakes he starts running looking for Kakucho, ready to drag him under the snow again. It's a miracle how he's able to contain all this excitement until he finds his friend (his servant) when he's actually jumping trough the corridors.

Of course, Kakucho follows him, pretending to complain about the cold. He doesn't pretend too hard, it's not like he's even trying to hide his smile. Or like the cold matters, when Izana is still taking his hand while they keep running until being outside.

Kakucho didn't care about the snow before, now he loves it. Or maybe he loves how the older boy's face seems to glow when he smiles at it. He knows that Izana isn't exactly the happiest kid around, so he treasures every second when he can have his friend acting like this, without masks or titles between them. Just two friends playing in the snow.

They always play outside for hours, never bothered by the rest of the kids, probably too busy hiding inside the building from the cold. Kakucho thinks they are idiots, they don't know anything. For him, the snow is a reminder of that warm feeling inside him, that thing he felt the first time they played like this. It was almost freezing inside their igloo, but all the ice went away when Izana said those words “Our kingdom”. The younger kid doesn't understand why, he only knows that for a second he felt like the most important person on the entire planet ( besides Izana, of course ), the previous cold forgotten and replaced by warmth within his chest.

Suddenly, a snowball kicks him and he realizes that Izana has already started the fight. He was lost in his own thoughts, so obviously Izana is cheating. Again. He sighs and starts making his own ammunition. 'Some things never change, right?'

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The world lost his color that day. Now everything looks gray, like if someone repainted it with a monochrome palette during the time that Kakucho was in the hospital. The apartment is worse, because he can still see where the colors are supposed to be, like a shadow from the past. He can still see the guitar by the window, where Izana used to play it. The tropical fish, now his only roommate.

It's a really small apartment, the only one that Izana could afford at that time, when he came back to the orphanage just for rescue him ( actually it was more an scape than a rescue, but they didn't care about that ). When his king went to juvie he promised that he wouldn't forget about Kakucho. And he didn't, because Izana never lied to him. 'He just kept too many things inside, but he never lied, how ironic is that?'

He didn't have time to miss the colors, because one day starts snowing. Kakucho was walking towards the convenience store when the first flakes began to fall. Suddenly he can't breathe, he can't move, he can't think. He can't do anything but look at the snow, the bloody red snow that's everywhere. 'Red. That's not supposed to be red. Why is the snow red? Where does all this blood come from? Fuck, fuck, fuck!'

Kakucho doesn't know how he manage to run until he's safely back home, safe from the memories that come true with every flake of snow. From that day on, he avoids going outside in the snow. So he stays in this apartment full of ghosts, the ghosts of colors, forever gone from his world. The ghost of Izana filling every corner, reminding him that he must keep living.

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Apparently Izana made new friends in juvie. He doesn't know how he feels about it, but it's weird trying to imagine Izana making friends. Until his king explains how he made them. 'Oh, that checks.'

“Why are you doing this face? Are you jealous or what?”

Izana says that with a smirk in his face, his obviously teasing him but for some reason the younger boy still feel that something is off.

“Come on servant, don't be such a pain in the ass, I beat them for you, the least you can do is be grateful, don't you think?”

“For me?”

Kakucho doesn't understand what that is supposed to mean.

“Yeah, you're going to lead our army, remember? I wasn't going to let you lead an army of weaklings.”

And with that, he puts a hand on Kakucho's head, ruffling his hair on the process. An obvious sign that the conversation is over and, once again, his servant will follow him with a smile.

When Kakucho finally meets this new friends, he can only think that they're all idiots. Well, except for Mutto, he likes Mutto because he's calm and quiet, he always knows his place or when it's better to shut up. Shion is the complete opposite, he never knows when to shut up or stop moving. To be honest, Kakucho thinks that Shion probably can't do any of that. Mochi is just another idiot, with less energy than Shion, but the same amount of brains. The Haitani brothers are their own category. 'This two aren't just idiots. They are idiots and weirdos.'

Time passed and Kakucho still thinks the Haitanis are weirdos, but he actually likes having them around. They always show up with some expensive and extravagant gift, as if money is nothing to the rulers of Roppongi. Today they bring some delicious cakes, as always they remembered to buy a portion of Kakucho's favorite. He knows Ran is the one who paid attention to these tinny details, he can't help but act like a big brother.

But the cake is not the reason why Kakucho likes them. It's not the only reason, at least. No, Izana is the real reason. Every time the Haitani brothers are there the white haired boy looks happy. Of course, he doesn't show it, so sometimes he seems amused, entertained or even pissed off as if he's about to lose his already little patience. But Kakucho knows him better, he knows that Izana is happier when the weirdos are here. So before he realizes, the four of them are friends. Well, maybe one king and three friends.

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It's being a few months since the Kanto Incident. He doesn't know how many, because time stopped making any kind of sense for Kakucho since his reason to live disappeared. He didn't realize how much time had past until one day when he hears an annoying knock at his door. A really annoying knock that doesn't go away forcing him to open the damn door.

Of course, when he opens the door, the Haitani brothers are there. He should had know, but he really wasn't aware that they were already out.

“Kakuchooooo, I know you missed me, so stop making that grumpy face and be a good host!”

Ran looks exactly the same, still talks like he's teasing at you with every word. After all that time, he still brings cake, Kakucho's favorite.

“Come one, let us in already, I was about to pick the lock.”

Yeah, that's Rindou's way of showing that he was worried. Still the same weirdos. So obviously, he lets them in.

Before he understands what's going on, he's sitting at the table with one brother at each side of him, eating cake and talking nonsense. And he's smiling, even laughing at times with their most absurd anecdotes. The scene is so familiar, so comfortable, it's almost like nothing has changed. 'Almost.'

Kakucho doesn't know what happened, but suddenly finds himself unable to breath. He tries, he really tries, because he doesn't want to break in front of anyone. But they aren't just anyone, they have cake and comfort words “Breathe, it's ok Kakucho, we know” and “We're here now, you are not alone anymore”.

So he breaks, he let himself cry in front of these weirdos that share his pain, his lost. In front of what's left of his family, what's left of all that happiness that he doesn't even remember how it felt. He doesn't realize that all this time he has been gripping his necklace, the one with a hanafuda image that they know all too well. The one that used to be one of Izana's earrings.

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Kakucho would never know how they knew it. The Haitanis always seem to have a sixth sense or something, because they show up unannounced like they always did. The strange thing is that they seem to know that this time Izana is going to welcome them, without beatings or cruel words. They seem to sense that their king is starting to get better and he can't be more thankful, hoping that maybe this is what Izana needs.

He's not wrong, but he's also not right. Izana isn't quiet there most of the time, but at least he eats, talks and even has a smile sometimes. It's not he's real smile, his eyes don't show any emotions, it still looks unhinged. But even if it's a weird smile, he does it more when the brothers are there, so Kakucho thinks that's good. 'He just needs more time, that's all, this has to be a good sign, right? Yep, one day he will really smile again, I'm sure.'

Kakucho definitely likes having the Haitani brothers around. They are more than friends, they are family.

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Kakucho didn't want to follow South, he only have one king and he will never betray him. He ends up in Rokuhara after that monster beats the shit out of him, but that doesn't mean his loyal to that gang. He put his life ( and his heart ) in the hands of another man a long time ago.

It's actually much easier than he expected, being back in this live, the fights, the adrenaline. Maybe that is all he knows how to do or maybe he doesn't even care anymore, but this makes him feel a little bit more alive than spending day after day hiding in his apartment with only ghosts and a fish for company.

It's different with Mikey and so familiar at the same time that he feels on edge. Every time that he's in a Kanto Manji meeting he has to control himself or he would freak out ( unconsciously grasping his necklace trying to calm down ).

Looking at Mikey gets him deja-vu. Really bad deja-vu, if he has to be honest.

The invincible is falling, Kakucho can see him fall into the darkness, exactly as he saw before. That's what scares him most, that he already learned how this ends. But he can't run away ( even if sometimes that's all that he wants ). Kakucho can't run away because he knows, he doesn't know how he knows, but he knows Izana wouldn't want him to leave Mikey. Or maybe he's just projecting, trying to fix the past by fixing the present.

“You can't save him.”

Of course he has been noticing the look in the older Haitani's face, he's obviously worried, but he didn't expect that. He wasn't prepared for that.

“What?”

“You can't save Mikey, not from himself. Stop it, you need to start thinking about what do you want for a while.”

There is more, things that Ran never says, but Kakucho listens anyway. The unspoken words keep floating around them 'You can't save him, the same way that you couldn't save Izana.'

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At the beginning, Kakucho was happy of seeing Izana taking care of himself again. Starting to be open to people, to life, once more.

Now, he's just worried. Really worried. He realized that Izana's only motor is revenge, that he's getting really obsessed with Mikey. Izana is falling into darkness, a little bit more every day. His smiles are not real, his beautiful purple eyes never catch up with them. He looks deranged, completely unhinged every time that he starts talking about his revenge plans.

Kakucho knows that, but he'll follow him anyway. He'll follow Izana because he just wants to see him happy again and if this revenge is what it takes, he'll follow his king. Izana isn't drinking and sleeping all day anymore, so he hopes that maybe, he just needs time for smiling again. A real smile, like before. If Kakucho have to follow him to hell for being able to see this smile once more, he'll do it happily.

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It's even worst the day that Rindou finally snaps, just before the battle with Toman 2nd Generation. They're alone, just trying to keep themselves entertained with some video game, trying very hard ( and failing ) not to think about tomorrow.

“Who do you think will die?”

It's just a whisper, so he wants to ignore it, pretending that he didn't hear it until he turns around and sees Rindou's face.

“No one, this time no one is going to die.”

He doesn't believe it, of course, not after watching how Mikey almost killed Takemichi of all people. But he's trying to comfort the other, and probably himself.

“You don't believe that, don't fuck with me!”

Then he realizes. Rindou fucking Haitani is panicking right now, he's having a panic attack and Kakucho doesn't know what to do. So he just keeps listening, hoping that helps. He's definitely not prepared for the next words.

“I... I've been having nightmares since that day, you know? What if... What if Ran tries to protect me like Izana did with you? What if... This time Ran... Shit, I can't even say it out loud, I'm fucking pathetic! But how am I supposed to keep living if that happen? How you keep living with that?”

Kakucho really, really doesn't want to answer that, but he's never seen the younger Haitani like this before, he knows he deserves an answer. He also knows that the only one he can give is not going to help.

“You don't.”

---------------------------------------

Kakucho is dying. He knows he is dying, he knows that Sanzu's katana cut is too deep, that there is no way that he could survive this time. He's okay with the idea of his own death, he always thought that the last two years were a cruel and extra time.

But he can't, he can't die yet. Kakucho needs to stop this damn train, he needs to do it or a lot more people is going to die. Not just people, his friends. Shion, Mochi, Takemichi. Not just people, his family. Ran. Rindou. The last survivors of the broken family they had once. The last two people in this whole planet that still remember Izana with affection. Kakucho can't let this happen, he can't let them die without trying until his last breath.

That's when he sees him. Izana.

Izana is here, Kakucho can feel him, he can feel his warm presence by his side once again. He doesn't even have time to think what's happening, when he listens Izana's voice.

“You're still as reckless as ever. Well, that's what makes you, you.”

Izana smiles and puts his hand in top of Kakucho's own hand. He can feel Izana's strength going through his body.

“I'll help you out, Kakucho.”

Just like that, they are able to stop the train. Together, like they always should be. They did it, they saved their family. And now, Kakucho is finally letting go, allowing himself to die. He's not afraid anymore, he's just happy that he could see Izana one last time. He's dying, but he's dying with a warm smile. Kakucho is finally reunited with the love of his live.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho never knew when he started to feel that for Izana. Maybe it was always there, maybe his feelings just changed and grew into something different at the same time that he was growing. But he could pinpoint without any doubt the exact moment when he realized that he was in love with his king.

The day that he saw him “better” again after Shinichiro's death. Izana just cut his hair and wanted to do a big entrance with his new Tenjiku's uniform. He was showing it to Kakucho, his arms opened and allowing him to see the whole view. His earrings dancing with him again every time he moved.

Kakucho knew it. Like and instant revelation, he felt that he just found the missing piece of a puzzle that he didn't even realized he was doing. Kakucho was doomed.

He wanted too much, he couldn't ask that from the older boy, but he still couldn't avoid it. He wouldn't ask, he'll keep following him until the end, just like always. He was sure that be by Izana's side will be enough. At that time, he thought this was the best decision, he still didn't knew that never confessing his feelings to Izana will be his last regret.

---------------------------------------

Kakucho opens his eyes, looking around and feeling completely disoriented. He's laying on a king size bed, the other side showing signs that some one was sleeping here too. He touches his chest, not understanding why there isn't a wound there. A scar, at least. But nothing.

Suddenly, he realizes that his necklace is not there. He's about to panic, thinking that he lost Izana's earring forever. Until he hears it, a soft voice calling his name. The sound of footsteps entering the room.

The scarred boy wants to punch himself, because this can't be. But he recognizes this voice, he would recognizes this particular footsteps anywhere.

“Kakucho? Are you awake or are you going to start acting like Ran and sleep forever?”

Izana enters the room, looking even more ethereal than ever. A smug face and playful tone. But he looks... Older. It's subtle, little details than some one who didn't know him as his servant does, wouldn't notice. But Kakucho does it. His king looks exactly like he kept growing up during the last two years.

“I-Izana? Are you real?”

Is just a whisper, he's too afraid that if he talks, he would break this illusion, this dream. But it's more than enough for Izana's face changes into one of worry, quickly sitting on the bed by Kakucho's side, a gentle hand on his forehead.

“Are you okay? You look sick... I can call Manjiro and tell him we can't go to the lunch this week.”

Izana's voice is so soft, his tone of concern so genuine, his warm hand on Kakucho's face so comforting... That he breaks. He starts crying like a little kid, hugging him, clinging onto him like his life depended on it (it does).

“Kakucho? Kakucho, look at me.”

A gentle touch on his chin forces him to look directly into Izana's eyes. An intense gaze staring directly at him, trying to analyze what the hell is happening. The hand moving softly to wipe his tears. But there's something in those violet eyes, something different. Like they had less walls, as if the usual storm that Kakucho always saw on them was calmer.

So, without even thinking about it, Kakucho just says the words. No more regrets.

"I love you, Izana.”

He whispers, before talking again, this time more firmly.

“I love you. So you can't die, because I love you. You have to promise to me that you'll not die."

Izana stares at him, a puzzled look on his face. 'Well, that's not the worst reaction ever, right?'

"I know that, idiot. We've been dating for almost a year now, you don't need to act so fucking intense about it. What the hell is wrong with you today?”

The words sound blunt, but there's so much affection behind them, that Kakucho just melts with it. Specially, when Izana ruffles his hair. A small gesture that says a lot more.

And that's when he finally gets it. This gesture, all the gentle touches, all the non-verbal things that his king is saying... They aren't new. It was always there. This was always Izana's love language. It was always there. But Kakucho never understood until now, because he never thought he deserved this love.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, Izana.”

He answers, a bright smile on his face. Feeling lighter than ever. Of course, the older boy is not buying it, an interrogation look on his eyes. Kakucho just laughs at this, throwing his head like a little kid, unable to content so much happiness. So much life.

Until he looks through the windows and he sees it. It's starting to snow outside.

“It's snowing.”

Izana's whole expression changes with this words. His face lighting up with excitement. A genuine smile on it.

A real smile. One that makes Kakucho notices that this time, he can actually see the snow. The red is gone. Izana is there, holding his hand and smiling at him. Looking ethereal but at the same time, so real. So tangible. So alive.

The red is gone.

Izana is there.

The snow makes Kakucho happy again.

#me writing🌻#tokyo revengers #izana kurokawa #kakucho #kakuiza #s62 being a found family because i say so #haitani brothers #s62 generation #tokyo revengers fic #oneshot #tokyo revengers spoilers #in my tenjiku depression era #i blame tenjiku for the angst #i made myself cry #i broke my own heart #final timeline #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #canon compatible

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starshine-wagner · 1 year

Text

Reasons to Hope (part one)

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader

Summary: On a walk in the woods, Sam and Rose encounter someone in need of a friend.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, angry boss, toxic boyfriend, cheating, Rose Kiszka

Author's Note: I couldn't stop thinking about Dog Dad Sammy. Oops. I also am impatient so here is part one.

You'd had it. The week's heartache had finally caught up to you, and you needed to just get out. The office could feel so constricting, and the break room was certainly not where you wanted to spend your hour on lunch break. So, you headed for the woods.

You were lucky that your building was right next to a public recreation area. Skyneck Woods had all sorts of walking trails, fields, benches, playgrounds, and paths to enjoy. Here, it was almost as if the stressors of your job, your family, and your broken relationship couldn't reach you. Here, there were no deadlines, no tensions, and no checklists.

You grabbed a snack from your bag and set off onto one of the many trails. The further you went into the woods, the less you could hear the cars on the main road, the kids on the playground, and the static frustration in your head. It was a silent retreat, and for that you were grateful. After the reaming you'd just received from your boss, you needed silence. He'd been patient with you all week, but, when you forgot to place an important order, he had to lay it on you. And so, here you were. Boots in the dirt, heading for God-knows-where.

--*--

After the weekend you had with your long-distance boyfriend, you had admittedly been useless at the office. Apparently, it wasn't good enough for him to plan for a relaxed weekend in. He had insisted on going out when all you wanted to do was spend time on the couch watching Bachelor and eating Chinese. Just like you used to at home. You explained how exhausted you were, how you missed just getting to hold him, but he wasn't having it.

"God. Honestly, Y/N! It's like we never do shit anymore. I don't want to watch your stupid fucking show. And when was the last time we even fucked? Like-"

"Don, please-"

"I only see you every other weekend and it's like every time I do, you wanna play fucking house. I'm tired of spending my hard-earned money and time to drive all the way here just for this," he motioned to the living room, "and some mediocre head."

You weren't sure what compelled him to say such a stinging remark. But you knew exactly why your hand went up to slap him across the face. His hand caught your wrist, though, just before you could make contact and slap some decency into the man who was supposed to love you.

"Nice try. I'm out. If you need me I'll be at O'Leary's. Who knows? Maybe finding myself a lady willing to put out for once," he said as he slammed the door shut, leaving you alone in the apartment.

He'd been becoming more and more of a dick these past few months. Even his name was dick-ish. Donovan. Who the fuck named their kid Donovan? Worse, who thought it would be a good idea to date a guy named Donovan? You, apparently. It wasn't the first time he'd thrown a tantrum over something like this. Once you moved to Nashville while he stayed in St. Louis, things had started to change. He got angrier. Impatient. It was like the boy you fell in love with in college had morphed into someone you didn't know. Long gone were his sweet gestures and gentle caresses. No more were the "good morning" texts and the random flowers.

Not having the energy to cry when he left, you simply fell back onto the couch. You reached for your phone to check the time when you realized Donovan had left his by the pillow next to you. You hadn't meant to even look, but a notification caught your eye. A message.

Katie (8 min ago): You think so, baby? I'd say you were just as good.

Baby? Who the hell was calling him baby? Who was Katie? Oh, now this was something. Just as you were getting ready to helplessly text your best friend, Donovan came crashing through the front door once again.

"Fucking forgot my-"

"Who the fuck is Katie?" you interrupted. You stood up from your spot on the couch and marched over to the door, where he still stood in its frame. The instant look of shock on his face told you everything you needed to know. But he still played the game.

"Katie? Katie who? What are you-"

"Shut the fuck up. Katie." You threw the phone towards him and it clanged onto the vinyl floor. "Hmm?" You crossed your arms and waited, mostly so that you wouldn't ball your fists in his direction.

"Babe I don't know what you're trying to say here. Katie is on my sales team. We-"

"Your sales teammate calls you 'baby' now? That's fucking rich."

"I don't know what you want me to say. I don't even know her that well, like, she- Actually, no. No. I'm not going to explain myself to you. I haven't done whatever you're thinking. And fuck you for doubting me, Y/N." He with a final huff, he shoved the phone pointedly in his pocket, shut the door, and left.

Needless to say, your weekend ended with more screaming matches, a half-assed excuse, a confrontation with this Katie, and a bitter goodbye. Donovan was gone. You were finished. Though you knew it was a long time coming, and probably for the better, it still hurt. It still made you question what you could've done wrong. Why you weren't enough. What Katie had that you didn't.

--*--

With the events of this weekend replaying through your mind, you found a spot to sit some half-mile or so onto the path. Nobody was around, and it was midday, so you figured it was a good a time as any to let the dam welling in your chest break. Criss-crossed on the log, you let your head fall into your hands and wept.

You wept for the old you. The one who dreamed of a life with Donovan. Who imagined 3 little mini-you's running around a fenced-in yard while the two of you held hands.

You wept for the current you. The one who was hurting and betrayed and broken and helpless. Who couldn't seem to catch a break.

And you wept for the future you. The one who you didn't know yet. You prayed she was happy. You wished she was successful, and loved, and cherished. All the things you weren't.

It was a relief to be able to get it out. The pain you'd been holding in all week was too much to carry in silence. So, you didn't hold back. You allowed the sobs to come from deep within your chest, emptying out the caverns of your broken heart into nature. You remained like that until you thought you had no water left in your body to cry out.

Then, a shuffle of leaves caught your attention. You figured it was a squirrel or some critter just pattering around. But soon, the rustles got louder and closer, until finally you saw a dog skipping right towards you. Now, this would have been a welcome surprise if it weren't for the reality that the presence of a dog meant the presence of a human somewhere nearby.

"Rose! Rose Bud Kiszka," someone yelled, feigning severity. "Get back here- I have treats!" you heard a man calling down the path. You stood up to try and start walking away, but she was too quick. The dog had jumped into your lap and you were twisting and bending to keep her from licking right into your face. Her muddy paws were soiling your work pants with dirt and you tried to get her down, but it was no use.

"Rose! Shit. I'm so sorry-" Her owner had finally caught up. "Rose no!"

You managed to pull your face away from her excited sniffs to reply, "No, it's fine! Don't- oh!" Just as you spoke, she licked right into your mouth. Not the worst thing in the world, but definitely a little gross.

He wrangled her back by her harness and attached her to the end of the leash. "I'm so sorry. Seriously. I kinda assumed nobody would be out here so I let her off..."

You finally had a moment to look up at Rose's owner as he rambled on and- oh. He was... yeah. Your brain took a stalled out for a second taking in the attractive man before you when he spoke again.

"Are you- oh my God. I'm so sorry she made you upset. Did she hurt you? She's usually not-" He seemed overly apologetic. You realized, then, that your face was probably puffy, red, and dreary from the cry you just had. Snot was likely gathering somewhere on your face, and you clearly looked rough. And the poor guy thought it was because of his dog.

"No! Please. Don't apologize. I was just- it wasn't her! Promise." You gave him a small smile and beckoned for Rose to come towards you again, proving your point. He slowly led her over to your side again, though slightly more calm.

"What kind of dog is she?" you asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible from your emotional display.

"She's mainly a pit, but with bits of terrier and boxer mixed in. My little mutt girl. Aren't you, my Rosie?" he smooshed the top of her head with his hand and slipped into his doggie voice, causing you to chuckle. Cute.

"Aren't you just precious!" you agreed. "And how old?" By this point, she'd made herself comfortable sitting between your legs while her owner stood facing you.

"She just turned one year, actually. Still a pup!"

"Well she's lovely..."

You continued to pat her head as she sat in a glorious bliss. Clearly, she loved the attention.

"I'm Sam by the way," he smiled. "Mostly Polish with a bit of German and French mixed in. 24 years old." Oh. So he was funny too? And his teeth were perfect..

"Nice to meet you Sam. I'm Y/N." You stood up, wiping your now-dirty pants down, much to Rose's dismay. So, you reached down to satisfy her need for pats at all times. Sam quirked up an eyebrow, still hung up on the way that he'd found you.

"Are you sure you're okay...?" he pressed.

"Yeah! No. Sorry, I'm fine. Just... long day." You went to smooth your hair back, only to realize it had half-fallen out of place. Great.

"I get it. More than you know, unfortunately."

You rocked back and forth on your heels, feeling a little awkward, before deciding to put the man out of his presumed misery.

"Well, Sam, Rose. I hope you have a good walk! It's a beautiful day for it."

"Oh we will! But I'm not quite sure she's gonna want to move on," he suggested, looking down at Rose. "You might just have to join us."

"Don't let me ruin your walk! I was just gonna head back actually..." You looked down see Rose's snout exploring your left jacket pocket. Ah, yes. The snack you'd brought and neglected to eat. She found it.

"I don't know! I think she likes you too much. Walk with us? Just for a bit and then we'll see you off?" he insisted. You considered it for a moment before giving in. This Sam and his eyes were just too sweet to say no to.

"Alright then."

The three of you set off down the path together. Sam asked you a bit about yourself, your work, where you're from and what you're doing in Nashville now.

"It's a great city. Really. I've only been here a few years, but it already feels more like home than home ever was," he explained.

"Home?"

"Michigan. A random German town with a lot of Christmas decorations. And world famous chicken!"

"World-famous, you say?" You kicked up some rocks as you went, attempting to distract yourself from staring at his slender fingers on Rose's leash.

"That is exactly what I said. But I never said it was any good..." he peeked over at you with a sly smile.

You laughed nearly the whole walk and were amazed at his ability to set you, a total stranger, at ease. Conversation seemed to flow so easily. He spoke about his brothers and his sister. He asked for your thoughts on the Space Force and whether you think that we really landed on the moon or not. And the way he said things was so casual, yet elegant. He spoke of the beauty in the mundane things in life. He pointed out the colors on the trees as you passed by a particularly beautiful section of the woods. Sam mentioned that he was a big jazz guy and played music with his brothers, much to his father's pride. He stopped plenty of times to give Rose some love. By the time you neared the end of the path, finishing almost a two mile loop, it was hard to believe you'd only just met. As cliche as it sounded, it felt even more so.

"Thanks for convincing me to tag along. I needed that little break," you admitted. He only gave a shrug in response, as if to say I told you so. Looking at the time on your phone, you realized you only had a few more minutes to get back to the office. "Shit. I gotta run, though. My boss will literally kill me if I come back late."

"Okay, okay. At least text me when you get back? Just so I know you're alive?" He snuck the phone out of your hands and shot himself a message.

You: Sam Kiszka. Weird guy from the woods.

"I will." You gave goodbye pets to Rose before scurrying as fast as you could towards the office and back to your desk. Settling in, you tried to look as unfazed as possible in front of your boss. Then, your phone dinged.

Maybe: Sam: Alive?

You smiled to yourself.

You: Yes! THANK GOD.

You quickly saved his number into your contacts.

Sam Kiszka 🐶: Glad to hear it. Drinks later? If you're not busy.

You: I'd love to. You pick where!

You had big plans with your couch that night, but you were she'd understand.

Sam Kiszka 🐶: O'Leary's, then. 8?

You: See ya then :)

(to be continued)

edit as of 2023: im so sorry I didnt make another part lol but im stuck. maybe one day Inspo will strike!

#sam kiszka #sammy gvf #gvf #greta van fleet #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka x reader #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #fluff #blurb #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #greta van fleet fic #Greta Van fleet fanfiction

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blurglesmurfklaine · 11 months

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hello/goodbye hugs that linger for javey 💙

Number 18 comin right up!

edit: oops, this got away from me because I don't know the definition of concise apparently

******

"It's just another three weeks, and then I'm home for the entire summer," Davey assures.

"It's too long," Jack whines. "I hate Yale. I hate stupid Boston and their stupid red-sox and their stupid Ivy League schools that have ya away for nine months of the year."

As much as Davey wants to pretend that Jack being all sorts of clingy is a major inconvenience, he can't dismiss the fact that he loves the way Jack always refuses to release them from their final hugs before Davey heads back to school.

It's become a tradition of sorts. They hug goodbye, and Davey makes some comment about being late for his train, and Jack tightens his grip while Davey rolls his eyes and lets his arms go limp at his side.

There's something different this time around, though, and Davey can't quite put his finger on it. The soft, ragged breath Jack takes when he buries his face into the crook of Davey's neck. The way his smile isn't entirely reaching his eyes.

"Hey," Davey's hands settle on Jack's shoulders as he puts enough space between them to get a good look at his best friend. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jack mutters. Davey can tell by the dimness of his eyes that he's lying. " 'm'fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"I guess," Jack sighs, "In the past year, with you bein' gone and all... I didn't realize how much I was gonna miss ya. I didn't realize a lot of things."

Before Davey can even open his mouth to reply, he's being hauled in again for another bone-crushing hug. Davey's arms dangle by his side in shock as Jack's come up behind his back, gripping the back of Davey's shirt with such force.

Davey blinks himself out of his stupor and slowly brings his arms to clasp around Jack's waist.

"I love you, Dave."

"Love you, too, Jackie."

Davey's on the train, his mind running through their last encounter the way a needle runs over vinyl, when his phone buzzes.

Jackie: i need to tell you something. Jackie: shoulda said it before you left Jackie: i mean, i said it, but i didn't really SAY it ykwim?? Jackie: fuck. i hope you don't have signal rn and we can just wait til u get back for summer

Me: Bad news Me: I have signal

Jackie: well shit

Me: You were saying?

The three dots indicating someone on the other side is texting pop up. They disappear for a moment and return, sending anxiety that rises like the tide shooting through Davey's veins. This is where Jack admits what's been bothering him. This is where Jack says they've grown apart, that keeping up with Davey when he's so far away isn't worth the effort, that their friendship of nearly six years isn't worth the effo--

Jackie: I love you.

Davey squints at the screen.

All that fuss for Jack to tell Davey something he already knows?

Me: That's nice, Jackie. I love you, too!

Jackie: ffs Jackie: you go to an ivy league school Jackie: ain't no way ur really this dense

Me: ??? uncalled for??

Jackie: Dave. Jackie: I'm IN LOVE with you.

Oh. Well. Davey certainly wasn't expecting that.

Jackie: and i feel stupid sayin that over a damn text message but i was too scared to say it earlier and i feel like it'll eat me alive if i don't say anything Jackie: if you don't feel the same i TOTALLY understand btw Jackie: we can also just. pretend this never happened when you come back and it'll be just like old times

He blinks dumbly at the phone, heart hammering in his chest as more frantic messages come in.

Jackie: OR you could continue to ignore me Jackie: you have your read receipts on, you know that?

Jackie: oh my god i'm gonna block you. Jackie: hi hey hello, davey jacobs? jack kelly here, your best friend who just confessed his love for you? yeah it'd be great if you could SAY SOMETHING

Me: That certainly was a sentence.

Jackie: I hate you.

Me: Pretty sure you love me. Source: you.

Jackie: no fr how am *i* the one who gets a rep for being annoying?

Jackie: really though. are we gonna talk about this?

Me: Look who's being dense now.

Jackie: DAVE

Davey laughs at his screen and decides to put Jack out of his misery, chest feeling like it's exploding into a million stars.

Me: JACK Me: Good news. Me: I love you, too.

Jackie: see, was that so hard? Jackie: holy shit, so... Jackie: we're like. properly in love huh? Jackie: whaddya wanna do about that?

Me: We could call when I get back to my dorm? Have a real conversation about it? Me: And maybe talk about it when I get home in May?

Jackie: yeah. i like the sound of both those things

When Davey comes home for summer break, Jack runs to him as soon as he steps off the train, arms so tight around his torso and heart so full that Davey can't imagine either of them ever letting go.

#newsies #javey #javid #jack kelly #david jacobs #asks #ask #anotherdaveyjacobs #thanks for this!#i usually try to post something on the anniversary of me being evicted from my mother's womb #but i didn't have anything ready yesterday so uh #here i'm gonna pretend i posted this yesterday #wow look at me im writing!

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californiaboytoybilly · 4 months

Text

HoHoHoe Week - Day Five: Up in Lights (Christmas party) Pairing: Cheerscoops / Chrissy x Steve Tags: Semi-Public Sex, Unsafe Sex, Eating Out, Creampie, Fingering, Exes-to-Lovers, Getting Back Together Ao3: Link WC: 3.3k, 1/1 Chapters

(Oops I put feelings in my porn again-)

"I didn't know you could get more beautiful."

Chrissy didn't register that she was no longer alone until a familiar voice spoke up from behind her. She spun around, surprised, cheeks already beginning to flush.

Steve.

"You don't need to say anything to that; I just-" A tiny pucker appeared between his brows, "I haven't gotten to speak to you all night. Thought you deserved to know, you look…" He breathed out a wistful sound.

Suddenly, she felt a little wrong for how devoutly she'd been trying to avoid him all night. It wasn't that she didn't want to speak to him. It was the opposite if she was being honest with herself.

Things had just been so complicated the last time they saw each other; it had seemed to be for the best.

Steve was unable to understand why she had to leave. Why she couldn't stay in Hawkins. Stuck here himself because he'd inherited a business he didn't care about but had always known he'd have to handle one day. Chrissy, unable to voice that every second she spent at home felt like it killed a little bit more of her spirit. That she loved him, but she couldn't survive this town.

She missed him these last three years. Of all places, she hadn't been expecting to see him at her father's corporate Christmas party and from the moment he'd crossed her sight, a bone-deep longing had settled into her body.

"You clean up nice yourself." She said with a small smile, trying not to succumb to old comforts and rest her head against his chest, reaching out with two fingers to straighten his tie up instead. She wasn't sure she'd seen him in clothes this formal since prom.

"I didn't know you were back." He said, glancing down at where her fingers lingered a moment too long on his chest.

Chrissy turned her gaze down to her feet. "Only for the weekend," she said quietly.

"A weekend is better than none of you at all."

Oh, that one stung a little. Steve must've seen her wince because he quickly backpedaled. "I didn't mean-"

Chrissy sighed, shaking her head. The intricate strawberry blonde curls she'd spent painstaking attention to this morning bobbed with the movement. "No, it's okay. I…”

I missed you too, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. Would that be cruel? She'd been the one to break his heart; what right did she have to miss him?

"I'm leaving." He said, changing the topic before she could spiral about it.

Chrissy paused, confused. "What?"

"I'm leaving Hawkins. This was…" Steve scrunched his nose slightly, "I'm here because I sold the shares of my dad's company to your father. He didn't tell you…?"

"He doesn't bring you up to me." She said carefully. Steve looked a little stricken, and she wanted to rephrase, but he kept going.

"Well… that's the important part, I guess. I'm not staying here." It felt like there was something else he was trying to say, something layered under the words, but she couldn't bring herself to seek it out right now. "So I'm glad you're here. Didn’t feel right saying goodbye to this place without you there.”

Chrissy could feel herself melting. Why did this one boy have to constantly do his utmost best to be irreplaceable? The way his big hazel eyes locked on her, soft and affectionate, was her tipping point.

Steve made a noise of surprise when she moved faster than her brain could veto the decision. Soft, glossed lips pressed against his with a familiarity tinged with longing. But he was frozen and decidedly not kissing back. Oh god.

Embarrassed at her behaviour, Chrissy hurriedly pulled back with an apology on the tip of her tongue, face scarlet and eyes burning.

"Don't you dare say sorry," he said, barely taking long enough to get the words out before he apparently caught up with what had just happened and pulled her back in.

She'd forgotten what this was like. What he was like. How every single one of her senses would be filled with him when he kissed her.

His big, warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close until she could feel every breath he took pushing against her chest. The same cologne he'd always worn clung pleasantly to him, dragging her back to days long gone, laying in bed together and feeling young and in love.

It was as easy to get lost in him now as it had been then.

It didn't take long for the innocent press of lips to take on a hint of desperation that only usually came to her in the dead of night when her bed was empty and her memories too vivid. But now, he was here. She didn't have to imagine what it would feel like under his touch again.

Maybe this was stupid. It probably was. The most likely way this would end was two whirlwind days of passion before she returned to her city apartment, crawled into her too-cold bed, and cried her heart out all over again. But she didn't have it in her to stop this. Not when this was everything she'd craved for three long years.

Let the gingerbread fall where it may later.

Chrissy gasped as she was picked up, her thighs meeting the cold wood of a desk mere seconds later. She shivered, toes curling in her fancy shoes as Steve stepped between her legs and leaned back in to kiss her again.

Was the air warm, or was she? Ripples of wine-coloured satin clung to her skin as he thumbed at her hips through her dress, his tongue sweet where it brushed hers with the taste of the sugary punch bowls on every table.

Chrissy slid her hands up his sides, careful not to press too lightly. She knew from experience Steve was incredibly ticklish.

She pulled his lips between her teeth, keeping it clasped as she broke the kiss and pulled his tucked shirt free of the slacks he wore. Steve's eyes scanned her face, taking in her wide, round eyes and kiss-bitten lips when she freed his own.

He groaned as she slipped her hands under his shirt, scratching her nails up and over his hips with a soft little "please?" aimed at him through her lashes.

His face was the definition of 'how could I possibly say no to that?' as he looked between her and the door, briefly leaving her alone on the desk as he moved towards the door.

She didn't so much as have time to question his actions or be disappointed before she heard the lock click, sticky sweet warmth flooding her abdomen and travelling rapidly down. Shit, this was really happening.

Steve crossed back to her side of the room, eyes dark and lips swollen in a way that made her want to bite him all over again. He, however, clearly had other plans. "Are you sure?" He asked, eye contact never wavering until she shyly nodded her head. "Please…" She repeated.

Steve kissed her again, this time slow and burning, but it didn't linger long. A soft sigh escaped her throat as another series of kisses were pressed to her ear, neck, and shoulder before he brushed the strap of her dress away.

It felt so lovely that she briefly closed her eyes, only to find that he'd slid to his knees upon reopening them.

As his mouth brushed over her thigh, Chrissy took just a second to properly acknowledge that this was the riskiest thing she'd ever done. She was at a Christmas party, about to get eaten out and fucked by her ex-boyfriend she'd once thought she'd marry on somebody's desk.

Life was really throwing her some curveballs lately.

Thinking time was over, however, as he pulled her baby blue cotton underwear off. She was a little embarrassed to have been wearing them, but in her defence, she hadn't exactly been expecting anybody to see under her dress tonight.

Still, the contrast between her slinky red elegant outfit and polka dot panties had Steve trying to bite back a smile as he- not remotely subtly- shoved them in his jacket pocket.

The sight alone made her clench tight as a throb of want shot through her core. She placed her hands behind her on the desk so she could shift her hips forward. Even the thought of what he might do with those later had something purring, and she didn't see any cats around.

"Almost forgot about the tattoo," Steve said, fingers brushing over her inner thigh. She snorted out an indelicate laugh, turning her face towards the ceiling.

It was a tiny little stamp of a tattoo, so close to her bikini line that you weren't seeing it unless she wanted you to. A little salamander silhouette pulled from a random flash tattoo machine the day of her eighteenth birthday almost six years ago now.

"You shouldn't have! You were the one who dared me to get it." She couldn't help but grin.

Steve's own smile was a little too soft to not look out of place kneeling between her thighs. It made her squirm for a variety of reasons. "Well, I stand by that dare. It's a good memory."

If he made her cry when he was supposed to be-

Almost as though he read her mind, he fell silent and spread her legs further apart. His eyes drank her in like his favourite meal had been served, and fuck, he needed to touch her or close his eyes this second before she actually died.

She impatiently rolled her hips, earning a bemused little smirk before he finally gave her what she wanted.

A soft whimper escaped her as his tongue spread her open, a pointed little flick of the tip in just the right spot making her entire body shudder. Chrissy's head dropped back, a pant of breath following. The distant thrum of Christmas music drifted through the background, and she hoped it was loud enough to keep the other partygoers in the dark because she didn't trust her ability to stay completely quiet.

His fingertips curled into her thighs where he held them, just tight enough that she hoped they would leave a bruise behind. Something to remember this by when she was alone on Monday.

A little taste of the man she wasn't entirely positive she'd ever completely move on from.

Who could blame her when he had a tongue like that?

Chrissy reached down to thread a hand through his hair, biting down on her lower lip hard to muffle herself as he shifted, the pad of his ring finger circling her entrance teasingly as he sucked hard on her clit.

She cried out softly, the sole arm holding her up shaking like it was going to give out.

The stretch of the digit pushing into her, thicker than two of her own, was accompanied by a delicious burn that had her legs shaking. He curled it like he was beckoning her, stroking at her walls, playing her body like an expert. Like he remembered everything she'd ever liked.

He just might kill her, right here on this desk. She hadn't been touched by anyone in so long, nevermind touched by him.

It took barely a minute more and the very tip of his second finger before she started to beg. "Please, Stevie. Need you in me." She slurred, feeling drunk on the fireworks currently going off inside of her.

As fucking delicious as his mouth and hands were, she needed more. She needed him.

Steve groaned into her, once again making her thighs spasm with the vibration. "You're going to kill me." He echoed her earlier thoughts. If she wasn't so desperate, she might've taken a minute to be proud of the effect she clearly still had on him.

He got to his feet fluidly as she suddenly found herself empty, only the promise of more to come keeping her from whining as she clenched around empty air.

She'd asked him to stop yet it felt like her world might end from impatience now that he had listened.

Chrissy batted his hands away from his belt as he fumbled the clasp, fingers only a little clumsy as she popped the gold button and pulled his zipper down. Her mouth watered at the sight as he fished himself out of the confines of his dress slacks. She wondered if he could still recover as fast as he had at twenty one.

If she wasn't so eager to be full of him, she might've dropped to her knees right then and there.

She watched as a conflicted expression crossed his face, then annoyance. "Shit..." He muttered, eyes darting towards the door. "I left my jacket out there. I don't have protection."

Chrissy tried to hide the way her teeth ground together at the thought of him bring protection to this party to begin with. He hadn't known she'd been here, was there some other girl who he'd been hoping to go home with?

... that wasn't fair of her. She had no right to be jealous of who he may or may not want to sleep with. Still, he was here. With her. She was his choice. If that made her preen ever so slightly, that was her own business.

"Don't need it." She said, fluttering her eyes with mock innocence as she pulled him back in between her legs with a firm grip on his tie. Steve looked like he was going to ask so she beat him to it.

"I'm on the pill. Don't need protection, I want feel all of you." She licked over her lip, waiting for his answer.

But he was a gone man.

Instead of saying anything, she watched as his chest rose and then dropped in a sharp exhale. "I don't know what I did to deserve this." He mumbled, looking briefly skyward- or... ceiling-ward? -as though in thanks to karma herself.

Messy, eager lips slotted back against her own as he pressed the blunt head of his cock against her, sliding it through her slick teasingly for barely a moment before she felt him start to push in.

Oh god.

She'd forgotten that he felt even bigger than he looked, a feat she hadn't realized was possible their first time together.

It felt like he might split her apart as she babbled something incoherent against his lips, eyes pricking with tears.

"Too much?" He sounded strained as he leaned back just barely an inch, clearly using all of his willpower to go slow. She shook her head furiously, a half sob bubbling from her lips.

"If you stop right now, I'll never forgive you." She threatened breathlessly, her eyes rolling back in her head as another inch pressed into her. Fuck!

Her dainty gold rings glinted in the low light as she lifted her hand to curl around the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together as he bottomed out. They shared quick breaths, dilated eyes meeting in the shadowed space between them.

The chemistry they'd always had definitely hadn't dissipated with time. She just may have wanted him now more than ever before.

After a moment, she relaxed enough that the last little spike of pain started to receed. "Move-" She pleaded, "I can take it."

She didn't need to ask twice, a strangled sound forcing it's way out as he pulled almost all the way out and then fucked back into her like she'd lit a fire under his feet.

"You feel so fucking good." He grunted, eyelids fluttering as set a quick pace that had her little tits bouncing with every single thrust. Chrissy felt herself go pliant, body too melty to hold herself up anymore. Reluctantly, because the intimacy of their shared sounds was something she was loathe to lose, she let go of the back of his neck to lower herself down.

The cold wood made goosebumps rise on her skin, hair hanging over the back and swinging with each jolt of her body.

Now free to wander, her hands ghosted up her silk encased sides until she reached the neckline of her dress, pulling it down just enough to roll a petal pink nipple between her fingers.

"A-ah! Fuck please, just like that, keep doing th-" Chrissy tried to keep her voice down as best she could as her abdomen tightened, every inch of her skin flushed and hot.

Steve looked about as put together as she did with his bruised mouth, mussed hair and half lidded eyes. He hadn't once taken his eyes off of her since he pushed in, making her feel like a treasure. A pretty thing to be revered, admired.

It only stoked the flames hotter.

Flames which were rapidly bringing her to the edge, so worked up from his tongue and the lead up alone that his finger was hovering on her trigger already.

It wouldn't take much more for her to fall to pieces.

He seemed to know that in the same way that he knew her body all these years later. Like she was his favourite book he'd long memorized, able to quote any scene on a whim no matter the time it had sat untouched on the shelf.

His hips snapped faster, the wet, smacking sound of their bodies meeting filling the room. She felt drool pool at the corner of her mouth, which was a little slack as an unintelligable littany of pleading poured from her without end.

"M'so close. Please, baby." She slipped, too needy to register what she'd said.

Steve's eyes flew open at the pet name, face crumpling as though he'd been wounded, thrusts out of rhythm and getting messier by the second. She knew what that meant, and she was right there with him.

"Want to feel you come inside me-" She barely managed to get out, but it did exactly what she wanted as the coil inside of her snapped and her orgasm crashed into her with a force that seemed to shake her down to her very bones.

She felt him shudder as he stilled, buried so deep inside of her as he came that her delirious mind could almost convince her she could taste him.

The only sound in the aftermath was their laboured breathing as they both came down, Steve almost folding himself in half to press his face into her stomach as he tried to get his grip back on reality.

After a moment, when some of the brain fog started to clear, Chrissy finally spoke up. "If I'm losing this again on Monday, you better be spending all day tomorrow at my hotel." She mumbled, brain still too drowned in endorphins to veto her too honest words.

But Steve had more surprises than even she could have imagined, chuckling as he slowly stood back up straight on uneasy legs.

"I mean, I told you I was leaving Hawkins." He said, making her brows furrow. "Tonight?" She asked, trying not to let the sad lump in her throat ruin the glow currently buzzing through her.

Steve shook his head. "No I mean..." He looked nervous, holding out a hand to help her sit back up to see him better.

"I'm moving to Portland. Next week, as soon as the lawyer stamps the paperwork. Already got an apartment lined up."

Portland.

Portland?

"But... wait, I live in Portland." She said, almost as though she'd forgotten before. Steve shook his head, so incredibly fondly, and reached out to brush a lock of hair back from her face.

"I know. That was the main appeal."

Chrissy's eyes widened, tears pooling at her lashline almost immediately as his words really sunk in.

For the first time all night, she realized this might not just be a stolen moment doomed to crush her heart later.

She could keep him, this time.

Maybe coming home for the holidays wasn't so bad after all.

#steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #cheerscoops #haircheer #harringham #chrissy x steve #steve x chrissy #st fic #stranger things rarepair #hohohoe23 #day five: up in lights

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