#the show feels very yes yes the time knife we’ve all seen it about EVERY SINGLE STORY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theshelbyclan · 4 years ago

Text

Castle in the Sky

Summary: You’re the daydreaming sibling of the Shelby’s, but when the adventure spills over into real life, it’s not as great as you’d imagined

(Gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: A sweet anon requested: can I have request please Something like this Tommy was very protective over y/n and she gets hurt by one of the bad guys and sees blood on her face now all bruised but Tommy wants revenge Omg if you do so thank you so much for my request! ❤️ Huge fan of your works!This is set around season 1, back in the good old days when the only real enemy was Billy Kimber, remember those days? So easy… anyways, hope you like it J Words: 2933 ***

You were only nine when you started as a bookie’s runner for the Peaky Blinders. Nothing about this was special, half the kids of Small Heath worked for them, but there was just one difference: the Shelby’s were your brothers. It was a good job in many ways, because it meant not only being able to help your brothers, but people were inclined to give you a bit extra, just for being a Shelby. You imagined they thought it good luck.

“Y/N, take this to the other side of town, will you?” Tommy requested as he sat hunched over a newspaper. You protested a little, “Why me? I’ve done all of mine for today…” “This one’s extra, alright?” “Who is it?” you could never hide your inquisitive nature. But you only showed it around your brothers; to the rest of the world you were just quiet and practically invisible. He smirked slightly, “Someone who’ll pay up big. That’s why I need you to do it. Can’t trust any of the other kids not to steal…” “I have some homework to do, Tommy.” At thirteen, you were still at school, which was a minor miracle in Birmingham. “Tell you what: if you just do this one job, I’ll get you magazine you’ve been talking about, eh?” now he looked up and met your eyes. “Book, Tommy,” you smiled, “You might have heard of the concept? It’s a little like a magazine, a little like that newspaper, but with more pages? Some find it challenging, but once you get used to it…” “Alright, little miss know-it-all,” he grumbled without malice, “Go on, take the slip, make sure he bets all. Off with you. Stop outsmarting your old brother, eh?” He winked to make sure you were comfortable and you returned it with a big grin. “Where?” “Digbeth,” Tommy’s nose was back in the newspaper, “behind the Golden Dragon.” ***

As you were walking through the streets of Small Heath on your way to Digbeth, you were daydreaming. In a way it was strange just how different you were from your brothers, because the entire Shelby clan was very realistic, trying to make their way in this hard world, where you would rather pretend all day you were the main character in some story. The books you read, it was all an escape to you. So while you were walking, the people and factories disappeared. In your head, you were walking through the woods, on a secret mission that your king gave you. With the top-priority letter in your pocket, you remembered what he’d told you before you left: “If you get caught, eat the letter. If they capture you, make sure to be brave and never divulge its contents to anyone. And if all else fails, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. But remember, you have to memorize the contents of the letter first…” Wouldn’t it just be easier to memorize it now and destroy the letter immediately? You pondered on the matter… In the distance, you could see the mountains and the towers of another kingdom, and you knew your enemies were near. Without anyone noticing, you put a hand to your pocket and could feel the reassuring rustling of paper underneath your fingers: the letter was still there. If it would come to a fight, how would you go about it? If there were just one man, the small dagger in your boots would suffice. If it were two, you’d distract one, maybe by throwing the veil you were wearing, quickly turning around to kill the other and then back to the first one before he had time to recover. If there were more than three, you’d run, because you were the fastest after all. You’d get to higher ground and attack them from there, like a deadly shadow they could never see coming. As you smiled to yourself, you left the daydream for a short moment. You looked down and saw the muddy shoes you were wearing, marching through Birmingham mud. In the distance, all you saw was smoke and factory pipes. But it was honestly all you needed: your imagination did the rest. The real world barged in when you delivered the slip in Digbeth. Everything went smoothly at first. Your big brown eyes persuaded him to indeed bet big, and you were quite satisfied with yourself, knowing Tommy would be too. But you still had to walk back with a lot of money now in your pocket.

*** Almost home, there were only a few streets to go. Your head was back in the clouds and this time you were imagining you were a spy during the war. Silently, you moved through the streets, making yourself invisible and pretending every man wearing a hat was the enemy. So each time you saw one, you changed directions or hid for a second. It was a fun game, until you realised the enemy wasn’t wearing a hat. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing on the streets, all by herself?” A man with a heavy Cockney accent popped up next to you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. In your dreams, you always knew what to say, but in reality it wasn’t so easy. The man approached you and you noticed he’d cut you off from your one exit out of the alley, “It’s Y/N Shelby, isn’t it,” he grinned. “No,” you managed to say, “you got the wrong girl.” He grinned again, “Nice try, sweetheart. We’ve seen you at the Garrison. They don’t allow little girls at the pub, unless they’re a Shelby.” This was all true. You felt your hands getting clammy. “Tommy sent you, didn’t he?” Again, you tried to remember what the hero in your stories would do. She’d run, climb the building and then throw a knife right between the eyes of the man. Or she’d say something clever, just to distract him, and then turn around and escape when he least expected it. He took another few steps forward and you could smell him now, a smell of strange smoke and the river, “Do you know who I am?” Nailed to the ground, you shook your head. “I work for Mr. Billy Kimber. Ever heard of him?” You turned to see if you could escape, but then realised the other side of the alley was blocked by two more men. Neither of them were wearing hats. Cold sweat of fear ran down your back. The man in front of you started laughing, “There’s no running, sweetheart. Just give it to me.” At once you realised he was referring to the money in your pocket, but for Tommy’s sake, you wanted at least to try to be brave, “I don’t have anything.” He sighed, “Don’t play with me. I’m not the kind of man to play with, and neither is Mr. Kimber,” his voice was suddenly low and menacing, “Your brother thought he could, thought he would get away with fixing a race, he did, and now he’s going to be put against the post and shot. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You gulped, but still thought of Tommy’s disappointment in you when he would find out you’d been a coward. So you took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s not yours. This money is ours. You can tell Mr. Kimber to go fuck himself!” It didn’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped. Like a crack of thunder, he swiftly slapped you across the face with the back of his hand. All the air was knocked out of your lungs in a second and you stood gasping for air, as you felt some blood trickling down your chin. “Give me the money,” he demanded again. And then, like your heroes, you pretended to reach for it in your pocket. Suddenly, you turned around and started running into the other direction, hoping to slip past the two men before they could stop you. But it didn’t work. One grabbed your arm and when you tried to push him away, he punched you hard. All strength left you in an instant. The second one started fumbling in your pockets and instinctively you kicked him, which earned you another blow to the head. More punches followed and your head was spinning. As you looked up to the sky, you remembered wanting to get back home, to your castle, where all was well and safe. In the end, they left you on the ground and the money was gone. Your last thought was: Tommy is going to be so embarrassed.

*** “Y/N?” You opened your eyes, but couldn’t see for a moment. “Y/N,” the familiar voice repeated, “Come on, yes, let’s get you home. Polly, Polly will know what to do, yes…” Strong arms lifted you up and rocking with his familiar limp, Curly carried you back to Watery Lane. When he’d taken you into the kitchen, Aunt Polly flew to your side in seconds, asking, “What’s happened?” Uncertainly, Curly explained and as he did, he started to become upset over your state. That’s when Tommy came in and started to calm him, while keeping an eye on you all the time. “Sweetheart,” Aunt Polly had taken a cold cloth to the cut in your lip, “Wake up… Come back to us…” Again you tried opening you eyes and you finally managed this time. But all your concern was with Curly, who was still anxiously fidgeting with his cap in hand. “Don’t worry, Curly,” you croaked, “I’m alright now. You did good, carrying me here.” “Polly will know what to do…” he kept on repeating. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and it had an immediate calming effect, “It’s alright, Curly, go back to Charlie, eh? We’ll take care of her now.” Before he left, you said to him, “Curly? I’ll stop by tomorrow, see about that beautiful horse of yours, alright?” That put an immediate smile on his face, “Yes, she’s a beauty, alright… And she needs her princess to ride her! Back to that castle in the sky…yes…” When he’d gone, you lowered your head again and sighed deeply. Carefully, you felt your face and only then realised how awful you must look. “Who did this,” Tommy demanded at once. Polly glared daggers at him, “You did, I presume?” “Me?” “I told you again and again not to use the little ones to run errands. Sending them across half of Birmingham with money in their pockets, and look what happens!” For a moment, Tommy seemed to be speechless. Then he protested, “They’re invisible, Pol. Nobody knows they’re carrying anything.” “This one did,” you interjected, “because he knew who I was.” “How?” “Said he was with Kimber,” you whispered as the memories came back to you, “said he’d put me up against a post and he’d shoot me, like he’d do with you…” In a sudden fit of rage, Tommy grabbed a chair and flung it across the room. Polly snarled at the gesture and then turned to you, “Stay here. This cloth is cold, keep it against your eye, or it’ll turn black in half an hour, and I can’t take you to church looking like that. I just need to have a word with your brother.” You took the cloth and didn’t dare to look at Tommy, who was now being taken away by his aunt like he was ten years old again and in trouble. Aunt Polly closed the door behind her, but you still tried to hear as much as you could. Most of it was lost, but when they started shouting you heard bits like “putting your little sister in danger!” and “this is Billy fucking Kimber, Thomas” and “family first”. At first Tommy protested with “I didn’t know they knew her” and “Kimber is getting weak”, but eventually he shouted out in defeat, “I fucked up, alright? I’ll fix it. I promise.” When they came back, Tommy looked like a dog that’d just been kicked. So he retreated into a corner and started smoking, still sulking a little. Aunt Polly lifted your head up by placing a finger under your chin, “You won’t look pretty for a week, but it’ll heal.” You shrugged, not caring about being pretty at all, and muttered, “I feel like an idiot…” “Why?” your aunt demanded, “because big men decided to go after a small girl?” Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes, as you admitted, “Because I wanted to be brave! In my stories I’m pretty and strong and the hero, but in reality I’m just like a mouse. No one notices me and I’m useless…” “Sweetheart,” Polly softened her voice and crouched down next to you, “Just because you can’t fight like Arthur or John can, doesn’t make you useless. We’re all stuck here, in Small Heath, and there’s nothing pretty about that. But you reading all those books? That’s what’s going to make this easier. You can pretend, and that’s worth more than you’ll ever realise.” You smiled back at your aunt, who always knew what to say to make you feel better. “I’m off to the chemist to get you some powder against the pain,” she kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right back, love.” After she’d gone as well, you sighed again and dropped the cloth. Her words mattered, of course they did, but it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t happy with yourself at all. For starters, you still couldn’t bear looking at Tommy. “Y/N,” he grumbled, which convinced you even more he was angry and disappointed, “Tell me what they looked like.” “They didn’t wear hats…” Impatiently he waved a hand, “Apart from that. What else?” “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it all happened fast, Tommy. They had that accent that Kimber has as well.” “Fucking Cockneys…” your brother breathed. “Tommy?” you tried carefully, “I’m so sorry, but I lost the money. I tried to keep it. When they asked I told them to fuck off and then I tried to run and even fight, but they still took it. I’m so sorry…” He held up a hand to silence you and locked eyes with you, “You told them to fuck off?” “Yes, but it didn’t help…” “You actually told them to fuck off?” he frowned, “Usually you’re too shy to even say anything to strangers…” “I was angry,” you explained, “and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tommy walked over to you and much to your surprise, he was smirking, “So you told them to go fuck themselves, and then you fought them?” “Yes?” “Did you hit any of them?” You thought about it for a second, “I think I kicked one in the balls and hit the other in the face.” His grin grew even wider and he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till I tell Arthur about this…” “Why?” you protested, “So he can laugh at me as well?” “No, sweetheart, he’ll be the proudest brother ever. His little sister, who everyone thinks is a little mouse too scared to do anything? She fucking hit a grown man and told them to go fuck themselves. Now that’s a hero in my book!” His laugh was contagious and you had to join in. But soon you became uncertain again and asked, “Are you not upset I lost the money?” “The money’s not important,” his face grew serious again in an instant, “but you are.” “Really?” you whispered. “Yes,” he took your face in his hands, “Listen, Y/N, this is what’s going to happen: Billy Kimber threatened my little sister, so I’m going to put himup against the post, and shoot him.” “And then what?” “Well, what usually happens in your books? Maybe I could learn something from them, eh?” A warm feeling of being appreciated for who you were came over you, “You’d take his kingdom and his skull would be put up on the gates, as a warning for all future enemies.” “That’s fucking dark,” Tommy raised one eyebrow, “But I like it.” “Me too…” you smiled at your brother. “I mean it though, Y/N. Kimber touched you, so I’m going to shoot the bastard. I won’t let anyone fucking go near you again.” And just like that, you felt safe enough again to continue dreaming. *** A few weeks later, everything had turned to chaos, both in the Shelby household as in the whole of Birmingham. Tommy didn’t speak to anyone of what happened to you, he hadn’t even apologized, but he wasn’t like that. He told you he’d fix it, promised you revenge, and that was even better. When the men were counting minutes in front of the Garrison and Billy Kimber’s army arrived, you were sitting at home with a book. You couldn’t really concentrate, because you knew there were too many of them. You pretended some angel would appear to save them all. There’d have to be no bloodshed, because this angel would be on your brothers’ side. That angel came in the form of your older sister Ada. She’d always had flair. In the end, only two bullets were fired. You listened to them both. One killed Danny Whizz-bang. The other killed Billy Kimber. Nobody knew, but as Tommy fired, he didn’t have business on his mind.

As he aimed, he saw his little sister’s face, all bruised and battered.

He whispered, “for Y/N,” and shot.

Bang.

***

Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

Text

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you��re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #the island chapter 8

286 notes · View notes

inkdemonapologist · 3 years ago

Photo

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

nEW SESSION (summary here!), where there’s been an unexpected development to the music issue and its time to [checks my notes] taLK TO THE PROPHET AND BREAK INTO SUSIE’S APARTMENT??? Also, the Prophet and Joey have made.... a truce(???), Prophet is concerned Sammy isn’t going to stay on task now that music is returning and has left him a sort of alarming note, and Jack is uh, trying to hold, too many things, maybe some things he shouldn’t be holding, Jack please put those things back,

anyway heres a stack of out-of-context quotes from our session under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] My favourite thing is, there are so many reasons that Henry could've avoided things that I have no idea WHY Henry isn't affected. [Jack] Like, is he not affected because his art isn't a performance? Is he not affected because he warded his house? Is he not affected because he'S FILLED WITH GLOWING BLOOD?!?

[Jack] He got as far as feeding his cat, and I feel like feeding cat isn't a performance-- [Sammy] Not usually, not unless you sing a song to your cat, which-- [Jack] Awww! [Sammy] -- which, now that I've said that, sounds like something Jack would do actually,

[Sammy] Ohhhh, that's right, Joey just heard some people play some bad notes and start panicking, and then he stood up and passed out, [Jack] Which is probably how Sammy feels every time he hears people mess up music!

[GM] He finds news on the radio, but they’re not talking about that right now. [Joey] What are they talking about? [GM] Something mundane; business or sports or something. [Jack] The, the sportsball team, got a…..uh….. a, a point. Congratulations, sportsball,

[Joey] If the sportscasters sound normal, then Joey is instantly VERY ANGRY.

[Henry] Henry’s not very musically inclined, but he knows some songs, [Sammy] Like, can you hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- [Jack] “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

[Jack] Jack has made a vague list of the kinds of people who seem to be affected. [Jack] There’s also “NOT HENRY?????” with a bunch of question marks in this list.

[GM] He’s told that Peter is out of town for a week. [Jack] Hmm. [Sammy] PETER WHERE ARE YOU GOING? [Jack] Hmmmmmm. [Sammy] Jack, is Peter coming here, to check on you, [Jack] HMMMMMMMMMMMMM,

[Sammy] *exasperated* NPCs Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Challenge [Henry] Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Or Draw 25

[Joey] Peter had never seen a Bendy cartoon, and this needed to be fixed. [Joey] The premier is this weekend, and he sent tickets to Pete to correct this, error, in his ways. [Jack] ...I think it is very slowly dawning on Jack, that this means that Pete has been pulled directly into yet another… supernatural nonsense... [Sammy] WE DIDNT DO THIS ONE!!

[Sammy] I CAN’T BELIEVE PHONES ARE THE ANTAGONIST OF THIS ADVENTURE

[Henry] Oh wait--! oh, no, nevermind, I forgot he and Allison probably aren’t together yet. [Sammy] Yeah, I think they just met; they had a meet-cute where they found out they both like Frankenstein and that’s it. [Jack] They actually got married today, since nothing else was happening at the Studio, [Sammy] That’s why Allison hasn’t shown up, she was busy getting married!

[GM] Bendy might’ve been keeping tabs on Henry, but it depends I guess on how distressed Joey is seeming. [Joey] Joey is probably just going to bury his sorrow in studying magic. [GM] Okay! That’s fine and normal Joey behaviour!

[Sammy] Sammy will note that nothing got done in the music department, because he has good priorities.

[Jack] I like the idea that it’s just like, when the teacher isn’t in, and nobody does the work the substitute teacher gave you, [Jack] Everyone’s just playing pokemon in the back, [GM] I thought you were going to say “poker,” but I like the way you ended the sentence better.

[Jack] HMMMMMM. I wonder if we know, any suspicious women, who were around on that specific day, who are known to have, skill and interest in magical things, [Joey] And also were aware of the cutouts, [Sammy] *cheerfully* Yeah, weird! Anyway!!!!

[Jack] Sammy was acting weird about Allison. Far too agreeable for a Sammy!

[Sammy] *talking about Prophet* If you want to lock him in somewhere, or restrain him, I’ll cooperate. [Jack] Just handcuff him to Jack! [Sammy] SAMMY IS UNEASY WITH THAT PLAN, [Jack] *laughing* What could go wrong! It’s not like Jack is significantly less strong or anything!!

[Jack] Not everyone makes up their entire self, Joey!!! (Affectionate)!!

[Sammy] I give my word, my sheep! [Henry] How good is your word? [Sammy] I mean. It’s pretty good.

[Henry] Henry’s trying to decide if it would be rude to doodle during this very serious conversation. [Jack] I mean, Jack is taking notes, so I feel like-- [Joey] --you can get away with fake note-ing. [GM] No one will know! [GM] Well, Bendy will know, because he’s up high. [GM] Ceiling Bendy

[Sammy] He’s not gonna give you a grade afterwards, like, this isn’t a lecture, [Jack] Time for Prophet Pop Quiz!

[GM] What’s Prophet writing? [Sammy] Um, I gotta think about this... [Jack] “Dear Frightened Shepherd, that Allison person sure is nice, isn’t she?” [GM] “What’s up with everyone ragging on her?” [Joey] “I think I have finally found a way to bridge the gap between us!” [Jack] “I think you need to replace your sheep, they seem kind of suspicious for no reason,” [Jack] “To Do List: Get Better Sheep”

[Sammy] Does this feel like something that’s trying to take his focus, like, very compelling creative ideas? [GM] Yes. [Sammy] ...Prophet will write “don’t get distracted” five more times.

[GM] His mind is abuzz with thoughts of dancing and actoring, [GM] Ideas to be the best Joey ever! [Jack] Oh no.

[Joey] He will wave at the cutout and make a “come here” motion. [Joey] Though also, he’s looking at the cutout like, I’m not quite sure how this works, but I’m going to trust you that it works! So I’m going to do this and see if Bendy shows up! [Jack] Like someone trying to learn how to do phone video calls for the first time, [Joey] YES. Joey’s actually like really close to the cutout, and the motions -- you can make them out, but it’s really awkward,

[Sammy] They’re in no danger. I will take care of the Shepherd’s sheep. [Jack] ...JACK’S BEEN DOWNGRADED!! He’s no longer PROPHET’S sheep!

[Joey] I like how everything Prophet says really just feels like, Knife Cat face.

[GM] You could probably make a Mythos roll to figure it out. [Joey] *rolls* Oh! Extreme success! [GM] Joey’s back!

[GM] Bendy will lead Joey back to the room, where hopefully there are three alive, non-fighting boys!

[Jack] Part of me was like, “What if Jack DOES turn into a cat…?! It’d be pretty hard to write things!” [GM] *laughs* We’ll keep that in our back pocket, in case Jack ever fails a Mythos check. [Jack] Meowthos check…

[Henry] I’m going to have Henry look, look with his Special Eyes.

[Sammy] *failing a roll* Prophet is just, NOT on the ball today, in any way shape or form. [GM] Really hard not to think about music. : ) [Sammy] Ohhhhhh boy, [Jack] Prophet just writes a note to Sammy that says “HOW do you LIVE like this???”

[Henry] Henry’s gonna try to scribble what he remembers of the symbol! [Sammy] Didn’t we learn, from the last scenario, about reproducing weird symbols, [Henry] No.

[Joey] Did Joey get burnt? [GM] Make a dexterity roll! : ) [Henry] *mumbling* Y’all this entire building is made of wood. *Joey fails* [GM] 1 point of damage, you singe your hand -- on the plus side, you kind of were holding it as it burned up, so it doesn’t fall on the wooden floor. [Sammy] OH GOOD, we’re not LOCKED IN A CLOSET that’s about to burn down? GREAT!

[Joey] We could head over to the infirmary -- [Jack] Jack is already pulling the burn ointment out of his bag. [Jack] He’s prepared this time! [Jack] He’s been practicing, he knows what you’re all like,

[Joey] Joey will give him a smile that’s most recognisable as the “I know you will do good!” smile. [Sammy] Prophet will also smile! It is not a friendly smile. [Jack] It’s a “smile” in quotation marks, but it’s like, baring your teeth as an act of aggression.

[Jack] Jack lets him go to do the call, but just before he picks up the phone, he says, “Don’t call him Petey.”

[GM] The phone rings, and is not answered. [Joey] Okay! Joey hangs up, says Peter checked into his room, but is not answering. Most likely asleep. [Jack] Half of my brain is going, “what if he’s just stood outside Jack’s house?” The other half of my brain is concerned about manias. I hope he’s not decided that now is a really great time to do more writing, and now he can’t stop, and this could go wrong-- [Jack] This is what Jack’s mind is doing, thinking of all the terrible possibilities. [Joey] While humming. [Jack] ...yes. He’s writing some very troubling lyrics.

[Sammy] *talking about Jack’s compulsive humming* Like Cornifer, [Jack] *starts humming Cornifer’s theme* Dangit, now it’s in my head, why would you do this to me? [Sammy] It’s in character! [Sammy] Method acting. : )

[Joey] Joey’s going to grab supplies to make sure Bendy can… hang around with them! [Joey] Sleepover supplies! Let’s grab your sleepover bag! :D

[Sammy] I don’t know why the idea of a wild Bendy running around across the rooftops is so cute to me… [GM] Probably on all fours, [Jack] Scampering,

[Jack] It’s a good thing Henry’s around because I don’t think Jack can… carry??? An entire Sammy??? [Jack] Like he’s good at holding but he’s not strong at holding.

[Joey] We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours… [Joey] WAIT. We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours!!!

[GM] Bendy hides under a blanket or something. [Jack] Comfey… [GM] Cozy boy, [Joey] Bendyrito. [Sammy] BENDYRITO,…….. [GM] Rolled up… snug...

[GM] Is everybody coming into the apartment, or just the two? [Jack] Hmmm….. Jack isn’t fond of either of these options. Going in is suspicious and weird; staying outside makes it look even more like they’re breaking in, to steal things, as opposed to, y’know, breaking in, for,,, “good” reasons(???) [Sammy] We’re not breaking in, we’re just walking into this apartment! What’s so weird about that?! [Jack] That’s breaking in. That’s what breaking in is, Sammy. [Sammy] They don’t have to know that we don’t belong here, maybe Susie gave us a key! [Jack] ...they heard us knocking. [Sammy] [Sammy] We’re BEING POLITE!! SHUT UP!!

[Henry] Jack, did you pick up kleptomania.. [Joey] I thought Jack picked up Being Prepared! [Jack] H-he’s just hoarding a little bit!! It’s fine!!! It’s very, useful, see, already Joey got injured!! It was useful to bring lots of things with him okay!!!!!!!!!

[GM] They do not have the police called on them, so that’s nice. [Sammy] Oh good! [Jack] Thank GOODNESS. [Henry] Love when that happens! [GM] If you guys got arrested, the Lurker’s just out in the car all night, [Henry] oh NO, [Jack] Worse punishment than jail… [Joey] Lurker learns how to drive for fun. [GM] *laughs* Gets curious, [Joey] “I said I wouldn’t leave the car, but--”

[Joey] WAIT. There’s a very important factor that we just decided but didn’t say. [GM] Oh? [Joey] If we have Henry heading home, and everyone else sleep over at Jack’s…. [Joey] ...the Lurker finally gets to meet a cat. *everyone gasps* [Jack] Oh that’s SO important

[Henry] And Henry will probably look at these, while in the car, to make sure they don’t have any gold writing on them-- [Sammy] Isn’t Henry driving??? [Henry] ……Henry is not going to look at them in the car,

[Sammy] We’re all going to bed, Sammy, you don’t need a banjo to sleep! [Joey] You might sleep worse if you have a banjo, actually. You might not stop.

[Sammy] Jack you wanna join us? We’re gonna just jam all night! [Jack] It really is Jammy… [Sammy] *laughs* TRUE Jammy!! Real Jammy Hours… [GM] That makes it a pyJAMa party… a real jammy jam…

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #joey drew #Henry Stein #Bendy the Lurker #when in doubt just keep drawing #cthulhu game quotes #everyone except henry got a new insanity and we're doing... fine!

199 notes · View notes

rowyn-writes · 4 years ago

Text

A Mother's Love (Dean x Wife!Reader)

Warnings: Language, fluff, major angst, implications of divorce, arguing, Dean being mean to Jack

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (mentioned only)

Word count: 2.7k

You threw your bag down as you entered the bunker, exhausted from your last hunt. This was one of the rare cases where you worked alone.

Sometimes you needed the time to yourself, away from all the men. Sometimes you would go hunting with Jody and Claire, but even then, those two argued like cats and dogs.

"Y/N," Jack smiled as you entered the kitchen. "How was the hunt?"

"It was pretty good, actually." You grinned as you sat across from him. "I was chasing down this werewolf in Tennessee, and it was really strange. He'd kill one person, turn the next, and repeat that cycle."

"That's. . . Weird." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's what I said. Well," You continued on with the story of your hunt, watching as Jack's eyes widened in amazement and awe.

"Y/N?" Dean called your name, entering the kitchen. "Hey, sweetheart. I didn't know you were home?"

You stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry, babe. I got sidetracked. I was just telling Jack about my trip." You smiled, looking over at the boy. You were concerned, as the smile fell from his face and he looked away from you and Dean. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," He nodded, not meeting your eye. "I'll give you two some space." He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Does he seem off to you?" You asked Dean.

"Nah, he acts like he usually does. Squirrelly and weird."

"Says the squirrel himself." You rolled your eyes. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

Dean said nothing as he looked down, an obvious indicator that he was guilty of something. "Dean," You growled lowly. "Did you say something to Jack? Something that would upset him somehow?"

When Dean didn't give you an answer, you shook your head as you follow Jack to his room.

"Jack." You called out. He seemed to be lost in thought, as he didn't react to your words. "Jack!" You said louder, causing him to turn around. There was a tiny amount of fear in his eyes. If you didn't know him, it wouldn't have affected you.

"What's wrong?" You asked softly, resting your hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing." He spoke. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"Jack, I saw how you reacted when Dean came in. You looked like a kicked puppy. Don't tell me it's nothing, kiddo."

In the time you had known Jack, you had grown to care for him deeply. You had always wanted kids, but in this life, it wasn't possible. Well, it was, but you knew you didn't want your children to do what you do. So when Jack was born, you felt extremely happy because it felt like you finally had a child. Albeit, he did look twenty.

"Dean doesn't like me very much." He admitted.

"I'm sure that's not true. . ." You argued weakly. In all honesty, you didn't think Dean liked Jack either. It's not like he was abusive, but he did treat him differently than everyone else.

"But it is, Y/N."

"How do you know, Jack? With Dean, it takes him time to warm up to people. It took him months to actually trust me. He's a cautious person."

"Did he threaten you too?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. His head was tilted to the side, his honey blonde hair falling into his eyes. He had gotten that head tilt from Cas.

"Dean. . . Threatened you?" You whispered hoarsely.

"Yes," He nodded. "He told me if I hurt you or Sam, or anyone, that he would be the one to hunt me down and kill me."

Your mouth popped open in horror. You could never imagine your sweet, loveable, goofy Dean threatening Jack. "What else did he say, Jack? Did he say anything prior to this?"

"He said that he doesn't think that I can be saved. He said that even though you and Sam think that I can, that he doesn't."

"Jack, you don't need to be saved. There is no saving to do. You are a good kid. You would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone. I'm so sorry. I should have been there." You sigh.

"He's not wrong, Y/N. I can't be saved. What if I turn out like my father, my real father."

You frowned as you cupped his face in your hands. "Jack, you are nothing, and I mean nothing, like Lucifer. You are just like your mother. You are sweet, caring, and you are empathetic. Just like Kelly."

"You really believe that?" He whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

"No, I don't believe it, Jack. I know it. You are nothing like Lucifer. If anything, you are much more like Castiel."

"Really?" He smiled.

"Yeah," You nodded. "You see, I don't know if you know this, but Cas does this little thing where he tilts his head to the side if he doesn't understand something or if he's perplexed. And I noticed that you do the same thing." Jack's smile widened as you removed your hands from his face. "And neither of you have any knowledge of pop culture. Even though Cas was here for a lot longer than you, he never understood a single reference any of us made. Even if it was something like Scooby Doo." You giggled, feeling your throat tightening at the thought of your dead friend. "And you two state the obvious a lot. Not in a bad way, more in a comedic way. It lightens the mood nearly every time. Cas would rarely smile. When I asked him why, he would say that the world was going to hell and he didn't have anything to smile about. But when he did smile, it would make everyone else smile with him. The same goes for you. Just seeing that little toothy grin of yours makes me smile. I mean hell, you two even look a lot alike."

"Could you tell me more about him?" Jack asked.

"Of course, but I have something to take care of first. Then you and I will cuddle up and watch a movie and I'll tell you everything you want to know about Cas, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." He spoke. "Before you go, could I ask you something?" You nodded. "If I were to have a mother figure, and I called her mom, do you think my mother would be upset?"

"No, sweetheart, I don't think she would be upset. I think that she would be happy that there's someone down here taking care of you and you feel comfortable enough to call them mom." You said, completely oblivious as to what Jack was suggesting.

"Then. . . Could I call you mom?"

You felt the air leave your lungs as his words hit you like a truck. Jack watched as tears welled up in your eyes. Jack was horrified; he had never meant to make you cry. "Yo-you want to call me m-mom?" You stammer.

"If you're not comfortable with it I understand. I'm sorry, Y/N, I-"

You cut him off with a tight embrace. "Of course you can call me mom." You whisper, squeezing the boy tightly.

"Why are you crying?" He questioned.

"These are happy tears, Jack. I'm not upset. It's just. . . I never thought that I would have children, but then you came along, and you gave me what I wanted. You gave me a chance to be a mother."

"Thank you for being here for me, mom."

You gave Jack a huge smile as you pulled away. "Okay," You said, putting a hand on his arm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with my ass of a husband."

---

"Dean Winchester," You boomed, roaming around the bunker in search for your husband.

"Ooooh, you're in trouble." You hear Sam snicker.

"But I didn't do anything. Wait, what day is it?" Dean asked frantically.

"April ninth." Sam quipped.

"Okay, no birthday, no anniversary, so there's that."

You entered The Dean Cave, as Dean called it, seeing red. "What the hell, Winchester." You growled. "Sam, out. Now."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Sam said, grabbing his bowl of popcorn and walking out of the room.

"Yes, darling, sweetheart, love of my life. What can I do for you?" Dean spoke sweetly, giving you those stupid, green doe eyes.

"Jack told me." You said simply. "He told me what you said to him. That if it comes down to killing him, that you would be the one to do it. That there was no saving him."

"Y/N, you have to understand where I'm coming from." He tried to reason with you. "You should have seen him. He was stabbing himself with a knife! And it closed up like it was nothing! It's not normal. He's not normal."

"And?! None of us are normal, Dean. We've all died and came back to life. Sam didn't have a soul, he was hooked on demon blood, yet you were still there for him. You still believed in him. You died and became a demon, you bore the Mark of Cain and had a thing for God's friggin sister! And I still loved you through it. I have been brainwashed and manipulated into hurting all of you, and you still forgave me! Cas betrayed us, and we were still there for him. None of us are fucking normal! So what the hell, Dean? You're holding a grudge against Jack just because of who his dad is?"

"His father is Lucifer, Y/N!"

"Well that's stating the goddamn obvious!" You yelled.

"He could turn on us at any moment! We don't know this kid. We don't know what he can do."

"So we learn, Dean! We should help him figure out his way. Guide him in the right direction. Show him what a true, loving family looks like!"

"We are not his family, Y/N! And he's not our family. He never will be." Dean argued.

You flinched back, glaring at Dean. "How dare you! You son of a bitch! Whether you believe it or not, Jack is family. To me and to Sam. We care about him and love him!"

"He doesn't even know what love means!"

"Yes, he does! Because he feels things, Dean. He cares. He cares about all of us, including you. You know, he asked me if he could call me mom today. Did you know that? He trusts me and cares for me so much that he sees me as a mother figure."

"He's got you brainwashed, Y/N! Can't you see that?!"

"If he looked like his actual age, would you be acting like this?"

"What kind of question is that." He scoffed.

"If Jack looked four months old instead of twenty, would you still be treating him like this?" You asked steadily. Dean remained silent. "See! He is four months old, no matter how old he looks, he's still a baby."

"So, what, you want me to change his diaper or some shit?"

"No! I want you to treat him like a human being!" You yelled.

"But he's not human!"

You and Dean stood your ground, neither of you letting up. "Fine. I'm leaving then. And I'm taking Jack with me."

"No, you're not."

"Fucking watch me, Dean. I can't even look at you right now. Because you are not the man I married. That man was compassionate and caring. This one isn't. And until he comes back, I'm staying away." You cried.

Before Dean could get another word out, you left the den. You noticed that Sam was standing in the hallway, giving you a saddened look. "You're really leaving?"

"I'm sorry, Sam." You sobbed. "But I can't be around him right now. And I don't think Jack should be either. We're going to my parents house for a while. And until he gets his shit together, I'm not coming back.

"I know. I don't understand why Dean is acting like this." He mumbled.

"I don't either. It's so unlike him." You agreed.

"So what are you going to tell Jack?"

"Just that we're going to take a little road trip and visit my parents. I don't know, Sam, this whole thing is so strange to me. But I know have to go."

Sam frowned as he pulled you into a hug. "I'm really going to miss you. But you do what you need to do. And if you ever need anything, you call me, okay? I don't care what time of day it is, call me."

"I will." You squeeze Sam tightly. "Thank you for being an amazing brother and best friend." You pulled away, teary eyed as you parted from your brother in law. "I hope to be back soon."

You softly knocked on Jack's door before entering. "Hey, Jack." You smiled.

"Mom!" He said excitedly. "Are we going to watch movies now?"

"Actually, there's been a change of plans. Me and you are going on a road trip to visit my parents."

"Really? Are Sam and Dean coming with us?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. "No, actually. This is a trip just for us. Sam and Dean wanted to stay here just in case they find a case or something that can get Mary back from apocalypse world. So I'm going to help you pack and then we can get on the road."

---

You had sent Jack to your car, having him put everything in the trunk while you finished up things in the bunker. The last thing you grabbed was a machete that belonged to your father before he gave it to you.

"Don't go." A voice whispered. You turned to see Dean, who looked like he had been crying. "Please don't leave."

You swallowed hard, feeling tears rush to your eyes once more. "Will you accept Jack as family?"

"Y/N-" Dean said, exasperated. "He can stayed here but he's not family."

"That's not good enough, Dean. Because I know how you act around people you don't trust."

"You can't force me to trust him." Dean scoffed.

"That's not what I want. I want you to get to know him. I want you to try."

"Y/N. . . I just. . . I can't."

"I think. . . I think we need time apart." You mumbled.

"Y/N, please –"

"Only for a little bit." You assured him. "They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all." You gave him a sad smile, trying to control your tears.

You turned to leave before Dean's voice stopped you. "If you leave, then we're over. That's it. Don't bother coming home."

You sighed as you looked back at Dean. You cupped his face in your hands and gave him a slow, sensual kiss. You could feel salty tears on your lips as you memorized how Dean's mouth felt against yours. It was warm and soft. You could taste the remnants whiskey on his breath.

You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead on Dean's. You felt tears streaming down your face as you looked the man you had grown to love over the past ten years. You had been through hell and back, literally. You had lost each other, fell out of love and back in love.

"This isn't goodbye, Dean." You whimpered. "I swear it isn't. I love you with every part of my soul. I'm not choosing Jack over you, okay? I just need time. I need you to wait for me."

"That's all I've ever done, Y/N." Dean shook his head. "I waited on you when you were in relationships, when you were heartbroken, when your sister died, I waited on you to love me back. I'm tired of waiting. I will always love you, and you'll always be with me. You've changed me, and I'm so thankful for it. You've made me a better man. But I can't. . . I can't keep doing this, Y/N." He whispered as he slipped off his wedding band. "This is goodbye." He set the ring in your hand, curling your fingers around it. "Goodbye, sweetheart." He gave you one final kiss. But this one was rough and full of passion. It really was goodbye.

"Dean, please." You cried. He pressed a swift kiss to the crown of your head before leaving you standing alone in the library. Sobs racked through your body as you clutched Dean's ring to your chest. "Please come back." You whispered.

You wiped your face of tears and stuck Dean's ring in your pocket. There would be time for tears later. Right now you just needed to get out of the bunker. As you looked around the library, you realized you had never felt this alone.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x wife!reader #supernatural #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #jack kline #sam winchester #castiel #season 12 #dean winchester angst

463 notes · View notes

random-imagines-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Just in Your Heart {Taylor Swift x ChubbyMale!Reader}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 2114 Summary: After five years of dating, you’re finally thinking of making it social-media official. Warnings: Fat shaming.

You weren’t the sort of person that most people would picture Miss Americana herself to date. Taylor Swift had gone out with some of the best looking, or at least according to the media’s standards best looking - men in the world. You didn’t need to go over them. The tabloids did that enough for you on a daily basis. But the point was that you were the opposite of a lot of these men. You weren’t in the entertainment industry. You weren’t rich. You weren’t famous. You didn’t have a six pack or a chiseled chest or that rugged jaw line or any of those things. You had worked your way up to being a curator at a Museum in New York - not one of the biggest ones, mind you, but big enough to where you always had a lot on your plate. You were overweight according to your doctor though you ate healthy and tried to get lots of exercise. And you had next to no social media presence, only followed by your friends and family - not even Taylor as for the most part, you both agreed on keeping you out of the spotlight, much as that sometimes hurt. But then again - you both had been together for five years now, and you weren’t being picked apart by the media. That was nice.

“Do you think that this is folded in enough? I always think of that scene in Sleeping Beauty where they actually fold them in,” Taylor laughed, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you had stopped at the grocery store to get the ingredients for baking night, you of course had seen Taylor on the magazines. Stepping out with new ‘mystery man’ it had reported. It was only her new bodyguard and would be forgotten in a week or so but it was still a bit annoying to be surrounded by rumors of your own girlfriend.

“Yeah, that looks good babe,” You’d say, looking into her bowl. It was cake night in your shared apartment. The whole quarantine thing had the both of you at home a lot more, though you did still have to go to work, so you were trying new hobbies. Baking had been Taylor’s idea, and it was something you had shot down at first considering your weight, but she was so insistant. She had given you those puppy dog eyes you couldn’t resist. Those baby blues had you saying yes every time. “No shells this time?”

“Oh my god, it was one time, let it go,” Taylor laughed, going for the next couple of ingredients. “I don’t think that you put enough chocolate in yours.”

“It’s a light chocolate cake, not a Devil’s Food Cake. I’m still watching my weight, remember?” You kept on whipping the eggs until they were light and fluffy, and then finally folded your own into the rest of the mixture. “This will probably be my lunch tomorrow,” You joked.

“I’ll make you something, don’t worry,” She said, putting a kiss on your cheek, transferring a bit of flour that she had on her nose onto your skin. You laughed and wiped it off. “What were you thinking about?”

“Saw you on the cover of another magazine today,” You said, slipping behind her, taking the chance to run your hands across her waist as you went to grab one of the cake pans you already prepped. “They’re thinking that Greg is your new boyfriend. It’s really throwing them off that you’re not out there dating openly anymore.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious. I’m sure his wife is going to love that,” Taylor laughed, not taking it seriously. Being in the industry since she was a teenager meant that she had to develop that tough skin. You loved that about her. You only wished that you had been able to do that yourself. “Oh, let’s take a picture before we pop these into the oven.”

Always the change of subject. But you gave in, as you always did, giving her a little nod. She pulled out her phone, turned the front camera on, and snapped a picture of her kissing your cheek while the full cake pans were waiting on the counter. You were grinning, you couldn’t help it. Every time that this wonderful, beautiful woman gave you attention, you were fawning for it. You couldn’t wait to make her your wife. Just a little longer. Just getting the ring sized.

And then the pans went into the oven, and you settled back down on the couch, looking for something to watch while waiting for the timers. Taylor went straight to Law and Order. Of course. You even bobbed your head to the theme tune. Her favorite show in the whole world. She cuddled up to you, hand and head resting on your barrel-like chest. When she touched you like this, it was hard to feel insecure. And the way that she looked up at you whenever the screen went dark between scenes - still made you feel like blushing to this day.

Once the timer went off, cake out of the oven, it was the only part of this whole baking thing that you really enjoyed. Decorating. Tongue in cheek, going over the layers with the icing that you had managed to make look tie-dye with different colors. “What do you think, fruit maybe? Some whipped cream?” You looked over to see what she was doing, only to see that she was literally throwing sprinkles on top of the icing. Making a huge mess, but it was cute to see her looking so joyous.

“Whatever you want,” She’d say, bending low, turning the plate to see the other side of the cake, and then threw even more sprinkles. One thing could be said for her method - she was thorough. There was hardly an inch on it that was untouched. You looked back at your own which was looking plain in comparison, and started chopping up some fruit to put on the top. At least give some semblance of it being healthy. That way you wouldn’t feel as guilty when you went to the doctor next and explained what you’ve been eating. “I can’t wait to try yours,” Taylor said, sticking a finger in your spare icing and dabbed some of it on the tip of your nose with a giggle. Her eyes were lit up from the inside out. She looked happy. Truly happy. “Can we take another photo?”

“Can I at least get this off of my nose first?” You laughed. She shook her head no, and this time in the photo, she was licking it right off of you, the cakes on full display in front of you. Your face was scrunched up from the attention on your nose, which made her laugh when she saw it.

“This is really cute. I might even post it,” She teased, tongue in cheek.

“Doubtful,” You chuckled, and grabbed a knife to make the first cuts.

“No, really,” She said, leaning against the counter, looking at the picture on her phone. “We’ve been together five years now and I haven’t really been able to tell anyone but our close friends and family.”

“Does anyone else matter?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone that I care about knows about you. Why does the whole world?”

“I just - I don’t want you to feel like I’m ashamed of you when I’m not. I’d love to start posting pictures of us, like normal couples do.”

“We’re not a normal couple,” You pointed out. She was pouting again, but this time it didn’t look like she was trying to get what she wanted. She looked genuinely upset. You watched her for a minute as she dropped a couple more sprinkles on spots that she missed, trying to keep her hands busy. “Okay. Fine. You can post one tomorrow if you really want. But can we just relax tonight?”

“Okay,” She said, tucking a long blonde piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. She looked happy again. And that’s the way that you wanted to keep her forever.

Your phone was left in your office for most of the day while you were working on the usual day-to-day activities of the museum. You had forgotten your little agreement with Taylor the night before, having settled back in for a night of watching Olivia Benson on the television solving cases.

So when you finally had a chance to sit down and look at your phone, you were surprised to see that it was dead. You plugged it into your spare charger only for it to turn on and have hundreds - maybe even more notifications. You had to quickly go into your settings and try to turn them off so that you could have a breath. That was when you remembered, and immediately opened up instagram. 2.6 million follow requests. Jesus. At least your account was on private, who knows what they would have done if they had been able to go thorugh your photos and comment on them.

You’d leave those for another time to deal with. The next time that you were taking the subway and had nothing else better to do. But for now, you went to Taylor’s profile, where you were one of her millions of followers, never anything special until now. The two pictures from the night before, kissing and silly icing on your nose. ‘#bakingwithboyfriend.’

Over three million likes. Comments galore. And most of them were not of the nice and supportive kind.

‘Oh my god, is this some body positivity stunt?’ 'This is literally like three of her exes put together, weightwise. ‘ 'Must be really rich or have great dick’

There were other ones that were much more rude, but you weren’t going to go through them. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. You put the phone back down, face down so that you wouldn’t have to look at it, or at the very least be a lot less tempted.

“Mr y/l/n,” Your assistant said, poking his head into the office. His face was looking flushed, so that already gave you an idea of what was going on. He already knew about your relationship, but that didn’t stop him from having fan-boy moments whenever Taylor came in. “She’s here to see you.”

“She can come in,” You said with a nod. He popped his head back out and the tall, lithe figure of Taylor, as dressed down as she could be, walked into the stuffy room. She smiled nervously and sat down across from you in the spot where donors or assistants usually would sit.

“You saw those comments, didn’t you?” Taylor said. You simply nodded. “I already talked to my publicist and we’re going to be taking comments off all of my posts. It isn’t right. Any of it.”

“Can’t say that it wasn’t expected though,” You admitted, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not Styles or Hiddleston.”

“That’s why I love you,” Taylor insisted. “You’re not any of those men, you’re you. They’ve got nothing, nothing at all, on you.”

“But I’m apparently three of them,” You laughed humorlessly. “Look, I knew what I was getting into by falling in love with you. I can accept it. Just sucks that the day had come after all.”

Taylor was quiet for a moment, but then she leaned forward over the desk, and took hold of your hands, giving them a squeeze with her well manicured fingers. “You’re everything to me, y/n. And I just want to show you that. I want to show the whole world that.”

“I know. I know,” You breathed out with a sigh. “Were any of the comments good?”

“Selena is going apeshit in the comments. Or at least she was while I was on the way here. Threatening to fight some of the people saying the worst things but I already deleted most of the really bad ones. I have my publicist on it. Some of them were really positive though. You’re really handsome. Some of them are threatening to come after you when we break up.”

“Ha, like that’s ever going to happen,” You said, shaking your head. “You’re it for me, baby.”

“You’re it for me too,” Taylor said, raising your hands up to kiss the tops of them. Your unmusical hands. “So - are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll get over it. I guess. More incentive to go to the gym maybe. Gotta show your millions of fans that you can still get a buff guy after all.”

“Don’t change yourself too much,” She’d say, smiling. “You’re perfect. Completely and utterly ... perfect.”

#Taylor Swift #Taylor Swift x reader #Taylor Swift oneshot #celebrity #celebrity oneshot #onreshot #one shot #request #x reader #taylors

126 notes · View notes

slasherbastard · 4 years ago

Note

Could you please place my order but if it is too complicated you can disregard it.

Imagine that the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) come home or something and see their beloved's best friend declaring that he misses her and that he loves her, then that friend gives him a kiss on the mouth {for demonstrate your love}.

What would be the boys' reaction to seeing this scene? And what will happen next?

thank you for the request! i’ve been wanting to write this request out ever since i got it, also a quick warning for non-consensual kissing

(gif credit: thepumpkin-queenn)

Michael Myers

Yet another quiet night spent waiting for Michael to return from his 'night job' and you were spending this lonely night watching horror movies like you usually did. The character wandered around in the dark helplessly trying to distance herself from the killer and just as the killer jumped out, there a knock on the front door. You jumped up and turned to the door and checked the time, Michael wasn't meant to be home for a few more hours. Suspicious, you grabbed the knife sitting on the coffee table - Michael taught you how to defend yourself although he still worries you'll end up stabbing yourself instead of any intruders - and creeped up to the door, you knew Michael wasn't one for knocking and usually just barged in since you always left the door unlocked for him.

As you got closer you could hear talking. "- Shit what if I got the wrong address? Y/N? Hello? It's me, Y/F/N!" You froze and dropped the knife, you haven't heard from this guy in years, how did he find you? You quickly picked the knife back up and slid it into the waistband of your jeans just in case and opened the door, and yeah it was him alright. "Y/N? It's really you?" Without warning he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug which you returned, the two of you broke apart and your friend let himself past you into the house, you weren't planning on doing anything because you knew Michael wouldn't forgive you but you were still worried about what would happen if he came home to find this complete stranger in his house.

"Y/F/N, I hope I don't sound mean but what are you doing here?" "I wanted to do this" He pulled you in and kissed you, smiling as he pulled away but that smile faded as he realised you weren't even looking at him. "What is it, Y/N?" He said amusingly as he followed your eyes and turned around to see what you were looking at, only to be stabbed in the chest by the infamous Shape, Michael Myers. Michael removed the knife and watched Y/F/N fall to the ground, calling for your help before passing out. Michael slammed the door and stared back at you waiting for an explanation to what he just witnessed.

"I swear I didn't kiss him back. He just found out where I was living, came in and kissed me." The words felt like a lie as they passed your lips but you weren't lying. You were scared Michael was going to kill you as well but instead he just stood there and continued to stare. "I don't have feelings for him, he was just an old friend from school." You heard a grunt coming from behind the mask as he approached the body and picked it up before disappearing outside with it. You yourself decided to disappear upstairs and go to bed.

You waited and waited for Michael to join you but he never did. At one point you got tired of waiting and got tired in general and decided to just call it a night and fall asleep and if you got stabbed mid-dream then at least it would most likely hurt less. At one point you woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone shuffling into the room and the creaking of the floor. You lazily turned to just see Michael in your view and yawned as you sat up and switched on the lamp beside you, he was taking off his coveralls which looked a little more bloodier than usual which did raise a few questions that you were too tired and too concerned to ask, but there was one question you felt like you had to ask.

"Do you hate me?" Michael looked over at you and tilted his head in confusion as his bloody clothes fell to the floor and he slid on a different t-shirt. "I swear he just kissed me but I didn't kiss back. Do you hate me?" Michael didn't move for a few moments but eventually he removed his mask and shook his head, then he got into bed and pulled you into his body. You turned off the lamp as he lazily played with your hair. You felt like he was still mad at you to some extent, but knowing that he decided to let you live another day was a relief.

(gif credit: vhs-ninja)

Jason Voorhees

Sometimes it got very lonely at Camp Crystal Lake, as much as you loved Jason you also missed a lot of your friends and family who you never got to see since Jason hated being away from you and he also hated letting people leave the campsite alive. Sometimes you'd bring up letting a friend visit for just the day but Jason would always either shake his head or sign "No." at you. Jason felt a bit guilty for saying no but he was afraid of losing you and just knowing that there were people out there who were 1000% better than he was made him want to shrivel up at the bottom of the lake.

As worried as he is, he trusts you a lot so he waited until you were ready to ask the question and signed "Yes." before you could even say it. Your smile warmed his heart and he knew that you had no ill intentions with this friend of yours, the only thing that saddened Jason was that he couldn't meet this friend of yours and would have to hide - or in this case, lurk in the background just in case.

Jason couldn't help but feel a bad vibe from that friend of yours but he didn't want to ruin the moment so he just watched from behind a few trees. Everything was fine, you and your friend were sitting on the pier with your feet dangling over the lake, just talking about drama you missed in your hometown. "So, what's with you living on this campsite?" "Oh I don't live here. My house is through that forest-y area over there, I just like coming here to clear my mind."

"Can we go back to your place?" "Oh, I didn't finish cleaning. Lets just stay here for a while" you lied but your friend was already getting up and walking around so you followed him, hopping as you tried to keep up with him as you slipped your shoes back on. You were hesitant but guided him to the old cabin you and Jason were still revamping in the middle of the woods. You looked up and noticed Jason peaking out from behind a bush and subtly nodded at him as reassurance at everything was okay.

You were making lunch for the two of you when you noticed your friend sneaking looks at you through the reflection in the window in front of you but thought nothing of it. You looked past the reflection of your friend's face and out the window to see Jason was staring at you again, you smiled and signed "I am okay." at him, only seconds later your friend was behind you. He grabbed you and turned you around. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time." He paused before going in to kiss you softly.

Jason wasn't happy, watching the scene take place, he was at the cabin and before you knew it, Jason's machete's was lodged into your friend's skull and then he was dead. At that point you were worried that Jason had lost all trust in you and was probably going to kill you as he took a step closer to you and grabbed you but instead he pulled you in and enveloped your body into his and you began to cry and endlessly apologise.

A long night of cuddling and reassurance will fix it. Jason got rid of the body long ago and made you tea immediately after that. "I'm sorry." You signed at Jason. "For what? It was his fault and I know you'd never do that." It was comforting to know that Jason didn't hate you or blame you for it. Sure you were sad that one of your close friends was dead but you were also relieved that Jason was there to help.

(gif credit: prurientpuddlejumper)

Brahms Heelshire

"No, No guests allowed! That's the rules!" Brahms angrily growled. "Oh please Brahms, I haven't seen him in forever, he's just a friend from my hometown. We're strictly friends." Brahms stubbornly shook his head and stomped off leaving you alone. You groaned in annoyance and continued working on cooking dinner. A friend from your old town was in the UK for some business and wanted to come visit for a few hours but Brahms was very serious about his rules and his feelings for you - especially the rules. You knew Brahms wasn't going to follow through and let this stranger into his home but at least you tried.

During dinner Brahms spoke up, "Fine. But only for an hour." You looked up at Brahms who was clearly avoiding your gaze. "Really?" He nodded and you smiled, thanking him and going back to eating "- If you give me two goodnight kisses every night this month." You laughed and agreed to it, too excited to see Y/F/N. You called him immediately after dinner while Brahms quietly listened to the conversation through the phone, still very jealous but also trying to test you to see if you really were loyal enough to not cheat on him.

The day Y/F/N was supposed to be visiting, Brahms stayed hidden in the walls and watched as you nervously paced around near the front door waiting for Y/F/N's car to pull up. When he showed up, Brahms watched as you both excitedly hugged and talked about how much you both missed each other, you looked so happy. Usually Brahms loved seeing you smile but mostly when he was the reason you were smiling, not whoever this 'Y/F/N' is. Brahms stomping around could be heard from outside the walls where you and your friend were talking who was obviously curious about it. "There's rats in the walls, I have to clean the traps out every morning."

The hour came to an end before the three of you knew it and you were getting ready to say bye to Y/F/N. "Y/N? Before I leave I wanted to ask you something." You nodded and he put down his bag. "We've been friends for like what, 3 years, has it been? I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. I know I have a girlfriend already but things haven't been going well for us and-" Y/F/N's voice was drowned out by your thoughts, you knew Brahms was listening and you were very worried that he was going to get the wrong idea very quickly.

"Uh Y/F/N I-" He cut you off by kissing you. It all happened so quickly that you didn't have time to process it before you pushed him off you and backed away from him by a few steps. "Y/F/N, I- I can't. I have a boyfriend." he looked confused and ran a hand through his hair. "I think you should leave." You muttered just loud enough for him to hear but he didn't move. "Y/N I thought we had something. I saw the way you used to look at me and-" "Yes, USED to. Just leave." Y/F/N looked like he was about to say something but instead he grabbed his bag and pushed past you. You waited a few seconds before hearing a scream coming from the parlour and ran over to see Brahms choking Y/F/N out on the floor.

"My Y/N! They are Mine! Not yours!" You watched as Brahms choked out your friend and waited for him to see you standing there. Y/F/N fell to the floor and Brahms turned to you. "Promise me that you don't love him." Brahms began making his way towards you. "I don't love him. I love you, Brahms." You couldn't see Brahms' real expression through that porcelain mask of his. "I promise I love you, so much more than I could ever love him." Brahms craned his neck to the side and tilted his head so he was almost at your level, pressing those porcelain lips against yours, which you kissed back in an instant.

(gif credit: thatmyerschick21)

Bo Sinclair

Bo is very possessive of you and will not let anybody else touch you, not even his brothers of course. When you came in contact with an old friend they were desperate to reunite with you and begged to see you but Bo never lets you leave Ambrose. Hell, he won't even let you out of his sight most of the time, so you had two more choices - you could either reject the idea of seeing your friend, or you could bring them to Ambrose and just pray that Bo doesn't get too jealous. When you finally built up the courage to ask Bo if a friend could visit and hopefully leave the town alive he happily obliged which was a surprise but you decided not to question it too much.

While Y/F/N is around, Bo is way more touchy. Bo will grab your ass out of nowhere and stand a little too close to you, sometimes he'll even pull you away from a conversation just to kiss you before going back to doing whatever he was doing. You knew Bo was definitely jealous and as fun as it could be to mess with him it was also dangerous. After some persuading, you finally managed to get Bo to leave the two of you alone at the house - he needed to work on his truck anyways.

Bo wasn't happy with leaving you with this random guy but he trusted that you wouldn't pull anything. You and your friend spent the rest of the day just talking and catching up, you weren't sure what Bo was so worried about - you began sneaking quick glances at the window to make sure that he wasn't standing there watching the two of you. The day was coming to an end and plans changed when Y/F/N decided to leave only to realise that his car wasn't starting and Bo was nowhere to be seen.

Having no other choice, Y/F/N decided to stay the night. You set up his makeshift bed on the couch and decided to watch a movie since Bo wasn't back yet. At first you two were just sitting together but eventually you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder as you began to get more and more tired. "Hey, Y/N?" Y/F/N whispered, not sure if you were still awake or not. You looked up at him and before you could process anything his lips were on yours. You tried to pull away but he was starting to get more aggressive, tugging at your shirt in a lousy attempt to rip the fabric as you continued trying to push him off of you.

"Hey what the fuck is this?" Y/F/N jumped off the couch and Bo was standing there, he was so red you'd mistake him for the devil. It was quick but Bo managed to grab your friend and begin beating the crap out of him while you yelled and begged him to stop - which was useless. Once Bo was sure that your friend wasn't breathing he stopped and looked at you. "You're welcome." He said bluntly before giving your friend's body one last kick in the side and throwing it over his shoulder and taking it outside.

Obviously you were nervous, was Bo going to punish you? How much of that did he see? Did he see Y/F/N come onto you or did he just assume you were cheating on him? You were a little scared and tried to wait up for Bo but you were tired and thought about calling it a night but suddenly you weren't so tired. You wanted to melt into Bo's touch but you knew he was pissed at you so you decided that going to bed was a good idea, even if that meant not actually sleeping and just staring at the ceiling until the sun blinded you.

When you woke up the next morning you were expecting Bo to either start an argument or take you to one of the few buildings in town to admire Vincent's newest work, but then it came to your attention that he'd gotten his brother Lester to dump your friend's body in the pit outside of town. As inhumane as it sounded - ignoring the fact that your boyfriend is a murderer - you weren't upset, you were glad that Y/F/N got what he deserved and Bo was glad that you felt the same way. Yes, Bo was still very annoyed but he knew it wasn't your fault.

(gif credit: stabhappyslashers)

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent definitely wasn't thrilled about the idea of a friend visiting because he was scared of losing you. No matter how many times you told Vincent you'd never leave him he never fully believed you. Sure, you're a very open minded and friendly person who managed to love him for how he looks and his job but that didn't mean that you would stay with him forever - you were bound to find someone better than him.

After a lot of coaxing and promising, Vincent finally gave in and allowed you to let your friend visit as long as you told your friend that you were in a relationship and as long as Vincent didn't have to meet this friend of yours - but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on the two of you. He watched as you both walked around town and visited the House of Wax. Vincent found himself peering at the two of you from one of the windows on the outside.

"This place is weird. Why would you want to live in an abandoned town, anyways?" Y/F/N said, obviously very creeped out as he poked at one of the wax figures. "You've always been into a lot of weird shit, I see you haven't changed since high school." He half joked causing you to playfully roll your eyes and look at him. You were very much aware that Vincent was watching. "I'm not alone. I live here with my boyfriend."

"What boyfriend? This entire time I've been here, he hasn't shown up. I'm starting to think you're just playing hard to get." You felt sick. "W-Well, he's busy, he works and stuff." Y/F/N got closer. "What does this boyfriend of yours do?" He placed his hand on yours and you swore you heard something coming from below the two of you but Y/F/N was too focused on you to even react.

"Y/F/N, I'm serious." "So am I." He tried to kiss you but you shoved him back, knocking him into one of the figures which shattered on the floor, broken wax and bone fragments dumped on the floor. Your friend saw this and widened his eyes as he looked back at you and began to crawl away from you. "What the fuck is this? Is this a joke?" By now you were crying but your breath hitched in your throat as you saw Vincent creeping up behind Y/F/N holding two knives. You didn't speak as Y/F/N continued his rant and tried to get away from you while paying no attention to your boyfriend.

Long story short, somebody had to replace that broken wax figure and Y/F/N's visit couldn't have been anymore perfect. Vincent was upset about what'd happened but he was just glad that you were still with him even after all that. He didn't fully understand how you could still love him after that but you did and that was good enough for him.

231 notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 4 years ago

Text

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd.

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it

word count: 4k

music recs:

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson.

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope.

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before.

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty.

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?”

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence.

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt.

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?”

“Draco!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place.

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table.

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set.

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly.

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself.

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

His hand, warm and soft, reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone.

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted.

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in.

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest.

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her.

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears.

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat.

“As friends,” she said.

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.”

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts.

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything.

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.”

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him.

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.”

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

“Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again.

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin.

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.”

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.”

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her.

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job.

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said.

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco #draco malfoy #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

110 notes · View notes

maskeraith · 3 years ago

Note

can you explain what crumbs you've gathered what's Kris like to you

I am full on rambling in this post so watch out

at the end of chapter 1 you gather a lot of info on what people think of Kris and the kind of things they did before we took control, stuff like bath bombs in the toilet, pranking Noelle pretending they were bleeding when it was just ketchup, and so on. So we know they're a pretty naughty kid all round. Monster Kid does seem to consider them a friend, and Noelle still likes Kris and would be happy to have them on her group project. Berdly also says stuff like he's always seen potential in Kris in Ch2, and Alphys talks to them a lot. So I don't think they're really disliked, exactly, just that they have a bit of a reputation if that makes sense? As a bit of a weird troublemaker but not like a Bad Kid, like people think of Suzie. But though I do think they have friends, I don't think they have close friends, if that makes sense, that's the impression all the clues give to me.

Another place we can get lots of info on Kris is Queen's room for them, where she takes the character's searchs and give them cool stuff based on them. So Kris searched how to make a bath bomb (for pranks), something we already knew about. Kris searched for jello knives which I think is just a funny reference to those make a knife out of anything vids, but it kind of shows they spend a lot of time online watching vids and stuff. They have searched for piano tutorials (I'll come back to that), and they have searched for the date of college summer holiday, which clearly shows they love their brother Asriel and miss him to me.

We can gain a lot more from how Kris reacts to our decisions. Just in case you didn't know, the most popular and imo almost certainly correct theory is that we The Player are Literally controlling Kris' actions, and they have no control over what we are making them do. However, Kris reacts a lot to what we make them do! One of the first decisions we can make in Ch2 is to steal 5 bucks from Asriel, and if you do it specifically describes Kris feeling reluctant to do so. Kris definitely loves and misses Asriel a lot, and though they're a naughty kid they don't want to really upset their loved ones at all.

The most prominant moment of Kris being their own character is right after Spamton Neo, where Suzie asks if Kris is ok. If you choose no, Kris actually screams the answer, they're super shaken by the whole event. If you say yes, though, we get a different moment where I guess we've forced them to play it cool when really they want to scream that they're not okay, but Suzie still catches onto this. She can tell they're not okay, and being Suzie she is rude and insulting, but in an effort to cheer them up, and it works, and Kris smiles! Even though I don't like forcing Kris to bottle up their emotions I love this moment, to me it shows how much they actually truly like Suzie for who she is.

We see other moments of Kris demonstrating how much they care about Suzie, too - whenever Monster Kid and that snowflake kid are rude about her in front of them, they comment on how angry and upset they look. We know from all this that the real Kris really does consider Suzie a best friend! And the You Teas are a very interesting source of info too - when Kris drinks Suzie Tea, they recover 120hp, which shows they REALLY like the tea. Interestingly, Noelle Tea heals 70hp, and Ralsei tea only heals 60hp, so they don't like those two as much as Suzie, and actually like Ralsei the LEAST, which I don't actually have any clue why that might be - they made friends and bonded with Suzie and Ralsei at pretty much the same rate in Ch1, so ??

Maybe it's something to do with what Ralsei is telling them when we switch to Suzie's perspective. Another popular theory is that Ralsei is aware of the player watching them, so when he makes the perspective shift he's making time to talk to Kris without us watching. Maybe Kris does NOT like what Ralsei is telling them, or they trust Ralsei less because of that behaviour? I can't think of another reason they wouldn't like Ralsei that much, unless his personality is just something Kris naturally doesn't get along with, i guess?

Back to the piano thing - Kris knows how to play the piano, and gets uspet when we try to make them play the paino because they can't actually do it properly under our control. The lack of piano in Toriel's house, and Kris' internet searches for piano tutorials, makes me think they're entirely self-taught, so I think they can really dedicate themself to things they care about.

So the picture I have of Kris is that of a weird kid, bit of a loner, no one really gets them. But as soon as Suzie came along, someone who DOES get them, they've become a fiercely loyal friend to her. Based on the frequency of Kris trying to put their own spin against whatever option you choose, I think they're a super independant person, and they do NOT like being under our control.

One particular moment that I always think about it when you try to look into Asriel's room in Queen's castle, Kris closes their eyes and so you see nothing. We know how much they love Asriel, so why would they do this? My theory is there's something in there that Kris does not want you the player to see, I think they're very specifically working against your control, subtly when they can.

And finally we get to the moments Kris rips their (your) soul out and regains control. Obviously they do some Bad Stuff during these times, as in they open up another dark world, which could lead to the destruction of the whole world, and probably slash Toriel's tyres which is like quite a bit worse than just Naughty Kid. But based on everything else in the game, every other piece of evidence we have, Kris isn't an Evil person right? So I definitely think they know a lot more than we do, and have their own goals that we can't understand just yet.

Oops long post

#deltarune spoilers #this is like a really incoherant way of answering the question but i dunno how to be concise lol #i literally just started writing all the things about Kris I could think of and didn't stop sorry #long post

26 notes · View notes

lookforanewangle · 3 years ago

Text

sweet child o’ mine || spn || 2.5k || ao3

tags: canon typical mentions of violence from the slice girls, brief mention of blood

a/n: throwing this out into the void before I inevitably get sucked back into dc stuff tomorrow, so. here you go: a quick bundle of scenes of dean and emma, and a little deancas, and a little dean and jack. takes place around a year?? after the end of s15 (minus the finale because we don't accept that as canon in this household) title is from, you guessed it, sweet child o’ mine by guns n’ roses.

also! brief mention of the leviathan takes inspo from @/demenior’s fic series the love it takes which you all should go read asap 👀

Emma shows back up on a Tuesday.

The scuffle from the direction of the War Room draws Dean’s attention away from the long list of house listings he and Cas have been going through. Find a Fixer-Upper, Cas had said. We can make it our own. Dean was all for that, but finding their house, thee house, was taking longer than he’d like.

He thought nothing of the noise at first; Eileen may have come over or Sam may have been moving around artifacts again, or maybe Cas was back from the Farmer’s Market.

At Sam’s sudden shout, however, Dean goes running.

He whirls around the corner, gun whipping up to aim at whatever threat lay ahead. Sam is on his knees, blood dripping from his nose, and there’s a girl holding a blade to his throat. There’s something familiar about her, but Dean can’t place it. He doesn’t waver in his stance.

“Who the hell are you,” he demands, “and how did you—”

Dean falters, then, memories flooding back from a one-off hunt years ago. A one night stand, a sudden surprise. He pales as her face finally clicks.

That's his daughter.

“Not another step,” she snarls, fingers fisting tight in Sam’s jacket to hold him in place. Sam shifts his hand towards his pocket, and Dean pulls himself back to the present. He moves his supporting hand away from the gun and up to the side, placating, as he slowly lowers the gun to the ground.

“Woah, no no no, hey, no one’s gonna hurt anyone,” he rushes gently, catching Sam’s gaze with a look. Don’t. He turns his gaze back to hers and sets the gun on the floor. “I’m putting the gun down. Just let him go.”

“He killed me!” she spits, blade pressing deeper against Sam’s neck. “I can still remember the look on his face, and you had a gun on me too.”

“I know,” Dean says, chest twinging at the memory, “and I regret how I acted, Emma. It’s— it’s Emma, right?”

At the mention of her name, her fingers loosen on the knife and she inhales sharp and quiet. Dean takes that as a promising sign. He exhales.

“You...you remember?” she breathes. Dean can only nod.

“If I could go back and change that day I would,” he says. He risks a half step forward. Emma straightens and retightens her fingers.

“Don’t,” she warns.

“Emma,” he says, hands still up and placating. He fights not to lunge forward and tear the knife from her grip. He takes a breath. “Please. Let him go.”

“And why should I?” she demands. “So he can kill me again?”

Sam wisely stays silent.

“He won’t, I promise you. He was pretty messed up the last time you saw him. We both were, really. But I need you to trust me,” Dean pleads. “We...we’ve changed. I know you won’t believe that, but it’s true.”

Emma says nothing, but she gazes at him intently, as if looking for the truth behind his words. Dean slowly lowers a hand out to her, facing up.

“Just give me the knife,” he continues, palm open and waiting, patient. “Please.”

She searches his face a moment more. Dean waits.

“Fine,” she says finally, and Dean can hear the tremor in her voice. She shoves the dagger hilt into Dean’s palm.

“Thank you,” Dean says, soft.

He closes his fingers around it and moves it away, placing it on the map table. Sam stands and steps out of reach, coming to a rest just to the side and behind Dean. Dean and Emma just look at each other, assessing.

"Sam, why don't you go see if Cas is back," Dean says. There's a pause. Dean can feel Sam leveling him with a look.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Dean says and spares him a quick glance and a nod. "Go on."

"All right," Sam says, hesitant. He glances between them, unsure, but he leaves them be.

"Take a seat," Dean says once Sam is out of earshot. He lowers himself into his own chair, hoping she’ll follow suit. "We have a lot to catch you up on."

“Where the hell am I?” Emma bursts, hands fisted at her sides. She doesn't sit. “What even is this place?”

“Home,” Dean says, lips quirking for a moment. He can hear the tell-tale flutter of Cas’s wings in the kitchen, arriving back from the farmer’s market, the low timbre of Sam’s voice as he speaks with him. Dean’s fingers itch for Cas, restless and wanting.

“You’re home.”

“You’re locking me up?”

“Listen, kid, I'd rather not do this, either, but you did try and kill us last time you saw us. And again today,” Dean says matter-of-factly, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

“I was ordered to slaughter you, and return with your hands and feet,” she says.

“Well, that’s gruesome,” Dean says.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she whispers, glaring at the room as if it’s a prison sentence. She doesn’t take a step forward.

“You always have a choice,” Dean counters, insistent. “Maybe not then, but you do now. We made sure of that.”

Her brows furrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“We...might have killed God,” he confesses, shrugging helplessly. “He was a dick.”

She stares at him.

“You killed...God.”

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ “It was a whole thing. Don’t worry about it.”

They stand in silence, glancing looks at one another in turn. Emma doesn’t step into the room. Dean doesn’t push. When he was younger, he may have forced her in against her will, locking the door behind him until morning and walking away from her desperate pleas to let her out. He’s grown, though. Changed. They’ve all changed, him more than most. His dad’s voice still rages in his head from time to time on the worst days, about how he’s grown soft, and wouldn’t last a day in the field.

But he’s made it this far. Their little rag tag group has beaten every adversary they’ve come across, even God, and over time they’ve all grown. They’re family.

Emma, however briefly they’ve known her so far, is family. Or she will be, if she wants to be.

Dean sighs, and strides in alone.

“Change of plans,” he says, tugging on the corner of the mattress. Emma watches him from the doorway, confused. “Help me with this, would you?”

“I don’t like this plan,” Cas says with a grumble after dinner, eyes squinted in distrust as he watches Emma from the far side of the doorway. She’s perched at Dean’s desk, flipping through the various papers and books with mild curiosity.

“I'm not locking her up, Cas,” Dean murmurs, chest panging. “We didn’t do right by her the first time around, and I’m not going to treat her like we did before. We’ve learned since then, and I’m— I’m not—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts, reaching out to grip his fingers. Dean squeezes back. “I trust you. If you think it best, then we’ll go with it. But I will be listening in case anything goes wrong.”

Dean’s chest warms.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he answers with a smile, leaning over to peck Cas’s cheek. Cas’s free hand drifts upwards, catching Dean’s jaw to tilt him down into a full kiss. Dean hums.

“Love you,” he murmurs against Cas’s lips. Cas mimics his response as he presses his nose to Dean’s and vanishes in a flutter of wings. Dean opens his eyes to Emma’s face screwed up in disgust, cringing in the chair.

“What,” he asks, challenging.

“Gross,” she comments. “Why do you kiss if you’re incapable of copulating?”

Big words for a...shit how old is she? Dean muses, brain stalling out. One? Two? How many years is that in Amazon years?

“Because we’re in love, kiddo,” he says finally, shutting the door behind him and collapsing onto his bed with a sigh. Sam will be by to lock it before bed.

“Gross.”

Dean just laughs.

“Are...are you awake?” Emma whispers into the dark, hours later. Dean shifts, turning his head towards her voice up on the bed. He refused to let her sleep on the floor, regardless of the fact they’d both be on a mattress. She doesn’t have memory foam. She deserved to experience it at least once.

“Yup,” Dean whispers back.

“Oh,” she breathes. She pauses. “I, um. I’m hungry, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she answers, hesitant. “Sorry. I know it’s bad timing.”

“Nothin’ to worry about,” Dean answers, raising himself onto his elbows to find her. She’s sat up against the headboard, knees pulled to her chest. She looks so young.

Dean’s chest pangs.

“Luckily for you,” he continues, standing and heading to his desk, “I happen to be one of the best at picking locks.”

He rifles around in the top drawer for a moment. Eventually he finds what he’s looking for and turns around with a smile, lock picks in hand.

“Have you had those the whole time?” she asks, not moving from her spot on the bed. Dean shrugs.

“Didn’t want to give you the chance to do something you may regret,” he answers. “Clearly that wasn’t something we needed to worry about though, unless you’re faking right now?” he asks, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“No.”

“Well, good on that then,” Dean answers. He waves the lockpicks in his hand.

“Ever been on a jailbreak?”

“I saw you once,” she says over a bowl of strawberry ice cream, “in Purgatory.”

“Oh,” Dean says, memories flooding back of the horrors from that long, long year. He tries to remember ever spotting a young girl in the vast, grey-colored woods. “I never saw you.”

“Good,” she says, corner of her mouth lifting up in tired amusement. “You weren’t supposed to.

“I got very good at hiding,” she continues, stirring the melted soup of her ice cream around her bowl. “I may have been bred for fighting, but some monsters are... too much for one girl to handle.”

“I, uh. I know what you mean,” Dean answers, setting down his spoon as his stomach churns at the thought of her scared and alone in Purgatory of all places. He’d seen how terrifying some of those monsters could be, the sheer magnitude of the Leviathan in particular. He’d had Benny, at least, and eventually Cas, but her on her own…

“Were you on your own the whole time?” he asks carefully. She doesn’t lift her gaze from her bowl. Dean waits.

“For the most part...yes,” she answers. “Making friends in Purgatory is, um.”

“I know,” Dean rasps. They sit in silence. Dean’s not hungry anymore.

“There were other Amazons,” she says after a while. Dean glances back up. She carefully doesn’t look at him, stirring her ice cream around and around her bowl. “We didn’t necessarily see eye to eye.”

Dean doesn't know what to say to that.

“I don’t want to be like them,” she says in a rush. She clamps her mouth shut, eyes wide with terror in her gaze, as if Dean would react poorly to her statement. Something about her fear strikes a nerve in him, reminds him too much of a little boy trying with all his might to please his father.

Dean wants to go kill a few more Amazons.

“You don’t have to be,” he reassures her. He reaches out and places a comforting hand on her wrist. She flinches at the contact, but doesn’t pull away. Dean holds. “Emma, you can be whoever you want to be. Family shouldn’t dictate who you decide to be.”

“Wasn’t your father a hunter?” she asks, wary.

“He started hunting when I was little,” Dean answers carefully, “and raised me into that. Just like you, I didn’t have a choice, then. But things have changed. They’re complicated, for sure, but I— I am not my father. You don’t have to be like your mother or sisters. Or, uh, like me either,” he says. He rubs his free hand across the back of his neck, self-conscious. He clears his throat.

“The point is,” he continues, “is that whatever you want to do and whoever you want to be is entirely up to you. You’re welcome to stay in the Bunker, if you’d like, or uh, head out on your own, I guess, if that’s what you want. I don’t want to keep you trapped here. We’re gonna get you a phone first, though, if you decide to leave. You may have shot up like a weed, but you’re still a kid, just like Jack.”

“Jack?”

“Long story,” Dean says, waving his hand as if shooing away the conversation, “you can meet him later. I just. I don’t want you to be alone, again. Not when you don’t have to be.”

“I’d like that,” she says, slow and careful, mulling over her words, “to...to stay here, I think. At least for a while.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, stress sliding away. “We’re a pretty rag-tag group of fellas. Though Eileen comes by often; you’d like her, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” she answers with a shy smile. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

She ends up in the room just down the hall from Dean. He takes her shopping the next day, much to Sam’s hesitation, but Cas only offers a knowing smile and turns back to his crossword of the day. Dean figures Cas been where Dean is now, both with Claire and Jack, to an extent. He’s gone through many similar struggles.

Now it’s Dean’s turn.

Jack confesses to being the one to bring her back.

“Almost everyone else from our family got a second chance,” he explains when Dean finally corners him later, bribing with peanut butter cookies, “I figured she should get one too, even if you barely knew her.”

“That was sweet of you, Jack,” Cas says from over Dean’s shoulder, hand slipping beneath Dean’s jacket to rest comfortingly at the small of his back. Dean leans into the gesture.

“It was,” Dean agrees. “Thank you, Jack.”

Jack beams.

When they find their fixer-upper, Dean triple-checks that there are enough rooms for everyone. One for him and Cas, one for Jack, one for Claire, one for Sam and Eileen whenever they come to visit—

And one for Emma.

She disappears for a while a month into staying with them, heading out with Claire to help figure herself out. It’s not until her first hunt (against Dean’s best wishes) where she kills for the first time that her rapid aging kicks in. She settles somewhere in the mid-twenties range; Dean doesn’t know for sure. It’s a bit too reminiscent of Jack, but they’re all used to weird magic things by now, and no one questions it.

She leaves often, these days, coming into her own over time, but Dean is proud of who she’s grown into the past few years since Jack brought her back.

She always returns home, though, and Dean welcomes her with open arms every time.

***

tagging a lovely emmanatural advocate: @borntodiedean

if you’d like to be tagged, just lmk! <3

#emma winchester #emma supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #spn fics #supernatural #supernatural fics #emma spn #lyss writes #take it I don't wanna look at it anymore #I need to read more emma fics so I can get a better grasp on her but I think I did pretty okay here #idk lemme know what you thought!!

43 notes · View notes

thefledglingdm · 3 years ago

Note

Umm can I request directors commentary for literally any Leopika fic you’ve written??? Love your stuff!

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

ahhahaha thank you so much! yes, absolutely! this is going to be long, because i have decided to do that scene in light of my life, pain of my ass. beware LONG BULLSHIT and spoilers below the cut!

ok to set the scene. i was TERRIFIED to write this part. because this is the climax, you know? we've had 150k words of build-up and emotional tension to this scene. while this has been a romantic story, this is the actual climax of the story. we've spent all this time in kurapika's head as he's dealt with his anxiety, his need for control, his fear of letting go. how he's changed as he's opened up his heart and his life to people outside. and finally he's actually working through all of his emotions and the progress he's made out loud, in front of everyone. and because he forgot about giving his speech until like five minutes before (sorry, kp), he is forced to speak from the heart.

For five agonizing seconds, Kurapika stood alone in the middle of a silent room. Above him, the string lights coalesced into a single shared point of soft white light that illuminated his space.

i so wish this could be adapted to, like, netflix or made into a movie. i put so much into this imagery. the play on light? the cinnamon topography? *chef's kiss* yes please netflix CALL ME.

Everyone in his life was staring at him expectantly, Pairo and Altair and Gon and Killua and Nanika and Alluka and Kalluto and his parents. And approximately a hundred other people on top of that, extended family on both sides, industry insiders, coworkers. All staring at him and waiting for him to say something amazing and powerful and deep about love and what did Kurapika know about love, anyway? He was a thirty-two year old trans man so terrified of his own emotions, so paralyzed by his fear of loss, that he did not figure out he was in love with his best friend until three weeks ago.

this is me screwing the knife in deeper for poor kurapika, sorry. this is so incredibly horrifying for a person with anxiety, as someone with anxiety. behold, the terrifying ordeal of being known.

Five seconds. Kurapika finally found Leorio standing near the back, leaning against the bar. He wondered if Leorio picked the same spot where they sat together the very first time they came here on purpose. Leorio sent him a wink and a thumbs-up.

the terrifying ordeal of being known and being so, so loved anyway. it was great to write in a way that showed leorio realized he was in love with kurapika first (indeed, realized that kurapika was in love with him before kurapika knew himself), because these little interactions shows so much how leorio is inviting and allowing kurapika to come to him on his own time. and supporting him the whole way, because they are friends!!!!

Breathe, Kurapika thought. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

this statement was not supposed to be a running theme/motif, but i'm super glad it did! i wrote it as a one-off line for melody, but then i was like, hang on, that's kinda good? every other time i write i'm like, hey, you could make a theme out of this!

“Um,” Kurapika started, his voice cracking. Christ, he sounded seventeen again. He cleared his throat.

my friends told me about how their voices changed and dropped on T. any trans person is stronger and more powerful than any us marine.

“For those of you who may not know, I’m Pairo’s brother. Kurapika. His older one, just to be clear.”

this is definitely something that has happened like a hundred times.

There was a smattering of chuckles around the room. He twisted to look at Pairo. “I’ve known Pairo since he was a toddler dragging a ragged, threadbare T-Rex plushie around behind him. I was there when he read his first chapter book on his own – Dino Hunter, of course – because he came bursting into my room at two o’clock in the morning to tell me about it.” Another round of laughter. “I was there when he got his first notebook, when he won his first writing contest, when he was published in his first magazine. I was the first person he told about liking boys instead of girls. I’ve watched him grow and learn and fall in love. And now Altair is part of our family, too.”

pairo and kurapika's lives as brothers were amazing. dino hunter is a reference to the book they both read in the manga that led to kurapika wanting to leave the kurta and explore the world.

i also thought that writing fit pairo well because it's a pretty accessible career for his eyes. he could type, he could enhance the screen and font when he needed, and he could do talk-to-type. one day i want to write a side-story of when pairo and altair met, because i have it perfectly formulated in my head and it's adorable.

Kurapika took a deep breath, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He confessed, “To be perfectly honest, I was scared when Pairo asked me to do this, because I’ve run out of things to teach him. He’s run on ahead of me in life. Settled down, moved in with his boyfriend – now husband, congratulations on that by the way – and gotten married, while I’m perpetually single and living alone in my loft apartment with an absolutely spoiled monster of a cat. Stop laughing, that wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”

emperor the cat was also not intended to be a character. i came up with him like, right before i started writing the chapter.

i think it was hard for kurapika to watch his brother fall in love and move on ahead in life. even if he was genuinely happy for them both. i had a conversation with a coworker a few months ago where we both talked about how we feel like we are "behind," even though we're both very accomplished. she felt like she was "behind" because i have a master's degree; i felt like i was "behind" because she was happily married and already had a child on the way (who is here and beautiful and perfect). and i imagine kurapika wondered if he was falling behind or missing something when he saw his brother succeed in love and business without really trying.

but there's no competition at all, of course. the world spins on, and we grow and change and find our place in our own time. there's no race.

The room quieted again. Kurapika went on, his eyes flicking over the crowd. He was starting to smile, too, now.

he's starting to realize this is okay, he's not going to mess up, he may actually have something worthwhile to say or share. he's getting more comfortable in all this.

“But I’m also a wedding planner – I know, ironic – and I’ve learned a lot about love from my clients. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share some of those lessons now.”

No one from the back shouted at him to shut the fuck up, that he didn’t have a single clue what he was talking about, so he thought he was safe to carry on.

how funny would that have been??? like, it would have been fucked-up and humiliating, but in any other situation?? hilarious. just killua looking like that dude in mean girls being like HE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE except it's like HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT LOVE IS.

He thought back to Light of My Life’s various couples, musing over their own rocky paths to the altar and the beautiful, fractured glimpses into their lives they gifted Kurapika and his team. What did they teach him? What did they teach his heart, that terrifying, terrified lump of meat frantically beating in his chest?

More than you think, his heart seemed to be telling him. Trust me; I will guide you through this. Trust me, trust me, trust me.

*"listen to your heart" plays in the background*

also like. trusting oneself and your perceptions and your feelings and your heart is so necessary. it's an important part of healing. and being honest with yourself and your feelings is part of a foundation for all healthy relationships, i think.

also i really like writing alliteratively. the play on words with "terrifying, terrified" was. inspired? terrifying, because kurapika for a long time feared his own heart and feelings, viewing them as a loss of control; and terrified, because his heart is afraid, too. and they are taking this leap together!

And Kurapika explained: “Love isn’t just found in eloquent professions or grand, romantic gestures. It’s supporting each other through your lowest, worst moments and coming out the other side stronger for it. It’s standing together, hand in hand, against the world. It’s in looking at someone simply existing in the world and seeing them as they are: good, beautiful, strong, intelligent, kind. It’s in your communication and your foundation and trusting that all good things will come together in time. It’s in the family that you build together. It’s in the work you each put in to get through the hard times. Together.”

me: yeah uh-huh jj you really did summarize the fic so far.

this is also where i started being sappy and thinking about love. friendly and romantic love. the love i've seen in my friends, the love i feel myself in my relationships.

There. That’s what his clients taught him. Menchi and Buhara; Morena and Theta; Pokkle and Ponzu; Knov and Morel; Knuckle and Shoot; Canary and Amane. But so many more people showed him what love was. He pictured Pairo and Altair on his couch, laughing at him and judging him and helping him put his own puzzle-piece heart together into something cohesive and beautiful. He smiled at his brothers and saw the way they were clutching each others hands, mouths beaming and eyes dewy.

they LOVE their brother so MUCH. their view of the outside looking in for the past year, watching kurapika fall in love, go soft, be happier than they've ever seen him.

He told them, “It’s in the way you can communicate in gestures and looks, and sometimes, without looking at all. It’s in banter and private jokes and finishing each other’s sentences. It’s in casual touches and... pouring their coffee before your own.”

my coffee is never as good as when my partner makes it. my honey-lemon tea is never as good as it is when my partner makes it. my jokes are never as funny as they are when my partner and i finish each other's sentences, build off of each other's quips. we can communicate across rooms with nothing but a look. these little signs of love are everywhere and expressed in so many tiny ways. these examples here are between people in romantic relationships, but these apply to platonic friendships as well.

His eyes swept the room and found Killua and Gon. Gon had his camera hefted onto one shoulder, and Killua stood behind him, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. “It’s on the first day you wake up and realize the way you look at the world has changed. The way you open your hands and your heart and give what you have, simply for the joy of being received.”

to love? transcendent. to be loved? incandescent. to love and know that it is valued and cherished and requited?

and this was a callback to killua talking about, of course, how he fell in love with gon like melting ice. like sinking into a bath. and this was also a quieter callback to how gon fell in love. because it wasn't just that he had/has so much love to give, but because for the first time in his life, he got to see it truly received. accepted.

Kurapika saw Killua’s breath catch and Gon’s hand flex over the fingers interlaced over his middle. Heedless of their surroundings and of the running camera, Gon twisted to kiss Killua on the mouth.

SMOOCHES ahahaha!

He turned his head back to Leorio. The man had not moved; indeed, he looked like he was nailed to the floor. His eyes were so intense as they watched him that Kurapika was almost surprised he had not yet burst into flame. Kurapika said, “It’s in the moment you see someone you’ve never met before, but you look at them and just know, to your core, that this is really going to be something.”

leorio realizing something is happening here. something huge is about to happen, is about to change. and he's trying so hard not to dare to hope it might be good. it might be everything.

A chorus of oohs went around the room. Even from this distance Kurapika saw the way Leorio’s face went red, and he ducked his chin, looking bashful and embarrassed.

leorio: holy shit holy shit holy SHIT IT'S HAPPENINGGGG

How was I such a fool before, Kurapika wondered, How was I so blind, so willfully ignorant and oblivious. How did it take me so long to realize you were talking about me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.

this is important because it's not just kurapika realizing and accepting his feelings for leorio. this is kurapika's version of realizing that leorio feels the same for him. leorio is in love with him, too. and he's wondering how it was possible he was so scared and blind for so long. he fears he may have hurt leorio by holding off on this for so long, so he wants to be brave, take the leap, and see what they could be.

Kurapika did not want this man to wait another second. He did not want Leorio to spend another moment trapped in this limbo. So he confessed in the middle of a silent room in front of over a hundred people, “It's the first time you hear them laugh, and your entire world’s axis shifts beneath your feet.”

i remember the first time i met my partner. i remember the first time i looked at them and felt my world shift a little to the right. i remember falling in love and thinking that this one was unlike all the others. it was warm, golden, comforting.

Kurapika watched the confused frown on Leorio’s face when he heard that, amused by the almost puppyish tilt to his head as he considered it. He knew the moment Leorio realized what he meant when his eyes blew wide, amazed and awed and achingly soft. His lips parted.

gOD he is so CUTE. he's like oh hmm huh what does that mean

and then he remembers

i promise, he's not a huge dickwad!

and leorio laughing at gon's accidental gaffe and his sweet earnestness. and kurapika walking in. leorio realizing kurapika wanted to know him before they ever even met.

Kurapika made himself turn away from the arresting sight. “One of my favorite venues lately was the Roseview Ballroom downtown. Among its many beautiful, gaudy attractions are its murals depicting scenes from Shakespeare’s plays all across the ceiling. One is a famous quote from Twelfth Night: ‘journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man’s son doth know.’ But the more I think about it, the less I agree.”

i'm such a WHORE for shakespeare, as any readers of mine will know. check out my modern college adaptation of much ado about nothing.

He turned to meet Pairo’s eyes again, repeating, “‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ But nothing is ending here. It’s just changing.”

life does not end when we start relationships! or when they end! or when we move, change jobs, graduate, go to school, drop out of school. happy endings in stories still aren't endings. the greatest constant in life is change.

“Because what I’ve learned in this job, Pairo and Altair, what nugget of wisdom I have to give you, is this. Love is looking at a world that can be terrifying, cold, capricious, and indifferent, and finding the person whose hand you want to hold through it all anyway. Because you want every laugh, every tear, every wrinkle, every spark of joy. Love is life’s greatest leap of faith, because you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But you know exactly who you want to spend all those tomorrows with.”

me finishing this: dammit i just wrote out my wedding vows.

Kurapika looked around the room again. At Gon and Killua; at Kalluto, Nanika, and Alluka; at his parents; at his brothers. At Leorio.

He concluded, “So you simply breathe. And you trust it will be okay.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Kurapika dropped the microphone.

DAMN ME TOO THIS SHIT WAS GOOD TF?????? sorry my writing has peaked here.

#jj answers #hxh #loml

20 notes · View notes

chocoholicannanymous · 3 years ago

Text

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Part XV

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, part VI, pt VII, part VIII, part IX, part X, part XI, part XII, part XIII and part XIV.

Being Sebastian's boyfriend really isn't that much different from being his friend. They do a lot of the same things, and talk about the same stuff, only now there's hand-holding and kissing and cuddling with it. Apart from the touching though? Nothing really changes much.

Which kind of makes it sound like how it was with Blaine.

It's not though.

Sebastian will hold his hand in the hallway without worrying about being seen. And yes, Dalton is different from McKinley – so, so much different, and safer – but Blaine even hesitated to hold Kurt's hand in the choir room, surrounded by friends.

Sebastian kisses him in a way that never leaves Kurt doubting there's attraction, and has to stop his hands from wandering too far on a regular basis – yet never making Kurt worry he won't stop.

Sebastian makes Kurt have to stop himself, both from allowing it and from doing his own wandering. They're still too new to go there, no matter how much Kurt's hormones sit up and beg every time Sebastian touches him. (They'll get there, Kurt's sure, just... Step by step, and not yet.)

Sebastian reaches out for Kurt without looking – sometimes seemingly without thinking – to pull him close, and always makes a space for him.

And when Sebastian sings, it's with Kurt, or for him, not at him.

It's a far cry from scheduled make-outs and avoiding even PG13 levels of PDA and being made to feel like his boyfriend is more interested in his own hand than in Kurt.

It's amazing.

There's a rainbow rose hanging on Kurt's door on Valentine's day. He and Sebastian have been dating for two days – a day and a half, if he was to be picky – and Kurt knows from last year's insanity that there's not a flower shop within two hours of Vesterville that carries rainbow roses. They have to be ordered special, and with a lot more warning than two days.

Kurt's not the least bit ashamed about how he squeals, or how he turns on his heel and kisses his boyfriend (!) for long enough to be a little dizzy afterwards.

This isn't to say that Sebastian is a perfect boyfriend. He's not. Then again, neither is Kurt. He's working from romantic movies and the examples from the New directions, and of course from his time with Blaine. Neither is a good road map. Romantic movies have so many flaws Kurt don't really want to examine, and a lot of his favorites are set too far back in time to be useful as guidelines. The loves lives of his old glee mates are...well. They're flawed too, when seen without rose-colored glasses and envy.

As for his relationship with Blaine... Even if he's not counting how it ended that relationship was so very less than perfect, and honestly it was both their faults. Kurt's not without blame, he knows that and can admit it without somehow pretending what Blaine did wrong never happened.

So he's trying to learn from his mistakes, and other people's mistakes, and he does his best to communicate with Sebastian – who does the same in return.

Also, no one can say that they don't argue. They definitely do. They have from the beginning, and they're both opinionated passionate people, so why should they stop now? Their relationship has changed – they themselves haven't.

It's just that they manage to argue in a way that works. That doesn't makes Kurt pull out his claws to eviscerate Sebastian, that doesn't scare Kurt, or make him give in to “preserve the peace”. That, right there, was one of the things that had sent his relationship with Blaine down the wrong turn. When he'd first told his dad that he'd begun dating Blaine Burt Hummel had told him never to go to bed angry with his partner. He'd meant to sort out arguments and disagreements, but Kurt had interpreted it as needing to back down and push down his anger or hurt. With Sebastian he doesn't.

They argue, because that's who – and how – they are, but they do it in as mature and healthy way as they are able to, being teenagers. And they apologize if they step over the line. Not Kurt apologizes, regardless, with Sebastian pouting until he does, but both of them.

If Kurt had to, he'd call it damned near perfect. Instead he'll just say it's good, and he's happy.

That's never something to look down on.

The week of Regionals is weird. Kurt's never felt as prepared or as calm with a competition approaching, which is rather telling. The rest of the Warblers are a different story though. Kurt has made it clear that his primary goal is to beat the Troubletones, and his friends are feeling the pressure. They even ask if Kurt and Sebastian won't reconsider singing 'Human Nature'.

“Look, guys, I'm honored, really, that you would trust me, us like that. But I want to win more than I want that solo. And even if we ignore the fact that Ohio doesn't seem ready for a gay duet, I really do think the setlist we have is stronger as is. The Troubletones have a great presence, and both Mercedes and Santana are awesomely talented. However, everything about the Troubletones are built around them. The rest of the girls are background and dancing. If we go on with a number that's the same they are going to win, for no other reason than that most people find girls prettier and nicer to look at.

“But if we go on as an actual choir, for a show choir competition? We'll win. I'm sure of it. We've worked so hard with our songs, and I wouldn't change a thing about our setlist.”

And it's true. They have an amazing setlist, and everything flows in a way that makes Kurt feel practically professional, and he's not giving that – and its chance to win – up to stare longingly at Sebastian while singing a song that exposes them to the core.

No. Kurt's going to have quite a lot more time in the spotlight than he'd expected when turning down a proper solo. He's going to sing with his friends, and his boyfriend, and he's going to show McKinley what it means to be a team onstage.

The Troubletones are just as amazing onstage as Kurt thought. They've done a good job picking their songs, and Mercedes still has the best voice he's ever heard live. Santana's not quite as talented, but give her the right song – which these are – and she'll blow your mind. Their choreography showcases the girls poached from the Cheerios without making Mercedes look too far behind, and their clothes look good.

Kurt would vote for them any day, even with Rachel being given a place in the background, except this one. This is going to be his day. He meets Sebastians eyes as they line up and nods.

Showtime.

'I want You Back' does exactly what it's meant to, namely getting the audience in a party mood. As the last notes flows into the first from 'Man in the Mirror' the mood shifts and Kurt feels his own shift with it. His solo feels a little raw, because in no way can he sing those lines without being reminded of all the crap he's gone through over the past 6 months.

“...a willow deeply scared, somebody's broken heart and a washed out dream...”

Well. His heart might have been broken, and his dreams about Blaine did wash out. But he's got new dreams, and his hearts healed, and no matter the scars he's whole where it matters. And even if he wasn't? He's looking in the mirror, and he's changing.

They bring the party back with their last song, giving their all transforming the sounds of 'Beat It' to sounds that can be reproduced by the human throat. The dancing is the most demanding Kurt's ever done onstage, and he knows he will definitely be beat after. But they look and sound awesome, and that's all that matters.

Or maybe not, he ruefully thinks as he sees Finn on his feet, jumping up and down and whooping as the Warblers are proclaimed the winners and Rachel looks like she's been pelted with eggs again.

“You stole our songs!”

Of course. All Kurt wants to do is get on the bus, go back to Dalton and celebrate. Okay, shower, then celebrate. So naturally Rachel is waiting to ambush him. Well, that's not going to go the way she's probably thinking.

“Really? Really Rachel, you're going there? You know very well that we didn't steal anything. Oh, I know that there was a suggestion that the New Directions do Michael for Sectionals, but I also know that you were the one who refused to accept it.

“You really blew it there. Michael is a great choice for Sectionals or Regionals, what with the Ohio mindset, and I'm pretty sure you would have won with the setlist the guys suggested. I'm not surprised you put a stop to it though.”

Rachel draws back, looking first shocked, then insulted, then finally like an angry goose, complete with hissing sound. He's not letting it touch him though, lets it run over him, one might say, like water over a goose.

“There are no songs in Michael Jacksons discography that's a given for you, no certainty that you'll be featured. And in the end, that's what mattered, wasn't it? Not that the New Directions won, but that you won. You wanted to beat the Troubletones, didn't you? Wanted to show that you were better than Mercedes, wanted to prove that her beating you when auditioning for Maria was just a fluke. Wanted to prove what everyone knows, that's she's every bit as good as you, and sometimes better, is wrong.

“Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted in terms of the setlist and the spotlight, but you fucked up everything else. And not just for you, but for everyone.”

An expression of pain flies across Rachel's face, and he pushes the knife in a little bit further.

“We weren't as blind though. The minute Finn told me about the Michael setlist I knew it was a winner. As did the other Warblers. I asked Finn first, and Sam and Puck. They didn't think we needed their permission, as you didn't use the songs, but they gave it any way.”

Kurt looks at Rachel, looks at the way she's still fuming, still refusing to see any other side than her own. It won't matter what he says – she'll keep ignoring any and all arguments against her. Once he might have tried harder to make her understand, but as things are he just wants to leave. His boyfriend's waiting and that makes Kurt out of time to spend on his former friend.

“Your loss, our gain.”

He starts to leave, but thinks better of it. He's got one more jab in him.

“Oh, and Rachel? Don't worry. Going to Nationals is a privilege, and we won't waste it. We've already gotten started on a setlist.”

It's petty, but. So's she.

That evening the Warblers celebrate as thoroughly as a bunch of uniformed boys in a well-staffed boarding school can. This means that it's late when Kurt drags Sebastian to his room (unlike him Sebastian's in a single), but neither of them is under the influence of anything but happiness.

That's important to Kurt as they tumble into Sebastian's bed while kissing, because he doesn't want there to be any doubt in Sebastian's mind that when Kurt pulls off his shirt and then goes for his fly it's because he wants to.

Having Sebastian stop him is frustrating, to say the very least.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

It's only the fact that it's Sebastian, and that he's shown himself trustworthy in so many ways over the past months that stops Kurt from storming out.

“I thought we... You know?”

It's so hard to say, to open himself up like this, years of being told he's a predator, or ugly, or plain wrong getting just as much in his way as the fact that he's never done this, and the only time he's been even close wasn't even about him.

Apparently he's going to have to use his words regardless, because Sebastian's not taking the opening.

“I thought we could have sex.” There. Words. Consent. Door wide open.

And yet Sebastian's still not taking the opening.

“What's the hurry?”

Kurt pulls back a little, hurt blooming.

“No, no, don't. Talk to me, okay? I'm a bit surprised I guess. We haven't even been dating for two months yet, and I know this is new for you.”

“So? It's not like I'm waiting for marriage.”

Kurt knows he sounds a bit snippy, and he has sort of been waiting – not for marriage, but for something, some feeling of more. He's got that feeling with Sebastian, so what's the point of waiting any longer? Everyone else his age (or so it feels) is having sex so why can't he?

Some of it must bleed through because Sebastian gets that “aha” look, and nods a bit.

“Look, regardless of what I might have said or implied when chasing Blaine, I'm actually not the whore of Babylon. I have, however, rounded a few bases and enjoyed them. I think you'd enjoy them too, and I would love to find out first hand. But that doesn't have to mean we go straight to fucking.” Kurt blushes, because he might be ready to do it, but those words...

“So. I'm not going to push, and I'm not going to rush. I am more than interested though, I'm just happy to take it a bit slow. To build up to every step. As far as I'm concerned you've earned that.”

Sebastian's looking so earnest it kills Kurt annoyance, and then lightning-quick it's replaced by a vicked look than makes him shiver all over.

“I wouldn't mind showing you the first of many, many bases now though. How about it, babe?”

Kurt doesn't mind either, neither then nor the next day.

#chocoholic fics #kurt fic #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #a wild sebastian appears #kurtbastian

42 notes · View notes