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tbzhub · 1 year ago

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Just Go Fuck Him

Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

Summary: Hyunjae moves back into his childhood home and old feelings and memories come up.

Warnings: MDNI, reader has scars, brief mention of childhood trauma, brief mention of surgeries, flashbacks, a smidge negative self-talk, hyunjae is the rizzler, smut... creampie, pet names, yada yada

Rating / Genre: M, neighbor au, childhood crush au, fluff?, slight angst (it’s really not THAT bad), lots of pining

WC: 8K (2K+ words for the smut scenes)

Artist Note: @everynewiee Enjoy! Special thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this and giving me the best fucking commentary. You're a gem and I probably would not have posted this if you hadn't stroked my ego. Love youuuuuu. If there's a typo I'll get to it eventually

m.list tag list

The living room was quiet in its typical offputting fashion as you sat around with your parents; no one saying anything as there were no conversations to be had and nothing playing on the television since no one would pay attention anyway, a phone captivating its user as everyone sat in their respective places. Any interaction at this point would feel almost disrespectful and annoying, disrupting the usual routine of your and your parent’s day.

Your favorite place to cocoon was on the right side of the sofa, wrapped in a plush blanket while you doom-scrolled until you eventually needed to walk the dogs. This is how your days were spent since your college graduation, making your parents the only ones on the block who weren’t empty nesters. Maybe that explained why you never went out— there was no one to go out with. Everyone else seemed to blossom rapidly, moving away and starting lives too hectic to return to their childhood homes on a regular basis while you sat at home, wrapped in blankets, feeling left behind.

Feeling left behind wasn’t inherently a negative thing, though— and it wasn’t really a feeling either. Acknowledgment: that’s what you’d describe this part of your life as— the acknowledgment of being a late bloomer, the acceptance of being the last flower waiting to bloom. The last person to leave the nest, as some would say, and that fact was totally okay with you because, in truth, it was okay for you to spend your days the way you pleased. There was no reason to run out and chase after what everyone else was doing just to keep up, to avoid loneliness at the risk of getting hurt.

Maybe it wasn’t just an acknowledgment; perhaps being a flower that’s yet to bloom guaranteed safety from a world so wide with new people who didn’t know you and old people who’d changed so much that you didn’t know them at all. You certainly weren’t close with anyone that you’d grown up with, and when you’d run into them at the odd holiday party that you were forced to attend, that fact was always highlighted awkwardly and sometimes painfully. There’s something to be said about standing silently in a circle full of adults that you used to run around outside with as a child, as wild stories are passed around, and accomplishments are one upped by additional accomplishments. You’ve watched enough cliques coalesce in real time, cliques that you were a part of as a child but somehow couldn’t squeeze into as an adult… and to say the least, it gets old. Thus, you cocooned, you doom-scrolled, and you became content with the silent life you’d curated with your parents.

So the living room is as quiet as it always was, and the day would drone on as it always did, and you’d be just fine not rocking the boat until it was time to go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow.

But sometimes the boat needs to be rocked, and the loud knock that’s heard does the trick in making your mom flinch in her seat, and your father crane his neck to the rather unexpected sound.

You, on the other hand, do not react because a knock at the door— regardless of how foreign, is never for you. The shifting of your parents getting out of their seats and the creaking of the floorboards underneath their feet does nothing to pull you away from your phone because, again, no one is knocking on the door for you, and you’d never entirely inherited your nan's natural curiosity.

It’s not until your mom comes back into the living room with her head peeking out from behind the foyer wall as she calls out your name that you finally get up from your favorite spot on the couch. The action is done begrudgingly, but your mom swears someone is here to visit you, and her smile is vast, so at the very least, you would appease your mom and be polite.

The thing about people-pleasing was that you never knew where you’d end up. You could set out to be polite to some unexpected guest to appease your mother and end up staring face-to-face with your childhood fucking crush. This wasn’t hypothetical; this was actually happening, and you were currently wearing drab black sweatpants.

He says hi first, hugging you at the front door as your parents invite him in for tea, and you stand there looking like a fucking idiot troll whose soul has just left their body. Specifically, you were internally screaming as you said hello and tried not to look like you were combing through your hair with your fingers.

“It’s been so long, Hyunjae. How’s your mom?” Your mom asks as she heads into the kitchen to start the kettle, and you look down at your hands as he responds to her.

He’s still just as polite as he used to be when you were kids, and that pisses you off.

“It’s so lovely of you to visit,” you hear your dad chime in, and you want to scowl because you felt quite the opposite. Who visits someone they haven’t spoken to in well over half a decade out of the blue without even a single warning? How were you the only person put off by this rogue visitation?

“I thought you were a travel photographer. What are you doing back here?” You ask, and really, you wish you could tell him to leave because this was too much, and you could feel the memories starting to stew inside your brain. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you looked up at his ever-charming smile, and all you wanted to do was flee to your room.

“I moved back. I missed home.”

Hyunjae’s return meant your parents weren’t the only non-empty nesters anymore, which should make you feel better about yourself, but it doesn’t. It makes you feel like a child again and not in a way that should feel safe or warm and fuzzy. It makes you remember your childhood with him as your next-door neighbor. It makes you remember your childhood in general, and it makes you remember all the shenanigans that the two of you got up to together. All the silly poems and doodles you’d write about him in your journal growing up start to whisper around in your mind. All the conversations you’d have in your backyards pull to the forefront of your brain. Core memories flash like you’re watching a synopsis of your life thus far when you close your eyes after turning in for the night.

You slowly began to remember just how easy it was for you to grow attached to the boy that lived next door…

Hyunjae was a few years older than you, but he was always sweet, unlike the boys his age who lived in the neighborhood. Even in your younger years, it was his kindness that really set him apart in your mind. He was one of the few older kids who played nicely with the younger kids instead of ditching or excluding them or stealing their toys.

When you fell and scraped your knee trying to ride a bike for the very first time without any training wheels, he was quick to run inside his house to get a bandaid and a small bag of ice. He had kissed your bandaid-covered knee in hopes that it would get you to stop crying, and at the time, you thought the gesture was ludicrous; he wasn’t a mom, so there was no way that he could have the ability to wipe away someone’s pain with the simple press of his lips.

That was the day that you learned it wasn’t just mothers who held such a magical power

So you were putting effort into your looks to walk the dogs now... Nothing crazy— just making sure your hair wasn’t frizzy and that your clothes weren’t wrinkled before you left the house. You hadn’t run into Hyunjae yet, but it was bound to happen, and you wouldn’t be caught off guard when it did.

The dogs were slower than usual to round the block this afternoon, but you didn’t mind, enjoying the album you were listening to as you admired the cotton candy-like clouds dashed across the beautiful pale blue sky. For someone who spent such a massive chunk of their time indoors, you really did appreciate being outside.

Apparently Hyunjae felt the same way. You saw him outside for the first time since he came back, sitting on his front porch with a camera in his hands as he presumably took shots of the sky above. This was perfect actually. You could skitter by unnoticed. With your headphones over your ears and a fancy digital camera concealing most of his face, there should be this shared agreement that deterred one from interrupting the other for the sake of exchanging pleasantries.

As you move closer, your house getting more prominent in your field of view, you’re reminded that dogs don’t give a fuck about made-up social contracts. Yours pull on their leashes to get to Hyunjae, one barking, and that’s enough to steal the man’s attention away from snapping the shutter.

Damn. Your streak of avoidance shattered.

He smiles when he sees it’s you and waves with the most earnest expression on his face, and for a brief moment, you forget how to walk like an able-bodied person, legs feeling like mush and mind going blank as his inviting eyes settle on you and your dogs.

“One foot in front of the other. Smile like a sane person. Don’t let him sense his sheer power over you.”

You repeat the mantra in your mind as you let your dogs pull you closer to him, nearing his front porch with bated breath and a weak smile. It's those wooden steps at the entrance of his house that get you, the ones that harbored far too many sweet core memories. As you sit beside him on the landing, you can’t help but think of every single time that you’ve sat here in the past.

“Hey,” He says, wrapping his arm around you briefly in a friendly, one-armed hug before he sets his fancy digital camera far away from the dogs’ reach.

Your hello is soft and shy, but you didn’t stutter at the physical touch, so you’d consider that a small win.

“So you came home just to take pictures of the sky?”

He snorts at your question, “I already told you why…

“I got tired of the world at large. Plus, there’s more than enough beauty around here. The familiar things deserve to be photographed, too.” He admits simply– as if the sentiment is genuine common knowledge. He’s smiling down at you, and for a second, maybe it was a delusion, but you honestly felt like he was talking about you specifically.

“Watch. I’ll show you what I mean.”

He reaches out for his camera and begins to snap pictures of your dogs, petting them and scratching behind their ears. One of your dogs must secretly be a Hyunjae simp because he can capture her dopey smile perfectly.

You silently watch as he goes through the pictures, his smile widening, and he leans close to show you the one that must have tugged at his heartstrings. It’s a picture of your dog, face cradled in Hyunjae’s large hand, her eyes practically shining with glee, and she has the cutest doggy smile to match.

You giggle, face breaking into perhaps its first genuine smile in such a long time. “This is perfect. I have to show Mom. I’d love a copy if you don’t mind?”

When you look up from the camera, you notice just how close you are, invading his personal space unwittingly, and a blush rises in your cheeks as you quickly lean away to create some tangible distance.

He only hums in agreement before shutting his camera off again and making eye contact with you. “I’ll send you a copy later tonight. Has your number changed?”

When you finally get home, your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and the spring in your step is undeniable. You let the dogs off their leashes and put away your headphones before practically skipping to your bedroom.

You flop on your bed, feeling weightless and energized from the crumb of interaction... This could become a problem, an addiction— could a person become addicted to another person? Regardless of the answer, you squealed in bed, covering your face in your hands as you let every single positive emotion flood through your body. Your legs kick in the air, and you feel giddy, high on the love and infatuation of a crush a decade in the making.

Oh, you were so fucking doomed. Hyunjae needed to either move away or express his intent to marry you as soon as possible because every feeling you’d shoved down had come back in full force, plus interest.

A knock on your bedroom door makes you freeze mid-tizzy, and as the door creaks open, it's your mom’s head that peeks into your room, and the smile that graces her lips looks nearly childlike. She wanted to gossip, you could tell.

“I saw you sitting over at the Lee’s. It’s been so long since I've seen you two sit outside on his porch steps like that.” She says, and immediately, your face goes blank. Any traces of giddiness is sucked right out of you in exchange for bashfulness.

Vibe ruined. You felt so exposed.

“What? I’m happy. You two used to be so close growing up, and he was such a sweet kid. It’s just nice to see…” she trails off before finally taking the hint and leaving you alone to writhe in your newfound angst and embarrassment.

Your mom was right, though. You spent ample time on the Lee’s front porch growing up.

When everyone had gotten old enough to where the playing field was level, and the neighborhood kids could all get off the school bus together, it was common to hang out in a large group after school. Sometimes, this entailed sitting around and talking. Still, most of the time, this led to adventuring around the block and getting into what could only be labeled as dumb, child-appropriate shenanigans.

It didn’t take long for you to bow out of these afternoon activities in exchange for seclusion, sat at your front door doing your homework, reading a book, or maybe drawing. You didn’t want to partake in what everyone else was doing.

Hyunjae had been the one to start the unspoken tradition by randomly sitting on his porch one day instead of running out to play with everyone else. You noticed him outside, but your head is inside a book about horses, and frankly, what someone else did on their porch was none of your adolescent business.

But that day, he called you over, asking if you wanted to sit with him, and when you explained that you were reading a book, he was quick to respond, saying the same thing.

“We don’t have to talk. Just sit next to me.” That was his persuasive pitch, and it worked.

That day, you sat side by side on his front porch steps, one reading a picture book about horses and the other reading a Spiderman comic book. When he noticed you struggling to sound out an unfamiliar word, he broke the comfortable silence to help you.

That's how it started, the many sessions of keeping each other company on his wooden steps. That’s probably the true catalyst of your friendship, him calling you over and you obliging his request, sitting side by side on wooden steps instead of running around with the other neighborhood kids.

Gradually, this evolved from a mini reading club to you bringing art supplies over to paint together, him helping you with your math homework when it got tough, or even him simply reading a chapter of his library books to you with your head laid against his shoulder, eyes closed as you pictured the fictitious world that Hyunjae was describing to you.

The Lee’s front porch steps slowly became a second home to you, and as you both grew up, experiencing life in new and complicated ways, sometimes the only thing that helped you get by was sitting on those steps with Hyunjae by your side.

The coming days felt slow; your typical routine of couch cocooning left you unsatisfied, and you found yourself counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could walk your dogs outside. Which was silly because you were a grown adult; you didn't need to find an excuse to go out… but you did want an excuse to run into Hyunjae again.

Which again— you were a grown adult, and you could take life by the balls and knock on his front door, say hi, and invite yourself in. You weren't going to do that, but at the very least, you acknowledged that plan as a viable option: baby steps and all that.

In your defense, though, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself, and you were scared. So much has changed over the years since you’d last appropriately spoken. You had so many unanswered questions, and you felt like the elephant in the room, the elephant that you’d birthed, still hadn't been addressed… You didn’t think that you’d earned the right to rogue, unannounced visitations in the same way that Hyunjae did.

As of right now, you are settling on the waiting game. Hyunjae sent you the picture of your dog, just as he’d promised, but you haven't seen him outside since. At this point, the ball was in the universe’s court, and you hoped to be favored kindly.

Today, you decided to bring your pinning to a different location, settling on cleaning your bedroom instead of wistfully thinking about Hyunjae as you stared out your living room windows. You would give your room a real deal deep clean; organize and clean out your closet, vacuum, feather dust, wipe down your bedroom windows, and toss out anything that hadn’t been used in three years— the works.

You were moving through these tasks with music on blast, shimmying and singing along while you harbored a spray bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other. No area was safe for dirt or dust in your room. You were intent on cleaning until your room was interior design magazine-level spotless, and the next inanimate victim was your window. You pushed back the curtains and drew the blinds to reveal the dusty glass pane.

Wow, this should get done more often.

You attacked the window pane with cleaning spray and started wiping, swaying to the beat of the bass-heavy song that played through your speakers, and soon you're doing more dancing than wiping. You get lost in the song, singing into the window as if you were in a music video as you run the cleaning cloth over the glass like it was a prop.

Then you notice Hyunjae standing in his bedroom window, and you halt. How long had he stood there? How much of your theatrics had he witnessed? You remove your hand from the glass, and your face twists up in humiliation.

He crosses his arms, eyebrows arching upwards, but the rest of his expression seems impassive before he finally bursts into a fit of laughter, causing you to do the same. Your embarrassment dissipates as he claps his hands to applaud you for such a lovely showcase, and you playfully bow.

This moment wasn’t the first time that one of you has gotten caught being weird in the recesses of your bedrooms by the other, but it’s been so long that you can’t help but giggle. Some things really don’t change, and you’re glad that, at this point, getting caught by Hyujnae feels the same way as it did when you were younger. No judgment, just a short shock of embarrassment followed by playfulness and laughter shared between good friends.

Hyunjae’s been back home for over a month now, and you were still… dragging your feet when it came to acknowledging the obvious. You were being stubborn, and you were starting to annoy your mother. She, so badly, wanted to play matchmaker. Yet, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, insisting for the nth time that you did not like Hyunjae and that he did not like you. She’d roll her eyes and drop the matter, but she always muttered something under her breath. Then you’d act like you didn't hear, just like she’d act like you hadn’t spewed such a bald-faced lie.

You did like him, though. You more than liked him, and that’s what startled you most. To want someone in so many ways... The concept was so new to you, and Hyunjae made pining over him refreshing.

There were parts of it that were innocent and parts that felt like carnal desire. You wanted to talk to Hyunjae every day like you used to— to spend time with him every day, just like when you were kids. There was this familiarity in his presence that was soothing, and yet most days, he left you feeling drunk off the feelings and needs that you’d developed for him.

He was sweet, and he made you laugh, but at his baseline? Hyunjae was a flirt that left you flustered all the time.

It’s the looks he gives you, the curve at the corner of his lips when he’d notice you short-circuit from one of his sly compliments, or the intense eye contact he’d give you while you spoke. It was the way he’d playfully nudge you as you sat beside him on his porch steps, and it was most definitely the cheeky smile he'd flash at you when he was jogging around the block with his shirt off. With all of that, you were starting to look at him differently, and you found yourself appreciating him in ways that you’d never paid attention to before.

When had he gotten so irresistibly attractive? Has he always been this undeniably sexy?

He’d gotten stronger, bulkier. It only took a few shameless glances in his direction while he was outside, gearing up for a run, to notice just how toned he was. His back muscles were lean. His arms looked so firm… like he could protect you with them or wrap them around you as he drilled nothing but raw pleasure into your body. The thought alone made you shiver, and it was becoming damn near impossible to look at him in a friendly way. Exceptionally not with his lips so perfectly crafted. He had lips that could easily hypnotize you— and they did often. You’d try your hardest to focus on his words just to fantasize about how sweet and kissable his lips were.

Right now, you were stuck between reality and a daydream as you stood outside listening to Hyunjae speak. You’d crossed paths as he was coming in from a late evening jog, and you were heading out to walk the dogs. You watched the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip slowly, and then your eyes began to trail down past his bare chest. Before you could fall deeper into your thoughts, heat spread across your chin, and your face got tilted upward for you to meet Hyunjae’s gaze.

“Like what you see?” He guesses, calling you out playfully, and your reaction time is slow to it all.

You barely register getting caught as you focus on the sudden physical contact, the way his hand cups your chin firmly, and the warmth that his fingers provide to your skin. His touch lingers as you stare up at him with a facial expression displaying nothing but need. How could such a simple gesture cause you to buckle so intensely? If you tried to speak right away, you might let out a moan.

You have to take a step back to regain your composure, and your hand tightens around the leash that you're holding.

Fuck.

For a moment, you’d even forgotten all about your dogs. They needed a walk, and here you were eye fucking Hyunjae outside his childhood home. Your words are mumbled and short as you try to slink away, stepping to the side to get around him on the sidewalk.

“My bad.”

That’s all you could say. It was the lamest thing to come out of your mouth in a while, but your dogs could be your escape from such an awkward situation.

His hand grabs your wrist, though, stopping you from completing one of your little vanishing acts. You can barely hear him over your rapidly beating heart. All you can make out is that he’ll text you when to come over, and there's something else about going for a drive.

Hyunjae kept taking casual side glances your way while you sat together in his car. No one was talking, and you could tell he was gearing up to say something ridiculous. The smirk that graced his mouth was your leading indicator, and the suspense killed you. The lull in your conversation only heightened your anticipation as you tried to relax into the passenger seat, sitting silently and with thick tension.

“You never answered my question, you know.” His words come out so nonchalant that you nearly misunderstand him.

But you could play coy, too, so you take a long sip from your drink to keep him waiting.

“Hm?”

The eye roll he gives you is comical and dramatic, and he feigns offense as his hand covers his heart.

“You forgot that fast? Wow, dude. Check me out, and then forget all about it. I feel used.” Even as the words pass his lips, he’s smiling, his eyes creasing, and the rise of his cheekbones are very telling. Hyunjae just loved to see you squirm in the hot seat.

“I don’t know what— did you just call me dude?” His phrasing finally registers, and you scoff. Was this a date, or did you just get painfully friendzoned?

His eyebrows quirk upward, and the smirk along his lips turns devilish momentarily as he hums, eyes intently on your own.

“I’m sorry. Would you prefer something more forward? I could call you baby… there's also babe, angel, sunshine. Buttercup if we’re feeling frisky. Darling is a favorite of mine, but anything’s on the table, really.”

Your nose scrunches up at his blatant teasing. The man was straight up toying with your emotions. “Just f-forget about it.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

His words bounce around the car before striking straight through you. The cup in your hand clatters clumsily into its holder as you drop it.

So much for keeping it cool.

“Ooooh, so that’s the one. I’ll remember that.” He says through a chuckle and a smug grin as he reclines further in his seat.

“You know you didn’t have to bring me all the way out here to tease me. You were doing a pretty good job from the comfort of your own home.”

You tried to sound dry and aloof, but you started to buzz with anticipation. The feelings that you’d kept hidden, albeit poorly, would be pushed and prodded to the surface, thanks to Hyunjae and his charming smile.

“That’s not why I brought you out here. I actually wanted to talk. I’ve missed you.” He admits, reaching out to touch your shoulder tenderly.

“Hyunjae. We’re neighbors. You see me every day.” You assert, facial expression going deadpan as you stare back at his unwavering flirtatious gaze.

He sighs at that, mind seeming to go to a faraway place before he speaks up again.

“It’s more than that. I miss how close we used to be. We haven’t hung out alone like this since the summer before my senior year of high school. It feels like decades have passed and…

“It felt like it happened out of nowhere. It was like one day, we were close. I’d say we were best friends, and then the next day, you woke up and decided that wasn’t the case anymore. Why? What did I do?”

There was a gleam of hurt in his eyes that caused your bottom lip to jut out as guilt struck you. Hyunjae was right. You were close. He was your favorite person, and you were his. He was ever-present throughout much of your life, and then you ghosted him. You could pinpoint the exact moment when things changed, and you’d decided to stop being his friend.

You were a teenager riddled with insecurities, and instead of talking to him about it— or talking to anyone for that matter, you’d made the conscious decision to become reclusive. You thought that you needed to detach from someone that you, for the longest time, considered was your one and only gift from the universe growing up.

You purse your lips together before opening your mouth to speak, but doubt settles and seeps into your bones. “I don’t know how to explain this without sounding dumb.”

Hyunjae shrugs, “Just say it. Dumb or not. We’ll piece everything together as a team.”

His eyes were soft, and his hand went to rest on your knee, giving you all the comfort and safety that you needed to explain yourself.

“Um… obviously, I have a crush on you, right? Like, let’s move past that fact fast.” You pause to read Hyunjae’s reaction, but he only gives you a small smile while his hand reaches for yours, lacing his fingers through your own.

“A-and… I guess I knew that even back then. I mean, yeah. I had a huge fucking crush on you back then. Oh god, it was bad. It's just as bad as it is now, honestly. But when we were in high school, I started developing all these insecurities. I started noticing that other girls looked different from me. They didn’t grow up getting used to the hospital like I did. They didn’t have these long surgical scars on their legs like mine. You remember that part of my life, right? Your mom let you visit me after my first surgery when I was super young.”

Somewhere along the way, you shifted in your seat to stare out the window as you spoke, unable to hold eye contact and show vulnerability simultaneously.

“I didn’t realize it then because I was so young… I just wanted to feel better, but my body was branded with all this trauma. The scars on my thighs documented it all. It was hard going to gym class. The locker room was awful; I’d feel so insecure, and then I’d have to think about you constantly. All the girls knew you, and they’d talk about how hot you were. All. The. Time. And because I was your best friend, they’d ask me about you all the time. I was ‘popular’ but only because they wanted something from me. I couldn’t deal with it. All these beautiful girls with perfect, flawless skin constantly asked me about the guy that I’d liked for so long.

“I could not deal with another school year being seen only as the gateway to Hyunjae. I spent that summer in my room crying and wishing that things were different. That I was different, that I'd wake up and these scars would be gone. That I could finally get the guy that I’d wanted for so long… Obviously, that never happened. So I thought that if I put you and our friendship behind me, maybe I could, at the very least, move on because why would a guy like you want someone so far from perfect.”

You did it. Hyunjae is finally caught up and no longer left in the dark. All that was left to do now was listen to his response. You feel firm hands grab at your waist, and you're awkwardly pulled out of your seat until you're straddling Hyunjae’s lap.

“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, but… is that what you really think? That I wouldn’t want you because of something like that?” He’s looking up at you with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and all you can do is nod meekly.

“I hate that, you know. I hate knowing that you spent an entire summer crying, and I was right next door, and I didn’t know.” His hands fall to your thighs, squishing them in his hold gently as he processes all of this information.

“I can’t even joke about how down bad we’ve been for each other because right now I’m shocked.” He goes on, sighing heavily before chewing on his bottom lip.

“My mom raised me right. I can reassure you that I would never care about something like that. I know, all too well, how to appreciate and treat a good woman. You’ve always been beautiful to me, and you’ll continue to be. Always. No matter what. Those parts of you are gorgeous, too, because they’re a part of the bigger, breathtaking picture.

“I don’t want to miss out on any more time, okay?”

Before you can grace him with a response, his lips are on yours, and his hand is pressed against your back as he pushes your body closer to his.

It was the kind of kiss that made you realize just how lonely you’d been. Urgency and desire ran straight through your veins to pool at your center, and you felt like you were melting into the man below you. You could stay like this forever, straddling Hyunjae’s hips while your tongue collided beautifully with his. He kissed you like a thirsty man dying for a drink. Faint gasps leave your chest whenever he pulls away to breathe to dive back in and fuse his mouth with yours again.

So this is how Hyunjae’s lips feel. This is how it feels to be kissed by him.

You both become lost in the kiss, and his hands begin to roam. Warmth spreads across your lower back as one of Hyunjae’s hands snakes its way underneath your shirt to caress your skin, and a shiver flows up your spine. Your fingers tangle into his hair, anchoring yourself to this moment as your hips roll. That’s when you feel it.

“Oh.” You breathe out.

The tent in his pants nudges against you perfectly as you're coaxed into a steady grind by the firm hand pressed along your back.

“Feel good?” He asks, pulling away to look up at you with glossy lips and messy hair. Your nod is an eager one as you try to lean down, eyes closing as you search for his lips again while Hyunjae leans into you, pressing kisses to your neck instead.

You feel his free hand creep up to your thighs as you continue to chase after the friction his crotch provides. Your skirt slowly becomes bunched up, cool air hitting your thighs, and you freeze, shyness and insecurity washing over you.

“J-jae…” You stutter out in a whisper, grabbing his face in your hand to stop him from looking down.

There’s a look of understanding on his face, but you also see a glint of something else in his eyes. “Wanna come back to my place, Sweetheart? I can think of some ways to help you get comfortable.”

As promised, Hyunjae made you feel safe and comfortable. He asked for permission before peeling a new article of clothing away from your body each time. He litters soothing touches and gentle kisses to any freshly exposed skin as he gets you undressed fully. When you’re completely bare, he’s keen to comfort you, making a point of looking you in the eyes before sneaking a glance down to your chest briefly.

“Just focus on me, okay?” He says, voice as soft as cotton while his hand comes up to stroke the side of your face sweetly.

He leans back to take off his shirt, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless more than a handful of times, you can’t help the whine that leaves you. Your eyes trail down his toned torso and settle expectantly on his hands that fiddle with his jeans. You were about to learn something new about Hyunjae, and you were paying very close attention.

He was big, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to stop the moan that tries to punch out of you. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you stare blatantly at every part of him before your wide eyes finally lift to meet his gaze.

“It’ll fit.” He reassures smugly, and you roll your eyes at that.

“When did you get so cocky?” You sass through a tease as you're pushed backward onto his bedsheets.

“Don’t be jealous, Sweetheart. You’ll be full of cock soon.” He tosses back, causing you to shudder.

He hovers above you for a moment, caging your body in between his strong arms as he looks down at you with fondness in his gaze while he admires your beauty. He leans down to kiss you on the lips before moving down your body.

His lips press against every part of your body on his trek down your chest and past your stomach. When he gets to your thighs, he takes his time, closing his eyes as he kisses every spot, running his tongue along the blemishes that make you doubt yourself. He alternates his love and affection as he slots himself between your legs, nipping at one thigh before pressing a wet kiss to the other.

You feel weightless already. There's not an ounce of nervousness in your body as Hyunjae worships the parts of you that you thought you disliked the most. You felt cared for, cherished, and like you were the most enticing person in the world. The tingling sensations travel closer and closer to the apex between your thighs until you let out a gasp that quickly morphs into a whimper.

“Jae—

You're cut off by a moan as Hyunjae’s tongue swipes up your wetness in one languid motion, causing a jolt of pleasure to dash through your body. He hums into your pussy as he runs his tongue from side to side, parting your folds and tasting you hungrily before he slots your clit between his lips. You lurch forward, and he reaches one arm up to press you back into the bed, resting his hand on your stomach. He pushes your thighs farther apart with his free hand; his grip is tight around your thigh while he buries his face further into your pussy, tongue unrelenting as he sucks on your clit in tandem with the flicks of the wet muscle.

You didn’t know how to move through life after experiencing something life-altering like this. Hyunjae’s mouth made you feel unreal. His tongue could easily be labeled the 8th wonder of the world. All you could do was softly moan his name like you were reciting a prayer as he worked you over.

The bed dips as he shifts his positioning, stopping his ministrations for a minute, and when you look down, you notice just how drenched his chin is because of you, and you shyly close your legs.

“Y-you don’t have to contin—

He cuts you off by forcing your legs apart and looking up at you purposely while he settles between your thighs again.

“Why would you deny yourself something we both know you want?” He challenges, tongue sticking out to ghost over your glistening pussy, and the delicate warmth that the barely-there touch provides is enough to have you whining in need. You push his head back down, hoping he’ll just shut up and go back to town. He does, but not without having the last word.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, words slurred as he tries to talk between sloppy licks. His tongue remains flat as he laps at your pussy to make you fall apart.

When you seem close, with moans flowing out of you ceaselessly, he sinks into you, tongue massaging your spasming walls as he fucks you with his mouth, and that’s all you need. Your face grows hot, and you start to quiver; your thighs begin to falter, and Hyunjae has to hold them steady with his large hands as your orgasm swallows you whole.

“Oh FUCK.”

You will never be the same. Your body throbs with pleasure, and you shake through the most powerful feeling that you’ve ever encountered in your life. You’re speaking only in incoherent babbles as Hyunjae continues to tongue fuck you until the sensation is far too much for your pussy, and you have to push him away. You look up at him breathlessly, eyes unable to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time as you come down from such an intense finish.

“God bless you, Hyunjae.” You finally say, still twitching from your nerves getting lit on fire.

“I take it I did pretty good, hm?” He points out with the cockiest grin while he wipes his chin, coating the back of his hand in your essence. His eyes drift away from your face to check you out, and his face melts into a genuine smile.

“Your body is perfect to me, by the way. Every single part of it. Every minor detail.” He reassures, voice coated in sincerity as he trails his hand along your thigh, thumb running across a faded scar.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you turn your face away from him, with a blush peppering your cheeks. “It’s your turn…” You add, letting your legs fall open for him.

“Our turn,” He corrects as he turns your face to look up at him.

“You ready, Sweetheart?” He asks while he hovers above you, and you can feel how warm and heavy he is against you, prompting you to nod your head yes.

Hyunjae sheathes himself inside you slowly, causing you to groan blissfully as your eyes fall closed. He feels so good. The stretch is just right, and as he buries himself deep inside you, it’s like you’re being split open, but in the best way. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you adjust to his girth and length. When you finally open your eyes, you're met with the sight of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen trying his hardest to hold himself together.

“You okay, Darling?” You ask in a teasing whisper while you take in Hyunjae’s state. He looks tense, his teeth are abusing his bottom lip, and for shits and giggles, you clench around him and he hisses.

“You’re incredibly tight.” He says through gritted teeth before he exhales. He rears back, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you hear him curse under his breath.

“I-it’s like your pussy is choking my cock…” He mumbles before he leans down to kiss your neck and tries to press forward again. You hear him whimper softly, and it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard, and it's all because of you.

“I feel good?”

“You feel so. Fucking. Good.” He praises through a pant.

His hips start to roll against yours as he finds a steady pace to fuck you with, and soon his bedroom is filled with a mixture of moans and skin slapping against skin. His body weight presses you further into the bedsheets, and you feel like you’re being surrounded by love and warmth as every fantasy that you’ve ever had comes true.

Hyunjae’s strong body lays flush on top of yours, and his fingers lace through yours while he rocks into you harder with precise movements. His other arm goes under your body to tilt your pelvis upward as he begins hitting you at a new angle that pulls a cry out of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, needing him closer and deeper as you’re fucked into oblivion. Each powerful thrust has you sliding up the sheets, and your pussy clamps down on him whenever his cock drags out of you. You felt stuffed, filled to the brim, and you missed him when he reared back, leaving you nearly empty for half a second at a time.

Praises were mumbled against your skin while he plunged into you. You had the best pussy. You were doing a good job; you’re taking him so well. You felt incredible. Hyunjae’s words sent you to the edge, and all you could do was gasp and moan as you came undone. Your walls flutter and spasm as you arch your back, screaming his name out for the neighborhood to hear.

“J-Jae,” you whimper, lip trembling as Hyunjae molds your body to his fat cock.

“I know, Sweetheart… Relax and enjoy it.” He coos softly, coaching you through your second orgasm.

His hips don’t slacken; they do the opposite, speeding up as he hammers the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly until something inside you snaps. You writhe underneath him, and your fingers tighten around his own as you fall into bliss. Hyunjae’s eyes are glued to your face as your mouth drops open, and a long, drawn-out groan leaves your body.

“That’s right, baby. Keep going.” He says through a grunt as he starts to chase his high.

He shifts, lifting you into his arms while his cock stays buried inside you. You're positioned upright, body going limp against his muscular thighs as he continues to drill into you, massaging your walls at a merciless pace. One large bicep stays wrapped around your waist, and his free hand snakes between you both to rub against your clit as if he could get you to cum a third time. You’re just a brainless lump of whimpers at this point as your head rests against his sweaty chest.

“I’m close, Sweetheart. I know you can do it again, come on, baby.” He pleaded, voice ragged as his thrusts turned desperate.

His moans get more prominent, and when you look up to meet his gaze, Hyunjae looks fucked out beyond belief, lips parted, and hair a disaster on top of his head. You muster up enough energy to kiss him on the lips, swallowing all his pretty noises and whimpering against his plush lips. You feel his hips stutter. Then heat spreads inside you, and you shake as he fills you with cum while you experience another earth-shattering orgasm.

You're both tired and sticky. The bed sheets are hardly halfway on the bed, twisted onto one side, but neither of you seems to care. You collapse onto the bare mattress with Hyunjae’s cock still hidden inside you. When he finally pulls out, your dripping pussy adds to the mess on his bed. He lays down beside you, immediately pulling you in for a cuddle.

“You’re going to stay here, right?” He asks, looking down at you with a hopeful gleam.

“Of course. Even if I wanted to go home, I couldn’t deal with a walk of shame right now. My legs don’t work. I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon when I have to walk the dogs.” You answer through a giggle.

NOTE: There is a part two that can be found: here.

#kvanity #lee hyunjae imagines #lee hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz smut #lee hyunjae fic #lee hyunjae smut #the boyz imagines #tbz smut #tbz x reader #tbz drabbles #tbz imagines #tbz hyunjae #hyunjae smut

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legendofmorons · 11 months ago

Note

Hey sorry if this is kinda specific and weird but could you do one where the reader gets their time of the month and Twilight takes care of them. (I get it this makes you uncomfortable I got my time of the month and it has hit me like a truck and I just want some tooth rotting fluff rn no pressure tho). Sorry if this is weird. Love your stuff have a lovely day 🩷

Personal hero (Twilight)

Of course I can honey! I'm sorry that you feel gross.

This doesn't make me uncomfortable, though. I'm familiar with the problem. I hope this helps and that you feel better.

Pairing: Twilight and AFAB! Reader (can be romantic or platonic, but either way, he loves you a lot)

Rating: G

Summary: When your period hits- you're left feeling it like a semi-truck. Thankfully, Twilight is right there to help you.

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, menstruation/ period, blood, a little angst maybe??

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

About the nicknames: Pumpkin seems pretty straightforward, it's one I heard all the time from my mama.

Bug in this case is a shortened version of love bug, another one from my childhood.

I've heard both terms used for all types of loved ones, from kids to friends to partners.

-------

You shouldn't be so surprised to see the blood in your underwear- but you are. Between the unexpected quest and the busy schedule you've had to adjust to, you just have been way too busy to pay attention to when you'd next start your period.

Thankfully, you have a few pads in the bag that had travelers with you - but only three. And that isn’t really enough. But you have one for now.

(Thank God you carry a few emergency pads for yourself and others.)

After putting in ypur pad and washing your hands you return to the group. (At least the cramps, moodswing, and genral soreness makes more sense.)

You only walk another hour before you arrive at the inn in Hateno in Wild's hyrule. Rooms are rented, and you're paired up with Twilight.

The first thing you do is collapse into your bed, groaning as you let your body relax.

"You don't look so good, pumpkin." Twilight says as he sits on the edge of your bed.

"I don't feel so good." You admit.

"Can I help?"

"Not really..."

"What's going on?"

You look at him, trying to decide if it's even worth telling him about. He doesn't seem like the type of person to shame anyone about this kind of thing.

But still. It's a little embarrassing that you aren't better prepared and that whole- awful period symptoms ranging from cramps to killer headaches and vomiting.

And if you're a heavy bleeder? It's no wonder some people call it shark week.

"It's um-... I'm bleeding?" You blurt out- not sure how to word it or what people call it in his time.

"What? Where- (Y/n) you can't let yourself bleed without getting it looked at!"

Twilight is pale, and he's very obviously nervous. He looks like he might start trying to single handedly evolve an instant healing spell for anyone to use.

"It's not that!" Ypu say quickly, "It's just that time of the month."

Twilight blinks, taking a moment to process and calm down.

Then he all clicks for him.

"Oh! Oh. Wait, do you have enough stuff for it?"

"Not really. I'll have to grab more tomorrow-"

"I'll go! You don't have to. I know that- periods suck."

"You don't have to."

"I don't mind, (Y/n). Do you have anything in particular you need?"

You take a moment to consider his offer. It's sweet, really.

And you would appreciate not having to go get the things yourself.

Twilight offered. So it probably isn't an issue or a burden.

"If you're willing to go I'd appreciate that."

"Okay, what should I grab?"

You tell Twilight what it is you need. Painkillers, chocolate, a heating pad of some sort, and whatever you use to deal with the actual bleeding.

He just smiles, "I'll be back soon. Why don't you nap?"

"Thank you, Twilight."

"Of course."

-------

You wake up to the door opening.

When you look over, you are relieved to find Twilight with a bag from the store. It seems to have everything you asked for.

"Hey there, bug." Twilight says softly, "You okay?"

"Just- ugh."

"I bet. Here, let's get some food in you."

Twilight pulls out one of your favorite snacks and hands it to you easily. He seems content just to take care of you.

After you've eaten and settled back down, you find yourself looking back to him.

"Can uh-" you aren't sure if it's weird to ask him for cuddles.

Is it?

And more importantly do you care either way?

"Can we maybe cuddle?" You ask after a moment. Becuase really the worst he can say is no.

(Maybe a mean variation of no but that dosen’t seem like him.)

"If you're sure you don't mind that I smell like dirt."

"We all smell that way. It's fine, Twi."

He sets his pelt over his own bed before he makes his way over to you.

He sits on your bed, holding his arms open. He's letting you take the lead on this one, not sure of if and or where you hurt.

You move - tucking yourself under his chin and wrapping your arms around his torso. You curl into him, reveling in the warmth Twilight provides.

Twilight, move you both so you're lying down. You're on his chest while one of his hands moves back and forth across your back.

He's gentle with you. But he holds you firm, sure in his arms. He dosen’t force you to stay, but he dosen’t ask you to leave.

Twilight is one of those people who are just good at giving hugs.

"Thanks." You say after a while.

"Of course, I want you to feel better."

"I really appreciate that. And you."

Twilight laughs, amused, fond, and bashful all at once.

You find yourself struck by how much genuine care is in his eyes when he looks at you.

"Get some rest, I'll still be here later." He says before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You would argue - really you would... but it's very comfortable and you know that you're safe here.

Sleep claims you again quickly, but you know that you'll still be safe and cared for when you wake up.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu twilight #lu twilight x reader #tw blood mention #cw blood mention #menstruation

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 27 days ago

Text

The Path Taken

BLEACH Anime Celebration - Day 3

Day 3: Shikai / Fave Friendship / Black Hole Disco

Rating: General/K+ for mild themes

Setting: in the 18 months between the end of the Arrancar arcs and the beginning of the Lost Agent arc.

Synopsis: When Rangiku discovers her captain has been responsible for the spare uniforms going missing from the Tenth Division, she didn’t expect him to be behind it, let alone lead her to the cave where he’s training and been keeping a secret.

AN: all aboard the BROTP bus! I was planning to save this moment for my ongoing fic An Unwavering Light, but I saw my opportunity to write it for the BLEACH Anime Celebration. I will probably rewrite this scene when the time comes in that fic, but that’s then and this is now!

The friendship between Toshiro and Rangiku gives me a chance to write something a bit more light-hearted but still allowing me to have a few serious moments sprinkled here and there.

I hope you all enjoy it!

___________________________

It started when the spare uniforms went missing. It’d been only a small number, and Rangiku might have missed it if it weren’t for third seat’s, Mingawa’s, stock take of supplies. She normally didn’t look too seriously into such things – her captain seemed to enjoy doing that, she’d convinced herself – but with him focused on training, she has to step up while he’s away.

She and her third seat end up in front of the supply closets in the laundries. A few meters to her left through a doorway, several officers scrub uniforms and sheets in tubs and setting them in even larger washing baskets. Outside, several hang the washing on long lines that sway in the winter breeze. She can hear them chattering as they work, but she doesn’t pay attention to what they’re saying.

She slides the closet door open. There are stacks upon stacks of folded clothes, each shelf housing separate articles of the shihakusho. She counts the large sized men’s uniform pieces. It’s only slight, but there’s definitely something strange going on here.

As noted by Mingawa, they aren’t scheduled to receive new recruits for another three months, there haven’t been any missions that required officers to receive new uniforms, and no officers had reported to either of them about needing them. It doesn’t make any sense for this many uniforms to be missing in just two weeks.

“Are you looking for something, Lieutenant?”

She glances at the unseated officer -- Anzai, she remembers -- who had stopped on her way outside to deliver the washing basket she carries.

“No, nothing in particular,” she says, before sighing and rubbing the back her neck. “Minagawa recently did a stock take of our supplies. He mentioned that we were running low in the larger sizes of a complete shihakusho.”

The officer frowns. “Is that so?”

“Have you noticed anyone coming to grab any extra uniforms lately?”

Anzai shakes her head. “No, I haven’t.” She gestures to the officers behind her, still scrubbing. “Do you want me to ask Banno-san and Okuno-kun?”

Rangiku shakes her head. “No need, it’s not a big issue. If you do notice anything, though, please inform either Minagawa or I.”

“I will.” She bows. “I’ll return to my duties now.”

Rangiku can’t help but chuckle. “There’s no need to be so formal. Keep up the good work, it looks like you’re getting through a lot in there.”

“Ah, yes, we are! Thank you, Lieutenant!”

She and Minagawa left not long after. On their way back to the office, Minagawa speaks up. “I’ll inform the captain when he returns.”

“Save it for tomorrow morning,” Rangiku advises. “We shouldn’t put this on his mind after his training. It’s minor, but you know how he can be.”

Minagawa gives a huff of a chuckle and smirks. “Yeah, I know. All right.”

The next day, before either of them could tell Hitsugaya, four complete large uniforms were accounted for in the washing. Another two came in the next day, but another went missing the same day.

____________________________

Three days since the discovery of missing uniforms, Rangiku thought she would get ahead of who was causing this. The worst she had in mind for them was a reprimand about not honoring their uniform, to use their current uniform until it was torn beyond repair or became to big or small for them and needed replacing.

She had it all planned, right down to casually walking by the laundry area everyday at a different time from each day, then ust whoever she caught taking the uniforms. Within only a few hours after formulating and finalizing all of this, it all came crumbling down at the sight before her.

She’s frozen to the spot, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Hitsugaya stares back at her, standing in front of the spare uniforms cupboard, holding a large sized kosode. The scandalized look makes him appear younger, as if he were child caught trying to steal something he’s not allowed to have. It reminds her of how he was as a third seat and he lied about eating the last pork bun.

She’s torn between being amused and shocked.

“What are you doing?” she asks in a whisper, despite no else being around. In the back of mind she’s grateful this is the case, not sure how Anzai and the others would react to seeing their captain is behind the missing uniforms.

“I was…” He robotically pulls his hands back to sides, letting the kosode’s ends drop to the floor. “Minagawa mentioned…” He sighs roughly. “Fine, it was me.”

She blinks, then cocks her head to one side. Amusement is winning out with how out of character this situation is for him. “Wait, what?”

“I’ve been borrowing uniforms. I didn’t return the last few because I didn’t have time to.”

“And why have you been borrowing them in the first place?” Whatever teasing or mock patronizing comments she’d been ready to level at him are silenced when he shuts his eyes. Something’s troubling him. “Captain, what’s going on?”

Another sigh, this one of resignation. “You don’t have to attend a lieutenant’s meeting until ten o'clock, right?”

She nods.

He raises the kosode. “Then it’s better if I show you.”

_________________________________

He leads her outside of the Seireitei into the forests of Rukongai, with Hyourinmaru strapped to his back and a complete large sized uniform folded up over his arm.

They’ve barely spoken a word since leaving the barracks, but she can sense the apprehension rolling off him. He can be quiet and not tell her what he’s thinking, but never because he felt he couldn’t or to keep it a secret from her. To see him acting like this is strange for her; it reminds her she doesn’t always know everything about him despite overseeing his training and working alongside him for the last few decades.

When the cave comes into their line of sight, she raises a brow. “Isn’t this where you’ve been training?”

“As I said, you’ll understand once you’ve seen it.”

She lets out a huff. “It has something to do with your training, then?”

He says nothing, continuing towards the cave. She remembers his troubled look, and can only cross her arms to quell her impatience.

Once they enter, her footsteps echo around her and she expects the warm, thick air to weigh down on her. She frowns at how cold it is, and finds herself rubbing her arms. Perhaps it’s due to his training; he has been coming here for months now, after all, there's a chance it's having a some kind of cumulative effect on the cave.

They're coming to the entrance of a wide chamber when he stops and turns to her. “Wait here. I’ll tell you when you can come in.”

She can only nod and watches him disappear around the corner. While waiting she, looks behind her to the entrance, a small archway of sunlight in the distance. She doesn't remember him going this far in before.

She grunts when she hears an echo of Hyourinmaru’s bankai release chant, and a brush of cold sweeps out into the cave’s corridor. She prepares for him to tell her to enter, but he doesn’t. More cold rushes out of the chamber as he trains, and she ends up sitting on the ground, letting out a huff that blows her bangs out of her face. She takes out her denreishinki to check and reply to her messages, but a signal is non-existent. She never thought that day would come where she wishes she’d brought the division’s paperwork to complete.

Several minutes later, she finally hears him say, “All right, you can come in now.”

She rushes to a stand, but feels an odd trepidation as she enters the chamber. Before even looking around, she stops when her foot grazes his folded-up uniform. She looks to the cave’s walls, which are are scored from his zanpaukto’s attacks and streaks of ice, and then at rubble rests in piles in random spots. At the center is her captain, encased in his bankai but now dressed in the larger uniform.

She claps a hand over her mouth to stop her laughter from exploding out of her, but the snorts escape. He looks ridiculous with how loosely the shihakusho hangs off of him. “S-Sir, why are you --?!”

“Just stay over there!” he yells back, indignant. “It’ll make sense in a second.”

Still Rangiku can’t control herself, having to lean back again the cave wall and keep her hand over her mouth. She tries to focus on something else in the area, and all humor rushes out of her when she sees there’s only one petal hanging above Hitsugaya’s head. “You’ve run out of petals!”

“I know, just wait.”

“But, once it breaks, you’ll –”

Crack.

A hairline fracture splits down the middle of the petal. A flush of panic spreads through Rangiku. She’s seen what happens. She’ll need to call Fourth Division, even searches her sleeve without looking away for her denreishikai and planning to make a run for it out of the cave to get a signal.

He raises his free hand, beseeching. “Trust me.”

The last petals breaks into piece. Before she can call out to him, mist explodes into the chamber and a wave of biting cold hits her, forcing a gasp out of her and to throw her arms up in front of her face. She can barely remain standing, her legs nearly being forced to kneel. She bows her head and grits her teeth, waiting for the force to down. It’s not until several heartbeat later that it does, and she opens her eyes. While taking a few staggered breaths, her eyes widen at the ice edged at her foot.

She lowers her arms and finally looks up. The mist swirls around the cave, wafting along the ice-covered ground before dissipating. Several stalactites hang threateningly from the ceiling, while the stalagmites block her view of her captain. She gingerly steps out on to the ice, half expecting to slip and fall.

“Captain? What happened? Where --?”

“I’m right here.”

Her eyes widen. The voice gives her pause. It’s familiar, but a few octaves deeper. Why is her captain speaking like that?

She continues on the ice, finding that it's thinner than she realized, cracking beneath steps. She rounds a stalagmite and comes to a stop. For a second, the world stills. A man stands where Hitsugaya once stood. His shoulders, legs and arms are encased in ice shape like amour. He has the same hair and his eyes, though more narrow, have the same steeliness and color.

No, it can’t…it can’t be! “Captain?!”

He winces at her exclamation. “Yes, it’s me.”

Her eye twitches and throws her hands out in accusation. “But…how?! What?! When?! How did you...How is this possible?!"

"This is Hyourinmaru's Completed Form." He raises his zanpakuto, twisting the hilt to he horizontal. "I can't access all of Hyourinmaru's powers and abilities in the bankai I've been wielding up until now. Eventually, I discovered the only way I could was to age up." He half turns from her. "That's the short version of it. I don’t have time to explain it in detail.”

“What do you mean?!”

“I can’t stay like this for long. I’ll show you it’s abilities while I can.”

“Captain…”

The shock wears off, and in its place, Rangiku lets out a bewildered laugh that bounces off the cave walls and stops Hitsugaya dead in his tracks. “Your bankai gave you the ability to grow up?! I should have brought my camera! No one will believe when I tell them about this!”

“That's not the point!” he snaps. "You’re not to say a word about this to anyone!"

It’s not enough to diffuse her exhilaration. “But, sir, look at you! The Women’s Association would make a killing off of photos prints!”

“Enough, Matsumoto! This is serious.” He lets a long-suffering sigh. “Stay there and watch, I don’t want you to get caught up in this.”

As he speaks, she notices the slight tremor running through him, as if he were struggling to hold something up. Himself? She can feel the immense reiatsu radiating off of him, filling every gap of this cave. She didn't realize it until he reign it in, and the freezing cold warms several degrees.

Hitsugaya nods his head to ground at her left. “Throw that over to the other side.”

Too bewildered to question it, she does as he says, picking up a rock the size of her hand and throwing it high. She watches it twirling through the air and narrowly miss a stalactite. Then, in a blink of an eye, it’s frozen in place by a line of ice. With a grunt she looks to Hitsugaya, his zanpakuto remains at his side, but his free hand is extended out, aimed at the rock.

He briefly glances over his shoulder at her, perhaps gauging her reaction. She can only offer widened eyes and chattering teeth, unable to speak a word.

Turning his attention to farthest wall of the chamber, he raises Hyourinmaru, slashing his zanpakuto in the air and sending a massive flurry of ice towards a cave wall. She’s never seen him conjured up this much in his strikes, or even from most of his other abilities.

He keeps going, showing new attacks she’s never seen, all more powerful than anything she’s witnessed him do before. Maybe the shock hadn’t worn off -- that the excitement she’d felt before had been a symptom of it -- but now it has, and her awe is tempered by fear. Not of him, but of this power.

She’s known him for decades, was there at the start of his life as a Shinigami. She’d encouraged him to set out on this path, to learn about the powers residing in him. To think ti could lead to this...

Without warning,she remembers that night, that child helplessly looking over at the Granny he was unknowingly harming. She’d felt the power radiating off him in uncontrolled waves when she’d bumped into him at the stall earlier that day. She would never seek out a Soul the way she had, but she knew that power needed to be contained, that he could -- maybe already had -- hurt others without realizing. He hadn’t been hard to find, the cold waves flowing from his home all the way to the second street of the Junrinan.

She’d wanted him to find a way to control that power, so others wouldn’t be harmed, but she also knew that feel of having something deep within, unable to voice exactly what it was but knowing it lay there, waiting for you to discover it. That feeling could be all consuming if not explored, a gnawing that ate away at a Soul like an opportunity not taken, a path one was afraid to tread. In his own way, Gin had taught her that when he’d told her why she was experiencing hunger.

At some point he stops and turns to her. She has to look away from the ice that coats every wall of the cave except the one she has her back to. He stares at her, waiting. For her assessment? Her judgement? To see if she was afraid of him? Something in the softens. He's come a long way, but deep down, he's still that boy from the Junrinan, isolated and not knowing why others were scared of him.

She's speechless, but after a drawn out breaths, she finally says, "How did you discover this?"

He blinks, and the slightest smirk twitches at the corner of his lips. "Training, Matsumoto. How else?"

She shakes her head. "No, I mean, what led you to...?" It dawns on her what she really wants to ask. "Why did you discover this?"

The question sobers him. His shoulders fall a fraction when he lets out a long, silent exhale. Something changes in his eyes. There's the usual steeliness, but there's also something somber. “Because I needed to.”

It makes her sigh. They been over this before, several times, but it seems it's never enough to quell his guilt. "It wasn't your fault, Captain. You couldn't have known."

"That's not it." A half-truth, she can tell, but she doesn't call him out on it.

He's steadfast, gripping Hyourinmaru tighter and slowly stepping towards her, his encased feet crunching over the ice. “We’ve faced threats that can destroy our world or any of the others. Who’s to say there won’t be others in the future? The Soul Society needs to be prepared, both in it's infrastructure and it's soldiers.” He stops a meter away from her. "If a captain isn't prepared, then how can those he commands be?"

She wants to say something encouraging, but nothing comes. She overcome by something she never thought she'd feel in a moment like this.

He must see the guilt building up within her, because he frowns and takes another tentative step to her. "Matsumoto?"

She shakes her head. "I won't tell anyone about this," she says. "What you've achieved, Captain...it's incredible. There's no other word for it. You should be proud of what you've accomplished."

Her words are sincere -- if stilted by the conflict of emotions running through her -- but his furrowed brow only eases a fraction. He raises Hyourinmaru, staring down at the hilt. "It's not what I expected when I started training. I never thought --"

He hisses. When he stumbles back while clutching his side, Rangiku lunges off the wall. "Captain?"

"Stand back!" he orders with a wince. "I have to...have to --"

Without warning, a fresh wave mist and cold blasts into the cave. Rangiku falls back against the cave wall, once again protecting her face from the force. Like last time, it dies down, but she can hear the gasping breaths of her captain. She rushes through the mist, almost slipping on ice to get to him. "Sir!"

She comes to an abrupt stop, nearly crashing into him. He's doubled over, panting and clutching Hyrouinmaru. He raises his head after a beat. He's back to normal. It's a stark contrast to the man he'd been, enough to stun her for a moment.

"Are you all right?" she asks, ready to ease him up.

He gives a curt nod before righting himself with a grunt. "I'll be fine. Changing back...can be painful." Before she can ask, he raises a hand. "Don't call Fourth Division, I don't need them."

She's not so sure, judging from the way he stiffly sheathes Hyourinmaru across his back and half hobbles over to his folded up uniform. She gets there ahead of him, picking it up and handing it to him.

"Thanks," is all he offers before she takes her queue to leave and let him get changed. She walks to the cave's entrance, but comes to a stop once she's back in the sunlight. She recalls the moments before they arrived. To think this is what he's been keeping from everyone.

He'd achieved something she's never witnessed in her life. Perhaps it's something no one in the entire Soul Society has ever witnessed or thought even possible. He could gain abilities that shouldn't be available to him, that have enough force to literally freeze a threat in it's tracks to the bone.

She should be honored to have been a force behind this, to have been the one to guide him on the path to honing and controlling his powers. The Soul Society has always viewed him as a valuable asset on the battlefield and in leadership, but now he could turn the tides in a war, may even be the only Shinigami they will need to send to neutralize a threat as powerful as an Espada.

It's an incredible feat, but a sad one. Her captain hasn’t been a child for decades, but by Rukongai standards he’s still too young for this line of work. A prodigy, but still young.

For the first time, she wonders if she’d done the right thing by telling him to seek out a way to control his power. Of course she had, she protected others from being harmed and he's proven himself to be one of the greatest recruits the Academy turned out. But was it right to have let him get to this point? To the point where he felt he wasn't enough, that he needed to transform himself so completely. She had no direct hand in those things, but they'd happened, and might not have if she hadn't guided him that day. What if she'd approached him a bit later in life? His Granny would still be freezing, perhaps even pass away from it, and he'd never know he might have been the cause. She saved the woman's life, and him from heartache -- from that one at least.

She hears his footsteps coming up behind her, echoing through the cave. She turns, unsure what face to make. She keeps her expression neutral, and he does the same. The larger uniform is folded back over his arm.

He stops directly at her side, gaze not faltering. The only sounds in the silence are the rustle of leaves when a breeze blows through, tussling his hair and sweeping hers over her shoulders.

"Captain?" she asks eventually.

He turns his attention to the ground. "Now that you know about Hyrouinmaru's Completed Form, it might prove to be useful."

She blinks. "How so?"

"For one, you'll know what to expect in battle should I ever have to use it. Given the toll it can take on me physically, it's a last resort. I also don't know every ability this form can afford me yet. I have to build my endurance so it can last longer before I need to transform back."

He lifts his head, looking ahead to the path they'd trekked to get here. "If I have a sparring partner, it might help me to unlock other abilities. It would help you to understand how these abilities work too, how we can incorporate Haineko's shikai into it."

She can't help but let out a huff. "My powers are nothing compared to that form." She ignores the indignant growl from Haineko in the back of her mind.

"It's not true," Hitsugaya says. "At the Academy, regardless of skill level, we're encouraged to integrated powers together."

She shrugs. "I suppose."

Another pause, and she can sense him considering his words. This is what he's truly been wanting to say since he left the cave.

"They also taught us to protect Humans and our friends," he eventually says. "Soon, I'll be able to do that once I've perfected my bankai."

Guilt comes back to the forefront, causing her to look away and cross her arms.

"I never thought my training would lead to me to this," he continues. "I'm glad it has. I can protect those who can't protect themselves. I can control my abilities so they don't harm others."

He returns his gaze to her. "I apologize again for the uniforms."

She waves a dismissive hand.

"I also appreciate that you came out here, and..."

She can't help but quietly gasp. Does he know? Had it been that obvious? Did he just thank her? She says nothing, afraid of interrupting him or discouraging him from continuing. Ever since Aizen's defeat, he's been more open with his emotions, but he's still prone to being stoic or reserved as his default.

She locks her gaze with his, deciding to risk it in the end. "Sir, I know you couldn't give me a full explanation for how you acquired the Completed Form, but if I'm going to be training with you, I'll need to know."

He raises a brow, as if what she said was a given -- and knowing him it was.

She steps closer to him. She nods to Hyourinmaru's hilt. "That includes Hyourinmaru's Completed Form. It will take a lot of training, and...I can't imagine what it felt like to discover it."

His eyes flash and then quiver in a way that says it all: it was near life-changing, the answer he's been seeking this whole time.

"Please remember, sir," she continues. "It's not only you who has to do protect others. It's all of our duty as Shinigami to protect and serve the Soul Society and those that will one day come to it." Then, a little more light-hearted. "Besides, it's my duty as a lieutenant to support the Tenth Division and to have your back, always."

He's stunned at first. Then, the faintest smirk shapes his lips and he gives a conceding nod. "With the exception of the last part, you've spoken like an Academy lecturer."

She expects him to end this conversation there, to snort and say something to the effect of, "Now, we need to head back."

Instead, he nods again and begins down the trail. "I already know I can count on you. We've worked this long together. Even before all of this...I chose this path after you showed it to me." Then, so quiet she isn't even sure he says it, "...Thank you."

She can't move for several heartbeats. She gets the impression it's not what he truly wants to say, another half-truth. Perhaps, more accurately, a part of a sentence that's incomplete. Still, the guilt dissipates.

It's enough for now, and she allows the warmth of pride swell through her heart without any shame. Is this how it feels to be proud of a younger sibling? It must be.

She's quick to catch up to him, grinning despite overly sad sigh she lets out. "Well, if nothing else, that form has given me a glimpse into future, and Captain, you're going be a heart-breaker."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he grouses.

"Oh, nothing." Then, quickly to herself. "As is, I'm certain you only have eyes for one person, and by the time you tell her, you'll probably be the same age as that form."

"Oi, speak up!"

"I didn't say anything!" She's the perfect picture of innocence with her shrug, but he only rolls his eyes.

"About that training," she continues, "I'll help you."

He nods. "Good. We can start tomorrow."

"Oh, sorry, no can do, sir. The Women's Association is going to a hot spring tomorrow."

"I didn't sign off on you doing that!"

"You didn't need to! I'm a grown woman, you know?" She snickers. "Although now you can become a grown man anytime you want now, huh?"

"Oh, shut up!" he growls. He folds his arms, and grumbles, "This is what I get for showing you."

She laughs, high and loud. "I feel so privileged to be the only one to know!"

"...With how loud you are, someone else might know about it now."

"Oh no, Captain, don't worry." She puts a finger to her lips and winks at him. Then, in a loud whisper, "You're secret's safe with me."

He only snorts derisively.

"Although..." She taps a her finger to her chin. "Those missing uniforms DID get noticed."

She doesn't have to look over to know his temp and eye twitch.

"I have a few ideas. You're either going to have to return them as soon as your training is done each day, or you use the same uniform and put it in for cleaning on a day you don't do training." And because she can't help, because she'd planned to do it to whoever she caught, "I would suggest the latter, because, if I remember right, didn't you once say to the new recruits that one must honor their uniform because of what it represents? That one could do that by making sure it's clean and repaired when torn and only get one, one, replacement when it's beyond repair or doesn't fit anymore, right?"

"...You're enjoying this way too much."

She smirks. "I don't know what you mean."

She shakes his head. "You've actually put some thought into hiding this, huh?"

"Hey, I can come up with good ideas!"

"I didn't even say they were good ones."

"Do you want me to help you keep a secret or not?"

"All right, all right!" He rubs the side of neck. "Discovering the Completed came as a shock, I wasn't thinking straight and didn't come up with a plan."

The fact he even admits that makes her do a double take. Yes, he's more open with how he's feeling, but to admit that he, the one Soul she knows who can't even go visit his Granny on his breaks without a schedule in place before he leaves, didn't have a plan.

"Well, as your lieutenant, may I suggest the last option?"

"Why that one?"

"Because you need to take breaks from training. You've come such a long way since you've started, and I meant what I said before, that you should be proud of what you've achieved, but it's okay to focus on other things." She's almost tempted to reach out and touch his shoulder as a reassurance, but resists. "You said before you did this so you could become strong enough to protect others from a threat like what we faced months ago. You've done that, and while there's still more you can learn about this Completed Form, isn't it enough for now?"

The furrow in his brow deepens as he considers her words. It's a long moment later when he raises his head.

"Fine, we'll do the last one." He hefts up the folded uniform. "But I'll clean it myself."

Responsible to a fault, but at least he's chosen it.

She smiles. "Good."

#bleach returns 2024 #toshiro hitsugaya #rangiku matsumoto #brotp: I've got your back #hitsuhina #if you squint #bleach #fanfiction #is it a little corny and out of character at the end?#yes #I will likely rewrite this scene (the ending particularly) for An Unwavering Light #but I feel like it needed to end with Rangiku knowing Toshiro chose this life #she gave him the option (perhaps the only right now) but it was ultimately he who chose to take it

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666writingcafe · 9 months ago

Text

A Surprise Visit

Author's Note: This is the official start of my season three rewrite. To quickly recap how I ended season two, MC basically convinces Solomon to live with them in their home instead of the two of them going their separate ways. That's number one. Number two is I'm axing the whole babysitter gig setup, because I feel like it's a bit unnecessary (and weird).

So, without further ado, the first part of lesson 41 is under the cut.

Solomon looks over my shoulder and examines the potion I prepared in the cauldron.

"Nicely done," he remarks. "Just the right shade of blue."

"Thanks," I reply, quickly glancing up at him.

"You know, you've done a nice job keeping up with everything I've taught you. You're certainly one of my better apprentices." I chuckle.

"I mean, I would like to not destroy my home."

"Or any surrounding ones." I turn my full attention to him, confused as to why he would say that. He merely shrugs as he adds,

"It's happened before."

"I see." Should I be worried?

"Anyway, you almost have the fundamentals down. Pretty soon, you'll be able to get your Sorcerer's License, and I can begin teaching you summoning magic."

"I'm sure the brothers would appreciate that."

"Oh, probably. They like you alright." His smirk indicates that he wants to start bantering with me. He does it on a daily basis, and I've gotten pretty good at coming up with good responses on the fly.

Suddenly, someone knocks on my door.

"I'll get it," Solomon states, patting me on the shoulder and kissing me on the temple before leaving the room. I take the opportunity to begin pouring my potion--a serum that causes people to change size--into the bottles Solomon set up in front of me.

Just as I finish filling the first bottle, Solomon returns.

"It would seem as though the brothers got tired of waiting," he tells me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, setting the cauldron down.

"Surprise!" Asmo pops his head in the room and waves excitedly at me.

At least, I think it's Asmo. His hair's a lot longer than usual, and his choice of makeup makes him look rather feminine.

As he steps into full view and reveals his outfit--a spaghetti tanktop, a denim miniskirt that barely covers his crotch, and strappy high heels--I realize that he's in drag. And it looks good.

Has he done this before?

"You alright, MC?" Solomon asks, walking over and touching my shoulder.

"I'm sure they are," Asmo answers before I can open my mouth. "They're just in awe of my beauty."

"Just the same as always," Solomon quips, causing Asmo to stick his tongue out at him.

"What are you doing here?" The question comes out a lot more quietly than I was expecting. Maybe it's because I can't stop staring at Asmo. For once, he's right; I am in awe.

"Here in your home, or here in the human world?"

"B-Both, I guess." Asmo clasps his hands together.

"Well, after you left, Diavolo started making plans for us to come visit you in the human world. He and Lucifer bought a property nearby, and we've been working on making it our own for a few months. We just finished last week." He briefly pauses. "I've actually been sent to pick you up and take you over there. That is, if that's alright with your teacher over there." He smiles at Solomon, who nods his head.

"I think we've reached a good stopping point for today," he replies, glancing over at me.

"Great! I'll help you pack." Huh?

"Asmo!" I call out before he can go too far.

"Yes, MC?" He bats his eyes at me, and I have to force myself to focus.

"As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, I can't spend the night. I have to work tomorrow." Asmo stares at me blankly. "You know...the job that helps me pay my bills?"

"Oh right! You don't have to worry about that for a while." That can't mean what I think it means.

"Asmo...what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. It was all Diavolo." He didn't...

"MC isn't like you guys," Solomon pipes up. "They rely on their job to make ends meet. It's not like they can just leave at will." This makes Asmo widen his eyes.

"No, no, no! It's not like that at all!" he exclaims. "MC, you still have your job. Diavolo just arranged for you to be on vacation until we returned to the Devildom." He walks over and clasps my hands. "I am so sorry for worrying you like that, MC." I sigh.

"That only covers part of it. What about--"

"Check your bank account."

"What?"

"I got it," Solomon states, leaving the room and returning with my laptop. Once he pulls up my online account, he shows the screen to me, revealing...

"Is that four zeros?"

"It appears so, yes." He clicks on the checking account to view transaction details. "It looks like Diavolo's been transferring money to your account. At least, I assume that's who 'David Prince' is." Asmo nods his head.

"We thought it best to adopt human alias while we were here." Well, that explains the drag. "I decided to go with Azzy."

"The name suits you," I tell him, still staring at the screen.

I can't believe that Diavolo went out of his way to do something like this for me. It's not like I've ever expected him to provide for me or anything.

"So, am I good to start packing?" Asmo asks.

"Sure." I make sure to follow him as he enters my room. If I leave him unsupervised, there's no telling what he'd do in there.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me solomon #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #inspo for asmo in drag: sugar from rupaul's drag race #also #reason for the money thing #felt it necessary to justify mc spending all their time with the obey me crew while they were in the human world #after all #it's not like they're an exchange student anymore #and since everyone's gonna be in the same realm #it's not like they can rely on time differences #and i'd like to think that mc has a life separate from the boys #that was already established before the start of the exchange program #end of mini tag essay

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dreamersbcll · 1 year ago

Text

“Ink Blots”

for @krikeymate

2/4

—————————————————————————

May 30th, 2017

Dear Sam,

It’s strange. I don’t hate you anymore. I don’t really know if I did, but I don’t anymore.

A whole year and then some. You’re gone. I kept thinking you would come home and love me again. That front door never opened. I never felt your warmth creep back in.

It’s strange. The house is colder without you. I can never get warm. Even in the summer heat, I’m shivering. It’s like you took all the warmth and sun to wherever you went.

Mom isn’t really here anymore. She got a new job. She travels a lot. Don’t worry; she still drinks. And she still hits. But I don’t have to see her as much anymore.

Amber stays over a lot now. I mean, more than usual. It’s as if she can’t get enough of me. It’s weird having someone crave me. It’s been a while. A long while.

Even when you were here, you weren’t here. I guess it was those pills you took. You floated up and away, and I could never quite reach you.

I have to go. Amber wants to watch the sunset at Cedar Park.

Your sister, Tara.

——

July 4th, 2017

Dear Sam,

It’s the fourth of July. Do you remember when we used to call you Uncle Sam for fun? And you wore that stupid top hat and ridiculous striped shirt? Chad even gave you a fake white beard. Mindy took so many pictures. I still have them, if you’re wondering.

It was stupid. But it was fun. You always made me laugh. You always made me smile. This holiday is ridiculous and meaningless, but it’s another holiday you’re not here for.

I didn’t see the fireworks last year. I don’t think I'll see them this year. I can only imagine how the fireworks reflect in your eyes and how big you smile. You outshined the lights in the sky every time.

In hindsight, I should’ve told you that. I should’ve told you all the little things that I love about you. Like how you used to squeeze my hand three times every time we had a serious talk; or how you would kiss my head when I pretended to be asleep.

The little things. That’s all I have now.

I hope you enjoy the fireworks this year. They should be good.

Your little, little sister, Tara.

——

September 3rd, 2017

Dear Sammy,

I really need you. It’s my first day of high school. I’m fucking terrified. I need you, Sammy. I’m so scared.

What if they hurt me? What if they push me around? What if I raise my hand to talk and forget everything? Who is going to help me with homework and tests?

I’m so scared. I’m not ready for this.

Please send love.

Your baby sister, Tara.

——

November 1st, 2017

Dear Sam,

Sorry that I haven’t written in a while. The school has been challenging. I never realized how much I needed to pay attention. I get why you were so distant. Even though I was too much, high school was probably hard too.

I’m hungover. Amber threw a Halloween party. I dressed as Uncle Sam. And drank a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever been so sick in my life. I’m writing this letter from the bathroom floor.

I know you never wanted me to drink, and I never wanted to end up like Mom. But alcohol is so delightful. It turns the volume down and makes everything more manageable. I understand why you drank now. I feel stable.

I know once this hangover clears up, I’ll feel awful. But right now, on Amber’s bathroom floor, I think I will be okay. Nauseous, but okay.

When did you first get hungover?

From, Tara.

——

December 13th, 2018

Dear big sister,

Tomorrow is my birthday. I am turning fifteen.

Fifteen is the year you first got arrested. I remember that night well. Mom nearly put her fist through the living room china cabinet. You swore a lot and then slammed your door so hard that I cried.

Funny how time shakes out. I’m fifteen, too afraid to do anything in case you return. You do know you can come back, right?

If you don’t find what you’re looking for, or in case you get bored of running, you can come back. You always can.

Just, don’t wait forever. I don’t think I’ll make it much longer without you.

Can I say I love you? I do. I love you, Sam.

I hope you still love me.

Love, Tara.

——

January 1st, 2018

Dear Sam,

I miss you.

Love, Tara.

——

February 14th, 2018

Dear Sam,

It’s Valentine’s Day. You always hated that day. You hated the cheap cards and stupid chocolates. You always said it was just a holiday meant to sell cards.

I know your secret, though. I know you got me cards and gifts and candies so I would know I was loved. I should’ve done it back. I was just so delighted to know you cared. I was afraid to acknowledge that one day you would go, and I would have to buy my flowers.

Well. You did go much earlier than expected. Amber bought me flowers. Red roses. And she gave me a little card telling me how much she loved me.

It’s sweet. I love her too. She’s my best friend. But I’m not too fond of flowers. I like lilies.

Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers.

I am sending love and cheesy hallmark cards, Tara.

——

April 26th, 2018

Dear Sam,

I hurt myself today. To see if I still feel.

It turns out I do. Just enough. The razor blade was sharper than I thought.

I’m not stupid, Sam. I saw the marks on your arms and legs. I know what a cigarette burn looks like. You were never kind to yourself. Why did you expect me to be kind to myself?

I don’t know what you were punishing yourself for. I don’t know why you felt that the final straw had to be deserting me.

Jesus Christ, Sam, can you not see how awful it’s been for me? How lonely and miserable am I? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t function without you. I’m fucking lost.

It’s almost two years since you left. And I’m still right here in this gutted house, in that same lonely room. I yell at the sky, but God doesn’t listen. I hurt myself to try and reconcile with the fact that I push away every person I’ve ever loved. I write letters to someone who would never receive them.

It’s fucked up, Sam. What you did was fucked up.

Fuck you. Tara.

——

May 12th, 2018

Dear Sam,

You told me you loved me. Why did you go away?

Amber says I need to get over you. That two years means you’re never coming back. That you’ve moved on and you’ve found things that make you happier. Maybe so. But I thought the happiest thing in your life was me.

What the hell did I do?

Everybody around me keeps growing up, keeps finding new things. Mindy is the captain of the debate team. Chad is the only freshman to crack the football squad. Amber is the co-captain of the forensics team.

I’m still here. Alone. Waiting for you. Everyone tells me I need to move on, join clubs, and find new hobbies.

I can’t. And that’s your fault.

I hate you.

(Spoiler alert. I don’t. I fucking love you)

Please come home.

Love, Tara.

(Do you love me?)

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #ao3 author #my writing tag #ink blots au

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shion-yu · 8 months ago

Text

False Alarm

Sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. An early Cliff and Theo/Al story, mostly fluffy banter and then some angst. 2,810 words, no TWs but CWs low intensity hospital setting, transplant talk, mention of internalized homophobia.

Cliff wasn't sure what to make of Theo, the lawyer he was doing his summer internship with before he started his first semester at NYU. When Cliff thought about what a lawyer should look like, he had certain expectations. A lawyer was extremely formal, never smiled or laughed, never asked questions, and always wore a suit. The only one of these qualities that Theo possessed was the suit wearing, and even then he could occasionally be caught wearing khakis and a button down.

The craziest thing about Theo though, was that he was openly gay and no one seemed to care. It floored Cliff. His mom had always looked down on gay couples they saw in public. She looked down on everyone, but especially people who "chose" to stand out. Yet here Theo was, with a big office overlooking the financial district and an incredible case record under his belt and nobody ever seemed to disrespect him. He even had a picture of his partner on his desk where anybody could see, including the clients who came for consultations and business partners whose opinions really mattered. Cliff didn't understand how Theo got away with it, but he did. It definitely left an impression.

This particular day though, Theo seemed frazzled and distracted. Cliff was sitting across from him in Theo's office just having his weekly check-in with the lawyer. Theo usually seemed very put together and focused, but today he kept checking his personal cell phone on his desk like he was waiting for something. "So Cliff," Theo said, "Still think you'd like to go to law school after your first month here?"

"I think so," Cliff said. He tried not to watch as Theo glanced at his phone yet again. "I like the research. And I like going to court."

"You've certainly got the brains for it," Theo said. "When you're at NYU, take lots of diverse classes. Everything can always tie back into law and make you better at practicing it."

"Thanks," Cliff said.

"No problem," Theo said casually, but he was immediately distracted when his phone buzzed with a call. He looked at the caller ID and nearly jumped out of his seat. "Sorry Cliff, I've got to take this," Theo said hurriedly. "You're fine here, just, hey, pour yourself a coffee or something." Theo motioned to the full coffee pot on one of his other desks and then stopped paying attention to Cliff.

Cliff tried not to be nosy and listen, but it was hard not to when they were in the same room. He made himself a cup of coffee even though he preferred tea and sipped awkwardly. He hoped it gave the impression he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation Theo was having that clearly was not about work. "Are you sure that's all it is?” Theo was saying, his voice concerned. “Tomorrow? What time? Does he need to stay overnight? NPO after midnight? Okay. Yes, of course. Thank you Doctor."

Theo set his phone down, took a deep breath and then sat back in his office chair. "Sorry Cliff," he said. "You can come back now."

Cliff awkwardly returned to his seat a cross from Theo, placing the steaming cup of coffee on a coaster at the edge of Theo's desk. "That was my partner's doctor, I've been waiting for that call, sorry to be so distracted," Theo said. "He's going to the hospital for a minor procedure tomorrow, so I probably won't see you for the rest of the week."

"Oh," Cliff said. What else was he supposed to say? "I hope he's okay."

"He's fine, thank you," Theo said. "He's got a port, I don't know if you're familiar, it's like an IV in his chest. Anyways, it got infected so they're replacing it with a new one." Cliff honestly had no idea what Theo was talking about, but it sounded serious. It seemed Cliff wasn't very good at hiding his expression, because Theo added, "He's got a disease called cystic fibrosis, so he's in and out of the hospital a lot. I don't want to say it's not a big deal, but well, it's not an emergency. Don't worry."

"Okay," Cliff said. He nodded to the framed photo on Theo's desk. In it, a slightly younger Theo had one arm slung over the shoulders over a guy with curly dark hair, thick glasses and dimples. "That's him, right?"

"Yup," Theo confirmed. "His name's Al. He's a good guy." The way Theo was smiling as he said this was different from the way Theo usually smiled at everybody else. Cliff didn't know how to define it - fond, perhaps? "Next time he comes around I'll let you meet him. You'd like him." Now Theo had a weirdly knowing look on his face, as if he understood something Cliff didn't.

"Sure," Cliff said. He was so confused.

His confusion didn't abate even when he did meet Al about three weeks later. Al was shorter than Theo and wore very casual clothing that stuck out in the law firm. His cheeks were pink compared to the rest of his olive skin, which Cliff soon realized was from coughing. Al coughed the entire time he was in the office to drop off a lunch for Theo, and he dragged a metal cylinder on wheels behind him that connected to clear oxygen tubing in his nose. Cliff was startled; the oxygen hadn't been in the picture, nor had he expected Al to sound quite so sick. But everybody else in the office seemed to know Al well and think nothing of it. Al himself seemed energetic and cheerful, which was not how Cliff pictured somebody sick in his head.

Still, Cliff wasn't used to sick people, even if Al was apparently not contagious. He was sort of hoping Theo had forgotten about his promise to let him meet Al, but Cliff had no such luck. "Al, this is my intern, Cliff Barrows," Theo said as he led Al right to Cliff's desk.

Obviously unable to hide when his boss stood right in front of him, Cliff stood up and forced a polite smile. "Nice to meet you," Cliff said, sticking his hand out to shake.

"Nice to meet you too! I finally meet the famous Cliff," Al grinned, shaking Cliff's hand. His grip was firm and sure, not weak at all.

"Famous in a good way," Theo reassured Cliff. "I told him all about what a good kid you are."

"Uh, thanks," Cliff said, trying to keep a questioning tone from creeping into his voice. He felt awkward standing right there in front of the two of them under scrutiny. "Um... I'm just gonna get back to work then," he said, sitting at his desk and typing something nonsensical into an open word document until he was sure the pair was no longer looking at him.

Cliff tried to look subtle as the two men walked away. Theo led Al towards his office with one hand around Al's back, Al coughing as they went, but he was also laughing. Cliff had no idea how he could seem so happy. Cliff had googled cystic fibrosis when Theo had mentioned it and it didn't really sound like a laughing matter to him. It sounded incurable and painful. Then again, Cliff supposed they couldn't be gloomy all the time. Or maybe even most of the time, since Al and Theo seemed to be normal unlike Cliff who could indeed go around with a perpetually serious look on his face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Al sat heavily in the chair on the client side of Theo's desk, coughing until Theo handed him a glass of water to sip on. "Thanks," he croaked, smiling up at his partner gratefully.

Theo sat across the desk from Al in his chair. Although Al got to see Theo in his formal attire every day before and after work, seeing him wear it at work always felt different. Theo carried himself so confidentially and spoke with such a professional tone, it honestly made Al want to grab his tie and kiss him right there in the office. Theo's desk had definitely seen some action after hours before.

"Stop looking at me like that," Theo said, opening up the salad Al had brought him.

"Like what? I don't know what you're talking about," Al said innocently.

Theo mixed a packet of dressing up with his salad. "Like I'm a piece of meat."

"Aren't you?"

Theo shook his head with a smirk. "You're so damn predictable," he said. "You keep your hands to yourself mister, I've got court later today. Thanks for the food."

"You're welcome," Al said. "By the way, you were so right about that Cliff kid."

"Right?" Theo said around a mouthful of lettuce. "He's definitely gay."

"So gay," Al agreed. "And adorably awkward.”

“He’s actually a better speaker than you might think,” Theo said thoughtfully. “When it comes to work stuff anyways,” he added, seeing Al’s incredulous look of doubt.

“He gave me the ‘wow, you must be dying’ look,” Al said. “You should probably tell him I’m fine. And that his face is an open book."

Theo shrugged. “I don’t know how reassuring ‘My partner’s fine, just waiting for a double lung transplant’ is, but sure, I’ll tell him.”

Al rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot,” he said sarcastically. “Anyways, I’m heading home. What do you want to eat tonight?”

“Anything. Shake Shack. Anything."

"So... Shake Shack," Al said.

"How did you know?" Theo grinned. "Okay, be careful on your way home baby. Wear your mask on the train."

"Ugh, Theo, it's July," Al whined, but Theo knew he would behave. Al was usually great about taking care of himself, but especially now when he couldn't risk any illnesses lest it ruin his chances of being on the transplant list. It was also why he tried not to leave the house much these days, but he'd had a doctors appointment a few blocks away so had taken the opportunity of already being out to visit Theo.

Theo kissed Al goodbye and watched his partner walk down the street from the windows in his office, dragging the wheeled oxygen tank behind him. He shook his head, wishing Al would just take a cab, but Al hated wasting money if he could do it the cheaper way and Theo suspected it was far more about independence than cost at this point in their lives.

They'd been together about five years now and had lived with each other since day one, having met as roommates. Theo had been in his last year of law school while Al was struggling after the death of his husband. At first they were just friends and that was enough. Right person, wrong time Theo thought, because it didn't seem like Al was ready for anything more. But then Al had gotten really sick and although he insisted Theo didn't need to worry about it, it was impossible. Theo spent every day studying at the hospital so that Al wouldn’t be alone until feelings became inevitable and Al made the first move. The rest was history.

Theo smiled to himself thinking about Al, absently eating his salad until he was interrupted by his phone ringing. It was Al, which was odd because Al had only just left his office. "Babe? You okay?" Theo answered.

"Meet me at the hospital," Al said in a breathless rush. "I’ve got lungs."

Theo was speechless. This was the moment they'd dreamed of for months, and it was happening now. Right now. "Theo?" Theo realized he hadn’t said anything in response.

"Holy shit. Holy shit, I love you so much. Yeah, okay, I'm coming."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

False alarms for this sort of thing should be illegal, Theo thought to himself angrily. The doctor had just left the room and explained he was so sorry, but the lungs weren't a perfect match after all. They were going to someone else - someone who wasn't Albert. Al had been congenial about it, nodding as if it didn't bother him. But Theo was livid and could barely contain his anger as the doctor closed the door.

The silence in the room was heavy. Al had been changed into a gown, given CHG bath and gotten labs done, and had his port hooked up to fluids. He sat there in the hospital bed where they'd waited with excitement for the past two hours, now lost for words.

"It's not fair," Theo said finally. His hands were balled into fists, which were shaking. "How can they do this?" Al was quiet. He looked out the window with a calmness that Theo didn't understand. "You're not mad?"

"No," Al said softly. "I'm not mad. Can we go home though?" He was already going for his clothes, unbuttoning his gown. "Hey, if you hurry you can still make it to court this afternoon."

Theo shook his head. "I don't care about court. I already told work I didn't know when I'd be back. They're going to be more surprised when I say nevermind."

"Sorry," Al said, as if he’d ruined a casual date and not lost the opportunity of a lifetime after it was crudely dangled in front of him.

"Don't apologize," Theo said. "If anything, this place should be apologizing to you. How are you so calm?"

Al shrugged. "Someone else is getting lungs. Someone who needs them. I'm not going to be mad about that."

Theo sighed. "You're right, but I'm still pissed. Can I be pissed for you?"

Al seemed to consider it for several seconds and then nodded. "Yeah. You can be pissed for both of us, okay?"

"I gotcha, baby," Theo said. He forced a tight smile at Al, who gave a tired smile back.

Al was discharged and they arrived home around dinner time. Theo was starving, but Al said he didn't feel like eating. Theo didn’t feel like seeing anybody else for the rest of the day, even a delivery driver, and ended up throwing a frozen pizza in the oven. He called Al to the table when it was ready, hoping the smell would entice him. "You should eat just a little," Theo said.

"I'm really not hungry," Al said quietly. "I just want to go to bed and have this day be over."

Theo felt a pang of pity and sighed. "I know. Just a few bites?"

Al finished half a slice and then shuffled off to bed. Theo ate the rest of the pizza alone, letting all the negative thoughts he was having get to him for just a few minutes. He chewed the pizza like it had personally done something offensive to him and then scrubbed the dishes clean, his stomach aching from eating too much. Then, he took a shower and forced himself to let all the tension leave him. He imagined it swirling down the drain with the soapy water, leaving him exhausted but calm. As upset as Theo was, Al was the one these things were happening to. He had to be strong for Al.

Theo went to the bathroom, now in fresh pajamas and ready to be there for his partner. Al was lying on his side but not asleep and peeked over his shoulder at Theo. Theo sat next to him on bed and rested a hand on Al's arm. "Should we talk about it?" He asked.

"Nah. What is there to talk about?" Al said in his usual gentle tone. If Theo didn't know any better, he'd think Al didn't care, or was totally fine. But he also knew that wasn't possible and Al hid his feelings well.

"What happened today was kind of crazy," Theo said carefully. "Crazy and honestly... not okay. It was like the biggest news of your life and then the biggest let down. It's a lot to take in."

Al sat up and looked at Theo. His green eyes were always so forbearing. "It is a lot," he said. "But ya know, I'm not as upset as I thought I'd be. Coz when I got the call, I didn't think, 'I'm going to live.' All I could think was, if I die, I'm not ready. So... Maybe today just wasn't the right time."

Theo hadn't expected Al to say anything like that. He swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat and took Al's hands in his own. "You're right. It wasn't meant to be, and maybe it was for the better."

Al nodded in agreement, leaning forward to press his forehead against Theo's. "I love you, Theo," he said. "Thanks for being there for me."

"I love you too," Theo said, taking Al’s hands in his own and squeezing them. "And next time you get the call, it's going to be the right match."

#shionwrites #still working on p3 of a safe place but here #here’s SOMETHING my brain let me have #and also it's always a good time for some cute al/Theo right?#plus it's sort of prequel-y #oc: albert #oc: theo #oc: cliff #whump #emotional whump #medical whump #oc sickfic #angst #hurt/comfort #sickfic #chronic illness whump #hospital setting #cystic fibrosis in fiction #illness whump

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aidenlyons · 8 months ago

Text

Once they return downstairs, Wyatt sits on the couch and pats his lap.

W: Here, lay down. You look tired.

C: Mm. I am. I doubt I got much sleep last night.

W: You don't remember?

C: No, I rarely do. At least not yet. Bits and pieces come back to me sometimes.

W: How long?

C: Years. Why?

W: You've been fighting it, all this time?

C: Yeah, of course. Been trying to find a cure. I don't like being this.. monster.

W: Oh, Chase... who told you you were?

C: I guess born werewolves are ok. The bitten ones are, though. In my experience.

W: Your experience?

C: It used to be my job. Tracking down dangerous supernaturals. I was a part of a team. Vampires, Werewolves.. Spellcasters.

W: That explains your reaction.

C: You're not like them though...

W: Neither are you, Chase.

C: You don't know that, Wyatt. Neither do I. I can't remember anything. There's so many people around. What if I hurt someone, infected them? Or worse, killed them?

W: I don't think you would kill someone. Wolves wouldn't kill unnecessarily. Where did you wake up?

C: On my back deck.

W: See? You probably stayed close to home, then.

C: Wish I had your faith.

W: Maybe you should stick around, then. I'll watch over you during a full moon. And maybe we can help you make peace with your wolf.

C: Not sure that's possible, but it sounds nice.

Wyatt knows when to let sleeping dogs lie and switches topics and positions.

W: This necklace you always wear, it's not a werewolf thing, is it?

C: No. It was the symbol of my team. Me and three others, we were military. It's pretty much all I have from that life.

W: Did your friends reject you, after?

C: They.. I don't think they know. After, I was in no shape to see them. I had no control. And I was... scared. If I'm honest. I didn't want to die.

W: But they were your friends?

C: They also had a job to do. Couldn't risk it.

W: For years, they.. what? Thought you disappeared? Are dead?

C: Dead, probably. There was a lot of blood, when I was attacked.

W: Oh, Chase.. My poor wolf. If they were really your friends, they deserve to know you're alive.

C: I don't even know where they are, now.

Chase sits up, feeling vulnerable which makes him feel restless.

C: And you? How'd you get here?

W: Me? Much more boring. I'm from Willow Creek, my Grandmere could talk to spirits. My father is a Spellcaster and all he'll will say about my mother is that she's a free spirit.

C: And your magic?

W: Inherited from my father, mostly. But it.. never worked right. According to my father and teachers, it's too.. wild. Too unpredictable for spell work.

C: How'd you figure out the moon magic thing?

W: That was... a mistake, actually. My father took me to the park in Willow Creek one night, to practice control over my magic. For the first time I felt a sense of calm, of control. Instinctively I pulled on the moon's magic. Something.. happened.

W: My father says it's as if I was infused by the Moon's magic. My hair, my skin, it all changed that night, right in front of my father.

W: My father bought me these cuffs not long after and I started training with new teachers. As long as I pay attention, my spells are pretty effective.

Chase is surprised and for a moment, silent. That sounds so surprising and yet Wyatt might be talking about the weather.

C: I feel like I'm always running away, but I do need to get some sleep.

W: Okay. I should work tonight anyway. Come back tomorrow?

C: ... yeah, Wyatt. I'll come back tomorrow. Thanks for today. It was the best day-after I think I've ever had.

Wyatt wants to tell him he could have it after every full moon, but cornering an animal never worked well for anyone. Chase's senses and his instincts are too close to the surface right now to suggest it. So for once Wyatt holds his tongue.

W: You're welcome. I'm glad you came to me. Thanks for letting me pamper you a little.

C: Hm. Maybe next time it'll be my turn to pamper you.

W: Go on. Get some sleep. We'll see how things look tomorrow.

C: Yeah. Goodnight, Wyatt.

#simblr #sims 4 #show us your story #the sims 4 #Chase Wolfhart #Wyatt Calderon

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paigenoelchas-blog · 2 years ago

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Feels Like Home

28: Plans

Mahri's POV:

"It has been more than I would have expected. He is unbelievable. He knows just how to drive me wild...Yes, a lot more adventurous and the things he says and how he lowers his voice to say them, turns my stomach into butterflies. I can not resist him...I am doomed and that is part of the problem. Wait, let me text you, he may come back inside any minute and I don't want him to hear."

I move to the couch, closer to the fire, missing the warmth that he brings to my life. The thought of the last few days makes me grin, well, more than grin, It makes me smile from ear to ear. He is a wonderful secret that I am lucky enough to get to know. He not only treats me with so much love and respect, but he also pays attention to all of the things that I whisper. He seems to know what I need without asking.

I have been amazed at how easily our worlds melded over the last few days. I love waking up to the smell of coffee, knowing that I am the first thing that he thinks about when he wakes up as he is mine. I love falling asleep and feeling safe and warm, trying to make him feel my love as we fall asleep tangled up in each other.

I also love his intuition in the area of a scandalous nature. When he gets in the bedroom, he can be gentle and incredibly loving and the next moment, turn into a dominating presence, controlling our movement, pacing, and ultimately our satisfaction. I trust him. In the past, I always had to have some form of control, with him I can be free to enjoy the lovely things he wants to show me. His hands move across my body as if I am a precious treasure one moment and the next, he becomes more desirous, grappling and taking my body as if I am his prey. It is the perfect amount of gentleness and desire.

He is the perfect mix of a love that is pure and holy, dangerous and completely sinful. I am lost to it and to him.

I love him in so many ways. He is right, though, we are going to have to figure some things out before the fears of the past threaten the happiness of our tomorrows.

This is why I absolutely need to talk to Jessy. She has the words that I need to hear and will tell me the right move to make.

I pull the blanket up over my lap and settle in. I have a feeling this conversation may last a while.

Mahri: Ok, now I can talk freely. Well, I can text freely. If I hang up expectedly it is because he has returned and I have a promise to fulfill.

Jessy: Do I want to know what the promise is?

Mahri: Probably, but I am not going to tell you. :)

Mahri: I need your advice.

Jessy: Where do we start?

Jessy: So, you should be happy that you two have shared these last few days and that you can't resist him. This is what you want right?

Mahri: I am incredibly happy. So much so that I don't know what I will be like when the world returns to normal.

Mahri: I have just gotten used to our life here together.

Mahri: I think I have really screwed things up for myself.

Jessy: What do you mean by you screwed things up for yourself?

Mahri: I have just felt, for the past few days, that this is where I belong, in this house, with him. When life goes back to normal, there will be many days that I won't see him. He travels and I work weird hours. I don't know if I can go back.

Jessy: What are you saying exactly?

Mahri had the feeling that her friend knew exactly what she was saying, but she also knew that she had to be able to admit it in order to push the fear aside. Jessy was making her come to terms with her own thoughts.

Mahri: I want to be with him all of the time and I want us to be in the same house.

Mahri: In this cabin in the woods.

Mahri: I want us to live a life together.

Mahri: I want to wake up next to him and spend our nights together and I sound pathetic.

Jessy: You sound like you are in love and found the one that you want to be with. What is the problem with that?

Jessy: By the way, I am proud of you for admitting that and confronting the fears in your life.

Mahri: I guess these fears are nothing compared to werewolves.

Jessy: I would have paid to see you punch that guy.

Mahri: It was definitely something and afterwards... Jake was very...

I send the text and stop to think of the bar after the incident and the kisses that made it impossible to return to the casual way things had been before. I have been lost in a memory for way too long when my phone dings..

Jessy: Very?

Mahri: appreciative of my ability to stand up for myself. I was rewarded.

Jessy: I bet you were.

I can almost see the smile on Jessy's face and feel the heat on my cheeks which are surely accompanied by a rosy tone.

Mahri: That is the problem. In that moment I knew that there was no going back. This time at the cabin with him has affirmed my position. I knew in that moment and I know now that this, he, is my forever, without a doubt.

Mahri: and now that I know, I don't want to wait another day for it to be a reality.

Jessy: So that is amazing news. Right?

Mahri: But I told him that I wanted to take it slow, remember? Now I have to wait for him to be brave enough to ask for more. He won't demand any further commitment for a long time. I made sure of that.

Jessy: Have you told him that your feelings have changed?

Jessy: Don't you think that his may have too?

Jessy: You said he has been much more confident in the last few days.

Mahri: That is different. That physical confidence comes from the heart. What I am talking about is a decision that is from the head.

Mahri: When and if he asks me to move to the next step it will be something that will have been analyzed from every direction. He is afraid of losing me because I walked away the last time he tried.

Jessy: That was months ago.

Mahri: Yes, but Jake has assured me that He will do "nothing that would risk our separation"

Mahri: He doesn't exactly know that he can't lose me now. Not ever.

Jessy: I think he knows, somehow.

Jessy: Have you tried to tell him that you aren't afraid anymore?

Mahri: I have made many suggestions and hinted at things.

Jessy: He is a man. Subtlety doesn't always work with them, sometimes you have to be direct and lay it out there. In words that he can't ignore.

Mahri: Maybe. I don't want to force him into anything.

Jessy: Are you kidding me? He would love to be with you too. I know it.

Jessy: He doesn't have to be the one to ask. You could be the one to ask him for more.

Mahri: Maybe, we will see.

Mahri: ...

Mahri: Enough of me. How are you and Dan doing?

Jessy: He is still a big dummy, but we are happy.

Mahri: Like together, officially, happy?

Jessy: Yes.

Jessy: Are you mad?

Mahri: Does he make you happy?

Mahri: Does he treat you well?

Mahri: Has he stopped drinking?

Jessy: Yes, like a queen, not a drop since that night at the bar.

Mahri: I am happy for you. We need to hang out. Dan is a lucky man.

Mahri: I have always loved Dan and now that we are all in a good place, I can't think of anything better than the two of you together.

Mahri: Maybe Dan can let Jake know how much I love him.

Jessy: I am sure that Jake knows, but if you want me to have Dan push him a little...

Mahri: Yes, please.

Mahri: So, dinner as soon as we can get out of the snow? You two can come to our place.

Jessy: Your place?

Mahri: His cabin is what I should have said.

Jessy: You said it right the first time.

Jessy: And yes, both of us would love dinner with the two of you.

Mahri: Perfect.

Mahri: Wait, he is there isn't he? Dan, I mean.

Jessy: Maybe...

Mahri: You two have been snowed in together as well?

Jessy: ;)

Mahri: I want to hear all of the details.

Jessy: Another day when we are alone. Being snowed in has been good for all of us, it seems.

Jessy: I have some of my own questions to ask you. I need more, but Danny Boy over here doesn't need to hear any of that.

Mahri: It would traumatize him even further, I suppose.

We both laugh and it feels good to be close again.

Meanwhile, Jake's POV:

I go check on the car to see if I could shovel us out. The weather isn't looking good, the snow has stopped, but the air is still freezing and the ice still clings to the walls and the path. The clouds hang low in the sky and the cold engulfs all of the open spaces. I can tell that we have a least a couple days left before we can dig our way out of this. Not that I hate anything about the idea of Mahri and I being locked inside our own world for a couple more days, but it gets us close to Christmas and I have one thing left to buy for her. I need to get out to get that done.

I start the engine and let the heater run a bit. Everything outside is covered in snow. I can't help but think of the last few days that we have shared. It has been a gift, not to only be with her but to be in this place without fear, in a world where time has seemed to stop and the problems of the real world are pushed aside. It is beautiful and I love all of the time that the two of us have been spending together.

I love everything about it actually. I love all of her ways and all of the ways that we work together from the intimate to the inane. Every instant with her is bliss, from the way that she lets me take control in the bedroom, the way that her body feels next to mine, the way her lips taste, the way that I feel when I am inside of her, the way that she screams my name and the husky tone her voice takes on when she is satisfied. These moments are exquisite. All of these things are amazing, but the things I love the most are the early morning when the world is asleep and she is in my arms, when I can fall asleep to the rhythm of her breathing. I love making her coffee in the morning and knowing the smile that she will have on her face. I love knowing that I shouldn't talk to her for at least half an hour until the coffee kicks in. I love that spot on the couch where we read stories and learn more about each other, the ways her legs intertwine with mine, and the ways she cuddles into my side the second we sit down. I love the way she chuckles in the dark and the way her intoxicating aroma follows her from room to room.

Mahri is always on my mind. I am never far away from her in my thoughts, though soon, when this snow clears, I won't have the day-to-day with her. Our time will be left to a date night here and there coffee in the mornings, maybe some time crammed in between meetings or travel. That isn't enough for me. Not anymore, not after the taste of what life would be like for us if we shared it together. I want to ask her to move in, but I am still afraid that I will scare her off, that she will run, and that I will be left with a broken heart that can't be repaired.

Deciding that my question couldn't wait any longer I texted Betty to see if she was available.

Jake: What are you up to?

Betty: Riding out a freakish storm.

Betty: What arre you up to?

Betty: How is Mahri?

Jake: She is well, how do you know she is with me?

Betty: Where else would she be?

Jake: At home with her friends, stuck in a car somewhere. She could be a million places really.

Betty: You would have found her, you would not have spent all of this time without her, the worry would have made you mad by now.

She is right. I would have found her, Betty always knows.

Betty: Why are you texting me all of this? Just call me, weirdo.

I dial her number, and the numbers hit quick and staccato. To say my fears out loud seems so vulnerable and pathetic, but she is right, this conversation will be better handled when we can actually hear each other's voice.

"Hey, ok, so what is going on?" Betty inquires, "...and what is that noise?"

"I am sitting out in the car, the heater is kind of loud." My teeth had finally stopped chattering and I was able to keep the cold from my voice.

"Why? Trouble in Paradise?" She asks though I know she knows the answer. This is not how I would react if there was trouble between the two of us.

"No, quite the opposite. It has been a wonderful few days," I admit.

"...So did you? You know... seal the deal?"

She can be so intrusive sometimes, and so annoying.

"Jakey?" She persists.

I refuse to answer for a moment, questioning the call in the first place. She isn't going to take it easy on me.

"Yes," I didn't want to respond to her inquiry. "But that is all of the information I am sharing on the subject. Ask Mahri if you want to know more. She may share with you whatever she likes." It seems that this moment should be shared between the two of us, but Betty wouldn't have let it go. "Why do you have to be so nosey?"

"I ask because I care." I can see her shruggung her shoulders. "So were you both satisified...or was it such a horrific experience having her and being snowed in that you have to hide out?"

"She is incredible." Damn it. She got a little more information than I would like to share. I don't want to disrespect Mahri in any way. " I am hiding out because I want to make sure that I have many more times with her."

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

" I don't want to be a dumbass."

"And you want your best friend to tell you that you either are or you are not being one?"

"Precisely." I answer quickly, "I want her to move into the cabin with me. I don't want to spend more time apart. I want everyday to have her in it. I waited too long to find her and be free to have a normal life."

"Then ask her to move in with you, dummy." I can almost hear the chuckle, but she manages to stifle the laugh and I am grateful for it.

"What if she says no? What if it is too soon?" I ask.

"What if it is not?" She has to answer this question with a question?

"I can't lose her." I admit.

"Ok, I know that you are scared. I know I told you to take it slow. I also know that it hasn't been long since that conversation, but i also know that she is crazy about you." I can hear the lightness in her voice and know her words are true. More importantly, I know that she has hope for the two of us.

"I am scared that she will run away," I continue.

"She won't, " Betty answers in complete confidence. "She is afraid of me. I told her that there would be repercussions for breaking you heart."

I appreciate her attempt at lightening the mood. "How do you know that she won't run?"

"She won't run from you. I don't think that she can live without you any more than you could without her."

"What makes you think that?" I ask even though I am pretty sure that I believe her.

"Were you there the night of the haunted house? Did you see the way you two acted as if no one else existed? Did you not see the way that she looked at you with eyes filled with so much more than love? Did you not feel how well she fit in your lap, how it felt to have her by your side?" Betty proposes a series of questions.

I know the answers.

She allowed for a long pause to let the memories of that night weave their way into my heart, then continued, "I know you did because you were beaming and the love that she had for you was shown right back at her through your own eyes. If I didn't like you both so much, I would have left. Disgusting."

"Disgusting? Do I have to mention all of the shenanigans that you and Philip shared that very same night?" I tease her.

"No, you do not." Her voice is firm, letting me know that I should drop the subject quickly.

"Do you think she will respond favorably if I ask her for more?" I realize my formal voice has returned. A habit that I have been trying to break.

I could hear her eye roll. Then the sigh, " That is a question I suppose that you should ask yourself. I am a firm believer in trusting your gut. You know the answer."

"I may think I know the answer, but I...."

She interrupts me, "Get your ass out of that car, walk into the house with purpose and kiss her like she has never been kissed before. Have your way with her, make her coffee, ask her to dance or rub her feet or whatever you two find romantic. Tell her how you feel. It doesn't have to be a magical place with flowers and roses...."

I interrupt her this time, "Maybe not roses, but what about peonies?"

"Oh, the man has a plan. Do you want to run it by me first? You know to make sure that you aren't going to be a dumbass?" I hear the smile. She loves a good plan and I know she will tell me all of the details that I have not imagined yet.

"I think so," I respond with laughter in my voice. "Be gentle in your critique. I am delicate with regards to my love." I smile, glad that she knows I can handle her toughest critique and always want her input.

"Like a flower, I know, princess. Lay it on me." her words are laced with sarcasm.

I have had a plan for weeks now, but I won't admit that to her. I have just been waiting for the right time.

I put the phone closer to my face in a conspiratorial posture, "So, I was thinking...."

#duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #jake donfort #jake x mc #duskwood mc #mc x jake #duskwood mc x jake #iamjake #duskwood #mc duskwood #jake gvf #duskwood everbyte #jake duskwood #duskwood fandom #duskwood fanfiction

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dragonmuse · 2 years ago

Note

I loved the latest installment of Leda verse!!

If you're still taking prompts, could we see some izzy-centric hurt/comfort? Or something related to ed realising about the skylights?

Also I love Alma and Erika Rover so much aaaah <33

(I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I am still taking prompts though I'm answering fewer of them, which is probably obvious. I do plan on doing a good run of them after Alma's story concludes. I had @queenbookwench listed as having asked about Jonah's funeral, but I can't find the comment now so if I'm wrong I apologize. I don't think I ever wrote it out, though I had a dim memory of answering some ask about Izzy sending a car for candy. So this is all about Jonah's funeral, the aftermath and the way Izzy mourns people with some bonus Lucius).

Izzy stood towards the back of the crowd, out of his parents’ eyeline. Aaron and his new wife were standing right next to the grave, both with solemn looks. Izzy was reasonably sure Fiona had never even met Jonah, but sure, get your fucking pity points in. Delly was standing next to their mother, arms crossed over her chest, face set into neutral disinterest which at least felt more honest.

Candy stood beside him, her tears falling fast and furious, though she made little noise. Her long fingernails had been painted a glossy black that caught the light every time she reached up to dab at her face with a wad of tissue.

“Thank you,” she’d whispered, voice raw from tears just before the preacher started ranting about fire and brimstone.

“You should be here,” was all he’d said in return. It hadn’t been much to send a car for her.

He almost hadn’t done it.

It had been decided in the moment he’d walked into Eddy’s office and said,

“I need a few days.”

“What for?”

She was behind the desk he still sometimes thought of as Hornigold’s. Her hair was hanging in her face, beard was already growing thick. Sometimes he missed being able to read her expression in the quirk of his lips, but it was a small price to pay for the intimidating figure that wowed clients and scared all the right people.

“My brother died.”

Her pen paused, “The one you liked?”

Had he liked Jonah? The man had been volatile and difficult, but he’d also laughed more than the rest of them put together. He’d loved Izzy in his own rough way, and protected him for a while. More than a lot of other people had done.

“Yeah,” he said and the word almost stuck in his throat. He coughed to dislodge it.

“Fine,” their attention dropped back to their notes. “When will you be back?”

“Friday.”

They nodded and he backed out of the room. He put his wallet in his pocket and locked the door to his office. It was bizarre to leave in the middle of the day with no intention of coming back tomorrow. It made him a little queasy.

The last funeral he’d gone to was his father’s mother’s. They’d only met her a few times and Da had insisted on dragging them all across the state for it even though he had, by all reports, loathed her. Izzy had been thirteen and mostly what he remembered was the boredom and then being in his aunt’s stuffy house. Jonah had found a weird room stuffed full of boxes and dragged Izzy in there. He’d taught him how to play poker in the shadow of QVC purchases.

The next time someone close to Izzy died, Jonah hadn’t been home in years. He hadn’t been told about the funeral.

The thought lodged in him like a thorn. He called the car and set it up for Candy, left a stilted message on her voicemail. There was no way Da or Ma would’ve called her and they’d only gotten the body by default.

Izzy stood at the back of the crowd now with his dead brother’s crying girlfriend. What would he have done if he’d been allowed to go to Faith’s funeral anyway? Just stood there like this. Useless and silent.

When the coffin went into the ground, Candy cried harder, but her sobs were drowned out by Ma’s, who had begun to wail. It was a wounded animal sound, inhumane in its sorrow. Delly reached out, touching her elbow, but was roundly shaken off. Da said something sharp to her, but for once Ma didn’t just subside. She cried as if thirty years of tears had been saved for this moment. Everyone shifted away from her, leaving a fall out circle of grief.

People dispersed after that, as Aaron came by he took in Izzy and Candy,

“You and your girlfriend should come by the apartment, show your respect.”

The apartment meant the place they’d grown up. Those sterile walls, repainted an even brighter white now that none of them lived at home to leave behind fingerprints and pain.

Izzy said nothing. Aaron’s lip curled and he marched away.

“You didn’t correct him,” Candy’s voice was broken by tears.

“He doesn’t matter enough,” Izzy shrugged.

“Do you like ham?” She asked, blotting fruitlessly at her running mascara.

“Yeah,” he frowned. “Why?”

Her apartment smelled better than his parents' place at least, some kind of scented candle burning away, and instead of terrible memories, it was just a crowded one bedroom. There was a workman’s jacket tossed over the back of the couch. Like Jonah had just come home and was in the bathroom or something.

They ate the ham that she’d made for some dinner that would never happen. There was steamed vegetables on the side and brown rice. All safe enough, so he ate it, even as she picked through her own plate.

“Do you want anything?” she asked when they’d both done the best they could to pretend to have an appetite.

“Hm?” he finished off the beer she poured for him. He wasn’t really in the mood for a drink, but it had been the last glass bottle in the fridge. A single soldier left on the field.

“Of his. I’m not ready to go through it. I don’t-” she started then stopped. “Will your family want his things?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. They don’t deserve any of it. You keep it.”

“What about you?”

He wanted to say that he didn’t give a shit. Having something of Jonah’s wouldn’t do him any good. But he had a ring pressed to his ribs that said it mattered a little, so he got to his feet and let her show him the clothes, the few photos, the bits and pieces of things left behind. In the end, he took some unopened razors (of course the same brand he used, not like Da had bothered to teach him to shave. It had been Jonah, who barely knew what he was doing himself and Izzy with only three chin hairs to his name), a knit black sweater that reeked of menthols, and the smaller of the two toolboxes shoved under the bed.

“See you around,” Candy said as he went to the door.

“Bye,” he mumbled. He wouldn’t see her around. He’d never see her again and he was fine with that.

The sweater he gave to Ma when he finally arrived at the apartment. She held onto it for hours as people continued to parade through the place to mouth their apologies at them all.

The razors he used without sentiment, scraping away at his cheeks to maintain his goatee’s immaculate edges. Da and Aaron always stayed clean shaven. Jonah had always liked some stubble, grew a beard in during the cold months, scrapped it away in spring.

The tools came in handy more than once. He stored them under his bed too.

“The knob just came off in my hands,” Luicus came out of the bathroom sheepishly one morning, a year and a half into things.

“Which one?” Izzy sighed and pushed himself up and off the couch.

“The towel closet thing. I swear I didn’t rip it off.”

“Like to see you try,” Izzy snorted and held out his hand. Lucius dropped the little knob into it.

“Mean,” Lucius judged, but he was smiling, so not offended.

“The screw gets loose,” Izzy shrugged. “I can fix it. There’s a toolbox under my bed, can you get Phillip's head out of it?”

“Why do you have a head in your toolbox?” Lucius asked with a frown.

“The screwdriver, pup. I know you know this.”

“I absolutely and categorically do not.”

“Guess you get to learn this morning.”

“...yeah fine.”

Izzy pulled out the toolbox and showed Lucius the difference between the screwdrivers. Judging by his expression, it was going to get stored the same place the rules to poker did: firmly in the garbage bin of his mind.

“What’s with this?” Lucius tapped the metal plate mounted on the side of the box. “J.H.? Was this your brother’s?”

“Probably made it in shop class. He was good with that shit. Worked with HVAC systems.”

“You know, the way you talked about him, I assumed he did something like what you did,” Lucius admitted. They were both sitting on the bedroom floor, Sweeney sniffing around them, clearly bemused by this decision.

“He had a legit job,” Izzy held his fingers out for Sweeney to butt his head against. “But he always had a side hustle. Mostly just shaking people down that owed this loan shark he knew. Small time shit.”

“Do you miss him?”

Izzy scratched Sweeney’s cheek. “Yeah. Guess so.”

“Wish I could’ve met him.”

“You would’ve hated him,” Izzy snorted. “He was a fucking asshole.”

“I like you,” Lucius pointed out with a half-smile.

“It was different,” Izzy frowned, but as Sweeney butted him one more time, then flounced off to check his food dish, he let himself actually think about it. What would Jonah have made of Lucius, who had never consensually touched a screwdriver, but treated Izzy like he was precious?

He thought about Candy’s long black nails, the ham she had cooked for a man who was never coming home and fed to his brother.

“Deep thought?” Luicus poked him in the knee.

“If he could get past the whole gay thing....I dunno,” he conceded. “Maybe he would’ve liked you a little. Maybe you wouldn’t have hated him. Might’ve been awkward though.”

“I like Delly,” Lucius reminded him.

“Huh, you know he was more like Delly than anyone else,” Izzy realized. “I wonder how much she remembers about him.”

“Now that you guys are talking, maybe you could add a photo to your display,” Lucius suggested. “There’s got to be one with all of you.”

It wasn’t something Izzy asked for right away, but eventually, he and Delly had mended a bridge enough to pour over the photos that she'd gotten when Ma died. There was a shot of all of them, some holiday long gone. Most of the pictures had all four of them posed uncomfortably, but there was one of just Izzy and Jonah, stiff in their Sunday clothes. Izzy looked about eleven in it, Jonah already significantly taller and broader. They were both looking at the camera with dark glares, no smiles to be found. But Jonah’s arm was around his shoulders, holding him close. Almost hiding him from the camera.

“It’s very you,” Lucius had deemed.

Izzy set it on the shelf next to the drawing of Faith. The shelves were getting full, laden down with memory.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #izzy hands #jonah hands #candy hands

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