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imgeekgirlfan · 6 months

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Renegada♱

Taglist: @707otto @juxt4p0siti0n @arcticversed (If you want to be added in this fic, just tell me in reply )

Pairings: Amado Carrillo Fuentes x f!reader(Latina Reader) x Walt Breslin [From Narcos: Mexico TV Series]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Synopsis : The drug war in Mexico has been deteriorating steadily ever since Amado disappeared without a trace. How will Walt cope when he loses you, and his nightmares that continue to haunt him haven't faded away?

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𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙙𝙖♱ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

➡ Previous : Next

[7]ᅳ 𝐓𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐨𝐬 𝐝𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐨𝐬 ✟

Things in Mexico have been continuously worsening ever since Amado Carrillo Fuentes disappeared without a trace. And some members of the Arellano family were captured, under the collaboration of the DEA and PJF.

The relationship between the Mexican drug cartels and American officials there has always been extremely complex. Undoubtedly, they detest each other deeply, but they can't confront each other directly due to legal constraints and the relationship between the two countries. It's like playing a cat-and-mouse game where neither side ever crosses the line seriously. Until the drug war intensifies, with Walt's actions being part of these outcomes.

The arrest and ill treatment of Ramón Arellano Félix's close friend are no different from a slap in their face. The Arellano family wants revenge on everyone involved and wants their voices loud enough for America to hear. That's why the number of missing and deceased police officers associated with the drug trade has intentionally risen. Each case always sends a direct message to the DEA—just like the recent incident that happened today.

The local roadside restaurant in the early morning seemed busier than ever, surrounded by several police officers, including a group of journalists standing off-camera, cordoned off from the incident area. Walt had to spend a considerable amount of time maneuvering through the crowd and avoiding nosy reporters until he finally reached the scene of the incident. He took a deep breath and removed his sunglasses, displaying his badge to the officers there for verification before being allowed to pass.

As he bent down to pass under the police tape and was about to step inside, there were still voices of disappointed questions from the chasing journalists behind him that never seemed to stop. However, there was one sentence that made the man stop abruptly for a moment.

"Do you think America bears responsibility for the recent deaths and disappearances of Mexican police officers?

Walt couldn't resist turning back, and he encountered a young Mexican woman standing closest to him. She was wearing a wrinkled khaki shirt paired with old jeans. Her messy hair was loosely tied into a ponytail, with acne scattered across her face. Her dark eyes, hidden beneath thick-framed glasses, looked weary and exhausted, as if she had just slept for a few hours before hastily showing up here, holding an old recorder in her hand.

"Who are you?" Walt asked, although he could already tell from the press badge hanging around her neck that clearly stated her status.

"Teresa, from La Gente newspaper," the young woman responded eagerly, catching her breath as she gained attention from this man. "As I asked before, what are your thoughts on this?"

"You seem to know quite a lot, isn't it?" Walt retorted.

She raised her eyebrows, her eyes sparkling challengingly. "Well, I am a journalist. I always find out some information one way or another."

Walt didn't hate journalists as much as most American officials did, but he certainly didn't favor them much either, especially the relentless type like Teresa, who would crash into anything just to get a story. It wasn't hard for the DEA to figure out who she was with just a quick glance, especially when she wasn't the first journalist he'd dealt with before.

"We're doing our best to eradicate the drug trafficking groups, and those responsible are them, not us."

That was the first and only answer he gave to the journalist, just like the answer he constantly told himself every day for every violent event that happened in Mexico and for everything that happened to those close to him.

Walt stepped cautiously through the shattered glass scattered across the floor of the restaurant. A cigarette unlit hung from his lips. His sharp eyes fixed on the body of a police officer sprawled on a table inside the eatery. The traces of dozens of bullets and dried blood were embedded deeply into the fresh yellow paint of the chairs and even onto the cement floor. It was another momentary pause for the DEA agent when he recognized the face of the deceased officer, who had once been suspected of secretly taking money from drug traffickers.

It seemed that all drug lords wouldn't be too pleased with the two-faced cop anymore.

Walt pondered. As he slowly shifted his gaze upwards from the corpse to the wall above, he came across some words written in blood on the wall: 'Pobre México! Tan lejos de Dios y tan cerca de los Estados Unidos[1]'.

"Quite the warm welcome from the Mexicans, isn't it?"

Walt glanced towards Julio, standing beside him. who stood with his arms crossed. His gaze shifted to the lifeless body of the unfortunate officer. before turning to look at Walt with a rather ambiguous smile.

"These damned criminals are getting closer to us every time," a high-ranking officer said, raising his hand and stroking his mustache with a contemplative look. "Sometimes, I can't help but wonder if one day I might end up like this too."

"It's just the corrupt cops that were killed." Walt's tone was flat, as if he didn't feel any sympathy for the dead bodies lying in front of him. "If you're not corrupt, there's nothing to fear."

Julio's smile slightly faded. He looked at the DEA agent with a piercing gaze.

"You overestimate those scum a bit too much. Do you think they really give a shit about cops who take bribes from them? What they care about is who to keep and who to eliminate."

Julio paused for a moment, intentionally letting Walt ponder on his own. And Walt knew which group he belonged to—the ones that needed to be eliminated.

"We all know how this will end, don't we? You have just as much a chance of ending up a corpse as I do."

Julio gently squeezed Walt shoulder before walking away quietly. He left those words buried deep in Walt's thoughts. Walt wasn't sure whether Julio was speaking the truth or warning him.

When the DEA agent's gaze returned to the body of the policeman on the dining table once more, he couldn't help but ponder the possibility that Julio mentioned. There is a possibility that he might end up dead right there instead of being an empty shell of another person. Another casualty in the drug war, of which he was partly the cause.

That night, Walt drifted into a restless sleep, dreaming of what he had witnessed earlier that day. The image of the dead policeman shot in the restaurant was vivid; every detail was clear and unaltered. The lifeless, wide-open-glazed eyes, bullet holes, and blood scattered all over the body. But the one thing that was different was the face of the deceased man, replaced by yours.

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Death shouldn't feel this painful.

The excruciating pain that surged with even the slightest movement made you instantly aware of how lucky you were to still be breathing until now.

Where am I?

You groaned as the pain struck again. Your entire body trembled with alarm and confusion. You wanted to open your eyes, but your eyelids felt too heavy. You have a headache so intense that you can't do anything but lie still on the narrow, musty-smelling bed, feeling like you are sinking into dark, silent water with nothing in sight.

At that moment, someone firmly grasped your arm, whispering gently, "Stay calm." You began to relax a bit, regaining consciousness for a moment before finally managing to open your eyes. The image in front of you was initially blurry, but with each blink, things became clearer.

The first thing you saw was Amado's face. He stood beside the bed, his hand still holding onto your arm as if not wanting you to move more.

"Are you alright? Can you talk?"

You tried to respond to him, but your throat was too dry to make any sound. Amado then handed you a glass of water and helped support your head so you could drink more easily. You drank the water quickly and took deep breaths, trying to comprehend what was happening.

The shock hadn't faded. It intensified as you looked around and realized you were in an unfamiliar place. It wasn't an apartment in Mexico, a small house in Texas, or even a hospital. Instead, it was just a small bedroom in an old wooden house, perched on a mountain overlooking a distant sea from the window. You furrowed your brow slightly before remembering that you were still somewhere on Aruba Island.

The events prior played back scene by scene in your mind. The assassins, the gunfire, the blood, and the sharp pain in your abdomen from being shot—all vividly clear up to this moment. Your heart raced irregularly, still swirling with the last memories before losing consciousness. Memories that bordered on the brink of death

But you're not dead. You're safe and alive.

The fragments of fear you were trying to hide were exposed during your weakest moments. You raised your hand to cover your face, letting tears silently flow without a sound of sobbing. You felt relieved that you were safe but also saddened that you hadn't died.

Your fake name was called out again, accompanied by the man's hand placed on your head—a gentle touch that made you feel slightly better. "We're okay now. Don't be scared," Amado said firmly. Finally, your mind calmed down. You wiped away the warm tears, feeling slightly embarrassed for inadvertently crying in front of him.

"What happened?" you managed to ask, even though it sounded drier than usual. You paused slightly, realizing your question sounded a bit too much like that of a cop. But Amado didn't seem to notice your oddity. He maintained his composure, except that his smile no longer seemed annoying, replaced by exhaustion.

"We've managed to survive, at least for now. But I don't know if there are more of them outside. We need to hide until my people get here," he said directly, his eyes showing a hint of anxiety. "I can't take you to the hospital; it's too dangerous. Luckily, I could provide basic first aid."

"And you weren't injured, right?" It was merely a curiosity tinged with a tiny bit of concern that prompted you to ask that.

His face looked genuinely surprised upon hearing this, but then he broke into a small, amused laugh. "You should worry about yourself, Mija. Do you realize how foolish you are to take that bullet for me?"

You locked eyes with him "Then you're just as foolish for not leaving me behind."

Once again, a CIA agent took a risk with something that seemed impossible.

If you were just an ordinary whore for Amado, you'd likely be lying dead on the streets like anyone else by now. There's no reason someone like him would take a risk to save you unless the misattribution of arousal theory[2] had worked. The serendipity of being together in dangerous situations, coupled with your naive sacrifice, might have endeared you to Amado more than you had anticipated. And his fondness could prove immensely beneficial for you.

Even though your mission may be considered a failure, you're still alive, and as long as you're breathing, there's always a chance. Right now, Amado Carrillo Fuentes is your only chance—a chance to survive this island. But it's also a chance to plunge yourself into more danger, and there's no guarantee you'll be this lucky again.

Both Amado and you know this well.

"Are you not regretting saving me?" Amado asked.

"No," you answered with a voice that tried to be sincere, but deep down, you weren't entirely sure if what you said came from pretense or genuine feelings. "If I could turn back time, I'd probably still do the same thing, though I might choose something smarter."

Amado leaned in closer than before. With one hand, he cupped your pale cheek, tracing his fingers along your jawline slowly. Contemplative, cautious, and concerned—that's what you saw in his eyes. It reminded you of what you once saw in Walt's eyes.

You blinked again. This time, the face of Walt in front of you reverted back to the original Amado. Silence lingered long enough for him to decide to kiss you. It was just a light press of lips against yours, trailing to both cheeks and finally the forehead.

"Don't feel regret later" he says.

It's dangerous. Your conscience repeated the warning as you clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug into the flesh of your palm.

The elusive smile on his face made your heart race. It felt like you were standing on the edge of a high cliff, teetering on whether to plunge into the unknown darkness below.

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[1] "Poor Mexico, So Far From God, So Close to the United States." (Pobre México, Tan lejos de Dios y tan cerca de los Estados Unidos) This sentence, attributed to Porfirio Diaz, the Mexican dictator in the 19th century, illustrates the tumultuous history between the United States and Mexico, which has spanned for centuries.

[2]The Misattribution Of Arousal Theory It is a psychological study by Dr. Donald Dutton and Dr. Arthur Aron that shows how humans can fall in love when placed in stressful situations. This is because when feelings of excitement and fear occur, there is a hormonal response of adrenaline that makes individuals feel love towards someone nearby or someone who extends a helping hand.

#narcos: mexico #amado carrillo fuentes #narcos mexico netflix #narcos x reader #amado carrillo fuentes x reader #amado carrillo fuentes x you #narcos fic #narcos mexico fanfic #narcos mexico fanfiction #narcos: mexico tv series #walt breslin #walt breslin x you #walt breslin x reader #jose maria yazpik #scoot mcnairy #Renegada♱

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lake-archive · 2 months

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Would You Date...?

AO3 Link - Persona 5 Jester's Expansion Masterlist

Fandom: Persona 5

Character (main): Anja / Luka (OC), Goro Akechi

Words: 1,460

Summary: Goro didn't mean to listen in... Yet he does it anyway. Yet he can't exactly say why. And all it results in is this idiot confusing him yet again.

It was rare for Goro to not be surrounded by a crowd of girls but witness it instead. Honestly he welcomed that change, finding it rather taxing to be honest. Always having to keep up that smile and having to decline politely. Even if he wanted to tell them to back away directly he shouldn’t. Most admired him or got flatout jealous yet it wasn’t something to feel jealous about. But some people just didn’t get it, not exactly at least. But it was a price to pay apparently so he had no choice but to play this game.

Regardless, he first wanted to snicker that there was finally someone else who would be suffering the consequences. However, when hearing who it was these girls had been surrounding… He didn’t know how to feel. Or rather the question they were throwing at the person. Though he had no answer for his reaction either. It just came out of literal nowhere after all. The conversation started simple enough however.

“Say say Anja! You’re a lot around Akechi–Kun recently!”

“Oh. Yeah, guess I am.”

“Are you two dating!?”

A pause and Goro expected the worst. This person was known to make his life worse sometimes. Not actually worse just… Things had become a little harder with them around. While as ‘Luka’ it seems more manageable he had to answer quite a few of questions in interviews already about who this ‘girl’ is he spends more time with than he should. It was not unexpected however. This would cause a commotion. His response was a simple one however. “Oh, I assure you that we are nothing more than friends. I have little time for other affairs, if that was what you have been implying.” Truth or not it was a necessary move. Otherwise it would be a nightmare to handle. The rumors ceased, at least on the media’s end. The one known as ‘Anja’ however? ‘She’ may still have it rough yet ‘she’ loved to turn it into a game of sorts. Then again, he had also forgotten how dismissive ‘she’ can sound. And this was one of those cases.

“Why do you always assume if a guy and a girl hang out together they are dating?” Anja sighed, the annoyance audible. Goro didn’t even need to see ‘her’ face right now, he could picture it just fine. And what a fair argument it was.

“Isn’t it? You even grab him and drag him with you sometimes!” One of the girls tried to argue. By then he had decided to secretly take a peek. He wasn’t invested in this conversation or anything like that just… Just… Well, just… Hah no, that wasn’t it. He didn’t get it though. He didn’t know why he had been hiding closer to get a better look. He did, no denying and the scene was just as he imagined.

The young, female presenting brunette standing in front of a crowd of curious girls while sitting at a table out in the open, at a café. A notebook was open in front of ‘her’ and the pencil and eraser were just lying there, completely neglected. ‘Her’ arms were crossed however and ‘her’ face was filled to the brim with annoyance, as if saying “You’re all being annoying. Can’t you see I’m busy?” But of course that was ignored. ‘She’ even rolled her eyes by then. “And?” ‘Her’ mouth let out, scoffing. “Do I have to date the guy now?”

“Haha, as cold as ever…” One of the girls in the crowd commented. “You’re not helping your case y’know. Does Akechi–Kun know of this attitude of yours?”

“Who knows.” ‘She’ sighed. “Listen, the answer is no. So could you ju—”

“Then would you date him!?” Another asked out loud. He didn’t know why but that for some reason had spiked his interest even more, even if he wanted to shake it off. He didn’t know why, this was something confusing to him. Why was he invested in this nonsense? It didn’t further his goals in any way. Why the heck was he even listening to something like this!? It made no sense to him. This was so trivial but her he was, eavesdropping. What was he even hoping for here?

“Would I what now?” Anja asked, sounding a little confused ‘herself’. Yet she suddenly leaned back for a moment, facing the sky, as if… Thinking about it? Wait why was he waiting for an answer!? What was he even doing here!? Why was he the one who—

“You're talking about the Detective Prince, right?” She suddenly asked however, having all of the girls confused. Oh not just they were, Goro himself was confused as well. What… Had ‘she’ not been listening!? No, ‘she’ had. After all, ‘she’ had answered the girls’ questions just now! Why is ‘she’ asking that now? Or was this some other weird joke of some sorts and there will be a punchline shortly after? Of course there would be…

“Erm… Well… Yeah?” One in the crowd answered, the confusion more than audible.

The answer from Anja? It came out pretty quickly. No hesitation, just a straightforward: “No way.”

For some reason hearing that made him freeze up in his hiding spot, his blood going cold. But why? Why was he the one feeling shattered by this revelation? Huh!? Was there something weird in his head he couldn’t understand!? Slow down, slow down! What was wrong with him here!? That’s just some person he knows! Nothing more! But why’s this weighting heavily on him!? He should be relieved instead! That means these stupid rumors can end and he doesn’t have to answer these tiring—

“If you said Akechi–Kun however…” ‘She’ suddenly continued however, facing the crowd of girls again. Even Goro got curious all of a sudden yet he felt uneasy as well… No, not uneasy. Curious? Yeah, curious. Someone tell him why though… This is not how he expected himself to react. And he felt even dumber by the second. Why was he expecting something from this? Why did it feel as if he was going to be hopeful here? This made no sense whatsoever! Why!? No, really!? Why!?

“Wh… What do you mean, Akechi–Kun?” One of the girls asked, a little careful and timid sounding.

“What do I mean, I wonder~” Anja responded with a fake cluelessness. Though it made ‘her’ sound rather playful if anything. And when looking at ‘her’ a smirk just equally as playful graced ‘her’ face. Then again, that smirk may as well be mistaken for a genuine smile. Yeah, an actual smile. But… Was ‘she’ really? Wait why would that even cross his mind!? As if he wanted them to smile like that to begin with!? Why was he—

“Let’s just say… I wouldn’t date the next coming of the Detective Prince. But I wouldn’t say no dating Akechi–Kun~” As if this was the last shot ‘she’ even tilted her head slightly with a smile, making the crowd gasp. And he kind of gasped too though quickly covering his mouth with one of his hands.

“Hah!? What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Go figure it out.” Anja hummed, then grabbed the cup on the table and took a sip out of it.

“Anja!? Don’t be mean! Tell us! Ey, Anja!” But the one in question remained unresponsive to all of that.

By then Goro turned away, noticing a shift in his own reaction. It was as if he felt overwhelmed. One may ask what they meant by that and he was questioning that for a moment as well. What were the implications of a sentence like that? Would they date him or would they not? What could they mean by saying something like that? He was wondering, truly, yet would he even get his answer? No. And he didn’t know why he had even been worrying so much about this. His head repeated it a few times in his head, as if trying to deduct it before realizing how worked up he got over this.

Shortly after he also noticed something with his face, how… Warm it had grown? Yeah, warm. And it was hard to process his thoughts appropriately. It was as if this did a number to him and he really couldn’t tell why. This… This…

Why does he let this idiot even get to him!? Goro shook his head for a moment before turning away, pulling his hand down from his face. “What am I even doing?” He grumbled before leaving just as quickly as he came. However, for the rest of the day his head felt as if had just experienced a system crash. Yet again they confused him without even trying.

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just-a-whumping-birb · 7 months

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First Bitten Masterpost

Turned

Tristan’s life as he knows it is about to change forever. Grayson makes sure he knows it.

TWs: vampire whumper, human whumpee, body control, blood, blood drinking, kidnapping, vampiric transformation

Soft. Warm. Those were the first things Tristan felt upon waking, a groan leaving him as he groggily opened stormy grey eyes. The room was mercifully dark; he could feel the pounding headache of a hangover already starting up. He took stock of his thoughts, trying to piece together the last things he could remember.

He and Oliver had gone out to a party at one of those crowded local bars. Not their usual haunt, but both knew that they needed to socialize more, and what better place to do it than at a crowded, sweaty rave? He had been such an idiot for suggesting it…

Several drinks later, and Tristan had been pulling at Oliver’s sleeve, mumbling about wanting to leave. His good friend, never one to leave Tristan hanging, agreed and the two had begun the trek home. Tristan could remember a brief period of walking, but that’s when it all went black. Had Oliver carried him the rest of the way? No… he wasn’t strong enough for that. Maybe he had called them a cab…

Suddenly, the doorknob to his room turned, revealing a very unfamiliar hallway and an equally unfamiliar silhouette. He… wasn’t at their apartment. So where the hell was he?! Before Tristan could even ask that question, the lights in his room were flicked on, his headache flaring up and eliciting a wince from the young man. Standing across the room was a stranger, one with bleach-white hair, a pair of rounded glasses, and a very cocky smile. Alarm bells rang in Tristan’s head, his eyes darting around to look for any kind of escape. Unfortunately, the newcomer clocked his frantic looks, crossing the room far too quickly for his liking.

“Well, now,” the stranger began, his voice smug, “you’re a jumpy one, aren’t you?”

Tristan bristles.

“Wh-who are you?! And where the hell am I?!”

The other man chuckles, clearly enjoying his panicking.

“You can call me Grayson, at least for now. That will change soon~ As for where you are, this is my home.”

What did he mean by “that will change soon”? Tristan thought. He quickly shook his head, another notion overtaking all others as his eyes went hard and stormy.

“Where’s my friend? What did you do with him?”

Grayson hummed, unbothered.

“Oh, he’s in another of my guest rooms. They’re all quite comfortable~”

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” Tristan muttered under his breath.

The other man raised an eyebrow.

How the hell could he have heard that?!

Grayson positioned himself so he hovered just above Tristan, looking down at him as if he were an insect. His voice had dropped to a low, menacing hiss when he spoke.

“You’d best worry more about yourself, boy. After all, your… living situation is about to change.”

Tristan bristled, trying to lean away… only to realize that he could no longer move. Not even an inch. It was as if invisible bonds were holding him fast, keeping him in place. Another wave of panic washes over him, the young man’s eyes widening in fear.

“I-I can’t move? Why can’t I move?!”

Grayson just chuckles, the fingers on hus right hand- which Tristan now saw sported black, clawed nails- giving a quick snap.

A moment of panic follows an oddly tingly sensation as, against his will, Tristan leans his head to the side, exposing his neck.

“Your body isn’t your own anymore, Tristan. Better get used to it~”

A ten ton weight sank into his stomach at those words.

“What… what are you…?”

Grayson’s mouth broke into a wicked grin, fangs glinting in the light as he did so.

“A being far more powerful than your mortal mind could ever comprehend.”

Before he could make a retort, Grayson lunged for the young man’s neck, fangs sinking in like sharpened knives.

Tristan shrieked, the sound almost catching in his throat as the vampire began to drink. All he could make were pitiful, choked sounds as the monster drained him rapidly of his lifeblood, the flow never seeming to stop.

This is it, Tristan blearily thought as his vision started to darken around the edges, I’m about to be killed by a vampire. My life is over… Oliver’s life, too… I…

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Darkness.

Cold hands pulling away, sticky.

Another hand opening his stiff, dead jaw.

Warmth.

Life.

Life…?

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“Wake up.”

That voice…

“Wake. Up.”

Tristan’s eyes snapped open.

He was still lying in that same bed, though the sheets had obviously been changed. Grayson stood above him, looking up and down his body.

“What are you…?” Tristan croaked, his voice clearly disused. How long had he been unconscious?

“Just making sure you took to things properly. It looks like you have~”

“Took to… what?”

He didn’t like the sound of that. What had Grayson done to him? Why couldn’t he remember…?

Suddenly, there was a flash of fangs in his mind’s eye. Pain. His life ebbing away until there was darkness, all of that before an oddly invasive warmth.

Grayson smiled.

“Welcome home, Tristan~”

Eyes going wide with horror, Tristan attempts to move again, finding that he can. He looks at his hands, finding nails replaced by claws. This alone had him panicking, rushing to stand and find a mirror, something to look at himself with…! Grayson doesn’t stop him as he struggles over to the bathroom on shaking legs, finding… that he had lost his reflection. The mirror shows a disturbingly empty room.

Tristan stumbles back out of the bathroom, not managing to make it to the bed before hitting the floor on his knees, head bowed. It felt as if his body wanted to shut down in panic, but it was unable to. After all, it was no longer alive.

Steps sound across the floor as Grayson makes his way to stand over the newly turned vampire. Tristan couldn’t see it, but his face held a truly terrifying smile.

“You must be hungry,” said the elder vampire, knowing Tristan would probably feel the hunger any moment now.

To his credit, Tristan growled under his breath, not giving Grayson the satisfaction of knowing that the growing pangs had begun. It was instinct, of course; a newly turned vampire was weak and starving from the ordeal of being brought back from death. It took all of his weakening resolve not to lunge at his sire, Tristan’s sharpened nails digging into his palms.

“Oh, my dear little spawn,” Grayson cooed, “your holding back will do you no good; after all, I can always force you to drink.”

Using one of his claws, he cut a line into the inner part of his wrist, fresh blood already weeping from the wound.

The young vampire tsk-ed, knowing he other was right.

“F-fine,” Tristan replied through clenched teeth, fangs already unsheathed. Was that drool he felt welling up in his mouth? He didn’t wait to find out, as the scent of blood hit his newly enhanced senses. It took less than a second for him to leap for his sire, knocking him to the ground, fangs quickly burying themselves in his wrist. Grayson didn’t fight, instead adjusting his body slightly and smiling almost gently as his new spawn fed. And although Tristan couldn’t stop himself from taking long pulls of the now delectable liquid, a part of him felt disgusted at what he had become. Tears began to mingle with blood as he sobbed between gulps, Grayson gently petting his head like a pitiful puppy. It was only a few minutes later that he was forced off, not bothering to fight despite his hunger not being fully satiated.

“Rest,” his sire simply said, “you’ll need it for what comes next~”

Tristan didn’t reply, instead opting to remain where he was on the floor, curling up in fetal position. Apparently satisfied, Grayson left the room, closing the door and leaving the fledgling vampire to his tortured thoughts.

#first bitten #oc: grayson #oc: tristan #birb’s ocs #human whumpee #vampire whumper #vampire #tw kidnapping #tw body control #tw blood #tw blood drinking #tw vampiric transformation

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chronically-undertronic · 4 months

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alright boomff (best oomf forever) convinced me to be insane on main so here i am

Crystalline

tags: Canon x Self Insert, Violence, Gay

It honestly didn't cross Zephyr's mind to ask what exactly they were doing, until he realized where they were. He just thought it was nice to go for a ride after they'd all been cooped up inside for so long, and suddenly they were trudging through sand that felt like it was burning holes in his shoes.

"What are we doing back in Aksemhat?" He questioned, and Cider shrugged, not even turning to look at him. Figures, he was just as clueless.

"I dunno, ask Chronos. I just tagged along because I'm gonna do some shopppiinngg~" He sang, which put Zephyr a little at ease. If they were doing anything too serious, Chronos probably would have shut that idea down immediately. Even still, he felt the need to ask, so he walked up ahead a bit to be at Chronos' side.

"Chronos," He began, and repeated his question, "What are we doing back in Aksemhat?"

"I actually... Am not sure." Seriously? "Hex called us, well, he called me to meet him here. But I wasn't not going to have you two tag along. It's better if I don't do these things alone," he explained. It made sense. Even though you could probably consider Hex and Chronos close, Chronos still didn't have the best people skills, and he knew this. When he didn't know what was going on, it was always best for him to have more opinions than just his own.

"Well, Cider's going shopping. You don't mind if I hang out with him after you figure out what we're doing here, do you?" Zephyr continued and shielded his eyes from the sun to peer off into the distance. It looked like they were almost approaching some buildings unless it was a mirage, but typically those didn't settle in until you started going insane from heat. At least that's what he'd heard, but he never though to fact-check that.

"We'll see. I might need you both."

And he was half right. After they arrived, Zephyr found himself falling asleep while he waited for Chronos to get off the phone so he could go find Cider.

"What do you mean you didn't? You asked if I could meet you h-- This morning? I thought you meant-- Hex, I'm already here. What am I supposed to do now? Gods, why didn't you call me? ... When have I ever stood you up? ... That was one t-- two-- You know what, forget it. I'm sorry. We can try it again tomorrow. Whatever 'it' is. You were going to explain once I got here. I'm here. Can't you tell me what you wanted? ... Oh, of course. Well, he is still here. I could pick them up for you. ... Seris? God no. You can't send him alone to a place like this-"

Okay, Zephyr had heard enough. He was curious about the context, but while they were here, he wanted to explore on his own for a little bit. Maybe he could sneak off. Or, at the very least, find Cider and ride his tail for the remainder of the trip. He continued on ahead through the city streets and found himself wandering through what seemed to be an outdoor market. People had stalls set up with colorful trinkets, fruit, and other goods to be consumed. It was busy, and Zephyr was quite mesmerized by the colorful tapestries, but his moment of wonder was interrupted by a cynical inner voice.

Don't run into anyone, you're wandering around like an idiot and not watching where you're going.

He was right, but Zephyr still cursed the fact that his moment of silence was interrupted.

"I'm being careful," he assured as he removed himself from the crowd to stop by a vendor selling some sort of spices or powder. Though he was clearly just observing, the seller immediately began on the small talk, which Zephyr happily indulged in. However, he soon began to feel overwhelmed with the bustle of the crowd, and excused himself as he felt the corners of his vision begin to blur. He needed to find somewhere quiet to hang out for a while.

It's too loud.

"I know it is, thank you." The constant nagging was not helping, and Zephyr wandered farther than he was sure he was supposed to. It wasn't his fault, his only mission right now was just to cool off. Chronos would just have to give him a hearty scolding later. The clearing ahead was just a dusty and sandy dead end with sandstone bricks lining it in a circle. He thought here would be a good spot to rest, but it seemed he'd wandered onto territory that was equally as money-hungry as the place he'd just come from. Well, as of now, he thought that was true anyway. A cough caught his attention, and he turned his attention to a cart that, unlike the stands, seemed to be made for easy transportation. Stood next to it was a man who wore something that gave no indication he was from Aksemhat at all. His clothes were all black, and nearly covered him completely, which meant he'd surely overheat from the sun if he planned on staying for long.

"Hey yyouu, you look like you're looking for something." His voice was almost enough to put Zephyr at ease. It reminded him of Cider's, but given his background, maybe that wasn't a good sign.

Now you've done it.

"Shutup!" Zephyr harshly whispered to no one and covered it up with a cough. "I am, I'm just looking, thanks."

"Juust looking? I promise, I can give you something that'll fill the hole your money leaves after it's given to me. Come, come, take a look." Before Zephyr could make any protests, the man had his long claws around his arm and pulled him toward his wares. Which were, to be quite frank, junk. It was all a bunch of garbage, though labeled with prices and titles meant to hype them up. Like the horribly drab carpet he was selling that was labeled with a sign that said "Traveling Carpet - 500" Zephyr wasn't buying any of this stuff, not a chance.

What is this? A shadow crossed the corner of his vision. Seth stood right in front of the cart and was transfixed by something. He extended his hand to touch the object, but pulled away once he remembered he couldn't pick things up. Ask him what this is.

"What, uh..." Zephyr peered around to see a spiky white crystal. It was one of the cheaper things he sold, and it was labeled ''Pure Astral Separation - 200' "...What's this?"

"Ooh! You're just like me, are you? You know, this item is actually very valuable. I'm only selling it because I used it, and it worked for me in just under six months. If you're tired of the looming threat of losing yourself to power, this crystal can manifest complete separation from your astral soul," the man rambled. It seemed... Impossible. Not that it was impossible to separate your personal soul from your god soul. Just that, there was typically a very special way that had to be done, and Zephyr was sure that it didn't involve a crystal. Not that he was an expert, of course. While he wasn't convinced in the slightest, Seth seemed oddly eager, which scared him a bit. Seth didn't typically express anything except for resentment, and now it was as if he'd been presented a wrapped gift. But, 200 was just...

"Does it work?" The words weren't Zephyr's own.

"I just said it does. Look at me, I'm all personality. No more losing myself to nonconsensual fits of rage." He smirked, tired eyes glancing over the top of his shades. Everything about this mysterious man made it obvious he wasn't to be trusted, and Seth was always getting after Zephyr for being a gullible idiot. Even still, Seth started to reach for the pocket that was Zephyr's just a few minutes ago.

What are you doing?

"Is 200 the final price? Or can we negotiate?" Seth asked as he counted the money in his hand.

"Hm... Well, you are a new customer, and I always welcome frequent buyers. I could give you a newcomers discount. 150." The offer hung over Seth's head, and he paced in place for a moment.

"Tell me how it works."

"You charge it outside under a bewitching moon. A bewitching moon is the moon that occurs on the night of the 30th of every month," the man explained.

"Not every month has a 30th."

"You can't charge it during the month where there's no 30th, duh. You need to set it outside once the sun finishes setting and take it back inside before the sun rises. Eventually, the crystal will draw out your god soul and personal soul, creating two separate entities."

"And this... Worked for you?" Seth questioned skeptically.

"What do you want me to do, prove it?" The man laughed, and suddenly Seth's eyes were swirling with something all too familiar.

Don't do this. Please don't do this, it's not real. We're not buying it.

Seth outstretched his claws and bore his teeth as he stepped closer.

"Yeah. Prove it. Keep your cool."

"What are you...?" The man started to back away, but Seth grabbed him and threw him over the wheels of his cart, and towered over him as he clawed the sand, trying desperately to get away.

Stop, stop, stop!

The room was dark, only illuminated by the candle Zephyr routinely lit before laying down for bed. The only thing is, he didn't remember how he got here in the first place, or if he was even the one who lit the candle. Slowly and cautiously, Zephyr set aside Seth's wolf plush he had cradled in his arms. The first thing he noticed was that the crystal from earlier was sitting on his bedside table. A gasp escaped Zephyr's lips, which was apparently enough to prompt a sleep-deprived annoyance.

Go back to sleep.

"You didn't."

You're right, I didn't. I mauled him within an inch of his life, but he wasn't lying. He didn't rage. He was hardly even able to fight back. But by the time I got him in the state he was in, I realized I could just take the crystal. So promise me you'll keep up with charging it.

"It's the fifteenth."

This will help you too.

Zephyr supposed that was true. Deciding not to argue any further, he did what was suggested to him and just decided to lie down. He was sure he'd get the missing details from Chronos and Cider in the morning.

Patience was a virtue, or so he'd been told. So for nine long, painful months, Seth waited for something to happen. A sign, a tingle, anything that indicated that he'd wake up one day in his own body, separate from Zephyr, separate from all of this. But the time never came. Under six months his ass. He couldn't believe he fell for something like this. He didn't even pay for anything, so it wasn't a refund Seth was after. He wanted revenge. You don't string someone along for so long. This was war, and one Seth was going to win, at that. Blood was the strongest scent one could track, and Seth never forgot the smell of blood he'd shed. Finding this guy was going to be a walk in the park, especially considering he knew what kind of business he was in.

As it turns out, it's not a smart idea to stay in the same place you've scammed someone before. Zephyr was a bit skeptical that Seth knew what he was doing when they landed back in Aksemhat. It'd been almost a year, why would he still be here? But, sure enough, Seth found his way to a small building nestled between shops. There was only one light on inside, which was mistake number two. Never indicate that you're home alone, especially when you're being hunted. Not that he was aware Seth was after him, anyway. This is a stupid idea. Get us out of here. "I know what I'm doing," Seth scowled. At first, he tried the door. There wasn't any reason to make a scene, after all. But when all he achieved was rattling it back and forth, it was time to try the window he saw the light from. He didn't hesitate. Seth slammed his whole body through the glass, ignoring any injuries he might have sustained. A loud scream rang out, and Seth looked up to be face-to-face with the same man who'd scammed him. "What the- What- It's you... What are you doing here?" He gasped, scooting off his bed and scampering toward the door, but Seth was much quicker than him and the room was far too small for him to be subtle. Seth grabbed his tail and held him in place. "You lied to me, the crystal didn't work," Seth hissed. "So?? It's not like you paid for it! What does it matter, anyway? You got scammed, it happens, tough break. That's on you." "So you admit it? You scammed me, you know you scammed me." Seth's grip tightened on his tail, and he let out a pained whimper. "Well, I'm not in a position to lie to you, am I? You're going to kill me, I'm not stupid. I mean, look at the damage you did." He was right, it appeared. All over his body were still scars from Seth mauling him. In a way, Seth was proud. He made this con artist suffer, and now he was going to do it again, and again, and again. "I guess I had a good run. Go on, do your thing." The calm tone to his voice pissed Seth off even more. "You're not scared?" "I've been waiting for my demise for a long time. Why would I stop you?" He shrugged, suddenly nonchalant like he wasn't just panicking over an intruder in his home. Honestly, Seth was caught off guard, and even though his eyes narrowed, his grip loosened. "You're lying." "Am I? Look... You. I'm sorry, I have no idea what your name is." "... I don't know yours either." "Well, mine's Aaron. I guess it's important to know what your food's called before you try it. In any case, my life's gone to shit lately. Business has been the opposite of booming, and I've been struggling to make ends meet. So, you'd be doing a service to me by ending my life." The way Aaron's body completely untensed told Seth that maybe he was being truthful for once. But now what was he to do? It wouldn't feel right to just kill him, he was practically begging for it after all. After some careful consideration, Seth stood up, and so did Aaron after he glanced around like someone else was gonna jump out of the shadows. "I'm not going to kill you." "Figures," Aaron scoffed. Then, in another swift, violent motion, Seth pinned him against the wall, clawing a big mark on his chest in the process. "But whenever I feel like it, I'm going to beat the shit out of you. Whenever I need to blow off steam, I'm going to find you, and I'm going to make you regret ever leaving your house." "Good luck with that. I travel a lot, you know. You just happened to catch me at home. You're not special." In Aaron's eyes was a air of taunting, beckoning. He wanted Seth to take another shot at him. He wanted Seth to kill him. But he wasn't going to give in. Just killing him wouldn't be satisfying, he was going to torture him. "This dump? This isn't a home. Where do you even stay when you travel?"

"What do you care?" After he asked, Seth contemplated whether or not he was serious about what he was going to offer. But he had the perfect opportunity to corner Aaron, and he was gonna take it. "You could stay..." I'm going to stop you right there. Zephyr scolded, and Seth paused to growl in response. "You could stay with me. And... Two other guys. If you're looking for a roommate situation." "Oh, sure, let me stay with the guy who offered to kill me like five seconds ago." "I said I'm not going to kill you." "And that you're going to beat me up. Which sounds delightful, but I'll pass." With that, Aaron seemed to think he could decide the conversation was over, and walked to the door. But as soon as his hand was on the doorknob, Seth's hand was on his, and his body was pressed into the door. "I wasn't giving you an option."

#im not putting this in the main tags #what do i tag this then #thats between me and the deep dark depths of my mind #the original context for this is that I simped over seth and thought man #i wanna write a cringy self indulgent out of character fanfic #and i did #yippee

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pheoblitz · 1 year

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Practice 1: Getting to Pizza

The noon sun had recently passed and slunk its way lazily into the afternoon light. Students flocked to the old metal doors of their school as the lunch bell rang. Many of them were fatigued, frustrated, starving, and gleefully ignorant or uncaring to each other. Several of them willfully crossed each other's paths, causing whirlpools of malice in their flow down the halls.

The bell near the east entrance of the aging school was old and rusted itself. Having been left to rust in the rain for years, it cried out its mournful and broken tune. A 'delight' to the ears of those who heard it. A boy who usually went by Tailor covered his ears as his face recoiled at the sound. His spare had been right before lunch and unfortunately, he made the mistake of sitting under the awful bell.

Tailor had already ate his lunch for the day. So he mostly just sat in waiting for the inevitable to happen. The flood of students came bursting through the door like a broken dam finally giving in to the force of the raging river it once held back. He hated the noise, but left his ears victim to the roaring as he waited for a familiar cry. It was faint, but definitely there. Now, he could only hope she could make her way across the rappids.

Paddling her way out of the crowd, a girl adorn in a pink dress, made her way to the boy who was clinging onto the wall. In her eyes, for dear life. She reached out for his hand, feeling like a mermaid grabbing onto a sailor to bring him to safer shores. When in reality, Tailor just blinked at her as he stood up and picked up his bag ready to walk to the store.

"Hey Penny," Tailor said as Penny was overdramatically posing like she was the focus of a renaissance painting.

She whisked her long almost curly brown hair back and pulled back her outstretched hand to her chest. Grabbing onto her golden necklace and tilting her pale rosy face up slightly to the sky.

"How dare you leave me hanging!" she whined jokingly in a clearly faked accent. She was trying to sound posh and rich, to Tailor's lack of amusement.

He rolled his soft and dull sky blue eyes. "You are scaring even the seagulls away from the ocean of food holding students girl," he replied flatly. She simply scoffed in response. Though her expression showed she found the teasing humorous.

Tailor lightly chuckled at her scoff before the two began to walk off away from the school and across the street. There was a nice pizza place just a crosswalk away, peacefully nestled next to a day care and a crusty but well priced convenience store. Penny had chirped the whole way there about how weird the girls in her class were today. Tailor was listening for the most part, though he didn't quite catch why they had been apparently been talking about taxidermy. He had gotten distracted by two black crows. He smiled, pleased by their appearance. He waved to them before the two flew away into the open sky and Penny yanked his hand, dragging him into the pizza shop.

[Practice 1: Getting to pizza, Completed]

Note: This one will be shorter then what I plan to try to do for the rest. Mostly cause I have to go to work now and don't have more time to keep on trying to write. Hope I did ok. It's not the most interesting start yet- but I wasn't sure something dramatic would work to start this story off. I really just want to set up and practice writing the setting's normal. Oh also, I am not gonna try getting this out anywhere yet. Especially since I don't know how to Tumblr. This stone is a bit rough, but hopefully after while of being here, it'll be a well tumbled one. Maybe even polished.

#writing #practice

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homophyte · 1 year

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well i took a crack at repotting the lettuce herself. id say it went pretty well! look at the big healthy roots (you can even see where they were just about to start growing out of the holes in the pot), and its already spreading out in the pot. god i havent posted pictures of it in a while but it got Really big.

the OTHER thing that happened today is. well you see what had happened was after i repotted it my mom thought we needed to do something relaxing and fun right. so we went to a plant store. and uhmmm.

okay so this is an N. ampullaria . im going to be so real we were about to leave and as i turned around to go i saw it under a shelf and the GASP i let out! its in not great shape, had some dead leaves and the pitchers are pretty clearly on their way out though not dead already, its quite floppy and clearly needs water. was ALSO in just regular goddamn soil, like the last one i got from that nursery (moe! in april! can you believe?)

but i depotted and it had these beautiful healthy roots you can see--all of that black mass is just roots, theres no soil left and just a little moss around the root ball. i cleaned it up, cutting off everything dead, and put it in nice sphagnum/perlite. heres the final product:

and a pitcher glamor shot (though theyre not very glamorous atm):

i had to put the hanging wires on the new pot because its a little top heavy, so theyre just temporarily holding it upright until i can make a moss pole (which i already needed to do to move moe out of the hanging basket for the same reason). this is really temporary--even for the babies, since theyre kinda crowded and will need to be spaced out some--because i need to find a different tray i can put it in too, but for now its a good setup. its sitting on a nice little stand i have where it should be getting enough humidity, plenty of sun during the day, and i gave it the water it desperately needed too.

fingers crossed it doenst go into shock too badly! this is far and away the worst condition a plants been when i took it home but i am confident this is fixable, especially with how good it looks now--it was at most a little beat up and thirsty, which i SHOULD have fixed. i hope. well see.

#plants tag #myposts #s purpurea venosa #sarracenia purpurea #sarracenia purpurea venosa #n ampullaria #nepenthes ampullaria #actually i should mention that while i doubt it it IS possible this is a hybrid though it really just looks like a pure species

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pacifymebby · 1 year

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if you’re feeling sinister / chapter two

We lingered on the edge of the football field until well after 6th period had finished and there was no need to hide out behind the goal posts to smoke our weed because everyone else had already left and gone home for the evening.

"Come on its gettin cold... whos comin round mine? Got the new resident evil... It'll be a scream," grinned Van pulling a face, ever the clown as he tried to chastise Mia into joining us for once.

"Give over you know I hate those games," she said with a small smile, shying away from Van and Larry as they crowded her, one on either side, jostling her with their elbows like they were playing piggy in the middle and she was the ball.

"Leave her alone dickheads," giggled Suki tripping Larry up so that he went tripping and stumbling into a bin.

There was a chorus of cheers from the others then, even Bob who had been quiet all afternoon was laughing and grinning along.

"I don't wanna watch yous playing your shitty video games and screamin like little babies and thats final..." Mia crossed her arms over her chest, stopping at the foot of her driveway. Her and her older brother Benji lived closest to the school in one of the semi's on the main road. It was one of the nicer houses in our shitty coastal town and though we never usually stopped over anywhere other than Van's, what I'd seen of Benji and Mias place was lovely, homely in a way I'd only known for a slither of time whilst I was living with my gran.

"Fine fine, be a loser..." sneered Larry, "chicken shit..."

"Wanker," grinned Mia her smile popping as she made a leud hand gesture at him before sticking him the finger.

"Oi Mia, tell your brother he'd better have shifted that cold by the weekend we've got a gig to prepare for!"

"Whatever Van!" she shouted back not bothering to turn over her shoulder to look at us as she unlocked the front door and disappeared inside.

"Calm down lid you know he's not even sick he's just skyving.." smirked Bob.

"Aye he's sick alright," sniggered Larry, "love sick.." he giggled, Van chorusing him as they started sniggering together, only quieting down when Suki shoved them both from behind.

"Your best pals had his heart broke an you're takin the piss... Pair of tossers," she scowled, "not surprised he's ditchin your stupid practices like..."

"Ooo touched a nerve?" giggled Van, never knowing when to quit. They were both a pair together him and Larry, when it came to taking things too far.

"Shut up," she sneered back snatching at Bondys sleeve to pull him back into step with her so that she'd have at least one of the lads onside.

"Ignore em love, if they wanna behave like children just you let em carry on..." he yawned vaguely shooing them away as he draped his arm around Sukis shoulders and I felt myself shiver feeling suddenly colder.

"I'll come watch you play your shitty video games Van," I sighed knocking into him, hoping he would do as Bondy had done to Suki, but he didn't.

"You live with me lass, you don't have a choice..."

"I do too!" I cried getting idignant when he contradicted me and asked where I was going to go if I didnt end up back at his. "I could go to Suki's for one, or Larry's or Mia's or Bobs or Johnnys!"

"Ah well Titch you see thats the problem see cause I for one am desperately excited to watch Van get himself ripped to pieces by zombies y'see..." cut in Johnny with a lazy smile.

"Yeah," hummed Suki, "me too..." she turned over her shoulder to smile at me as her fingers danced over the crusifix she wore around her neck.

Instinctively I did the same, my fingers counting the beads on my rosary, the cross hanging weighted somewhere beneath my school shirt out of sight.

I wondered what my new therapist would have thought of that. The hippies daughter turned devotee of christ. I wondered what conclusions she would have drawn from that. She'd have had a field day if she'd had me and Suki in the room together... That was how we'd met. Why she'd ended up straying from her grandparents country house into the throngs of our misfit group of friends.

"Me three," added Larry so that Bob was my only remaining option, and the poor lad could only shrug and apologise and tell us he had to duck out too because he had a drum lesson and several exams coming up soon.

So I was forced to relent, let out a dramatic sigh and fall back into step beside my best friend. Van knocked my elbow with his as we walked in time, his cheeky grin relentless.

"Don't lie theres no way you'd rather spend your night with anyone else," he said scowling when I shrugged him off.

"Sure."

But it was true, really, and we both knew that.

I'd known Van since I was a youngen, our parents had been friends because his parents had been pretty bohemian back in their prime too. The only difference was, where my mother had joined a convent in the valley woodlands a couple miles from town, Van's parents had brought a camper and explored Australia and Europe.

When my parents had died his mam had offered to take me in but my gran had been there, maternal and possesive and so I hadn't fallen into Mary's care until last year. When my gran had died there'd been no other option, Van's family already felt like my family. Their b&b was the only place I wanted to go.

The rest of our group had formed around Van and the band. Benji, Bob, Larry and Johnny had been playing shitty indie rock in Benjis garage since they were 12 years old. Johnny being older had been a useful friend to make because he was the first to get a fake ID, the only reliable source of cigs and drinks, and also the only way Van managed to convince the music department at school to trust him in their cramped little recording studio. Larry and Van had known eachother since they were toddlers. Benji and Bob had grown up one street away from eachother. Benji, Van and Bondy had all played on the same footie team.

Their lives had always been overlapping, they'd always been friends.

Mia was Benjis little sister and, having been forced to babysit her one too many Thursday evenings when he was supposed to be rehearsing with the lads, had started dragging her with him. A happy accidental friendship forming between us, a solidarity because we both knew what it was like to have to put up with the older lads teasing and taking the piss out of us.

And then Suki. Suki had been born on the convent too but after a few years her mum had decided that the bohemian lifestyle wasn't for her and had retreated, baby Suki in tow, to her parents big house on the hill. A sprawling country estate tucked away on the edge of the forest. It was gorgeous but we were never invited for tea. In fact Suki liked to keep herself as far away from that house as she could most of the time. She never really detailed her reasons, but we never really asked.

Suki was friends with us because she was friends with me, and we were friends because we both went to confession every Wednesday after mass.

"Am callin first dibs!" shouted Larry running up the drive to Vans house and opening the unlocked door before anyone could stop him or protest. Of course that didn't stop Van from legging it after him.

I just watched with a smirk, turned to Bondy and Suki and felt that cold shiver again when I saw that she remained tucked under his arm as if she was always supposed to belong there.

"Children," tutted Johnny as he kicked his shoes off in the hall wandering into the kitchen to say hello to Vans mum and get a brew on.

I kicked my converse off by the door and hovered for a second at the foot of the stairs waiting to see where Suki would go. Whether she'd follow Johnny or turn to me.

She brushed her long brown hair from her face and adjusted her alice band, her thick brows furrowed like she was thinking.

"You don't really wanna watch them play shit video games all night do you titch?" she asked chewing her cheek, her brown eyes soft with concern though I wasn't quite sure who for.

"Not really," I admitted knowing there was no way she wanted to sit around watching Van and Larry squabble over the controller for an hour either, "not if they're gonna hog it anyway..." I said with a cheeky smile, calling out a little louder so that Van would hear us.

"You two are so ungrateful! You've got the opportunity to watch the master at work here!" he shouted back from the living room where I could hear the playstation coming to life.

I sighed.

"Zombies still a no go?" I asked knowing she would nod and wince and then laugh at herself for being so childish. It was funny that out of all of us she was the one who was "easily scared" given Johnny and I's track record on horror.

But I'd been desensitised over the years and I found a little humour and comfort in a dodgy slasher film or a video game full of daft jump scares. And if anyone ever asked Johnny why he liked horror movies he just shrugged his shoulders, made some throwaway joke about studying up.

Once he'd informed someone that having a murdered mum ment the odds were stacked in his favour, can't get yourself butchered if the stats say you're more likely to be the one doing the butchering.

The kid in question had been speechless but Johnny had just smirked, played it off cool as you like. That was like his hidden talent, this ability only he seemed to have mastered. Nothing ever seemed to stick with him, nothing ever seemed to shake him, he was always so cool and collected, still water you couldn't ripple.

"Wanna bully them into watching the exorcist or somet instead?" I asked Suki, wandering into the kitchen to grab a diet coke from the fridge.

At that she grinned, her nod enthusiastic. A girl of few words but pleased nonetheless.

"You never get bored of that one?" asked Johnny as he stirred sugars into tea.

"Nope," Suki popped the p, her eyes glistening, "I'll never get sick of Jason Miller," she sighed dramatically, completely oblivious to the sudden sulk which lingered on Johnnys lips when he rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair.

"Bit old for you ain't he lass," he said before calling out to the lads that their teas were ready, winking at us when Larry and Van came running in, giving us the opportunity to sneak in and switch over to our film before they could protest.

And thats how we spent our night, the five of us squished together on the sofa, watching a film we'd all seen too many times before. Larry then Van with my in his lap, my legs overlapping Suki's where she sat in Johnnys lap, her head resting against his chest where I wished my head could be instead.

That was how we spent most evenings after school when we weren't all gathered in Benji's garage instead. Watching shit horror movies or playing whichever video game we'd collectively chosen to obsess over that week. Sometimes me and Suki would ditch in favour of finishing our school work, more often than not Mia was only ever half present, her nose in a book.

When the weather was good we'd hang around the football pitch or down by the beach, setting fires pissing around with matches under the pier, or making goal posts with jumpers and playing football, or something which loosely resembled football until the sun had set too far for us to see the ball.

"Reet," yawned Johnny as the clock hit half nine and the credits of Psycho started to roll, "am aff," he said in a terrible scottish accent.

"Walk me back?" asked Suki rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she slipped down from the back of the sofa where she'd been lying with her head next to Johnnys.

They'd been mumbling and joking quietly with one another all night and when she'd positioned herself like that I'd known it was only to get closer to him, to be able to talk softly in his ear and let her hand play with his hair subtly. Not subtle enough.

"Aye lass course," he said their eyes locking for a moment, my chest aching because I knew the conversation they were having silently and so did everyone else.

And the moment he'd closed the door on them Larry voiced the thing we were all thinking.

"She's staying at his ain't she..."

"Fuckin probably aye mate..." grinned Van laughing for a moment until he recognised the turmoil in my eyes, noticed I wasn't laughing like they were. Then he turned to Larry with a frown, lowered his voice, "have a bit of tact though eh mate?"

I smirked sadly shaking my head at him.

"Give over Van its not like that..." I said defending myself weakly. Still, it was true, I was telling them the truth. I wasn't jealous. I didn't want to be Suki. I just didn't want to lose Johnny. I didn't want anything to change between us because it had always been me and him who knew eachother in a way no one else could ever know us. And if him and Suki got any closer than they already were then I would lose him, and we'd never stay up late talking and not talking about the things no one else could understand, ever again.

"Yeah really? What is it like then Titch cause you've look rate mardy all night an we were watchin your favourite film!"

"Its nowt Van drop it already..." I said, my fingers rubbing over the beads of my rosary reminding me not to lie to my best friend.

"You're lying am not daft titch..."

"Am not!"

"Reet well I was gonna crash here like but am not listenin to yous bickerin like grandmas all night so am afffff..." said Larry with a grin immitating Johnny's earlier attempt.

"Ah Larry man nah you can't go yet we were gonna play Resident Evil!"

"I'll be round tomorra, if am not back by ten me mam will go spare," he said holding his hand up to wave, leaving the house in a stoned and sleep deprived haze. Similar to the one Vam turned to me in as the front door closed again, his dopey smile endearing as he came a little closer.

"Y'know you're prettier than..."

"Van!" I hissed cutting him off before he could say something offensive and completely uncalled for, "shut it would ye I already said it ain't that!"

"Am jus sayin lass, if the lad can't see that he's..."

"Van!" I snapped hitting him with the oversized sleeve of my sweater chasing him back into the living room where I shoved him over onto the sofa victorious.

"Alright alright I was just tryna be nice lass no need to go all skitz on me!" he grinned sniggering quietly, the two of us suddenly concious of the time and not wanting to wake his mam and dad.

I sighed flopping down on the sofa beside him, my eyes glancing to the clock. It was just past ten and the night was still young for a girl who didn't do much sleeping.

Luckily for me Van had always been a bit of an insomniac too and so when I turned to him and nodded to the tv he knew exactly what I wanted to do.

"Go get a brew on, reckon we can complete it by mornin like, Larry'll be pissed he went home.." he flashed me a smile switching the channel on the telly so that the playstation started up and his new game started to load.

And I was more than happy to spend the night fighting zombies with Van instead of suffering an attempt at sleep. Because when I was left alone with myself my thoughts had a tendency to drift towards the macabre and spiral and tonight I knew they'd spiral because since I'd left my therapists office earlier that afternoon I'd only been able to focus on one thing.

🍎🔪

"I believe you..." she said again when I scrunched my face into a frown and eyed her suspiciously.

"Right okay... Sure you do..." I said, "if this is a new way of trying to gain my trust it's pretty messed up Elena..." I said eying her name tag feeling a twist of bitterness in my stomach. It was the defense mechanism which flexed every time someone dangled hope in front of me.

"I'm not messing with you or lying to you to gain your trust Pepper, I do believe you and I'll tell you exactly why... If you want to hear me out that is... You don't have to hear me out..."

"No go on, what else will we talk about for the next 40 minutes..."

"Alright well, in your folder your medical history states that you have a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder along with Dissociative Personality Disorder. Your doctors, and the police, believe that as a young girl you were so overwhelmed by the events of your mothers death that rather than accept reality you fabricated a new one in which your father acted to save your life, not to end your mothers..." she paused for a moment and I leant back in my seat studying her carefully. I wasn't sure how I felt about her now, how i felt about the way she was talking about the events as something seperate not only from her but from me.

"Now dissociative disorders are not uncommon after a serious traumatic event and they are often linked to PTSD however," she carried on and now her pencil tip found her lips and for a moment she sucked on it like an addict trying to quit smoking, "however in these cases dissociation tends to recur throughout a suffers life, they tend to, well for want of better phrasing, lose themselves to their false reality choosing to live in it permanently... From what I can tell of you however youve never talked of any similar experiences... Your story has always remained the same and well, all the nightmares, all your flashbacks, as you have described them to previous therapists at least, relate that same story... It never changes and..."

"Generally when a persons story never changes its true..." I said finishing for her, my smirk short and quick as I eyed her with dead eyes, trying my best to hide my confusion. Trying not to show her how badly I wanted to believe in her. How badly I wanted to believe that for once someone believed me.

"It does."

#Iyfs #Catb imagine #Sam fender imagine #Catfish and the bittlemen fanfiction #Sam fender fanfiction

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gilthairpins · 2 years

Text

Bu Bu Jing Xin

Startling by Each Step

By Tong Hua

Using Google Translator as I am impatient. I have a copy of the Chinese edition

Book 1 Chapter One: The Place Where You Wake Up Is a Hundred Years Old.

It’s midsummer season, no better than the new green in early spring, knowing that the good days will begin, so it is bright and happy, and the green in front of you is heavy, perhaps because you know that the splendor has reached its peak, and the days that come will only get worse.

Just like my mood at this time. It’s already the tenth day in ancient times, but I still feel that this is a dream. I will be in modern society when I wake up, not in the 43rd year of Kangxi[‘s reign]; I am still a single white-collar worker of 25 years old- Zhang Xiao! Not this 13 year old Manchu girl Martai Ruoxi. Ten days ago, after I had gotten off work, I didn’t pay attention to the traffic when I crossed the road. When I heard the screams of the crowd, it was already too late. I felt like I was flying into the sky, but I saw the other half of my body hanging on the truck. I was in fear and pain. I lost consciousness at some point and when I woke, I was in the bed of the former body’s owner.

According to the maid, I fell down the stairs in the pavilion and was in a coma for a day and a night. As for the “illness” that I forgot everything after I woke up, the doctor said I was overly frightened and would recover.

Not long after I left, there was sweat on my forehead. The elder sister’s dowry maid, Qiaohui persuaded, “Second miss, let’s go back. Although it is past noon, the heat is most poisonous at this time, and your health hasn’t completely recovered.”

I replied meekly, “Okay! I should finish reading my sister’s scriptures.”

My current name is Martai Ruoxi, and this body’s sister is Martai Ruolan, who is quite famous in the Qing Dynasty. The side Fujin [2nd wife] of Prince Lian’s eighth brother Yun. However, now eighth brother, he hasn’t been crowned king, but he is just a Bei’le, and he has no need to avoid Yongzheng’s name and change his own. So he should be called Yinsi.

The character of the sister is gentle and virtuous when it sounds good, and cowardly when it sounds ugly. She always spends half the day reciting scriptures daily. I’m afraid I’m not very favored. In the last ten days I’ve been here I haven’t even heard eighth brother. But from the perspective of these last ten days older sister has been very good to me, from food to clothing, lest I feel uncomfortable. I sighed inwardly. If I couldn’t go back, then I could only rely on her in this time. But thinking about the fate of eight brother in the future, I felt that this reliance would be unreliable. However, after all, that was many years in later. And I couldn’t care about that right now.

When I returned to the house, my sister was already there. She was sitting at the table eating snacks. When she saw me enter she said with a bit of frustration, “You are not afraid of this heat hitting your head.”

I smiled stepping forward and sit next to her. “How can it be so expensive? Besides I went out like this, turned around. I feel my body is not as heavy as a few days ago.”

She looked at me and said, “You do look better, but the weather is poisonous now. Don’t go out again at this time.”

“I know”, I said.

Dongyun came over with a basin and partially knelt for me to wash my hands. I smiled secretly to myself and thought- I know, I know, I will talk about it next time if I do, or not. Qiaohui used a towel to dry my hands and picked out an amber cream to wipe them. It smelled sweet, but I didn’t know what to do.

I washed my hands and was about to pick out a few snacks to eat when I had a strange feeling and looked up. My sister kept staring at me. My heart skipped and I stared at her questioningly. “You… before had the rudest personality. Father’s words [characters translated to Ama] were not taken to heart. You fell and swayed people, being docile and courteous now!”

I breathed a sigh of relief, looked at the snacks and smiled at her. “Could it be that my sister wanted me to straighten up?” She picked up a hibiscus cake that I liked and handed it to me. “In half a year you will enter the girl draft. It’s a bit of a rule. How can you keep messing around?”

A mouthful of hibiscus cake stuck in my throat and choked me. She handed me some water. Qiaohui patted my back. Dongyun was busy with a handkerchief. Sister laughed in exasperation. “I just said there were rules! So you act like this for others to see? No one will rob you!”

Wiping my mouth, I thought to myself. “What should I do? Should I tell her I am not your sister Ruoxi? Of course not! I could only comfort myself. Isn’t there still half a year left?

I asked her casually, “I heard from sister last time that father was stationed in the northwest and I was sent here about a month ago. Could it be because of this girl draft that father has sent me here?

“Yes. Father said that since mother had died early you wouldn’t listen to auntie’s words. You were willing to listen to me, so I brought you here to educate you first.”

During this time I went to the circle in the morning after eating, and went to the circle after dinner in the evening. This is the only exercising method I can think of now. Although it is simple, the effects are very good. I feel more and more that this body is my own. It’s not like the first few days were when I woke up and felt powerless.

I also induced Qiaohui to lead me to the pavilion where Martai Ruoxi had fallen and stood there several times. I thought about jumping down on impulse. Maybe I would return to the modern time when next I opened my eyes. But I was more afraid of not returning, being stuck here.

Deep in my heart I felt the latter more likely. The terrifying scene I saw before falling into a coma after the car accident was no illusion. As for why my soul came to this ancient body I do not know.

Qiaohui accompanied me for a long walk. We were both a little tired. There was a flat patch behind the rockery. On a stone, Qiaohui spread a handkerchief for me to sit on. I sat next to her. The sun just went down, the stone was warm and a breeze was blowing a bit cool and comfortable.

I looked up at the sky overhead. The blue was starting to darken, but it was still crystal clear. It seemed like I could reach out my hand and touch it. I thought to myself that this was indeed heaven. The only other time I saw a similar sky in Beijing was on Lingshan. I missed my parents. My head hearts. Pain, not the pain of one’s own death, but the pain of grief of the white haired parents sending off their black haired children. But fortunately there is also my brother who has been the backbone of our parents since he was a child. I could feel relieved with him there.

While feeling sad, I heard Qiaohui say, “Second miss, you have indeed changed!”

My sister has been saying this a few days ago. I was nervous at the beginning, but now, I didn’t care as much. I still looked at the sky and asked, “Where is it? Move, before you fall. The Master said that you were a ‘wild horse’. You often persuade her to recite less scriptures and dress more brightly. I am also glad that someone finally persuaded her, but you didn’t mention it.”

I looked sideways at Qiaohui, but she had lowered her eyes as soon as she had met my gaze. I thought about it. “Sister is doing fine now.”

Qiaohui lowered her head and said with a trembling voice, “Very good? Yes.”

I didn’t know how to explain it to her. Should I tell her that eighth brother had a bleak future end. And that the closer you are now, the more hurt you will be in the future? I sighed and said, “It’s not bad for my sister to stay away from such things. She is now in a peaceful mood. Contentment is always happy. I can’t see what is wrong.”

Qiaohui looked up at me, as if to see if I were telling the truth. Finally she turned her head and said, “But those people at the house…”

I interrupted her, “Look up at the sky, look at such a beautiful sky. You will forget all all those unhappy things.” She couldn’t react but looked up at the sky in a daze, and then said again, “Look at me, what else do I want to say.” I tipped my head back to look at the sky. She finally swallowed her words and watched the sky with me.

Suddenly there was a burst of laughter and two people came around from the side of the rockery. The leading person was was shorter and slightly fatter. He laughed and said over his shoulder, “This little girl is interesting! A little girl of no more than thirteen or fourteen years old speaking as a person who has experienced the world. An old man who doesn’t fit his age!”

As soon as Qiaohui saw them, she immediately stood up and greeted them. “Ninth and Tenth auspicious brother.” I haven’t seen outsiders since I had come here. There is a difference between honor and inferiority. Fortunately I hadn’t watched many costume dramas and I hurriedly followed Qiaohui’s example and bowed in greeting. But my heart was beating like a drum. I had forgotten I was 13 now instead of 25.

The laughing boy stared me up and down, rubbing his chin with his hand. I figured out that he was Tenth brother and the one just behind him standing exceptionally straight was Ninth.

Ninth said flatly, “Get up!”

Qiaohui and I straightened up. I was thinking in my heart that amongst the famous sons of Kangxi the first I met was not eighth brother Xian Wang [late king], but the legendary poisonous snake Lao Jiu [old nine] and strawbag Lao Shi [translated as old teacher-unclear]. I didn’t say anything disrespectful, even if they had listened. I should be fine, right?

Ten smiled at me. “Are you from the Martai family?”

“Yes!” I replied.

He seemed to want to say something, but Nine urged, “Let’s go, Mynah [starling/eighth’s other name] is still waiting.”

Ten hurried past us patting his head shouting, “Yes, I look hot. Just forgot about business. Go, go, go!”

When the two of them had passed by, I watched thinking about the appearance of Tenth brother and sighed. “The ancients are sincere and I am not deceived.” Tenth’s face stiffened. He didn’t know who to blame for this ridicule. I was apprehensive, not wanting him to face me, but I couldn’t hold back. I burst out laughing again. He grinned at me and turned to chase Ninth.

When I walked back Qiaohui didn’t speak. I don’t know if it was because I was a bit scared just now or if I was dissatisfied. I had also been silent thinking in my heart. If my poor historical knowledge is correct, there may not be many twists in the bowels of Tenth. I am afraid of what he will tell Eighth casually: about what just happened. As for how Eighth will react, I have absolutely no idea. Considering his title is the virtuous king, he might not be so stingy a person. But I should tell my sister first. It is always good to prepare. I had made up my mind and was almost there when I slowed down and said to Qiaohui, “I always hope Sister is doing well. Don’t worry!” After speaking I walked into the house not caring how she reacted.

My sister was lying on her side on her couch, a servant at her feet massaging her legs. I made a silent gesture and sat down next to her. My sister could be called a beauty. I feel pity for her. With a pointed chin, her complexion is pretty good. She has white smooth skin that looks more crystal like under lamps. If this were modern times, I’m afraid she would have had people chasing after her.

She opened her eyes and caught me staring. She smiled. The maid helped her sit up. “You’re quieter now and don’t chatter when you come back. What’s so good about me?”

I returned her smile. “If my sister isn’t good looking, I’m afraid there will not be many good looking people.” The maid brought her a cup of water. Sister took a few sips and handed the cup back. She squinted.

I said lightly, “I met Ninth and Tenth brother in the garden.”

After awhile she opened her eyes, when she found I had nothing further to add, and glanced at the maid next to her. “Go and prepare bath supplies for her.” The maids backed out of the room as I stood up. I walked over and sat down next to her and told her about this evening. After listening in silence, sister stared at a glazed screen with painted horses across the room in a daze. After a long time she spoke up, “Little sister you have really grown up! You don’t act like a thirteen year old girl anymore. It’s like that fall aged you ten years!” It was indeed a big fall, I thought to myself.

A maid returned and said the hot water and bath supplies were ready. Sister pushed me. “Go take a bath.”

I stared at her and didn’t move.

She stared back. Her gaze a mixture of hurt and pity. “You have grown up now and know to think of your elder sister. I am very happy, but in my position you don’t have to think so much about anything as long as you don’t do anything out of the ordinary. It’s up to you to laugh and laugh.” She tidied my messy hair around my ear and said softly, “In the future… when you enter the palace what you want… will be an impossibility.”

I vaguely understood what she was trying to say to me and my heart became heavy. I responded, “Well…” and followed the maid to bathe.

After that day, although I hadn’t said anything outrageous, I still had a level of worry in my heart. When the day passed and there was no movements I gradually calmed down. I reminded myself to be careful in the future, in word and deed. My sister is not favored and I should not cause her any trouble.

After taking an afternoon nap, I went to greet sister. Seeing all the servants and maids around me were all happy, but her face was pale. “What is wrong?”

She said nothing and tried to smile. It was a sour smile. Qiaohui answered happily, “The servant that had just come has said he would be joining us for dinner this evening.”

I didn’t know how to respond so I sat in silence. My sister seeing this tried to soothe me. “It’s nothing important. Dongyun, take the young miss back and dress her properly. Even though this is a family meal it will be her first time meeting Bei’le. It would be rude not to prepare.”

Combing hair, brushing eye brows, and dressing in ancient styles- I am not good at these. Let the maids handle it, I will be a puppet. But I never have an idle moment, thinking about the Qing palace drama yet to come. The eighth prince has always been Yongzheng’s mortal enemy, someone who is always his opponent, who hates sleeping and eating: definitely not a normal person. I began to look forward to this evening as though I would be meeting an idol face to face.

Once dressed, I realized how much ancient women had suffered. The the head and feet are solidly wrapped up, not much different from wrapping zongzi. But it is still summer and uncomfortable! I kept twisting on my stool. The time for dinner was early but still eighth brother hasn’t appeared. The fresh feeling was dissipating and I couldn’t keep still. I stood quickly, grabbing a fan from a nearby maid. Sister frowned as I asked, “Why is it so hot?”

As I fanned myself, I said, “If he doesn’t show up I am going back to change. I’m going to suffer!” Before I could finish my words, the curtain lifted and three people filed in. The 23/24 year old in front was tall, wearing moon white robes with a green belt at the waist and a jade pendant of similar color hanging from it. His face was as beautiful as jade and eyes bright like stars. I secretly praised him. He has some feminine looks but he is really beautiful for a man.

When he saw me, he startled, briefly surprised. He quickly relaxed his features with a smile as he watched me. I quickly reacted to bow. The maids and servants already bowing, well before I had. Show up, busy, bowing down! Alas, I am still not used to these rules of comings and goings. He smiled down at me and helped me back up. “Get up.” Looking past me he said to my sister, “Something came up that delayed me with ninth and tenth brother, as well as other matters. So we came together as it was too late to notify you.

Sister smiled, “It’s no big deal. After all, you are the master.”

Ninth and Tenth seated themselves and the maids approached to offer water and towels to freshen up before eating. Sister turned and ordered the servants to pass around the meal. I just stood there. Sister! Did you forget me?!

Ninth was expressionless and Tenth still looked like a ruffian. He kept glancing at me from time to time since entering the room. There was a lazy smile on his face. After a moment my sister returned and smiled, “It’s time to eat!” Eighth also smiled and opened the door. He glanced at me with another smile. “Is this Ruoxi? A few days ago you were not feeling so well. Are you feeling better now?”

I replied, “Almost.”

Eighth smiled at me and said, “You’re alright, stop standing, sit!”

I glanced over to my sister who didn’t respond and I sat down.

During dinner Eighth laughed and said a few words to my sister from time to time. Normally I have an excellent appetite. Tonight I had no appetite because of the heat. He kept going on and on, and it became difficult for me to even swallow. I thought, ‘Am I a beautiful appetizer for him?’

I stole a look around the room and found no one was paying attention. I immediately raised my gaze and stared hard at Tenth. He was having a good time eating. I was stunned. Occasionally he forgot the chopsticks in his mouth. I stared at his stupid face again and felt ridiculous. I pursed my lips into a smile and lowered my head to eat. Inadvertently I had glanced over and saw sister, Eighth, and Ninth staring at me. My heart skipped and I choked and coughed. I waved my hand to indicate I was okay. Tenth laughed at me but I didn’t dare look up at him. Pretending nothing was wrong I gargled some water and returned to eating, my face burning.

After finally completing the meal, Eighth sat a while. Eventually he had gotten up with Ninth and Tenth.

An older servant asked, “Would you like the door unbarred tonight?”

Eighth said lightly, “No need.”

As soon as they had left I jumped up happily and called for Qiaohui to help me change. Sister smiled and fanned me. “Why are you so afraid of the heat? We are fine.”

I smiled but didn’t reply. You are used to being wrapped up like zongzi since young, but I am used to lighter clothing. People wear skirts in the summer.

Once Eighth and the others had left, my sister and I were happy, but not a trace of joy was on the servants faces. I thought about it for a while and came to understand, but I didn’t care as my sister didn’t mind.

Next chapter:

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soov-archived · 2 years

Text

WR⩇NG R⩇⩇M! O4. dope !!

warnings & an! ⠀ 3.4k words. no cursing in this one, except for a ‘stupid’!! the pictures aren't supposed to describe the reader's features. i recommend you to listen to the playlist since it'd help setting up the mood :]

MAY 4TH, 2022.

“Jakey!”

April's loud voice startled you, making your head turn upwards. Scanning the long corridor, your eyes settled on Enhypen's members and management. After typing a quick answer to your friend Sunoo on Twitter, you waved to the small crowd. Mingyu, who was sleeping soundly on your shoulder, woke up with a shake of your body.

“Hey, guys!” Smiling, you stood up from your seat in front of a big dance room, where you and your members waited for the beginning of the reunion.

The Canadian waddled towards Jake, her closest friend in Be:Lift's group, and hugged him. He grinned brightly at her, his well-ironed flannel getting wrinkles from the strength of their embrace. After being released from the warm-hearted greeting, the girl nodded toward the other artists and shied away nervously. You then noticed how April was only comfortable around the blonde, finding their interaction amusing.

You also took note of how only four of them came earlier to the meeting as your group did — Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungwon.

Sunghoon seemed slightly awkward, saying small ‘Hello!’'s to your members and staff as he showed you a polite grin. Jake looked calm, though he rubbed his hands on each other frequently. Jay did a firm wave and gave the group his signature smile with pressed lips.

And Jungwon?

Well, your eyes weren't focused on him. In fact, they were actively trying to look anywhere but at the boy.

When you set your gaze on Eunjoo, she giggled, rather to not attract any attention to her next move. With a subtle nudge of her slim eyebrows towards Jungwon, bang, you understood her intentions.

To any other person in the corridor, she was merely happy with the encounter. However, to the VOON members, she was threatening you like any cheerful mother would. “Talk to him yourself or I'll introduce you two loudly and embarrassingly”.

Mingyu snorted at your frightened reaction while Sora did the same, patting the second oldest on the shoulder to calm her down.

“I don't want to.” You mouthed, flabbergasted.

“Y/n, go.“ Eunjoo mouthed back, still radiating a mellow energy.

“He already knows!”

“Go.”

“But–”

“Ni-Ki, Heeseung hyung, and Sunoo are still at the dorms.” Jay unknowingly interrupted your discussion, adjusting his denim jacket and putting his hands on his pants' pockets. “Sorry about that. They lost track of time.”

“Oh, Sunoo told me.” A hurried chuckle escaped your lips as you explained the Twitter situation, hand waving him off. At least you got to talk to someone. “It's completely fine. We arrived about ten minutes ago, and the meeting only starts in half an hour, anyways.”

“You're friends with Sunoo?” Jake tilted his head, surprised; half because he wasn't the only one who was friends with someone from VOON, half because Sunoo never told them about it.

Jay and Sunghoon were also slightly shocked that the youngest knew you, since both of them were trainees with almost all your members but didn't pass the ‘acquaintances’ label. Their leader only watched the scene unfold, knowing very well about the blonde boy's relationship with you.

“Yeah, I am.” You confirmed, trying to keep eye contact with them and jabbing a finger towards your bandmate. “Sora is too.”

“All of us are quite close to him.” The said girl explained, back leaning against a wall, arms crossed. “We just don't get to hang out with him a lot, but Y/n does most of the time. Kinda secretly because of paps and all that jazz.”

“Oh!” Exclaiming at the same time, the clueless young adults nodded in comprehension.

“We should hang out too and get to know each other,” Eunjoo offered kindly, giving the conversation a pause as the staff cackled loudly at a random storytime someone shared. She raised her brows nonchalantly and turned back to the juniors. “Maybe inside the building, like in the cafeteria. We don't want to catch any dating scandals.”

Again, in unison, they shook their heads in agreement. “It would be lovely,” Jake spoke on their behalf.

“Talking about hanging out...” Jungwon started and everybody's attention turned to him, including yours. His eyes widened in the slightest when the other idols curiously wondered what he had to say. “... Can I talk to you, Y/n? Please? It'll be real quick, I promise.” He finished his request, hoping everyone would just shrug it off.

“Oh.” You muttered, ignoring the gazes your group gave you. Subtly, you took a deep breath, mustering all the courage you had. “Yeah, of course.”

Jungwon's hands motioned towards an empty hallway where you could talk in peace. You trailed behind the red-headed boy, toying with the strings of your sweats.

“You got this,” Eunjoo whispered, and you thought she was extremely good at being discreet, given that nobody noticed her encouraging moves for two times.

April gave you a thumbs up, hiding her hand behind her propped-up leg. The youngest Park, almost telepathically, repeated the words of the eldest. Mingyu didn't even bother to reassure you, glaring at Yang down the corridor. They were sweet, too sweet.

On other hand, Enhypen's 02z, as they liked to call themselves, held back teasing laughs when they saw their leader's “calm” face. Sunghoon's chuckles, though, were much more sarcastic than the others. After all, he still held a faint grudge against Jungwon's secret (and pretty much nonexistent) love life.

As you two reached the desired place, Yang wiggled his eyebrows. Your first thought was that he wanted to indicate something, but when he repeated the gesture, you realized it was a habit of his.

“So...” A sigh through closed teeth. His phrase began with hesitance, but it was obvious how hard he tried to play it off.

“So?” You pushed, knowing well what he was about to say.

“My manager told me about your dance room... 4-2, I mean.” He kept his composure, but his tone made him look like he was a five-year-old again, and his parents caught him eating candy before lunch. “I'm sorry. I've been using it for a while, but I didn't know it was yours.”

Technically, he wasn't lying. Jungwon had been using 4-2 for months, probably a few weeks more than you. Yet, your schedules didn't match, making you fail to meet each other. Whenever you were at the building, he was out or busy with a group practice, and vice versa. He truly never knew that the studio had an owner before his manager told him.

“I'm so sorry if I made you lose your practice.” He gazed down, playing with a ring and keeping his hands on display. It would be plainly rude if he put them in his pocket (his grandmother taught him that it makes people look uninterested or bored). “I also want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable when I talked to you outside the elevator.”

Almost immediately, you shook your head. “You didn't make me uncomfortable. It's all good. You also don't need to apologize, I just didn't know how to tell you that 4-2 was mine without making you upset, y'know?”

‘Upset?’, he mused in his head. Why would you worry about making him upset? Jungwon had no idea of what you were talking about, but he nodded nevertheless.

“I thought you were shy?” Yang tried to develop his observations, measuring his words so he wouldn't come off as insolent. “Yeah, I was really embarrassed when we saw each other because I look up to you a lot, but you seemed a bit nervous.”

Jungwon's efforts to make you feel comfortable around him were paying off. The fact that he looked up to you — like any other fan would — but still didn't believe what only the cameras showed was genuinely mindful of him. He was part of the industry, and he did the bare minimum, but you still cherished that moment.

And, of course, it's not every day that a dance prodigy and ace told you that they looked up to you. Your neck heated up at his comment and his ears did the same.

“I'm not shy or anything, I just really don't know how to start a one-on-one chat.” You finally explained, not wanting to give the wrong impression. “It's not a problem when people are already talking and I... Talk to them too? But I'm awkward when I don't know the person enough to make a whole conversation with them.”

Your face went up to look at Jungwon. He was smiling softly — so softly that you wondered if his stupidly cute grin could even beat the smoothness of a ball of cotton. Maybe even a marshmallow or a bunny's fur.

A quiet sigh escaped your nose, focus dropping to his collar in some type of disappointment. “I rambled, didn't I?”

These four words were enough to shake him out of his daze, lips opening in a rush. “No, no! You're great. I actually ramble all the time back in the dorms or in lives... In interviews too! The hyungs always complain about it because I share too much info about them. Ni-Ki and Sunoo hyung don't get mad at me, though. They also talk a lot, so they're chill.”

His pace wasn't that fast, but you still had a hard time trying to get everything Jungwon said. He looked too cute even when it wasn't his intention.

Laughs filled the hallway's two long walls when Jungwon took note of his incoherent speech, just like ASAP did in your first encounter. Slowly, the tension that once made your talks weird dissipated. It was nice having someone with the same problem you had, even when the issue was relatively stupid.

“You can use 4-2 if you want to,” you said gently. “I mean, when I'm not practicing, you can use it. I wouldn't mind.”

“Are you serious?” He questioned, his eyes sparkling with the same hope from your ‘elevator moment’, head tilting to the side like days ago.

“‘Course I'm serious.” Your shoulders collided softly as you two shared a toothy grin, head hanging low. “I don't mind sharing the studio, so feel free to use it!”

“Ah, thank you, Y/n!” Jungwon's dimples poked out. He walked by your side as you mutually agreed to go back to your friends.

Turning to the main hall, a voice called out for you. “Y/n!” Sunoo, who had arrived a minute before with the remaining two members, ran to hug you while giggling. His long arms wrapped around your middle, lifting your feet from the ground cautiously. The redhead backed up, frowning at the sudden interruption of your talk. “I missed you, stupid. You only answer my tweets and never my calls!”

“Sorry, Sun,” you snickered when your friend tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face on your neck. You reciprocated his gesture. “My phone was on vibrate these past days.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rolled his caramel irises playfully, squeezing you one last time before letting you go and taking your hand in his. “Oh, hi, Wonie! Good morning!” Sunoo waved to his leader eagerly.

The younger one didn't even had time to salute his hyung back when he quickly made his way to the others, pulling you along. Jungwon walked behind you two in a slow pace.

“‘Wonie’?” You repeated Sunoo's words, watching the peach boy's cheeks inflate happily.

“We call Jungwon ‘Wonie’ or ‘Won’.” He explicated, looking at you sideways and hopping around.

“Cute.” Giggling, you cooed at the nickname. As you stopped by your members, you greeted Ni-Ki and Heeseung, receiving a boxy grin and a bow from the tall artists.

The clock hit ten; everybody entered the spacious dance room (VOON and your manager, Jihoon, Enhypen and their own, Taejin). Some stayed back for a bit, waiting for the others to go in first. The most energetic and outgoing ones led the way — Sunoo being one of them, dragging you with him, hands still glued together.

“Good morning, kids.” Jihoon opened the meeting, black clipboard and pen in his arms.

A chant of ‘Good morning’'s was heard by all, loud and clear. Ni-Ki frowned at how he referred to you as children, shifting his weight from one side to another.

“Great to know everyone is wide awake.” The older male flipped his pen, scanning the horizontal line the twelve of you made in front of him.

“It's 10 AM, sir. If anyone wasn't awake by now it'd be very embarrassing.” Jay threw a shade at his class colleague, maknae, and long-time friend.

He probably wasn't trying to be funny, therefore, April already had lost her ten dollars (she didn't know why they were betting with the American currency if they lived in South Korea). Still, his remark made Mingyu and Jake snort and cover it with fake coughs.

Offended, Sunoo made a disgusted face, followed by Riki, who ignored the elder; Lee stomped on his friend's foot childishly. With that not being enough, he tried kicking his ankle, just for Jay to dodge in time.

“That's... Okay, nevermind.” Your boss amusedly said. Taejin apologized for his group's behavior faintly, and Jihoon waved him off. Gesturing to your group with the tip of his marker, he subtly affirmed that you were worse.

“We're here today to talk about Kpop Flex and some changes that had to be made.” The other one announced, checking his yellow clipboard and papers. “As you know, the festival will be held on Saturday, May 14th, and Sunday, May 15th. Enhypen would perform Saturday, and VOON, Sunday. However, the event's organizers told us yesterday that Monsta X, who also would be performing Saturday, had their show moved to May 15th.”

There was silence for almost a minute as Taejin read his notes.

“Excuse me, Taejin-nim, but how does that affect any of us?” Eunjoo broke the quietude, uneasy.

“Ah, yes!” His eyes shot up with Jihoon nudging him. “As Monsta X changed their performance to Sunday, there would be nine groups performing, including Kai, who's a soloist, and VOON. Saturday would have only eight.”

“‘Would’? So we aren't performing Sunday anymore?” April asked, sadly pouting.

“No, unfortunately,” Jihoon answered with the same dismay. “You'll have your performance Saturday to balance the festival, and the organization asked for a collab stage between VOON and Enhypen to gain more show time.”

Nobody was expecting these news, loud exclamations of shock cut one another off. Sora, instead, punched the air, almost hitting Sunghoon.

“Yes, yes, yes! Told you, told you, told you, and told you too! I knew it!” Her pointer finger lightly pushed your and your bandmates’ chests, throat almost getting sore from the loudness of her cackles. “Ten bucks, April and Y/n! You two owe me ten bucks!”

“Sora, be quiet.” Eunjoo sternly warned. Silence settled down one more time as the teen fearfully got back in line. “Is this collab on paper with Kpop Flex? Did you already solve it?”

“Yes, we did, Eunjoo. No need to worry.” Jihoon dismissed her calmly.

With the sound of notes flipping being the only tone in the room, your brain began to overthink the circumstances. Realization hit you hard. There would be another song to practice, another new choreography to learn, another this, another that. You didn't have any time, energy, or motivation for a collab stage.

Sunoo promptly noticed how your expression fell as his thumb drew imaginary stars and hearts on the back of your hand. “It'll be alright. I'm with you on this one — we'll do our best together, hm?”

“I suppose so.” Turning your head up and down, you muttered.

Hence the lack of noise inside the studio, the concept of your managers being as dissatisfied as all of you were was possible. No one bothered to say anything once the depressing air got thicker.

“You're performing a song of your HYBE sunbaenims.” Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Gosh, I feel like I'm announcing a new round of a survival show.”

Enhypen surprisedly laughed at the spontaneous comment, reminiscing their I-Land days.

“You'll perform ‘Dope’ by Bangtan Sonyeondan, but with an extra dance break.” Jihoon completed, and you gasped in relief when he mentioned a song that you partly knew the choreography.

“The stage will be held after Enhypen finishes their last set track. They'll start the song, singing and dancing, and go until the second chorus. VOON will enter, going until the rap. The dance break starts with four of you. After that, everybody finishes the stage together and VOON starts their show. You kids got it?”

“Yeah,” one and all agreed, memorizing his long commands and taking it all in.

“This is the dance break,” the man played a short clip of a BTS’ show with a wall projector.

It was the original ‘Dope’ chorus, succeeded by a remixed one, way more energetic than the song itself. Identical to the full dance, the break was divided into units; this specific one, of four people — two duos.

“Jungwon, Ni-Ki, Eunjoo, Y/n, we thought about putting you to do the dance break.” Taejin declared, making Heeseung nudge his younger brothers. “Jungwon and Eunjoo are both the leaders and good dancers, you'd be a duo. Y/n and Ni-Ki are the official main dancers, you'd be the other. According to what we've researched, your collab will most likely receive a good feedback. What do you think?”

“I'm okay with it!” You blurted without thinking, making Joo and Sunoo look at you worriedly.

“Really, Y/n? If you don't think you can do it, don't push yourself.” Your leader reassured you, unfortunately knowing that you needed to do it due to contracts and bureaucracy.

“Really, unnie.” A smile graced your features despite your tired state of mind and body.

“I'm okay with it, too.” Eunjoo said, nodding to Jihoon.

“Same for Ni-ki and I,” Jungwon accepted the request, disappointed that he wasn't paired up with you, but cheerful with the positive thought that he could use these ten days to try to befriend you.

“Great! Unfortunately, the choreographer for Dope can't assist you, but we still have the original video he made for the song and dance break. A producer will check up on you in five days.” Ending the reunion, Taejin gave the last pieces of information. “The lyrics distribution and video will be available on whichever company device you need and in your e-mails. We expect all of you to practice every day until the festival. We're sorry for putting you into this right before the show, but we didn't have any other choice. Any questions?”

“No, sir!”

“Then I think that's a wrap, kids.” Jihoon patted Jake's shoulder. “If you have any difficulties, tell us. Taejin and I will get going now. Good luck, everyone! Fighting!”

The duo disappeared in a blink, leaving the twelve of you alone in the studio, an image of BTS’ show still being projected on the wall.

“Geez... They really left just like that.” You pointed out, making the others laugh.

“What do we do now?” Ni-ki asked, looking at his members due to the shyness that he felt around VOON, especially around you, his third biggest role model, right next to the almighty Michael Jackson and Key.

“We should share our numbers first, no?” Jay suggested. “If there's a change of plans, we'll get to let everyone know, at least.”

Sunghoon sniggered, pushing his platinum blonde hair back coyly. “What plans? I don't remember planning anything.”

“We will start planning after the number exchange, if the sunbaenims agree on it, though.” Jay retorted, his voice softening by the end of his sentence.

“You don't need to call us sunbaenim, Jay. Noona is okay to me, and the others, besides April, are all younger than you, anyways.” Eunjoo noted. “And we can exchange numbers, it's a smart idea beginning with it.”

Sora's face comically lit up, a lightbulb almost appearing on top of her head. “We can share our Twitter usernames, too!”

At the mention of the app, you and Jungwon whipped your phones out madly fast in full panic mode. You deleted the tweet about lying to him and the one about how the meeting would be awkward. Yang almost deleted his whole account, seeing that it was filled with quote retweets on your pictures.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you smiled, examining the room. Phones were being passed back and forth, Ni-Ki holding his own nervously in front of you. “Yeah, let's share our users.”

PREV M.LiST NEXT

⠀

⠀ ⠀ yang jungwon, the leader of enhypen, keeps using his senior’s dance room to practice even after his manager calls him out. what is he going to do when the said senior finds out that he's not only doing it on purpose, but also trying to win her heart?

⠀ ⠀ pairing idol!yjw & f!idol!reader

⠀ ⠀ © soov, 2O22.

⠀

REi'S N⩇TES ⠀ IM SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT SO MUCH FOR THIS CHAPTER 💔💔 i got the biggest writer block .. . this is basically my apology letter . 🙁 yn collecting all the enha members #Slay !! btw it's mingyu on yn's lockscreen & won didnt glare at ni-ki !! he was just looking at him with a funny face LMAOO

TAGLiST ( CLOSED! ) @fadedluvv @hiqhkey @wony-graps @4hysgf @mfbookishbitch-vhae @raimbows4u @ahnneyong @drunkjazed @ssseob @777wonz @kange3939 @byhsng @i-yeseo @riverkee @luvdokja @she-is-dreaming @luveuly @zeraaax @eunbiland @ineedcoffeeandtherapy @ch0ijiung @mxristars @itznotshy @jaxavance @mitsukifilms @4vonly @jovibaes @hykai @kkalechip @kittyeji @boowoowho @jeongintwt @chukiez

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one ✘ two ✘ three

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Little Red’s Shadow Part 2

Pairing: Werewolf Pero Tovar x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5500+

Summary: Conclusion and Follow up of Part 1

Warnings: no beta all mistakes are my own, language, werewolf/shapeshifter AU with little red riding hood elements, creepy handsy drunk guy, pining, angst, drama, confessions, reader’s father makes a cameo

Author Note: I am so so unbelievably blown away by the incredible support Part 1 of this fic received. Never ever did I anticipate the encouragement and fanart and kindness sent my way. You are all so amazing and sweet and I love each of you so much it’s ridiculous. Just like the first part, this conclusion is just as self-indulgent and fingers crossed someone out there likes this as much as I do 💗💗💗

“The wolves are never meant to be anything other than defending. They’re not meant to be aggressors.” -- Joe Carnahan

The tavern is crowded tonight.

That’s the first thing you notice when you enter, nervously picking at the hem of your blouse while looking around the dimly lit room for Pero. There are a couple of booths lining the back walls and some tables arranged in the center close to the bar. Overhead the ceiling is high with lightbulbs hanging from strings attached to wooden beams.

Some of your fellow villagers offer words of greeting when you step past them on your way towards the bar, and you politely smile back at them, trying not to let your disappointment show that none of them are the one you truly want to see.

William approaches you after you’ve ordered a drink, sliding onto the stool next to yours with a bright enough smile you suspect he’s had more than a few pints already this evening.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that your quarrel with Pero is over,” he says while motioning at the bartender for another drink. “His doom and gloom wasn’t good for business.”

You frown, brow creasing with worry. “You didn’t consider firing him, did you?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “He’s a grump, but when he’s focused he works well. Especially after he gets back from his lunch break.”

A snort of laughter escapes you, recalling several times you’d visited the blacksmith shop early in the morning before dawn and caught Pero stuffing his face with breakfast. He ate like he had no clue where his next meal was coming from, ravenously tearing apart strips of bacon with his teeth with the same ferocity as a wild animal.

“He is quite a fan of food.”

“Actually, he usually takes off into the woods,” William corrects you, accepting his drink from the bartender. He gulps down a few mouthfuls of beer, then licks the foam from his upper lip before adding, “I guess the fresh air clears his head. Do you ever see him out on the trails?”

Rather than Pero, Shadow comes to mind instead, followed by a sharp pain in your chest when you think about his absence, how he hadn’t reappeared to walk you home. It isn’t fair how you’ve fixed one relationship in your life only for another one to fall to pieces. Why did there have to be a consequence for your moment of happiness?

“No,” you answer softly, looking down at your drink with the foolish desire that the amber liquid could reveal all the answers to your problems. “I haven’t seen him.”

William doesn’t linger long after that, heading for the door with a cheeky wink after wishing you good luck on your date. You try to feel bolstered by his belief that the date is, in fact, happening still, but every minute that ticks by without Pero threatens to crumble your confidence into dust.

You scrub a hand over your face, wondering if maybe you pushed too hard for a date. But the way he’d pressed a kiss to your palm doesn’t suggest he’d felt cornered. No, he’d definitely been interested then. You’re certain of that.

The question is, did something change his mind in the hours between then and now? And if so, what was that something? Do you even have a chance to change it back?

“You’ll give yourself gray hairs worrying about the unknown,” your mother used to warn you before she became sick, teasingly pulling on your braid. “I promise the puzzle pieces life hands you will all make sense if you’re patient.”

Patience has never been your strong suit which leads you to order a second drink, figuring alcohol is a good enough distraction from your worry for the time being. Your future self might hate you in the morning, but your present self is on her way to becoming pleasantly buzzed.

You nearly choke on your mouthful when a hand grazes your hip, fingers sneaking beneath your blouse to touch skin. Turning, you find yourself uncomfortably close to a stranger, clearly drunk and uncaring of personal boundaries. His acrid-smelling breath invades your nostrils and makes your stomach churn nauseously. You mentally curse your bad luck, realizing that yes, things can actually get worse.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl,” the stranger says. His speech is slurred, but the lust in his eyes shines bright beneath the hanging lightbulbs. “Care for some company?”

You lean away from him, teetering on the edge of the stool. “Not yours,” you snap, discomfort rising at an alarming rate.

He smirks, intrigued rather than offended. “I bet I could persuade you.”

Your upper lip curls with disgust, but before you have the chance to retort, a wall of warmth plasters itself against your backside with a threatening growl that vibrates through your chest, rattling your ribcage with its intensity.

“Back off, cabrón.” Your heart stutters when you recognize Pero’s gravelly baritone instantly. He sounds on the verge of turning feral, his voice laced with fury. “Now.”

The stranger, either emboldened by the amount of alcohol in his system or just plain fucking stupid, rolls his eyes at Pero. “Fine, whatever. Just get the bitch a muzzle for that mouth.”

Pero moves faster than your eyes can track, slamming the stranger’s head so hard against the counter of the bar it echoes throughout the whole room. Shock ripples across the crowd, all eyes zeroing in on Pero. And you don’t blame them.

He looks downright murderous with his lips twisted into a cruel scowl, eyes blazing.

“Pero,” you begin, nervously glancing between the crowd and him. “Stop. It’s fine. I’m fine. Trust me, he’s not worth it. Just let him go. Please.”

Pero’s eyes flick towards you, reflecting the light strangely, looking more gold than their usual dark brown coloring, and for a split second you think he’s going to ignore you, but then he leans down and mutters something in the man’s ear too low for you to detect. The stranger’s face drains of color, terror written in every line of his expression, and when Pero finally releases him he takes off on shaky legs towards the door with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Realizing the drama is over, the crowd gradually resumes their conversations once more, filling the silence with chatter and the clinking of glasses. You move closer to Pero who has his head ducked, avoiding eye contact and glaring holes into the floor, hands flexing at his sides.

You reach for one of his hands slowly, giving him the time to reject your touch, but his fingers clutch onto yours like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, just loud enough for your ears alone to hear. “For being late. For my temper. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” you say, the guilt in his voice making your chest hurt. You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Pero looks up at you, lips stretching into a slow, pleased smile. You fight the urge to press a kiss against the dimple on his cheek, instead returning the grin with a soft one of your own.

“Can we take a walk, little red?”

You nod, butterflies whirling in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

Stars peer down from the night sky while hanging lanterns and street lamps provide more than enough light to illuminate your path as you and Pero stroll through the village. He has yet to let go of your hand, warmth buzzing through your whole body from the point of contact.

“Most people who stop by the depot to trade are gone by the next day,” you say, the thought occurring as you pass by the building. “But not you.”

“I didn’t plan to stay,” Pero admits, hearing the unspoken question. He scratches at his scruffy cheek with his free hand as he searches for the right words. “I happened to find something that made me change my mind.”

Although your curiosity immediately piques with interest, you don’t ask what that something is, respecting his desire to keep it vague. “I forgot to say,” you murmur, “but I like your haircut. It’s much better than that shaggy, mountain man look you had when we first met.”

He smirks. “Is that so? You know, you were the first person I’d seen in months.” His expression turns thoughtful, as if he’s begun unfolding the memory in his mind like an old photograph. “It was hard for me, remembering how to use words and talk to humans.”

Specifically referencing humans sticks out in your mind as oddly phrased, but then again, what do you know about wandering the wilderness completely alone for months? Maybe if you were in his shoes, you’d also have forgotten how to socialize.

You bite your lip, trying to think of something lighthearted to say, but instead what comes tumbling out of your mouth is, “Did you ever encounter any wolves?” Seeing his startled expression, you rush to add, “It’s just...The way you looked at my field guide, you seemed like you hated them.”

Pero hums, shoulders losing some of their tension. “I crossed paths with one once,” he confirms, calm and detached. He stops walking, pulling gently on your hand to turn you towards him, and he gestures towards his scar. “It gave me this. I’m fortunate it did not rob me of my sight.”

Unthinkingly, you brush your fingertips beneath his eye along his cheekbone where the scar ends. His skin is surprisingly warm beneath your touch, and he makes your breath catch in your lungs by tilting his head, pressing his cheek firmer against your hand, almost nuzzling it.

Little by little you’re starting to uncover a soft, gentle soul beneath his hard-bitten exterior. And in that exact moment you think, I wouldn’t mind falling in love with you.

“I tried to hate wolves for what was done to me,” Pero confesses quietly when you start walking again, heading towards your home, “but my mamá told me as a child that all things happen for a reason, good and bad. There are no accidents.”

“My mother told me to never believe in coincidences.”

His lips curl at the corners, glancing at you with a fond look that nearly has you tripping over your feet. “We were raised by smart women.”

When you reach your front door, you lean your back against it, reluctant to say goodnight to him. You feel something new and special has formed between the two of you, something precious to protect and cherish for years to come.

Pero stands close, eyes drifting over your face, as if trying to memorize every detail. His thumb brushes smoothly over your knuckles, a soothing motion sparking warmth up your arms. When his gaze dips towards your mouth, you subconsciously start to lean in, magnetized by his presence.

“Little red,” he murmurs, a note of audible nervousness in his voice that makes you pause. “There’s something you need to know about me. Something important.”

“Okay.” You draw in a shaky breath, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “What is it, Pero?”

Pero doesn’t answer immediately, watching you with eyes deep and soulful, conveying a silent message you cannot read. You wish you could understand, that you could spare him the discomfort he so obviously feels, but you don’t. And so you say nothing. Silence fills the space, threatening to drown you both.

“Tomorrow,” Pero says finally, and the word is firm, coated in steel. “Tomorrow I’ll come see you at the depot and we’ll talk then.”

You tilt your head, stomach twisting with nervousness. “Alright,” you say slowly, reluctant to pressure him. “If...If that’s what you want.”

He makes a face at that, like it’s the last thing in the world he wants but he’s not going to admit it. Instead, he presses a kiss to your hand, the roughness of his stubble tickling your skin, and says, “Buenas noches, little red.”

"A howl is as infectious to a wolf as a yawn is to a human."— Kevin Ansbro

Storms aren’t a common occurrence during the spring season, but when they do occur it’s as if the skies open up like a damn bursting and flood the village without remorse.

You’re warm and dry within the depot, watching the lightning flash angrily across the sky through the window. You hope the storm isn’t a bad omen for your conversation with Pero, your fingers twitching restlessly as you wonder what he plans to tell you. Whatever it is, he’d sounded serious when referencing it. Like it’s something that could permanently alter your perception of him.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you think, nodding to yourself.

The incessant howling of the wind outside grates on your ears, but it is not loud enough to muffle conversation between a pair of hunters walking around the depot seeking new equipment to replace their drenched ones.

You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but in your defense, they’re not attempting to whisper and the small size of the room makes it virtually impossible to ignore their voices.

“Better stock up on silver. Full moon’s coming up,” the older of the two warns his companion. He goes by the title Sir Ballard, claiming he used to be a prodigious teacher in his younger years before turning to a life full of hunting and adventuring. Foreign languages are his favorite subject to discuss, but he’s also an expert on ancient myths and legends. You think his stories of aliens and mysterious beasts are a little too far-fetched to be believable, but they’re entertaining nevertheless.

“What’s so special about full moons?” the other hunter asks.

“Nothing if you’re a human,” Ballard answers, adopting his wise professor voice, “but if you’ve got wolf blood in you, the sight of the moon makes you a savage and mindless creature. If you ever come across one, you better hope you’ve got silver with you and good aim because if their bite doesn’t kill you, it’ll turn you. That’s the curse of a werewolf.”

“How do you tell a regular wolf apart from a werewolf?”

“You can’t. That’s why I kill every wolf I see.” Ballard chuckles, causing a shudder to crawl down your spine, a pit forming in your stomach. “Hell, I killed one last night at my camp. Tried to steal food from me and I stabbed it with my knife.”

Your lungs seize up, feeling as if you’ve been kicked in the ribs. No thoughts float in your head beyond white noise and Shadow’s name on repeat.

“Sir Ballard,” you say, internally cringing at the audible tremble but you’re incapable of fixing it. “Where exactly did you kill the wolf?”

He raises an eyebrow, expression turning concerned, probably wondering why you look seconds away from keeling over, but eventually he admits, “In these surrounding woods. I would have brought its pelt to trade, but the damage from my blade was too severe. I’ve never seen so much blood before.”

The revolting image of Shadow’s perforated corpse with scarlet streams pouring from his wounds is more than enough to send you spiraling into a panic attack. Your clothes suddenly feel too tight, your hands shaking at your sides, and the walls are closing in around you. Inching closer and closer, stealing your oxygen without remorse.

No. No, no, no.

You don’t realize you’ve moved until fat, icy droplets of rain smack against your skin, drenching you from head to toe, and shocks your system back online.

You need to find Shadow. Need to see him alive and breathing one more time at least. You’ll never forgive yourself if the last interaction you ever had with him was a heartbreaking rejection.

Blinking away the rainwater dripping from your eyelashes, you set your sight upon the forest and take off sprinting. You probably look like a madwoman, running through the storm, soaked to the bone, but all that matters is your wolf.

Lightning streaks across the sky followed by a boom of thunder that shakes the ground as you enter the forest. The trail is a river of grit and mud beneath your feet and the wind assaults the trees relentlessly, turning the scenery you knew and loved into an unrecognizable nightmare.

You frantically search for any trace of Shadow’s presence, ignoring the chattering of your teeth and the harsh sting of raindrops pelting against your skin. Your hair is absolutely soaked and you’ve never felt so stupidly helpless in your life. Hell, you’re not even sure the direction you’re heading in is even the right one leading to the grassy clearing.

“Shadow,” you call out, raising your voice to be heard over the storm. “Shadow!”

But your wolf does not appear.

You refuse to give up, screaming his name until your vocal chords are scratchy and hoarse. Panic pulses through your veins and every breath of air gets harder and harder to inhale, black spots appearing in the corners of your vision.

Another deafening burst of thunder sends you careening sideways, shoulder striking against a tree trunk. Its bark digs painfully into your flesh, eliciting a whimper from your sore throat as pain radiates through your collarbone and backside.

You sink to the ground, curling into a shivering ball at the tree’s base before looking to the dark sky miserably. The overhead branches look eerily similar to claws, reminding you of your childhood fear of the woods. You had been convinced monsters lived in them. Giant, scary creatures with red eyes and sharp fangs who would steal you away if you got too close.

You remember being seven years old and staring anxiously at the tall trees as your mother hung laundry to dry upon a clothesline.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” your mother said, voice gentle and comforting, laying a hand upon your head. “If you ever see a monster, all you have to do is howl.”

You frowned up at her. “Howl?”

“Monsters are afraid of wolves, see, and a wolf can never resist answering a howl.”

An idea sparks, breaching through the swarm of anxious thoughts buzzing like wasps in your mind. I trust you, Mom, you think before tipping your head back against the tree and letting out a howl.

The raspy, prolonged wail that tears itself out of your throat doesn’t match a single note of a wolf’s beautiful song, but you pray Shadow hears it and knows it’s your voice.

You strain your ears to hear his potential answer over the falling rain. You feel breathless and jittery as you wait, but you can’t tell if it’s your body gradually succumbing to hypothermia or if it’s your distressed nerves worsening the longer there is no returning howl.

Your head lolls against the tree trunk, aching muscles protesting against the heavy weight of your skull. The storm has warped your senses, making time seem to stretch on and on, dizzying your brain. You have no idea how long you’ve been out here in the woods, if it’s been mere minutes or over an hour. Maybe even two.

You drift in and out of consciousness, unable to summon the strength to stand despite knowing how vulnerable you are sitting here. You’ve lost feeling in your limbs, the blood frozen stiff, and each breath feels like you’re inhaling splinters.

Then, a low, guttural howl weaves through the trees, bringing the faintest of smiles to your blue lips. You don’t know how you know, if it’s instinct or some strange side effect of the bond you’ve developed with your wolf, but you’re certain with every fiber of your being it’s Shadow calling out to you.

I’m coming, he seems to say. Hold on.

And you wish you could answer. That you could keep your eyes open long enough to greet him. But the all-encompassing relief swimming through your veins makes it hard to focus and your eyelids are so heavy that it’s an impossible feat.

In the silence that follows as you drift off into blissful sleep, you could have sworn you heard a voice shouting your name. Felt warm hands tenderly press against your face.

“I’m here, little red. I’m here,” the voice said from somewhere beyond the darkness. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“On the ragged edge of the world I’ll roam, and the home of the wolf shall be my home” -- Robert Service

You wake up with a groan, opening your eyes to see a familiar ceiling with wooden beams overhead. The rest of your bedroom swims into focus, the moon casting just enough light through your windows for you to see.

Rubbing at your eyes, you notice your bed is covered with seemingly every blanket you and your father own. You stare at them, searching your foggy memory for an explanation—and then everything hits you at once. Sir Ballard killing a wolf, the run through the storm, collapsing in the woods.

Shadow’s howl.

Pushing the covers aside, you try to stand only to nearly fall on the floor instead, your legs forgetting their purpose of supporting you. You hiss a quiet curse and grab ahold of your nightstand to support yourself, accidentally knocking over a small object.

You grab it and hold it up to the moonlight for closer inspection, realizing it’s a metallic figurine of a wolf. Your brow creases as you run the pads of your fingers over the rough edges of the wolf’s fur, noticing the way its head is thrown back, forever howling a silent song.

How strange and remarkable, you think, deciding to take the figurine with you as you head downstairs to seek answers from your father.

You find him in the kitchen in the middle of preparing dinner. His shoulders sag with relief when he sees you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Thank God,” he murmurs. “You scared the hell out of me, kiddo.”

You hug him back just as tightly, a pang of guilt striking you in the chest. “Sorry,” you say.

“What were you thinking?” he asks, giving you a once-over like he can figure out the answer from looking at you. “If it wasn’t for Pero, I—”

“Pero?” you interrupt, heart jumping in your chest.

“He’s who found you,” your father says. “He forgot one of his hunting traps in the woods and went to retrieve it. Instead he found you, unconscious and absolutely drenched. He brought you home and told me to make sure you got warm. If not for him, you...” He shakes his head with a grimace. “I don’t want to even think about the outcome.”

Something about Pero’s explanation doesn’t ring true to you. He’s not the forgetful type, for starters. And ever since he started working at the forge you haven’t heard him mention hunting except when he bragged to William about once taking down a bear.

You recall William telling you at the tavern Pero often ventured into the woods during his lunch breaks. Maybe he had started hunting again during the weeks you’d spent avoiding him. But it’s strange you hadn’t encountered him even once along the trails. Just Shadow.

Just Shadow who showed up in your life the same time Pero moved into the village. Just Shadow who understood every word you said and had a raspy laugh like Pero’s when he teased you. Just Shadow who howled shortly before Pero found you in the rain.

Sir Ballard’s voice echoes in the back of your mind. “If their bite doesn’t kill you, it’ll turn you. That’s the curse of a werewolf.”

If a bite could turn someone…

“I crossed paths with one once. It gave me this.”

“I tried to hate wolves for what was done to me.”

“I have become something no one—not even my own mamá—could ever love.”

“There’s something you need to know about me. Something important.”

“Can’t a man be two things at once?”

…could a scar have the same effect?

You hold up the wolf figurine, the gears in your head turning, reconsidering every memory of Pero. “Did Pero leave this behind?”

Your father nods. “As a gift for you, yes. Is there...something going on between you two?”

Instead of answering, you slip your cloak over your pajamas and stick your feet into your boots, haphazardly tying the laces with trembling fingers. God, you’re a stupid idiot. Shadow is the furthest thing from a normal wolf. All his mannerisms and his fucking ability to understand human speech.

You’re a stupid, stupid girl so blinded by the desire to have a friend you failed to see the waving red flags.

Annoyance flares, burning hotly down your spine, and you stomp past your father towards the door as he asks, “Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

“I’ve got to talk to Pero,” you tell him, ignoring his worried protests about your health. “It can’t wait until morning. It’s important.”

The village is relatively quiet once the sun goes down with most people tucked away within their homes or enjoying a drink at the tavern. It should be calming, but instead the silence only adds fuel to your agitation, your skin bristling all the way to the blacksmith shop.

There’s a light on inside the forge indicating the presence of life. It might be William working late on an order, but deep down there’s a sense of certainty too intense and foreboding to ignore. The same certainty you’d felt that very first day your wolf had spied on you in the woods.

Pero’s waiting for you.

You stand in front of the door to the forge, knowing the second you confront him there’s no going back to how things were before. Whether he confirms your suspicions or calls your werewolf theory crazy, this conversation will have repercussions. You draw your shoulders back and shove your anxiety into a box to be dealt with later in the privacy of your room before pushing open the door, determined to get the answers you came for.

Pero stands at the sink in the far corner of the room with his back facing you, cleaning the rust off some of the forge’s tools with vinegar and water. He’s dressed in a plain, black henley with the sleeves rolled up his forearms—a sight that would normally distract you and send your heart into overdrive.

You shift in place, suddenly hesitant to draw closer despite determination still burning away inside your chest, demanding you stop wasting time and do something.

Pero beats you to the punch, glancing over his shoulder at you. “You should be resting, little red.”

His calmness is the last straw of your self-control.

“Shadow.”

Brown eyes flash amber-gold.

And your whole world tilts on its axis.

“You’re him,” you whisper, words cutting your tongue like thorns.

Pero is silent, but you see the tenseness in his shoulders as he turns around, the wariness in his gaze like you’re the wild animal in the room to be cautious of. You might have laughed if your chest didn’t hurt so much.

“Yes,” he says with an awkward shrug of his shoulders. “I’m your wolf.”

“Oh my God, werewolves are real.” You turn away, pressing your palms against your eyes. Embarrassment starts to bloom as you think of everything you’d told Shadow, all your secrets and dreams. Your crush on Pero. Oh God...

Your breath hitches. “That day in the woods before you came to the depot. You were watching me.” You whirl around, glaring at him through watery eyes. “Did you plan all this from the start? Am I just a worthless toy for you to play with until you get bored and find another girl to trick?”

“Stop it,” Pero snarls, crossing the room so fast you stumble backwards against the door. “You’re not a toy. You’re not worthless. You have become the center of my world.”

He looms over you, so close that it should be scary or intimidating. But his nearness only serves to soothe the raging fire inside of you, a security blanket you want to wrap around yourself.

You bite your lip, the pinch of pain grounding you back in the present moment. “What do you mean?”

“There are many myths about werewolves. Some are true, most are not. A bite or a wound inflicted by a werewolf will transform a person—I learned that last fall,” Pero says, gesturing towards his scar with a grimace. “But losing control of our shift doesn’t occur during full moons. It happens when we meet our mate.”

You’re struck silent, blood roaring in your ears and heart throbbing against your ribcage, thinking you might fall over. Mate. As in one half of a matched pair. As in The One all the main protagonists in fairy tales dream of finding.

As in...a dead rabbit being dropped at your feet.

“When I caught your scent, my wolf went crazy. I tried to move on, to ignore you, but once you saved me from that damn trap...I knew leaving would be impossible.” You remember Pero limping when he walked around the forge. Yet another glaring sign right in front of your face you’d missed.

“That first month, I didn’t want you to find out what I am. I thought the wolf would be satisfied just seeing you everyday when you came by the forge. And he was for a while…”

“What changed?”

“That day we were alone in the forge, you said I seemed like a man who concealed many secrets. For a second I let myself think about telling you, and I lost control. My wolf is, well, possessive of you. He recognizes you as his mate and he doesn’t care about subtlety. He wasn’t laughing at you, little red. He was laughing because he believed he beat me in claiming you.”

Your eyes narrow. “First of all, I’m not a trophy or a piece of meat. I’m a human being with my own autonomy.” Although you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the sound of being loved by someone so completely they knew you mind, body, and soul. Someone who would put you first and let the rest of the world burn to ash. Someone who was both light and dark with an inner monster who was tame beneath your touch.

You press an accusatory finger into his chest, finding petty satisfaction in watching him flinch. “Secondly, do you know what I’m hearing an awful lot of? The wolf wants me. Not you. Quit giving me mixed signals, Pero. I need to know how you feel about me.” You pause, insecurity creeping into your voice. “Do you feel anything about me? Or just the wolf?”

Pero’s hands grab your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but enough to pull you forward so your body is flush against his. His eyes have no trace of gold in them—entirely brown and so breathtakingly human.

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never want anyone more than I want you, little red.”

“Then why did you try to end things?” you ask, desperate to understand. “Why didn’t you reveal yourself when you brought me the rabbit? When I told you I loved you.”

“The only reason I tried to end things with you before they began was because I didn’t believe there was anyone who could love me as a wolf. But after you confessed,” he ducks his head, expression painfully vulnerable, “I knew I had to try harder as a man to earn your heart. I was going to tell you the truth about everything, I swear, but the storm...”

“What a foolish big bad wolf you are,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his, even when your noses brush. “You never had to earn my heart, Pero. Your appearance--wolf, man, any shape in-between--doesn’t matter. It was always going to be yours.”

Pero looks at you like you’ve just given him the moon and all the stars. He starts to lean in, only for you to stop him for a second time by holding your finger up against his lips. He blinks at you, a mixture of confusion and amusement shining in his eyes.

“There’s a lot we have to talk about still. About mates, and you being a werewolf, and our future. But…” You lower your hand to dig the wolf figurine out of the pocket of your cloak and hold it up for him to see. “This is me saying yes to figuring it all out together.”

He presses his forehead against yours, a pleased growl vibrating through his chest. “Would you say it, please? Say you’re mine.”

You grin and capture his mouth with yours, murmuring the words against his lips, “You’re mine.”

“Wolves and women wed for life.” ― George R.R. Martin

Stories start to circulate over the years about a quaint little village surrounded by a pine forest. What’s so special about it? A wolf calls the forest home, one with fur a unique shade of brown that looks red in the sunlight. And always by her side is her mate, a massive beast who’s as doting as he is protective.

Hunters know better than to mess with the pair after Sir Ballard meets his fatal end trying to prove mythical monsters exist.

“Look out for Little Red,” they start to warn one another. “Wherever she goes, her Shadow’s never far behind.”

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