#and care enough to want him to stay alive for you and the fry and that you don't want him to wither away into nothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fearthetallman · 7 months

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Krang Pie Chapter 6

Warnings: cooking krang, eating krang alive, gore/torture

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Chapter 6

Whenever Mikey got the chance, he would slip away to his room. There were so many techniques he wanted to try.

He tried boiling. Pretty bad, took away most of the flavor. He accidentally undercooked one and bit into it only to get mush, like biting into a rotten apple. He decided not to do boiling anymore.

He dug out their old pressure cooker. Not bad, and really brought out the sweet flavor. If he added enough other things, he was sure he could add layers of flavor to the meat. But it took forever so he didn’t use it too often.

Next was the air fryer. It was a lot faster than cooking it a pan but not quite as crisp.

He really wanted to try baking it but couldn’t figure out a way to do so without being caught. So instead, he kept bringing the ingredients to his room whenever he could scurry them away.

Milk, eggs and butter were things he dared not take back, however. If he placed them down on his floor, he might forget about them until they started to smell. The last thing he wanted was others coming into his room.

The krang was as stubborn as ever, still claiming its superiority even as Mikey ripped its limbs off. Not that he could complain. It made it easier to torture him.

When Mikey started experimenting with breading, he got the real flavor to unleash. Frying them up, you could hardly differentiate them from pork chops. Although they were a bit more tender and tasted a little too sweet.

He got so wrapped up in finding the perfect seasoning to go with the breading that he didn’t notice Raph until he was already in his room.

Paprika, onion powder, and a tin of salt fell from Mikey’s arms. Raph looked up, still halfway through a piece of meat. “Oh, sorry! Something smelled so good in here I couldn’t stop myself.”

His heart thundered in his head and his eyes swung to the closet. Closed. He had put the krang away because his squirming had gotten boring. So long as it didn’t say anything, he was safe.

“You know you’re supposed to knock before coming into someone’s room,” he said, voice strangled by anxiety. He knew he should feel annoyed and angry at Raph but all he could feel was terror. He needed to get him out of here.

“Sorry, I did but you didn’t answer.” He finished off the rest and licked his fingers. “This is really good, Mikey! What’s in this?”

Mikey inched around him, back to his closet in case anything moved in there. “Just some usual stuff. Garlic salt and all that.” He laughed but it sounded forced. His hand landed on the handle of the pan.

“You usually don’t cook in your room, so I was kind of surprised. You’ve been spending so much time in here, I just wanted to check up on you.”

He internally cursed himself. He should have been more careful. “You know how Donnie gets sometimes when I’m making something new. Complains about the smell. But I’m glad you like it!” He placed the cooling pan into Raph’s giant hands. “Here, why not eat the rest of it?” He pushed the snapping turtle towards the exit.

Giving Raph the rest of it was a risk, it’d be easier for him to figure it out with more, but he couldn’t let him stay here.

“Wow, really? Thanks!” He left docilely, not fighting Mikey shoving him out until they got to the doorway. He then paused, not moving no matter how much Mikey pushed. “But I think you should try cooking in the kitchen. They’re so good even Donnie would like them!”

Michaelangelo, like all his brothers, constantly craved external validation. Though he didn’t scramble for compliments like the rest of them, he would still latch onto a compliment like a life raft. And being told that Donnie, the Extremist of the Picky Eaters Club, would like his cooking was all that Mikey needed to lose all his common sense.

***

“They’re going to find out, you know,” the krang said as Mikey gathered his cooking supplies. Even though it had grown bigger, its voice still had a bit of a pitch, making everything it said sound ridiculous.

“Just like I found you before you could complete your evil plan?”

“You stepped on me by accident,” it growled.

“Accidentally on purpose.” He walked up to the cage, glowering down at the chewed-up wad of bubblegum inside. “Does it infuriate you? Knowing I’m such an ‘inferior’ creature and yet here I am feeding you to my family.”

It slithered closer, almost wrapping its tentacles around the bar before remembering. “Do you really think they’ll still love you if they find out?”

The question startled him. It didn’t sound like a question a krang would ask. They knew nothing of nor did they care about love. So as much as the question disturbed him, he brushed it off.

“It doesn’t matter because they won’t find out.” He shoved the krang back into the closet.

***

Mikey picked something that was familiar but still used what he needed. Pork pies. He’d gotten a few more tentacles, making sure to cut off the squiggly ends so no one could tell them apart from other meat. Dicing them up even more, he started making the dough.

This was something he had missed. Baking. The warmth of the dough in his hands as he kneaded it into shape. The flour under his fingernails. (The delicious torture) Spreading the butter over the pastry to ensure it was as tasty as possible. He just hoped everyone liked it.

He made six miniature pies in a muffin tin. Raph usually ate more than one. The time ticked by slower than usual as he waited for it to bake. Watch pot and all that blah blah blah but he couldn’t help it! Everyone else was in their rooms and he couldn’t stand going back to his room where that thing was. So he sat faithfully by the oven until the full 30 minutes was up.

When he took them out, they looked delicious. The smell wafting over was intoxicating. This may have been his best work yet. He set the table and thought about knocking on everyone's door but then he remembered the group chat.

I made supper everyone!!!

He sent lots of smiling emojis, unable to contain his excitement. Two people read the message. He sat down in his chair at the table, excitedly rocking side to side as he waited for them to come out. Five minutes go by. Then ten minutes. Then half an hour. He checked his phone but there are no new messages. He turned off the screen with a sigh, laying his head on the table.

By the time an hour goes by, he had just about given up when Raph walked in.

“Oh! Hey, Mikey. Raph was going to apologize for being late but er…” Raph looked at the empty table and tried to give Mikey a reassuring smile. “You know how we all just lose track of time sometimes!”

Mikey gave a tired smile back to him, more for his effort than any comfort Raph’s words brought. Raph sits down, excitedly scarfing down his pork pie.

“This tastes amazing!”

His words reignite some excitement into Mikey and he tries some of his own creation. It had cooled off, nowhere near as warm but still tasted good, the spice mixing well with the meat. A bit too sweet, still. Something he would need to adjust for next time. While he ate, Donnie stepped out, squinting at the lights.

“Hello, gentleman. What’s for dindin tonight?”

“I made pork pies!” He said, lifting the plate of his half-eaten food.

“Oh.” Donnie’s face soured. “I am not—”

Raph slammed his fist on the table and gives a “you better not say what you were originally thinking” look. Mikey pretended like he hadn’t seen that.

“I am not a fan of pies.” Donnie continued. “Especially not of the meat kind. I’ll just find something else and then go back to my lab.” He gave a guilty smile.

Mikey’s own face fell, even when Raph offered to eat Donnie’s for him. Although he waited until evening, Leo still never came out of his room. His pie grew cold.

***

Mikey returned to his room, defeated. There was a tangle of emotions in his gut. He shouldn’t get too upset. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault.

It was always his fault.

He grabbed his sketchbook and opened up a blank page. He picked up his pencil, but his hands were shaking so bad it slipped out of his fingers. The pencil fell and bounced on the ground, rolling under a wastebasket full of trash he hasn’t remembered to take out. He took a step forward to grab the pencil but his leg hit his skateboard. Pain radiated from his ankle and he had to suppress a swear. He kicked the skateboard but that just caused more pain and hurt and he’s so freaking stupid.

Over his heavy breathing, he heard something coming from the closet. A laugh. He stormed over and yanked open the doors. Sure enough, the krang was laughing at him. It laughed even harder when it sees his murderous glare.

“You’re just like your brother.” It said with a malicious grin. “I remember when your brother would make the same noises. He’d get so emotional, breathing so fast before he started crying. Ah, I can almost still hear it. Although he begged a lot more. I remember once he even begged me to kill him. What did I show him that time?” The krang paused, putting a tentacle to its chin. “Now I remember. I had just finished ripping off your shell in front of him. Turtles are a lot more fun than regular humans. More of a crunch.”

It laughed hysterically. Mikey wasn’t really in control. His hands just moved automatically.

It was such a satisfying crunch.

His nails dug into the squishy, wet flesh of the krang. The main body this time, reaching into a chunk of its face. It didn’t give easily, the spam-like body resisting being separated from itself. The flesh finally gave way with a wet gush, fluids dripping from the wound and strings of tendon still hanging on like the strings he’d peel off from an orange.

The creature screamed but he barely registered it, only taking the horrified expression it slowly morphed into after laughing about torturing his brother. It didn’t taste as sweet as he’d grown used to. This had more of a watered-down taste, so much gushing out that it dribbled down his chin. It was rubbery and difficult to chew but he didn’t stop, only feeling a sense of relief and release when he swallowed. His tongue ran over the sides of his mouth, catching the bitter juice that had been left behind.

“You’re a monster!” It screeched. “The krang is the epitome of perfection! You should be swearing loyalty to us, you inferior life forms. To even think of hurting us is—”

His hands tighten around the cage, his hands stinging a bit from the anti-krang still on the bars. “Shut up before I tear off another chunk of you.”

Epitome of perfection his shell. If the krang were so smart then it wouldn’t have been caught by him. The krang needed a lesson in humility and he was more than happy to be the teacher. He pulled out the kitchen knife.

“How fast can you regenerate?” Light glinted off the cared for blade, making it feel like a shiny new toy.

“No. You can’t keep doing this.” It crawled back as far as it could in the cage.

“How?” He picked up the cage and threw it against the wall, making a thud, rattling the krang inside. “Fast?”

“I can’t keep up with it. You’re taking too much!” It pleaded, sounding very pathetic.

Just what he wanted to hear. He cut off three more. He had a lot of work to do.

[next]

#rottmnt krang #krang pie #save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fic #save rottmnt #rottmnt #krang #rise krang #gee mikey sure did a turnaround into a sadist #I wonder what could have made that change in him

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pricemarshfield · 7 months

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ahh ahh ah general 1, 6; story specific 2, 12; romance 1 for tav!!! <3

this got. unimaginably long. i am so sorry. two of these questions have answers longer than three paragraphs. i’m sooo normal about bg3 why do you ask?

1. Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

the crash site! you can find her interrogating that trapped mind flayer to no avail, until she realizes it’s no use and uses lightning to fry the thing alive. at that point the player can interject (either complimenting her magic, condemning her brutality, or just sitting silently and watching). she startles no matter what, and then BAM tadpole moment. once that passes and she ascertains you’re not responsible for the tadpole, she offers to join you, saying she’s as much a healer as she is a fighter and could be great help, implying she’s a cleric of a deity of nature. besides, best to stick together in such times, no? and there’s a passive insight check that, if passed, will have the narrator reveal she is being fully genuine in her offer, but that she isn’t being honest about what she is. which leads nicely into:

6. Do they have any secrets that can be revealed? What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

a few, actually! one can be talked out of her in your first non-recruitment conversation with a high enough persuasion check, which is what deity she worships: talos. that guy wants the world destroyed! what the hell tav! regardless of if the player expresses disgust or approval, she talks with great reverence about the beauty of a storm, about how talos may be one of the tempest’s deities and she may be loyally his but the storm bends for no one and neither does she. (you can also flirt with her here with an “really? for no one? that’s disappointing”, and if you have high enough approval she’ll flirt back. with low approval she’ll scoff and say she’s had better offers from drunken sailors.)

the second is that she’s not NEAR as altruistic as she fronts. the player will find this out if they pay attention to her approvals: for all she’ll verbally condemn cruelty or aggressive acts, she often has no approval change whatsoever or even approves, and always disapproves at refusing money for heroic deeds. you can also ask her about this, but she won’t say anything with low approval UNLESS:

you side with the goblins. she will participate, though she doesn’t approve, and will question your motivations at the party. if you try to threaten her into staying or appeal to your friendship, she’ll laugh and say she really doesn’t care. with high approval, she’ll say she’s surprised that you didn’t realize that already. with low approval, she’ll sigh and say that it’s hardly like she was even trying to hide it, and it’s disappointing that you’re really as stupid as you seem.

no matter what, she’ll drop the righteous holy knight façade by act 2, because at that point she trusts you’ll not kill her for being kinda evil, if only because you need each other.

2. How do they advise the player character on Raphael?

immediate disapproval for taking any of his deals, even if you later tell her you’re not planning on following through. if you’ve managed to get her to drop the holy knight shtick, she’ll add that it’s not that she’s opposed to him on the basis of him being fiendish so much as failing to outline the terms (or the terms being horrid if you say you’ll give up your soul. i actually haven’t clicked that dialogue option does the game just end??)

HOWEVER. in act 3 if you break into the house of hope with her in the party she’ll complain and say that this is stupid. with high approval, she’s just whining and will continue the whole quest without issue. with low approval, there’ll be a roll to convince her to come with UNLESS you have lae’zel, shadowheart, or unascended astarion in the party, in which case they’ll be able to talk her into it with no roll necessary (lae’zel entreating her help on the orphic hammer to free her from/endear her to vlaakith, shadowheart jokingly sighing and saying it’s no surprise a cleric of shar/selûne is braver than a cleric of talos, astarion just egging her on with “you literally cannot stand that man, you’re going to let us ruin his day while you stay behind?”).

if you go to the house of hope and click on “a tour of tempest”, she’ll react to it, and will just “hm. interesting.” you can roll insight to see what she’s thinking. if you fail, it’s a good book! if you pass, she’s Genuinely taken aback that this is something raphael has.

if you have low approval + clicked the book, then when raphael starts singing, tav will be like okay. you know what. i cannot fucking stand [the player character]’s ass and while i DO not trust you, if you help with my tadpole i’ll help you kill them. HIGH dc persuasion or intimidation check to keep her in the party at this point; if failed, she’ll fight alongside raphael and Bam. no more tav 😔 if you bring her back vis withers after this she will scream at the top of her lungs and just try and kill you about it

12. Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin? How is Orin's deception revealed? How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?

HMMM. yeah sure. i think orin-pretending-to-be-tav threatens yenna like orin-as-lae’zel does (very unlike her, she approves of helping yenna and is generally protective when it comes to children). if you save her, it preempts the above leaving the party for raphael thing even with low approval.

1. Is your Tav a romanceable character? Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

YEAH ♥️ i honestly don’t think there’d be any specific requirements beyond a general approval cap. beyond what i’ve talked about before, approval is generally netted by being curious about the world and its magic, respecting her softer side/love of art and adventure (player character!tav is a bard multiclass ♥️ ), and not trying to push her either towards blind faith in or completely breaking from her god, respecting the weird tightrope she’s chosen to walk. if she flirts with you at the tiefling party and you turn her down, she and lae’zel will hook up (and she’ll be very annoyed the next morning if you sleep with lae’zel, muttering something about everyone else in camp having too much baggage for what she’s looking for atm).

#i like her a lot. is the thing #oc: tav khoury #ask #asterien #so excited to see what you said for emrys now that ive finished this essay of an answer oh my god

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logbook99 · 2 months

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Dinner.

It's strange seeing her again, alive and well. Elizabeth is overflowing with energy even as she brushes her onions off her food to take a bite. Her head turns his way - green on blue.

"What? You know I hate Onions! Why didn't you tell Daddy?" she pokes his arm accusingly, to which he rolls his eyes. "I'm not sure why you'd think I'd care enough to remind him; he probably just forgot anyway." Said with a dismissive shrug, taking his bag and setting himself into a chair at the dining table. Of course, they fight right away. They usually did, after all.

Elizabeth sits beside him, the same spot she'd sit in back in his life. Always between him and their dad, Who is making his way up the staircase, calling Evan to eat. It's muffled, but a young brunette in a grey and black striped shirt eventually comes down, rubbing his eyes as if he'd just woke up. Evan.

A searing pain surges through Michael's head at the sight of the young boy making his way toward the table, sitting across from himself. He must look stupid to Elizabeth with how she lets out a 'pfft' at his facial reaction. His hand was lifting to grasp his forehead. "What's wrong, a door bash your mask into your head again?" Elizabeth teases him with a wave of her fry. "Oh, shut up. I got a headache from looking at your ugly mug." Michael snarks back, keeping his eyes on the still-awakening younger brother as he fumbles open the Happy Meal of his own. Sleepy eyes finally look from the food in the box to see Michael staring him down. "You're not getting my fries." Evan says with his usual rasp, tugging his food toward himself. "You always want my fries." he said with a frown.

"Your- You think- Dumbass, I was worried about you. I heard you got sick at the diner and ate too fast again, huh? Ma always told you to slow down." Michael grabs his soda and takes a deep sip. This is not a dream anymore. Or at least, It's got to be some simulation. But he's still determining what it is, regardless of what it could be. Why is this happening at all? He'll think more about it later. For now? He'll get to eat his Big Mac. This was when food was juicy, too, not dry meat. Evan's frown stayed on his lips as he took his food out to eat. It's silent for a few minutes. Just awkward chewing and sipping until William enters the room again with a woman with Identical red curls like Elizabeth.

Mom. It's her, she's still here. She sits beside Evan and lovingly strokes his head as she leans over and kisses his cheek. "How's my baby doing? You've been asleep since you got home." Evan swallows his mouthful to smile at her. "I'm OK. I feel a lot better now." Her focus is now on Elizabeth and Michael. Elizabeth is slowly drinking her drink as Michael's eyes never leave his brother and mother. William sits at the 'head' of the table and opens his bag, sliding his wife the carton of fries, which she takes and begins to chew away. "So, Michael, any fun things to report from the diner today?"

“Uh, well. I spent some time with Charlie and played some games. Ms.Pac-man was fun!” He needs to sound like he had a good day, and honestly? He did. Minus the few weird things at the diner with Fritz, he had fun with Charlie and... Michael gathers his food, wraps whatever leftovers he had, and goes to the fridge, placing it away and watching as Elizabeth finishes her own and hugging their father.

"That's great, love! I'm always happy to hear you had a good time." She's genuine in her tone, too; she's happy he had fun. Mike looks back towards his sister and father, seeing their love and adoration bouncing off both of them; it's a welcome sight despite how much he's not used to seeing it. Evan asks their mother why she didn't get anything to eat, and she replies that she's trying to be careful, but some fries wouldn't hurt. Michael will then begin up the stairs to his bedroom and wish them all a good night.

Elizabeth flies up past him, shouting. “I CALL FIRST SHOWER!“ gets an eye-roll from the eldest.

She was always so full of life, quite the ball of energy, and quick to anger, admittedly like himself. And she's gone. Well, the one he knew. This one is here and well, and Evan? Gosh, he seems less shy than the one he knew. He used to quake at the sight of Michael; maybe he hadn't done anything yet. His bullying isn't as terrible here? He hopes. He hoped this Michael didn't fuck anything up if there was a Michael.

Did he become him? Did he take his place? Deep in this thought, he feels frozen at the top step as he looks up toward the family photos on the walls.

A picture of the whole family at what looks like a park. Lizzie held Evan's hand tight and smiled bright and wide, whereas Evan looked pained and as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. Their mother stood behind them with a sweet grin to the camera, her long red curls woven into one large braid that hung over her shoulder. You can't see her eyes as she's wearing sunglasses, but her pink lips show she did wear makeup to this event. She's beautiful. He then sees himself in his father's arms, Michael holding a Coke can in one hand and William holding his beer can in another.

They're happy. Happy here.

Another photo, him and Charlie, hip to hip. It couldn't be younger than 6; they both hold different colored kites. Hers is Green with white stars drawn on. The one Michael had was Red with Yellow lightning bolts. He looks closer at the photo and notices the Springbonnie suit in the distance, holding balloons; the grass they stand on must be the same beside the Diner.

Michael's done, he thinks, for now. He'll finally budge, moving out of his spot on the stairs and finally going to what seems to be his room - the door held a sign saying 'NO LIZZIES ALLOWED,' had to be his.

Inside, he enters and is immediately greeted with excited barking and twirling of a body - a Doberman. A Doberman dog is in his room? It'll jump up at him, pawing and licking. He's never had a pet before. He has no idea how to react but feels it come out - laughter. Happiness slips out as he pets the dog and kneels to rub the canine's ears, face, neck, and stomach. This dog seems to love him as its tail is beating the shit out of the room's floor rug.

"Cool it! Hey! calm down, calm down!" Between laughter, he sees the collar's nametag it wore - 'Beck.' "Beck! Come on, boy!"

Beck rolls this way and that before getting up and prancing his way to Michael's messy bed and hopping atop. The dog lies down and is seemingly waiting for something. Michael needs clarification, so he searches this space. Posters of plenty of bands from the 70s and 80s in this room, clothes scattered here and there, as well as magazines. Oh - past some knick-knacks, Mike sees a food bowl; he searches about and finds a bag of dog food propped up against his closet door. So Beck is solely his? He finds a cup inside the bag and uses that to fill Beck's bowl; the noise gets Beck's attention, and he leads the dog to eat. Mike watched Beck crunch away for a few minutes, petting him as well. He wondered what else was different. He ate food, talked with various people, helped work on Marionette, and now fed a dog that is very much implied to be his own. Mike tugged his tank over his head and discarded it on the ground as he flopped onto his bed, sighing as he nestled into his pillow. This isn't a dream. But, maybe he could have one that could help. And so, his eyes shut.

#fnaf fanfic #fnaf #michael afton #elizabeth afton #mrs afton #evan afton

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kjmsupremacist · 2 years

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The Bucket List (doyoung/taeyong)

Doyoung’s always been a bit depressed, but this last year has really put him through the wringer and he’s been pretty suicidal. So his therapist cuts him a deal. Make a bucket list. A real, actual bucket list, of all the things he wants to experience, and then do everything on that list. If, at the end of the list, he still wants to kill himself, then they’ll go from there. His therapist has a feeling that won’t be the case. Doyoung would beg to differ, but he plays along anyway. And then he meets Taeyong, who finds out about the bucket list and makes it his mission to help Doyoung fall in love with being alive again.

Chapter 7: List Item Six: Doyoung Watches the Sky Break Open | prev next mlist

Characters: Doyoung, Taeyong; misc family members

Genre: heavy angst, eventual romance, slow burn, hurt/comfort, college!au

Pairing: Doyoung/Taeyong

Warnings: detailed discussions of suicide, depression, self harm, mental illness; homophobia, bullying, family dysfunction. heavy heavy shit.

Rating: Teen & Up

Length: 5.1k

This work is very heavy, and potentially triggering. There are serious, lengthy, and often detailed discussions of bullying, homophobia, mental illness, self-harm, and suicide. Please proceed with caution.

taglist: @pastelsicheng @doiefy @lebrookestore

you can listen to the official playlist here!

Taeyong invites Doyoung over for the thunderstorm. His mom cooks them dinner while they watch out the windows as the world turns greener and greener, clouds churning thick overhead. Taeyong’s dad and sister are playing chess at the table. Ruby is making the rounds, seeking affection from anyone who has a free hand.

And it’s good. Doyoung’s chest feels warm, for the first time in—maybe forever. He and Taeyong are playing cards, and the house smells like frying garlic.

Maybe Doyoung doesn’t ever have to tell Taeyong everything. Maybe he can just bury it, and move on like that. Maybe this can be enough—a house that feels like home, and Taeyong smiling at him as he lays down a winning hand in a neat fan between them. Doyoung doesn’t even mind that he’s lost every round.

Dinner is relaxed and easy. It’s a simple meal—just rice and tofu stew with some meat on the side—and Taeyong’s mother insists on giving Doyoung the first helping.

“When do you head back to school, Doyoung?” Taeyong’s father asks.

“Couple of weeks,” Doyoung says.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

Doyoung’s not sure how to answer. His sadness still sits like a stone in his stomach. He’s not sure if he will go back—or if he does, what he’ll do when he gets there. He kind of wants to stay in today, forever. He’d be okay with living, he thinks, if he could do that.

“Uh,” he says. “Kind of? It’ll suck to have Taeyong so far away, though.”

“I’ll be here for break,” Taeyong says. “Will you?”

“I think so,” Doyoung says. “But still.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong agrees. “Maybe it’s better, though. Our time together will never be sullied by the horrors of school.”

Everyone laughs softly. “Is it all horror?” Taeyong’s sister asks. “I dunno, college has been fun for me.”

“That’s because you’re smarter than me,” Taeyong says. “It’s easy for you.”

“Hey,” Taeyong’s mom says. “It’s starting to rain, you boys better finish up and get out there.”

“Oh, fuck,” Taeyong says, scooping a huge mouthful of rice into his mouth. “C’mon,” he says to Doyoung, barely coherent through his food. Doyoung can’t reply; he’s busy chugging his soup.

They put on flip flops, shorts, and old t-shirts, and then sprint out into the backyard, careful to close the door behind them as fast as they can so the rain doesn’t get in the house.

Taeyong tilts his head back, opening his mouth to catch the rain, and Doyoung realizes he’s laughing; he can barely hear it over the sound of the storm. They see a flash of lightning; both of them yelp in delight, and then wait a few long seconds for the thunder.

Doyoung runs his hands through his hair, pushing the water off his face and drawing in a huge breath. The air is earthy and damp.

Taeyong pushes him lightly with a flat palm, giggling out, “Tag!“ before sprinting across the yard.

Doyoung springs into action, letting out a short indignant yell and chasing after him, almost slipping in the mud forming beneath his feet. The rain pelts down around them as Doyoung chases Taeyong in circles around the yard, whooping out laughter as he tags him back and immediately switches direction, exhilaration making his heart pound.

Lightning flashes, and it feels like a switch flips inside Doyoung. Dread washes over him, then shame that comes with faint nausea. He stumbles, chest tight, and Taeyong almost runs straight into him. He barely feels it, too focused on trying to breathe, trying to think about anything but that, anything—

“Ta—hey, are you okay?” Taeyong freezes, hand on Doyoung’s back, as Doyoung curls into himself, as his laughter turns into sobbing, as he drops into a crouch. Taeyong drops with him, shielding him from view of the back door.

Taeyong lets Doyoung cry, rubbing his back silently. After a few moments, when Doyoung’s not heaving so bad, he speaks up. “Doyoung-ah,” he says softly. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

Doyoung shakes his head, pressing his lips together. But Taeyong’s hand is warm, his voice gentle, and something inside Doyoung cracks. What does it matter? He’ll be gone soon, anyway, because this little experiment didn’t work, because nothing is ever going to work, because things like this are always too big to keep secret and always too big to get over, and Doyoung is always going to feel like this. No matter what. No matter who tries to save him.

And besides, Doyoung can’t stand lying to him anymore. Taeyong, of all people, deserves to know the truth.

“It was my fault,” Doyoung says quietly, breath shaking through the tears. “Everyone says it wasn’t, but I should’ve—I should’ve known, I shouldn’t have stayed in my room when he left, I should’ve told him I loved him.” Taeyong is silent, waiting. “I had a brother, Taeyong. I had a big brother, and he killed himself, and it was my fault.”

“Oh.” Taeyong is quiet for a minute; Doyoung can’t blame him for being shocked. “How did it happen?” he finally asks. His voice is still gentle, hand still warm. He’s not asking because he wants to know. He’s asking because he knows Doyoung needs to tell him.

Doyoung sits. He hardly feels the wet of the grass beneath him; his pants were soaked through long ago, seconds after they first stepped outside. “He always went back to school earlier. He had cross country. We were fighting that summer, fighting really bad, and so when he left for school I didn’t come down to say goodbye.

“A week later, he was dead.” Doyoung looks up at Taeyong. “He hanged himself from the rafters in the attic of one of his friends’ frats. They didn’t find him for a whole day. He was alone that whole time. And I should’ve known. I should’ve—he wasn’t himself that summer. He was less, it was like he’d given up. I knew his grades were slipping, I knew he was stressed, I knew he wasn’t happy. I shouldn’t have fought with him.” He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “And I’m never going to be able to move on because I fucking see his ghost every time I look in the mirror and I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss him and how I fucking hate him, and I hate myself and I want it all to be over, because I can’t be happy, because every time I start to feel better I end up feeling worse! How can I be happy when he was perfect and he couldn’t even be happy, how dare I be happy when I’m my parents’ walking reminder of what happened and what we lost every single fucking day—”

Taeyong is kneeling; he wraps his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, covering his body with his own. “It wasn’t your fault,” he murmurs. “How could it be your fault?” Doyoung just shakes his head. “Doyoung, you don’t owe it to him—or anybody else—to be unhappy for the rest of your life.”

Doyoung wrenches away, livid. “Don’t you dare say he wouldn’t want me to be, you didn’t know him, you never knew him! I knew him better than anybody, even our parents, and I’m sick and tired of people telling me what he wouldn’t have wanted when they didn’t fucking know him! I fucking knew him, that’s why I should’ve known. I’m sick of being told that time will heal it and I’m sick of being congratulated for being so strong and resilient! I don’t want to be strong and resilient, I don’t want to have to be, I just want to be happy without feeling like shit for it, but I don’t know how and I don’t think I ever will!”

He pauses for breath, chest heaving, waiting for Taeyong to pull away, to wither down and whisper an apology and leave him. Good, he thinks. That way he won’t miss me. He’ll know what kind of miserable fucking person I am, and he won’t miss me when I’m gone.

But Taeyong doesn’t do that, because of course he doesn’t, because he’s Taeyong and he’ll keep on caring if it kills him. “Doyoung,” he says, reaching a hand out, palm-up, an offering. “I wasn’t gonna say that. You’re right, I didn’t know him.” He shrugs. “I have no idea what he would or wouldn’t have wanted. You shouldn’t be happy for his sake. What good will that do? He’s dead.” Taeyong tilts his head. “Be happy because you want to be.”

Somehow, this makes Doyoung crumble. He curls over his knees and sobs, and Taeyong’s arms are around him again, warm and safe. He thinks Taeyong’s saying it’s okay, but he can’t hear him over the sound of his own crying and the rain still pouring down around them.

“I’m so tired,” he manages after a minute. “I’m so tired, Taeyong, I’m tired, and I’m at the end of my fucking rope, the rope that you gave me, and—” He raises his head, takes hold of one of Taeyong’s forearms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “You tried so hard, and—”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Taeyong interrupts, shaking his head. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You don’t have to stay for me, okay? I’m not going to tell you to stay, that’s not my decision to make. It’s yours, and if you want to go, that’s okay.” He leans close, knocks their foreheads together, wet hair to wet hair. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Doyoung closes his eyes, silent sobs still wracking his body. Taeyong doesn’t pull away. “It’s okay. It’s been difficult for you, and you tried really hard. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung says anyway. “I’m still sorry.”

Somehow, Taeyong gets them on their feet. Somehow, he brings them inside, offers a quick explanation to his parents. Somehow, he takes Doyoung into the bathroom. Somehow, he finds a towel, dries him off, runs him a hot shower. Somehow, Doyoung’s pajamas, packed this morning without any knowledge of what the day would bring, are waiting for him when he’s done. Somehow, Taeyong’s room is already dimly lit and ready for sleep, pillows for both of them and a duvet pushed back.

Doyoung sits on the bed, toweling off his hair, until Taeyong comes in from his shower, holding two mugs of tea.

“It’s chamomile,” is all he says when he hands one to Doyoung. “I added extra honey.”

“Thank you,” Doyoung says.

“Drink it and then sleep,” Taeyong tells him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright? And don’t say sorry,” he adds before Doyoung can even open his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize to me. Not about things like this. Never about things like this. You’re here because I want you here.”

“Thank you,” Doyoung repeats instead, taking a sip of the tea.

“Of course,” Taeyong replies.

; ; ;

When Doyoung wakes, he feels heavy. Maybe it’s from the thorough drenching the evening before, but his limbs feel impossible to move out of the comfort of the bed.

But Taeyong isn’t beside him, and he smells breakfast faintly. He’s a guest here, anyway. He wouldn’t want to overstay his welcome.

So he swings his legs over the side of the bed, pushing the covers back, and slips onto the floor. Warm light, muted by Taeyong’s old curtains, has found its way into the room. There’s no sign of the clouds from yesterday; today will be bright and scorching in the wake of the storm. The light does little to comfort Doyoung, but it does do a little.

He makes his way into the kitchen, where Taeyong is frying bacon. “Good morning,” he ventures, and finds his voice raw.

Taeyong looks up. “Morning,” he says softly. “They’re out—my parents and sister. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Doyoung says, and lets Taeyong bring him a cup.

They’re silent as Taeyong finishes making their breakfasts, Doyoung at the table letting his coffee cool between his hands. They’re silent as Taeyong brings their plates over, silent as they take their first bites.

“So…” Taeyong finally says, watching Doyoung push his eggs around with his fork. “That’s it, right? You go back to your therapist and tell her it didn’t work?”

Doyoung thinks about the list, the full list. He thinks about the real last item. Fall in love? He thinks about Taeyong’s hands warm on his back. He thinks about Taeyong quizzing him on the stars, Taeyong laughing out at the open sea. Taeyong handing him a mug of tea just the night before. Taeyong telling him he’s a good person. Taeyong telling him he doesn’t have to stay.

“Yeah,” he says, belatedly. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Taeyong nods slowly, pauses a beat before continuing. “Is it okay if I ask?” he says, hesitant. “About your brother?”

“Sure,” Doyoung agrees, and then stuffs a bite of eggs in his mouth before he can say anything else.

“What was his name?” Taeyong asks.

Doyoung blinks. It’s such a simple question. There’s so much Taeyong doesn’t know about him because he knew if he started talking about it, everything would change. It kept him safe, but now there’s a huge hole in his relationship with Taeyong—Taeyong, who’s supposed to be his closest friend.

“Donghyun,” Doyoung says, “but just like me, no one ever called him that. He went by Gongmyung instead. The only people that ever used our real names other than our mother were us—me and him, when we were alone.” Doyoung keeps his eyes fixed on his plate.

“How’d he get that name?” Taeyong asks evenly.

“I don’t even remember,” Doyoung says. “It was when we were really young, like middle school or something. His friends started calling him Gongmyung, and it stuck. When he got to college, people were surprised to find out his real name.” He falters. “Sometimes, I wondered if he asked his friends to call him that to distance himself from me.”

“Why would you think that?” Taeyong’s tone is half curiosity, half sympathy.

“I was always the odd one out,” Doyoung says. “He… he tried, but he was only two years older than me. At home, it was fine, mostly, but I always embarrassed him. He wasn’t like me, he…” He trails off, not really sure if he should finish the sentence. Why bother Taeyong with it?

But Taeyong presses, “What was he like?”

Doyoung takes a deep breath, thinking about how to explain. How do you describe a person so close and so important, to someone who can never meet them? “When our parents made us split treats, he would always give me the bigger piece,” he says finally. “He was the one who picked out my splinters, you know. When we got older, he would drink with me when we weren’t supposed to and stay up late with me when I was sad. He was… the only person who said, ‘I love you,’ to me and I felt like they would always mean it. And he was so smart, and so popular. He was perfect.” Doyoung stares at his watery reflection in his coffee cup. “I always thought, you know, I’d probably never live up to him. And…” He presses his lips together. “And now I know I never will.

“That’s the thing, he was always better than me. He got good grades, he was sociable, kind; fucking normal. He’d always gotten along with his classmates. His teachers loved him. He was intelligent and he did sports and he played, like, three instruments, and he was everything I wasn’t.” Doyoung draws his lower lip into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth until it hurts. “He was a good big brother. He took care of me, quietly. And still I resented him because I knew my parents wanted me to be like him and I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. And now he’s gone, and I know in the back of their minds somewhere, they wish it had been me and not him, and I can’t really blame them because they’re right. It should’ve been me. I wish it had been.”

He shakes himself. “And I dunno, my parents… they’re never going to recover from it, not really. I have spent so much of my time promising them that it wasn’t because of the way they raised us—pushing us to excel, punishing us when we couldn’t achieve perfection—even though it did cause it, kind of, only that’s not fair; only it didn’t, really; only how can I say that to them, you know? What good would it do? It wouldn’t bring him back.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung,” Taeyong says gently.

Doyoung tears his gaze up, trying to meet Taeyong’s eyes, trying to keep steady. “Next week it’ll be one year. One year without him, and I’m so fucking angry because everything has changed since that day and there’s no going back. My parents—my parents can barely even look at me still, and I have to do everything alone. I have to do it alone, and it’s not fair.”

Taeyong doesn’t say anything, just reaches out across the table and runs his thumb over Doyoung’s knuckles, a silent comfort, a silent invitation to keep going. Doyoung swallows really hard, blinking the tears back. He doesn’t want to cry anymore. “He was supposed to graduate last May. He was supposed to graduate and go to law school. And now when I graduate, I’ll be a year older than he was when he died. Almost two years. And I don’t—I don’t want to be, I don’t want to do it without him. I miss him.” The tears threaten again, along with a sick push at the back of Doyoung’s throat. “I really miss him, and it’s all I can ever think, all I can ever say. I still can’t believe I’ll never see him again. Some days—”

He takes another deep breath. “Some days I’ll dream about him and it’s like my mind is trying to fix the grief and it’s so fucking real, and we talk and laugh like we did when we were kids, and we play his favorite video game or something and then I wake up and realize it wasn’t real, and it’s the cruelest thing in a whole world because I miss him so much it gives me a fucking stomachache.”

“Of course you do,” Taeyong says.

“And the worst part is, this horrible kind of anger has found its way into the grief.” Doyoung frowns at the table. “I was angry at him when he left for school and angry at him after I found out he died. I was angry at him for being better than me at everything, even at being fucking depressed, and I was angry at him for leaving me behind to deal with it alone. And I think that’s the real reason I’m going to go to hell, because how dare I? I wish—“ A tear slips through; Doyoung uses the hand not currently being held hostage by Taeyong to swipe it away. “I wish I was better. I wish I had done something, I wish I had known. I would’ve—I would’ve stopped him, I dunno. I would’ve stopped him, or I would’ve held his hand and hanged myself with him. Either way things would be different. But I didn’t, and now I’m here. And I think I’m going to be here forever. And I’ve just kind of been living because nothing mattered anyway, but I don’t know how much longer I can do that.”

Taeyong is silent for a moment. Doyoung half expects him to say something like, but if you had killed yourself, then we would’ve never met, but he doesn’t. He just kind of nods for a few seconds. “I really am so sorry, Doyoung,” he says finally. “I’m so sorry for your loss. There is absolutely nothing I can say that will comfort you. I’m trying anyway. It’s not fair, none of it.”

“I know,” Doyoung says. “It’s enough that you’re trying.” He nudges Taeyong’s hand. “I meant it, yesterday. I am sorry about all of this. I should’ve never—I should’ve never let you come along. You didn’t know that it was this serious, you didn’t know what you were signing up for. I just—I didn’t know how to talk about it. I mean, how do you bring that up? It’s been a year, and I still don’t know. So I just… didn’t. And now…”

“I meant it too, yesterday,” Taeyong says quickly. “You don’t have to stay for me. I understand. And you’re not allowed to be sorry to me. I am so glad I met you, Doyoung, I don’t care for how long, or under what circumstances. Don’t you dare apologize for letting me in.” He squeezes Doyoung’s hand once and then lets go. “Eat your breakfast. It’s getting cold.”

Doyoung eats quietly, not sure how to feel. As they’re finishing up, Taeyong pauses, hands hovering over their plates. “Hey,” he says. “Will you just promise me something?”

“Maybe,” Doyoung says dubiously.

This gets him a short, humorless laugh. “Before you do it,” Taeyong says, “will you say goodbye? Just so I know. I won’t try to stop you or anything. Just a text or something.”

That’s easy enough. “Oh, sure,” Doyoung agrees. “I mean, of course I will.”

They put the dishes in the sink, and Taeyong helps Doyoung find his shoes. Taeyong hovers on the porch as Doyoung ties his shoelaces.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong says as he’s straightening. “I’m not saying I won’t stop you because I don’t care.”

“I know,” Doyoung says, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “You care about everything.”

“I mean, yeah, but…” Taeyong’s tone is so earnest, it sends a shock through Doyoung’s whole body. “But I care about you,” Taeyong says firmly. “I won’t stop you because it’s your choice. But I’m also selfish, and—” He pauses, then rushes on, “And I’d like it if you stayed. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” Doyoung manages, and then flees down the steps to his car. He gives Taeyong an awkward half-wave before ducking inside, and pulls out onto the street as fast as he can, so Taeyong can’t see that he’s crying.

There’s a sort of odd calm that comes with a breakdown. Doyoung pulls over two blocks away and weeps into his steering wheel, but though he’s sobbing, his mind is actually pretty quiet. Inside, he’s taking stock, running over the conversations he’s had and all the things he said to Taeyong. It’s the most honest he’s been with anyone, except maybe his brother.

He wipes tears off of his cheeks, taking shuddering breath after shuddering breath. It’s clear, suddenly. He knows what he’s going to do.

; ; ;

“So,” Dr. Cha says, crossing one leg over the other and balancing her clipboard on her knee. “You finished the list.”

“Yes,” Doyoung says.

“Still want to die?” she asks—calm, neutral. She’s not trying to incite anything, just getting a temperature check.

The question makes Doyoung prickle, anyway. He shifts in his seat, giving Dr. Cha an almost wry look. “No,” he admits, and she grins.

“You can say it, I was right,” she says.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna make me take it back out of spite.”

“Too late,” Dr. Cha says, still grinning. “You already said it.” She taps her clipboard with the butt of her pen. “I already wrote it down.” But then her smile turns softer. “Seriously, though, Doyoung. I’m glad to hear it.” Doyoung inclines his head, now slightly embarrassed. “What changed?”

Doyoung stares at his hands for a second, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the list. It’s crumpled and faded now, but the writing is still clear. He lays it flat on the table between them, and points to the last item, still unchecked. Fall in love?

“I completed it, that wasn’t a lie. But I’m afraid to say so because I’m worried I’m just latching onto him because he’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” He leans back, scratching his head. “And it’s not that I think he can fix me or something, it’s just that he… made me want to get better. Because—because I think if I died, I would miss him.” Tears blur Doyoung’s vision unexpectedly. He pushes on anyway. “And his silly dog, and his cool older sister, and his parents. And I’d miss doing things with him, and I’d miss laughing at his texts, and I’d miss waking up knowing that he’s out here, somewhere. Waiting for me.”

Dr. Cha’s smile grows. “You know,” she says, “that’s not a bad place to start.”

Doyoung nods, looking back at the list. “I want to tell him how I feel,” he says, blinking his tears away, “but I want to get better first, because that’s something I need to do alone, and I can’t do it if I’m worrying about someone else. Plus I don’t want him to feel obligated to accept me just because I have The Big Sad, you know.”

“That’s fair,” Dr. Cha agrees. “And probably wise.”

Doyoung nods again, reaching out for the list and folding it twice before sticking it back in his pocket. “So how do I do that? Get better?”

Dr. Cha thinks about it for a second. “Okay, let’s start here,” she says after a moment. “Obviously, your friendship with Taeyong was a great catalyst. But that’s not what’s pushed you to actually want to get better. It’s more than that. Something has changed for you; you’ve learned something. What do you think it is?”

Doyoung cocks his head to the side, then nods. “I guess,” he says, “I mean, I told Taeyong all about my brother. And, I dunno, it was like, once I started talking about it, I couldn’t stop until I’d said everything, and a lot of those things were—things I’d never even thought to tell you. But I guess maybe I should tell you, because if they’re bothering me that much then I should probably do something about it, right?”

Dr. Cha smiles. “Yes, that’s usually how therapy works.” She gestures at him, continuing, “So, give me an example.”

“Hm,” Doyoung says, just to stall. “I guess, um, I found myself talking about how—how angry I’ve been. At him, at Donghyun. Like, my whole life. And I dunno, I told you that I was a little upset at him when I found out he’d done it, but—” He looks up, expecting confusion, or disdain, maybe, but only sees understanding. “I was angry, I mean angry, like really angry. Like, rage. You know?” Dr. Cha nods. “And then it’s like—how dare I, you know? I feel fucking awful for feeling like that. I shouldn’t be angry with him. Not for any of it. But I am, anyway.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s quite normal to be angry,” Dr. Cha says. “Your brother never really tried to stick up for you much, and he was always outperforming you, and he never protected you from your parents, or your bullies. And then after a childhood of that, he went and did the one thing you’d always thought you would do but never did. And he left you all alone to deal with it. It’s not his fault, but I don’t think it’s ridiculous for you to feel angry. I certainly don’t think it makes you a bad person.”

“I suppose,” Doyoung admits. “But, I mean, he was a kid, too. If anything I should be angry with my parents.”

“Do you think it’s easier for you to be angry with him because he’s gone, instead of with your parents because you have to see them every day?” Dr. Cha asks. “Or maybe it was easier to be angry with him because everyone fights with their siblings, and that was easier for you to accept than having to consider your relationship with your parents?”

Doyoung opens his mouth to respond, then snaps it shut and gives her a look. “No wonder I didn’t do this before,” he mutters good-naturedly. “Jesus, I dunno. Maybe?”

“Maybe is good enough for now,” Dr. Cha says with a grin. “What else?”

“Well…” As Doyoung talks, he sees Dr. Cha settle into her chair, and it hits him then—gently, but still. I get it now, he thinks. This is what therapy is supposed to do—not just collecting coping mechanisms and hoping one sticks, hoping that by coming enough times somehow she’ll fix it. It’s me saying, here, this is something I’d like to work on. And then she helps me make sense of it.

It’s not perfect, and he knows it’s going to be hard, and it’s going to take a long time. But, he thinks, remembering the way Taeyong looked at him when he left the morning after the storm, it’s going to be worth it. And besides, I’m not alone anymore.

; ; ;

Hey, are you free today? Doyoung sends to Taeyong the next afternoon. He’s slipping his feet into his shoes, so he adds, like now? Are you home?

Taeyong’s response comes in mere seconds. Yeah, why? Are you ok?

I’ll be there in five, Doyoung says, and slides into his car.

He pulls up by the sidewalk and sees Taeyong already out on the porch, one shoe on. “Doyoung?” he calls when he gets out of his car. “What’s going on? Are you… are you here to say goodbye?”

Doyoung shakes his head furiously, locking his doors and jogging up the driveway. “No,” he says, and he gets up the porch and wraps his arms around Taeyong’s shoulders and squeezes. After a moment of shock, Taeyong hugs him back.

“No?” he asks.

“I don’t want this to be it,” Doyoung says quickly. “I’m not gonna do it, Taeyong, I’m not. I wanted to tell you in person, so you’d believe me. So you can stop worrying.”

Taeyong is quiet for a second, and then Doyoung realizes he’s crying. Taeyong hugs him tighter. “I was gonna miss you so fucking much,” Taeyong sobs, and Doyoung laughs.

“Yeah, funny thing about that is, I was thinking about it, and I thought I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “If I did it. So.”

“Good,” Taeyong says. “You told Dr. Cha?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung replies, rolling his eyes even though Taeyong can’t see. “She was pretty pleased with herself.”

“She should be! I’m gonna send her a card,” Taeyong says. “I’m gonna write, ‘Thank you for saving my best friend.’”

“Hey.” Doyoung jostles Taeyong a little bit. “It wasn’t just her. It was you, too, okay? You did that.”

“You did it, too. You’re doing it.” Taeyong finally releases him, and he’s smiling through his tears. “Come inside,” he says softly. “Please. My mom’s baking.” There’s a faint bark from behind the door. They both giggle. “And Ruby wants to see you. C’mon.”

Doyoung takes Taeyong’s hand, kicking off his shoes. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees, following Taeyong inside his house.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 a comprehensive, international-friendly portal of resources

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superhusbands4ever · 3 years

Text

That scene where Crosshair drew his rifle to save Omega and everyone drew their weapons on him because they thought he was going to kill Hunter absolutely gutted me, but I also loved it a lot. Because it showed us a lot about where Crosshair is going, and his relationship with the Bad Batch right now, by doing very little.

Firstly, it showed that Crosshair still cares about The Bad Batch. He knew it would destroy them if anything happened to her. It showed that, on some level, he cares about Omega. He didn’t want her to die. And, most importantly, I think it showed that he still has at least some small sliver of good left buried within him.

However, it also showed that, right now, The Bad Batch does not trust him. They obviously still care about him — you can tell by the way Hunter refused to leave him, the way Omega tried so hard to save his life, the way Wrecker and Tech were hurt that Crosshair never tried to find them just like they never tried to find him. And you can tell by the way they all turn to Crosshair and still offer to take him with them even after everything they’ve done to hurt each other.

….but.

They don’t trust him. And I don’t blame them. Up until Return to Kamino they could excuse Crosshair’s behavior as the inhibitor chip forcing him to do what he’s done. But after Crosshair reveals that his chip was taken out (whether it’s true or not), at this point in time they have to accept that Crosshair chose to attack them. To hurt them. To try and fry them alive in an proton engine. If what Crosshair said is true and his chip is gone, and they don’t know for how long, then that means Crosshair was actively choosing to work against them this whole time. And if Crosshair was choosing to do all of that before, why would he stop now? Especially once he reached safety at the surface of the ocean. It would be so easy for him to just shoot them all, let Omega drown, and take their ship. They see Crosshair draw his rifle on Hunter and have to assume the worst - that he’s going to kill Hunter. Because they have no reason to think he wouldn’t. Hell, in that moment, even my first thought was “what is shooting Hunter going to do” before I realized what he was doing. And I like Crosshair! I want him to be good! I believe that one day he’s going to realize he’s wrong and leave the Empire! But I also recognize that he’s an antagonist, and the Bad Batch has every reason to be wary of him based on what’s happened up to this point and what they know.

I think that moment may have been a big part in Crosshair’s decision to stay behind. Because Hunter and Wrecker and Omega can talk big game about how Crosshair is family and they are willing to take him back and be brothers and sister again. But Crosshair knows they’re afraid of him. He knows they don’t trust him. He knows that if he goes with them, things will never be how they were before. They’ll be looking over their shoulder every time Crosshair sneezes and Crosshair will be walking on eggshells constantly trying to prove to them that he doesn’t want to hurt them. Ultimately, I think choosing not to go with them at this point was the right call. Crosshair needs to redeem himself and prove himself a little for that to happen, and for that to happen he needs to realize that the Empire is wrong. That Crosshair is wrong. And do something about it.

It doesn’t mean that they won’t ever be reunited. It doesn’t mean that they’ll never trust Crisshair again. It doesn’t mean that Crosshair will never realize his mistakes and go back to them. I firmly believe this episode was meant to set up a long-game redemption arc for Crosshair. I think Hunter pointing out that the Empire left him for dead, his interactions to Tech and Wrecker in the tube, and his conversation with Omega in Nala Se’s lab did get through to him enough that the seeds of doubt are planted. You can see the conflict on his face as they’re leaving at the end of the episode. Hopefully with that, combined with how much he obviously still cares for his brothers, he’ll start to realize throughout season 2 that everything he believes about the Empire is wrong. Then hopefully he’ll start the process of making amends and doing the right thing. This episode actually ended up giving me a lot of hope for the future of Crosshair and The Bad Batch.

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Text

Stronger Together

"Dreamer!"

Lena's alarm sears across Nia's senses. She registers the danger at the corner of her eye-- a Brevakk ripping off his sleeves to expose the keratinized spurs protruding from his arms. One sweep of his arm and she'll be dead, skewered in a spray of thick quills sharp enough to penetrate her suit and lacerate any organ they could reach. But she's locked in battle with a K'hund attacking from the front, so all she can do is brace for the inevitable impact.

Suddenly, Nia's view of the Brevakk is eclipsed by the shadow of Lena's back.

"NO!"

The force of the thorns' impact knocks Lena fron her feet, slamming into Nia and causing them both to go down with a cry. Lena's gauntlet fires once, stunning the Brevakk with a glancing blow. Nia throws her own arm out towards her opponent in a desperate bid to gain some ground. The blast of dream energy sends him flying, and when Nia doesn't notice that he doesn't rise again. Her attention is locked on Lena, and the half dozen quills that have found a home in her chest.

"Lena, Lena, oh my god." Nia's hands shake as she climbs out from under Lena and kneels beside her on the pavement. "No, no, no..."

Lena's eyes are glassy and dazed. She looks down at the horns, reaching drunkenly towards them only for Nia to pull her hands away.

"Why did you do that?"

Nia's suit wouldn't have helped much, but it was better than Lena's blouse-- a silly silken thing now ripped and torn, digging into the edges of the wounds around the quills. Lena had no protection beside her gauntlet, and still she had jumped between them.

"N-nia..." Lena's voice crackles in her throat. She coughs, and blood spatters across her chin, staining her berry-red lips a color far more sinister.

Nia's heart lurches with panic. Her head whips up in search of Kara, but Supergirl isn't here. She's on the other side of the city with J'onn, fighting further unrest there. Her eyes lock on another figure, black leather instead of blue.

"ALEX!!"

Nia's shriek cuts through the din, and Sentinel's head whips towards her. In an instant, the pistol in her hand shifts into a warhammer, and Alex slams it down on her opponent, all thoughts of mitigating casualties forgotten. She skids to her knees beside Nia, nearly elbowing her out of the way to crouch over Lena.

"Lena? Jesus... Lena! Can you hear me? Look at me, look at me--"

Lena's eyes track to Alex, and Nia chokes on a sob when she sees the fear in them. But Alex only calms.

"Good, you're okay," Alex tells her, stroking Lena's hair once with a gentle hand. "You're going to be okay."

With her free hand, Alex fumbles for the watch on Lena's wrist, flipping open its face and silently pressing the symbol embossed there. She doesn't take her eyes off Lena for a moment, and when the signal is active Alex slides her palm into Lena's, which curls tightly around hers.

"H-hurts--"

Lena's breath begins to quicken, and the corners of her eyes pinch with the onset of pain. The shock is quickly wearing off, leaving nothing to dull the pain. Alex nods, giving Lena's hand a squeeze.

"I know, but it's going to be okay," she promises. "We're going to get you somewhere safe--"

Supergirl touches down at the moment, pavement cracking beneath the force of her panic. "Lena!!"

Kara kneels opposite her sister, taking in the damage with wide eyes. She grips Lena's free hand tightly, even as she looks to Alex for instructions.

"Hospital," Alex says simply, urgency clipping her tone. "Now."

Kara nods, and gently maneuvers Lena into her arms. Lena cries out, the sound sharp in Nia's ears. When Nia blinks, tears dampen the fabric of her mask.

"I'm sorry," Kara murmurs, pressing her nose to the side of Lena's head. "I'm sorry."

"K-kar--" Lena gasps for breath, coughing up more blood. Her back now visible, Nia sees that one of the thorns has penetrated so deeply that it tents the back of Lena's shirt.

"It's okay," Kara echoes the well-meaning lie of her sister. "I've got you."

In a burst of wind, Kara takes off, and Nia sits dazed in her wake. It's long moments before she registers Alex's insistent hands tugging her up.

"It was supposed to be me," Nia intones, flat with shock. "She--"

"I know," Alex cuts her off, not unkindly. She tugs Nia to her feet then shoves her into a run. "But we need to go. Now!"

Together, they make their retreat, leaving the alley and the unconscious aliens behind just as the distant wail of approaching sirens cuts through the air.

---

Nia wastes no time in stripping off her costume and changing back into her civvies. But before she can reach the exit, Alex cuts her off. "You can't go to the hospital."

Surprise jolts through Nia, before its quickly replaced with anger. "Are you insane?"

"Nia--"

"I can't just wait here-- she-- those barbs were meant for me, Alex! She's hurt because of me. I can't not be there!"

"Kara just called."

Time seems to freeze. Nia feels ice pool in her veins as a lump climbs to her throat and lodges there. "No..."

Alex rushes to reassure her. "No! That's not-- no, Lena's still in surgery. But-- the police are there."

Nia's relief that Lena is alive cuts short with confusion. "What? Why?"

"They're there to take Lena into custody."

"They can't do that!"

"She's aided and abetted known vigilantes," Alex explains. "With everything that's been happening lately--"

"It's not right!"

"Lena will be fine. Truly. Kara is going to CatCo to get Andrea to make the arrest as public as possible. Between that and the Luthor reputation, my guess is that they'll question her about our identities and then let her go."

"That's-- that's--" Nia struggles to find words through her growing rage. The helplessness of the past few months, the rising anti-alien sentiments, the crackdown on Supergirl on her friends... it all comes to a head, and Nia can barely breathe.

Alex reaches for Nia's hand. "If you go now, you'll only risk exposing yourself. Lena wouldn't want that."

Nia sucks in a breath, but it comes in a sob. The next thing she knows, Alex's arms are around her and she's crying into her shoulder, huge lurching sobs that feel like the world is quaking around her.

"It's okay," Alex promises.

"It's my fault," Nia gasps. "It's all my fault..."

"Lena's going to be okay."

---

Nia may not be able to go to the hospital, but she can't stay in the Tower either. In the end she goes to CatCo, ready to throw her weight behind Kara's pitch to fry the police in the press. Luckily, Andrea doesn't need the convincing.

"I want both of you on this," their boss delivers with a coolness sharpened to a razors edge by the glint of rage in her eyes. "William too. I want you to dig up anything you can find about the arresting officers. Any whisper of corruption within the NCPD that you might have been sitting on, now is your time to air it. CatCo won't stand for this."

Nia and Kara both nod solemnly before retreating to their desks. But instead of diverting to her own desk, Kara follows Nia to hers.

"How are you holding up?"

The gentle question threatens a resurgence of tears. Nia looks away, only for her eyes to catch on the photo of her and Lena on her desk, taken at one of their sister nights the year before. Nia can't remember the last time they've hung out, just the two of them.

Blinking furiously, Nia flips the picture down and opens up her laptop. "Fine."

"It's okay to not be fine..."

"Do you want to know if I'm angry that my friend is alone in the hospital because of me? Fine! I'm angry!"

Kara's features soften. "Nia..."

"It's my fault she's there in the first place!" Nia hisses. The lump returns to her throat, and her eyes burn with unshed tears. "She just, just... she just jumped between us! I should've--"

"Hey." Kara calms her with a hand on her shoulder. Nia sucks in a breath, then another, trying to steady herself. Finally, Kara's features pinch into a bemused smile. "You know Lena... There's no line she won't cross, for the people she cares about."

Instead of comforting her, Kara's words only makes Nia grit her teeth. She turns back to the computer. They better be willing to do the same for her.

"Let's get to work."

----

The first article runs the following morning, skewering the police department for rampant anti-alien abuses while highlighting Lena's charity and outreach. While it's not quite enough to banish the police presence from the hospital, it does get a single visitor in to see Lena. Nia expects Kara to take it, but to her surprise Kara simply nods her towards the door.

"Go," Kara says softly. "Give her our love."

Nia doesn't stop to ask twice. She's ushered into Lena's hospital room by a kindly looking nurse, glaring at the officer posted outside the door on her way in. The second her eyes land on Lena, rage swells in her chest at the side of the handcuffs tethering Lena to the bed.

"Is that really necessary?" she demands, balling her hands into fists. "Where is she going to go?"

"Nia..." Lena's soft voice from the bed interrupts her before she can gather much steam. "It's okay."

Nia huffs, eyeing the way the officer slowly moves his hand from his sidearm when Nia turns back to the room. But then all she can see is Lena, hair limp and torso bulky with bandages under her hospital gown.

"It's not okay," Nia says, sitting in the chair thats been placed next to Lena's bed.

"It's just a misunderstanding," Lena insists, her gaze sliding towards the door. The door itself remains open, denying them any sense of privacy. But Lena doesn't seem to mind when her gaze returns to Nia. "You okay?"

Nia chokes on her own tongue. "Am I--? Lena, you're in the hospital..."

"And I'm okay." Lifting her cuffed wrist, Lena silently reaches for Nia's hand, which Nia offers without hesitation. "Promise."

All of a sudden, the tears come back, pressing against her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry--"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "I'm okay."

"You shouldn't have--"

"Been there in the alley? When that guy tried to mug me?" Lena asks pointedly. Clearly, she's already established her cover story. "You're right, I should have known better." She pitches her voice loud enough to carry to the door. "I'm just lucky Sentinel and Dreamer were there to help me."

They wait a moment to listen for a response, but when none comes, they devolve into a fit of giggles.

"Ow," Lena grimaces with a cough. "No laughing for a while."

Nia tightens her grip on Lena's hand. "I... Lena, I'm so sorry--"

"I'd do it again," Lena returns, softly this time. Her words are for Nia alone. "That's what friends do."

---

Alex turns out to be right. As soon as Lena is well enough to leave the hospital, she's taken to the precinct for interrogation, but between CatCo's articles stirring up enough local support that a crowd forms around the precinct to protest the arrest, and the kind of lawyers a Luthor can acquire even after abandoning the family legacy, Lena is released without charge in a matter of hours.

Nia stays at the Tower hoping to see her, but Lena doesn't come.

"She's guessed she's probably being watched," Alex tells her. "She'll being laying low for a while til the heat dies down. All the better, honestly. It'll give her time to heal."

Nia swallows thickly. "Where is she?"

"Home. Kara's with her, but I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Nia approaches Lena's condo without much of a plan. She's armed with snacks and movies, but she knows that having Kara there won't give Nia the time with Lena she needs. She misses Lena, all more the more since she realized how long it had been since they'd just been... friends. More than allies, more than teammates, just... friends.

It feels like Maeve all over again.

But she swallows her nerves and takes the elevator up. Kara opens the door just as Nia lifts her hand to knock.

"Hey," Kara says quietly. She steps aside to let Nia in, and though she can hear the tv from the next room, they linger in the foyer.

"Is everything okay?" Kara asks.

Nia nods. "Yeah. Um. I just--"

She doesn't have an explanation either. Nia stares at her feet, until Kara breaks the silence.

"Look, I have a favor to ask..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind staying with Lena for a few hours?"

When Nia looks up, she finds Kara scrubbing the back of her head with one hand, looking sheepish.

"Yeah," she continues, "I've been kind of... hovering? And I think it's getting on her nerves a little. So I figured I could get some stuff done at CatCo--"

"Yes," Nia blurts. "Yes, of course. I'll stay."

Kara grins. "Thanks. She's in the living room now, if you want to..."

"Right. Yeah, I've got this. Go."

Kara thanks her with another smile that makes her whole face shine. "Call if you need anything."

She slips out the door with a wink, and locks it behind her. Nia walks to the living room on wooden legs, and finds Lena laying on the couch against a pile of pillows, propping her up to take the pressure off her wounds.

She looks up when Nia enters, and though her eyes are tired, her features crease into a smile. "Hey..."

"Hey."

Lena struggles to sit up, prompting Nia to close the distance swiftly. "No, no, no, stay comfy."

Relenting with a sigh, Lena groans. "Not like I have much choice these days."

"It'll get better."

Silence follows. Nia stands awkwardly, hands gripping her bag of candy tightly until Lena regards it with curiosity.

"What's all this?"

Nia starts. "Oh. Uhm... I thought-- well, I was wondering..." She trails off, shoulders slumping. "It's been a while since we've had sister's night."

When Lena doesn't answer, Nia risks a glance up to find Lena blinking in astonishment, before her features soften to warmth. She smiles.

"Well, there's no time like the present."

Lena lifts her arms, making playful grabby motions with her hands.

"What'd you bring me?"

----

Hours later, Kara returns home to find Nia seated on the couch with Lena's legs across her lap. It's as close to cuddling as Lena can get, with her injuries, and the way Nia's hands are spread over Lena's shins tells Kara that the contacr was very much needed.

Lena sleeps peacefully, the tv low in the background. Nia looks up at Kara from the shadows, the light reflecting in the tear tracks painted on her cheeks. Without a word, Kara slips in next to Nia, working her way under Lena's ankles to wrap one arm around the younger girl's shoulders.

Nia hugs her back, shaking quietly with the effort to keep her crying silent.

"It's okay," Kara whispers. Nia nods against her. So long as they were all together, they could get through anything.

"We're going to be okay."

#supercorp #nia and lena brotp #kind of a continuation of sister sister #alternate universe #but could have conceivably happened if lena had been part of the superfriends during the col storyline #that sort of atmosphere #let me know what you think

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pingutats · 3 years

Text

wake up in some promised land

despite his best efforts to keep their relationship out of the public eye, harry & y/n are photographed together as they leave a party one night —and harry has an interview the very next morning.

warnings: a little bit of angst about trying to navigate fame and a relationship. harry has a foul mouth. but there’s a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

. . . . .

Harry was decidedly not in a good mood.

It had been a late night. He’d had a few more drinks than he usually did. In his defence it was earned—he’d just released an album, it was soaring to great heights on iTunes charts all over the world and already receiving overwhelmingly positive reviews—so sue him if he indulged in some expensive champagne, a couple fancy cocktails, too many rounds of shots for him to remember clearly… It was a good night all around.

The headache he has right now though, brought on by the sudden blare of his alarm (far earlier than he would have preferred), threatens to tarnish the memory. He even considers swearing off drinking forever so he’ll never suffer like this again.

When he voices this intention to a dozing Y/N as he pulls a shirt on, his only feedback is a pillow-muffled, “You’re such an old man, H.”

He leans over the bed and kisses the small part of her forehead that’s exposed between the pillow and the blanket. “Come on, love. Time to get up.”

“You can get up. I don’t have a radio appearance to make.” She jerks the blanket up to cover her head entirely. “I’ll stay here, thank you very much.”

He manages to drag her downstairs with him anyway, with promises of making her coffee and a hot breakfast. In the kitchen she yawns and stretches, the over-sized sleep shirt opening like bat wings as she raises her arms above her head. He has to force his fond gaze away to concentrate on turning the coffee machine on and pulling eggs out of the fridge.

“This is a really ungodly hour,” she comments, watching him rummage around in a cupboard for a frying pan.

“No such thing as a good night’s sleep when you’re as successful as I am,” he tells her wisely.

She doesn’t even indulge him with a laugh, which tells him exactly how tired she is.

The coffee’s done quickly—Harry is so addicted to the stuff he could probably make it in his sleep with all the practise he’s had—and she grabs the cup from him with greedy fingers, closing her eyes and sipping as she’s perched up on the counter.

Harry nearly lets out a moan when the caffeine hits his lips. It surely can’t work that quickly, but already he’s starting to feel alive again. He turns to the stovetop and cracks the eggs in the frypan with one hand, using his other hand to cling to his cup for dear life.

His phone starts ringing and the sound pierces through his head. His manager’s name is displayed, which is a good thing because if it was anyone else calling right now Harry would probably be tempted to kill them, and even if no publicity is bad publicity, he’s not sure a murder charge would be good for his album sales. He slides his finger across the screen to answer it and tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he adjusts the heat on the stove.

“Hey, Jeff,” he says.

Jeff laughs on the other end. “You sound fucked.”

“Big night,” Harry grumbles. “You don’t sound to pretty yourself.”

“All I’m saying is you better get yourself set in the next half hour, ‘cause a voice like that on the radio isn’t going to help you sell records.”

“I’m makin’ breakfast,” Harry retorts. “Got a coffee, I’ll be fine—oh, shit—fuck!” He’s mixed up his hands as he tried to flip the eggs, and poured coffee in the frypan. “Give me a second.”

He sets his coffee down on the counter and unsticks his phone from his cheek, turning it on speaker and placing it next to his cup. He stares at mess in the frypan and decides he’s going to have to try drain the liquid into the sink, without losing the eggs. He accepts this challenge with humility and grace, because he knows it’s his own stupid fault.

Y/N is cackling behind him. On any other day he might have been annoyed, but her laughter this morning just means that she’s in a better mood than earlier. He’d give anything to keep her happy, so if it takes fucking up their breakfast to have her smiling—so be it.

“Okay,” Harry says to Jeff once he’s secured the situation.

“Is everything okay over there?” Jeff’s voice is slightly tinny through the phone speaker, but his stress is evident in his tone.

“Yeah, we’re just—“ he looks at the eggs, dyed brown by the coffee, and glances over his shoulder apologetically at Y/N. “We’re having caffeinated eggs. You’re on speaker. Y/N’s here too. Say hi, baby.”

“Hey, Jeff,” Y/N chirps.

Jeff sighs. “Hi. Listen, it‘s probably good that you both hear this anyway. There are a couple of photos of the two of you from last night that are doing the rounds on Twitter this morning.”

Harry stiffens. “What?”

Here’s the thing: Harry and Y/N are definitely an item. It’s happened pretty quickly. They’ve been dating for a few months and now whenever they’re in the same city they’re practically living together. They’ve said “I love you” to each other often enough that its utterance isn’t a special occasion anymore. So, sure, they’re boyfriend-girlfriend, and if all goes to Harry’s plan, they’ll be more than that soon enough.

But in the meantime, she’s also his best-kept secret. There have been rumours, of course. They’ve been spotted having lunch together or going on walks. Anyone paying attention knows they’re good friends, but Harry has been careful not to let the other dimension of their relationship slip out into public yet. He conducts himself on public outings (secretly dates) like a Victorian gentleman, constantly vigilant that his affection never goes beyond what’s appropriate between friends.

“They’re not bad,” Jeff says quickly. “It’s just pretty obvious what’s going on. I’ll send them to you, hang on.”

Y/N slides off the bench and comes to stand right behind Harry, leaning around him to stare at the phone. The minute of waiting for the photos to come through feels like forever. Y/N must sense his tension, because she puts her hands on his shoulders and squeezes.

A notification pops up at the top of his screen: from Jeff, 8 images attached. He taps it quickly and frowns at the photos.

They must have been taken as they were leaving the bar that the album release party was at. He notices Jeff and others also crowded on the pavement outside, lit by the orange glow of streetlights. The focus, however, is of course on Harry and Y/N, who were putting on something of a show for all their friends—and, apparently, the rest of the world.

The first couple are okay. There Harry is, his arm slung around Y/N, clearly not sober as he bellows something up to the sky with a massive grin on his face and closed eyes. They were singing, he vaguely remembers, the karaoke they were doing inside the bar spilling over the rest of their night. Y/N is laughing at him, clapping her hands together.

Harry drags his finger up the screen to scroll to the next photos in Jeff’s chain. These ones start to reveal the two of them as much more than just friends. The arm around her dropped to her waist, pulling her into his body. And then he was bending his head down. And then he was kissing her.

He scrolls down even further.

In this one, he’s groping her ass in full view of the camera.

“Harry, you lecher!” Y/N scolds, smacking his arm in good humour.

He just shakes his head, staring at the photo. “There’s no plausible deniability, is there?”

“There isn’t,” Jeff says over the phone. He laughs weakly. “You two put on a real show.” He must sense the panic that Harry’s feeling, because he adds, “Listen, Harry, I can blacklist questions about it if you want. Just tell me what you want to do.”

Harry looks at Y/N, chewing on his lip. He feels like a teenager again, out of control of his narrative and at the mercy of the media. He’s meticulously developed his skills of privacy for years, now, and one night of insobriety and bad luck undid it all.

Jeff clears his throat. “The thing with blacklisting is that it might raise more questions. And even if you don’t talk about it, you’ve gotta remember that everyone else will be.”

“Yeah.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Look—“

Y/N puts her hand on his cheek, patting him. “Hey,” she says gently. “It’s okay.”

He sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth and holds it in for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he says finally with a sigh.

She scoffs. “You’re not the only one in these photos.”

He frowns. She doesn’t get that he’s apologising for more than just the photos. It’s the fact that they have to deal with this at all, that it’s such a big deal for them to simply act like a normal couple. It’s the fact that it’s him, and he is who he is.

“H,” she presses further. “It’s up to you. Your decision. But I want you to know that I’m happy whichever way you choose.”

He searches her eyes for any hint of doubt. She didn’t manage to clean off all her make-up last night, and there’s a smear of glitter on her temple and dark smudges of mascara underneath her eyes. She looks tired, but she’s definitely serious about what she’s saying.

“You get what it means to be public with me, though,” he says at last. He hesitates. “It’s… intense.”

She shrugs and gives him a cocky grin. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” She’s holding his head in her hands, her fingers smoothing his unruly curls off his face. “It’s just a few photos. It isn’t everything.”

It isn’t everything. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then leans down to kiss her gently. It’s just an innocent peck, but the feel of her soft lips against his is enough to ground him.

Jeff clears his throat awkwardly.

They break apart with embarrassed smiles. “Sorry,” Harry says, but he isn’t really.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, sounding uncomfortable. “You’re going to have to make a decision soon, because we’re really cutting it fine.”

Harry looks at Y/N, who nods.

He turns back to the phone. “Don’t worry about it,” Harry says. “Let them ask the questions.”

“Yeah?” Jeff asks. “Okay then, that saves me a load of trouble. Good luck, man. Enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, hanging up with a sharp tap on the screen. He turns around to Y/N with a grin on his face. “Where were we…”

Y/N giggles as he gathers her into his arms, pulling her in close for a kiss that no one else can see or hear, a kiss just for them. When she pulls back to breath, he peppers his lips all over her face until she’s squirming away—“Harry, that tickles!”

He lands one last kiss on her cheek before his gaze lands on the time display on the oven behind her, which tells him he has ten minutes before he needs to be on the Zoom call for the interview.

She notices the sudden shift in his demeanour and glances behind her to see what caused it. She turns back around. “I’ll sit with you.”

He nods. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that.”

“It’s Harry Styles!” the presenter cries.

“It’s me! Hello, hello,” he says, waving at the screen. The laptop is set on the coffee table and he’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees as he grins at the screen. “How are ya?”

“Oh, we’re wonderful,” the presenter replies. “More importantly, how are you? Looks like you had a big night last night, judging by these photos we’re seeing!”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Big night,” he echoes, dragging out the word.

The presenter laughs. “Sounds like a great time. Well deserved after this masterpiece of an album. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like you’re quite close with somebody there. Would you explain what’s going on here, Harry?”

Harry peers at the photo displayed on his computer screen, even though he knows exactly what it will be. The one they chose is a sweet one, with Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck and kiss that he seems to be melting into. He can’t suppress his smile at that. “Oh, well,” he says. “That’s my friend Y/N.”

The presenter raises his eyebrows at that. “Good friend, is she?”

Harry glances up over the laptop to look at Y/N, sitting on the other couch, her cheeks pink and round from her smile. Harry surreptitiously reaches his arm towards her, out of frame, and she leans forward to hold his hand.

“She is. She’s a lovely girl.” He squeezes her hand. “Yeah, we’re very good friends.”

. . . . .

thank you so much for reading! this fic is based on a request from @kissmyaxe140 — i really intended this to be a shorter blurb of a few hundred words, but i’m incapable of brevity. apparently. this grew into a little monster but i rlly had fun writing it!! the title is a lyric from secret life by bleachers.

if you liked this fic, a reblog and/or any kind of feedback would be very much appreciated. my masterlist can be found here and you can send me messages here. have a gorgeous day!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #fic

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kakiwrites · 3 years

Note

this is going to become a shin tsukimi acc now bc of anons HAHA can i request shin x AI reader? like after their death and he sees their AI or something and gets to talk to it

an AI reunion

Genre: angst to fluff-ish

A shin tsukimi x reader

a/n: okay, anon, your wish is my command! I decided that this was entirely separate from the 3 part story. Hope that's okay anon! Without further ado, let's get started!

He was a failure.

He had the key to unlock you from your chains. If he just moved a second quicker, been just been a tad bit braver, he could've saved you.

But instead, he had to witness you getting ripped apart by the chains that bind you.

If that wasn't bad, as soon as he stumbled out of the room, he was shown his fate. there in a dark room with the blackboard, a mysterious girl showed him a mysterious percentage right beside his name.

0.0%

Shin sat at the bottom of the hole just above him, his eyes drained with all light as he watched as other people began to emerge from the openings. He didn't dare to stand up, his legs refused to carry his weight.

In his mind, a thought began to form.

If Sou was here, would he had able to carry this weight on his shoulders? Would he had been able to save the person in front of him?

If he were Sou, he might've found the courage to put the key in.

Shin rubbed his eyes and stumbled up to his feet, forcing himself to take a step into the light.

If only he were Sou...

Shin was quick to adapt, that was what you loved about him.

He forced on a front, a personality that only he was familiar with. He needed to do it to fool everyone so he doesn't die. So he doesn't get picked on and voted out by the strong vultures.

He embodied Sou. He took on his name and his personality. He acted as close to his old friend as he could and he hated every second of it. He hated to manipulate others, especially naive children, but what other choice did he have?

He needed to live.

He needed to live to keep your memory alive.

But he knew that you wouldn't be happy if you found out what he'd done.

his little personality change wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. He became a target. He got hit in the head twice, once with a frying pan for trying to look through the laptop in the secret room, the other with a thick plank of wood as soon as he got to the next level.

It wasn't so easy being the rational one, especially since Sara was even more suspicious than him. her name was mentioned a lot in Kai's emails.

He groggily woke up to see Kanna standing over him with a worried glint in her eye. "you were knocked out with a plank. everyone was really worried. Are you okay?" she asked, twiddling with her fingers in nervousness.

He faked a smile before pushing his body to sit. "of course Kanna. My head kind of hurts but I'm fine." he cleared his throat, changing the subject. "where's Sara and the others?"

"running around doing attractions."

Shin tilted his head in confusion. "wait, what are attractions? Is this our new game?"

Kanna nodded. She began to explain the game and the clear conditions. Shin began to realize something. Kanna stayed here and watched him even though she could've begun collecting clear chips. Despite manipulating her, Kanna still cared enough to stick by his side.

Shin didn't know if Kanna was just sympathetic or stupid.

And he didn't know if he should be thankful.

"you haven't played anything yet, right?" Shin pushed himself out of bed. He stood in front of Kanna, bending down to meet her eyes. Kanna nodded. "well, we better head out and play something. We don't want to fall behind now, do we?" he said, his hand reaching out and ruffling her hair. Kanna smiled, a renewed, more child-like one.

This was what he almost broke and tainted.

Shin stepped out and waited for Kanna to do the same. He let her walk ahead and take the lead.

If Kanna was willing to give him another chance then Shin was willing to make it up to her. He was willing to actually work together instead of using one another.

Because he was sure that was what you wanted him to do.

The floor was quiet by the time Shin and Kanna went out.

"it seems like sister Sara and the others are still doing attractions." kanna chimed in, walking into the main lounge area and sat down. She looked at Shin expectedly. Shin smiled at her before he deciding to look into one of the opened doorways. It was a room filled with monitors and a big control panel in the middle.

Shin stepped into the room with his hands in his pockets. He observed the control panel from a distance. This was a device that even he wasn't familiar with. If he was going to help the group then he better start figuring out what it does. Shin was only able to take a step forward when one of the monitors burst to life. He looked up and stumbled back in shock.

there, on the screen, was you.

"shin! Hey!" you exclaimed, your usual smile on your face. Your face dropped when you finally see the silent tears that began to stream down his cheeks. The AI wanted so desperately to reach out and wipe those tears away. "come on, shin, Don't cry... You know how i hate seeing you cry." you tried to console him.

Shin wiped his eyes only for new tears to replace the old ones. He slowly took another step closer. Was this a dream? No, this isn't a dream. Why were you smiling? He killed you. You were supposed to be angry or disappointed.

What did he do to deserve this?

"do you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"what I did to you..."

"oh..." you let out an awkward chuckle. "no... Not exactly. I remember waking up in chains but the rest is kind of a blur." you told him. Shin wasn't letting up. "why? Did you do something?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"you're supposed to be mad at me!" he yelled, his voice filled with sorrow. He gripped his hair harshly. "I killed you! I could've saved you but I couldn't. I was too scared to put the key in the lock and now you're dead!"

"I'm supposed to be mad?"

Shin looked up at you in disbelief. Yes, you were supposed to be mad. You were supposed to resent him, to curse him out. To blame your death on him.

Why aren't you doing that?

"How can I be mad when you're right in front of me, alive and well." you let out a watery laugh. "look, I might've died and I know that must've sucked but look where that got you. You're still here, fighting. I can tell it wasn't so easy to get here but I'm so proud that you're able to stand here and talk to me."

Shin felt a ghost of a smile begin to appear on his face.

"But you have to move on."

His jaw dropped. What the hell are you saying now? "i-i just got to see you again. W-what do you mean by move on?" he asked, his voice cracking under his emotions.

"your thoughts of me being angry at you must've weighed you down so much. You don't need to feel that guilt anymore. I can assure you, I'm not mad. " you said. before Shin could open his mouth again, you continued. "but clinging onto this AI version of me is going to hold you back even more. You're gonna ruin all of the progress you've done without me. that's the last thing I want. I'm sure the thing you've built for yourself is more than enough to get through this hellhole."

"b-but-"

"let me go, shin. I've forgiven you. So you're free to move on without any regrets." you said, laughing bittersweetly as tears began to pour down Shin's face once more. "if you come here, I'll sure be angry and you wouldn't want that, do you?" Shin shook his head. "good."

"sou?"

Shin turned back to see Kanna's eyes going back and forth to look at him and the AI. Your eyes widened at the name. "so that's your plan..." you mumbled to yourself. Shin looked back to defend himself only to be met by your palm. "I get what you did. No need to feel anxious about what I feel, okay? Now go!"

If you were truly there, you might've pushed him but you didn't need to. The will of your words did it for you. Shin felt moved like he was pushed in the right direction.

he knew what he needed to do.

"sou, who's that?"

"Just someone I loved." Shin took one last glance at you before he walked over to the girl and playfully nudged her back out the door.

Shin's chest felt lighter. Nothing was weighing him down anymore. He knew what to do now. He needed to protect the people he cared about. He couldn't do it with you but he was sure he can do it with Kanna.

And that was more than enough.

Shin brought Kanna closer to him. His smile couldn't come any easier. "now come on, we have a lot more things to do."

And that is all! I'm so sorry this seems rushed or kind of disrupts the storyline but I hope you still enjoy it anon! Requests are open so please don't feel shy to leave more requests in my inbox! Love you guys 💕❤️❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia @tessabrown101

#your turn to die #yttd #kimi ga shine #your turn to die x reader #yttd x reader #kimi ga shine x reader #sou hiyori #sou #shin tsukimi #shin #sou hiyori x reader #sou x reader #shin tsukimi x reader #shin x reader #kaki writes

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gladerscake · 3 years

Text

You’re Back

(Gally x Reader)

I’ve never written an Imagine before, so I apologize if it’s a mess. But I just love Gally so much, I couldn’t help myself. So here goes...

You couldn’t believe it. You were probably dreaming. The boy you loved, lost, and had spent months grieving, was suddenly right there, before your eyes. As his mask dropped to the ground with a thud, you could swear your heart did, too. Everything seemed to slow down as you stared at him, wide-eyed and frozen, feeling like all air had been drained from your lungs. No... It couldn’t be true. You were asleep, you had to be. There was no way.

Gally...

You watched him die. He died in your arms after Minho’s spear had pierced his chest. You remembered it so vividly, despite your most ardent attempts not to. Tears, a gunshot, the horrid sound of the spear embedding itself in his flesh... and then you, on your knees, by his side, holding him as he choked on his breath. You remembered shaking, screaming, pleading for him to hold on, telling him that it was all going to be okay, all while your own heart shattered to pieces at the thought of losing him forever.

You and Gally were never just friends. From the moment you’d first locked eyes in the glade, you both could feel it. That unseen force drawing you to one another. Every smooth conversation, every shy grin, every lighthearted joke, every adorable blush that would paint his freckled cheeks whenever you two ended up a little too close to one another... Every time you’d fall asleep on him during bonfires, because he’d been the only one you trusted enough to do that with... All the times you’d yearn to lean in just a little bit closer and find out what it felt like to have his plump lips on yours... Sure enough, it wasn’t long before you two were together. You and Gally.

He was never anything but kind, protective, and loving to you. Enough so, that a few of the other Gladers were tempted to make fun of him for it. But, of course, nobody actually had the guts to do it. He was, after all, the tough and mighty Keeper of the Builders, the unbeaten Champion of the Circle. No one would ever dare.

Losing him, having to leave him behind while WICKED’s soldiers dragged you away and shoved you into a helicopter, broke you. It was the worst pain you’d ever felt, no comparison. Not even your closest friends, Newt and Minho, could help you. Despite their best efforts. You were inconsolable. You felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, never to be put back again.

And now... There he was. Seemingly even stronger, better, and very much alive.

Your head was spinning, you were sure you were about to collapse at any moment as you stared at the chiseled, freckle-littered face that only came to you in your dreams for the last few months, up until now.

“Y/N...”

There it was. His voice. Gally’s voice, saying your name, with the same sincerity it had back in the Glade. Gally’s voice, low and velvety, the voice you always loved falling asleep to as he would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his muscular arms wrapped around your smaller body and promising to never let go.

“G-Gally...?”

It was all you could utter. You felt waves of shock rippling through you, your mind struggling to register what was happening. Your heart leapt up to your throat, beating relentlessly, as your lips trembled. He was alive... You didn’t know how, but he was.

You could vaguely hear Jorge asking Fry who the hell they were looking at, but his voice, along with every other sound felt so distant, drowned out by the whirlwind of emotions coursing through your being.

And then, something churned inside of you. Your dazed state pulled back just enough to allow you to move, again. Without a second thought, you launched yourself into Gally’s arms, practically throwing yourself onto him.

You didn’t care about the crowd of people watching you, you didn’t care about anything other than the feeling of his strong arms engulfing you in a tight, unfaltering grip as you held onto him for dear life, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. It had been an endless nightmare, trying to forget what Gally’s warmth felt like, his touch, his hugs... and now all those sensations were rushing back to you, slowly rekindling the light within you you’d thought was long gone.

Gally could barely comprehend the relief he felt when you jumped into him. For months he had been searching for you, for any sign of you and the others, only to fail, again, and again... And now that he finally had you back, all he could think about was how much he had missed you and how happy he was that you were still alive. The thought of something happening to you, of you possibly not making it, had plagued his mind the whole time of you being apart, causing him to toss and turn and succumb to heart-wrenching nightmares every night, hardly allowing him to get any decent amount of sleep.

But now you were back, back in his arms, where you belonged.

“Gally...”

Your quivering voice brought him out of his initial stupor as his arms tightened around you. You could practically feel his racing heart against your own as his firm chest pressed up against you.

You pulled back just enough to gaze into the piercing green eyes you’ve always adored and was sure you’d never see again.

“H-How...?” You managed to choke out, a sob threatening to escape your throat as your dainty fingers reached up to cup his face.

Gally’s gaze burned into yours with more emotion than you’d thought existed, his own eyes beginning to gloss over with impending tears, although he never let them escape, doing his earnest to hold it together, even though you could clearly see how difficult it was for him.

“Long story, baby... But I’m here.” He breathed, promptly pulling you back into his warm embrace, your head instantly burying in his neck as your arms wrapped around him once more. Pulling back felt like such an impossible task now. You wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms, just like this, for as long as you could.

“I’m here... I’ve got you now...” His soft, comforting whisper sounded so close to your ear, and you couldn’t help the tremor that passed through you at the sound. Gally still loved you. You could feel it in the way he was holding you, like you were the only thing he’d ever need in this life. And you loved him, you never stopped. Not even “death” had been able to pull the tall sandy-haired boy from your heart.

Gally was back... You would surely have to ask him more about it later, you had so many questions, but for now, all you cared about was the feeling of him holding you so tightly, his warmth surrounding you, his love soaking into you with every thump of his pounding heart.

You were given a second chance. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what lay ahead, you would never let Gally be ripped away from you again.

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @obsessivelycapricious

#the maze runner #tmr gally #the death cure #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally x fem!reader #TMR #gally tmr #tmr imagine #gally #tmr oneshot #tmr fanfic #gally x you #gally fanfic

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 4

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

A/N: DOUBLE UPLOAD! So i decided to split this part in two since i didn't want it to drag on for too long... next part will be uploaded tomorrow!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon @hvunvely @fluffybitch0325 @fashi0nablee @juststop88

You picked up the lanyard, looking between your burnt jacket in one hand and the vandalized piece of plastic in the other. The burnt polyester felt rough against your fingers. It was littered with black holes, almost to the point where it was unrecognizable as your jacket.

The lanyard, on the other hand, was almost untouched — save for the black marker that was sketched on the plastic. In the picture, on the part where your upper body was showing, there was only the black marker. The black blob stretched across your torso, the shape depicting a hoodie. Your eyes landed on the eyes in your picture. Thick lines drawn in the shape of an X covered both of them.

You quickly entered your apartment, hoping nobody saw you. You then stood completely still, listening to the silence, trying to find if anybody had broken into your home. After a minute, when it seemed as if you were the only person in there, you decided to lay the two vandalized items on your desk to further analyze them.

Your brain immediately tried to play this down by assuming that these were just kids who did this to your stuff, after all, it was something very immature. Children were the only people who had the time to play with fire and draw on other people’s pictures.

However, your gut told you something different. Why was your jacket along with your lanyard placed right in front of your apartment? Why was the marker outline specifically in the shape of a hoodie? Who could have known you were in the parking lot at that time of day?

Your mind drifted to one specific person. Manager Kim. He not only saw that you were in the parking lot that day with that jacket on, but also he knew your face from the lanyard. But why would he do something this childish? And how did he know where you lived?

The parking lot security guard had also been there when you wore that jacket, but he didn’t even look at you. And he would have no motive to do this sort of thing.

You rubbed your chin in thought, still not understanding everything. Was there somebody else that knew you were there?

Still feeling anxious, you began to prepare a cup of tea. You were reminded of Bang Chan. The tea. The smell of his hoodie.

His hoodie. The black hoodie.

Realization hit you like a truck as your eyes widened in disbelief. Was it maybe… Bang Chan?

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Hands shaking, you picked up your phone to call him, silently begging for the mysterious person to not be him.

He picked up.

“Hello? Y/n?”

You stayed silent.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked.

“I… I lost my jacket and it had my lanyard in it,” you tried to be careful with your words, not wanting to rouse suspicion from him, “have you seen it anywhere?”

“No,” you could almost see Bang Chan furrowing his eyebrows, “I’m still in the building though. I could look for it?”

“That’s alright,” you sighed in relief. He genuinely sounded confused, and plus, he was always so nice — there was no way he would ever do this kind of thing to you. You felt guilty for even suspecting him. “Thanks for offering though.”

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“I know I said this before, but,” he paused, “if you need help with anything I’ll be there. I mean it.”

A chill ran down your spine at the seriousness of his voice. “I know. Thanks.”

You hung up, uneasy. The problem was unsolved, and to be honest, you were a little scared. There was somebody that knew who you were and where you lived. It was probably a good idea to change the passcode to your lock.

The kettle started to whistle. You turned off the flame of your stove and poured yourself a cup of tea, hoping that it would calm you down. Although it did a little, you still felt apprehensive about the whole thing. Your mood stayed the same the whole night, even when you tried to scroll through your phone or go to sleep.

The next day, you woke up with your mind cleared. No longer were you still feeling the aftershocks of the creepy jacket burner, and with your mood lifted more, you felt like you could think more objectively.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Throughout your whole week, this incident stuck in the back of your mind. Although your memory was getting fuzzier and fuzzier with the passing days, you still tried to work out who the culprit was in your free time.

Your mind was also filled with something else. Or was it someone else?

It seemed like, during the whole week, you couldn’t stop thinking of Bang Chan. You had to put part of the blame on him, though. Everytime he had a free moment in his busy schedule — granted it was rare that he did — he wanted to see you.

From secretly bringing you snacks from the vending machine to summoning you to his recording room in order to show his newest creation, he always seemed to stay busy even in his free time. You weren’t complaining, though. It was nice to have a friend who was so different from what you were used to.

You also spent a lot of time with Na-eun too. However, the time you spent with her felt different. Not in any good or bad way, just different. With her, it was mainly in the cafeteria, raving over the food after finally finding a free table. It was also trying to talk over everybody in the crowded streets as you two went shopping after work.

You liked it, sure. But with Bang Chan, every moment felt more intimate. Every smile, every laugh or brush of the hand. Was this what becoming friends felt like?

Other than these intrusive thoughts, the rest of your time was taken up by work. Although you were starting to get the hang of your tasks, there were still many mistakes made. Mistakes in which you had to profusely apologize to Manager Chen for, that you had to stay late nights to fix, mistakes which made you almost lose your mind. You hoped that Manager Chen could see your dedication to not only this project, but your job as a whole.

In the duration of this week, you managed to check in with every department involved with the project and partake in the finalization of the Mid-Autumn Festival content idea. It was decided that the group would do three activities: make lanterns, bake mooncakes, and share a fire while watching the moon. All while in the mountains.

You were surprised when Manager Chen asked you to come along to the shooting despite your inexperience. However, it wasn’t a chance you were going to pass up.

The week was hectic. So hectic, that you didn’t even realize it was almost over until Na-eun brought it up.

“Ugh, I wish I could just steal a whole tray of this food home,” you rolled your eyes. The two of you were raving once again at the cafeteria food. You wished you actually knew how to cook.

“Can you not cook?” She asked.

“I can fry an egg,” you said, stuffing more rice in your mouth.

“My six year old niece can do that,” she laughed. Her eyes widened. “What if I come over tonight and teach you? We’ll make fried rice, even you can’t screw that up.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “I would, but I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

Na-eun gave you a deadpan look.

“How were you able to stay alive for the past couple weeks? At least you got skinner.” She sneered. “We’ll stop by the grocery store after work, I’ll teach you the bare minimum of living alone.”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Right after you clocked out of work, you met up with Na-eun to go shopping. You decided to take out some cash to pay for your groceries, an action that Na-eun found hilarious. She was almost crying as she explained that a few groceries didn’t cost as much as you thought.

Your trip was successful. The two of you made it all the way back to your apartment and didn’t waste a second to get started. Halfway through setting things up, Na-eun got a text.

“Hey, is it okay if Yoojin comes? I guess she got jealous that I was here with you and she wasn’t.” She chuckled.

“Of course,” you eagerly nodded. “But, wouldn’t it be hard to get here with her injury?”

“What injury?”

“You know,” you continued, “her ankle.”

“She seemed fine to me.” Na-eun said as she started on the rice.

“Maybe she healed fast.” You shrugged.

“Maybe,” she shrugged back and returned to her task.

You texted Yoojin your address, and it wasn’t long before she was knocking at your door. You opened your door, and she immediately leaped at you for a hug.

“Oh, Y/n! I’m still so sorry for that day, I honestly feel horrible.” She pouted, her big eyes staring at you for a response.

“It’s really nothing, Yoojin.” You tried to sound casual. You let her in your apartment. “But, doesn’t your ankle hurt? There’s a lot of stairs coming up.”

“Oh, uhm, the doctor said it was only a minor injury.” She paused. “And I heal fast.”

“That’s good,” you smiled, patting her shoulder.

“But I still feel so bad, Y/n.” She whined. “Lemme make it up to you. I’ll set you up with this really hot guy I know. He’s a law student. You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“Kim Yoojin!” Na-eun yelled.

“How about it? You’re free tomorrow, right?” Yoojin looked at you, ignoring Na-eun.

“I guess so,” you hesitantly agreed, “since it’s the weekend tomorrow.”

“Great!” Yoojin wrapped her arms around you, jumping up and down. “I’ll text you everything tonight.”

Yoojin kept up with her promise. After the three of you stuffed yourselves with good food, your two friends decided to leave before it got too dark. It was just a bit later when Yoojin’s text came through. You were to have dinner with this man called Kang Taehyun at an Italian restaurant tomorrow. Although you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of eating pasta, you figured you could withstand it for one night on the basis of trying something new.

You didn’t know how you felt about going on this date. Although you were excited to meet somebody new, something just felt off. Plus, you’ve never been on a blind date before. Who knows how good Yoojin’s judge of character was, or if this guy was like anything that Yoojin described.

You sighed, putting those thoughts aside. It was just a one time thing anyways, and who knows? Maybe this could lead to something. You looked over at Bang Chan’s hoodie. His warm hoodie that smelled so much like him. You should return it soon.

It was almost like he read your mind. As soon as you looked away, your phone rang with a call from Bang Chan.

“Hello?” You picked up.

“Hey, did you find your jacket?” He asked. You were surprised he still remembered.

“No… not yet.” You drifted off.

“Oh. We’ll keep looking for it, yeah? I’ll just buy you a new one if you can’t find it.”

You giggled. A couple seconds of silence passed.

“My shoot ends at six tomorrow. Wanna go to that barbecue place I was talking about?” He asked.

That’s right. Bang Chan couldn’t stop raving about that barbecue restaurant the whole week. He was really excited as his diet would end when he was done with his photoshoot, and he was apparently craving meat the whole time. All his praise made you very eager to see what the hype was all about.

You were about to eagerly accept, but then you remembered the date you had just planned not even a moment earlier. “Can we go another time? I… kinda have a blind date tomorrow.”

A few more seconds passed before you heard Bang Chan’s voice again.

“Blind date?”

“Yeah, my friend set it up. We’re going to this Italian place. Apparently he’s a really nice and handsome guy. He’s a law student, too.”

“Wha- law student? Y/n, are you sure you should be going on a blind date now? I mean, you just got here. You don’t know the city that well and you don’t even like pasta. What if he’s dangerous?” Bang Chan scoffed, his words got faster with each sentence.

“Chan, it’s okay. You don’t need to worry, I’ll be safe. Plus, I trust my friend.”

“You mean your friend you only just met?”

Silence.

“I only just met you as well.” You spat, slightly insulted that he would speak like that about Yoojin.

There was more silence that lingered.

“Whatever. Have fun on your date.” Bang Chan spat back, his harsh tone matching yours. Right after he said that, he hung up.

You looked angrily at your phone. Frowning, you threw your phone on your bed. Who was he to get angry at you for having a blind date? You recognized the dangers of meeting somebody new, but you trusted Yoojin. You were confident that Yoojin was honest about Taehyun.

A boyfriend would be nice too. Ever since your last relationship early in your university career, you haven’t had the best luck with men. It could have been because of how closed off your old friend group was. Your friends stayed consistent ever since you were young, and it was way too awkward to date a friend. You also found yourself way too closed off to go out and meet any new people.

Yes, tomorrow would be a good experience, you told yourself.

The next day, the hours leading up to your date felt like they had passed way too fast. The call with Bang Chan from last night still lingered on your tongue like sour candy, but you were determined to push past that in order to get ready on your date. After all, you didn’t want any frown lines to show.

You were excited to get ready. The amount of time it took to do both your hair and makeup was embarrassingly long, as you wanted everything to look just right for tonight. You didn’t want a hair to be out of place. You also took your sweet time to pick an outfit. Although the skirt you picked out probably wasn’t fit for the fall weather, you stuck with it anyways, choosing to layer a jacket over your outfit. One of your non-burnt jackets.

Double checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you locked the door and headed out. The streets were busy tonight. They were filled with people of all ages trying to relax from their tiring week.

Finding the restaurant wasn’t a hassle as the place was conveniently located at one of the busiest streets for weekend night-life. Dim yellow lights illuminated the tall glass windows just enough for you to see just the shadows of people enjoying their Saturday night. Green vines wrapped around the building, twirling and twisting their way around every crevice available. You tried not to fiddle with your thumbs as you nervously entered the lavish looking Italian restaurant.

“Hello, table for Kang Taehyun?” You asked the hostess. She showed you to a little table right beside a window. It was illuminated by a single candle, and already had two glasses of wine placed on it. And sitting at the table, hands crossed in front of him, was a hideously gorgeous man.

He looked like something out of a drama, really. With his tall nose and his sharp jaw, you struggled to convince yourself that this was a real man. His hands looked twice the size of yours.

“Hi, Y/n?” He asked. “I’m Kang Taehyun.”

He smiled and gestured for you to sit in the empty chair in front of him. You politely greeted him back and sat down. The two of you made some small talk before ordering. He made some suggestions on what to order, but you didn’t really care. You knew you wouldn’t like any of the pastas anyway. Plus, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t be drinking alcohol in front of strangers again.

“I’m surprised you agreed to this date.” You said, awkwardly laughing. “Isn’t a law student supposed to be really busy, especially around this time?”

“Well, I’m mainly doing this as a favour for Yoojin. She helped me with one of my classes.” He took a swig of his wine. “That girl is crazy smart. Or should I say crazy, but smart?”

“Oh?” You didn't want to admit that you were a bit disappointed he only agreed because of a favour. But he was being honest, so that was fair. What he said about Yoojin, though, took you by surprise.

“I’ve only heard rumors,” he tilted his head, “but some say that once in first year she went crazy over a guy. Started stalking him and everything. Apparently she even burned all his textbooks just because he started talking to another girl. They weren’t even dating.”

Your eyes widened at the allegations. There was no way any of that was true. You couldn’t imagine Yoojin — sweet, sweet Yoojin — to be capable of anything like that. There was no way her big puppy dog eyes and her fluffy hair could hurt a soul.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” You asked.

“I mean, the guy was put into a mental hospital shortly after everything happened,” he shrugged, “so who knows? Maybe he made everything up in his head.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded your head in agreement. Some of your hair fell on your pasta. You blushed, quickly trying to dab the sauce away using a napkin.

“You know Y/n,” Taehyun chuckled, “you’re cute. You’re not my type. I mean, I’ve only ever dated models before, but maybe it’s time to start settling down since I’ll be working at the firm soon.”

Thanks, I guess? You thought. You honestly didn’t know if that was a compliment or a jab, but either way you felt slightly insulted. You didn’t know how to reply to that, but it didn’t take long before Taehyun started again.

“I mean, look at my ex,” he said as he pulled up a picture of his ex-girlfriend on Instagram. She looked flawless in her bikini. “There’s no way I could actually marry somebody like that, right?”

If he says ‘I mean’ one more time… You thought to yourself. This date was turning south fast. This man was extremely handsome — almost god-like — but every word that left his mouth was poison infused arrogance. You didn’t know which was worse: listening to the man in front of you talk about his ex, or eating the pasta that was ordered by him.

You tried your best to stay polite with him for the rest of the evening. It was hard, though, as his cocky personality kept poking you down the whole time. It wasn’t until you finally separated that you had space to breathe. Great, you were left both hungry and annoyed.

Turning the lights on in your home, you sat at the kitchen table, still annoyed over your bad night. You took out your phone, wanting to scroll through the food delivery apps to find something to eat. Your thumbs began drifting.

No, stop. You silently begged yourself. Please, not tonight.

Your body didn’t seem to listen to your mind, however, as your thumb stayed hovering over Bang Chan’s contact. You pleaded to yourself to not press it, but your fingers seemed to have an agenda of their own. You pressed his contact. The phone call started.

One ring. Two rings.

“Hello, Y/n?”

You were shocked. He wasn’t supposed to pick up. Not after how poorly your last conversation went. You didn’t know what to say.

“Chan, how was the photoshoot?” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t expect him to even pick up.

“It went great — feels good that it’s over, though.” He chuckled.

You wanted to tell him about your date: how arrogant Taehyun was, how fancy the restaurant was, how nasty the pasta was. You wanted to say all that, but tonight it seemed like your body just wouldn’t cooperate with your mind. And sure enough, you caught your mouth running before your mind. But this time, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Chan,” you took a deep breath, “wanna come over?”

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz imagines #skz scenarios

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: If The Bunker Had Windows Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x female reader Words: ±5250 words Description: When a Djinn case doesn’t go as planned, not everyone makes it. Dean, who is burdened by guilt, holes himself up alone in his room for days, until Y/N comes in to check on him. Will the girl who was his perfect world be able to pull him back from the darkness? Warnings: Angst/comfort. Mutual pining, some fluff. Description of canon typical violence and supernatural creatures. Mentions of injury, death and alcohol abuse. Depression, refusal to eat, grieving, crying. Satisfying ending. Author’s note: A one shot that will punch you in the feels, according to my betas @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Always grateful for you girls helping me out! And to my readers, I hope you enjoy my reading, thank you for your support.

Serenity floats through the halls of the Men of Letters headquarters, like the morning mist on an autumn day. If the bunker had windows, the sun would have shone diagonal beams through the glass, warm and welcome, but instead it’s the light from the vintage table lamps that give this home its glow.

Y/N moves down the hall towards the galley, her sock covered feet softly padding against the marble floors. Despite her stealth approach, Sam is waiting for her to appear in the doorway, his eyes already lifted from the tablet that lays flat on the mahogany table. “Morning,” he greets, continuing to swipe through news articles, in his search for a case. “Coffee’s brewing.”

She descends down the two steps and sets foot into the kitchen, the aroma of roasted beans flooding her senses. The night hasn’t been without worries and all the more without sleep, so she can use a good dose of caffeine. “Thanks,” she returns.

After pouring herself a generous amount of the dark beverage, her thoughts wander off to the other inhabitant of this oddly cosy concrete structure. Dean’s absence is obnoxiously evident, the air not filled with grumpy mutters before he had his coffee, neither with a lame joke that he found on the back of the cereal box, that only he finds funny. With a deep sigh, she turns around with her favorite mug in her hand, resting against the counter. “Has he come out of his room yet?”

Sam’s jaw flexes, the tall giant with a gentle heart glancing over. He doesn’t even have to shake his head for Y/N to know the answer. Shutting her eyes for a few seconds, she takes a sip from her hot drink, burning her tongue, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the pain she knows Dean is in.

It’s been three days since the brothers returned from a particularly tough hunt. She remembers Sam’s voice hollering through the bunker, and she instantly realized that something terrible had happened. When she found the Winchesters in the garage, Dean leaning on his sibling and barely able to stay on his feet, the air was stolen from her lungs. His skin was paler than those of the spirits she has faced and he seemed barely conscious. His eyes beheld an emptiness that faded the forest green of his irises, leaving nothing but a shallowness that reminded her of death, even though his heart was still faintly beating.

A Djinn had gotten to him, and by the time Sam found his brother, strung up to the ceiling of the monster’s den, he was barely alive. It was too late for the young college student who the hunters were hoping to save, her corpse dangling in shackles next to Dean, drained of blood and life. She was all but a grim memoir of their failure, a reminder of the fate that would have befallen the hunter, had the younger Winchester sibling not found him.

Back home, Sam and Y/N carried Dean to the infirmary and thankfully got a hold of Castiel, who came to the rescue as fast as he could. The angel might not be at full power, but he was able to pull his friend away from the reaper, who was without a doubt waiting to claim his soul like the vultures that they are.

Even though Cas glued the shattered shards back together until Dean was physically whole again, something inside him remains damaged beyond repair. The mighty hunter, who faces his enemies head on and with guns blazing, who laughs Death in the face, is defeated, and there is not much the cosmic being can do to change that. A broken body is much easier to heal than a broken mind.

Y/N puts her empty coffee mug aside and exhales, coming back to the present. “Did he eat, at least?” she wonders, a desperate hopefulness in her pitch. Again, Sam shakes his head. “He left dinner by the door without touching it. I’m sorry.” The younger Winchester doesn’t have to apologize, after all, it’s not his fault that the food was left untouched. Yet, he knows their female companion had put a lot of effort in making Dean his favorite burgers, hoping it would persuade him. “It’s okay, Sam,” she assures, forcing a smile.

While the younger Winchester brother returns his attention to his tablet, Y/N takes a moment to collect herself. She then turns to the kitchen counter and crouches down, taking a large frying pan from the lower cabinets. After lighting up the stove and carefully placing a second ceramic pot on the fire, the bunker’s second best cook opens the refrigerator and collects a carton of eggs, milk, bacon and cheese.

Sam watches her move around the galley, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” “I’m making Dean breakfast,” she states, matter of factly. The hunter sighs, pity evident in the soft exhale. “Y/N--” “I have to try, Sam.” She cuts him off, the tremble in her voice noticeable.

Their eyes meet when the woman glances over her shoulder, still stirring the milk and eggs in a bowl. The younger Winchester is well aware that this meal will most likely end in the trash like the others, but he understands why she feels the need to take care of his brother. It’s her way of letting Dean know that she’s not giving up on him, no matter how thick the fog grows in the mind of the tormented hunter. It’s her way of keeping busy and doing something, anything, because watching from the sidelines while someone suffers, is not in her nature. Especially not when that person is Dean, the man who she cares so much for, more than she would like to admit.

Sam’s lips press into a thin line, the corners reaching up slightly. The crow’s feet by his eyes wrinkle and become a little deeper, despite the brown hair that frames his gentle expression. She and Sam have been friends for a long time and often don’t need words anymore. With just a look, he explained that he sympathizes with her, and that he’s thankful for her efforts.

She returns his small smile and focuses on her cooking again, laying out the bacon into the hot frying pan, watching the meat as it starts to sizzle.

Twenty minutes later, Y/N walks down the hallway towards the dorms, a tray in her hands decked out with scrambled eggs, french toast and a fresh cup of coffee. Before the first room on the right, she halts, staring at the golden ‘11’ on the wooden barrier in front of her. Contemplating if she should leave the warm meal on the threshold or not, she looks down at her feet. “Dean?” she calls out, hesitant. “Is it alright if I come in?”

Her question remains unanswered, only fueling her doubt. Is he sleeping? Would she be crossing a line if she enters? Of course she wants to grant him his privacy, but he has been cooped up in there for three days now, without food, without social interaction. There have been many times when she was worried sick about the hunter who has already endured so much, and these past days only add to that count. What is the right approach here? Give him more time?

Closing himself off and pushing down the agony is his go-to coping mechanism, and although it isn’t a healthy one, she always respected the space he needed to move past the pain. She’s used to him being quiet, taking the Impala for late night drives, drinking more than usual and sleeping less. But at least he came out of his room, at least he ate. Now, everything is different.

Before she can reconsider, she balances the tray in one hand, freeing the other to reach for the brass knob. Carefully, she pushes the door ajar, allowing the light from the hallway to bleed into Dean’s room. The state in which she finds the resilient soldier, who courageously charges into battle and has won wars on strength and will alone, almost brings her to tears. He’s in his bed, curled up on the far left of the mattress, leaving the empty space next to him vacant. His back is turned towards her as he lays in a fetal position, the comforter pulled up over his shoulder. The darkness that surrounds him only seems fitting for his frail state of mind.

Y/N isn’t sure if the older Winchester brother is even awake, since he fails to respond to her presence, but she steps into the shadows nonetheless. “Dean? I brought breakfast,” she announces, softly enough that if he is sleeping, her words will not wake him.

The broken form in the bed shifts slightly. She might not realize it, but Dean has heard her, and has done every single time she has brought him something to eat. Her light footfalls passing his room, the hesitation on his doorstep, the soft knocks on the wood, the sigh when she turned away again. A part of him was glad she never came in before, yet at the same time, he was fighting the urge to call out, craving her company, her touch. Anything even remotely close to the way she was with him in his dreams, when held captive.

“I’m not hungry,” he croaks, his voice failing after not having used it for so long. “You’ve got to eat something,” she tries again. “It’s been a couple of days.”

The beaten hunter turns into his pillow, leaving the woman who intends to make him feel better by the door. A shuddering breath falls from her lips, one laced with disappointment and frustration. He should be used to letting people down by now, but it still stings. Struggling to not give in to his own longing, he opens his weary eyes and stares at the empty bottle on his nightstand, the whiskey it once beheld long gone.

Dean expects her to leave. It would do him justice, because he doesn’t deserve such kindness. But instead, he can hear her shuffle closer. She makes room on the side table, putting the remnants of his self medication down on the floor, the glass thudding softly on the stone surface, and sets down a tray. The smell of bacon fills his nose, and even though his stomach growls in response, he is sure the food would turn to ash in his mouth. Nothing can still the hunger that this perfect dream stirred up. Nothing can fill the hole in his gut that has only grown larger since Sam pulled him away from the world created by the Djinn he was supposed to kill.

He gave in to a fairy tale, even though he is well aware they are make-believe. He couldn’t leave that utopia, because for once, he just wanted to be happy. Instead of stepping up and slaying the monster at the end of the book, he was selfish, weak, and a girl died because of it.

His self-destructive chain of thought is interrupted when the bed dips down, Y/N taking up the small space on the edge of the mattress. Her delicate hand reaches for him, moving his tousled hair from his forehead, running her fingers through his light brown locks. Closing his eyes, he swallows with difficulty, biting down to keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t want her to see him in this state, to see the fucked up train wreck that he is.

“Talk to me,” she says softly, her whisper breaking the silence, but Dean shakes his head. “I can’t,” he returns, hoarse. “You should go.” She stands her ground. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tired hunter doesn’t have the energy to argue, and for a while, they just are. Dean on his side, huddled under the comforter, Y/N right next to him, one leg pulled under her, the other dangling from the edge of the bed. The motions of her gentle caressing almost lulls him to sleep, but he doesn’t allow unconsciousness to take him. The second he drifts off, he will be faced with either the same old horrific nightmares he has gotten used to, or return to the dream that will never be. Waking up from either will be too devastating for him to handle.

Wishing she could offer him any kind of solace, Y/N allows her thumb to rub his temple, cupping his handsome face gingerly. The action draws his weary eyes to meet hers for the first time this morning. The slight improvement should be a relief, yet it is anything but. The sorrow that swims in his gaze breaks her heart.

“It isn’t your fault,” she offers, her words so soft, that if the room hadn’t been draped in silence, the hunter would have missed it. Dean looks away, however, shaking his head slightly, unable to accept her comfort. “It is. I could’ve snapped out of it.”

The woman by his bedside furrows her brow, her expression soft and sympathetic. Why does he expect the impossible from himself? Why does he have to rescue everyone on this earth? No one can live up to that, not even the hero that he is. It’s a burden too heavy to bear for any being, a responsibility that sets him up to fail, because he can’t save them all. He would always beat himself up, whenever they would lose an innocent during a hunt, but this time there’s more to it. This time he can’t get up.

“A Djinn put you under. How could you have known it was a dream?” she says, trying to help him see that this blame is not his to take. “That’s the thing,” he sighs, the air that flows from his lungs substantial with regret and remorse. “I was aware it wasn’t real. I just… I didn’t wanna wake.”

Without pausing, her gentle touch traces the scruff on his cheek as she analyses his words that raise so many questions. If he knew what he was experiencing was indeed a fantasy, then why didn’t his hunter instincts kick in? Coming back from a coma as such is anything but easy. Yet just like with a vivid nightmare, once one realizes the terrors are nothing but a manifestation of their deepest fears, they can fight their way back to the surface. What could Dean have possibly seen that would keep him from coming home? “What did you dream about?” she wonders.

His focus turns in a thousand yard stare, as if he can see it all again. Every reason that made him decide to lay down his weapons when the creature captured him. Every experience that was so tentative, that he was ready to swap that reverie for reality. Every vision, every touch, every smile, every laugh. Every wish come true. It is right there, just out of reach, displayed behind the glass that encases his memories, reminding him of what will never be.

“Mom, Dad... they were alive,” Dean begins, the recollections causing his eyes to shimmer. “Your parents too. Sammy was married to Jess. She was pregnant.”

Y/N listens to the fallen hunter breathlessly, trying not to blink, because she knows it would force the tears to fall from her lashes. Slowly, it begins to dawn on her why he couldn’t find his way back.

“There were no monsters, we didn’t hunt. Sam was a lawyer, I owned an auto shop. We had family barbecues, dinner during thanksgiving. It was…” he lets out a shuddering breath, drops brewed by bittersweet reminiscence rolling down from the corner of his eye. “It was simple, peaceful, without the constant worry. No sorrow, no regret. And you, the way you were smiling… I’ve never seen you glow like that.”

He breaks away from the perfect vision, glancing at the woman who he got to call his in that dream. The woman who he lived with, in a house by a lake, with a back porch looking out over the water. The woman who he married and gave him two beautiful children. The woman who he loves, and in that perfect world he allowed to love him back.

Dean tries to swallow down the painful lump that obstructs his throat as a hint of a smile tucks at the corner of his mouth. He could tell her all that, but it wouldn’t do her any good. In fact, that illusion might break her, just like it broke him. Instead, he allows a final sentence to fall from his lips, but the emotion that has closed around his airway only allows a whisper. “We were so happy.”

Tears find their way down Y/N’s face, leaving shimmering pathways in their wake. Not a word has left her, not even the smallest sound. She doesn’t trust her voice to ease his dreadful affliction.

It makes sense now, why he couldn’t bring himself to pop that bubble. What Dean experienced, it sounds perfect. It is the definition of heaven, not just for him, but for all the people he cares about. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that the selfless man only wants what’s best for his family, eliminating his personal desires, but it moves her nonetheless. Their happiness, her happiness, is Dean’s. It’s only then that his choice of words begins to settle in her conscience. “We?”

Confusion adds to all the emotions that pass by in her misty eyes like frames of a silent film. The hunter’s gaze meets hers again, and he’s not sure if he should be terrified or relieved when he sees that puzzlement transition into comprehension. The puckered lines between her brows even out as her mouth opens slightly, her eyes growing larger, boring into his soul. “We were together,” she realizes.

Dean doesn’t have to confirm, it wasn’t a question after all. She has figured it out already, and that conclusion now hovers between them, neither of the two knowing what to do with the revelation. “Doesn’t matter,” he eventually whispers. “It was just a dream.”

The downhearted conclusion has Y/N tilt her head to the side, watching the man who she has loved ever since she met him. The memory is one she holds dear, the wide grin he flashed after witnessing her taking down two vampires with a machete, before he and his brothers even got the chance to make the kill. She didn’t think she needed saving, but when his emerald greens took her in, she felt a warmth flair in her heart. He did in fact rescue her that day, and now it was her turn to rescue him. Y/N breathes in, because in order to do so, she needs to be brave.

Her left hand reaches for his, which is holding onto the pillow under his head. She takes it, unfolding his clenched fist, and laces their fingers together. “It doesn’t have to be,” she speaks softly.

For a few seconds Dean beholds their entwinement, astounded by the gesture. Is she doing this because she feels sorry for him? Because she’s worried that her resentment would send him further into the dark? But when he glances up at her, the look she gives him stuns the hunter. There’s no pity, nor desperation. All he sees is a softness in her beautiful eyes, a calmness that tells him that it’s alright, that she knows, and that she feels the same way.

“Y/N...” he utters, unable to let go of her hand, but not ready to close her palm in his a little tighter. “We can’t. It’s only gonna end sad and bloody.” She shrugs at that, running her thumb over his rough skin, the motion soothing them both. “Maybe,” she agrees, “but denying this, not giving in to what we feel, isn’t that worse?”

His chest rises and falls slowly, his focus now locked on their hands again, while the woman still seated on the side of his bed holds her breath. It’s almost as if he’s too scared to look at her, aware how fragile this moment is. They are at a crossroads, and depending on the direction he decides to take, this instant might remain just that, a jiff, or it might be the start of something new, yet terrifying.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Dean sighs, fresh tears glistening though his long lashes.

Swallowing with difficulty, Y/N looks down, sniveling. She can feel him slipping through her fingers like sand in an hourglass, every passing second taking the battered hunter further away. But before she loses him all together, she strengthens her hold. “I know you don’t,” she acknowledges, “but having to look back at some point, realizing we missed our shot and watched that ship sail by, that would cause me so much pain, that I--”

The whimper that falls from her lips, draws his gaze up to study her expression. She’s crying silently, her mouth firmly closed in a thin line. The woman who goes out her way to make him feel better, is breaking in front of him because of his doing, and it hurts him more than anything he has felt in the past three days. Instinctively, he frees himself from her hold, only to take her small hand in his palm, protectively wrapping his fingers around hers. The reassurance gives her just enough strength to continue her plea.

“After everything we’ve been through, the losses, the sacrifices. Hell, multiple apocalypses…” she begins, barely able to grasp how many battles they have survived. “We deserve this.”

There is not a doubt in the hunter’s mind that Y/N has earned all the happiness the universe can offer, but him? No, he hasn’t. People have died because of him, lives ruined, families torn apart. He has made too many mistakes, and no amount of good deeds could set the record straight. “Why would you wanna be with me?” he huffs, shaking his head slightly. “I’m such a fuckin’ mess...”

Y/N takes him in, the man who has never believed he was good enough for anything. There is not a monster on this planet that could hate Dean more than he hates himself. If only he could see how Sam looks up to his big brother, how proud he would have made his parents, if they had still been alive. If only he could see her, and know how much she loves him.

Taking a bold step, she begins to lower herself, leaning towards him. The action is rushed, afraid that the coward inside of her might alter the course, but once her lips meet Dean’s, she stills. She can sense him freezing against her and panic jolts through her body, the fear of rejection almost having Y/N pull back herself. But then he eases, his mouth moving with hers. The kiss is short and light. Neither of them intends to deepen the touch, the gesture adding enough depth to the situation as it is.

When she opens her eyes, his are still closed. Almost as if he was still in the Djinn’s hold, and can’t let go of the bliss that surrounds him. A small smile adorns her soft features as she waits for him to look at her, which he only does when she lovingly brushes her nose against his.

While his focus bounces over her features, taking in every perfect imperfection that makes the woman before him so unmistakably her, he mirrors her smile. No one wants to disturb this precious moment, but Dean has to let out the breath he was holding for some time. He shifts his head against the pillow, watching how Y/N pulls his hand closer, pressing her lips to the knuckles, lovingly.

“I’m a mess too,” she admits. “I’m just as scared, Dean. But, together it might just get a little more bearable. I know I’m just a fraction of that dream--” “- Y/N.” The hunter stops her then and there, pushing himself off the mattress on his elbow. He might not think of himself as worthy, but he will not stand for her effacing her own purpose. The interruption silences her instantly, her wondering eyes still glossed over with emotion, awaiting. Now it’s his time to be brave.

He doesn’t let go of her hand, nor of her gaze. He doesn’t let go of the woman he wants to spend his remaining days with, no matter how many or how few. “You are so much more than a fraction,” he expresses, heartfelt.

Having made up his mind, Dean sits up and reaches for her, the warm shade of green only hooded by closing lids when his mouth finds hers. He allows himself to graze over her soft lips, drinking in the one person who he has longed for, but never expected to be with. The sensation that erupts in his stomach once the kiss intensifies is the equivalent to a firework show, the bright colors and sparks lighting up the black skies. Euphoria overwhelms him, the same sense that flooded his conscience when the Djinn lured the hunter into that heavenly hallucination. This is a dream too, and yet it isn’t, because this, this is real.

The kiss leaves Y/N breathless, yet she is able to sense his warm hand coming up her side and sliding around her back to settle between her shoulder blades, hugging her tight without ever removing his lips from hers. Finally, they are here. After months, years of denial, they are ready to give themselves to each other. Sometimes you need to lose all that isn’t, to appreciate what is.

She has to pull every string not to cry in elation, but can’t stop the drops of emotion from rolling down. When Dean feels the wetness against his own cheeks, he reluctantly breaks the connection, cupping her face worriedly. “Hey…” he hushes. She shakes her head, dismissing his concern, and laughs through the tears. “I’m okay. I’m just - I’m so happy right now, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

A twinkle reaches her eyes, making it impossible for Dean to look away. He never thought he would be able to witness her so content, let alone have her admit it out loud. Not in this world, anyway. An image of the custom made dream forged by the Djinn pushes itself to the forefront, Y/N on the porch of their house, comfortable in his arms, absolutely beaming. When he awoke from that coma, he thought that the illusion couldn’t be further from reality, but he was wrong. “I’ve seen that smile before,” he says warmly.

Y/N grin grows even wider at that, but before she can ask what the man who she just revealed her affections to means, a rumble rises from Dean’s stomach, causing them both to drop their gaze to where the sound is coming from. Once she realizes what caused it, she giggles, and it’s the greatest harmony Dean has ever heard.

“You must be starving,” she comments while wiping her tears, hoping he will finally take in some food after having gone three days without it. “I could eat,” he admits with a chuckle. “Well, it’s a good thing I made you scrambled eggs with cheese and extra bacon then.” She straightens her back and shifts to the edge of the bed, taking the tray with both hands. “Scoot.”

Dean pushes himself up further and sits back against the headboard, his mouth watering when Y/N sets the platter over his lap. Only now does he realize how hungry he truly is. He picks up the cutlery and cuts off some toast, overloading it with egg before he has a mouthful, the delicious meal still warm on his tongue. “Take it easy, okay? Wouldn’t want you to get sick,” she says kindly, reaching for him and rubbing her thumb over his stubble. He looks up at here before taking a bite of the strip of meat, his eyes having gained some of that boyish sparkle again. Relieved by the sight, Y/N watches him, glad that she finally managed to get his spirits up.

“You want some?” Dean checks with his mouth full, pushing the plate of bacon in her direction. She frowns at that. “Since when do you share food?” “Since now, and only with you,” he admits. “Don’t tell Sam.”

They share a laugh and continue to eat in silence until the dishes are so clean, they barely need washing. The pair leave the darkness of room ‘11’, Dean heading for the showers, Y/N turning the corner towards the kitchen. With a spring in her step, the giddy woman makes her way through the hallways of the enormous building. The tray in her hands feels much lighter, and not just because of the cleared plates she’s carrying.

With a smirk on her lips, she hops down the steps into the galley, finding Sam by the fridge, who is restocking it with the groceries he just picked up. It’s not until he notices the empty dishes which she sets down on the counter, that his gaze shoots up to their female companion’s joyful eyes. “He ate?” he asks, hopeful. “He did,” Y/N smiles, dropping the plates in the sink. “He’s feeling much better, he’s freshening up now.” The younger Winchester continues to stare at her in awe, stammering something intellectual, before he pauses and blinks a couple of times. “What happened?” he can’t help but wonder, surprised by his brother’s improvement.

She remains silent for a few seconds while she runs the tap and adds dish soap to the hot water. What took place in his room is hard to explain. It required a long list of events, building up to this disclosure. It involved Dean opening up about what he went through, comfortable enough to share his grief and let it out. It included them both being fearless after being scared for so long. It comprehended two individuals, growing together, taking a leap to cross a gap that seemed impossible to overcome.

“He let the light in,” she states simply, meeting Sam with a meaningful smile.

Grateful, the tall hunter huffs in astonishment, before he closes her in a hug and presses a kiss on her hair, not needing words to tell just how appreciative he is of her presence. He assists her and takes up the task of drying the dishes, the two friends working side by side to finish the chore. They are storing away the plates, the noise of the china being stacked in the cupboards allowing Dean to wait in the doorway without being spotted just yet. He’s freshly showered, wearing his dark grey robe over comfortable clothes, leaning against the post and taking in the woman who has turned his life around.

If the bunker had windows, the sun would have shone brightly. The late morning rays would come in through the portals to the outside world, illuminating their home. The beams would have been warm and healing, burning away sadness and discomfort, like it would melt the snow on the last days of winter.

But the bunker doesn’t need windows. The bunker has her.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

#Dean Winchester oneshot #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester #Dean oneshot #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x y/n #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural fanfiction #If The Bunker Had Windows #Kate Huntington

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beau-draws-and-cries · 3 years

Text

Third-first kiss - Raeda oneshot

Summary: Raine and Eda finally are reunited

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Tags: Mutual pining, fluff, yearning

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33629347

Raine wouldn't wake up and that was driving Eda crazy. The tattoo had paralyzed them and to get rid of the red vine-like stuff, they had to scrape the tattoo with fire magic, their wrist still healing from the burn, wrapped in bandages and healing herbs. They briefly woke up when rescued, just to register what was happening and then passed out, to stay 4 days like that, and that was making her bite her inner cheek and lips, walk around the house like crazy and check on them every ten minutes or so.

When asked about who they were (besides a coven head) Eda just blurted out that they were old friends, but King and Luz obviously caught on something more intimate than that for the way she would touch their cheek and gently rubbed it (then feel bad about it and get away from them for approximately 7 minutes and 34 seconds), and the way she kneeled besides the couch they were in and softly ask then to please, please wake up.

Eda wouldn't deny she was losing hope over being reunited with them again. Of course she wouldn't get nice things, nothing never worked out for her. She was cursed, not only as the Owl Beast, but to be alone forever, because she just wasn't good enough for things like this. Not good enough to have someone as sweet as Raine with her.

"Hey, Eda." Luz called her "How are they?"

"Their breath is steady.... Also heartbeat. But they haven't woken up yet." She muttered, looking at their face. God, they were so lovely without their glasses. They sure got old, but they still were cute (and hot) as hell, Eda hated to admit it. They seemed to get old in a much healthier way than Eda (after all, the curse made her look older than she was) and they still had that spark of life they had when Eda dated them back in their young years.

God, they were so handsome.

King sat down beside her, with a book on demonics that Luz checked out from the library for him.

"We decided to check on them with you! I brought a book."

Eda sighed, petting King.

"Thank you, King."

When the night fell, Luz got her sleeping bag and put it near the couch, and Eda installed her blankets beside her. King cuddled on Luz and fell asleep quickly, and Luz, who had promised to stay awake to make company to Eda, ended up dozing off.

But Eda couldn't sleep.

She decided then to talk to the Owl Beast, to make sure they wouldn't freak out and turn into owl beast when Raine eventually ditched them (because that was what Eda had sure about Raine, that after that terrible breakup,they would never love her again) and she would have to be Raine's friend and ex. Agh, thinking about it before didn't make the possibility any better. She closed her eyes.

Owl beast? She called, afraid. Listen, you know Raine. Last time they broke up with us, you freaked out and that made them go away. Raine saying they don't want to be with us isn't the end of the world, ok? Please, let's try to remain calm. I don't wanna lose them again.

The owl beast seemed to pay attention. They made an agreeing sound that was a deep snarl, they were talking more lately, even on regular days.

She ended up dozing off while that, sitting down, with her head near Raine's arm.

She dreamt of Raine again. The dream was less real than the ones she had drugged, but they were still real enough to make her heart ache at the possibility of being together with Raine again. Now she had her own owlets (adopted, not hers hers, but still her owlets and she would kill for Luz and King), and she dreamt of a calm life with Raine. Maybe even another adopted owlet, if they wished for. She would do anything to make Raine stay, she would be honest at every step she took, she would tell the truth and the truth only, she didn't care what, she would do it---

There was something playing with her hair when she woke up. She barely registered, thinking it was King.

"Eda? Is that you?" The voice was hoarse, kinda weird, but Eda would recognize that voice anywhere. She woke up quickly, looking at Raine.

"Raine?" Her voice trembled with emotion, almost becoming a sob.

"Good morning, Calamity." They muttered, coughing a bit "Missed me?"

"RAINSTORM!" She sobbed, jumping on the couch to hug them, ending up on top of a very giggly and blushed Raine "Oh my god I missed you so much I thought I was going to--- I thought I would never see you again, Raine, oh my Titan, I will hug you tight and never let go again." She was interrupted by sobs, Raine hugging back tightly as well, huge tears streaming down their face.

(The last time she saw tears this size was when they had a fight while drunk)

But now they were happy to be reunited, and when they stopped the reunion, Eda blushed and got away from them.

(But not that much, she couldn’t stand the idea of being distant once again. A hand still was on their cheek)

"Sorry, I got carried away."

"Hey, it's no problem." Raine muttered, blushed as well.

(Raine couldn't deny that this was the person he most loved on the world and they would do anything to have her again)

"Do you need something? Water, food, violin, to kill who hurted you?" She joked. Old Eda was back, smiling widely and still wiping tears.

(Gosh, she was so pretty, so breathtaking.)

"I would like some food and water. I am feeling like the saddest raisin you have ever seen." Raine chuckled, trying to look around. Eda helped them to sit up on the couch, by hugging them and slowly bringing them up.

(The contact made both blush and Raine was holding back from kissing her)

Luz woke up during that, and she gasped.

"THEY'RE AWAKE!" She commemorated it.

"Awake and apparently alive." Raine smiled, recognizing Luz from Eda's picture. They saw King snoring on her lap. Eda went to the kitchen, to get Raine a decent meal, and came back with what used to be their favorite meal when they hung out together. Raine smiled and took the plate, slowly eating, since they had spent 4 days with food, testing the waters slowly about what would make them feel good or bad. The food was being accepted, apparently, so they kept eating, in silence.

(Eda couldn’t be more than 10 feet apart for them for too long)

(Raine wouldn’t stop grabbing Eda’s hand when she was around)

Slowly, the mood in the house got better. Raine was recovering from being knocked out, slowly going back to stand up and walk around the house. They still used the couch to sleep.

(But Eda was sleeping on the floor next to them every night)

King and Luz witnessed the long stares at each other, the soft touches, the tension between the two, something that Luz would call “Pining” from her human fictions, and King thought that was the most annoying thing ever.

Raine would laugh and Eda would give them the most in love expression ever, then they would blush and look away.

(They looked like teens having their first crushes)

Luz and King were just seeing this mutual yearning between the two, which was very fun to watch but was getting embarrassing pretty quickly.

“Agh, my back.” Eda stretched, making a worryingly loud cracking noise, and Raine rubbed their neck, also trying to get rid of the pain they were having because of the couch. They smiled weakly, having their breakfast.

“We are getting old.” They said, and King huffed.

“There are easier ways to sleep next to each other, you know.”

This made both of them blush, and Eda sipped her apple blood loudly, Raine looked at their breakfast with an entirely red face, trying to make it less noticeable.

“King.” Eda just said that, as a warning.

“What? You guys have been on this for 2 weeks, I think Eda’s nest has enough space for two. Then you guys won’t be in pain everyday because of sleeping in places that aren’t made for sleeping.”

“King we-- Huh, I don’t want to talk about this now.” She was blushing in a deep red tone. Raine quickly got up from their chair, almost knocking over their own mug.

“S-sorry.” They put the mug on the table again. “Huh, I will be going, uh, STUFF.” They couldn’t talk right, quickly leaving the kitchen.

Eda sighed, looking at them leaving, still embarrassed.

“I CAN HELP WITH THE TUNNEL OF LOVE.” Hooty suddenly yelled, making Eda jump on her skin, and blushing more “I AM AN EXPERT ON MAKING PEOPLE DATE.”

“No! No tunnel of love!” Eda shouted “Last time it almost didn’t go right!”

“Yeah, it’s better to let them go at their own time.” Luz said, looking at Hooty “Sorry.”

"It's okay!" Hooty yelled and then left.

It's not that Eda didn't want Raine. Eda wanted Raine a bit too much, she wanted to kiss them, to cuddle them, to have every inch of them for her and for her only. That was her Rainstorm, and she would do anything to get them back.

Later, Luz said she was going to hang out with Amity, while King was passed out on the couch. Eda was fixing dinner, and Raine was sitting on the kitchen table, and everytime they and Eda crossed their eyes, they blushed and looked away. Hooty appeared on the window, looking at that.

"You know, my idea of a tunnel of love is still up if you---" Eda didn't let him finish the sentence, quickly closing the window on his face.

"Those old house demons, am I right?" She let out a shy laugh, red all over her cheeks and now ears too. She was finishing to fry some meat with vegetables and make pasta for them.

"Yeah, hum, those house demons." Raine muttered, looking at Eda. This took some seconds to end, with both looking away "So, hum, you're a single mom?"

"Yeah, apparently. After you, no ex wanted a cursed girlfriend, you know." Eda laughed it off, but it really bothered her "I apparently couldn't get pregnant as well, and well, I thought King was a pet at first. He's trying to contact his real family…. Then Luz just came into my life. She still is going to go back to her real mom, but…. I am happy to have them here for the time being."

Raine nodded, now the self-sacrifice made sense. Many things were spiraling onto his head, Eda would make them dizzy.

(Like it was the first time having a crush)

"You know, there's nothing sexier than a single mom." They teased.

"Is that flirting, Rainstorm? Aren't we too old for that?" She snorted, getting a noodle from the pan to test if it was ready.

"Just if you are too old for that." They looked at her, dreamy expression and thinking about how they could finally be together, even if they weren't in a relationship.

"I haven't had a partner for 3 years now, I think I am doing well by myself." She noticed what she said and tried to correct herself. "I mean, I suppose that if someone was really nice, they could stay. I am not set in stone, like you know."

"Oh, so you're waiting for your enchanted prince?" Raine smirked, playing with some napkins on the table.

"No! That was when I had like, ten! I have changed since then. But you know me, I…. I always wanted a big family until… This happened." She pointed at the gemstone, which was entirely black "And since I can't use magic anymore, well, things got harder. Luz taught me glyphs, but they aren't as powerful.

"I can imagine that not being the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles anymore sucks." Raine gave her an understanding look, not pity, but understanding. It made Eda feel safer.

See, Owlet, we're being comforted. Doesn't that feel good? Doesn't it feel safe? She silently told the owl beast. She was getting better at talking to them without much effort. And Owlet sounded a lot better than Owl Beast, less scary.

"Yeah, but I'll fix it as I can, you know? Since Luz and King came into my life, things have gotten better. I am not more mature, and well, you tell me the difference."

"What's a heart without responsibility?" Raine muttered, smiling "I am so, so happy you have grown as a person."

(Raine couldn't stop thinking about the when they reunited, while she met the BATs and at some point during the time Eda joined them and Raine wss captured, they ended up making out in some alley, like teens again, hidden, and then they didn't touch the subject anymore)

"C'mon, not all the credit for me. I learned with you that I shouldn't keep secrets. And talk about stuff." She was finishing mixing the pasta with the sauce, getting it on two plates. "King and Luz had a part in it. I started to deal with the curse better….. And well, now I can turn into Harpy Eda? It's like me but 100% hotter."

"Woah, I can't even begin to imagine how you would be able to be hotter than you already are." Raine grinned, that was to bring her self-esteem up.

"Silly witch. I can show you later. When we rescued you, I was like Harpy Eda but I don't think you had the time to see it."

"Unfortunately, no, I was busy." They joked.

"Too busy to witness my hottest version? Damn, that must be some serious business." She sat on the table with them, plates ready. Raine thanked Eda for the food, starting to eat slowly, and they ended up in silence until they finished the pasta.

"Hey, Eda?" They muttered, now red "King is probably right, about the bed thing. Maybe you should go back to using your nest." They took a deep breath, looking at the empty place "And if you don't mind…. Could I sleep with you? I mean that's totally okay if you don't want to and it's totally okay if you think that's too much, I can--"

"Of course, Rainstorm. Well, a nest isn't a mattress, but…."

"You say it as we didn't share it like, a million times before." Raine smiled, and they hoped that sleeping on the same bed could end up making them re-tie.

That was a bad plan, they thought as the sleeping time was almost there. Luz had come back home, rambling about Amity but all that Raine could think was that it was an extremely bad idea to ask Eda to sleep with her. That was the worst idea they ever had and it would blow directly into their face when---

"Hey, Rainstorm? Are you ok?" Eda asked, worried. They were clenching their fists and entirely red. Luz had moved to her bedroom with King already, saying that she would get ready to sleep.

"I-- I just was t-thinking…. Huh, I a-asked to sleep with you but n-not that way, I mean, unless you want??? I am sorry sorry I am just an anxious mess!" They hide their face, rubbing their eyes.

Eda blushed as well. Well, she thought they would just sleep as friends, but now it was more than obvious that Raine was thinking about more than just the friendly cuddling.

"Raine, it's ok! To be honest, it's cute." She was being sincere, and she took their hands out of their face. "You're cute."

Raine gently squeezed her hands, looking at her skin. Both had hands that were worn by time and by their experiences. They felt old, but still somehow in a young way. Raine liked to feel the roughness on her hands, and the little scars she had from working as a trash collector.

"I missed you, Calamity."

"I missed you too, Rainstorm." She muttered, close to their face. They could feel her breath mixing with theirs and the heat emanating from her skin, that felt so right, their heart skipping a few beats, their mind a mess from many feelings mixed about this.

They couldn't deny, they wanted it. Not like a small desire, but as something taking over their whole body and mind. They needed her.

"Can we go to the bedroom?" Eda whispered. If she was going to have their third-first kiss, she was not going to do it in the living room with Luz's abomination track homework there. It had to be soft and cute. They were finally reuniting after all of those years. It had to be special.

They silently climbed the stairs, holding hands and giving each other caring looks. Soon, they were in the bedroom, and Eda found pillows for Raine, and laid down on the nest, turned to each other and exchanged tender touches and cuddles.

"I thought this would never happen." Eda muttered, with a finger going through Raine's arm "When was the last time we laid down in peace? Like, without the lingering feeling of 'this relationship isn't going to last?'. It feels like an eternity."

"We just pushed that last 2 years because we were afraid of breaking up, didn't we." Raine sighed.

"I would say that it doesn't matter now…. But it does matter. I am sorry for never telling the truth and pushing you away." Eda whispered, not looking at them "I wanted to protect you, I couldn't understand why someone so sweet as you was with such a monster like me."

"Eda, you weren't a monster. You were just a hurt person. I felt so bad for abandoning you when you most needed me…." Raine closed their eyes, trying to control the tears. They felt bad to this day because of it.

"Hey, hey. It wouldn't be healthy for us to continue going like that, ok? It's not your fault. We grew as people because of that, and… and I think that right now, we can try to build something better." She looked at them, hopeful of a positive reaction. Raine didn't answer, pulling them closer and kissing her like that was the thing they most desired in the world and they would die without it.

(That was how they felt about it)

Eda kissed back, surprised but with the same intensity, getting Raine closer, all the closeness didn't seem enough at this moment. That was supposed to be a cute third-first kiss, but Eda didn't mind that it was hungry instead. She discovered she was hungry to have them again as well, she wanted them up close and personal, she wanted everything they had to give, she loved Raine, and Raine loved her and that was the truth and the only thing that existed right now, even the bedroom seemed to disappear around them while they finally got the proximity they yearned for so long.

When they stopped to catch their breaths, Eda only smiled.

"Wow."

"Wow." Raine agreed, blushing and hiding their face on Eda’s chest. Eda cuddled them, grinning ear to ear.

“So, can I call you my partner?”

“Only if you accept to be my girlfriend.” Raine muttered.

What a beautiful way to end their day.

#raeda #raine whispers #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #the owl house #i forgot to post it here

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itspufflehuff · 3 years

Text

Stay - Bucky Barnes Imagine

Summary: After a long war your brother and his annoying best friend will finally be coming back home. What will happen between you and Bucky now that you are both adults living under the same roof?

MATERLIST // TAGLIST

Word Count: 4,990

~~~~

New York, 1945

It had been months since you heard from your brother. Then finally you got word that the war was won. A week or two after hearing the news you got a letter from Steve with a time, date, and place followed by the words, "We're coming home."

You jumped in excitement and ran into the room where Buckys parents sat. When your mother died you and Steve both moved into a house together, but when he left for the war you were unable to afford to live on your own. Sure you had a job but it was the 1940s, you weren't getting paid enough. Buckys parents invited you to live with them. You grew up with these people and they had an extra room. Plus it would be lonely without Bucky there with them and without Steve with you. It was mutually beneficial so you moved in.

Now they're finally coming back home. You were so excited to finally see your brother again and even though Bucky was always such a nuisance growing up you couldn't wait for him to come back. With your excitement for their return came one question, where would you live? The last few years living with the Barnes' were amazing. They were incredibly nice to you and never expected much other than helping out around the house. They even insisted you quit your job and live with them rent-free. But now Steve would be back and you were unsure if you would be moving back in with him.

The days leading up their return you spent unable to sit still. No matter where you were or what you were doing you were tapping your fingers, bouncing your leg, or even swaying side to side. You spent each night looking out your window gazing at the stars. Ever since you were little you were fascinated by the stars and its constellations. When you left for camp your mom told you to look up at the stars each night and remember that wherever she was she would be looking at them too. When Steve left for the war he reminded you of your mothers words, "When you're scared or you miss me just look at the stars, chances are I'll be looking too." So you did. Whenever you were upset or had a bad dream you would gaze at the stars and imagine talking to your brother, he always helped you feel better.

The night of their arrival you woke up extra early unable to contain your excitement. They wouldn't be arriving till late afternoon but you decided to get started on your day. You dressed in black high-waisted pants matched with a red long sleeve top then rushed downstairs to get started on breakfast for everyone. All-day you did whatever you could to keep yourself busy. You cleaned the house even though you and Bucky's mom cleaned the day before. Buckys parents silently laughed at how restless you were that day as you all waited for Steve and Bucky.

Finally, when the time came to meet them at the train station you were the first one in the car. The car ride to the station was quiet as everyone was filled with so many emotions of their own. You sat in the back seat silently chewing at your nails as the polish chipped off.

Steve didn't leave any specific instructions on where to meet so you all settled on waiting near the ticket booth. You bounced as you searched the area for any sign of your brother or his annoying best friend. You tippy-toed as you tried to look over mountains of people passing you by. Then you heard your name being called. Immediately you turned to the source. You had seen the photos of Steve and heard about the experiment but actually seeing how much he changed was shocking. You stood there for a moment processing that the tall buff man a few yards away from you was your brother. Snapping out of your shock a smile rose to your lips as you ran to him. He stopped to put his bags down just in time for you to crush him with a hug.

You squeezed him as the tears began to fall. Behind you, you heard the Barnes as they ran after you to meet their son. When you pulled away from Steve he wiped a tear from your face. Now you were able to get a closer look at him and through your tears, you laughed, "All of those girls are going to be so mad they dumped you." He laughed along with you, "I bet they're all going to come crawling back to me now that I'm Captain America." He said the name sarcastically.

A hand rested on Steve's shoulder ushering him away from you. Behind him, you saw Bucky with a wide smile, "Don't I get a hug too?" You rolled your eyes as you smiled. He walked closer to you embracing you in a warm hug. You had never hugged Bucky before, well maybe when you were children but you couldn't remember. Now feeling his strong arms wrapped around your body you didn't want to let go. It wasn't weird or awkward, it felt right. You buried your face in his chest taking in his scent. You hated to admit it but when you heard that Bucky was drafted for the war it felt as if your heart dropped to your stomach. You had been so worried about him then Steve joined the war and your worry worsened. Now that you had them both back it was like your heart could breathe again. You no longer had to worry about losing them in the trenches.

"I missed you small fry." He started calling you small fry when you were ten years old. For how short Steve was compared to Bucky you were always shorter. Even at your full height, you stood three inches shorter than Steve. You always hated that nickname but hearing it now made your heart feel warm.

"I missed you too Bucky." You couldn't feel it but his heart was beating fast. Just as you would never admit your worry for him he wouldn't admit how his feelings for you grew while he was gone. Growing up Bucky loved to poke at your patience. Even as teenagers and adults he would make it his daily goal to annoy you at least three times a day, but just like Steve he was always so protective of you. As children, he wouldn't care if another boy picked on you. He would just laugh and take notes, but the older you both got the more protective he got. You never knew this but Bucky was always scaring boys away from you. Girls would always get love notes from boys but you never got anything. Bucky made it a point to let every boy know that if they hurt you in the slightest he would not hesitate to punch them. They had all seen Bucky fight before, whenever he was protecting Steve, and since he was a few years older than you all of the boys in your grade were scared.

Bucky knew that as his best friend's sister he could never be with you so he started dating other girls. He was such a flirt and all the girls swooned over him. Even when he was out fighting the war he tested his luck with the European women, but he could never get past flirting with them. He could if he wanted to but something was always holding him back. It wasn't until he was out in the trenches fighting for his life that he realized all he could think about was you. He fought so hard to stay alive because he knew that once he came back home he could see you again.

Now here you were in his arms. He didn't want to let you go, it was like his mind was up in the clouds with you so close to him. Steve was the one to pull him back down to earth, "Ok give me my sister back now."

"Y/N there is actually someone I want you to meet." Steve started a bit nervously. You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows, "You want me to meet someone?"

He scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah. I met someone while I was away. She's a really great gal and we were planning on moving in together." You'd never heard of this mystery woman before so this was a shock for you to hear, "Oh." was the only thing you were able to say.

"Of course, you can move in with us I wouldn't want you to feel like you're not welcome."

Before you could say anything a woman approached Steve placing her hand on his shoulder. He turned with a smile, taking her hand into his, and placed a kiss on it before turning back to you, "Y/N, this is Peggy. Peggy this is my sister Y/N." The lady turned to you with a kind smile and reached her hand out for you to shake, "It's nice to finally meet you Y/N, your brother has told me so much about you."

"Same to you." You shook her hand, she seemed to be a genuine person unlike the woman from around here who always turned an eye at Steve because he was "weak".

"I'm sorry but we must get going, we'll be staying in a hotel until we can find somewhere to live," Steve said as he grabbed his and Peggy's bags.

He gave you one last hug whispering in your ear, " Think about my offer ok?"

You nodded, "I will thank you."

~~~~

The ride back was filled with talk and laughter. It was nice to have Bucky back. "You know Y/N you can stay with us if you'd like." Bucky's mom offered.

"Yes, it has been so great having you with us we don't mind if you stay a bit longer." His dad chimed in.

"Thank you, both of you you're so kind but I wouldn't want to intrude any-"

"Oh nonsense!" Buckys mom shouted. "You have never once intruded we insist you stay with us."

Beside you, Bucky laughed, "Yeah your room is right across from mine. If you go with Steve I won't be able to bug you in the middle of the night."

You rolled your eyes at him with a smile, "You know that doesn't make me want to stay."

He chuckled tilting his head to the side, "I'm joking! Well kinda." He whispered the last part.

You mimicked the way he tilted his head then raised an eyebrow. You didn't say anything as you just looked at him. "Come on, stay. I promise I won't bug you much."

So you did.

Steve wasn't too heartbroken over your decision to stay with Bucky and his family. It didn't take him long to settle into a new home either. Once people heard Captain America was home and looking for a house to buy the offers came jumping out at him. Within no time he was settled into his new home.

As happy as you were to have your brother and his friend back you didn't like how their presence scared men away from you. When they were gone you were going out on dates a lot more than before, which still wasn't much, but at least you were going out. Now with the return of Bucky, who was always chasing men away from you, plus the addition of your hero brother men were scared to even look in your direction.

That was until one man came along. He was new to town and knew nothing of your brother or his overprotective best friend. Whenever he would see you around the both of you would talk and flirt for a while before you had to part ways. Then finally after a few weeks, he asked you out on a date. You were so excited that finally, a man was other than Steve and Bucky was talking to you.

The day of your date you got dressed up real pretty and rushed downstairs to wait for him. As you exited your room you crashed into Bucky who was leaving his room. He grabbed the sides of your arms to keep you from stumbling. He was smiling ready to make a joke but once he saw the fresh face of makeup and dress you were wearing his face turned serious, "Where are you going?"

"Out." Was all you said as you tried to move past him but he kept his hands on your arms to hold you in place.

"Hm. Out? With who?" He questioned.

"A friend."

"Is this a female friend or a male friend?"

"Does it matter?" You tried to brush off.

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, "Come on Y/N, you know the answer to that." You stood there silent. Of course you knew it mattered but you just wanted the conversation to end so you can go on your date. "So which is it? A female friend or a male friend?"

Sighing in defeat you answered, "A male friend." Bucky was about to speak but you didn't let him, "Please don't make this a big deal. I hardly get to go on dates, let me enjoy this." He pursed his lips then nodded, "Ok. I won't bother you about it but I expect to find out who this man is later ok?"

"Ok." You nodded happily.

"And you can expect your brother to hear about this little date of yours." He scolded. You rolled your eyes and laughed, "I kind of expected you to call him as soon as I leave."

"Do you need a ride tonight?"

"No, he should be picking me up any minute now so I figured I'd wait outside for him."

So you did. You waited for him on the patio swings in front of your house happily swaying back and forth. Soon the minutes turned into an hour, then that turned into two, and so on, and so on. Eventually, the sun went down but you were holding out hope that he would show up. From inside the house, Bucky watched and wen the sunset he came out with a blanket to keep you warm, "Would you like some company?" He asked wrapping the warm fabric around your shoulders. "Sure" You replied softly keeping your eyes to the ground.

You felt so embarrassed to have been waiting outside for so long but you also didn't want to go in and face Bucky. Who knows what he'd have to say about this. "Are you ok?" He looked at you speaking softly. You didn't feel like talking so you just nodded your head. "Do you want to go back inside?" He asked. You just kept your eyes to the ground as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. Bucky softly placed his hand on your shoulder, "Come on let's get you inside, it's getting cold out here." Standing up you nodded. You felt him place his other hand on your free shoulder as he ushered you inside. Luckily no one else was home to see what happened to you and though Bucky loved to tease you, you knew he would keep this secret.

"I feel like an idiot." You mumbled as you both walked over to the sofa.

"You're not an idiot. If anyone is an idiot it's that guy who stood you up." He tried to hide his anger but you could hear it in his voice.

"But why would he stand me up like that? What was so wrong with me that he made him not want to go out after all?"

"Nothing is wrong with you Y/N. Obviously, he doesn't deserve you if he can't see what an amazing girl you are."

"You really mean it Bucky?" You looked at him hopefully.

"Of course! Listen I'm sorry I always made it so difficult for you to find dates but I was just trying to look out for you I didn't think any of those losers in high school deserved you."

"It's ok Bucky, I know you meant well. It just always sucked being the only girl in class who wasn't going out."

"I know and again I'm sorry about that." For a second you both sat in silence. You still had the blanket wrapped around you and Bucky had his hands crossed as he looked down at the carpet. Then he looked up at you with an excited smile, "You know what you still deserve to have a nice night so what do you say you let me take you out?"

You looked at him shocked unsure what to say. "It doesn't have to be a date! I just mean you deserve to have fun not sit here and be sad."

"Thank you, Bucky but I don't feel like going out anymore." You gave him a soft smile.

"We don't have to go out we can stay here. I can make us some dinner, we can play some board games, dance, watch tv, whatever you want!" He seemed pretty excited about this and it would be much more fun than sitting around moping. "Ok, let's do it! We'll have some dinner and see where the night leads us." You smiled at him now excited for what the night had to offer.

Bucky asked you to wait for him in your room as he prepared dinner. He would get you once everything was ready, but as soon as he finished his parents showed up with a few of their friends. He forgot they were going to be having drinks at their house that night.

Trying to make best with the situation he took the food into his room and set a nice picnic on his floor. He set up candles on his desk and cabinets then placed a rose from his mother's garden in the middle of where you two would be eating. Quickly he dressed into something nice then nervously walked over to your door. He knew this wasn't a real date but he so badly wanted it to be. He even hoped this would eventually lead to something real.

He knocked on your door three times. When you opened he saw you were wearing this same thing as before but still he was taken by your beauty as if it were the first time seeing you like this. He bowed then held his arm out, "My lady. Dinner awaits." He faked a posh accent. You laughed locking your arm into his. Then in his normal voice, he added "Please excuse the change in location as my dear parents have brought company." You looked at him confused as to where you two would be having dinner. Your confusion didn't last long as he led you to the door across from your room. "Were having dinner in your room?" You tried to hold back a laugh but he could see the smile on your face, "I know it's not in any way nice or romantic but don't worry I cleaned up for you." He playfully winked as he opened the door.

The only light in the room was coming from a small lamp and several candles. The room smelled nice like a mixture of his cologne and fresh cotton, which happened to be the scent of the candles. You noticed the food nicely placed on the floor. You could tell he cleaned in a hurry because his bed shits were slightly lopsided and wrinkled.

"Bucky this is so sweet." You looked up at him. He placed his hand on your lower back as he walked you further into his room. "I told you, you deserve to have a good night."

"Now we don't have any wine since everyone downstairs has taken it for themselves to I brought us some water and lemonade."

"Lovely of them to share with us." you both laughed, "I'll be fine with just the lemonade, thank you." He started pouring your drink into your glass before you could even reach your hand out for it.

For the next thirty minutes or so you both sat there eating and talking as you laughed over the past. "Do you remember when I was in the twelfth grade and you scared off all my potential prom dates?"

His head fell back as he laughed, "Yes! Steve had to take you."

Playfully you rolled your eyes at him, "Yeah, if he hadn't taken me I would've been the only girl without a date."

"In our eyes, none of those boys were good enough for you, we were just trying to protect you from that." He defended.

You sighed defeated, "Most of them did turn out to be no good so I'll give you that. I just think you and Steve can be a little too protective so you refuse to see there are good men out there for me." Bucky kept his eyes to the ground not wanting to admit he didn't want you with any other guy, he wanted you for himself. Instead, he stood up and held his hand out for you, "Would you like to dance?"

You smiled and tilted your head, "There's no music." Swiftly he wakes over to the record player sitting on his bedside table to fill the room with music. He walked back over, again holding his hand out. Softly you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up from the floor. He walked you a few steps away from the dishes on the floor then placed his free hand on your waist as you put yours on his shoulder.

At first, it felt a bit awkward. You were dancing with the man who always knew how to push your buttons yet no matter how annoying he was or how much you claimed to hate him, you couldn't get him out of your mind. You always thought he was handsome and charming but you always brushed it off by saying it was all just an act he put on to get girls.

To him, this was like a dream come true yet he couldn't help but feel guilty for dancing with his best friend's sister so romantically. He never thought he could be good enough to be with you but now with you so close to him, he didn't want to think that anymore. He spent the last few years wondering if every day would be his last and the only person he could think of was you. He couldn't waste any more time doubting himself or pushing you away.

Slowly but surely the dancing felt more natural. the both of you were so tense at first but loosened up eventually. As the night went on you rested your head on his chest. You could feel his heart pounding yet he was breathing slowly. When your head hit his chest he felt the heat rising up in his neck. His head perked up as he looked down at you. Not too long after a smile made its way onto his lips and he rested his head on top of yours, pulling you in closer to him. For what felt like hours, but was only eighteen minutes, you both danced and swayed in each other's arms. At some point, you closed your eyes as you enjoyed the feeling of his arms wrapped around yours and taking in his scent. It felt like you were floating on the moon.

Eventually, the track ended and left nothing but static playing. Slowly and gently Bucky pulled away from you. He looked down into your eyes which only made his heart beat faster, "You know every night I would take one look at the stars before bed and imagine you were looking at them too?"

"You did?" Your eyes grew like saucers.

"I did. I know I've always been kind of an ass to you growing up but while I was away you were the only thing on my mind." His eyes never left yours as he spoke. You looked up at him in shock unsure of what to say in response. Bucky took your hand into his as he moved a step back, "I want to show you something." He walked you over to his bed, sat you down, then walked over to the light switch. When the room was enveloped in darkness you heard his voice, "Look up." Above his bed were the constellations painted in glow in the dark ink. You felt the bed sink in next to you and again Bucky's voice, "When I graduated I painted the constellations on my ceiling, that way every night before bed I could learn more about them. You can't really see them when you look out the window so this was my best option. I guess subconsciously I was always trying to impress you or be a man worthy of being with you."

You looked over to Bucky as you felt your heart beating faster, "Bucky-"

"I think I did a pretty good job at drawing them. Take a look, it's better if you lay back you can see everything at once." He laid down first then patted the space next to him. Shyly you laid back but kept some distance between the two of you. The painting was beautiful, you could tell he tried so hard to make it look just right. Of course there were some minor mistakes but you weren't going to point them out, you were just amazed that we would do all of this. He excitedly started pointing at the ceiling naming each constellation, "Look right there is Draco! Then there's the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, Hercules, and Cepheus." You looked over to Bucky but his eyes were glued to the ceiling. He had a child-like wonder look on his face. "Every night while I was away I would try to find them in the stars. I think I once saw Scorpius but I can't be too sure."

"You know I actually missed you when you were gone."

This caught his attention. He turned to you with a playful smile, "I thought you would've been excited to see me leave."

"Well at first I was just a little," you laughed, "but even then I was worried that I may not see you again. I tried to act like I didn't care too much but every time you sent a letter to your parents it was like a wave of relief because even if you were hurt it meant you weren't dead. I just wanted you to come back home."

You felt his hand grab onto yours and squeeze gently. You interlocked your fingers together and scooted yourself closer to him. The warmth from his arm made you feel more comfortable and at ease so you thought it would be a good time to rest your eyes for a few seconds.

When they opened back up you were laying on your side holding onto Bucky's arm. He was laying on his back and you could hear his soft breathing. You looked over at the clock on his wall to see that it was now three in the morning but you were sure it was only ten o'clock just a few moments ago. Slowly you let go of Bucky's arm but when you sat up you felt his hand reaching out for yours, "Where are you going?" He asked sleepily. His eyes were still closed and his hand closed around yours gently.

"It's already three in the morning, I'm going to my room." You said disappointedly. You didn't want to go back to your room but it was already late at night. Bucky gently tugged on your arm as he rolled over to lay in his side, "You don't have to go." He said with his face in the pillow.

You looked to the floor considering laying back down with him. His hand slid down your arm and down to your hand interlocking your fingers together, "Stay, please."

You laid back down beside him cuddling into his arm like you were before. Bucky nuzzled his face into the hair at the top of your head before placing a soft kiss and drifting off to sleep.

TAG LIST

@sebstanfan123

#james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #fanfic #the winter solider fanfiction #imagine #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu imagine #mcu #The Avengers #Avengers #tfaws #the winter soilder

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phantasticworks · 3 years

Text

If You Don't Love Me, Pretend - Epilogue

Well. So here we are. it's been a long time (about three years actually) since I started writing this fic and it's grown significantly out of my control since then :') if you've been along since the start, or if you've just found this fic today, thank you for coming along this journey with me. It's been incredible and I'm forever grateful for all the support this fic has gotten <3 thank you so much for reading. keep your eyes peeled for bonus content!

read on ao3

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Three years later

Warnings for this chapter: none

It’s nearly six in the evening and there’s a chiming noise coming from the laptop in the lounge. Dan curses under his breath as he makes his way from the kitchen, hoping and praying the volume isn’t loud enough to wake a certain someone.

He gets there just as the Skype call is about to end, and is quick to press the “accept” button as he scoops the laptop up, retreating back to the kitchen with it. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Phil says from the screen, a little smile on his face. “I thought you forgot about me.”

Dan rolls his eyes, setting the laptop on the island countertop and settling on a barstool. “Right. God forbid I’m two seconds late to our Skype call.”

Phil does an adorable pout. “I’ve been gone a week, I miss your face. Is that a crime?”

Dan smirks. “Yep. I’m gonna call the police, have them arrest you on the spot.”

“Hm.” Phil considers it for a moment. “I don’t think I like handcuffs enough for that.” He’s got this smug little look on his face, like he knows a secret.

Annoyingly, Dan blushes at that. “Shut up. You don’t get to flirt when you’re, like, on the other side of the freaking planet.”

Phil gives him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, hon. I’ll be back home in a couple days, though.”

Dan nods, propping an elbow up and resting his chin in his hand. “I know. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Phil replies easily. Dan loves that even now, after all this time, they’re still this disgustingly obsessed with each other.

“How’s work been?” Dan asks, changing the subject before he gets sad. He hates it when he gets sad during their Skype calls, especially when he starts crying.

Phil sighs, shrugging. “It’s been alright. I’m exhausted, though. You’d think I’d stop offering to go to these sorts of things for the BBC, but apparently I can’t help myself.”

Dan smiles at him. “You’re a dedicated worker. It’s a good thing.”

“Not when it takes me away from you guys for weeks at a time,” Phil mumbles petulantly. Dan has to agree there. “Speaking of, where are our kids?”

Nearly three years since the adoption was finalized and Dan still adores the sound of that. “The twins are upstairs, I think doing homework. I was starting dinner when you called.”

“Oh, sorry,” Phil says, smiling sheepishly.

Dan waves him off. “It’s fine. I’m doing stir-fry tonight, it won’t take long anyway.”

Phil nods at this, then asks, “Levi out with Charlotte?”

Dan smiles and nods. “Yeah. They went to see a movie, I think.”

“Did you make sure he had enough money?” Phil asks. He’s always got this perpetual fear that their son will be stranded somewhere with no money and no way home, so Dan’s gotten good at reassuring him.

“Yes,” he says patiently. “I let him borrow the car, and I told him that there’s some in the console if they need it.”

Phil nods, but his face is stricken with another worried look. Dan knows what’s coming before he says it. “Did they wear seatbelts? Are you sure he’s ready to drive on his own? I mean-“

“Babe,” Dan interrupts. “He’s nearly eighteen. He’s passed all his tests, gotten his license, and he’s practiced a lot. He’s earned a little bit of trust, yeah?”

He can tell Phil is still a little nervous and weary, but he nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says with a breath. “I just worry about him.”

Dan looks down, hiding his smile. His husband could be such an anxious mess when his kids were involved. “I know. But he’s fine. They’re fine. Charlotte’s aunt said she could stay the night, so they’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

“Oh, make sure you make her a separate serving of the stir-fry. She’s still doing the vegetarian thing, and I don’t want her to go hungry,” Phil says.

Dan’s heart clenches. He’s so full of love and that ooey-gooey affection that hasn’t dulled at all over the years.

“Sure,” he agrees with a smile.

“How’s-“ Phil begins to speak, but before he can, a piercing cry comes from the lounge. Dan jumps, and Phil laughs. “Speak of the devil,” he grins.

Dan makes a protesting noise. “Don’t you dare call our daughter a devil,” he chastises playfully.

Phil rolls his eyes. “Go get her, I’ll wait.”

Dan nods and quickly makes his way to the lounge, straight over to where the crying noise is coming from the bassinet in the corner. “Oh, dear,” Dan tuts in a high-pitch voice. Phil makes fun of him when he does that, calling him Winnie the Pooh every time. Dan leans down, smiling at the little bundle resting there, the crying softening to a sniffle when Dan scoops the baby up.

“Shh,” he whispers. “There we go. Daddy’s here, love.” He strokes her little fingers, grinning wetly when she clutches onto his pinky. “Aww, what a sweet thing. Do you wanna see your other Dad? Yes! Let’s go see Dada.”

He’s careful as he makes his way back to the kitchen, and he glances up at the laptop, smiling when he sees the way Phil is beaming at him through the screen. “Hello there,” he coos softly. “Oh, sweet angel. How’s she been today?” His tone shifts when he speaks to Dan, and Dan glances up at him again, having gotten lost in staring at her cute little face.

“She’s been a lot better today. I think Kath was right about the colic,” Dan says, absently stroking her little hand as he rocks her gently.

Phil nods. “So it was probably just gas?” He asks.

“I think so. I gave her a warm bath and did the bicycle thing with her legs earlier and she seems to be loads better now,” Dan replies.

“Good,” Phil says with a smile. “I read somewhere that if they’re still having trouble you can have them lay on their tummies and that might help.”

Dan nods. “I’ll try that if she gets fussy again. But the crying finally stopped, thank god.” He’s not religious but he’s not kidding in his thanks. The crying was literally about to drive him insane.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry I haven’t been there this week,” Phil says, his eyes dropping with something like shame.

Dan wishes he could kiss him right now. “It’s fine, Phil. We’ve been fine.”

“Still...” Phil shrugs. “I wish I would’ve been there.”

Dan smiles. “I know. But next time you will be, yeah? At least the BBC isn’t sending you out all the time these days.”

Phil nods. “Thank god. And thank god that Bryony lets you work from home.”

“I know, right?” Dan grins. He’s still a little over the moon about his career shift, even though he does find himself struggling to do both jobs part-time. But that’s something he won’t let himself worry about now.

The baby gurgles in his arms, and Dan coos at her. “What? Is our baby girl hungry? Hm? Time for din-din?”

“I guess I should probably let you go,” Phil says, sounding sad.

Dan glances up at him, frowning at the thought. He really does miss him a lot. “You don’t have to. Do you want to talk to the kids before you go?”

Phil smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Let me go grab them. Hang on,” Dan gently bounces the baby as he goes to the end of the stairs, covering her little ears gently before calling out, “Mia! Jai! Come here for a second!”

There’s some shouts of agreement and then Dan listens to the stampede of little feet as they race down the stairs. Thank god they’d finally moved into a house that they actually own, with neighbors far enough away that they can’t complain about the sounds that fill a house full of children.

Still, old habits die hard, and Dan gives them a look when they reach the bottom. “What did we say about running?” He asks.

The nine-year-olds at least have the decency to look ashamed. “Sorry,” Jaiden says, stepping closer and stroking his baby sister’s cheek with a gentle finger. “Hi, Nat-Nat,” he coos.

Dan smiles at that. “Dad’s on Skype, he wants to talk to you guys,” Dan says, and the words are barely out of his mouth when the twins are barreling off towards the kitchen. He rolls his eyes as he follows after them, mumbling to the baby all the while. “Sure, Daddy’s been feeding them and keeping them alive this week, but as soon as Dada is mentioned, it’s like I’m chopped liver,” he complains with the same baby-voice he always uses when talking to her.

She gurgles and Dan sighs. “You’re right. Dada is the best.”

When he reaches the kitchen again, both kids are hovered by the laptop, rambling about their day. They’re interrupting each other more often than not, but Phil seems to be getting the gist of everything regardless. Dan busies himself with preparing a bottle for Natalie, humming to her as he heats up the water. He smiles and makes faces at her to keep her occupied, and his heart leaps when her lip curls just a little.

“Aren’t you Daddy’s little angel? Hm? Our precious girl?” He says in a sweet voice, smiling when she smacks her lips. “Oh, someone is hungry, huh?”

Apparently Amelia is listening to him, because she pipes up from across the room. “I’m hungry,” she says loudly.

“I know, love, I’m going to start dinner as soon as I feed Nat and put her down for another nap,” Dan replies.

Amelia huffs. She mutters something, and Dan tenses. Things had been a little tense since they brought Natalie home over a month ago, and Amelia was not shy about telling them how much she didn’t want a little sister for the months leading up to Natalie’s birth. Dan hates to think that this is their reality for the rest of forever, Amelia disliking her little sister to the point of contempt, but at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“Amelia,” Dan hears Phil say over the Skype call. He’s using his fatherly warning tone, and Dan is partially relieved. This week has been hell trying to balance four kids and a job (thank god it’s summer and his school counselor tasks were more sparse this time of year) as well as the weird energy Amelia has towards the baby, so it’s a relief for Phil to finally step in.

“I know,” Amelia says with an irritated sigh, rolling her eyes. Dan gives her a look, and she looks down.

“Honey, I know you don’t like this change in our family, but that’s just the way things are now, okay? Natalie is here to stay, and sooner or later you need to figure out how to live with that,” Phil tells her firmly.

Dan’s careful not to say anything. There’s been many times, over the years, where he’s been inclined to argue with Phil over their parenting methods, and there’s been times when those arguments have become proper fights. But they’re working on communication, both with each other and their kids, so this time, he keeps his mouth shut. Honestly, there’s not anything Phil said that he doesn’t agree with, so it’s not a hardship to let him take the lead on this one.

Amelia rubs at her eyes. “Fine,” she says tersely.

Dan’s heart clenches. He hates to see any of his children in pain, and he knows that Amelia isn’t wrong to be upset. A new sibling is an upending of her life, and especially since she’s gone from being the only daughter to just the oldest. He thinks about how he felt, at seven years old, when Adrian was born. He gets it.

“Mia, do you want to help me cook dinner tonight?” Dan asks.

Amelia brightens a little at that. “Can I chop peppers?”

Dan smiles. “You sure can. I need my favorite sous chef if I’m going to feed the masses in an orderly time,” he says with a wink.

She giggles, and he relaxes. Amelia starts to tell Phil about something that had happened earlier that day when Dan took them to the park, and Dan hurries about finishing Natalie’s bottle so he can feed her. She’s starting to get fussy, and he’s bouncing her carefully as he readies the bottle, checking the temperature on his wrist.

“Here we go,” he says softly, tucking the bottle nipple in her mouth. “Good stuff, huh?” He smiles down at her, stroking her soft little cheek. Her eyes drift shut and he allows himself to relax, wandering back over to the laptop and standing behind the kids so he can see Phil again.

“And Daddy said that tomorrow we’re gonna go to the zoo,” Amelia announces proudly.

“Might,” Dan says, emphasizing the word strongly. “I said we might go to the zoo.” He rolls his eyes at Phil, shaking his head in exasperation.

“But Daddy-“ Amelia whines.

Dan’s already shaking his head at her. “Nope, don’t start. I said we might go. Honestly, I don’t know if I can handle toting all three of you around by myself.”

“Toting all three of them around where?” A voice says, interrupting Amelia’s next complaint.

Dan turns around where Levi and Charlotte are walking into the kitchen and smiles at them. “The zoo. Possibly. Hi, Lottie. How was the movie?”

Charlotte shrugs, going to settle on the barstool closest to Amelia, accepting the hug Amelia gives her with a smile. “It was alright. The special effects were horrible. You’re going to hate the ending.”

“No spoilers!” He protests, shaking his head adamantly since he doesn’t have an empty hand to gesture with.

She grins and pretends to zip her lips before turning to the laptop, the Skype call still open. Phil is smiling at them, that goofy kind that Dan knows well. It usually means Phil is thinking about how lucky they are to have this life. Dan understands the feeling.

“Hi, Phil,” Charlotte greets with a little wave.

“Hi,” he waves back with a smile. “Did you guys wear your seatbelts?”

Charlotte nods, but Dan notices her give Levi a pointed look and Levi sighs, pulling out his wallet. Dan watches in amusement as he takes out a couple pounds, handing them to her with a roll of his eyes. When she notices Dan looking at her, Charlotte shrugs, looking only a little bit sheepish. “We had a bet on whether or not one of you would ask us about that,” she explains.

Dan snorts. He turns to Levi, giving him a fake disappointed look. “Probably should’ve seen that one coming, Levi.”

Levi sighs. “I knew that you probably wouldn’t, and I wasn’t counting on Dad being here when we got home.”

“Sorry,” Phil says with a grin.

“Are we ever gonna have dinner?” Amelia wails, interrupting whatever it was Phil was going to say next.

“I’m starving,” Jaiden agrees from beside her. He turns to look at Dan, pouting. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just order pizza?”

Dan looks straight at Phil, giving him a very pointed look. “That one is all yours,” he says, nodding to Jaiden.

Phil at least has the decency to look almost embarrassed. “I mean... he’s got a fair point, babe,” Phil says with a little grin.

Dan sighs. Natalie’s bottle makes a snapping noise and Dan looks down to find she’s only got a couple swallows left in the nipple. He’s careful to watch and pull it out of her mouth before she can start swallowing any air, placing it on the counter to be washed later as he grins at her. “Well done Nat-Nat! You finished all your din-din.”

The baby gurgles at him and Dan smiles as he takes her up to his shoulder, burping her gently. The kids are still talking amongst themselves, but Dan catches Phil watching him through the screen. He smiles helplessly, shrugging at his husband, and Phil grins back.

“I guess I should let you go so you can put her down and start dinner,” Phil says, a resigned sigh in his voice.

Dan hates it, but he’s right. Dan could sit here talking to Phil all evening instead of ever bothering to cook dinner, and with a houseful of hungry children, that’s hardly an option. “Yeah, I guess so,” Dan agrees. “Everyone, say goodnight to Dad, he’s gotta go eat some dinner and get to bed, and so do we.”

The kids all make their noises of complaint but he watches, rocking the baby with a smile, as each of the kids tell Phil goodnight. Dan shoos them all out of the kitchen with Levi’s help, and then it’s just Phil and Dan and the baby.

“I miss you,” Dan says.

Phil smiles. “I miss you more.”

Dan shakes his head, resting his cheek gently against Natalie’s little head. “I seriously doubt that,” he says softly.

“It’s true,” Phil replies, dropping his chin to rest in his hand. “But I’ll be home soon, okay?”

Dan nods. “Right,” he agrees. “I love you.”

Phil blows him a kiss, their usual parting on these calls. “I love you too, bub. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“Okay. Goodnight. Love you.”

Phil grins when Dan repeats himself. “Goodnight, Dan. I love you. Tell the kids I’ll be home soon.”

“Of course. Bye,” he says, waving for a second before the screen goes black. He sighs, looking down at Natalie’s sweet, sleepy little face. “I can’t wait for your other Dad to come home, munchkin. This one needs a break and a good snuggle.”

She smacks her lips and closes her eyes and Dan smiles, rolling his eyes. “I know, your life is so hard, being a baby. Let’s get you down for another nap, love.”

~~~

The next night, Dan wakes up from a deep sleep to warm breath on his neck. At first he’s confused, grunting as he tries to roll over, but a heavy weight around his waist stops him. “What the...”

“Shh,” a deep and unmistakable voice murmurs in his ear. “‘M tryin’ sleep.”

Suddenly, Dan is wide awake, rolling over quickly despite the protests from his husband. “Phil,” he breathes, warm and happy.

Phil blinks at him, a goofy, exhausted smile on his face. “Hi,” he says sheepishly.

Dan wraps himself around Phil immediately, peppering kisses to everywhere he can reach. “I missed you,” he kisses across Phil’s brow bone, feeling Phil’s breath on his collarbones. “So much.”

“I missed you too,” Phil replies with a little laugh, kissing at Dan’s throat.

Something occurs to Dan then and he pulls away, staring at Phil with a furrowed brow. “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.” He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t help but be a little accusatory. He wanted to make sure the house was clean, maybe do some laundry. Just the sort of husband things one did when they were in the best relationship of their life.

Phil gives him a sheepish smile. “I changed my flight so I could come home early and surprise you.”

Dan feels so much all at once, it reminds him of how it was in the early days, before the kids, before the fostering, before they even knew that they had feelings for each other. It’s overwhelming for a moment, and then Phil is tilting his chin, guiding their mouths together in a perfect kiss.

“Mm,” Dan hums against his lips. “I love you.”

Phil laughs. “Love you more.” His hand slips down Dan’s waist, his fingertips dipping just under the hand of Dan’s pants. Dan is hit with a wave of arousal so strong, and it’s not lost on him that it’s been more than a month since they had proper sex. He loved Natalie more than life itself, but raising a baby on top of the three children they already had was proving to be much more difficult than they’d anticipated. But after all they’d been through, the strain of no sex was nothing they couldn’t handle. After all, they’d gone ten years without it before.

Still, he’s only human, and when his husband is petting the soft skin at his hip, he can only react like any mortal man would. “Baby,” he sighs.

“Hm?”

It hits Dan what he’d just said, and he quickly remembers the other inhabitant of this room. “Phil. Phil, the baby,” he mumbles, tapping Phil’s arm.

“Already took care of her,” Phil replies back, kissing at Dan’s jaw.

“What? When?” Dan asks, pushing him back a bit.

Phil smiles. “When I got home. You were already asleep so I checked on the kids and then took Nat downstairs for a bottle and some cuddles.”

“Oh.” The image of that, of Phil coming in late and taking their baby down for her midnight bottle, is nearly enough to make Dan cry and definitely enough to turn him off. “Well, thank you for that, but I don’t think I feel like fooling around tonight, if that’s okay.”

Phil pecks him on the cheek with a little giggle. “Of course that’s okay, you idiot. I didn’t just come home early for that, you know. I mostly missed having my little space heater,” he says with a grin.

Dan rolls his eyes, but can’t help the way he smiles and leans in for another kiss. “Sometimes I think you only married me for my good looks and my stupidly hot body temperature.”

Phil kisses him back, but he’s smiling so hard that it’s sloppy. “Oh for sure. Those were my top two requirements for a husband. Is hot, runs hot.”

Dan snorts. “Right. So, father of your children was somewhere further down that list, I’m assuming?”

“Something like that,” Phil teases.

“You’re such an idiot,” Dan smiles, kissing Phil’s cheek before snuggling in for the night.

“But I’m your idiot,” Phil says in a stupid, sleepy voice.

Dan smiles, pressing one last kiss to Phil’s chest. “Always.”

#phan #phanfiction #parent!au #foster parent au #parent!phan #foster parent #bbc producer!phil #school counselor!dan #fake relationship #friends to lovers #best friends #if you don't love me pretend #iydlmp epilogue #epilogue #my fic

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wolf-and-bard · 3 years

Text

Of Witchers and Eggs

Summary: Basically what it says in the title. Geralt doesn’t know how to cook eggs (which Jaskier finds adorable and annoying), neither do Aiden and Lambert. Eskel does, but keeps getting bothered by a friend. Contains a handful of swear words. Length: 1.1k

Happy Easter, y’all! <3

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„Fuck,“ Geralt grumbles. „What now?“ He stares daggers into the chicken egg he holds with two fingers, as far away from himself as possible. It’s still warm and a feather clings to it, all courtesy of the little coop from which he stole a handful of them earlier.

„Have you ever even held an egg before?“ Jaskier replies with an unveiled mixture of joy and exasperation. They’ve been here before, but that doesn’t make it less uncomfortable for Geralt who squirms under the weight of his earlier promise.

I want to make something for breakfast. For you and Ciri. Something other than last night’s cold stew or a stale loaf of bread. Grand idea.

“Not never,” Geralt says, gaze swivelling between Jaskier, the egg, and the pan the bard put onto the simmering coals. No time like the present. His hand shakes lightly as he brings the egg to the edge of the pan just a smidge to forcefully. It cracks almost straight through and when Geralt tries to pry it open to fry it, it falls apart, splatters onto his and Jaskier’s thighs where they are pressed together. Some of it lands in the pan, complete with bits of shell in it.

“Oh dear,” Jaskier sighs, and rubs his forehead. He picks bits of shell out of the pan, then decides it’s hopeless and empties the whole thing into the grass. “How are you still alive, dear? I mean I was pampered as a child, but even I know how to fry some eggs.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” Jaskier grins and taps his finger against Geralt’s nose. It’s a bit slimy and cold from the eggs, but the motion has Geralt go cross-eyed and he wants so badly to try again. And again. Until he gets it right.

“I’m sorry.”

“No matter, I can teach you,” Jaskier says. He kisses Geralt softly, his bard, his stupidly forgiving companion, and Geralt draws him closer, cradles his chin. Who cares about eggs anyway?

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“Here you are, pup,” Aiden says with a yawn, joining Lambert by the stove in Kaer Morhen’s kitchen. They are both only half-dressed and the first to get upon this freezing winter morning, but Lambert seems wide awake and intent on bursting the handful of eggs on the counter by directing smothering looks at them. Aiden shrugs inwardly, he won’t even ask what they have done to him. Instead, he draws both arms around Lambert’s middle and nuzzles close. “Where’d those eggs come from?” They definitely aren’t chicken eggs, they’re smaller, grey-tinged and uneven in shape. Still, Aiden’s mouth waters at the thought of popping them into his mouth, nicely cooked with extra salt and pepper added. Why is his stomach always the first thing that’s awake about him?

“I collected them,” Lambert says. He has his palms braced on the counter on either side of the eggs, but leans into Aiden’s touch. His yellow eyes stay trailed on them.

“What? You went out already?” Aiden nibbles on the skin of Lambert’s shoulders, shuffles his feet closer. Jerks back. The hems of Lambert’s breeches are frozen solid and, on closer inspection, his lips are tinged blue. “Lambs, what the heck?”

“I thought we could cook them. You like cooked eggs, don’t you? There are a handful of nests in the stables and I know it’s not the season or whatever, but I did find these. We could have breakfast by the hearth.”

Aiden blinks. This counts among the sweeterthings Lambert has done for him. Luckily, Lambert’s foul mouth is the last thing about him that wakes up. He’s softer in the mornings, more prone to caring and being cared for. Aiden kisses him, then noses at the scratchy hollow of his cheek.

“Thanks… do you know how to cook eggs though?”

“Uhm, don’t you?” Lambert shoots back, eyes darting to Aiden for the first time. They look at each other for a long moment, then Aiden bursts into giggles, Lambert into growls.

“I have no clue.”

“But you eat them all the time.”

“Yes, when other people cook them.”

“It can’t be that hard though, can it?”

Aiden ponders it. It really can’t, they just have to boil it for a bit, right? But these aren’t even chicken eggs. “Let’s just… wait for Vesemir to wake up.”

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Eskel finds himself a nice rock in one of the smaller courtyards, one that is perfect for sitting on, feeling the burn of his muscles from the training sequence he’s just been through and smelling spring’s bloom which is clear and punctuated by soft winds up here in the mountains. After a hunt has left him with a shattered knee and several internal wounds, he decided to remain in Kaer Morhen until he feels fully himself again. The others left weeks ago, Vesemir the last one, and Eskel’s been enjoying the quiet, the peace. He only ever gets to see the spikes and hazards of the keep these days, it’s nice to see it come to life with warm sunlight and blossoms that burst through the cracks.

His knee creaks in protest when he sits, the day a warm kiss on his sweat-glistening skin, and his stomach rumbles. Eskel grins and pats it, then takes a hearty bite of the bread he prepared himself. After Lambert showed him all his secret spots for snatching eggs from nests, Eskel’s been living on a diet of them. They’re just neat. The slab of bread he holds now is buttered, overflowing with scrambled egg and dried herbs and just enough salt to leave him on the comfortable side of thirsty. Eskel’s about to take another bite when something nudges his bad knee.

“Oh,” he says and his grin widens. “Hello there, little one. How are you today?” Lil’ Bleater bleats happily and headbutts his knee again. A hiss of pain travels up Eskel’s leg, but he ignores it in favour of scratching the goat between the horns. It tries to lick at his food.

“Oh, no you don’t. This is mine, there’s plenty of grass and clover and what not around here for you to feast on.” Eskel pauses and tears a huge chunk from his bread which earns him a glare. Lil’ Bleater rears up a little, then quickly licks at the crumbs that have spilled onto Eskel’s thighs, the ground.

“Stop that, you’re going to get yourself sick. I don’t think goats are supposed to eat egg.”

The goat tosses its head, prances around him, licks at Eskel’s elbow. Eskel can feel his heart go soft. Fuck, what is it with these animals that make him so… so… silly. He sighs and holds out his bread. Lil’ Bleater sniffs at it, snorts, then stalks off.

“Told you so,” Eskel mutters. More for him then.

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