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ghostadventuresstuff · 3 years

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Zak Bagans (Vampire) x Reader

Y/N

You never did have the best track record when it came to being safe, it was as if danger and near-death followed you everywhere you went but your boyfriend Zak was mysteriously always there to save you. He'd make you drink some homemade medicine which would have you feeling brand new in a day or two. It cut down on hospital bills.

You and Zak were returning back from a date when your car was smashed into by a large truck, running you off the road and with enough force you're ejected from the car. You can hear Zak shouting your name as your vision starts to blur, he sounds fine but that's impossible because the two of you had just been in a car crash.

Sleep overcomes you and closing your eyes seems like a good idea, however before the darkness takes over you feel something wet on your lips. It was probably blood from a head injury but something inside you told you to part your lips slightly and swallow. It was as if you could hear Zak's voice in your head. Then the darkness overcame you.

*2 DAYS LATER*

You slowly start to open your eyes, you remember very little from the accident but you were adamant your injuries should have killed you. You sit up in bed, yours and Zak's bed to be precise and notice there's no sign of injury on your body.

On the bedside table is a glass of Zak's homemade medicine, you drink it without hesitation as you always did. Though this time you taste something metallic, you bring the glass up to your nose and sniff. Blood, that's what you can smell. But why would there be blood in the juice you just drank?

You needed to find Zak and get some answers because you were seriously starting to freak out. Carefully you climb out of bed only then noticing that Zak had put you in one of his shirts which reached your knees. What exactly happened after the crash? Zak should have been injured just like you.

Walking down the staircase you get to the bottom step where a patch of sunlight seeps through the front door window. The second the sun makes contact with your skin your foot starts to hiss and you jump back as you feel the skin on your foot blister. What was wrong with you? sunlight didn't normally burn people like that.

'Zak,' you call out.

You get no reply. Carefully you edge your way around the patch of sunlight on the stairs and edge your way into the living room. The curtains are wide open and sunlight floods the room, you instinctively cover your eyes with your hand which is odd because you're never normally sensitive to light like this. A stray beam hits your hand and you hiss in pain before jumping back into a patch of shadow by the bookcase.

You started to freak out, what was going on with your body? You'd never felt this weak before, back in bed you felt fine because the curtains were closed but now you felt the energy leaving your body. You begin to sob silently and sink to the floor clutching your hands over your knees. Maybe Zak can offer an explanation.

*EVENING*

Zak hadn't returned home all day leaving you trapped in the small shadow in the living room. You were unable to reach your phone, by now you had cried all the tears out of your body and had begun shaking uncontrollably. Then suddenly you hear the front door open and Zak casually drops his keys into the pot, he was whistling.

'y/n are you up?'

You try to stand up but your body is weak and you collapse back to the floor. You manage to knock over a book which causes Zak to run into the living room, his eyes scan the room frantically before they latch onto you. His face drops as he darts beside you in a second.

'What are you doing down here?' he speaks frantically.

You gasp, fighting for breath 'I woke up and you were gone. I came downstairs but the sunlight hurt me, I've been trapped here all day because the sun kept coming through the windows. Why did the sun hurt me?'

Zak glances over at the open curtains and curses under his breath. He examines your hand and foot which still has slight burn marks on them.

'I'll explain everything to you, babe, after you drink this.'

Next thing you know his eyes have turned black and his canines have extended and he's biting into his wrist. Your eyes bulge at the sight of blood trickling from the wound. You believed in the supernatural world, but Zak couldn't possibly be a vampire as he showed no signs. He was obsessed with Dracula but you simply thought it was a quirk.

'I never should have left you, I thought you'd take more time to heal. Come on drink up, it will make you stronger,' he says with urgency in his voice.

He brings his wrist up to your mouth and as much as you find the idea of drinking his blood repulsive, something inside you stirs and suddenly you're craving the crimson liquid.

You pull away after a minute or so and already you feel strength returning to your body. Zak stands up and brushes the dust off his trousers before bending down and scooping you up bridal style. You should have been more scared by the monster holding you in his arms, but he still looked and acted like the man you fell in love with.

'Let's get you back upstairs love,' he speaks softly.

Before you know it you're back in the bedroom and Zak is placing you back in bed, however, he doesn't leave this time. Instead, he climbs onto the bed next to you and rests your head on his chest as he starts to play with your hair.

'If you haven't already guessed it by now y/n I'm a vampire.'

You nod in understanding, 'yeah I kind of conned onto the whole black eyes, extended canines and blood. How old are you? And why did you lie to me? Oh yeah, and what the hell happened last night?'

Zak chuckles, 'I'm 150 give or take a few years, after a while vampires stop counting birthdays. Now the reason I lied to you is that I didn't want to lose you. That night when we met in the club I was at one of my lowest points where I craved blood and would kill anything with a pulse. I saw you sitting at the bar and as much as I wanted to drink your blood, I couldn't bring myself to physically harm you. When that creep was hitting on you I was jealous and protective, I did kill him by the way. But once I got to know you I knew I'd found the reason to switch my humanity back on.'

He sounded genuine, and it made you feel warm inside that he was jealous of another guy hitting on you.

'I'd just lost my job that day and was looking for a little adventure. Then you came along and I got to have my adventure, give or take a few times you talked me out of things for fear of my own safety,' you joke.

Zak sighs, 'It takes a lot to kill a vampire y/n, whereas humans are easy to break.'

It was your turn to chuckle, it felt like you were having a normal conversation with your boyfriend who just happened to be a 150-year-old vampire, 'we were in a pretty bad crash last night. What happened? Because my mind is drawing blanks after I passed out.'

'We were hit by an oil tanker, the driver was over the limit and unfortunately didn't die but chose to do a runner. You were thrown from the car and I fed you my blood to heal you, however, if a human dies with vampire blood in his system then they start the transition into becoming a vampire.'

That explained the weakness to sunlight and the weak body, Zak had turned you into a vampire because he didn't want to watch you die. However, you were curious about the transition and what happened to the driver.

'What happens during the transition?' You ask, genuinely interested and a little scared.

'You have to drink blood from a human. That glass I left you earlier which you drank contained the blood of the driver. He had no regard for your life and chose to run instead of calling an ambulance so I took his life to save yours.'

Okay so that explained what happened to the driver, his blood was in your system and that was turning you into a vampire. But you had so many more questions. Zak seemed relatively calm and willing to answer, after all, he had made you immortal without your consent.

'How can you walk in sunlight whereas it burned me?' you question.

Zak shifts himself from under you and pulls something out of his jacket pocket. It's a small black box, 'vampires can only walk in sunlight if they have a ring made by a witch, luckily I know a friendly witch who made mine. Here give me your hand y/n.'

You lazily lift your hand up while Zak pops open the little black box, inside is the prettiest ring you've ever seen. You can tell it was handcrafted and looks like it's been through the ages.

'Zak the ring is gorgeous,' you gasp.

Zak smirks and slips the ring out of the box, 'this was crafted by my father 170 years ago, he gave it to my mother and then my mum handed it to me and told me to only put it on the finger of the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my days with. I had the witch spell it so you'll be able to walk in sunlight, will you do the honours of marrying me y/n?'

Your mouth drops open, those were the last words you expected to come out of his mouth. Was this why he was out all day? You should have been flattered that he'd waited 150 years to find the right person, and you couldn't believe that person was you.

Ever since you were a little girl you'd always planned how you were going to get married. Maybe to a vampire wasn't the initial plan but things change, you were both vampires and that meant he'd be stuck with you for a very long time.

'Yes, Zak I will marry you.'

You've never seen a bigger smile on Zak's face than right now, he slides the ring onto your finger before pulling you in for a kiss. You smirk against his lips and pull away slightly.

'You do know you're now stuck with me, Zak.'

He chuckles, 'I think I can handle you y/n.'

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sapphireplums · 4 years

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You’re Not Alone

Description: Y/N Barber the twin sister of Jacob Barber decided to go for a jog one day, but who knew her whole life can change in matters of seconds.

Warnings: angst, language, sexual assault -DON'T READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE

Pairing: Andy Barber x Daughter!Reader Jacob Barber x Sister!Reader

A/N: if any of you guys have ever been assaulted in any type of way, i'm so sorry that has happened to you. you guys are all beautiful and strong human beings. if anyone wants to talk my inbox is open :)

While reading this, listen to lovely by billie eilish. it really sets the mood for the story.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BABES

A second. It only took seconds for you to not pick up your phone call from your brother. It was one of those moments where you did not to pick up the phone because you were distracted. But because of that, it almost cost you your life.

THREE HOURS BEFORE THE ASSAULT

♧

You and your older twin brother Jacob were walking home from school arguing about what dog is cuter. You know, the ususal twin stuff.

“No, Jake, German Shepherds are the cutest dog out.” You said with confidence.

“No, Y/N, Corgi’s are the cutest obviously.” Your twin brother kept saying. “ And I'm obviously right because I'm older than you by 49 seconds.”

He always used the ‘older twin’ card on you.

The argument lasted about a few minutes until you guys just gave up and agreed that they were both cute. However, in your mind , you kept saying German Shepherds were better.

“I’m hungry Jake. What do you think we’re going to have for dinner tonight?” You said as your stomach was rumbling.

“ You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jacob said with a smirk knowing that your twin telepathy was tingling.

“Ohhh yessss.” Then you both shouted at the same time:

“KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN.”

When you guys got home, you saw your mom on the couch typing something on her laptop.

“Hey kids, how was school today?” Laurie said looking up from her laptop.

“It was good mom” You said and you gave Jacob the look basically saying ‘tell mom we want kfc’

Jacob groaned. “Mom can we get kfc for dinner? Me and Y/N have been craving it for a while”

“Is that your guys’ twin thingy where you want the same thing and think the same thing?” Laurie said smiling at the thought of how her kids got along so well and had a strong sibling bond.

“ Yes mom, yes it is.” you said as chips were being stuffed into your mouth. “But can we actually get kfc though? Jake and I have been craving it for a while.”

“Sure you guys, I’ll pick it up around the time you dad will come home”

“Thanks Mom.” You both said at the same time.

Going up to your guys’ room, Jacob turned on his video games while you were watching YouTube.

He was talking to his gaming friend through the earpiece yelling words at him and the tv.

You just rolled your eyes and smiled slightly at your brothers actions. Closing your laptop, you looked outside the window and saw that it was a nice day, so you asked Jacob if he wanted to take a jog with you.

“ Hey Jake, do you want to take a jog with me? It’s really nice outside right now.”

“ Sorry, maybe not this time sis. I’m really into this game.” Jacob said making you frown slightly.

“It’s okay Jake maybe next time.” Jacob turned his head towards you and smiled in agreeance.

You got ready and then tied your shoes when you were near the door.

“Mom, I’m going for a jog!” You yelled as you finished tying your shoes.

“Okay honey be home before dinner.” Your mom said as she was washing the dishes.

Running around the block, you took in the fresh air of the moisture that was in the air. Living in Massachusetts also meant wet weather which you loved. Summer wasn't really your favorite season but it was Jacobs. Being twins doesn’t mean you all like the same thing.

You and Jacob had the best sibling relationship not because you were twins, but that you just bonded in general. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you and you thought the same.

Getting tired from the constant running, you decided to take a walking break and scroll through Instagram. As you were scrolling, your screen lit up with your dads contact picture. It was the two of you on a fishing trip making funny faces.

“Hey dad how’s work?” You asked slightly out of breath due to the running.

“ Hey Sweetheart, after work I’m going to go to the grocery store and get those cookies you really like and I was thinking you and I can have a movie night?”

“Dad, you know I’m always up for movie night” you chuckled. “What about Jake and mom?”

“Mom texted me saying that she was going to go shopping for swim trunks or something and Jake is going too so it's just going to be you and me.”

“Okay dad, sounds good to me can’t wai-”

“I’m sorry honey I have to go back now, I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

“I love you too dad.” He hung up the phone rather quickly but you didn’t think much of it because you were going to see him at home anyways

Well so you thought. You thought you were going to be home at your normal time. Thinking that it would just be another normal day, but it would be far from that.

After the short walking break and talking to your dad, you decided to start your jogging again. Jogging was one of the activities you liked to do after a long day to release the stress that was contained in you. Sometimes you would go with Jacob but today he didn’t feel like it.

Imagine if you just stayed on call a little longer with your dad or if Jacob went with you. Everything would be different. Every decision you make on a day to day basis affects your life.

When jogging, up ahead you saw a man drop a box full of what looked like children's toys like dolls and race cars. Being the nice person you were, You approached the man and helped him pick up the toys.

Oh what a big mistake.

“Oh, sir, let me help you with that,” you said bending down picking up the toys that were on the ground.

“Thank you so much, darling,” the man said with a somewhat creepy smile, but you brushed it off.

Your phone started to buzz and you saw your screen light up with Jacob’s face, but you ignored it as you were still helping the man. You were thinking of just calling Jacob back later when you had the chance.

If you had the chance.

After helping the man, he stated his thanks to you.

“Thank you again, honey,” you really started to get freaked out by this man especially since he was calling you these names.

You gave him a nervous smile. “ You’re welcome, but I should get going now,” you said but before you could turn around and go back home, the man grabbed your wrist tightly, preventing you from going anywhere.

“You are right where I want you sweetheart”

Before you could scream, he covered your mouth with a wet towel. The smell was really bad. Next thing you know, you’re knocked out like a light switch.

♧

You woke up with a pounding headache. Trying to flutter your eyes open, you noticed you were in the backseat of a van. The next thing you saw made you panic. Your hands tied with your feet attached to them making it look like a fetus position.

Before you could try and do anything, the man opened the doors to the van, revealing a wicked grin. Your eyes grew wide when he started to grow closer to you with duct tape.

“Shhh don’t worry love I won't take long.”

You were confused what he meant by that. What did he mean he won’t take long?

That’s when it hit you like a truck. You were about to get raped.

He started to put his hands around your breasts, trailing it up to your cheeks. He held your cheeks and stared into your eyes intently. This is when the tears started to come out. You couldn’t say anything since your mouth was duct taped, but you tried to move frantically though it didn’t do anything.

He started to take down his pants and he basically ripped your leggings in half.

Why did this have to happen? You were only being a good person, helping a man, and this is what happens in return.

DURING THE SAME TIME AT HOME

♧

Jacob was starting to get worried and anxious. It’s been over an hour and you wouldn’t answer your phone. He probably called you literally a hundred times but still no answer. He asked your mom to call you to see if you would answer.

It went straight to voicemail.

Jacob started to panic even more. He decided to call your guys’ dad to see if he knows where you were.

The line started to ring. Then he picked up.

“Hey Jake, I was wondering if-” he was cut off by Jacob frantically asking him if he knew where you were.

“Dad! Did Y/N ever call you or anything?” Jacob frantically said to his father.

“ I talked to her about a couple hours ago, is everything alright?

“I-I don’t know dad. She didn’t come home after her jog and I’m getting a really bad twin vibe”

“Shit, okay Jake, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” With that Jacob hung up the phone.

“God Y/N/N, I hope you’re okay” Jacob said with tears on the verge of coming out.

When you woke up, you noticed that the familiar smell around your mouth. The man must have knocked you out. A burning pain was prominent in the lower half of your body. Everything started to come together. With your ripped pants and the bruises all over your body, you pieced everything together.

You were raped.

All of the thoughts in your head, you didn’t even notice that you were not in the van anymore, no, you were at a park.

This park was all too familiar. It was the park you and Jacob loved when you were kids. You got up but fell back down due to the agonizing pain.

The pain was unbearable. Tears threatening to come out of your eyes when you wanted to forget what happened.

But you couldn’t forget.

You laid there on the cold cement floor.

♧

The Barbers were in panic when they couldn’t find you. They had called the cops after being gone for six hours.

The police didn’t find you yet and frankly, they were doing a lousy job at it.

“Fuck it, I’m going to go for a drive and see if I find her” Andy said while stomping towards the front door.

“I’m coming with you.” Jacob said without question.

His baby sister was missing, he couldn’t just stay home and do nothing. Andy shook his head.

“No, Jake you need to stay here with your mother.” Before Jacob could object, a officer wanted to question him maybe knowing where you could be.

Andy drove around the neighborhood first, but no luck. He drove about another couple blocks where he stumbled upon a park. He knew the park. It was you and Jacob’s favorite park.

He slowly drove past the park to see if there was any luck. At this point, Andy almost gave up and went back home until he saw something.

Andy’s eyes widened with fear and joy when he saw you, his baby girl, at the park. But his smile fell when he saw you laying on the ground.

What if you were dead? Andy thought to himself

“ Oh my God, Y/N!!!” Andy basically sprinted towards you.

You could barely get out the words since your throat was sore from crying so much.

“Daddy?!” You said weakly with tears on your cheeks and your eyes bloodshot from the crying.

“Y/N what happened?”

But before you could answer, he saw your ripped pants, bruises on your body and the blood coming out near your legs.

“Oh my God, Y/N please tell me you weren’t raped?” Andy said with sadness but also extreme anger knowing that there was a bastard out there who possibly touched you.

You could barely get out the words but all you said was “ I was d-daddy.”

Andy was furious at this point his worst nightmare came true.

“ Y/N I’m so sorry. If only I stayed on the phone with you a little longer I could have-” You interrupted your father knowing this wasn’t his fault.

“Dad, this was not your fault.”

Andy still looked at you with sad eyes, but despite what happened to you, he was just happy that you were alive.

“Come on baby let's go home” Andy said while carrying you bridal style.

“ I’m so sorry dad. I was just helping this one guy and-and he-”

You started to stumble on your words but your dad stopped you.

“ No no baby you don’t have to say anything now. But know Duffy might ask you some questions so we can catch the guy okay?”

You just nodded at your dads words not wanting to say anything.

♧

On the drive home Andy heard you sniffling he reassured you with comforting words.

“Honey, it’s okay, you’re safe now nobody is going to hurt you now.”

You thought back to when Jacob was calling you. “ You know Jake called me when I was helping that man,” you started. “ If only I answered his call this probably wouldn-”

You were cut off by your father. “Y/F/N do not say that. None of this was your fault it was that son of a bitches fault”

You were taken aback when your dad cussed and then you chuckled softly. “Woah dad, I didn’t know you tolerated that type of language”

Andy just laughed, but before you could say anything else, you noticed you were home.

Jacob and Laurie were outside talking to police officers, but they turned around and saw you in the car.

Jacob eyes widened and was the first to run towards you and give you a hug. When he broke the hug, he looked at you and saw your bruises which made him fume with anger, but he would worry about that later. He was just happy you were home.

“Y/N oh my god are you okay?!” you just nod your head.

You went to give Laurie a hug which lasted short when a voice spoke up.

“ Hi Y/N, I’m detective Duffy, I work with your father and I’m sorry to ask you this but we need to question you while your mind is fresh.”

“Duffy can’t this wait until later we just found her.” Andy said while looking back at his daughter.

“No dad it’s okay I’ll be fine.” Jacob gave you sad eyes of sympathy, but you gave him a reassuring smile.

♧

“So Y/N, tell me from the start of what happened?” Your family was there to support you. You wanted them to be there.

You started from the beginning with the jog, the man dropping the toys, the chloroform, the van, the pain in your lower area, everything.

Laurie just cried into Andy’s shoulders while his fists were clenched white. He was so angry. No, not at you, but at the fact that he couldn’t protect you.

Jacob held your hand the entire time while you told Duffy what happened. He was angry that he didn’t go on the jog with you. He was mad that he couldn’t protect his baby sister.

“Im so sorry this has happened to you Y/N, you should have not gone through that. We will find the man and he will be punished for his crimes.”

You nodded and smiled slightly at Duffy.

♧

After all the cops left, you didn’t know what to do. You were still traumatized.

Your head was resting on Andy’s lap and your legs were on Jacobs. You were dozing off, but you were scared to sleep or eve close your eyes.

Everytime you closed your eyes, you just saw the man. Jacob seemed to notice this because you flinched a little.

He rubbed your leg with reassurance telling you that you’re okay now.

“ Y/N you can finally sleep now. We’re here for you, you don't have to worry about anything.” Jacob said to you

That's when everything broke. You couldn’t handle it anymore tears and sobs were everywhere.

Your family all gave you a hug with love evident in it. This is when you finally knew you were safe.

You then spoke up while drying your tears. “Can we still get KFC?” you said with a smile. Everyone just laughed and that’s when you finally knew you had a loving family and you couldn’t be anymore thankful than that.

♧

A/N :OMGGg I cried writing some of this ahhhh. I might make a part 2 depending if I get any ideas and if this doesn’t flop.

Taglist for ‘You’re Not Alone’;OPEN

@cloudystevie

Permanent Taglist; OPEN

@tvckerlance @lozzypoz321 @princess-evans-addict

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thatshithurted8 · 4 years

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Trauma

Summary: After a sudden revelation you and JJ look at each other in a different light.

Request: Hi! Can you do a request where jj and y/n ‘hate’ eachother, constantly fight and bicker. So John B and the gang truck them into getting stuck on Hayward’s boat and leave them for the night. When jj gets high he notices she gets anxious. He persuades her to reveal a sensitive side that she doesn’t like being around drugs because of her abusive dad. Jj doesn’t tell her he can relate just that he understands. He tells her that she’s beautiful and she deserves better, in his own jj way;)💗I love u @maybebanks

Trigger Warnings: Mention and depiction of overdoses, drug use, death and abuse!!

Word Count: 2.3k

When John B and the rest of the gang drove away from Heywards boat leaving you and the boy you despised the most, JJ Maybank alone you weren’t that mad. They weren’t going to leave you guys there over night. Surely they were going to come back and get you guys from the middle of the marsh so you two wouldn’t kill each other. Or so you thought.

A few hours went by, your friends have yet to return and the sun just finished setting. This is when the situation at hand finally hit you. You were stuck out in the middle of the marsh with JJ and no one else. Yea you could’ve continued what you were doing all evening which was ignore the blue eyed boy and do your own thing.

However, as the stars and moon shone down on you both and the smell of weed filled your nostrils you couldn’t help, but feel anxious. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your breathing started to become labored. You despised the smell of weed and feeling abandoned was the cherry on top. Knowing the signs of a panic attack you decide to sit down against the edge on the other side of the boat than JJ. As you do this the blond looks over at you and watches you wrap a blanket around your body before resting your head on your knees.

Despite your distaste for the Maybank boy his feelings towards you weren’t reciprocated. Yes he wasn’t fond of you especially after the first time he met you, he made a joke about you not smoking or drinking when Kie invited you to hang out, but he didn’t know why you weren’t interested in that stuff. He simply thought and still believes that you can’t take a joke. JJ hated people that couldn’t take a joke considering most of those people were Kooks. And after all you used to be a Kook when your mom was alive. As if your old social status actually mattered to anyone else though.

Finally speaking up after basically a whole evening of silence JJ opens his mouth. “You know they obviously left us here to become friends so you should make an attempt at least.”

You roll your eyes looking down at the floor between your open legs, your head still resting on your knees. He was right you should make an attempt to befriend him, but right now wasn’t a good time to try or for JJ to make a snarky remark about it.

Ignoring him, you try your best to focus on your breathing to prevent a panic attack. You hated having panic attacks in the first place, but there was no way you were going to let JJ see that side of you. You had to stay strong like you always were.

Rolling his blue eyes JJ stands up and sits back down beside you. Since you were so focused on your breathing you didn’t realize he was now by your side.

“Ignoring me isn’t helping Y/N.” He says, annoyance dripping from his voice.

JJ’s remark and the smell of weed being closer to you now was your last straw. You couldn’t hold in the panic attack anymore. Suddenly a gasp for air leaves your mouth as tears begin to fall down your face.

Confused, JJ looks over at you and notices your body shaking. Even though you weren’t his most favourite person in the world you were still apart of his friend group and the blonde would do anything for them.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” He asks genuinely concerned, placing the roach of his joint down beside him.

He places a hand on your back as you begin to sob into your hands and knees, but you move away, not wanting him to touch you. He retracts his hand, but grows even more confused and concerned. During the span of knowing you JJ has never seen you cry so he was genuinely confused as to why you were. What triggered it?

As the sound of your sobs filled JJ’s ears he felt inclined to make you feel better despite your distaste for each other.

“Talk to me Y/N.” He simply says.

You finally look over at the boy beside you, your eyes red and cheeks stained with tears. Seeing you like this flipped a switch in JJ that he wasn’t even aware of. All of a sudden he wanted to take care of you or just simply hold you. You looked so broken and JJ understood the feeling.

Without saying anything JJ scoots over to you and wraps his arms around you. Surprisingly you don’t pull away from his grasp. Instead you simply move closer into to his chest, desperately craving any type of loving touch. The blonde boy rubs his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion which you appreciate.

A few minutes go by, both you and JJ allow you to ride out your panic attack, but he made sure to show that he was there for you by holding onto you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly, looking down at you in his arms.

“Not right now.” You stutter out, still reeling from the physical and mental attack you just went through.

“Well do you want to light up? It should make you feel better.” The blonde suggests even though he knows you don’t like participating in that type of stuff.

You simply shake your head no and close your eyes while resting against his chest. “Suit yourself, but I’m going to.” He says digging through his cargo shorts pocket with his free hand for another joint.

JJ notices you sharply inhale as he does this which makes him hesitate for a second, before deciding to leave it in his pocket. “Why don’t you smoke or drink?”

The Maybank boy would always make fun of you for not participating in the same activities as the rest of the Pogues, but he just realized he doesn’t know why you don’t do that stuff.

A minute or two go by and JJ was about to ask you again, thinking you didn’t hear him, but in reality you were just trying to figure out what to say. You sigh, but not realizing you start to play with JJ’s fingers to calm yourself down.

“Do you know how my mom died?” You simply ask.

“No.” He says allowing you to continue to play with his fingers.

You were quite surprised by his answer in all honesty. Basically everyone on the island knows what happened to your family and their downward spiral to misfortune.

“She died from an opioid overdose.”

JJ’s dilated eyes widen at your answer, not expecting that to be the cause of your moms death. “Shit sorry Y/N I didn’t know.”

You simply shrug your shoulders. “It’s not a requirement for you to know that.” You say in a monotone voice as you start to think about your deceased mother.

A silence falls over the two, but for the first time ever it wasn’t awkward. JJ realized he knew hardly anything about you and he was genuinely curious to find out more, but he didn’t want to push you. So he simply started to graze his fingers up and down your wrist, moving your bracelets up an down as he does so.

Although it was dark out and the only light was coming from the moon and a small light outside of the cabin JJ noticed something on your skin. Along your wrist and up your forearm were round scars that looked like they resembled cigarette burns.

He looks down at the round marks on your arm then gazes at his legs that had similar marks along them. Someone was using you as their personal ash tray like how JJ’s father used to do.

“What are these from?” He asks, tracing his finger around one scar.

Once you realize what JJ is talking about you start to readjust yourself in his arms, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing.”

JJ bites his lip, deciding whether he should continue talking or not and he eventually decides to continue. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I have them too.” He says moving away from you to show you the scattered scars along his legs before turning slightly and lifting up his shirt to show the healed marks on his back. At a loss for words you simply ogle at the boy beside you in shock. Even though he didn’t straight up say what happens when he goes home he showed you that he understands which oddly made you feel not so alone. Who knew you guys had something so terrible in common?

He lets his shirt fall back down and wraps his arm around your shoulders once again. You suck in a breath of fresh air as thoughts swarmed your mind. You didn’t know why, but in that moment JJ made you feel so comfortable around him that you felt inclined to tell him the deep dark truth about why you don’t do certain things.

“When people ask why I don’t drink or smoke I say it’s because of my mom.” You say grabbing a hold of JJ’s fingers once again. “Her death is a big reason as to why, but once she died my whole life went downhill. My dad didn’t cope with her death well and I can’t get mad at him for that, but he started to abuse drugs like she did.” JJ glances over at you resting on his shoulder as he listened intently to you speaking.

“My dad started to spend money on anything and everything. Then one day he went to a meeting for an important business deal, high out of his mind on coke and of course he got fired. After that we lost the house, the boat, and his car. We lost everything. And you would think that would’ve been a wake up call for him.” You say removing your head from the blondes shoulder and meeting JJ’s gaze.

JJ simply nods his head in understanding, but you take that as a hint to go on. “He only got more angry and agitated since then. He started to take his anger out on me and my brother, but mostly me because I look more like my mom.” You say glancing at the moon then back to JJ’s blue orbs.

He couldn’t believe how similar your guys’ home life was. For starters JJ’s dad started abusing alcohol and drugs once his mom passed away as well. She died of cancer and JJ’s dad felt like it was his fault since he couldn’t afford chemotherapy. JJ’s fathers built up guilt and anger against the world for taking his wife away from him ultimately festered into him beating JJ every chance he got. It also didn’t help that JJ was a constant reminder of her just by his looks.

You suck in another deep breath just before you tell JJ, the guy you despised just hours ago the most personal and sensitive thing about yourself. “It was yelling matches at first then one day he just started physically attacking me. First he slapped me a few times or pulled my hair or even pushed me down the stairs. Occasionally he would put out his cigarettes on me. Then he eventually pinned me up against a wall and held a broken beer bottle against my throat.” You say, the look on your face expressionless and your eyes dull because you were used to it. When you shouldn’t be. No one should.

As you reveal this to JJ he feels his heart clench and wince at your sentences. He understands the pain that you have and are going through more than you know. But as you tell him this he starts to connect the dots. Suddenly waking up at John B’s in the morning to see you sleeping out in the hammock or on the living room floor made sense. Or seeing you wear heavy amounts of make up on parts of your face when you hardly ever wore make up, or how you spent more time at Kiara’s and John B’s than he himself did.

You open your mouth to tell him some other things such as how you haven’t been home since that day he pinned you against the wall or how your brother is fine and misses you, but he stops you. Although he wanted you to be comfortable enough with him to tell him those things it was starting to get too much for him. JJ’s own dark memories and demons were starting to cloud his mind and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be there for you the way John B and Pope are there for him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry you have gone through that. No one deserves to go through that.” He says turning towards you while moving a stray hair out of your face. You shrug your shoulders and give him a sad smile. After all of these years your father has made you believe that you deserve everything he does to you.

Another moment of silence falls upon you two, but JJ breaks it to speak his mind, he could tell you didn’t believe what he previously said. “You know you’re beautiful right? And although we started on the wrong foot I’m willing to be arrested again if your dad lays even a finger on you.” The blue eyed boy says, revealing his protective side which was very on brand JJ. You chuckle and nudge the boy away from you lightly. Even though you were originally anxious and upset that your friends left you two out in the middle of the marsh you are actually quite grateful they did.

“You can have the pull out couch at John B’s for now on.” JJ says scooting back over to you.

You appreciate JJ’s offer, but you can’t help, but turn it down. “No because you wouldn’t have a place to sleep then.”

“Then we’ll have to figure something out together.” JJ suggests wrapping his arm back around you.

And what JJ said was true. From that moment on you two made an effort to be there for each other while navigating each others trauma.

I have linked some websites and resources for people going through similar situations as JJ and reader in this fic. Please do not hesitate to reach out to me if need be I will try to help you to the best of my ability!

P.S: You all are strong, beautiful and loved. Don’t forget that.

https://togetherweare-strong.tumblr.com/helpline

http://www.vachss.com/help_text/hotlines_intl.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines

https://pathwaystosafety.org/

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

First love | yandere!virgin!jjk

▎ 18+ ▎ xtremity; 2 ▎ pairing: sub!jjk x femdom!y/n ▎ genre:smut ▎ word count: 3.2k ▎ warnings: sexual tension/pining, cursing, oral(f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex.

Request by anon: Could I request yandere virgin jungkook smut where hes in love with the reader who's a tattoo artist and one day they hook up?

He's been hopelessly in love with you for what feels like an eternity at this point, but in reality it has only been for approximately a year.

But it did feel like an eternity, so it might as well have been.

Jungkook first met you when he was looking to get his first tattoo, and ended up contacting your business to personally ask you about your work, and you had gladly tended to his needs and made him feel incredibly comfortable within the first few seconds. He knew, even when he'd simply only heard your voice, that he felt something.

And eventually he had gotten his first tattoo from you, and his second, and third...

As of now he had several tattoos covering his arms and hands, all from the one and only person he ever wants to mark his body with art.

He cherished every little piece you've created on his skin with every fibre of his being, feeling nothing but joy everytime he looks himself in the mirror.

Ever since you met Jungkook one year ago, he's grown into a handsome, confident man that you've grown fairly close to, probably because you've spent more time with him than any other client in your studio. Conversations were awkward at first, and he was very nervous, but quickly you made him feel at ease with your skills with the needles.

And with time, spending time together with this beautiful man, came the flirtation. He'd grown more bold lately, he's been working out a whole lot more. If his growth in frame was anything to go by.

Tonight you were about to definitely see this upclose.

Jungkook called you in the middle of the day, seemingly not as busy as you.

Before you could answer with your automatic work-response, he beats you to it,

''Y/N, I want to get another tattoo.''

You scoff, ''Another? You literally got one last week.''

You weren't wrong, he mused. But he was addicted to you. The pain from the needle, the touch of your hands. He craved it more than any drug.

''I keep your business running.'' He laughed, and you mirrored it. He always found ways to tease and make you laugh in one go.

''Well, what do you have in mind?''

''Surprise me.''

''Okay.. We can figure it out. Any idea where you'd want it?''

Jungkook ponders for a moment before whispering, ''Chest, maybe...?''

You inhale deeply from your nose at the thought, ''Chest... That one hurts a lot, kook. Are you sure?''

He groans internally at the thought, he really hoped it would hurt,

''I trust you. Are you free today? I can come by right now.''

You check your empty schedule, remaining silent for a second to make it seem like you were actually checking for an empty slot,

''Yeah, I'm free.''

Jungkook's lips curl up in a wide, teethy grin, ''See you soon, then.''

He hangs up, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of his face as he bounces with joy on his couch.

Loving you was the best thing in the world.

The bell chimed when Jungkook entered your studio, he scanned the surroundings, noticing that there was nobody else here but you.

He saw you sitting by your desk, working on a tattoo sketch with the utmost focus. He could tell by the way your tongue poked out to wet your lips, eyes fixed on the perfect lines you created on the paper, you didn't even notice when he came in.

Jungkook doesn't say anything, simply admires your beauty and professionalism. He felt so lucky to be in love with you, you were just perfect. Gorgeous. Smart. Everything he wants. Slowly, he sneaked closer to get a little peek on what you're working on, standing just close enough to lean over behind you to observe.

He inhales quietly, the smell of your clothes was his absolute favorite, the mild scent of laundry detergent. You rarely used perfumes, and for that his sensitive nose was thankful, and fell even deeper in love with you. Sometimes he'd even buy the same detergent to make sure his clothes smelled the same.

It isn't until Jungkook inhales in a little too hard through his nose due to an itch that you hear him, jumping in your seat with a yelp as you turn around to give Jungkook a fist to the cheek. whack!

''Fucking hell Jungkook, you scared the living shit out of me!''

You held your hand to your chest with widened eyes, looking at Jungkook whom was just as shocked as you by your reaction.

''Ouch, you're stronger than you look.'' Is all he said as he rubbed his reddened cheek, but smiled nonetheless. You punched him, but he wasn't even mad about it. He oddly... enjoyed it, another mark on his body because of you, reminding him that he's alive. That's really as deep as his love goes for you. The only thing making him feel truly alive.

''And you're a lot lighter in your steps than you look, fuck, are you okay?'' You stand up to remove his hand from his cheek to take a closer look at his cheek that now had a small cut from your ring-clad fingers.

He breathed out a chuckle, but inhaled just as quickly when you grazed his cheek with your fingertips. Your touch heated his body up with several degrees at an instant.

You noticed his subtle reaction, you always did, you were incredibly observant when it came to people. You weren't quite sure if it was because of the pain, or because of you, but a part of you kind of hoped it was the latter.

Growing bolder yourself, the pads of your fingers travelled down to his jawline, eyes fixed on the way the muscles danced underneath his skin when he clenched it.

He's definitely affected by you.

''Would you like to take a look?''

Jungkook swallowed, ''W-what?''

You withdrew your hand, and to that Jungkook had an internal protest at the loss of your touch.

''I finished the sketch for your tattoo.''

Jungkook relaxes slightly, a part of him disappointed. He thought you meant something else,

''Ah, yes. Let's check it out!''

You sat back down in your chair and Jungkook sat down in the seat for clients, expectantly waiting for you to roll over and show him. He grabs the piece of paper and inspects it, a smile growing on his lips.

''What do you think?''

He looks at you, teeth on full display in his sweetest bunny-like smile that creates small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes,

''I love it. Let's go!''

The buzzing sound of the needles digging into his skin was the only noise filling the room for a hot minute, but with time Jungkook's small grunts in pain joined in.

It was definitely a lot more painful than he expected it to be. However, being the glutton for pain that he is, he loved it. Especially since it was coming from your hands.

The buzzing stops and you look at him with furrowed brows, slightly rubbing your thighs together. His noises were getting a tad bit too erotic for your ears.

''Are you holding up okay, kookie? Need a break?''

He exhales deeply when you stop, a small layer of sweat had built up on his forehead and neck, making his skin glisten in the most delicious way as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes,

''I'm okay... I-is there a lot left?''

You shake your head, ''Almost finished, you've been doing so well.''

He shines at your praise, a light breathy chuckle rolling off of his lips. He might as well have had you between his legs at this point considering the state he's in. He had put his t-shirt over his crotch to hide his half hard cock, slightly embarrassed by how insanely affected he is by this.

''Okay, okay... Finish it please.''

You bite your lip, wondering if he really thought you were oblivious to his current state.

You weren't. But you said nothing, because you enjoyed the almost fucked out look on his face.

The buzzing continued, finishing off the piece as you listened to the weak, choked out whimpers he's trying so desperately to hold back.

''Voila! A masterpiece has been created.'' You practically beam out with pride as you put the needle down with one hand and wiping his skin with the other before inspecting it properly. His chest heaved up and down with shallow, ragged breaths as he looked down as well, a small smile on his lips when you await his reaction,

''I l-love it so much, wow!''

You nod, a wide smile once more on your lips as you cover his tattoo with the plastic to protect his skin.

''Now, you already know the routines of this, so I'm assuming I don't gotta do a reminder.''

He shrugs, ''I know how to take care of my tattoos, don't worry.'' Looking up at you, he winks, making you scrunch your nose a little before rolling closer to him on your chair. His smile drops when you lean closer to his ear to whisper,

''Are you just never gonna tell me how badly you want me?''

Jungkook coughs, choking on his own air,

''W-w-what?!''

You smirk, crossing your arms over your chest,

''You really think I'm that dumb? It's so obvious that you're a glutton for my needles, you're a complete mess every single time. And you keep coming back. Do you want me?''

His eyes widen, the cocky attitude he usually rocks completely washed off of him when your bluntness hits him like a truck, now blushing as he looks down in his lap, running his fingers through his hair several times as a common ritual of his during nervosity.

You tsk your tongue when he doesn't respond right away, making him raise his eyebrows in slight annoyance.

''I guess you don't... Well–'' You stand up and walk towards the entrance to have him leave, but before you're able to, his large hand grabs onto your wrist to yank your body against his, clashing your face into his chest with a thump.

''Fuck! What?'' You take a step back while looking up at him, his expression more stern this time, clearly annoyed but also slightly nervous. His tongue rolled on the inside of his cheek as if he's in thought while staring at your expression.

''Y/N, you're making such rash assumptions before you even let me answer... How rude.''

He cocks an eyebrow as a tease, taking one step closer to close the distance once more, feeling the heat radiate off of his bare torso. You feel your mouth salivate already.

''Rude, hm? Then answer me quicker.''

Jungkook pouts, blowing raspberries at you before leaning down slightly to stare directly into your eyes.

''Yes.''

''Yes?''

Jungkook licks his teeth, one hand carefully moving to smooth the pad of his fingers over your jaw down to your throat,

''I want you.''

His face falls as soon as he says so, softer and more genuine,

''But I have to tell you something then...''

You cup his face with your much smaller hands, lips barely grazing as you speak,

''You can tell me anything, kookie.''

His breath coats your lips when he exhales the words out quietly,

''I've never done this before.. I-I mean... y-yeah..''

You tilt your head, ''No way, you're not a Virgin.''

Jungkook chuckles, ''I'm serious.''

You gesture with a hand running down the skin of his torso down to the hem of his pants, ''Looking like this, you've never had anybody? It's quite unbelieveable Jeon Jungkook.''

He exhales a shaky breath at the way you used his full name, shuddering under your touch, ''I'd never lie to you, I mean it.. So, please..''

You quickly swap the 'OPEN' sign by the door to 'CLOSED' before pulling at the hem of his pants, leading him to the back of the studio. He gladly followed, loving your clear enjoyment of dominance over him.

Jungkook gasps when you suddenly turn around to press his back against the wall, looking up at him with a tiny smirk before crashing your lips against his. He seemed to be surprised, but with the way his hands quickly came to grab onto your waist to pull your body closer to his own, you could tell he was extremely into this.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavier against your lips as he speaks,

''Y/N, I want you.''

You nod, your fingers already playing with the button of his pants as you stare at his newly tattooed chest for a second before smirking back up at him, ''I want you too. What else do you think we're doing right now?''

He smiles, kissing you once more before removing his pants with you, an already rock hard erection for you as he Breathes out a nervous 'hah',

''I really want you... But...I'm a little nervous.''

''Yeah? Why is that, kookie?''

He bites his lower lip, groaning quietly when your hands roam down his exposed abs to his pelvis,

''I-I really like you, and...''

You nod, ''I really like you too.''

He shakes his head, a shameless moan rolling off his lips as you pull down his boxers to stroke his length,

''Ah fuck–.. No, I mean... It's my first... My first time.''

You nod, stroking him gently, ''Your first time. I still can't believe you.

He nods, biting his lip as he watches your hand wrapped around his length with awe. You don't let go, slowly still pleasing him but your face was displaying disbelief,

''No way... I mean, look at you...''

He leans harder against the wall as he's slowyl losing his focus, shaking his head,

''I promise. I'd never- s-shit.. I'd never lie to you, Y/N..''

You smile a little at his state, stroking him a little faster, ''Yeah? You'd always tell me the truth?''

He nods, knees going weaker.

''Good to know.'' You ended the conversation there, withdrawing your hands to strip yourself off of all clothes. He stares at you with awe as if he's never seen a naked woman before... Of course he had, many times. But they weren't you.

As if he was possessed by new courage, he grabbed you to switch positions, now pushing you against the wall instead, pressing his hot body against yours as he starts kissing your neck, down to your breasts. You moan out for him, hands tangling into his dark locks as his kisses move down lower and lower until he drops to his knees in front of you. His doe eyes stare up at you, the way he smiles up at you with squinted eyes before closing the distance between his tongue and your cunt makes your entire body shake with excitement.

''Ah, Y/N... You're already wet.'' He whispers, a tone of both arousal and surprise. His tongue gets braver, more experimental as he slips it between your folds with greed. He was always greedy, and tried so hard at everything he did. This was no exception, ''You taste to good, shit...''

''Keep doing that, Jungkook, please... use your fingers.'' You command with a breathy voice. He loved when you used his real name, cock twitching from the way you told him what to do, and he gladly obeyed.

As you wished, he spread your legs further apart, never once letting his tongue leave your cunt as he pushes a finger inside of you. You hold onto his hair and lean back against the wall as leverage, grinding your hips against his mouth already. He adds Another finger, pumping them slowly in and out of you in a 'come hither' motion to hit that spot inside of you as he alternates between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit.

''I-I'm gonna cum, keep doing that, oh god, fuck!''

He speeds up his tongue, but keeps his fingers rhythmic and deep as he works you over the edge, the orgasm hitting you like a wave as you moan out in pleasure, digging your fingers into his hair, making him moan out with you in both pain and pleasure.

Legs shaking, he holds your hips as he stands up to Place kisses on your lips.

''Did I do well?''

You nod with a scoff, ''Yeah, yeah you did well.. If you couldn't tell.''

He gave you a shit-eating grin, ''I just wanted you to say it... Now, I still...want more.''

You feel his aching, rock solid erection pressing against your stomach as he Breathes warmly against your lips.

''Are you sure you want this? I mean, with me?''

Jungkook frowns, pulling you into a hug where he kisses your cheek before whispering into your ear, ''I've never been so sure in my entire fucking Life.''

That being enough, Jungkook finally puts use to his strength to press you up against the wall, one of your legs pulled up by the back of your knee as he lines himself up with your sopping entrance, ''I've wanted this for so long.''

You figured he meant having sex in general, but he truly meant to finally have you. Claim you as his with his own body. Give you himself.

''Let me know if you like it differently...'' He says quietly, waiting for your nod as he resumes to simply do what he wants to, which is to waste no more time. He pushes his cock inside of you, drawing gasps and small moans from your and his own lips. He stops when he's filled you up completely, breathing out in bliss as he feels your warmth embrace his length,

''You feel so...s-shit...so tight..''

You smile, and he leans in to kiss you, sucking on your lower lip as he begins to thrust his hips against yours in a feverish greed. Your body feels so good, your cunt squeezing him, no fucking feeling could ever beat this one.

Well, for the next few minutes.

''You're so big, Kookie..'' You whimper, and his cock grew ever harder inside of you, hands holding onto you roughly as he fucks into you with all the power and energy as he's got, sweat building on his brow and shallow, heavy breaths mixing with his groans in pleasure.

''I'm gonna cum soon, Y/N, I'm s-sorry...''

You encourage him, squeezing your cunt around his cock as you feel his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm into a sloppy, hungry movement to chase his orgasm.

''Oh my god, I'm ... I'm cumming..'' He whines, giving a couple more hard thrusts before stilling inside of you, a guttural groan erupting from his chest as he fills you up with his cum.

You have your arms wrapped around his neck, sliding down the wall as he drops to his knees with you in his arms. You hug eachother, leaning against the wall with Heavy breaths and sticky bodies.

You withdraw to look at his fucked out expression, and he puts his forehead on yours.

''Y/N.''

''Hm?''

''I want you.''

''You just had me.''

No, not like that, he thought. He loves you. He needs you.

Jungkook chuckles, running his fingers through your hair as he sighs,

''And it was Amazing. Did I live up to your expectations?''

You squeeze his cheek between your thumb and index finger,

''Of course, you're gonna have to do it again though to make sure.''

He bites his lip, leaning in to kiss you once more. He was so addicted to you, he didn't even want to let you go right now, or ever,

''Round two? I swear you'll fall in love with me if you give me one more chance.''

''Round two it is.''

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #sub jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn

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noirlevity · 3 years

Text

SCENT

Pairing: TadaAi Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity Synopsis: Ainosuke once loved Tadashi, but ever since he broke his heart, he decided to never have anything to do with him. But what happens if he meets him again after so many years and finds out a secret that will change both of their lives forever? Tags: Omegaverse, forced bonding, forced marriage, sorta angst, slow burn Read: AO3 || ff.net

It is not distracting. Since it starts as a faint, dull kind of aroma, it doesn't smell tacky even if he is near. The scent becomes sweet and heavier in the air instead. But it isn't the kind that hurts the lungs. Rather it is like there is a shower of rose petals. It's all softness and sweetness, there is no pelting and coldness like when it rains, nor does it have the burning sensation on the skin caused by the scorching summer sun.

Describing it as intoxicatingly sweet is an understatement. It is more than that. It is a scent that he knows with his whole being, like something made especially for him; something that has always been there. It is too familiar a sensation to say he just discovered it. Yet the word “familiar” is not intimate enough for it to be called that. It is something that was close enough to be called his but it is not something that is in his possession nor a part of himself.

What is this called? Is there a word for it? He sometimes wonders.

This he is sure of: he is the only one who can smell it.

Ainosuke Shindo is someone who is sensitive to scents. Sometimes it can get too much for his senses. However, the sweet smell that Tadashi gives off is not one of these. It is the only strong scent he likes.

He waits like he always does. The smell will tell him whether Tadashi has already arrived. After all, it is about time Tadashi visits the mansion. He is looking forward to it. The wait could not be shorter, he wants to talk to him about many things; he wants to tell him many things; ask him many things.

Finally, he catches that familiar sweet scent from his room and beams. He runs to the garden and finally sees him--Tadashi. Tadashi is the son of his Father’s gardener, Mr. Kikuchi. He comes to visit their house sometimes to help his father.

When he sees him, Tadashi smiles gently at him. Excited footsteps pitter-patter loudly against the ground as he speeds up to him.

“Tadashi!”

“Ainosuke-sama!”

Ainosuke leaps into Tadashi’s embrace. He hugs the older boy and breathes in the sweet smell that he loves. Playfully, little Ainosuke buries his nose against Tadashi’s neck and giggles. Tadashi returns the embrace and pats his head lovingly. The touch is so gentle that it makes Ainosuke feel warm and fuzzy in his chest. He raises his eyes to gaze at Tadashi and gives him a big smile. Mirthfully, Tadashi pinches his cheeks and stretches them. He laughs at the sight of Ainosuke’s goofy face.

“Ainosuke-sama…. You’re so adorable.” Ainosuke blushes. His chest tightens at the words he rarely hears.

“I love you.” Tadashi kisses him on the cheek and laughs. He runs his fingers through Ainosuke’s soft hair and takes him to watch the flowers. The roses aren’t in full bloom yet.

Roses were something Tadashi loved very much. Ainosuke can see it every time he visits and helps his father with them. He told him once that in their house there weren’t any rose bushes so he liked the fact that Ainosuke had them. The roses that he takes care at their house weren't as majestic as that of Ainosuke’s rose garden. Like usual Tadashi tells Ainosuke about how to take care of the roses, as if some of this information he hasn’t told him before. After he talks, Tadashi listlessly plays with a bush and throws him a furtive glance.

“I love them.” Skyline teeth peak at soft childish lips, Tadashi flashes a soft smile. He said those words with such serenity that it made Ainosuke's heart throb. “It’s because Ainosuke-sama’s smell brings the rose color to mind. I love you. That’s why I love roses too.” Tadashi blushes at that. He looks away shyly. His bashful gesture makes Ainosuke catch a lump in his throat. Whenever Tadashi tells him he loves him he feels fuzzy inside.

He is happy. He feels loved.

Tadashi’s love isn’t painful. It is not like the love he gets from his Aunts and his Father. Theirs is a complicated love. Even to a child, it is clear that it is different from Tadashi’s form of loving. When Tadashi tells him he loves him, there is only softness and warmth.

With this love, he didn’t cry or suppress his feelings or feel guilty about something he wasn’t sure why he was guilty. This is the kind of love he prefers.

Ainosuke holds Tadashi’s hand tightly. He tells him he loves him too with a fervor that is odd for a mere 7 year old child. He says it like he will say it forever. Tadashi clasps their hands together. Ainosuke likes this reciprocation. He wants to bask in Tadashi’s attention forever.

He didn’t want him to ever leave.

“Will you stay for the night?” The question comes out desperate.

“Yes.”

“Then can I sleep with you?”

“Yes of course! You always like sleeping with me.” Tadashi giggles. Ainosuke feels called out. It is true, whenever Tadashi spends the night at the mansion, Ainosuke sneaks out of his room and insists on sleeping with Tadashi. This is the first time he asks for permission.

Sleeping with Tadashi is something that Ainosuke looks forward to. Gentle hands would always do their magic whenever it's hard for him to sleep. He rubs his back and embraces him. The sound of Tadashi's breaths is a lullaby he often craves.

Always gentle and considerate, Tadashi reads stories to him, his most favorite of which is the little prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. With this arrangement, it almost feels like he gained a brother; a family member he can rely on. He always thought that this would never change.

But nothing remains the same.

Before he realized it, his brotherly love towards Tadashi changed into something complicated. The change wasn't abrupt nor did the realization come as a surprise. The transition was slow. From wanting to see Tadashi, he began to want to spend more time with him; he wanted to be closer. And then it just hit him like a truck. He realized he is aware of Tadashi as a man. When he sees him, he feels butterflies in his stomach. It’s no longer just his scent that soothes him, it's everything about him: his jade eyes, the beauty mark on his right cheek.

When they got older he got too conscious of being touchy-feely with Tadashi, as if just a slight touch from the older boy will take away his capacity to breathe. Sometimes he wonders if he'll always feel that way. When he thinks of this, he always feels some kind of pain in his chest. Tadashi doesn't visit often. Not being able to see him all the time was painful.

Missing someone was painful.

And if the confusing desire is the cause of it, he wonders if he should get rid of it.

Ainosuke can’t do anything about this. What he can do is wait as long as he can and endure. Life is hard at the Shindo Mansion but at least he has Tadashi. The scent will always tell him if Tadashi is coming. As he gazes at the blue and violet bruises on his arms, he frowns. Hiding them from Tadashi is getting harder and harder.

He smells the sweet roses and expectedly Tadashi peeks at the wall where he is hiding.

"Ainosuke-sama?"

Ainosuke hides his arms behind his back as he walks towards him. Worried that Tadashi will see his bruises, he regrets changing clothes. Unable to do anything, he smiles at the older man and keeps a safe distance between them. Tadashi muses as he guides him to the rose garden. He listens to the soothing sound of the other’s voice. Tadashi’s hand that is dangling in front of him makes him want to hold it. The desire to be touched by Tadashi’s thick fingers is strong. Accompanied by Tadashi’s sweet scent, Ainosuke feels drunk on a sensation he can’t understand. There was something off about it. It is the same scent he likes, but now, it seems like it affects him more than before.

Tadashi turns and catches a glimpse of bruises on Ainosuke’s forearms. Ainosuke tries to hide it again but Tadashi grabs his arm to reveal some old and new bruises. There were also new lacerations. He looks at Ainosuke as if he was the one who got the bruises and scratches. Ainosuke is bothered by the look. He only wants to see Tadashi smile.

“I’m used to it by now.” He blurts out and regrets it instantly. Tadashi kisses the old bruises and guides him to where his Father keeps a first aid kit. With a serious look on his face, Tadashi dabs the new lacerations with alcohol.

“Ainosuke-sama, you shouldn’t get used to this.” Ainosuke blushes. Indeed it is only Tadashi that cares for him. He’ll be fine as long as Tadashi is there with him. Ainosuke runs his fingers through Tadashi's raven hair using his free hand and hums a love song he wrote for him once.

“Tadashi… your gender exam is coming soon right?”

“Yes. It’s tomorrow.”

“Are you nervous?”

“I’m not.”

“I hope that I can still continue to meet you.”

Ainosuke frowns at the thought of separation. He didn't want to separate from Tadashi. Ever since he realized his feelings toward Tadashi was not brotherly love, he started hoping that their relationship could somehow become something more. Feeling sad, Ainosuke stares at Tadashi’s downcast eyes. The lovely way Tadashi’s eyes fluttered makes him want to lean in and kiss his eyelids. He wants to confess to him the things he has been keeping in his heart.

“Tadashi…” Ainosuke trails off as he rubs the soft flesh on Tadashi's right ear. He trails a finger on the juncture between Tadashi's ear and neck. Under his touch, Tadashi shivers. A lovely red suffuses his cheeks.

“Mmm?”

“Are you going to spend the night here?”

“You like it when I spend the night here don’t you? You haven’t changed. Your build may have gotten bigger but you’re still the same Ainosuke-sama.”

They stared at each other for a while. The short silence is interrupted by Tadashi's cough. Worried, Ainosuke touches his forehead to check his temperature.

“Are you okay? You feel feverish.”

“I'm fine. Maybe I’m just tired."

“Did you go to the doctor already?”

“Not yet… ”

"Then you should sleep early."

Tadashi does just that.

Ainosuke arrives in Tadashi's bedroom to find Tadashi fast asleep. He notices that his top isn't buttoned up to the last button like usual. It revealed his collarbones, pale neck, and a little of his chest. Tadashi must feel hot because he is also sweating. Ainosuke quietly makes his way to the bed to check Tadashi’s temperature. The older man is burning. His breathing is also shallow. It makes Ainosuke feel bad watching him suffer like that. Tadashi’s sweet smell permeates the room and it makes it difficult for Ainosuke to breathe normally. There is something odd about it. It’s thicker and it is making him feel hot. The hotness is nothing like the hotness he feels when he's embarrassed. It's the hotness that comes with wanting someone. His classmates often talk about this feeling in class, when they describe the feeling they get when they read racy magazines. Heart beating violently in his chest, the sight of Tadashi’s bare neck is making him drool. His gums throb as his fangs threatened to grow.

What is this?

Ainosuke’s head throbs. Tadashi rolls his head to the other side, revealing his pale neck. The sight is alluring enough for Ainosuke to feel the primal urge to bite it. Unable to fight the urge, he kisses Tadashi's neck and prepares to bite. Tadashi moves and Ainosuke bites a part of his nape accidentally. As he sinks his teeth on the skin, Ainosuke feels the rush of dopamine in his veins. He moans as he licks the part he bit earlier. Tadashi flinches but doesn't wake up. Ainosuke feels weak and exhausted as his head throbs violently. Tadashi’s taste lingers in his mouth and it's driving him mad.

He wants to do something more than just kiss his neck.

Strings of saliva cling to his mouth. Ainosuke shivers at the sight of a sweaty and feverish Tadashi on the bed. The heavy scent of roses still hangs in the air. It didn’t make the feeling of excitement he felt earlier subside. His eyes glow in the dark because of desire. Slowly, guilt starts to cloud his heart. He covers his mouth and only does he realize what he did. He should’ve fought the urge to bite him. Kissing his neck like that without his consent was unforgivable. Looking at his lower half, it is clear to him what just happened. To make it calm down, he thinks about the most boring stuff in the world, like the lesson he just learned in class. When it doesn't work he thinks about his father and how he would often reprimand him about the smallest things.

It worked.

Relieved, Ainosuke tucks himself beside Tadashi. He stares at Tadashi’s face and notices that he didn’t look like he was in pain anymore. Gently, he touches his forehead. It wasn’t as hot as earlier. He moves closer to hug him. The sound of Tadashi’s breathing and the sweet scent made him fall asleep.

Unfortunately, that was the last time they saw each other.

Ainosuke has been counting the days Tadashi hasn’t come to the mansion.

Since the day Tadashi felt sick, he noticed that Kikuchi the gardener wouldn't meet his eyes anymore. He debates with himself whether to confront Tadashi’s father about Tadashi, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. While he is close with Tadashi, his interactions with Kikuchi the gardener were far and in between. He only gets to talk to him when he is with Tadashi. He stops at the garden and stares. He's been doing this for quite a few weeks already. Impatient with himself, he finally manages to summon the courage to come up to Tadashi’s father.

“Kikuchi-san I haven’t seen Tadashi. When is he coming to visit?”

“Uhhh…” Tadashi’s father is avoiding Ainosuke’s eyes.

"Young master... The truth is... Tadashi won’t be coming here anymore.”

“What?”

“Tadashi... He’s busy with school.”

Ainosuke is speechless, he couldn’t believe it. All of a sudden he feels like his world collapsed under his feet. He tries to come up with possible reasons why Tadashi should come but it was no use. The more he presses the older man about the real reason why Tadashi isn’t visiting, the more awkward he feels. Realizing that no matter what he does, he will never get the answer he wants, he left. Yet, he still clings to the thought that surely Tadashi will come. It comforts him. He always does, so why is it different now? Waiting for days, there is still no sign of him, however, this was not enough of a reason for him to give up. Every time he is “loved” by his Aunts and Father, he thinks of him; the way he smiles and the way he plays with his hair and he feels a little better. He feels better at the thought of him visiting the mansion again.

The hope that Tadashi will visit again is the only reason he wakes up every day. But it only takes him so far because, unfortunately, there is a limit to hoping.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he decides to meet Tadashi even though he doesn’t know how. He has no idea where Tadashi lives or what school he goes to. Conveniently, a memory flashes inside his mind. Once, he begged Tadashi to give him a picture of him at his highshool. Desperate, he takes the box where he keeps mementos. Earlier, he was close to giving up but now his hope was lit anew when he saw the name of the school in the photos. Ainosuke doesn't have many opportunities to go to places so he researches as he prepares to go to Tadashi’s school. Once he is done preparing, he skips his afternoon classes and finally reaches Tadashi’s school after getting a bit lost. Anxiously, he looks at his watch. Tadashi said to him once that he goes home at 6 pm after his club activities. He is relieved. It was still 5:30 pm so he still had time.

Standing by the school gate he is getting unwanted attention. The girls who passed by whisper how there’s a tall, good-looking boy standing at their school gate. They gossiped that he must be waiting for his girlfriend.

Hearing their chatter, Ainousuke pulls down his hoodie to hide his face better. It would be bad if people found out who he was. As the son of the Shindo family, he has to protect his family’s reputation. His family is a rich alpha family. They are one of the oldest Alpha lineages in the country so it would be a big deal if he was found out. Furthermore, his Father, Aiichiro is a politician. Just one wrong move can stain his father’s reputation that’s why it was ingrained in him to be cautious about how he looks. It’s suffocating. Fortunately, his face isn’t all over the news yet so he is sure no one would know or even suspect that someone like him would be standing outside a school gate waiting for someone. But even if his face is slightly covered, people still somehow know that he has a good face.

He waits.

The clock ticks.

Minutes pass by.

He’s been watching every student that passes by the gate but there is no sign of Tadashi. Did he miss him? It is getting dark. As the sun slowly disappears from the sky, his hope also fades.

An uneasiness creeps in his chest. What if he’ll never see Tadashi again? Certainly, if he goes back home, he might never get another opportunity. Panicking, he searches for someone he can ask, a security guard. If he doesn’t ask now, everything will be a waste. After a while, he smells something sweet. It confuses him at first but when his mind clears he knows it is Tadashi’s scent. How could he ever mistake it?

He didn’t miss him.

This thought alone makes happiness bubble in his chest. He eagerly waits at the gate. As the scent got stronger, the faster his heart hammered in his chest. Then, he finally sees him pass by. Even just the sight of his raven hair makes Ainosuke’s heart flutter. It’s been a long time since they last saw each other so he missed him a lot. Forcefully, Ainosuke grabs the other by the arm.

“Tadashi!”

Tadashi winced. He doesn’t look surprised at being grabbed but it is clear on the look on his face that he was expecting Ainosuke to be there. Rather than see happiness on Tadashi’s face, Ainosuke only saw apathy. Ainosuke’s heart feels like it is crushed. Tadashi was supposed to be happy to see him. Yet, the Tadashi that was standing before him only gave him a cold look. Unable to process his feelings he is trying to search for words.

“I heard from your father that you’re busy with school.”

Tadashi won’t meet his eyes. It is making his throat dry.

“Hey, Tadashi… say something.”

Ainosuke feels cold all over. Why is Tadashi acting like a stranger?

“Your hand… it hurts,” Tadashi says coldly. Only then did Ainosuke realize he was squeezing too much.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean…"

“Please don’t meet me anymore.”

Tadashi put his hand on Ainosuke’s hand that was still holding his arm. The touch was soft and gentle just like the times he used to touch him. Tadashi pulls his arm away and their hands separate.

Ainosuke couldn't believe what he heard. Remembering the words made something ring in his ears. His heart feels like it is being crushed by a fist. He stands frozen in shock at those words. Shaken, all he could do is look down at his feet to hold back his tears from flowing. He doesn’t want to look at Tadashi’s face; afraid of what he’ll see; afraid that the only thing he’ll remember about this boy who taught him gentle love and kindness was a heartless face.

Tadashi walks away. Ainosuke tries to grab him again to ask him to at least explain things more clearly to him.

“Hey..”

Tadashi dodged.

“Please don’t bother me anymore.” He can hear pain in Tadashi’s voice. But if he is in pain why is he pushing him away? Ainosuke didn’t know what to think. But the next words Tadashi says to him feel like a punch in the gut.

“Your friendship is an inconvenience to me.”

The memories they had together flash inside his mind. Now, he wonders whether they happened or was his mind just playing tricks on him? He just stood there in disbelief as Tadashi walked away.

#fics #sk8 the infinity #tadashi kikuchi #忠愛 #ainosuke shindo #tadaai

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Do Ness and Gray Ever Get Back Together Or Are They Done For Good?

tw: discussions of drinking and depresssion

Grayson spent the entirety of Christmas break without speaking to Ness. He hardly spoke at all, truthfully: only the occasional chuckle when Ethan brought up a story from the good old days. Most of his clothes stayed folded in his suitcase: he rotated between a few pairs of sweatpants and some thermal long sleeves when his mother drove him to physical therapy. He spent every night staring at the ceiling, hearing Ethan’s low snore next to him, and wondering what Ness was doing at that exact moment. When he watched Ethan drive away at the end of winter break, leaving Grayson behind to take the semester off, Grayson felt like was giving up more than just his academic responsibilities that semester.

During the holidays, Ness was more than happy to have the distraction of her four brothers around her. With someone always mad at someone else, or bleeding onto the coffee table, she had enough chaos in the world around her to distract from the chaos in her life. Her only thought of Grayson happened when her Nan sat down beside her to ask about that boy, she had been seeing last year: Ness shook her head softly, said they were together anymore, and changed the subject.

The next semester went by in a whirlwind for both. Ness rushed from class to class, trying her hardest to pull up her GPA from the nosedive it took when she was taking care of Grayson after he came home from the hospital. She bolstered enough confidence to apply to be a writer for the school’s newspaper. Her happiest moment that semester came from reading the email that she had been hired as a contributing editor. For a moment, she paused and imaged what Grayson would have said if he was there. Afterall, Grayson had been the largest encouraging force for her to apply when they were together. She shook the thought out of her head and immediately called up Samantha, who suggested they celebrate Nessa’s victory of a box of white claws and bottle of cheap vodka from the gas station.

Nessa’s life saw many changes that semester: the absence of Grayson, her appointment to the newspaper, and a newfound predilection for shitfaced, promiscuous, wild partying. Samantha dragged Ness from frat house to frat house on Friday and Saturday nights, and even on Thursday afternoons. When Ness would gravitate toward the corner of the party, fingering her bottle in her hands, sometimes she would wonder about Grayson, how he was doing, if his condition was getting better: she would wash away the thoughts by pressing the bottle to her lips and returning to whatever antics Samantha and her friends were getting up to. It was a dangerous cycle: high risk and high reward but the constant mental stimulation excused Ness from her quieter, introspective thoughts.

Grayson lived a quieter life: splitting his time between at home therapy exercises and helping his mother prepare the garden for springtime. He drove Ethan’s old Tacoma truck to the local greenhouse to pick up bulbs and fertilizer, planting a bed for the start of springtime. By the time the crocuses had started to poke out of the ground, Grayson’s arm was in much better shape. Thanks to the selfless work of his healthcare team, and his commitment to his own wellbeing, he was more than ready to return to school in the fall.

Had he been in a proper frame of mind, he would have called Ness. Not with the intentions of explicitly getting back together with her, but to see her, talk to her, tell her that he missed her. However, his body had healed much faster than his mind. His mind still craved his bed almost 24 hours a day, despite never allowing him the sweet respite of sleep. He chewed at his lip all day, until he tasted metallic blood on the tip of his tongue. He spoke to no one except Ethan: even in the locker room. The once boisterous and bubbly Grayson became a shell of a person: quiet and limp in the corner of a room, only the physical memory of the lion’s soul he used to host.

Ethan tried to coax his brother to go out. Ethan even went as far as the hook his arms around Grayson’s ankles and try to pull him from his bed, dragging him from across their apartment floor, but Grayson was always the heavier twin. Grayson anchored himself to the edge of the couch and only grunted when Ethan sighed and mumbled a few words of goodbyes. Grayson heard the front door closed but didn’t have enough energy to pick himself up from the floor and walk back to bed.

Being a senior, Ethan was well recognized at most campus parties. He walked through the door and instantly start giving people side hugs and asking how they have been. He smelled the familiar odor of stale, cheap beer emanating from people’s plastic cups. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he stood in the kitchen door to see Ness standing with Derek. She was in a tight black crop top and held out a red solo cup in front of her. Derek looked down at her with wobbly eyes that suggested his stupidity was heightened by warm feeling of alcohol.

Ethan cleared his throat and tried to divert his eyes but couldn’t help himself when Ness strung her arms around Derek’s bicep and asked him to go dance with her. Ethan pretended to be distracted by the six bowls of chips in front of him, but in reality, he couldn’t stop watching the scene play out in front of him. Derek was too drunk to take two steps to the left. He couldn’t barely walk with Ness hanging off of his arm, so much so that he held onto the kitchen counter for stability.

“Ness,” Ethan said emphatically.

She spun around with a surprised look on her face, shocked to hear someone use that tone at a party. For a second, her heart dropped into her stomach. She recognized the masculine angle of the jawline and the kind hazel eyes and in her tipsy statement, her emotions betrayed her for a second. But the lighting fixture of the kitchen befriended her to remind her that she was looking at Ethan, and not the man she thought about before she went to sleep at night.

“E?” Ness asked, suddenly forgetting Derek, who was now wobbling his head over the sink as if he was going to puke.

Ethan took a step toward her as Ness did the same, “What’s going on?”

Ness knew Ethan meant more than what she was doing in the frat house kitchen, but she played coy, “I’m here with Sam and some of her sisters from APhi. I think they’re in the basement if you wanna-“

“Ness,” Ethan said, nearly sounding like he was scolding her, “What’s going on with you?” Ethan gestured to the red solo cup in her hands, something she wouldn’t have been caught dead with last year.

Ness shrugged in response, “I’ve been okay.” She thought about asking Ethan how his brother was doing: but decided against it, choosing that appearing strong was better than tipping off Ethan that she still cared.

Ethan looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up at Ness, “He’s not doing the best, Ness.”

She wore a blank stare. The only semblance of a reaction she gave Ethan was that she slightly sucked in her top lip before he continued talking.

“His arm is better, took a couple months,” Ethan sighed, “I just can’t get him out of the house anymore Ness.”

“He’ll come around eventually,” Ness tucked her mouth against her cup to take a sip while watching the expression fold on Ethan’s face.

He shrugged again, “I just thought maybe-,” he sighed, “Nevermind.” Ethan turned his head to look out of the kitchen, at the rest of the party that was still booming in the house. He turned to Ness, “Find me if you need a ride home, alright?”

Ness nodded while Ethan walked away. She started the amber liquid in her cup for a minute before feeling her spine curl at the sound of Derek vomiting into the sink.

Ethan came home without a pretty girl by his side: something about the action of dragging Grayson across their apartment and then running into Ness threw him off his usual flirtatious game. His keys clinked as they hit the kitchen counter, “You’re still here?”

Grayson groaned from the floor.

Ethan reached down to give his brother a hand, pulling him off the floor.

“You’re home early,” Grayson yawned, his voice was raspy with sleep: a dead giveaway that he had fallen asleep on the cold, hardwood floor while Ethan went to the party.

“Not my night,” Ethan mumbled and passed a hand through his hair.

“What happened?” Grayson’s voice shook as it spoke, wavering between frequencies.

Ethan looked at the bathroom door and contemplated escaping the conversation before decided to state clearly, “I ran into Ness. She was there with Samantha- and some of their friends.”

Grayson’s mouth went dry. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, avoiding looking at Ethan’s eyes.

“I told her how you were doing,” Ethan tried to keep his tone casual, “told her maybe- I dunno,” he shrugged, “she could say hi sometime-get you out of the house-“

“the fuck you do that for?” Grayson didn’t wait for Ethan to finish his thought.

Ethan sighed, “You’re just- Gray” Ethan perched himself on the arm of their couch, “All you do is sleep.” Ethan looked at his brother with eyes of concern, “Maybe it’s time to start-“ Ethan sighed again, “having some fun.”

“And my ex-girlfriend is fun?” Grayson’s eyes squinted as his tone sounded acquisitional.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ethan tried to defend.

“That my ex-girlfriend, after telling her I’m a pathetic mess, is fun?”

“You know what,” Ethan conceded, “Just forget it. I tried doing the right thing for you but clearly- clearly,” he passed a hand through his hair, “Clearly I don’t know what to do.”

Ethan turned away from the conversation before Grayson could grow angrier. Grayson heard the hiss of the shower turn on and locked his bedroom door behind him as he laid awake in his bed.

The consequences of Ethan’s meddling came to fruition nearly a full week later. Ness donned her old knit beanie and thermos to sit on the stands at their football game. Unlike last year, she did not scream and cheer when they scored: she took little sips of hot liquid and silently watched the crowd as they game went on.

She was leaning against Grayson’s car when he walked out from the locker room: in a pair of joggers, his hair a mess, and his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.

He stopped in front of her. They looked at each other for a minute. The sound of cars and buses reversing out of the parking lot and merging onto the road filled the air around them.

“Good job tonight,” Ness whispered into the air.

“Thanks,” Grayson’s tone was low and curt.

“I uh- how is your shoulder?”

“Better.”

“Good.”

Grayson looked from side to side, not seeing anywhere he could run to to avoid the conversation. “You know you don’t have to talk to me Vanessa,” he said lowly, shifting his weight on his heels, “I get it- you moved on with your life. I’m happy for you.”

“I’m not-“ she started but didn’t finish. She sighed and shrugged, “I wanted to see you again.”

“Well here I am,” Grayson said flatly.

“You are,” Ness mumbled. She stared at a spot far away on the ground, “Maybe we could- do coffee? Sometime?”

Grayson shrugged, “Don’t really drink it anymore.”

Ness nodded softly, “Okay well,” she sucked her lips in, “I just thought I would try.”

Grayson responded by folding his lips into a tight line and opening his trunk to throw his duffel bag inside, signaling that he was done with their conversation. Ness mumbled words of goodbye and stepped away from him. He watched her walk away: fondling remembering what the fluff of the pompom on her hat felt like when he used to kiss the top of her head after a long game.

That night, both of them laid in their respective beds and thought about the other: each of them convinced that they were done forever. They woke up the next morning: husks of people. Ness tried to sleep in, she danced her feet around in her sheets but it made her miss the familiar warmth of Grayson’s arms on a Saturday morning. She jumped out of bed and found a pair of sneakers to go on a jog with: she told herself it was a coincidence when she jogged right past Grayson’s apartment.

Grayson continued his depressive patterns of living in bed and only showering every two weeks.

Ethan had gone to a party: telling Grayson not to wait up as he slid through the door. Grayson didn’t even feign a response. He scratched his balls and sniffed as he changed the channel on the television. Grayson thought that Ethan had forgotten something when there was a knock at the door twenty minutes later.

Ness stood in front of him.

Her face was red and puffy, but her eyes were smeared with distinct coats of concealer. Her hair fell in front of her face in messy strands. She looked up at him with knitted brows.

“You okay?” He asked brutishly.

Ness signed and gritted her teeth, “I-I uh-“ she closed her eyes, “I need you-could you- I didn’t know who else to go to- Grayson.”

Grayson looked around her shoulder to see if anyone else was lingering in the stairwell. He shoved his body to one side of the door way and nodded his head in a motion that asked Ness to step into his apartment.

“Thanks,” she gulped. “I-uh.” She sighed and looked around, being in his kitchen flooded her with memories. She remembered the last time she walked through his door. “Can you drive me to the drug store?” Her words came out in a flash.

Grayson took a moment, trying to use all of his brain to make sure he heard her correctly before hesitantly saying, “Yeah…sure.”

“Thanks,” Ness nodded quickly.

Grayson looked from one side of the room to the other, “Should I ask-“

“I missed my period,” her words merged together, “By a week.”

Grayson nodded, “Okay.” He said lowly.

Ness did not move from where she stood but her eye grew into large orbs as he moved passed her. For a minute, she wondered if he was abandoning her. But instead, he came out of his bedroom with a fleece thrown over his t-shirt and his car keys in one hand.

Both of them stayed silent in the car ride. They were brought together in a wordless commitment to privacy. Neither of them even bothered to reach to the radio and put on something to fill the void: they sat there. When Grayson parked, Ness didn’t ask him to go with her, but he did anyway. Even slid a twenty-dollar bill on the counter when they stepped to the register.

Grayson didn’t realize he should have driven Nessa back to her dorm until he pulled up to his own apartment building. Ness didn’t question it: she bolted from the parking lot to Grayson’s front door and tapped her foot against the floor as he worked his eye into the lock and opened the door for her.

Grayson waited on the couch while she locked herself in the bathroom. He didn’t even bother taking his shoes off. He looked up when she opened the bathroom door, with a thin smile.

Grayson’s mouth tightened into a small knot, “Everything uh..all set?”

Ness sighed and nodded softly, “Yeah uh..” she weighed her head from side to side. Suddenly, the embarrassment of the situation flooded over her entire body like a tsunami, “Crisis averted.”

“I’m sorry I-“ “I didn’t mean to-“

They spoke over each other.

“You go-“ “No you go-“

Grayson folded his hands in his lap while Ness chewed on her bottom lip.

He spoke into the silence, “I’m happy for you- that you know, everything worked out.”

Ness nodded, “Thanks, and thanks for—thanks for doing that, you didn’t have to.” Grayson tried to response graciously but she kept going, “I didn’t know who else to- I didn’t have anyone else I could-.” Nessa’s shoulders drooped, “It’s funny, I’m always around people now- but I’m never really with them.”

Grayson nodded, not knowing what to do with that information, “Glad I could help.”

They stood in silence for another moment.

Grayson cleared his throat before continuing, “And sorry, for uh- sorry for breaking up with you I just- I thought it was best because of -..well- I could have gone about the whole thing better.”

Ness found a shy smile, “Thanks Gray.”

They nodded at each other.

Ness groaned and grabbed fists of her hair, “What are we doing?”

“Talking?” Grayson stuttered.

“No, I mean.” Ness turned herself around once before looking at him with a tired expression, “We were so good, what happened to us?”

Grayson shrugged, “I don’t know. One minute we were perfect and the next-“

“Lights out,” Ness finished.

Grayson nodded. He took in a sharp breath through his nose, “Sorry I- sorry I turned you down- last month. About coffee.” He shrugged, “I guess- I just thought you were asking because you felt bad for me. That was- that wasn’t the best move.”

Ness nodded softly, “It’s okay, I get it.”

Grayson looked up at her, “Do you still want to go?”

Ness looked up at him. She moved her mouth from side to side, pensively. She swallowed, feeling a lump dissolve in the bottom of her throat. “Yeah,” she said lightly, “I mean- if you want to.”

Grayson nodded in response, his eyes darting around the room.

“What happens-“ Ness bit the corner of her lip, “What happens if it doesn’t work? If we’re just…too different now?”

Grayson shrugged, “Then I guess you get a free cup of coffee and I’m five dollars poorer.”

Ness chuckled, “Fair.”

“And if it works,” Grayson leaned toward her, “Then I get the best thing that ever happened to me back.”

Ness started to blush and rolled her eyes, “You were always too smooth for your own good,”

Grayson shook his head with a soft smile, “I mean it Ness- you-“ he shrugged, “I know I used to say it all the time but I really don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

She smiled shyly at him, feeling the tension in the moment subside.

“You’re-you’re an angel Ness. An absolute angel,” he reached out to hold her hand, “my sweet girl.”

His fingers sparked with they reached out for her palm, telling Ness that they would be seeing each other for much more than just coffee.

EPILOGUE

Two elementary school age boys barged through the front door of the family.

“MOM!” “Pass!” “Throw!” “Back!” “Johnny—” “Alex—” They spoke over each other.

Ness chuckled and lowered the heat on a pot that was simmering on the stove. From their highchairs, two twin toddlers babbled and spitted at each other. Grayson busted through the doorway, “You shoulda seen them Ness! Two regular all-stars.” Ness smiled and hugged both boys, placing careful kisses on the tops of their heads while looking for bruises on their visible skin.

“How were the twins?” Grayson started wiggling a finger at little Bradley who was transfixed by the jiggly motions of his father’s hand. Next to him, Connor called out, wanting an equal amount of attention from his daddy.

“Good,” Ness commented, “Alex! Johnny! Go wash your hands, dinner’s almost ready.”

Ness exhaled softly and a smile lit up her face when Grayson wrapped his arms around her. He placed a sweet kiss on her lips. He brushed a hand over her bulging pregnant belly, “You think it’s another boy?”

“I hope not,” Ness laughed.

Grayson smirked and kissed her again, “At this rate, I think we could make a whole team.”

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading, especially if you were someone who started reading from the beginning. This story took over my blog like a whirlwind and it’s been a lot of fun. I’m still more than happy to do pre-fic or post-fic concepts if you want to send them in. Also, I never posted it but I did work out a story for Ethan in this AU: who he ends up with and what happens to him so let me know if you’re interested in that arc. As always, I love getting feedback from you guys. I hope this week brings you all of the positively and light you need)

#football!grayson #grayson and nessa #fluff #angst #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #Teaser #concept #blurb #fanfic #mywriting #college!grayson

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chocoluckchipz · 4 years

Text

The Other You - 15

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Fresh from a shower, Marinette plopped on her bed face down and grunted, hiding her flaming face in a pillow.

What was wrong with her?

Why was she such an idiot and a weakling? Couldn’t she have said no to Adrien and his stupid lunch? Why on Earth did she think this was a good idea? Especially with her apparent inability to stay anywhere close to that man for more than five minutes at a time and not have her stupid crush rear its ugly head at the slightest sign of attention from his side.

Not fully her fault though because why the hell did Adrien have to be all kinds of perfect and so over the top extra? It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t natural. Men like him didn’t exist in the real world. It was some kind of witchcraft because how else could he have managed to make her feel so much at ease that by the end of that cursed lunch Marinette didn’t even notice as she let all remnants of her past hurt drift away? Witchcraft! Humanly impossible!

And Felix! That genius weirdo! She was going to kill him… after Fashion Week… for the crime of looking so incredibly much like Adrien. If he looked like anybody but his French cousin, Marinette would’ve never gotten used to seeing that face around herself and slowly lowered her guard around either of the men sharing the uncanny similarity. She would’ve stayed cautious around Adrien and would’ve never allowed him an opportunity to sneak back into her heart. She pursed her lips, grunting into her comforter. Was it too farfetched to assume that Adrien hired Felix specifically for that reason? Because his similar looks and flirty behaviour would slowly charm her into lowering her defences around Adrien? Preposterous but possible!

Her cell phone vibrated. Marinette grabbed it, pushing the thought away. Adrien didn’t deserve any more of her time for what he’d done to her today.

Alya: So, how did it go?

Ugh. Not Alya too. They hardly spoke about Adrien in recent weeks. Alya was avoiding the subject, probably thinking Marinette still hated him. Marinette didn’t want to bring him up because Adrien confused her. All of her assumptions, all of the beliefs she held about him were rapidly crumbling down and until Marinette got a hold of herself and her emotions, she preferred to avoid talking about him as well. The only reason Alya even knew about their lunch was because Marinette let information about the unexpected invitation slip in one of their calls. Like a true reporter, Alya couldn’t let her off the hook without learning the name of the person who invited her.

Marinette: How did what go? My day? Long and hard. Home now. About to start cooking.

Alya: Your date with Adrien, M. How did your unexpected date with your new boss/former enemy go?

Marinette scoffed. It wasn’t a date! She knew that for certain because Adrien made sure to correct their waiter when he’d voiced the same assumption about the pair’s relationship status. She couldn’t blame the waiter for assuming, though, because Adrien Freaking Agreste didn’t just pop into her office with his lunch box as she had assumed he would when he asked her that morning if she was free to talk about some business over lunch. Oh, no! He freaking dressed up and took her to an upscale cafe where he had reserved a freaking VIP lounge for them—per his words—‘to talk about work in privacy’, all while looking stupidly handsome and very smug about it. Of course, the waiter would assume it was a date. Which it wasn’t!

As for how it went?

Horribly wrong!

Disastrously so!

Cautious and wary at first, both of them slowly relaxed as the lunch went on, and soon enough not only they were laughing and joking around, but Marinette dared to say there were even a few moments where he flirted with her. Also, she was pretty sure Adrien had chosen his clothes strategically to show off that toned and lean body of his.

Marinette yelled into her pillow, banging her feet against her bed. Why couldn’t he have become bald or something? Or gain a few dozen extra pounds? Lose some teeth? Smell like a dump truck? Become a bully? Why did Adrien have to be so perfect? And why did he have to be such a gentleman and attentive and let everything she’d once loved about him shine through as he made her feel like the most beautiful and amazing woman in the room, all while they talked business and business alone? How did he manage that? How dare he still linger around her thoughts even now? And why did sharing a meal with him somehow feel so familiar and nice and warm and comforting and just wonderful despite all of her reservations and initial awkwardness?

It had to be some kind of magic. A spell, perhaps. Or a potion. Some sort of witchcraft or sorcery for sure. Hadn’t she sensed that he was a danger back at Gabriel’s office during their first encounter after so long? She should’ve stayed away. But nooo! She just had to go and naively fall for his tricks. Something Marinette wouldn’t admit to anyone. Not to Alya. Not to Adrien. Certainly not to herself. She typed furiously.

Marinette: It wasn’t a date. It was a business lunch and it was nothing special. We talked about work, specifically my collection and Fashion Week.

Alya: But, girl, you couldn’t stand even his name being mentioned a month ago. Now you’re going on a non-date lunch with him. What happened?

Marinette: He’s my boss, Alya. I can’t refuse his lunch invitation if I want my collection out for Fashion Week.

Alya: Girl, it’s Adrien. You can’t seriously think he’d do something like that. Don’t tell me you went through with this ONLY because you were afraid to lose your job?

Marinette stared at the message in hesitation. Nibbling on her lip, she closed her eyes and flipped on her back with a sigh. She could’ve said there was only fear behind her motivation, but the truth was—there was none at all. Not after Adrien’s apology. Not after she’d learned his side of the story. Not after she’d had a chance to think it over, analyze her life, and see where working at Gabriel had really led her. Not after she’d admitted, if only to herself, that maybe Adrien was right after all.

He had always been nothing but a loyal friend to her before that incident. If not for her nursing a fresh heartbreak at the time and him daring to compromise one of her biggest dreams, Marinette would’ve surely given him the benefit of the doubt. But it was horrible timing. They both were vulnerable. He had made a mistake. She had reacted in the worst way possible.

Time had passed, though. They both had learned their lesson. He apologized and had done so sincerely. And maybe it was some kind of magic, or maybe Marinette just had a weakness for him, but as Adrien was inviting her to that business lunch she couldn’t find it in her to refuse despite her initial hesitation. Perhaps she was curious to learn more about this new, more mature Adrien. He had been slipping into her thoughts more frequently these days. Maybe she wanted to see if that friendship Adrien was so eagerly hinting at rekindling was even possible. Or maybe she just wanted to have lunch with someone other than Felix and his wacky character for once. However genius her assistant was, being around him all day only made Marinette crave, even if secretly, the softer, more genuine, and definitely more stable personality of his cousin. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fear that got Marinette to agree to Adrien’s invitation.

Marinette: Well, not just because of that. We did talk about the past and he apologized for his actions, and since we’re stuck working together for the next while and he’s been helping me out with my collection, I thought maybe I could try to be a little friendlier with him.

She could see the three dots appearing and disappearing as Alya typed for a while only for a short question to appear.

Alya: Then PURELY HYPOTHETICALLY—do you think it’s possible for you two to be friends again? Sometime in the future at least?

Marinette chuckled. Adrien had mentioned he was going to see Nino for lunch in a few days and that he hoped the second time around it would go better. She wasn’t surprised at all. In a way, Marinette had expected it to happen because cutting all contact with Adrien was just as hard for Nino as it was for her. Having found out the truth now, Marinette was certain that Nino was itching to rekindle his friendship with Adrien. Under any other circumstances, Marinette might have taken that as a betrayal, but not now. Not when she knew the truth as well, and certainly not after she had gone to lunch with Adrien herself and still blushed at the memory of him kissing her hand as he dropped her off at her studio afterwards.

Marinette: Is this about Nino and Adrien trying to salvage their friendship and me being mad at Nino about that?

She hit Send and glanced at the clock. Eight already. Time to get back to the kitchen and finish cooking before Chat Noir showed up. Speaking of the devil… Chat Noir was as much at fault here as everyone else… if not more! Because while there was an unspoken agreement to hold off with a romantic relationship until better times between them, couldn’t he be more insistent or reckless when it came to Ladybug? Couldn’t he take her in his arms and proclaim his eternal love for her? Couldn’t he tell her he didn’t know how to live without her? Shower her with presents and attention? She’d probably be pissed at him for doing so, but at least she wouldn’t be so attention-starved right now to react to Adrien the way she did. Because that was all it was—a natural yearning for someone to notice her, for someone to look at her like she was their world, for someone to gently kiss her hand and open a door for her like a true gentleman that was so rare these days. She just wanted someone to love her the way she was, knowing all her faults and quirks, and not care the slightest about it.

Was that too much to ask of him?

Grunting, Marinette stomped to the kitchen, ignoring her beeping cell phone until all the remaining ingredients for their meal were out and she’d checked the stewing beef. One more beep reminded her of Alya on the line just before she started cutting the vegetables.

Alya: Maybe?

Alya: Yes. OTL

Alya: I’m sorry, M, but neither Nino nor I knew how to tell you and we do realize that Adrien hurt you and maybe we’re being bad friends here, but you know Nino. He wouldn’t sleep if he thinks he didn’t treat someone fairly and in this case, we kind of did just that. He’s dead set on making it right with Adrien. They’re having one more lunch this Saturday and he’s planning to do whatever it takes for it to go better than the last one.

Alya: Marinette? Say something cause I’m freaking out over here.

Alya: Anything?

Alya: You’re pissed at me, aren’t you?

Alya: You know I love you more than anyone else, right? I’d do anything for you.

Alya: Even break up with Nino. Do you want me to? Because, girl, I’ll do that for you and he can marry Adrien for all I care.

Alya: Ugh! Don’t tell him I said that because he might actually dump me for Adrien. The guy grew up really nice.

Alya: I shouldn’t have said that…

Alya: UGH! The man is ugly! He’s hideous! Just look at his Apollo-like looks! So nineteenth century! Old fashioned! Outdated! Nino would NEVER dump me for him, right?

Alya: Nino looks way better btw. Just so you know!

Marinette laughed. Who said she was the overdramatic one in their duo? Alya could easily give her and Chat Noir a run for their money in that department.

Marinette: Sorry, got distracted by cooking.

Marinette: Also, I wouldn’t be so sure about Nino not dumping you for Adrien. They used to be attached at the hip and now he’s feeling all guilty and sad and wants to fix everything. What if Adrien demands marriage?

Alya: Don’t even joke about that. I already invested too much in that man and I’m not giving him up to some CEO of a fashion empire. He can go jump off a cliff. I’ll fight for my man until my last breath.

Marinette: And here I thought you were ready to dump him for me.

Alya: …

Alya: True.

Alya: OTL You’re making it HARD, girl.

Marinette: When did I make it easy for you?

Alya: T_T Why am I still in this relationship?

Marinette: Because you love me more than anyone in this world apart from Nino?

Alya: Can’t blame me for that. Have you seen the man?

Marinette: LOL No blame here. You two are cute.

Alya: :thumbs-up:

Alya: Seriously, though, what do you think about the whole Adrien/Nino thing?

Marinette: I’m fine with it. I don’t think I’ll be plunging in there myself anytime soon but I don’t see why Nino shouldn’t.

Alya: Are you sure?

Marinette: Yes, I’m sure. I’m a grown-ass woman, Alya. I can be civil.

Alya: Okay. If you say so, but if you ever feel uncomfortable, let me know. We’ll figure out something.

Marinette: Will do. Have to go now. My meat is going to burn if I don’t give it my undivided attention.

Alya: See U later, girl.

Quickly firing off her farewell, Marinette got to her cooking, stirring, cutting, seasoning, and tasting. Trying to push thoughts of Adrien out of her mind because, as nice as being noticed felt, she couldn’t get any closer to him. She wasn’t a fool or a teenager anymore. Marinette knew exactly what was going on, fully realized what she was feeling.

She didn’t like it.

She spent years despising even the name of Adrien Agreste, someone who, even if unintentionally, was the cause of the biggest hurt she’d ever experienced. She spent the same amount of time being in love with Chat Noir, her loyal partner and the most important person in her life. How could she allow her old crush on Adrien surface at all, least of all so quickly after he’d reappeared in her life? It wasn’t fair.

Not to her.

Not to Chat Noir.

Especially not to Chat Noir, who had waited years for her. Marinette couldn’t fall in love with her former enemy just when a romantic relationship with Chat Noir had finally become a possibility.

She had to do something.

“Knock, knock,” Chat Noir called from the living room. “Are there any princesses in this tower? A handsome knight has come to entertain them with his awesomeness in exchange for a slice of bread.”

“In the kitchen,” Marinette shouted.

“That smells delicious,” Chat appeared behind her, peeking above her shoulder at the pot. “What are we cooking, Princess?”

Marinette couldn’t hide a smile. Princess. His old nickname for her had resurfaced recently. She missed it more than she had realized. She loved it way more than she would ever admit. “Boeuf Bourguignon.”

Chat inhaled the aroma with the most reverent expression on his face. “You’re spoiling this cat rotten.”

“I’m only paying my rent, Chat. Nice meals for a nice apartment. ‘An equal exchange’. Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I see you finally watched one of my recommendations?”

“I didn’t have time for that yet, but you’ve been quoting it so much, it was impossible for me not to remember.”

“See? I’m a good influence on you.” He grinned. “Need help?”

“Bread, if you don’t mind.”

“When have I ever?” he replied, washing his hands. “I like helping you. You make it seem so easy. I might even pick up a thing or two and not send myself to a hospital next time I try to cook by myself.”

“Maybe I should teach you then.”

“Maybe you should.”

Marinette smiled, putting the finishing touches on their dishes. “Then maybe I will.”

“I’d be forever grateful,” he practically purred, finishing slicing the bread. “How was your day? Anything fun or interesting I should be aware of?”

Marinette stilled, but composed herself a moment later. Avoid mentioning Adrien at all costs. Talk about anything but him. “Felix had a short day. He ditched me before lunch and never came back.”

“Rude. He should be punished.”

“I can’t punish him. He’s doing more work than I do, and he’s my boss’ relative, and he’s the reason you're about to eat a dish that took me almost three hours to prepare, so don’t complain. You should be thanking him instead.”

Chat let out a puff, bringing a bowl filled with bread to the dining table. “What for? Being a weirdo? He’s there to help you with your work, not make you uncomfortable. So despite all of your objections, I still maintain that if he won’t scale back on his antics, you should kick his butt to the curb.”

“Actually, he’s been getting very good at respecting my boundaries lately,” Marinette confessed as she set their meals down. “And even when he doesn’t… How to explain? The way he does all of his weird things… he’s so sincere and polite about it that it’s kind of endearing in a way.”

Chat’s eyebrows knitted into a frown. “So, you like it now?”

“More like I don’t mind it so much now.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Alright. Then, I guess it’s fine?”

Marinette smiled. “Yes. It’s fine. Weird, but fine. Now, let’s eat. Boeuf Bourguignon is most delicious when it’s still steaming.”

Chat grinned, plopped on a chair and focused his gaze on the bowl in front of him. His eyes sparkled and he grabbed his fork excitedly. “Yes, ma’am! Itadakimasu!”

Marinette chuckled, sitting down as well. “Itadakimasu,” she echoed, starting on her meal. “How was your day?”

“I had lunch with an amazing person,” Chat said, his mouth full. “An old friend of mine, but we’d lost contact for a few years, so I thought lunch would be a good place to catch up. Was very nice to see she’s just as awesome as I remember her.”

She?

Marinette’s chest tightened. Her Chaton was having lunch with a girl whom he considered to be awesome and amazing while avoiding Ladybug at the same time? Yes, avoiding. There was no other explanation for what was going on in their superhero life at that moment.

Ever since Ladybug had returned to her duties, she hadn’t seen much of Chat Noir. The few times she managed to spot him, he acted skittish and distant and eager to escape as fast as he could. To her inquiry on his absences, he answered that he was making his patrols but headed home right after because of the late hours and early mornings he had. Ladybug believed him. She had no reason not to trust Chat. She thought that he was probably still mourning for his relative, and showing it only to Ladybug because only Ladybug knew about that aspect of his life.

Now, however, Marinette wasn’t so sure anymore. Her heart clenched, breathing quickening, as thoughts of Chat’s date attacked her very core. Was he avoiding his partner because he didn’t love her anymore? Or was he avoiding her because he felt guilty for being attracted to someone else, just as she found herself moping over being attracted to Adrien?

She composed herself and asked. “Is that so? Someone with potential?”

“Potential? Potential for what?” Chat blinked at her, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth.

“Potential for a romantic relationship,” Marinette explained. “Someone you would be interested in dating?”

“Dating?” Chat frowned, letting a moment slowly drift by before he shook his head. “No. She’s just a friend. You know I love Ladybug, Marinette. Why would you ask such a question?”

She let a breath out, closing her eyes for a moment. Unnecessary panic. She hadn’t lost him yet. Though, she might need to do something about it sooner rather than later because Chat Noir had been waiting for her for an absurdly long time already. And now he suddenly started to talk about an amazing, awesome person in his life. Who could guarantee that he’d be willing to wait for her much longer instead of falling in love with whoever-she-was instead?

Marinette looked back at him, childishly enjoying his meal while telling her all about his day and this amazing friend of his. She loved him. She really did. And she was holding off on him only because her life was a mess. It wasn’t anymore, though. It had gotten so much better in these last few months. Why should she continue to hold back and risk losing him?

She shouldn’t.

Her eyes widened.

That would solve all of her problems. If she were to date Chat Noir, Marinette would receive all the attention she craved from him and wouldn’t be attracted to other men. She’d give Chat all of her love and there would be none left for someone else. Adrien wouldn’t be able to make her heart stutter just by smiling at her or make her blush with an innocent wink. Chat deserved that. Plus, after years of loyally loving her, Chat Noir had more rights than anyone else to have her love and devotion.

Marinette let a smile tug at the corner of her lips. It really was the perfect solution. She’d only have to be careful going about it, considering the way Chat was acting around Ladybug lately. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She knew her Chaton and for him to avoid Ladybug, something had to be horribly wrong.

Marinette took a sip of water, observing her partner. A moment later, it all came together, just like one of her lucky charms she hadn’t used in a while.

“Say Chat,” she started carefully as soon as he’d stopped talking. “We’re friends, right?”

He grinned. “Of course, we are.”

“And as my friend, you’d tell me if there was something bothering you or you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yes. Why?”

Marinette sighed. “You know how my best friend runs the Ladyblog?”

“Alya Césaire?”

“Yes. Alya. She shared a concern with me a few days ago, and I wanted to ask you about it, but it could possibly be a very private issue.”

He shrugged. “Ask away. I’m fine with you asking me anything except my identity.”

“Why have you been avoiding Ladybug?”

Chat stared at her in shock, his cat ears slowly falling down against his hair. “I… Why would you think I’m avoiding Ladybug?”

“That’s just what Alya concluded based on your reported activity and sightings. When Ladybug was absent for a little over a week, you patrolled every night. But when she returned, you’ve been scarcely seen… and last week, you didn’t patrol at all.”

He looked away, whispering. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Marinette stood up and, walking over to him, crouched by his side and laid her hand on top of his. “Chat, whatever it is, don’t you think it’ll be easier if you share it with someone? Anything is easier to carry with a friend. I should know that by now.”

His eyes filled with worry and sadness. He watched her for a full minute before whispering, “Not if that ‘something’ might cause me to lose her.”

She squeezed his hand in a reassuring gesture. “You’ll never lose her, Chat. You’ve been partners for so long. Probably went through a lot together. You’re two halves of a whole. You’ll never lose her. She loves you. She’ll understand whatever it is.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You’ll lose her faster if you keep avoiding her,” Marinette added. “Don’t you think she’s noticed? Can you even imagine what’s going through her head as she’s trying to figure out why her partner suddenly doesn’t want to see her anymore?”

His eyes wide, he stared at Marinette. “I… I didn’t think about it that way.”

“You don’t have to tell her details, but you have to talk to her and figure this out, or you risk losing her trust and that is the most difficult thing to fix… if it’s possible at all.”

He bowed his head, gripping his hair with his hands. “You don’t understand, Marinette. It’s something big. Really big! I… I wouldn’t even know how to start. I mean how do you tell your partner that the enemy you fought together for ten years was your father!”

Her eyes bulging, Marinette froze, goosebumps running down her skin.

Chat abruptly stopped speaking, staring at her in horror. “No! I—didn’t mean… That’s not what I meant. Hawkmoth—he isn’t—” Chat dropped his head back into his hands and groaned. “Please, don’t hate me. I didn’t know until a few weeks ago.”

Her heart racing, Marinette watched him in shock. His father? Hawkmoth was Chat Noir’s father?

“Your father?” she echoed as if in a trance.

“Was,” Chat whispered into his hands. “He passed away recently.”

Marinette flinched but shook the thought away. “Passed? You didn’t…”

Chat shook his head. “Stroke. I found out about him being Hawkmoth only after he’d been dead for a while.”

Marinette swallowed, unable to stop staring at him. How awful that must have been to discover. She couldn’t even imagine how she’d feel, what she’d do if her father ended up being Hawkmoth. If any of her relatives or friends were to be revealed as the villain who’d terrorized the city for years. No wonder Chat had been acting so strange around Ladybug. He must have felt terrible. Really, how could he tell Ladybug something like that?

Lost for words, Marinette did the only thing she could think of—she pulled him closer and wrapped her partner in a tight embrace, whispering in the crook of his neck, “I’m so sorry.”

His breathing hitched, Chat tensed at the contact, but when she tugged him even closer, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Marinette, clinging to her as if she were his lifeline.

“I should’ve known.” His voice trembled. “He was a horrible human being.”

“Still, that must have been awful to discover.”

Chat barely breathed. “Devastating.”

They stayed in each other's arms for a few minutes, silently taking comfort in one another. His breathing, ragged and erratic at first, normalized as Chat slowly relaxed. When his grip on her eased, Marinette hesitantly pulled away to take his face in her hands. He still held her in his arms, searching her face for something, looking for the answer to a question. An answer he dreaded receiving.

“You’re not your father,” Marinette said, looking at him. “Neither he nor his actions, define who you are.”

Chat let out a sigh of relief, his eyes closing with it. “Thank you.”

“And you need to tell Ladybug. She knows you. She will understand and help you get through this.”

His eyes still closed, Chat shook his head. “Not yet. I’m not ready yet.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever be ready, Chat. I don’t think anyone can ever be ready to disclose something like that, but tell me, do you trust her? Do you trust Ladybug?”

“With my life,” he whispered.

“Then tell her. Tell her everything. Tell her about your father. Tell her you love her. Everything. If you truly trust her, you know she’ll understand and won’t judge you. She’d want you to tell her so she can help you get through this. Am I wrong?”

His gaze falling to the ground, Chat thought for a few moments before looking back at Marinette. “You’re probably right. I should tell her.”

“You should.”

“And I will.”

“Tonight.”

“Tonig—What? Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight,” Marinette nodded. “Don’t delay any longer. The longer you put this off, the harder it’ll be to do. So, just go out there and tell her.”

He blinked a few times, staring at her, then let a smile sneak onto his lips. “Okay. I will. Tonight. I’ll tell her everything.”

Marinette gave him a smile and pulled him back into a hug. Her poor Chaton. He’d been through a lot. His problems were so much bigger than hers, and she’d been too wrapped up in her own mess to notice that he’d been slowly falling apart. No more. She wouldn’t allow that. Marinette would put her partner first for once and she would give him all the love he deserved.

Tonight.

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ML #chat noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #the other you

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ymiwritesstuff · 4 years

Note

Aaaaaaaa the vampire Kak one was so good!!! Really love your writing! 💖 Could I ask for a continuation of it, where poor Kak's just trying his best to avoid taking blood from anyone (especially fem!reader), but he's become too weak/hungry that he needs it? That boy's already incredibly stubborn, feel like vampirism would make him ten times moreso 😔

I’m so glad you loved the Vampire Kakyoin story! And thank you for the kind words

A Different Side

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 3: Stardust Crusaders

Vampire!Noriaki Kakyoin x Reader

Summary: Despite all the help you’ve provided for Kakyoin, the vampire is still frightened of himself and a certain trait that has been kept away relatively well until now

Continuation of Isolation please read that before this one in order to understand the context better

Moments like these made Kakyoin’s insides shine with delight. A quiet moment between the two of you, your head laid gently on his lap, your (E/C) eyes closed as you enjoyed his presence next to you. Kakyoin would carefully examine your resting form with his lavender eyes, a quiet smile spread across his lips. Ever since the male had talked with you on that fateful evening, all his fears and worries had come to a halt. He could finally enjoy life with you by his side.

A part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t talked with you sooner as it would’ve improved his life much faster. However you were understanding of his situation and even after that evening, you allowed him to take his time, only visiting him when he was comfortable. It took him quite some time to gain the ability to relax in your presence as he was still unsure if he could control his potentially dangerous desires. However Kakyoin was eventually able to behave somewhat normally around you, much thanks to your support and patience, which he was eternally grateful for. You completely devoted yourself to him in order to help him. You had completely reworked your schedule so you were able to spend time with him during nights, talking with him, shopping for him and just about anything else he needed. He was soon comfortable enough to go out with you in the darkness, enjoying the chilly breeze and the sky filled with stars.

However soon a harassing anxiety made its way into Kakyoin’s mind as a sudden craving of blood hit him like a truck. The feeling of succession due to being able to withstand the need in the past was utterly destroyed as one night whilst walking along the dimly lit streets, he craved for the red substance, eyes shining with hunger as they looked at every person who walked past him. The feeling was overwhelming, his fangs grated in lust, his pupils dilated and his hands trembled as he was trying to resist the urge that almost overpowered him.

It had been a few days since the first urge to consume blood had presented itself and small bits of said urge hadn’t left him. He still felt the need somewhere in his mind, bothering him to the point where he almost began to isolate himself again. In addition to this, he had noticed his physical condition weakening, hence the current relaxation session with you. Despite the delight he felt while in your company, Kakyoin could feel the lust in him, as if it was slowly consuming him, eating his last bits of humanity.

His face twisted, he raised a trembling hand that seemed to move against his will, landing on the delicate flesh of your neck. How easily he could break that skin, dig into the flesh and drain the crimson liquid from your body. His fingers and claws gently crazed the surface, his nose already smelling the substance. He would be in top condition, his cravings would be silenced and his tongue could finally taste the delicious blood he so desperately needed. His fingers twitched. His tongue glided over his top lip. His lavender eyes shining with desire. Just a little bit. A tiny drop-

Kakyoin quickly retreated his hand from your body, his breathing quickening. That was close. Too close. He had almost given in to his twisted desires. This was exactly what he was afraid of. If he hadn’t snapped out of it, who knows what he would’ve done. He would never hurt you, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he did. But why? Why was it so difficult to resist?

The sudden movements beside you caused you to open your eyes and look up at Kakyoin who had an expression that practically screamed in fear and anxiety. You wasted no time sitting up and tending to his distraught state. “Are you okay, Nori? Did something happen?” Kakyoin’s eyes moved to you, his throat unable to let out the words bubbling in it. He looked tired, weak and he was trembling as if his cold body temperature was bothering him. You begin to wonder what caused such behavior but soon recall the feeling of a cold hand on your neck. Quickly moving your own hand to the spot where you could feel his, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Your (E/C) eyes move to him to silently ask him what was going on.

Your guess seemed to be correct as Kakyoin’s worried expression only worsens. “(Name) I.. I didn’t mean to..” You keep your hand in the same spot, deeply thinking about everything that’s currently happening. He didn’t mean to drink your blood, you knew it. He would never do it without you knowing. However he looked very weak. During all this time you’ve been helping him and you hadn’t even thought about the fact that he needed blood. How long has he been craving it? “I.. I would never.. (Name).. I-I’m sorry I-”

“You need it, Nori. You’re becoming weaker and weaker. I can’t stand to see you like that. So please.. Drink my blood” Kakyoin’s lavender eyes widened in surprise and concern. Your selfless offer caught him off guard, his lust quickly rising to the surface once again. He was quick to try to deny you: “N-no (Name).. I can’t.. What if I.. Drink too much..?” The past fears of losing control quickly returned, making him think of the worst possible scenario. He and you both knew how much he needed blood, however Kakyoin couldn’t possibly allow himself to do it. If something were to happen, how was he supposed to live with himself?

“You have to. Who knows what will happen if you don’t. Nori I can’t lose you.. If I have to sacrifice my blood in order to keep you with me, I’ll do it” Your pleas dug into his soul like a sharp drill. He knew you were right, he needed blood in order to stay alive. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much pain you’d be in if he were to disappear. As much as he hated it, he had to do it. A painful sigh of approval escapes his lips. “Alright.. But please.. Stop me if I.. If I can’t do it myself..” A relieved smile makes its way onto your face and with a nod, you prepare yourself for the next few moments.

Kakyoin lowers his face to your neck, his whole body lightly trembling and the smell and feeling of your blood calling to him. He could practically see the red liquid flowing through your veins under the thin skin. It almost looked like it wanted to get out and be consumed by the red haired male. Before he sinks his fangs into you, he gently connects his lips with the surface in an attempt to not only soothe you but also apologize for the fact that he has to do this. You take a deep breath, holding onto his body, waiting for the inevitable pain that will present itself as soon as his fangs pierce your skin.

And said pain quickly comes forth as you feel the two fangs sink into your neck, followed by the feeling of your blood being sucked out. Kakyoin has a firm hold of you, a part of it coming from the side of him that craves your blood. Once the taste of the substance fills his mouth, he’s unable to control his urges. He needs it more than he ever would’ve thought. Your blood is the most delicious thing he has ever had the pleasure of tasting. A part of him regrets the fact that he was about to deny such an experience from him. The texture, the taste, everything. Everything about your vital fluid makes only makes him crave for more, his vision blurring in pure excitement and lust.

You grip onto his clothes and lean your head against his shoulder. The pain is mostly gone, but this whole experience is so new that you barely know how to react. Your eyes are closed as you try to adjust to the strange feeling. The increased pressure leads you to suspect that the side of him that he was so afraid of has come through and you now know that he won’t be able to stop himself anymore. Tiny tears make their way to your eyes as the power he uses to drain you increases to the point where you can’t withstand it anymore. You gently try to pull away but Kakyoin denies your silent request by holding you tighter, a growl-like sound erupting from his throat.

“N-Nori.. I.. I don’t think I can take it anymore” You gently grip his head and guide it away from your neck. Kakyoin quickly snaps out of his lust-filled state and willingly pulls himself away, licking the remaining blood dripping from your wound. He swiftly looks at you, concern painted across his face. With a smile you assure him that you’re fine and also note his improved look. He now looks much healthier, his eyes shine normally, his skin glowing lightly. “Are you okay?” His voice has regained its usual tone, which only increases your smile. “Yeah. And you’re too” Kakyoin is relieved to hear that he was able to control himself, despite your blood making him feel forbidden things.

You quickly pull him into a kiss in which you can taste the remains of your blood on his lips. He wraps his arms around you in a manner that radiates warmth and care. He’s happy to have someone like you in his life, helping and supporting him when no one else could. Kakyoin makes a silent vow within his mind to protect you from everything that could ever hurt you. This includes the side of him that would surely crave the delicious fluid flowing through your body again in the future.

#jjba #jojo #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo part 3 #jojo's bizarre adventure stardust crusaders #noriaki kakyoin #jojo kakyoin #jjba noriaki kakyoin #jjba kakyoin #kakyoin x reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #jjba x reader

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eternaljouska · 4 years

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"sunflower garden" and joshua for the title request thing 🌻💐💕 thanku!!

∆∆∆∆∆ Title Request 2/6 ∆∆∆∆∆

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: I am so so sorry this took a whole eon to finish. Thank you so much for requesting and waiting for this~~ I hope this is satisfactory. Also, I don’t know why this is so long when my plot is, again, questionable lololol

Sunflower is just a little price for such as little happiness. It’s gaseous, happiness. You can smell it. Before it’s gone with the wind just like that. But it’s worth it.

You wonder what would happen if you’re to give out diamond instead. Would people look at you crazy? Lord, even with the obnoxious yellow-orange flowers in your hands, people already look at you crazy.

You are out for a walk near the Han River—it’s a walk for today, not a run, not biking, but a walk—handing out one sunflower for anyone you deem needs some cheering up. There’s a little plastic tag attached to each flower; you’d take your time to write a short encouragement to hide inside it whenever you wait for the florist assistant to prepare your regular. And then you’d go on your way, hunting for gloomy people on your stroll. But that’s it, as long as the stock is still available.

There are people who’d be weirded out by your sudden involvement in their sweet miserable life. No offense. Really. You think all lives are just the same: sweet and simultaneously, miserable. Sometimes, not even sweet at all. But there are others who’d be pleasantly surprised.

There was this one kid from two weeks ago. She had cried, you didn’t know why, but you swept in anyway with your sun in the smiling flowers—please, excuse the poor attempt at replacing a knight in the shining armor. You had continued your pilgrimage after you wiped her tears dry and made sure that she smiled. But when you’re about to start on your religious self-reflection on the bridge, facing the holy sunset of the Han River, someone tugged at the hem of your baby blue sundress.

It was the little girl.

She stood in front of you, a bright smile challenging the sun behind you and a fresh baby breath posy inside both of her tiny palms. You fell on your knees and pulled her in a hug. Lord, you needed a hug. Before you pulled away, you noticed a shadow of a man standing a few feet away under the shade. It must’ve been her father, you’d thought and couldn’t help but think that sunflower needed to cost a lot more than it was.

That was the one time you’d felt the magic at its strongest. And just like humans did, you craved for more.

This kind of outing usually ends with you donating some water to the Han River. But that day, it didn’t. After the little girl ran towards the man, you’d turned around to face the sun with teary eyes. But you didn’t cry. You felt happy. And happiness was every drop of water swimming in the river in front of you. You just stood there, until it swallowed whole the dying sun.

However, today, you cry.

It’s not an ugly cry. People would think you’re a lunatic if they saw you like that. It’s just water, tears, streaming down your eyes and into the river. Your gaze follows the infinitesimal droplet giving in to gravity. You smile. You always think that you’re such a bad person. But now you feel like the best altruist, donating water for the Han River.

Lord, what a joke.

You see your tears falling to your arms hanging from the rail and then continuing their journey somewhere you can’t keep your eyes on. They rarely even fall into the river, just a very insignificant amount does. And now you’re acting as if at least a quarter of Han River is your tears.

You wish everyone was that little girl. Or her father. You wish that after almost a year doing the same set of activities would make people recognize you and finally return the hospitality with a simple hi or a ghost of an acknowledging smile. No one besides the people from the flower shop does. And as you cry, you think about why nobody’s ever walked to you to ask the reason for your tears.

Maybe they know not to meddle in such a sacred act of crying. Or maybe after almost a year, they know to let you be because you’ll stop eventually and go home. Until the day comes again for you to repeat the habit.

Maybe you should actually change sunflower with diamonds hanging from your neck and circling every inch of your arms, spending your ten-minute walk trying to blind everybody’s eyes. Maybe only that way would people see you. Or maybe not, since they’d be even more blinded to see.

You chuckle at the image of you with a pair of shiny sunglasses copying a supermodel, strutting with hands spread out to make an exhibition out of the diamonds in your possession. You’d lower the sunglasses when people look and throw one random bracelet their way and a necklace to the others. You swear you’re such a funny person, too bad nobody would stick around long enough for that side to start emerging. But then when your laughter dies, you feel pathetic. Have you been crying here because you want someone to notice? What an attention seeker.

And Joshua would have said otherwise and defended you—like he usually has—if only he hadn’t been caught completely off guard.

Joshua’s afternoon exercise is cycling from his neighborhood, around the Han River, and back home, the route only interrupted by a quick stop in his favorite smoothie shop. He rarely brings his friend with him because most of the time, they’ll very likely ruin his zen. They’d start an unnecessary race that messes with his pace and force him to pay for their smoothies and even have the nerve to blame him for the sweat their own bodies produce.

Today, he’s accompanied by Seungcheol and Soonyoung, both of which are clingy—as hell. And the amount of stress he got from his unwise decision was enough to last him half a lifetime. They had argued about who had the largest shadow—very important, he knows—and when Joshua pedaled faster to get ahead of them both, the disaster began.

Soonyoung was the first to realize his attempt to escape, and so he said, “See, Shua can’t take being close to you any longer. I know he only likes me.”

The guy reached his right in no time and Seungcheol, being the mature one that he is, raced him and singsong, “He can only tolerate you because I’m here, though.”

So that’s how Joshua wished a truck would kindly and gently run them over.

But that much stress he could handle. The additional dose they added when they started looking at you weirdly, he couldn’t.

Joshua walked out of the smoothie shop later than usual. All because his highly intelligent friends couldn’t notice the urgency of his tapping foot, the urgency of wanting to be in the right moment and in the right place. He already didn’t see you in his round about the Han River. There’s no way he’d miss you on the bridge. So he did what he knew would raise Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s interest: betting in a race.

Once they all reached the finish line, which obviously was picked by Joshua for a specific reason, Seungcheol and Soonyoung immediately noticed you and wondered aloud as to why you’re crying in front of the bridge. Soonyoung squeaked and almost shouted at you, thinking that you’re planning to jump over the bridge.

It was a fair thought. Joshua was like that the first time he saw you. He’d hesitated to say something, so he waited. He waited with bated breath until the sun completely set and you wiped your face with your hands and left. You rode a lemon-colored bike that matched the yellow of the sunflowers in your hands. You had caught him following you home, and Joshua could only stutter out his explanation. But in the end, when the shadows of worry cleared out of your eyes, you smiled instead. And with a thank you, you gift him the last of your sunflowers.

Joshua doesn’t see your bike anywhere near you, and that fact is somehow unsettling. He has come every weekend, sometimes early enough to witness you doing your sunflower patrol, to know that you only leave your bike home when you do your run. And you doing your run means that your day is worse than usual.

So today is one of those days.

And on those days, he, more than anything, wants to give you back all the sunflowers in the world.

But his friends, flanking him, are watching you with pity in their eyes. The balloon-seller who stopped Soonyoung from shouting for you earlier had told them to let you be, saying that you’ve been here a lot and perhaps just like the attention people give. It had made Joshua wondered for a split second, just how many people in the park recognize you. But it was the least of his priority. It’s the middle-aged man’s remark and Seungcheol’s question that came after he left.

She’s attention seeker or something?

Joshua would’ve defended you against the balloon seller’s comment and his friend’s question any day if it’s not for the fact that he’s too late—if it’s not for the fact that you’ve been listening to the exchange all along.

You meet Joshua’s dark orbs and grasp the worry swarming within them. It’s almost like the first time that you saw him, when you confronted him for following you home. Only back then, his worry was slightly muted by a hint of curiosity. And now, listening to the conversation of the men around him, you think you have an idea as to why he’s looking at you like he’s ready to throw himself under a bus.

The words that his friends said didn’t hit the mark, not after you just admitted it to yourself earlier, admitted that you indeed want the attention, just not the one that people have been giving you—if they even spare you any. You know that Joshua feels horrible about his friend’s question or the seller’s comments. Or maybe because of the fact that you heard them, you can never know.

You’ve seen him around on the weekends, Joshua. You’ve seen hovering around the bridge, watching you—or the sunset. And sometimes he might follow you to your neighborhood. You know you should be worried, but after that first meeting, you’ve accepted his presence in your periphery. If only he would move a little bit to your line of vision.

Joshua never said hi. He never uttered any more word after he left with your sunflower that first night. And he blames his insurmountable stupidity for that. He likes to conjure up his ideal next meeting with you, the perfect words, the majestic setting. There would be no more of that, he’s afraid. His friends have ruined it. You had met his stare for long seconds before you turned around and left for the direction of your neighborhood. And Joshua hadn’t been able to follow you because of his hellish friends. They finally noticed that his expression was made up of not only of exhaustion only when they invited him to Wonwoo’s house for games.

Joshua brushed them off, but they knew. As hellish as they were, they’re still his friends. So he told them about you. Their reaction at the end of his story, the immense guilt written in the line of their faces, was a little victory for him. But then they forced him to go to where you live and send their apology before they do it themselves since she doesn’t know them yet.

And so here he is, standing in front of a house approximately a third of his in size, but of which small lawn is in much better care than his wider one. He smiles at the variety of flowers that it has, imagining you crouching in front of each one and giving them such meticulous attention. He realizes it then that he knows nothing about you other than your love for flowers. You must have spent a lot of money on flowers alone, but the house in front of him gives him the impression that you come from a more humble family. Do you work? Or are you still in school? Do you live with your parents at all? Are they still present? Suddenly, the prospect of talking to you, trying to draw an explanation of your daily ritual, seems very absurd for him, for someone who has no clue of who you are. It seems beyond personal. It seems out of the line.

Joshua grunts and knocks his head to the solid surface in front of him and let it stay there only to realize five seconds too late just what it was that he has done. He heard the running steps first and then suddenly you’re in front of him.

Joshua’s eyes are blown wide in surprise as he takes a few scurrying steps backward.

You still have your face on the window, flipping the curtain a little bit to identify the person outside your door, but Joshua is stupefied. You were so close to him, so close that if the window isn’t there, his lips probably have had brushed against your temple. This is so not the moment for him to think about such a thing, not when he could’ve broken your glass window with his head bump. Not when you’re standing on the doorway, eyes equally wide, with your almost translucent long white nightdress.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“Is this about your friends?” In the span of a couple of seconds, you have closed the door behind you and stood less than three feet away from him. You’re hugging yourself. The night air must be cold for you in your nightdress, and Joshua feels a knot forming in his stomach. He can’t imagine you chose to sacrifice the warmth of your house as to not let him inside is a good sign. But after he let it settled, he knows it’s the sensible option. He would be wary if you had let him in that easily, he’s still a stranger after all.

And to be frank, if you had the time to consider your action, you don’t know what choice you would choose. You had been hiding under your blanket, going over the conversation you heard and kept listening to a couple of hours earlier when there’s a glaring sound coming from outside. You had jumped out of your bed and ran to your window to see, but you weren’t prepared for the sight in front of you. It took you a fraction of seconds to put the name into its face, and without being completely aware of what you did, you had opened the door and walked a few steps towards Joshua.

He scans your stance, takes a short glance towards your house, and then stares back at you, which makes you feel suddenly conscious of how you present yourself in front of him. “Say it,” you demand, placing more force on your voice than necessary.

“I’m, I’m sorry. They’re sorry. They wanted me to say it because they don’t know how to do it. Because you don’t know them.”—he clears his throat again—“Not that we know each other, but you know, I’m more, um, familiar with you, you know. But they want to say sorry too, I mean, I come so that you can meet them, that is, if you want.” You hear him grumbles, probably scolding himself for the quality of the words coming out of his mouth, not that you think they are bad.

“Hm,” you mumble noncommittally before you continue, “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel sorry.”

“But—“

“Their words missed the mark. I do want attention. That doesn’t make it right, but… I was thinking about their words, and, um, they brought out some truth I’ve been struggling with. So it’s okay, I guess.”

Joshua doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to, so he just looks at you, struggling to contain the questions building up inside of him. He wants you to share that truth. He wants to know more about your sunflower patrol, but he’s not certain you would tell him even if he begs you. Lord, he wants to know. Why had you forgiven his friends’ words so easily? Why had you accepted them? He was about to burst when you finally slice the thick silence and blurt out, “You never said hi.”

Joshua blinks. And he can feel his whole body burns red with the shame washing over him. All the whys he’s asking is now turned inward. Why, why hadn’t he said something? Why hadn’t he come to you? What’s his reason? His excuse?

When he finds the answer, he let out a soft scoff. “Because I’m afraid. Because I’m a coward.”

He would never guess that you could deviate so far from his expectation, but you did. You smile and whisper, strangely proudly, “And I’m an attention-seeker.” He doesn’t know why, but that brings out a smile out of him also. But then you turn around and walk towards your house, to quickly for him to register. His smile was almost replaced by panic when you say, “It’s cold. Let’s talk inside.”

She brews him a cup of hot chamomile tea, and Joshua has the sure knowledge that the warmth within him comes not from that tea or the four walls encircling him. “I, um, I’m sorry. I was afraid you’d think of me strangely if I walked to you when you, um, you know, when you were crying on the bridge.” She laughs at that, and the sound of it warms him even more.

“And yet you follow me home after,” she taunts. Joshua’s eyes grow wide again, he always makes sure to keep his distance and to bike away once you enter your neighborhood. He’s never followed you home completely like that first night he saw you. “Don’t worry. After that first night, I don’t mind your presence anymore. But I do wish you’d just come to me and offer your company directly.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just—“

“Stop saying sorry or I’ll kick you out of my house.” Ah, right, your house. He hasn’t had the chance to look around with his nerve eating up him. But this house… The white wall opposite of the window, the wall in front of him, has considerable amount of picture frames: some containing real pictures, some with dried flowers inside. So you live alone, he concludes. The sound of a cleared throat snaps him out of his attempt to learn more about you by observing your home, and Joshua wishes he could be clever enough to try a more subtle method.

“I wanted them to be diamonds, you see,” you start, but Joshua has no clue of what you’re trying to say. “The sunflowers. I might not seem like it, but I have the money to do so. But that would attract the wrong kind of attention. Even sunflowers already did so.”

Joshua’s heart races at the realization of the direction this conversation is going. You’ll let him know. You’ll let him know. He bites his lips to prevent himself from saying stupid things that will make you stop telling him your story.

“When you do something good, is it so wrong that you wish a little something in return? I just want to be that unexpected kindness someone’s hoping to make their day better, you know, like when you have such a bad day, and the smile of the bus driver acknowledging you is like the greatest present you’ve received in your life? I can’t hope people stop and compliment me every time I have a bad day to better my mood. I used to go to this park back then when I was a child. They have a small section dedicated for sunflowers. I remember how happy I always was when I visited the park. So I tried one day, giving out flowers, sunflowers, to stranger on the street. And I keep doing it. Because the surprise on their faces, their smiles, they make me feel good about myself. Wow, I realize it now. Saying things out loud really makes a difference, huh?”

“W-what?” Joshua stutters out, caught off guard once again. “It’s not—It’s not bad that you do it to make yourself happier. It may sound self-centered, but everyone is all about themselves first anyway, right? That’s how it supposed to be. You take care of yourself. And what you do while doing so, it makes other people happy also. So that’s good, right?”

You let out a single laugh. “You think so? I just— the people who are there a lot, they say things that make me feel bad about myself. After hours of going around with flowers, I’d hear them say those things and the happiness just gone. It becomes a burden, somehow, I don’t know.”

Joshua doesn’t know what to say, and never in his life before does he feel more useless than he does at this moment. That is, until he remembers what he shoved inside his pocket before he rode his bicycle to your house. He jerks into movement and he can feel your apt attention on him. He reaches into his pocket, takes the small object out, and offers it to you.

You accept the small pin from his hand. It’s a sunflower pin with eyes and a curving lines on its face and some words engraved on the bottom part of it. I am a smiling flower, it says. It’s so pretty, so so pretty even with tears starting to blur your vision. “I’m not good with words. I’m always scared of saying the wrong words, so I resort to not saying anything,” Joshua says, his hand reaching for the back of his neck now. “When I saw that pin, you came to my mind, so yeah… Um, I know not everyone appreciates flowers, but I know you do. You… I think you’re like a smiling flower, so I hope that more than anyone, you can appreciate yourself, like you do flowers.”

You’re stunned, still looking down at the pin, but with tears clearly lining your eyes. You look up and smile at him. You notice his surprise at the sight of your tears, but you pay it no heed. You rise from your seat and he follows suit in reflex, but that action allows you more freedom to do what you want to do next.

Joshua believes he’s already dead when you wrap your arms around him, but his thundering heart crushes that belief. It’s not his current main problem, though. His ultimate problem now is where he’s supposed to put his own hands, which are now limp on his side. He raises them slowly only to find that you already let him go. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Oh? Yes, no problem,” he answers instantly. His heart still won’t calm down, but that’s not what bothers him at the moment. He knows it’s coming. Goodbye. It’s coming any time now. And he’s not ready. He doesn’t know if he’d have the courage to talk to you again if he has to say goodbye now. Quick. Think of something. “Oh!”

“Oh?”

“The, um, the meeting with my friends? Can you, would you want to do that?”

“Ah, that,” you chuckle softly, “of course.”

Both of you share a few moments of silence until you chuckle again, “Goodnight, um…”

“Joshua,” he says. In all honesty, you already know his name, but you refuse to present yourself like a creep that you’d already know his name, in case he doesn’t know yours yet. You walk him to your door and repeat what you said, “Goodnight, Joshua.”

“Goodnight…”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he speaks your name as if it’s the first time he’d heard it, and it may be so, for you don’t think even the sellers around the Han River know your name. You don’t have friends that would holler your name like crazy as Joshua’s friends, that’s why, although you imagine that that certain friends would meet you soon enough for their said apology.

Just before you close your door on him—knowing that he would not go until you do so—you call him, “Hey, Joshua.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not as cowardice as you think you are, you know. I’ve seen you defending me against people’s comments in the park.” His eyes widen again, and you decide that is one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen. When it’s apparent that he’s handled the surprise of you knowing his small act, you say your request, “Talk to me tomorrow?”

There, there, his eyes grow even wider, and you chuckle. “Make sure that you do. Be careful on your way home. Goodnight.”

“Y/n, wait.” The closing door stops moving and you open it a little bit more to let your head out. “I know this place. The, um, the owner is my mom’s friend. She loves flowers too, has her own garden and all. But only recently did she become obsessed with sunflowers. You know, one day her youngest daughter brought a sunflower home, and she suddenly felt this renewed and expanse fondness of sunflowers.” Joshua’s stare flickers upward and finally notice the eyebrow you raised at him.

Your point? You seem to say.

“My point is, I want to take you there. I can ask for her permission and take you there,” he finishes with a long exhale.

“For the meeting with your friends?” you ask.

“No! I mean, no,” he clears his throat, “No, for, um, our talk, tomorrow. I’m going to make sure that I do.”

He smiles at the end of his sentence, and you return it. “Can we bike there?”

“It’s pretty close, yeah.”

“Alright, then. Pick me up anytime.” You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing and for the third time tonight, you half-whispers, “Goodnight, Joshua.”

“It is,” Joshua murmurs after you closed your door, his smile bigger than the one on the sunflower pin’s face. “It is a good night indeed.”

#thesvttown #joshua hong #hong jisoo fluff #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #hong jisoo #jisoo fluff #fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua scenario #hong jisoo scenario #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot

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caramelohaechan · 4 years

Text

Benji’s ~ (W. Yukhei)

my first lucas writing hehe :)

Fandom: WayV, NCT U, SuperM

Genre: Fluff

Warning(s): gender neutral!reader // this will get you craving good hot cocoa, and can make you sad benji’s isn’t real // also i tried my best to edit it so that it’s gender neutral but I sometimes slip up so just let me know if you catch anything!

It was thirty degrees outside, and you were in line waiting for hot chocolate from a food truck.

As your luck usually went, it could’ve been worse. You could have been like the lady behind you, who somehow thought that dressing cute was more important than her health, and was wearing only one layer of clothing that didn’t look like it was providing much warmth. You could also be so unlucky as to be the guy who had just reached the front of the line, only to realize he had forgotten his wallet. Fortunately, your luck was just good enough that you weren’t either of those people, because you had your money stuffed into the back of your phone case, and your boyfriends jacket was just thick enough to keep the harsh winds to a minimum.

Unfortunately, your luck ended with that. Your body was warm, but you had forgotten gloves and a beanie, so your fingers and ears felt like they could fall off at any given moment. You had also managed to get the news about the truck late, so you had been in line for about twenty minutes already.

You were only doing this because of aforementioned boyfriend, of course, because he had been busy beyond belief lately and today was his first day off in weeks. When you heard that Benji’s was going to be driving around the city and stopping in several areas throughout the day you had been ecstatic. Lucas never shut up about their hot cocoa since last winter, and since the truck was only every used randomly, you had taken the chance and woken up early and did your best to track down the bright red vehicle. Of course, now that you were only six people away from finally getting the hot cocoa, you were starting to regret it. Your feet were aching and a mix of cold and sweaty, and your back felt like it might crack in half from the constant standing.

Lucas hadn’t noticed you were gone yet, you guessed, or he was still asleep. You wouldn’t blame him either way. The constant work SM was putting him under was ridiculous, what with two comebacks in the span of two months, not even including the tour that was going to be starting soon, you had wanted to do something that might make him a little less miserable. You had already planned the day, all activities that the two of you could do in the comfort of your apartment, and had even plans on making him dinner, something that Lucas loved, but the two of you never really had time to enjoy.

It took about another ten minutes for the six people in front of you to get their orders, and by the time you reached the opening in the side of the truck. you were bouncing on the balls of your heels. Benji, a chubby man with a handlebar mustache, grinned down at you as you beamed up at him.

“What can I get for ya?” He asked, jolly despite the many customers he had been through the passed hour alone.

You curled your fingers over the edge of the window and tried to peep inside of the truck. The smells were so glorious, like Christmas itself in a scent, and made your heart thump against your chest with excitement. “Two Deluxe Hot Chocs with extra marshmallows and whipped cream, please.”

Benji nodded, repeating your order to the lady behind him. He turned back to you. “Anything else? Maybe some of our special peppermint cookies? They’re limited stock.”

Benji reminded you distinctly of Santa Claus, so saying no felt like a crime. Plus, you knew that Lucas wouldn’t deny any sort of sweet. If he were there he would’ve instantly said yes. You nodded and held up two fingers. “Two then, since you bargained so well.”

He chuckled and rang up our order. “Twelve ninety-five.”

You pop your case off and hand him over a bill. “Wow, no wonder you guys are so popular. Your hot cocoa is the best and your prices are good. It makes the hour long wait worth it.”

He handed you your change and you stuffed it into the pocket of your sweats without looking, your hand immediately pulling you to your tiptoes to see the magic happening inside of the truck. A warmth hit your face and you saw the cutest bag decorated with candy canes holding two very delicious looking cookies being handed to Benji.

Benji leaned out of your way to let you peep the process behind him as he tied the bag with a red and white striped string. “Business has been booming ever since last year. Apparently, a kpop idol said that our hot chocolate was the best in the country. We were ecstatic, but all the business is hard to keep up with. That’s why we make our appearances random because when we show up we have to be ready for the hoards of people. We keep a little poster of the guy now on the back of our van. It’s all thanks to him that we have all of this.”

You tilted your head and wondered who had done all of this. You didn’t really have much time to think, as the second your mind started to wonder, Benji was handing you two very large steaming cups. There was a mountain of whipped cream covered with marshmallows peeking over the top, and the smell got stronger the closer they came to your face. Your mouth was watering from the smell alone.

“Is your journey from here long? Do you need lids?”

Your apartment complex was fifteen minute walk, ten in a taxi, but you knew you weren’t in the mood to make the walk. “Lids, please.”

Benji pushed the mountain down softly with a black cover and handed over the two cups along with your cute bag of cookies. “Have a wonderful day!”

You grabbed them and your frozen fingers were instantly thawed out by the warmth seeping through the cup, and you knew that Lucas was going to be so so happy when he finally got a hold of it himself. Your fingers struggled to hold onto the two cups as well as the tiny bag, but you managed not to drop anything as you hailed a taxi. Out of curiosity you found yourself looking to the back of the truck, wondering if there really was a picture of the idol who gave Benji’s hot cocoa a boost. You were absolutely surprised to see a still image of Lucas from behind the scenes of his Yestoday music video, carrying a cup just like the one you were holding, grinning into it like he was looking at the love of his life. You were even more surprised that SM left the logo unedited and allowed it to be part of the video. However, you were happy that it was. Not only was a small business getting promoted, but so was you’re boyfriend.

The ride back to your apartment was more tolerable, as your hands were now warm and your excitement had sky rocketed. You darted up the stairs to your door the instant you were in the building, and were out of breath by the time you managed to punch in the code.

As soon as your shoes were off and the door was shut safely behind you, a voice met your ears. “There you are! Where did you go off to? I got us a Disney plus membership, baby! It’s all everybody has been talking about!”

Lucas was bouncing on the couch in his pajamas, but his hair was damp like he just showered. He was scrolling through the many Disney movies and turned with a slight frown when you didn’t reply. When he finally saw you, cheeks and nose tinted pink and a grin enveloping your face he frowned even more in confusion. Then his eyes landed on your hands, where you were clutching the cups tightly to keep them warm. His face lit up and he yelled, jumping over the back of the couch to reach you quicker. He ran to you and immediately grabbed your face setting a large, yet gentle, smooch on your lips.

“Oh, my God! Baby, you did not!” He whisper yelled, looking starstruck as he reached out gingerly to grab one. “Is this why you were up so early? I thought you were probably getting breakfast, but then you took so long, but I didn’t want to bother you...”

He trailed off as you handed him his cup. It was a deluxe, but his large hands swallowed it like it was a small, and despite this he was so gentle, like he was holding a baby. You set your own cup on the counter along with the cookies and began to shed his jacket and your scarf. You chuckled when you saw him slowly peel off the lid. His eyes got glossy as soon as the whipped cream and marshmallows appeared.

He glanced up at you. “Did you try it yet?”

You shook your head and smile at him fondly. “I was waiting until you finally got yours.”

“Then come on!” He urged you to pick up your cup and take the lid off. He looked so happy you immediately did as he said. “We can try it together. It’s the best stuff on earth, I’ll promise you’ll love it.”

Once the two of you were toe to toe he placed the edge of the cups to his lips, waiting for you to follow suit, big puppy like eyes peering at you impatiently. When the cup was placed on your lips he nodded. You took a decent gulp, your mouth instantly filling with the best hot cocoa you’ve ever tried in your entire life. The whipped cream was slightly melted and made your taste buds dance, and when the warmness traveled down your throat and to the pit of your belly a marshmallow was left in your mouth, so you began to chew it happily.

Lucas basically yelled after he took his first sip, eyes wide and mouth satisfied. He began to do a cute little dance around you. “You are the best person in the world, and I love you so much.”

You squinted at him playfully, watching as he took another gulp without glancing at you. “Are you sure you’re talking to me? You seem to be speaking into your cup.”

He laughed, lifting his head to reveal a whipped cream mustache. He walked over and set his arm upon your shoulders, grinning down at you. “I’m definitely talking to you, baby. Seriously, I thought that I was going to be too busy this Winter and wouldn’t get a chance to get Benji’s. Thank you.”

He grinned, eyes crinkled as he looked down at you with his goofy cream mustache, almost happier than he had been in the photo taped to the back of Benji’s truck. You couldn’t help the urge to kiss him, so you leaned up and planted a large one right on his lips, cleaning the cream from his upper lip. He pressed his lips into yours and squeezed your shoulders tight.

“I love you too, goofball. I’m glad you’re happy because I nearly lost my fingers in the cold.” You chuckled, leaning into him so you could feel his warmth better. You reached a hand up to intertwine your fingers with his. “It’s a good thing I love you more than these things.”

He pressed a kiss onto your head. “Well, you don’t really need your fingers. I’d still love you, fingerless stub and all.”

You couldn’t hold back the snort that escaped at the image of it all, but your heart jumped too. Lucas really did love you. You turned to place another kiss on his jaw, the thoughts making your stomach go crazy with butterflies. “Thank you, I’d love you without fingers too.”

Lucas leaned his head on top of yours as he took another sip of hot cocoa. When he swallowed a little noise of satisfaction left his nose. He pointed your intertwined hands to the counter. “What are those?”

“Benji talked me into buying them. They’re peppermint cookies.” You said, whining when Lucas left you to go to the counter and inspect said cookies. “They are limited stock so I thought we’d try them out.”

Lucas licked his lips and settled into a stool by the counter, which overlooked the kitchen. He tugged at the red and white striped string and glanced at you with an excited glint in his eyes. “I think I will love anything that man makes. He is my hero, so how can I not try these cookies?.”

He took a perfectly baked cookie from the bag, which had pieces of candy cane peeking from the top, and smiled. Then he opened his mouth wide and nearly inhaled the entire cookie in one bite. As soon as he started chewing his eyes widened and loud noises began to escape his nose. He opened his mouth, and you got an unwanted view of the chewed up bits of cookie. “Woowwww, it’s so delicious! Mmmmmm, I love it!”

Your own grin returned as you watched him eat, unable to control the giggles that followed. Lucas was just too dramatic. “It’s so funny, do you know you’re his mascot? When you made that comment in the behind the scenes of the Yestoday video, they didn’t cut his brand out. He gained a lot of love after that. He has a picture of you on the back of his truck!”

Lucas’s eyes were so wide they took up most of his face. “Wow, really? Mark told me they went back and edited it out when they realized their mistake, but I didn’t know that people saw it in time. I’m so happy for him.”

He took the rest of the cookie in his mouth and followed it with a sip of hot cocoa. He tilted his head and scrunched his eyes, just like he always did when he loved the taste of something so much. Your cheeks began to hurt at this point from smiling so big at your adorable boyfriend. You reached over and brushed a strand of hair from his eyes as he took another sip of chocolate, his eyes crossing as he tried to take in one of the larger marshmallows in the cup. When he succeeded he pushed it onto his front teeth and grinned at you before letting out a huge laugh, the marshmallow nearly flying from his mouth.

“You’re too silly.” You giggled. “Anyways, what is it you said about Disney plus? I’ve been dying to watch 101 Dalmatians.”

Lucas’s eyebrows jumped and he nearly swallowed the marshmallow whole. He tugged at your pants and pointed to the couch while attempting to chew the marshmallow quickly. “I got us a thingy! We can watch them now!”

You gasped, grabbing your own hot cocoa and then charging to the couch. “Then what are you waiting for? Dim the lights we got some movies to watch!”

Lucas grabbed the last cookie and sped around in his socks, running from the lick to flick it off, and then to the curtains to make the room darker, before darting to the couch to you. He settled into the corner and spread his legs so that you could settle between them before throwing your a blanket over the both of you. You grabbed the remote and picked the movie the both of you loved a lot, settling into his chest. Lucas offered you a bite of the cookie and you took it, sinking your teeth into it.

“I love you,” He said again, wrapping his free arm around you. “Thank you again, darling.”

You pouted, your heart beating quickly, your mouth forgetting the delicious cookie in your mouth, and craving something sweeter. You swallowed the cookie bits before turning your head, your lips searching his. He looked from the TV and smiled softly before kissing your awaiting lips. You offered the cookie to him and he took it excitedly.

“You’re welcome, baby. I love you too.”

Then you laid your head on his chest and look to the TV, all of your previous plans forgotten. Just being in Lucas’s arms was so much better than anything you could plan.

two reblogs and I’ll make a second part where benji and lucas meet cuz they’re the true soulmates sorry y/n

(also, you can literally hear lucas’s voice when you write out his sentences wOW)

#lucas fluff #wong yukhei imagines #yukhei imagines #lucas imagines #wayv imagines #nct imagines #nct u imagines #lucas beiber imagines lmao #nct fluff

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k-renne · 5 years

Text

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY - CRACK UP

Your mother always told you to stay away from wolves, wolves like the Logan family who always seemed to be up to no good. It was only natural as a local farmer, you had to protect your livestock. Farmers just weren’t in the company of befriending werewolves.

A/N: Wow this update is long overdue! Sorry about the wait, some things in the story ended up taking a little bit of a different direction and of course life gets in the way. Also warning for talk of smut and angst!

The drive back to the farm was mostly quiet besides Clyde’s low humming to a Bob Seger song, he glanced at you every so often with a dreamy smile on his face. He was lovestruck, his heart so full it could burst - with all of his feelings for you pouring out. He let out a sigh as he pulled into your driveway, he had to look over at you again just to make sure that you were there.

The moon was almost full, he felt on edge. He didn’t know if it was because the way you lit his skin on fire or because he was itching for a shift. There was just a deep part of him that craved relief, release.

Clyde shut his eyes after he put the car in park, he took a greedy breath to taste your scent in the air. Sweet like pie, but heady from arousal. You felt such intense need for him, you wanted to whine.

You were tugging Clyde along gently as you held his hand, easily slipping your fingers around his. You had so many things to say to him yet none of them came to mind until you stepped on to your creaky porch.

“You didn’t have to do any of this,” You shake your head.

You didn’t know how to repay him. Clyde however disagreed.

“Yes farmgirl, I did,” Because you needed it. “I know humans are different-but we, at least my family, we take care of our own,” His voice deepened, his eyes dark as he took a step closer to you.

“I know,” You frowned. You’d been hearing a lot of that talk lately, except Clyde seemed to phrase it in a way that was much more possessive. “I just don’t see what’s so bad about that, about your kind.”

Clyde’s eyes softened, he always seemed to loom over you but with one look he made himself small. His hand squeezed yours and your eyes met his. “Then let me take care of ya sweetheart, please.”

He needed to take care of you. Whether it was just sharing sweet kisses and holding you tight or fucking you until you came undone on his cock, he’d do anything that you needed from him.

“Okay,” Your voice was quiet.

Clyde let out a shaky breath, okay. This was it. He’d show you his love that he’d kept hidden deep away. It was time.

It was a collision of limbs as Clyde kissed you on the couch, much more salaciously than at the park. He didn’t hold back his groans, his fervent praise as he whispered your name. He nuzzled against your skin, pressing his nose against your neck as he took in a desperate breath. You smelled so good to him, you always smelled good. But now, you were starting to smell like him, and that was even better.

You felt like you were flying, kissing him was like nothing else. His touch was electric, the rough callouses of your fingertips making you keen for more of him. You were completely breathless, “I don’t understand-why? Why does it feel so good? I feel so hot,” You pant.

Even as you tried to pull away Clyde pulled you closer, clinging to you possessively. His hand was clutching the fabric of your dress by your hip, exposing your thigh. You sounded so needy, what he wouldn’t give to put his mouth on your sweet cunt and make you moan for him. His hot breath fanned your cheek, leaning closer to nuzzle you there. With a sigh he pulled away to explain.

“Feels good cause it’s just right sweetheart, s’right that it’s you and me together.” His brown eyes seemed to glow as he spoke. You felt like you were finally coming to your senses. He was still a wolf, a Logan. Much more than just a man.

You shook your head, you couldn’t...what he was implying, it could never work. You couldn’t be with a Logan like that, you were already risking it all just by hiring him. “You know I can’t Clyde.” The distance between you and Clyde grew.

He frowned, not liking the distance. Already his heart was hurting. He didn’t understand, you seemed so happy before, with him. He thought that he had showed you that he was more than your family said he would be, that you wouldn’t let them hold you back. “Why?” His eyes were sad, voice low and quiet.

It made you feel like you just gave the wrong answer, but the pressure of your farm weighed heavy on your heart. Your next words seemed to flow without any thought to them. “Because, if we’re together I lose the farm. It could never work Clyde, if I’m with you I lose not just my farm but my family and I don’t know if I can do that.”

Clyde’s frown deepened, he could see you were hurting but so was he and it didn’t change the fact that you were long. You’d always have a family, maybe not the one you were raised by but he and his siblings would be there for you. “We could start a new farm,” His said desperately. He inched closer to you, taking your hand. He was trying so hard not to lose you.

“With what money?” You fought back, you knew Clyde wasn’t exactly swimming in cash.

“Well Jimmy and I-we can. We can figure somethin’ out farmgirl.” Clyde felt panic rising in his chest. You were right, he didn’t have the money. He just helped Mellie pay for her cosmetology school too, and his savings were pretty much dry.

“You know I can’t ask you to do that Clyde, it would be better if we just kept things professional.” You looked away from him, your voice distant.

Clyde growled, “Professional? I don’t think so sweetheart.” He was being pushier then he normally would be and he knew it, but he didn’t know if he could go back to that after kissing you, after everything you’ve done together. Maybe it was the alpha in him, the fighter determined not to let you go.

You couldn’t even look at him, “Then maybe this won’t work.” You felt guilty, but you know if you tried to have something real with Clyde, something much more serious - at least one of you was going to get hurt.

Oh, he wasn’t having that. “Fuck farmgirl, ya were just moanin’ for me and sayin’ how it ‘feels so good’. Now ya wanna give that all up, for what? A family that doesn’t care about ya, let you love who you wanna love?” His voice was rough, angry, his hand curling around yours tightly.

His words hit a nerve, you felt tears in your eyes. You let out a gasp for air, his hand was gripping yours with such strength it was starting to hurt. You had never seen Clyde upset like this before. It seemed he could be just as stubborn.

There was something else that Clyde knew that you did not. That he was very much in love with you, and while this sort of all consuming passionate love could fade over time, he’d never truly lose that feeling. The urge to keep you held, safe and loved, it was too strong to let you go so easily. To let you hurt him like that without saying anything about it, he knew you were hurting yourself too.

So as he took a deep breath, Clyde gently maneuvered you back into his arms, holding you tight as you began to cry. “Please, I don’t want to get hurt-I don’t want you to get hurt.

He only held you tighter, breathing in your scent to try and calm his rapidly beating heart. “And I won’t let either of those things happen sweetheart,” He reassured you.

But, Clyde wasn’t all that lucky. He was so caught up in you, in the melancholy scent of your fresh tears, the shallow sounds of your breath, he didn’t notice the car pull up. He didn’t hear your father’s heavy boots crunching on gravel, the headlights of his truck as he buried his face in your hair. He didn’t smell the distinct scent of metal and gunpowder, the sour stench of aggression. He missed all of those things, so caught up in you and when your father arrived there was no chance to hide.

“You! What the fuck is a Logan, a fuckin’ werewolf! Doing on my farm?” Your father yelled, making you jump. You tried to get away from Clyde, but with the way that your father was hurling accusations he was on the defense. And as far as he was concerned this was not a safe situation for you to be in. He holds you tighter in his lap, a protective arm over your waist.

“Father please, let me explain. He’s not-don’t talk to him like that,” You squeezed your eyes shut and shake your head.

“Oh so you’re on his side now? Little slut, so easily tricked by sweet words. What did you let him do huh?” Your father turned back to Clyde. “What did you do to my daughter?”

Clyde stood up now, his chest puffed up with aggression and his shoulders tense. He blocked your father from you in a protective stance. “I’ve kept her safe.” I’ve loved her like you couldn’t. He said in his thoughts.

“From what? The only danger around here is you Clyde, and you’ve just shown me that my daughter can’t handle running this farm. Not if she resorts to colluding with your disgusting kind.”

You cringed at your father’s words. He had no idea how wrong he was. “I have been handling things just fine, Clyde has helped a great deal around here. He’s a natural.”

Clyde looked back at you and smiled softly, your defense of him made his heart feel warm. You still cared for him, despite your fight earlier. He was happy to hear you stand up for yourself. You got up from the couch to stand next to him, crossing your arms.

Your father huffed in frustration, “If your mother heard you talking like that-about that monster…” He whistled lowly. “You should take that back daughter. Before I take back what we gave you.” He threatened.

“But you’re wrong! He’s not a monster.” You were yelling now too, Clyde’s hand comforting you as he squeezed your shoulder. He felt the hair on the back of his neck tingle as your father threatened you, a growl in his chest.

Your father just laughed, to him you were still just a little girl. Too foolish to see what a huge mistake you were making. Guess it was time for him to teach you a lesson. Pulling out a gun he turned off the safety, pointed it at the beast that stood before him, “Now, honey-if your Logan friend doesn’t leave the property in the next five minutes I start shooting.”

Clyde’s eyes widened, your father was serious. And he could smell silver too, one bullet and it’d be the end. But, maybe he could disarm him. He was pretty strong, he wouldn’t have enough time to transform and something like that could make your father pull the trigger. No, it wouldn’t be worth the risk. He needed to get you out of here safely, above all.

Your father didn’t miss the way that Clyde looked at you, “If ya take my daughter with you I’ll shoot both of ya in the back.”

“Clyde, please go,” You cried. You couldn’t have him getting killed on your behalf.

He looked back at you, lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Don’t worry Clyde, I won’t hurt your precious mate.” Your father taunted him. Clyde clenched his jaw, his hand fisting at his side as he stared down at the floor. If he stayed, he’d die. If you left with him, you’d both die. If he tried to pull something, he knew your father would pull the trigger. He couldn’t bare for you to get hurt, there had to be some other way to get you out of this place. But he couldn’t do it on his own.

You were unfamiliar with your father’s choice of words, but you had a feeling he was talking about you. Still, why was he just standing there? “You have to go!” Your voice was desperate.

Clyde gave you one last look before he left, a reassuring smile with sad eyes. He’d come back for you. You’d have to know that, he’d be back.

TAGLIST: @thecurlycaptain, @oh-adam, @givemelifeorgiveme,@pastelprintessa, @yuuyamiartist, @magikevalynn, @formerly-anonhamster

#clyde logan x reader #crack up #werewolf!clyde #werewolf au #clyde logan #filth

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salty-donut-collecter · 4 years

Text

Before Us Stand The Stars

Prompt here~ Gahhhh I’ve been wanting to write more fanfiction

Trigger warnings: Sneaking out, talk of controlling parents, mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions of jail, stress about college, abuse/ mentions of CPS, kissing, I allude to smexual things

Please don’t be afraid to ask if I need to tag anything else >.<

Word Count: 4,981 holy hecck

Couple of notes: 1) Yes I did give Virgil the last name Strengthson. I hate it just as much as you do xD 2) I am horrible at writing feelings, and I am very very bad at writing fluff which is why I’m trying to branch out with characters I’m familiar with. Feel free to tell me how I did! 3) Logan is p r e t t y out of character I’m ngl. I know, but I tried to make him as human as I could. This also takes place after some possible development through a possible storyline. 4) I am finishing this at 2:08 am and I am very bad at reading so please tell me if I need to tag anything else ;_; thank you :D 5)Also I refer to Janus and Remus as Logan’s datemates, and I hope that’s not an enby or ace exclusive term and I hope I’m not being offensive, I just like the way it sound I’m ngl. Feel free to tell me if I should change it, though !

Sneaking out was not something Logan would have done at the beginning of the school year. The first time he’d done so, he was terrified-- so sure that it wouldn’t work, that he almost caused his own demise.

However, now it was something he did almost every weekend. Oh, how people can change you. The way adrenaline slips into your mind like a drug... It was surely addictive. However, he didn’t care much now.

He was silent as he practically scaled his house. It was easy. He knew Janus was down the street in a vehicle, waiting patiently for him. They’d done this so many times before, he, Janus and Remus. It was a wonder he got away with it at all, with parents like his. They practically never let Logan out of their sight. No wonder he hadn’t felt anything real in his life before Freshman year. They’d controlled everything down to his emotions.

It was “all for Logan’s benefit”, of course. Thanks to them he’d never have to worry about getting into college, or getting a job anywhere.

As if that made up for anything.

Once his feet hit the ground, Logan was running. The sprinkler system turned on in two minutes, and if Logan wasn’t at least in the street by then... needless to say, he’d be drenched.

So, sprint he did. He could feel it again-- that familiar adrenaline that he craved most every day. The feeling of living. It was a tingling feeling this time. Other times, it wasn’t. It was instead a steady seeping; a wild calm that he couldn’t fully describe.

The tingling was probably because he didn’t breathe a lot when he ran. He didn’t mind, though. Anything was better than staying in that stupid house for another minute-- that bastardised place.

Much to Logan’s surprise, he actually made it to the street before the sprinklers turned on. He could see Remus’s truck down the way. How Remus managed to sneak out every night with that thing was beyond Logan, but he learned to accept it.

When he got to Remus’s truck, he was greeted with familiar faces and a... warmth, that Logan always found he was missing without them.

“Get in loser, we’re going stargazing!” Remus shouted from inside the car. Logan saw Janus wince from behind the wheel.

Shaking his head fondly, Logan tapped on Remus’s door. The latter opened his window slowly, pretending he didn’t see Logan as he looked around outside for the source of the knock. When his eyes landed on Logan, they went wide, his crazed smile growing into a more relaxed smile-- one he practically had saved just for Logan.

“Oh, hey nerd. Ya need something?” He asked. The entire scene earned a chuckle from Logan.

“Tonight, would you be opposed to me riding in the trunk?” Logan asked, “I’ve been meaning to ask for a while and I understand if--”

“Of course you can!” Remus’s smile grew, “Janie, is that alright with you?”

Janus looked up from his phone, clearly not having heard anything either of them had said. He looked to Remus, who, for a moment just grinned.

“He wants to ride in the trunk.” He finally said.

The expression on Janus’s face was one that Logan didn’t actually recognise. Remus, however, did. His smile grew as he turned back to Logan.

“If you take my jacket, you can.” he winked.

So there Logan was, barbecue sauce on his titties--

I mean, there he was... sitting in the back with Remus’s leather jacket. Ahem. Logan had never sat in a moving truck trunk. It was something he was honestly excited about.

So when the truck started moving, he tensed, expecting to fly out of the back like a ragdoll despite that being completely illogical and entirely nonsensical. Now, that didn’t stop the feeling of instability, but it did create a new and exciting knot in the pit of his stomach. He was technically breaking two laws a the very least.

Their destination was at least 20 minutes out of town, and if Logan was being honest, it was one of the funnest car rides he’d ever been on. It was perfect, really. The cold, midsummers night air blowing through his hair, the view, the cool smell of the night air blending with the green of the trees. It was something to remember, really. Even if the cold was sinking into his bones, it was the type of chill that sent pleasant shivers through your spine. The kind that you get when you eat something amazing for the first time, or when you feel something cool during a hot day.

Logan hadn’t told the others, but today had actually been very stressful. He didn’t know if they could tell, but the stress had been piling up for a while. College would be starting soon, and he was expected to get into an Ivy League school, when in reality, he was debating whether or not he wanted to go to college yet or not. His parents expected him to become a doctor or scientist. He didn’t want that at all-- or anything even remotely close to it.

He wanted to teach, he was finding. He’d actually been tutoring Remus for a while now, as well as his brother, and their friend, Patton. It was something he enjoyed doing very much-- a puzzle he loved solving with them. He also taught Virgil how to study more efficiently-- something that had given them both a big confidence boost in their academics.

He also loved astronomy and astrology. Seeing the stars in person was something Logan had secretly wanted to do his entire life. To actually see a nebula in person, or to be among the nebulae? Logan felt his lungs grow tight with exasperating excitement just thinking about it.

At the thought of nebulae, Logan looked to the sky. He didn’t actually know where Janus and Remus were taking him. He knew they were to be stargazing, but they said there would be something special about it tonight. He’d checked dates for anything big happening in the sky tonight, and he found nothing. So what could it be, he wondered.

His wondering came to a halt when the car did. They were stopped in a very... peculiar spot. Also known as the ditch. The ditch of an old, abandoned highway.

Remus got out first, ginormous backpack on with a flashlight in hand. He offered a free hand to Logan, who took it. “Acushla, you should probably put a lot of bug spray on.” Remus grinned that softer grin, and Logan agreed.

The bug spray was completely unopened, and Logan had no doubt in his mind that Remus had stolen it from Walmart. Things were cheap there, but Walmart was cheap, so he couldn’t care less, really. Applying it didn’t smell nice, either, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. If it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with bug bites on top of his eczema, then he would be happy to apply a generous amount.

“C’mon, LoLo Lugbug! Let us adventure-- INtO thE UnKnOwNNN~” Remus pulled Logan along, screeching the chorus of Frozen 2′s most popular song. Of course it was the most popular. Idina Menzel wasn’t anything aside from perfection in her singing the entire time. Of course, Logan would ever admit that he liked the song, but that was just because he knew it was just fuel to Remus and Roman’s relentless teasing.

Janus was... uncharacteristically quiet during this time, Logan had begun to notice. Normally, he wasn’t a very talkative person, but he’d seemed especially quiet tonight. Perhaps he was tired? The more Logan wondered, the less he paid attention to where he wandered. This lead to multiple complications.

For one, he stepped in a very large, and rather obvious mud puddle that, no doubt, would endlessly stain his pants. It was almost worthy of many, many tears-- the thought of having to both throw away his favorite jeans and come up with an excuse as to why he did not have them anymore. However, hearing Janus and Remus’s laughter reminded him where he was, and why he was here.

Ultimately, it made staining his pants more bearable. Besides, he might be able to save them. Or, at least, Janus might. Logan’s “extensive” knowledge in the laundry department was actually basic at best. Tide. Button. Clothes. Wash. Repeat. That was about it, really. He only knew how to iron the collars of his polos, and his occasional tie. Outside of those basic things, there was nothing he could do, really.

It seemed as though Janus had been reading Logan’s mind though, because as the former chuckled, he reached out and offered Logan a hand. Once Logan took it, he saw Janus wink.

“We can swap pants before you go home, and I can have them clean in a couple days, love. How does that sound, hm?” He chuckled once more at the completely smitten look that overcame Logan’s face, albeit without the man’s knowledge.

“Thank you. Although, you do not have--”

Janus hushed him placing a finger softly over the nerd’s lips. Logan noting the warmth contrasting the cold, and the way Janus’s ungloved finger brushed his nose ever so gently. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Laundry is nothing for me to cry or whine about, especially when I get to do some for such a wonderfully handsome fellow.”

Logan just nodded, unable to come up with a better response-- something he’d been trying to be okay with more and more often. Before he’d met Janus, behavior like this would have practically been forbidden, and he would have surely responded with something among the lines of ‘yes sir’ had this conversation taken place a few months ago. However, he’d been trying to outgrow those unneeded responses, and it seems he’d been doing well, based off how many times Remus and Janus had’t scolded him for saying such things. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time they had.

The second incident was not nearly as saddening for Logan. Instead, it was more or less concerning for Janus and Remus.

See, neither Janus, nor Remus, had been having particularly ‘good’ weeks. Of course, incident wise, they were doing splendidly. However, looking back, they would much rather have had more frequent, less consequential incidents, than the few more consequential incidents.

Remus hadn’t liked spending a night in jail, only for Roman and Janus to pool together enough money to get him out. Sure, he’d been in jail before for a number of different things. Never for getting into a fight, though. He’d never stuck around long enough to meet the cops before. Thankfully, to everyone else it was deemed an ‘isolated incident’. Even if it was far from true, Remus was surprisingly happy to hear that there wouldn’t be charges pressed, and that there wouldn’t be a court case. God knows he couldn’t afford one of those. And of course his bullshit parents wouldn’t pay for it either. He wasn’t Roman. He didn’t get that kind of treatment from them.

Janus hadn’t liked his father smashing three bottles over his head intermittently. He didn’t care for the screaming, the please from his dad, the ultimately useless sobs. He didn’t like the CPS letter that was proudly displayed on the fridge that had come from the state, telling his entire family that his father was there to stay, and permanently. He didn’t like that there was no in between and no constant in this stupid household, nor did he like spending half of his college fund on Remus’s bail-- even if he would have spent all of it to get him out of there any day Remus asked.

Neither of them liked the sit down their teachers had had with them, telling them that they would be separated in class until their grades got higher. They especially hated the way only one teacher listened when they said that separating them would only hinder them.

Needless to say, everyone needed this night. Everyone was tired, and no one wanted to say it.

That being said, Remus and Janus had no idea of Logan’s stress, and Logan only knew a fraction of their lives outside of school. Let alone anything that had happened that week. It was... a mess at the very least.

So when Logan spaced out and walked right into a huge puddle... needles to say Janus and Remus were confused. Also concerned. Very concerned.

“So Logan..” Remus has said, “any thoughts on where we’re going? I know it’s a surprise but~~” He turned, smiling, until he wasn’t anymore. Logan looked... lost, really. Whether he was lost in thought or in general, Remus really couldn’t tell.

“Uhm, Logan?” Remus stopped walking. “You good over there? You look kinda pale~ And that’s coming from someone who knows Virgil Strengthson.” No response. Logan didn’t even look at Remus as he passed him. It didn’t look like he was really looking at anything, actually. It was as if he could see just fine, but none of it was reaching hs brain, so he was just left looking, wildly. Blindly.

“Logan?” Janus piped up, stopping as well. “Logan, are you mad at us or something?”

No reply. Their concern grew. Repeat.

That was, until Remus just yelled. “LOGIE YOU ASHOLEEE~~~ ANSWER US~~” Then, of course, Logan was snapped from whatever trance he’d found himself in, apparently not having heard literally anything they’d said previously.

“Apologies, what were we talking about?”

Well, they really had no way to answer that, huh?

“Dude, we’ve literally been trying to get your attention for forever. You good?”

Logan seemed to pale at that. Of course, he was doing objectively fine. However, on the terms of his stress he may not be able to truthfully say the same. He also happened to be very bad at lying to these individuals when it came down to it. Still, if he told the objective truth, he should do just fine.

“Yes, apologies. I was just, ahm, figuratively lost in my thoughts.” Logan offered the most reassuring smile he could, knowing they would see right through it.

They did, of course, see right through it. However they both figured it was something they could bring back later and talk about at a better time. Trying to talk about it before they got to their destination seemed like a poor choice anyway.

And so they moved on. It was quiet, but it was comfortable. Remus was quick to fill that silence, though, by talking about his newfound fascination with thick lemon toast.

At least, until they got to the clearing.

Logan had just begun to worry about how long they’d been in the woods. They did have to find their way back to Remus’s truck, after all.

Plus, they’d had no real concept of the time it’d taken so far to hike through the woods, but all the concern surrounding the situation had immediately fallen out of Logan’s interest.

Never before had Logan see so much and so little in front of him before. Sure, he’d seen pictures of fields, but he had never been to one. Never before had he stood before one of this size, either. It had to be, what, two football fields?

“Is this where you’re taking me?” Logan asked, trying to mask his delightedly breathless tone.

“It is, actually!” Remus grinned wickedly, grabbing Janus and Logan my their hands as he pulled them, racing towards the middle of the field as fast as he could.

Logan did his best to hold onto his glasses, while Janus did his best to hang on to his hat. Neither were good at running, but Logan was especially bad at it. He could keep up, but his lungs wouldn’t like it. They already didn’t have enough air as it was, being amazed and all. Not to mention the fact that he’d already done his running for the night.

Time passed by quickly, though, and soon he and Janus were hunched over, breathless, as Remus started laying a large quilt out for the three of them.

As soon as it was out, Janus collapsed on to it, weakly pulling out his emergency inhaler. Logan didn’t know Janus used an inhaler. Did Remus? Surely he wouldn’t have forced Janus to sprint that far if he had. Logan knew Remus, and while he was... eccentric, at times, he knew Remus to be no monster.

Still, Logan wondered. Remus and Janus were close enough. Perhaps it just slipped his mind? Logan let the thought slip his own mind as he too, layed down comfortably on the quilt.

“Coffee?” Remus asked, holding a rather large thermos. Logan groaned, nodding vigorously.

“And I’ve got Coffee for Janie.” he giggled as Janus gave him a small little thumbs up. “Sorry for the running, by the way. I forgot that y’all can’t really do much of that.”

Logan frowned from where he was on the ground, in pain. “I can run just fine, thank you very much. It just happens to hate me almost as much as I despise it.”

This earned a giggle from his datemates.

It was then when Remus decided to also lay down, wrapping his arms around Janus and Logan, and forcing them close so they could all snuggle.

Moments like these were the ones Logan believed he enjoyed the most. They were the little things, of course, but they were the things that really brought them together, he thought. The feeling of warmth, the almost rushed breathing, and the familiarity of it all every time after. It was laying there, in each others company, not in a rush to say or do anything. And it was beautiful, in Logan’s mind.

He was sure the others would agree. He went to ask them, actually, but that was when he opened his eyes, adn saw they sky.

“What--” Logan choked a hand flying up to his mouth as he struggled to find his breath, and his words.

His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and never before, had he seen so much night sky before. Not in person, anyways. Sure, you could look in awe at pictures off the internet, but it was never as real as going and seeing it yourself. It was nothing like this.

Faintly, every so faintly, Logan could see the different nebulae, sprinkled across the vast sky before him. He could see the universe, and how so much of it existed-- right here, in front of him!

Growing up in a city, for Logan, meant he couldn’t see things like this. He had never, in fact, seen this many stars before in his life. Always had he been told about them--been told he could be among them someday, but he’d never thought it’d really happen. Light pollution was everywhere and...

“The milky way is beautiful.” Logan whispered.

Remus hugged Logan tighter, as if trying to pull him closer if he could.

“We thought you might like it.” Janus spoke up, taking Logan’s hand in his own. It wasn’t too often Logan saw Janus without his gloves. The heat from Janus’s hands brought with it a comfort Logan hadn’t even known he needed.

“Stumbled upon this place a few weeks ago while trying to find a place to have a quick fuck.” Remus chuckled when Logan squirmed ever so slightly, smiling that softer, mushier smile that he saved just for these two. “And we totally made a promise to bring you here ASAP.” He remarked, softer this time.

“So what do you think, hm? Did we do a good job?” Janus spoke up, laying his head on Remus’s chest so he could see Logan too.

In all honesty, Logan could only say yes. Only, he couldn’t. His throat felt sore, and he could tell he was going to cry, It’s just-- he felt. It wasn’t something he’d feel often, but he knew it, that familiar swell in his chest. It sent small tingles down his spine, and forced open the floodgates that kept his emotions at bay.

Or, in short, Logan was malfunctioning. Short circuiting, if you will.

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” He smiled, widley, the way he always did with these two, “thank you.” Was what he decided on. he hugged Remus and Janus close in his moment of emotional vulnerability. He wasn’t Patton. He refused to believe that such trivial things would cause him to cry.

Then again, being as love-starved as Logan had been... you couldn’t say it was surprising.

Eventually, things died back down, and became a lot more casual. It was less like a professional ‘date’, and more like any other time they’d decided to spend time together. Logan went on about astronomy and astrology, infodumping and and all knowledge he had on the topic of space, and the others listened. Remus would add some things here and there, but he was quiet over all. They wanted to take everything Logan said, and absorb it. They wanted to have real conversations with him about his interests-- Remus especially. Logan always contributed to his aquatic infodumps, so it was the least Remus could do.

Besides, there was always this.. life to Logan when he talked about space, and the stars especially. The way his eyes would light up-- as if he’d been told he could live among the stars themselves. His hands would gesture wildly, adding to the conversation where it would. Whether it be by pointing out constellations, or just waving around in general, his hands were always just as excited as he was, instead of lying lifelessly at his sides the way they normally would.

There was a smile, too. A special smile that always came with Logan’s fascinations. Some would say that’s why his eyes would light up so. Janus saw it differently, though. He’d known Logan before Logan even knew himself, and he knew how differently his eyes and mouth told stories.

To put it simply, when Logan talked about the stars in their own universe, the corners of Logan’s lips were never downturned. It was a smile he couldn’t hide if he tried-- one that wouldn’t disappear even if he made an error, or forgot where he was going because he was so excited. It was a different side of Logan, truly. Remus and Janus felt privileged to see it.

But eventually, Logan was sure Janus and Remus were no longer interested in his ramblings. He’d eeb over the majority of his knowledge, and in all honesty, we just wanted to see. So he laid down, and stargazed.

However, it grew too quiet for his excitement, and for a moment he wondered if this was how Remus felt all the time. Nevertheless, Logan tried to think of something to say.

“What’s your most precious memory?” He finally asked, much more hushed than he’d intended. How could he be louder, though, when there’s so much to be humbled by before him?

There was a pause, and Logan wondered if either of his datemates had heard him. When he opened his mouth to repeat the question, though, Remus answered.

“…..Honestly? That time when we sat in that shitty little car park late at night, eating those disgusting chips from the petrol station with the broken sign.” There was that smile again, worn by Remus, who was secretly just as much of a romantic as his brother. Even though he would swear to hell and back that he was definitely not, they all knew he definitely was and that he could never honestly deny such a thing.

““…..Seriously?” Janus huffed out a small laugh.

“Why?” Logan followed up.

There was a pause, and Remus’s smile faded, just ever so slightly. “Because that was the first time I ever saw you smile for real.” He lightly shrugged, “It was something I didn’t know I’d ever get to see, Nerdy Wolverine. You like to keep things all boxed up over there, even with the people who genuinely give a shit about you.”

Logan squeezed Remus a little tighter. “That’s... fair.” He finally said. “And very sweet of you.” He teased, just a little. Just a tidge. A lil smidgen. A tiny pinch.

There was another break of silence, before Janus spoke up. “I think tonight may be my most precious memory. For a long time, at the very least.” He smiled, sighing contently, “It really is a beautiful night tonight.”

Logan had just recently started dating Remus and Janus. Since establishing their relationship, they had talked through boundaries and interests. What he was thinking about now, though, was how he had yet to even as much as kiss either of them.

Needless to say, he wanted to change that.

“If I may,” Logan sat up, and was relieved when Remus and Janus sat up as well, hanging on his every word, as per usual. “I would like to kiss you.” He bit his lip, extremely nervous, “Both of you.” He quickly clarified, realizing he’d just been staring awkwardly at Remus.

Janus smiled at that, gesturing for Logan to come closer.

“So are we not going to talk about the fact that he could totally mean he wasn't to try kissing us both at the same time or--” Remus broke off into a fit of giggles when his mouth was covered by Janus’s hand.

Logan blushed furiously, holding onto all hope that Janus couldn’t tell. Of course, Janus could absolutely tell, but he didn’t mind. Blushy Logan was adorable, and very kissable.

“I-- Uhm, I have to admit,” Logan started, his breathing picking up as he and Janus got closer, “I haven’t done this before.”

“No shit, LoLo.” Remus giggled.

“That’s okay, Logan. I’ve got you, okay?” Janus offered a warm smile that gave Logan all the confidence he needed to close that extra distance.

The first thing Logan noticed was the warmth, then the closeness, the breath, and the taste. It was different, that was for sure. He wondered if kissing Remus would be any different, and how.

He tried to copied what Janus was doing, and caught on to the pattern quickly enough, and that was that, They were kissing. Nevermind the growing warmth both in Logan’s chest and stomach, he actually kissed someone. He’d never thought he’d want to do that, if he was being honest. Yet here he was, kind of enjoying himself.

Then alas, breathing became a problem. Logan and Janus pulled apart, and Logan’s blushing problem had definitely not gotten better. Thankfully, Janus was almost matching, in a way. You could never really see Janus’s blush, but ever time Logan had, he’d appreciate the opportunity. That was no acception now.

“I’m ngl that was extremely hot.” Remus looked between Janus and Logan, giggling when Janus flicked him off. “Now iTs mYyYy TuRnNN tHouGh!” He exclaimed happily, throwing his arms up excitedly, “Unless you’re putting the stop to this kissing business right now. Puttin the big ole’ foot down. Just tell me so.” Remus waited for Logan to respond as patiently as Remus could wait for one of the loves of his life, which could be a surprising amount of time.

“No no, I still give you my willing-- uhm, enthusiastic consent.” Logan cleared his throat, “ I am just-- not very good at started these sort of endev--”

That was all Remus needed in order to pull Logan close, “One last check?” he pecked Logan on the nose, and the latter nodded.

That was when Remus’s lips met his. Just like Remus, the kiss was distinctly different. Definitely not the same style Janus had. Not to mention how downright filthy the kiss became once Logan had picked up his style. It was new, all of it, but it was something Logan enjoyed-- something he could finally share with them.

Again, though, the need for air would arise. When Remus and Logan pulled away, Logan smiled, chuckling as he readjusted his glasses. The feeling in his chest had grown, and he now realized what the feeling had been all along.

Love.

“That was...” Logan just chuckled again, “Adequate. A lot nicer than I expected, if I’m being honest.”

Remus mocked offense. “Gasp. Did you think I was going to be a bad kisser?” He dramatically threw his hand to his forehead, “Oh, how horrible you must feel being so freaking wrong, I could never.”

Janus couldn’t help but laugh as Remus obviously mocked his brother. He was so accurate... it was almost sad. Funny, but sad.

“I actually am referring to how I was beginning to think I was asexual.” Logan stated, choosing to look at the ground instead of Remus or Janus. “However, it is not something I believe I have my answer for now.” He smiled to himself as he fiddled lightly with a loose string from the quilt.

“Logan is this you telling us that you’re horny right now?” Remus cackled, delighted when Janus and Logan both joined in on the laughter.

“That is one way you could put it, yes.” He forced out, “But I don’t want to take things any farther tonight, I don’t think.” he winked at Remus, who just about died on the spot.

And the night went on. They talked, probably kissed, maybe did more, did nothing, and talked about everything until the coffee and tea were gone, and Remus’s 4:30 am alarm went off.

“Happy Monday!” He announced, earning a laugh from a deliriously sleep deprived Logan.

Then, they went back to the truck. They laughed, joked, and talked about all the stupid shit teenagers talk about. And for a moment, for that night of their lives, the stress melted away. They forgot about all the strifes of life, and they just let themselves be.

They were happy, if only for a night. A night, that would stay with them for a long, long time.

End.

#logan sanders #ss #omfggg I am so bad at writing fluff I am so sorryyy #ts remus #remus sanders #introloceit #oneshot #sander sides oneshot #sander sides #ts janus #ts deceit #some angst #mostly fluff tho #aejwrites #My writing #not my characters

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thegreatwhiteferret · 6 years

Text

I Won’t Hesitate No More, I’m Yours

Summary: Bill wants to keep his relationship with Richie a secret from the other Losers. Richie just wants to jump Bill's bones, but he settles for being a sweet boyfriend instead.

A/N: For my Anon who requested Bichie being in a secret relationship, and Richie being a sweet doting boyfriend to show Bill he cares, and Richie smut. Lots of Richie smut. I am sorry that it is late, but I hope you love it!

Obviously NSFW, so it’s under the cut. 💖💖💖

Richie was jumping out of his skin. He had officially had Bill all to himself for three weeks and he couldn’t tell anyone. Bill fucking Denbrough. The stud among mere mortals. Baseball star and all around average everyday superhero. He had also been Richie’s best friend since they were in Kindergarten, and Richie had had a crush on him for almost as long. They were now seniors in high school and Bill was all his.

Obviously Richie absolutely adores Bill, which makes restraining himself around the others an absolute fucking nightmare. He understands why Bill is apprehensive about telling them. Richie has known that he’s gay since he was in elementary school. He thought George Michael was pretty when all of the other boys were fawning over Madonna. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Bill was different. He was straight laced, had dated Beverly for a while and then had a few other sweet girlfriends, emphasis on the girl. Richie had been shocked when Bill had hauled him up in his arms and kissed him for the first time, so he can only imagine how the other Losers would react when they found out that not only was Bill not straight, but that he had a thing for none other than Richie Tozier.

He understands. He really does. That doesn’t stop him from wanting to hold Bill’s hand in the hallway. Or wrap his arms around him at random times, or kiss him in public. He really just wants any form of physical affection. He craves it.

Richie knows that he has to be patient. That Bill will come around to coming out. He can handle the waiting for physical affection in public, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be a super sweet and caring boyfriend in other ways.

The Losers usually attend Bill and Stan’s baseball games as a group. They do the same with Mike’s football games in the fall. They are a family and support each other as much as possible. It’s not unusual to find Richie sitting on the metal bleachers while the Varsity Derry Baseball team is playing. It is however unusual that rather than making lewd jokes and chain smoking with Bev, Richie is one hundred percent focused on the game in front of him. He cheers unironically, even though he has to ask Mike about the proper terminology and to explain what some of the calls on the field mean, because that guy’s foot was totally on the base first, how can he be out? He cheers for Stan when he throws a good pitch, and complements Bill on his powerful throwdowns to second base. He also really loves seeing his boyfriend’s ass when he’s squating down in his catcher’s position. Richie damn near loses his mind when Bill hits a grand slam and cements Derry’s win over West Lake. Ben and Mike cheer along with him, but Bev and Eddie think that there is seriously something wrong going on.

“Rich, are you feeling alright?” Bev asks, pulling him aside while the other Losers walk down to the dugout to wait for Stan and Bill.

“Yeah, Bev. I’m fine. Just feeling in touch with my school spirit and the good old American pastime today.” Richie gives her a big goofy smile, and she playfully punches him in the arm. They rough house as they walk over to meet the others, laughing the whole way.

“W-what’s so f-funny?” Bill asks, a wide smile etched on his face, positively glowing from the victory.

“Nothing much, just telling this one that I think I have come around to liking baseball.” Richie winks at Bev who dramatically rolls her eyes. “Hey, congratulations though Big Bill, and Stan the Man of course. You were on fire out there.” He is thankful that he threw Stan in there instead of all of his focus being on Bill. He’s got to keep his cover.

“Y-you like b-baseball? As m-more than a t-time to goof o-off with B-bev?” Bill raises his eyebrows in question, wondering what his boyfriend was up to. Richie slowly nods, sweet smile on his face. Bill is shook. “M-maybe we c-could go to the b-batting cages l-later? You c-could show m-me your s-swing.”

“That could be fun. I’d like to mess around with some balls.” He deadpans, and Bill almost chokes on his saliva.

“Okay, what the fuck is this? Invasion of the Body Snatchers?!?” Eddie squawks. He snaps his fingers in front of Richie’s face. “Richie? Richie, is that you in there? Blink twice if your brain is being held captive by some alien race.” It’s Richie’s turn to roll his eyes, and they head to Mike’s truck. Bill and Richie sit in the bed, and Bill lets him rest his head on his shoulder as they ride to the diner for shakes and burgers.

He counts it as a win, and later on Bill drags him back to the batting cages and they make out for a long time. Richie’s legs wrapped around Bill’s waist and back pressed into the metal fencing. Richie leaves with messy hair, kiss swollen lips, and a few seriously impressive hickies on his neck. Bill looks just as disheveled and that’s a win too.

At lunch the next day he makes sure to save the seat next to him for Bill. It irritates Eddie who usually sits there, but Richie claims it’s so Bill can proofread his essay for English while he checks over Bill’s Trigonometry homework. Eddie finally relents, and Bill smiles when he sees that the seat is open for him. They help each other with their work and bump their elbows together, loving the contact, even if it’s small. Bill splits his giant chocolate chip cookie with Richie too, which definitely means that this is love.

Richie is incredibly advanced and intelligent when it comes to both science and mathematics. He loves the concrete formulas that aren’t subjective. Bill does not love these subjects as much, he excels in the humanities courses. Richie checks over his homework and corrects it for him when he needs Bill’s help with an English assignment, but Bill thinks that he needs some actual tutorials. He mentions this when they are all working on homework in the library one day.

“I can help!” Richie volunteers immediately, drawing more eyebrow raises. He’s not known for volunteering to assist with other people’s problems very frequently. “What? I like math. It makes sense.” He says shaking his head.

“I would really appreciate that, Rich. I can help you with something for your Lit class in return if you’d like.” Bill offers.

“I think I’m squared away with that right now. Mrs. Jenson has finally given up on the Shakespeare crap and come to the more contemporary side. I’m sure we can figure something else out that I need help with, but I’m genuinely good with just tutoring you.” Richie is flipping through his physics notes so he doesn’t see the looks from the other Losers, Bill shrugs his shoulders in response to them, acting like he doesn’t know the motivation behind Richie’s offer. He just figures that Richie is being nice, they’re all a family he would do it for any one of them.

Richie ends up staying the night at the Denbrough house, because it is so late when he has finally managed to drill Soh Cah Toa into his boyfriend’s brain. Richie is flopped with his face in one of Bill’s pillows when the other boy comes back from getting ready for bed in the bathroom. He smells like minty toothpaste and face wash and clean laundry, and Richie flips over so he can look at Bill when he comes over to the bed.

“D-do you w-want to borrow a s-shirt and p-paj-pajama pants?” He asks already pulling a shirt out of his dresser.

“Just the shirt, Billy. I can sleep in my boxers if that’s okay. I don’t want to add to your laundry.” Bill nods, throwing the shirt to him and sliding into bed. Richie doesn’t bother going to the bathroom to change. He unbuckles his belt and jeans and slides them off of his legs. His boxers are black and red plaid like a lumberjack, and he loves them. He slides his flannel off and then his t-shirt. He can feel Bill’s eyes raking over his body from where he’s lying behind him. “Like what you see, Denbrough?” He asks, and turns to wink before sliding Bill’s way too big t-shirt over his head. Bill blushes.

“S-so. I think I k-know how I c-could make it u-up to you. It d-did take y-you a long t-time to help m-me.” Richie cocks an eyebrow at him, he was serious when he said that it wasn’t a problem at all.

“Bill. I don’t need you to make it up to me. I got to spend time working on my favorite subject with my favorite person. I’m good. It was no trouble.” Richie shrugs, but Bill looks pensive, like he’s trying to put words together.

“C-can...can I b-blow y-you?” Bill looks up at him through his eyelashes and Richie could have busted a nut right then and there.

“Whaaaat? Bill are you serious? We’ve never done that before, you’ve definitely never done that before period. You really don’t have to.” He rambles, but Bill is already pulling the covers off of Richie’s hips and working his boxers down. Richie is already getting hard, he strokes himself a few times to get his dick the rest of the way there, Bill watches the whole time. “I’m serious Bill, you really don’t have to.”

“I w-want to t-try.” Richie nods and props his head up as Bill leans forward. The first swipe of his tongue is tentative. Careful. He brings his hand up and begins jerking Richie off a bit, they’ve done this before a few times. They usually stick to making out, but Bill gets handsy when he’s had a bit to drink, and Richie just really likes making the taller boy cum..

Bill slides the head of Richie’s dick in his mouth, tonguing the underside a little, and then slides his mouth down Richie’s length. He can’t take him in all the way, but the wet heat of Bill’s mouth and the twisting pleasure of his hand jerking what he can’t take has Richie spiraling. He bites his fist so that he doesn’t moan out too loud, and let’s the pleasure take over his body. It might be Bill’s first time giving a blow job, but it is breathtakingly amazing. Richie can feel his orgasm building and he taps Bill on the shoulder.

“B-Bill. I’m gonna cum, you need to pull off.” He moans, but Bill stubbornly keeps him in his mouth. He can’t hold on any longer and then he’s cumming into the heat of Bill’s mouth. Bill sputters, choking on the abundance of jizz, and Richie feels awful. “Oh my God, Bill are you okay? I should have insisted that I pulled out.”

“I-it’s o-okay.” Bill coughs out, “It w-was just a-alot.” Richie blushes. And ducks his head down a bit. “W-was it okay f-for you?” Bill asks sheepishly.

“Fucking. Amazing. You’re a Goddamn natural, Denbrough.” He pecks Bill on the cheek. “Did you want me to return the favor?” Bill nods frantically, and Richie gets to work.

Pizza is one of Richie’s most favorite things in the entire world. Particularly pepperoni pizza. He could definitely eat a whole pie by himself. The Losers usually cut him off at four slices until everyone else is done eating. They’re all in Ben’s basement watching a movie on VHS, lounging around and eating pizza. Bill’s mom calls, and he has to run upstairs to make sure that it’s not anything important before he gets to have a single bite of pizza. Richie notices that there is only one piece of pepperoni left, he brings the box with him over to where he and Bill were sitting but doesn’t open the box. This time it’s Ben that questions him.

“Are you planning on eating that Richie, or are you just going to stare at it?” He asks, taking a bite out of a piece of cheese.

“Oh. No. It’s not for me. Bill’s favorite is pepperoni and there’s only one piece left. I figured that I would save it for him since he hasn’t gotten any.” Richie shrugged, distracted by the images on the screen.

“You’re saving a piece of you favorite food for Bill?” Mike asks slowly. It’s another very uncharacteristic thing for Richie to do.

“Yup.” He pops the ‘p’. Bill comes back down a few minutes later looking flushed. He slides two pieces of plain cheese on his plate before sitting down next to Richie.

“W-what’s this?” He asks, motioning to the pizza box next to Richie. Richie snaps out of his daze to answer.

“There was only one piece of pepperoni pizza left and I know how much you love it so I saved it for you.” By the look on Bill’s face you would have thought that Richie had just handed him the most precious thing in the world.

“Y-you save m-me the last p-piece?” Richie nods in response, why is everyone making such a big deal out of this. “Y-you are s-something else, R-Rich.” Bill smirks, and Richie feels warm and fuzzy about it inside. They don’t talk about it for the rest of the night.

Something is going on with Richie, Bill knows that the others are picking up on it too, he’s being so sweet. Bill’s never seen this side to Richie. He’s being more helpful to everyone, he’s more pleasant to be around, it’s been a big change since they...well since they started dating in secret. Bill knows that it has something to do with it, but decides that he needs to ask Richie to be sure.

They’re over at Richie’s house, his parents aren’t home, they’re never home but this time it’s been longer since the last time they were. Richie didn’t want to be in the house alone so he asked Bill to come over, Bill happily agreed hoping to get to talk some things out with the other boy. They’re sitting on Richie’s bed listening to music when Bill can’t take it anymore.

“H-hey Rich?” His boyfriend looks up from his notebook and waits for Bill to continue. “W-why have y-you been b-being so….s-sweet?”

“What do you mean, Bill. I’m not being sweet. Why are you and the others acting so weird. I can be considerate.” Bill raises his eyebrow, a universal sign to cut the bullshit. “Fiiiiiiiiiiiine, I guess i just like doing things for you. I can’t exactly jump your bones in public, on account of you wanting to keep our relationship a secret, but I still want to show you that I care...that I…” He drifts off, eyes wide, catching what he was about to say.

“T-that you w-what?” Bill inquiries, he’s not going to let Richie get away with cutting that thought short.

“That I...that I…” He’s stumbling over his words. “Ugh. Fuck you, Debrough! That I love you! There I said it, are you happy? I love you.”

“I l-love you t-too, Richie.” A grand smiles comes across Bill’s face. “C-can I s-show you?”

Richie nods. He’s been dreaming of this moment for twelve years. Bill closes the distance between them and presses a sweet kiss to Richie’s lips. Richie really leans into it, he wants everything that Bill has to offer. Bill swipes his tongue across Richie’s lower lip, asking permission, and Richie happily grants it to him. They fall back on Richie’s bed, Bill slots himself between Richie’s legs and lifts them so that his pelvis is pressing right into the crease of Richie’s ass. Richie can feel how hard Bill is through his jeans already, and he moans into the kiss at the thought. Bill reaches down and palms the bulge in his boyfriend’s pants. Richie feels tingly all over.

“Less clothes now!” He mutters out and Bill leans back enough to begin unbuttoning Richie’s jeans. Richie wiggles his hips so that Bill can pull them down, and then he kicks them off. Richie is tenting in his boxers, and he would probably be more embarrassed about it, but Bill is licking his lips just looking at it. Bill hooks his fingers in the bands of the boxers and pulls them down. He scrunches Richie’s shirt up until Richie gets the hint and pulls it off. He’s completely naked on his bed, legs spread and lifted to his chest, presenting his leaking hard cock and tight pink hole while his boyfriend stares hungrily at him. “You too Billy, you can’t fuck me with your clothes on.” Richie’s mind is tingling, his filter gone, and Bill groans at the bluntness of his words. He stands up from the bed and pulls his shirt over his head. Richie really wants to run his hands up and down Bill’s abs. He then undoes his own jeans, pushing them and his boxer briefs down. Richie’s eyes get really wide, he’s seen Bill naked before, but never like this, never with the possibility of Bill actually fucking him lingering in the air. Bill looks like a fucking Adonis, He’s all lean muscle, and so tall. Richie thinks that Bill standing there naked looking at him, is just about the most beautiful and perfect thing that he’s ever seen.

“G-god Richie. Y-you look so g-good.” Bill says, moving back to the bed. He’s back between his legs, this time when he presses his groin into Richie’s ass, Richie can feel his dick pressing between his cheeks. “What d-do you w-want, Baby?” Bill is less experienced in this field. Richie is the first man that he’s ever been with, he’s enjoyed the learning curve so far, but he’s terrified that he will do something wrong and hurt Richie.

“Gah, Bill. Can we...can we 69?” It’s the only time in his life that he has ever been completely serious while talking about that number. “And then, Billy, I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me so hard that I feel your huge cock for days.” Richie is whining. He wants everything all at once. Bill nods, he wants it too. He moves so that his hips and cock are hovering over Richie’s mouth and he’s positioned to take Richie’s dick in his own mouth. Bill makes the first move, he licks a stripe up the side of Richie’s cock, then swirls his tongue in the slit, collecting the beads of precum and moaning at the taste, then he’s taking Richie in, encasing his cock in wet heat. He pushes down until the head is hitting the back of his throat. Richie groans, and grabs handfuls of Bill’s ass. He uses this grip to lift himself up and slide Bill’s dick into his mouth. It takes a few tries for him to get warmed up enough for him to take his massive dick all the way in, but when he allows Bill to thrust down enough to slide into his throat slightly he’s rewarded with godly sounds. They pull each other apart with their mouths. Bill rolls Richie’s balls in his hand, and Richie thinks he will come immediately if they didn't stop. The student has obviously surpassed the master. “Baby, if we don’t stop, I’m going to cum and I won’t get your dick in my ass.” Bill pulls off with a slurp and moves off of Richie.

“D-do you h-have stuff?” Bill asks, face flushed from the previous activity, the flush is spreading down his chest and Richie can see that his cock is red too, painfully hard and ready to fuck until release. Richie nods and pulls a small tube of lube out of his drawer, he stops and looks at Bill.

“Do you want to use a condom?” He bites his lip, he’s nervous. There’s just so much that they haven’t discussed, but he’s been waiting for so long for this, he doesn’t want to wait to have sex until they’ve had those conversations.

“I...I uh. I d-don’t know. D-do you?” Bill’s priority is Richie’s comfort, and he doesn’t know what to say.

“I want to feel you. All of you. I trust you, Bill. I love you.” Bill nods in agreement.

“I l-love you t-too, Rich. I w-want to make y-you feel so g-good.” Bill pulls Richie in for another kiss. Richie hands Bill the tube of lube and then flips over so that he’s on his knees and elbows, sticking his ass in the air.

“You’ve got to stretch me out good, Big Bill. That cock of yours is massive, I can’t take it without prep.” Richie glances over his shoulder, and sees Bill gripping the base of his dick with his eyes shut tightly. Richie giggles, and Bill is not amused.

Bill lubes up his fingers, and kneels on the bed with Richie’s ass right in front of him. He runs his fingers down Richie’s back to the top crease of his ass, he watches in aw as Richie’s tiny hole flutters at the sensation. Bill doesn’t know what comes over him, but he leans forward and licks a stripe right across Richie’s hole.

“Holy fuck, ahhhh, Bill, yes.” Richie cries out in pleasure and Bill does it again, letting the tip of his tongue enter the hole in a teasing way. Richie moans out again and Bill pulls back and circles the hole with his index finger, rubbing Richie’s ass cheek with his hand soothingly as he pushes in to his first knuckle. “Gahhh. Mmmm.” Richie thrusts back, taking the rest of Bill’s finger in. Bill laughs at Richie’s eagerness. “I swear to God Bill if you don’t start moving your fingers…” Bill starts thrusting his finger in and out, shutting Richie up. If only he had known years ago that it could be so easy. When Richie is getting really into it he adds another finger. Spreading them apart and loving the sounds he’s pulling out of his boyfriend. He rubs his finger tips on Richie’s walls until he finds the spot that has his back arching and curses tumbling out of his mouth. “Yes, Bill, yes, Jesus fuck. Fuck me. I’m ready. Stick that fat cock on meeeeeeeee.” He half whines, half moans.

Bill pours a generous amount of lube on his cock and spreads it around, groaning at the feeling of his own hand touching his sensitive dick. He flips Richie so he’s on his back.

“I w-want to s-see you.” He says bashfully, but Richie is giving him the biggest smile. He helps Richie hook his legs over his shoulders,leaving his hole wide open for Bill and presses the blunt head of his cock against it. Richie moans at the pressure, and then Bill is slowly inching in. He has to screw his eyes shut, the tight heat better than anything he had ever felt in his life. “H-holy shit, R-richie. You f-feel so g-ggod, you’re s-so t-tight.”

“Mmmmm, you fill me up so good, Big Bill.” Bill growls at the nickname and slowly pulls his dick out of Richie and then slams his hips forward. Richie’s eyes damn near roll back in his head. Bill starts gaining more confidence and momentum, rolling his hips into Richie’s ass repeatedly. “Fuck yes, ugh, yes, fuck ugh. Harder, Bill. Oh my God.”

Bill is getting close, Richie is absolutely mesmerizing. He reaches a hand in between them and gets Richie’s cock in his hand, stroking in time with his thrusts. It takes less than ten tugs for Richie to tumble over the edge with a shout of Bill’s name, tingles taking over his whole body. As soon as Richie clenches around Bill’s dick his cumming too, pumping his load deep inside Richie, only stilling his hips when he’s completely spent. He pulls out carefully, still worried about hurting Richie. The other boy immediately makes grabby arms and Bill folds himself into them.

“W-was that o-okay?” Bill asks, feeling incredibly self conscious. He hopes that he was good enough for Richie.

“Okay? Bill, that was fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing. Like a sex God I swear, and you don’t even try!” Richie squawks.

“Y-you’re fucking a-amazing.” Bill says from where his face is tucked into the crook of Richie’s neck. “Y-you’re the s-sex God.” Richie laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound, one of Bill’s favorites.

“You’re only saying that because I just let you totally wreck my ass. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Bill frowns, and Richie immediately calls him on it. “Oh hush. I wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything. I love you William Denbrough.”

“I l-love you t-too, Richard T-Tozier.” Bill smiles at him and kisses him again. He wants this forever, wishes that he had admitted his feeling to himself much sooner. There’s only one thing left to do. “H-hey Richie...w-what do y-you think about t-telling the o-others?”

“Really?” Richie’s eyes are wide, searching for some hint on Bill’s face that he’s joking or still has reservations, but Bill just nods. Richie attacks him with more kisses. They don’t have to keep it a secret anymore. Bill pulls away, and looks Richie right in the eye.

“I’m y-yours. I w-want the w-whole world t-to know.”

#Bichie #IT Movie 2017 #Stephen King's IT #Bill Denbrough #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Mike Hanlon #Ben Hanscom #Beverly Marsh #Stanley Uris #Stan Uris #Smut #Slash

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marril96 · 6 years

Text

Nausea

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Reader is sick and Rowena takes care of her.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

You had a low tolerance for pain.

One of the perks of being a witch was that you didn't get sick often, and when it did happen, potions and spells would ensure the ailment goes away rather quickly. Gone were the days when you had to lie in bed for two weeks to nurse a bad flu. You'd still gotten flu shots as a precaution, but if they happened to fail you, a potion most certainly wouldn't. A few days and you'd be as good as new.

This time, however, was different. It wasn't a virus that had attacked your immune system, or a cut that needed assistance in healing. You weren't one hundred percent sure what it was, but your best guess was that it was the food you'd eaten the day before. Perhaps you'd overeaten, or the different kinds of foods you'd consumed throughout the day hadn't been the best of friends in your stomach.

Whatever it was, one thing was for sure: you felt horrible, as if you'd been hit by a truck, twice, then ran over by a train, and thrown in a ditch just for kicks.

It wasn't the most pleasant of experiences, to say the least.

"Rowena!" you called in a tone of absolute misery. Curling up on the couch, you laid the cup of coffee back on the coffee table.

Following yesterday's horrible nausea ordeal, you thought you were getting better. Rowena had prepared you a potion, and last night, just before going to bed, it appeared to have worked.

Not anymore.

Rowena emerged from the kitchen, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. "What is it, dear?"

"I'm not feeling well," you said.

Her expression softened, features rearranging into a look of compassion. "Nausea again?"

"Yeah," you said in a small voice, head hanging low and weak. "It's back."

Nothing else needed to be said. Lowering her cup on the table, she took a seat next to you. Instinctively, you laid down, resting your head on her lap. Her fingers rubbed your arm, trailing up and down your skin, long, blood red nails lightly brushing against its surface. Not many got to see this side of Rowena. She put on a heartless mask for the world, but at home, she could be a real sweetheart. Especially when you needed her.

Her gentle touch soothed you, and slowly, you relaxed, the churning of your stomach erased from your thoughts in favor of peace. You reached for Rowena's hand and squeezed it tightly, as if she would disappear if you were to loosen your grip.

It was times like these that made you feel like a child again. For a moment, in your mind, you were that little girl again, taken care of by your mom.

Only, you were an adult now and your mom wasn't here anymore.

The one that was with you, the one who loved you and cherished you and provided you with care you'd so desperately craved, was Rowena.

And you were alright with that.

There was no one in the world you trusted to take care of you more than her.

Those who didn't know her would find it silly, think you crazy for letting your guard down around a wicked witch with centuries of nothing but blood on her hands.

But you knew better.

The Rowena they though they knew and the Rowena you actually knew were two different people.

"I'll make you another potion," Rowena said, her sweet, tender voice a lullaby to your tired being.

"Stay here first, please?" you asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

She put on a small smile. "Of course. Whatever you want, darling."

Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your cheek. You closed your eyes, basking in her warmth, in the safety her touch provided. If there was anyone you could be weak in front of, it was her.

"Rowena, what's wrong with me?" you inquired, tears pooling in your eyes. You just wanted it to stop. You wanted this pain and misery to go as far away from you as possible. It had only been a day and you already missed your old self.

"If I had to guess, I'd say it's that rubbish you always stuff yourself with," she responded, scrunching her face at the thought of your fast food.

"That 'rubbish' is the best," you said defensively.

Rowena scoffed. "It's vile. I don't know how you can stand the smell of it, let alone eat it."

"You've no taste," you teased.

"I'm not the one barely holding my dinner down, now am I?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow.

You tried to think of a good comeback, but could come up with nothing. She had you there. "Shut up."

"That's what I thought," she said smugly.

"I hate you," you whined. She could be so mean sometimes.

Rowena chuckled. "No, you don't," she said, pursing her lips. "You just don't want to admit that I'm right. One stubborn lass, you are."

"That's no way to treat the sick."

"Would you prefer it I leave you to your own devices?"

"No."

"Then be good." She booped your nose with her forefinger, prompting you to pout. Her lips curled into a smile. "I'll go make you that potion now. Wait here and be a good girl."

"What if I don't?" you challenged.

"I'll have to think of a punishment."

"You're so cruel."

"You know it, dear."

Giving you one last kiss on the forehead, she helped you raise your head off her lap to allow her to stand up. Then, she fluffed one of the pillows and, as you were getting comfortable on it, gently laid a blanket over you.

"Rowena?" you said as she looked you over, making sure the blanket covered you whole.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"And I love you," she said, giving your cheek a light caress. "Rest now. I'll be right back."

You did as told.

And so did she.

Tags: @apritelleorai @darktweet @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @christinalibertymikaelson @violinmyhead @royalrowena @supwhorecorp @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie

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#rowena #rowena macleod #rowena x reader #spn drabble #rowena drabble #supernatural drabble #drabble #drabbles #rowena macleod x reader #spn #supernatural #fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction #my fics #nausea

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thevelonaut · 7 years

Text

Homefront.

This is absolutely classics country. Fortunately, any semblance of romance gives way, quickly, to pain and frustration. On the way South East, I’d known in my heart of hearts that a tailwind (and occasionally swipey cross-wind) was helping me out. I knew that I’d be turning back into it, and that however gentle it felt as we wandered the streets of Brux, it would be multiplied significantly as I crept back across the ridgey-flats of the North West. The reason that the early-season classics are a hotch-potch of gurn, of hellish faces and awful weather, is much the same as the reason why this was a crap place for a crap war; once the sun goes in (and to some extent when it’s out), the endless flat lands, farm smells, headwinds, sideways drizzle and cobbled tracks become as steadfast an obstacle as the Pyrenean cols, the switchbacks of d’Huez, the ramps of the mighty Lecht. I’d prefer some hardy cols to this. It’s the kind of place suited for those broad-shouldered monsters of the old days, who could puncheur into wind like a force of nature. I can, for a bit. For a little bit.

The fifth day / Brussels → Ieper

Ypres, the French call it. Some five days (and 100 years) after the Battle of Paschendaele, I roll into Ypres through the Menenpoort. I say roll, I think it was the least uphill-feeling part of the day. I’d hung out with HC, her brother and sister-in-law in Brussels for two days. I’d had a cheeky swim to spin my legs, I’d noted a twinge in my groin which I imagine is due to over-cranking a gear for 200k, loaded with luggage, and not ever stretching it en route. I curse it. It needs rest, two days probably won’t cut it, and the Cambium isn’t so comfy after a four or five hour day. Maybe leather is better. I think so. I’ll flog it.

Anyway, I was up and out at 8am; the paths and back streets of Brussels are fairly easy to navigate, and the sun was out to remind me to head in a NWerly direction. I ended up on the ring-road and saw no way to head further north without a) riding on a motorway or b) turning back and trying again from about 3 miles back. With a 90-mile day ahead, I decided to head for Aalst, due west of Brussels, then turn to the north-west after about 30km. It wasn’t the worst idea. The pastoral, calm canalside riding that had seen me down seemed to desert me; instead, I was often on paths alongside the murder roads of NW Belgium, caning it up decentish-tracks and pavements, lamenting the canopied, wind-free joyfest of days two and three. This is another of my problems - I never set out a good return trip. Or, perhaps, I am so addled by the sense of return that I fail to enjoy what is nice about it. Or, the wind is a hell-ferret that never stopped in its attempts to break me. Eventually I stopped at a Spar and sprayed my face with Appletiser, and at 2.30pm when the sun hot-spongs for a spell, I applied suncream and ate a baguette and houmous on a housing estate by a dual carriageway. If it sounds exciting, then it is. I picked up a little of that TCR spirit. Fuck the views.. they all look like this anyway.

They do. Seriously. I did about 90k of this. There were marginally more leaves on the trees, but most of them were blowing into my face. Still, it is pancake flat, ironing board, smooth as Christ riding. Let’s not mince words. Easy-hard. Or hard-easy.

I get to Oudenaarde, then Wevelgem, and hit the final 20k to Ypres where I know there is a campings. Those last km are sign-posted all to hell with Commonwealth War Graves. Evocative names, famous craters, hills, memorials, regiments; atop the ridgeline, white crosses, monoliths and megaliths, the bright stalagmites that point to where most peoples innards ended up; scattered into the pressing wind, lovely human beings fractioned into micro-particles, cast into a land ever-fertile for the growing of war-dead cabbages and sprouts. They say each breath you take will contain at least an oxygen molecule that Julius Caesar himself would have inhaled. (They don’t say that in the song. They should.) Along the Menen road, you are sucking in the literal and figurative remains of almost a whole generation of human beings.

I don’t like it. I’d seen Ypres was en route to Dunkirk, from where I spring home, and figured that it made sense to pass through. If I did a long-day-short-day two-day ride then I could stay here. I crept in through the gate; the sun is now out glorious, and the town is a magnificent sight. HC navigates me (she’s in London, having taken a bus to the station in Brussels, a train to London, and a bus home in the time it has taken me to yam some houmous in a lay-by) to the campsite; it’s a nice one, if you ignore the Canadian grave-baggers in the mobile homes, the people wearing T-shirts that name regiments and feature photographs of eternally-young great-great-uncles. I put up camp, wash, and stroll to Lidl to bag the last baguette, 3-flavour houmous (oh MY ACTUAL GOD THIS IS AMAZING) and a tin of mackerel. Whilst I demolish this on Ypres square, I note a bunch of people dressed in their going-out clothes walking purposely through town. I’d forgotten that they play The Last Post every night at the Gate, and ambled along covered in beetroot and parsnip dip to pay my respects.

Except I didn’t really know how to. Or why I should? TO what, exactly, am I paying respect? And where are the Germans? Why is the Poort covered with only the Allied dead? And it’s nice that we honour the Indian regiments, when they were forced to dig so many trenches and graves, and be treated like shit for the privilege. Plus, I recently read that an explicit promise to release India from the Commonwealth in return for military support was never honoured. So, really, the whole thing leaves a strange taste in the mouth. Not just the race, the nationalism, the anti-nationalism, the visible lack of outreach; the spectacle itself feels like a fetish. There cannot be a person here who actually knew the dead of Ypres; too much time has gone by. And it is important that we honour this stupidity in order that we may not see its like again. But the crowds, the iPhones, the inane chat when it’s finished. I wasn’t in the mood. Is it the case that a ride across the Maginot Line is the perfect pace to consider the distance and futility of a war that became a mass-grave, formed into a perfect borderline? The Last Post had been, on some unconscious level, playing in my head for hours. It’s the soundtrack of a dark, sad place. So, so sad.

I woke at 6.30am the next day and hotfooted it out of town.

The sixth day / Ieper → Dunkirk → Dover → London Bridge → My bed.

The roads from Ypres to the border were quiet, uneventful, still windy. I got lost two or three times. I’d cycle later this month with my friend Ed, who uses Strava and Garmin and magic; the ease of navigation with devices astounds me. It picks out exactly where you are, and tells you exactly where to go. I almost give in to the temptation to update my by-now 4 year-old Blackberry to something worth a shit, that could do such things. Handlebar mounts for phones don’t do it for me, though. I use every square millimetre of space on a handlebar for, well, my hands. So... not yet. The phone still works. I got lost. Added six miles onto a 40-mile day. Nae bother.

I reached Oost-Capel after a spell of anonymity. I craved a coffee, hoped this French border town would have someplace to sit. It did not.. Belgian towns are decidedly absent of cafes, I know not why. It’s one of those subtle differences; you feel as if you are in France, but it’s the upside-down version. Instead of a nice cafe, there are about ten border guards sleepily waving down cars, mirror-checking the chassis, asking where people are off to. It’s an unsettling sight, but they wave me right by. (The guards at the port would later give me the same bored wave-through. I’m not carrying weapons of mass destruction (400k of fixed touring has savaged my groin and patella, mind you) but it’s both curious and somewhat alarming that a bike can get through to the ferry easily.)

There’s a nice small walled city called Bergues, where I stop for a brew. I dip the remains of last night’s baguette into it, soaking up about half that black glorious. I love soaking bread in coffee, but even though I still get the coffee, I feel like I’m denying myself something. Bergues is right pretty; I trace the little canal network to the North and take a cycle path alongside a canal to Dunkirk. It’s the nicest part of the day. I reach Dunkirk at about 12.30pm, and orbit the old town for an hour or so, then take the dock road up toward the ferry port. I load my bright pink musette with a lunch from Lidl, carry it over a motorway overpass, under a gyratory, behind a Travelodge, past some cranes, around ten roundabouts, over another autoroute, along a busy truck road, around a slag pile and just beneath some fire-spewing chimneys. The ferry port is not a pretty place. Pretty, in that industrial sense, which is to say not so pretty at all. I eat lunch in the weird cafe where no staff work, only machines; it’s a post-Marxist approach to the service industry. I wonder if the docking ferry in front of me is driven by a human being. I think about all those human beings who waited for a boat home in 1940 and all the ones that never got a chance to leave the cruddy fields of Flanders. I am covered in houmous, again, at a moment of silent contemplation. The world is a calm sea, choppy in the middle, and some white chalky downs that leap out of the channel at Dover. Everyone takes photographs of the sharp teeth of England’s mouth, opening up in a bucolic snarl to gobble up its visitors. Pretty soon, I am in torrential rain outside Dover station, throbbing legs, pack of peanuts, Spar lemon-lime and a newspaper to tell me what I missed.

Tour over. Legs recover. I pull out of London Bridge and spin crazy-legs to home. HC makes porridge. The sun goes down.

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