based on this concept of steve and mike coming out to each other
🤍 also on ao3
The sun is setting in beautiful hues of pink and purple, tinging the town of Hawkins, Indiana, in a light of serenity and beauty it doesn’t really deserve. Steve’s hands are gripped tight around the steering wheel as he carefully scans the road and the houses he passes.
He almost misses the bike where it’s lying on the curb, carelessly discarded by the looks of it, and a tinge of worry shadows his frown. Worry that doesn’t quite dissipate when he spots the figure sitting on the roof, almost black against the lilac colour of the sky, but he breathes a sigh of relief. He considers grabbing the radio to let the others know he found Mike, but decides against it. Something tells him that maybe they’ll take a while. Something tells him there’s more to Will’s stunned silence and Mike’s sudden departure from where they were all hanging out at Steve’s after another successful Hellfire session.
With a sigh, Steve cuts the engine and gets out of the car, keeping his eyes on Mike the whole time — ready for him to take off again, ready to go sit a while and wait for him to come back. But Mike doesn’t move, even after he shuts the door and approaches the Wheelers’ house. He doesn’t acknowledge Steve when he pulls himself up to the roof, easier this time than the first time he did this.
There’s a snide comment in the air between them, a version of Mike that would have lashed out at him, made fun of and insulted him. But this one just sits there, hands in his lap, frown on his face, and stares ahead.
“What do you want,” he asks eventually, though it doesn’t have the kind of heat that Steve expects. He barely even sounds like a teenager. Just sort of… dejected. Steve aches for him; just a little bit.
“Just making sure you’re alright,” Steve says, shrugging, looking ahead as well so Mike doesn’t feel watched. Or seen, maybe.
Because the thing is, Steve does see him. He sees the way he looks at Will sometimes, and the way his eyes fill with something that can only be described as yearning, or aching, followed by regret and fear. Which always, always turn into anger. Into frustration. Into snide comments and rolled eyes and walls that keep getting an inch added to them each day. It’s never directed at Will, that anger, and rarely at the rest of the Party, but Steve still sees it. Gets the worst of it and takes it, because he knows something about how that feels.
He knows something about looking at someone like that, about feeling that fear, that regret, that worry that come with it. He knows something about never really daring to meet someone’s eyes for fear of what they would see.
“I’m alright,” Mike says, sounding anything but. There’s a bitterness in his voice. Frustration in the way his thumb is picking at the skin of his fingers. Confusion in the tension of his shoulders, and Steve feels like he only needs to make one wrong move, say one wrong word, make a single sound that’s off key to the melody of this moment, and Mike will jump off the roof and take off again with his bike.
So all he says, after a moment’s consideration, is, “Cool.” Like he believes him. Giving Mike room to breathe, room to pretend. He knows something about that, too.
He knows and he sees and he feels.
And suddenly he wants to say something he’s never said before, something he didn’t even get to tell Robin because she knew and saw and felt, too, taking something from him that he hasn’t yet been ready to reclaim for himself.
And maybe it’s because he sees something of himself in the way Mike holds himself, in the way he snaps at anyone willing to listen, in the way he frowns in regret and barely meets anyone’s eyes except when it’s in challenge — and, most of all, in the way he never, never meets Will’s eyes. In the way he looks away when the other boy turns to him, and in the way his eyes will snap back and take in everything about his best friend when he’s not aware of it.
Maybe it’s because the sky is pink and lilac and purple above them, allowing for a certain magic to happen, allowing for a bravery that doesn’t come easy to him; but as he sits on the roof next to Mike Wheeler, the only one of the Party he never really connected with, he closes his eyes against the breeze that catches in his hair and opens his jacket a little further, slithering beneath the fabric as if in a brief embrace, a nudge, a sign to take this leap, and takes a deep breath.
His heart is picking up its pace inside his chest, taking this leap along wit him, and pulls up one of his legs to wrap his hands around it — just to have something to hold onto.
He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words never really come out. They don’t know how, and he’s beginning to tremble a little with it, tension building in his chest where the words are still locked away, hidden among layers of truth.
Mike looks over with a frown and eyes him warily. It makes Steve want to laugh, this sudden change of pace, but he just keeps staring ahead; even when Mike asks, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Steve says. And then then dam is broken and breaking further, and with another deep breath, still not meeting Mike’s eyes, instead focusing on the tree tops in the distance that shine in hues of purple, he finally says, “I’m kind of dating Eddie Munson.”
And just like that, it’s out. He’s out.
He doesn’t know if the world still spins, if time still passes, if he still breathes, because for a moment there is only silence. Mike stops picking at the skin of his fingers, Steve stops trembling, and neither of them moves.
It’s both anticlimactic and momentous, this silence between them when their eyes meet. When the words unfold and grow wings, when Mike understands, his eyes growing big with something that Steve can’t quite read with how tense he is despite his best efforts.
The silence stretches between them, surpassing comfort and overstaying its welcome, and suddenly it’s Steve who feels like he’s about to take off if Mike so much as twitches his brows.
“You… What?”
Forget it, Steve wants to say. Nothing.
But also, I’m in love with Eddie Munson. And I used to be in love with Nancy. And that’s okay. Both of that, it’s okay.
He ends up repeating his words, though, because they know what it’s like to be spoken now. “Eddie. I’m kind of dating Eddie.”
“But…” It’s Mike now whose mouth is opening and closing without saying anything. Mike who’s blinking, trembling a little, twitching, picking at his skin again, moving further along his hand this time to pinch the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Steve almost reaches out to stop him, but he doesn’t really dare to.
“But?” he prompts after a while, not quite comfortable with this loaded kind of silence.
“Eddie’s a boy.”
But Tammy Thompson is a girl.
“I know,” Steve says, his tone carefully neutral, wanting to see, to wait where Mike takes this, to hear what’s on his mind, to watch the wheels turn and the gears shift. He feels awfully raw and open, vulnerable with someone who hasn’t been treating that with care yet. But there’s something about this moment that feels bigger than his own fears, bigger than the light nausea settling in his gut; far more important than the way he wants to run and hide, away from the scrutiny.
“And…” Mike continues, still battling the words inside his head. Steve wonders if there are too many or none at all. “But you… You loved Nancy.”
Ah. Smart boy. “I did,” Steve says with a small smile. “And it was never a lie. But I found that… Yeah, I can kinda like boys, too, y’know? And that’s, like, okay.”
A beat. A frown. A confused, hopeful, small, “It is?”
Steve just nods, smiling in reassurance and relief at equal measures. Silence settles once more, now that the sky has darkened into a deeper, darker blue; but it’s not as loaded this time, not as tense. It’s an invitation. An offering. A promise of I’m here, I’m with you, you can take as long as you need. To get down from the roof, to come back, to come out of wherever you think you need to hide from the world.
Mike takes it. He stays, pulling up his leg, too, mirroring Steve’s pose and staring ahead, but not as far away. He seems alert, seems to be thinking rather than dwelling, seems to be gearing up for something. Steve watches and sees and knows, remaining patient beside him, his chin resting on his knee as Mike learns to deal with this new world that has been presented to him. This new world that comes with opportunities and chances and possibilities that are scary and big and difficult to make.
“Y’know,” Mike starts at last, interrupting the silence, playing with it, his voice hushed and quiet to keep it from disappearing completely. “Lucas, when he had that championship game? He told us, Dustin and me, that we didn’t have to be the losers this time. The nerds. The outcasts. Different. And all I wanted was to scream at him, because…”
Mike swallows his words, keeping them from tumbling out of his mouth, and Steve aches for him again. He wants to reach out, wants to say it’s okay, tell him it’s alright, to take his time. But he waits in silence, lets Mike find the bravery he needs on his own, and waits.
“Because how could he say that, you know? How could he, when… Will wasn’t there. And all I did, all I ever did anymore, was miss him. And I loved El, I knew I did. And she was gone, too, but…”
He trails off again, and this time Steve picks it up. To let him know he’s not alone. To let Mike know he understands what he’s saying. He understands. “But she’s not Will. You needed Will.”
“But I shouldn’t!” Mike explodes suddenly, riled up because Steve adds fuel to the fire, because Steve has that same fire, too; and because they are so, so similar when they want to be. “And now he’s back and it should be fine, I shouldn’t be feeling like this, it doesn’t even make sense! How can I…”
Steve looks at him, at his expression that is nothing but lost — completely and utterly. He’s seen it on the bathroom floor at the mall; high out of his mind as he was, he’ll never forget the way Robin looked at him, the sheer crestfallen expression. All that confusion, all that fear and frustration and, in the end, resignation. He’s seen it in the mirror, and he’s seen it in those pretty brown eyes that he just can’t get out of his head anymore.
He offers, gently, “How can you need him when he’s right there? How can you love him when a year ago you loved El?”
And Mike just looks at him before he deflates completely, his shoulders falling along with his face. He nods. Shrugs. Looks away and hides his face behind his leg.
Steve sighs softly, watching the boy and speaking the words he wants to say the sixteen year-old version of himself. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I really don’t, and it sucks sometimes, having this need to, like, decide. Or understand. Or stop and be like the rest of them.” Like Robin and Eddie, or like the rest of the world. “But I like to think, sometimes, that maybe it’s a good thing. That there’s just… I don’t know, it sounds corny as hell, but like, there’s just so much love to give, we can’t even stick to only boys or girls, y’know.”
“That does sound real corny as fuck, man,” Mike says, and back is that long suffering tone of his, back is that eye roll and the twitching elbow, ready to nudge Steve in the side. It’s still tinged with that vulnerability, not quite Mike yet, but it’s an offering.
One of many tonight, it seems.
Steve grins, a bit lopsided and raw, shoving Mike gently as he remembers something he overheard once. “Sorry, mister Heart of our group, but I don’t think you have any leg to stand on here.”
That makes Mike freeze, though, and he stares at Steve wide-eyed; caught. Exposed. Reminded.
“What did you say?”
“Uh,” Steve falters, not sure where he went wrong — or if he went wrong at all. “I overheard Will calling you that, talking about you to, uhm. Someone. I don’t know. Why, what’s— What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Mike says, way too quickly, pulling away again with everything he has, hiding behind those walls once more, and Steve feels whiplash from it.
“Mike,” he says, his voice quiet and gentle as he turns to face him completely.
“No.”
“It’s okay,” Steve says. Promises, as much as he can.
“Shut up!”
“You’re not wrong or bad or broken. It’s okay, you’re okay.”
“I said, shut up, Steve.”
“You should see the way he looks at you, too. You should go talk to him. You—“
Mike lashes out, finally coming out from behind those walls again, only to shove at Steve, to push him away — hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost fall off the roof, clenching one hand on the edge, the other in the rainwater gutter with a bitten-off curse.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” Mike reaches for him immediately, snapping out of whatever anger Steve caused, and pulling him back until he’s safe again, apologising over and over, dead to Steve’s promises that it’s alright. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Steve, I’m so—“
He pulls Mike against his chest, finally reaching out to hold the boy who always pushes people away when they get too close — quite literally, too.
But he doesn’t shove this time, doesn’t move out of Steve’s grasp as the mumbled apologies become heaving sobs.
“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re so okay, Mike,” Steve tells him over and over as he holds him. The sky above is almost black now and Steve lets Mike cry into his chest.
It takes a while for Mike to calm down, but Steve just holds him through it, ready to let go whenever Mike wants to pull back and snap out of it again — but he never does, and Steve feels a certain kind of affection for the boy that is usually reserved for Lucas or Dustin.
At last, when he’s calmed down, Mike pulls back a little. “Do you really… Does it… Is it really okay?”
Can it be okay? Can I really like both? Is that not just me, being broken and wrong and bad? Will I get the chance to not be alone?
Steve swallows hard, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Yeah. It’s really okay. ‘N’ I’m with you, yeah? If someone gives you shit for it. Or if you need a reminder.”
And Mike — puffy eyed, snotty nosed, so, so young — looks at him with those trusting eyes and nods, like he believes Steve. Like he trusts him. Like he hopes.
“Just don’t fucking shove me off your roof again.”
Ans just like that, the spell is broken, the tension is lifted, and silence has left them, as Mike almost chokes on a laugh and shoves at him again, lightly this time, before jumping off the roof so Steve can’t retaliate.
“Asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head as he, too, jumps off the roof, dusting off his pants as he watches Mike grabbing his bike. “Hey, Micycle,” he calls, cackling when Mike flips him the bird. “You want a ride back?”
Mike stops, considering as Steve casually flicks his keys into the air and catches them expertly. “What kinda music do you got?”
“The Clash, ‘cause Eddie hates them.”
“Yeah, that’s because they suck!”
Steve snorts, opening the driver’s side door. “Y’know, they’re one of Will’s favourites, actually.”
He watches Mike freeze with a grin on his face, knowing there’s no way the boy would take the bike.
“You’re so annoying,” Mike sighs as he brings his bike close to the garage and carefully lays it on the grass this time before hurrying over to Steve, getting in on the front, rolling his eyes when Steve cackles. “I don’t know why Eddie would date you—“
His words are drowned out when Steve turns up Train in Vain, drumming along on the steering wheel with a shit eating grin. Though the atmosphere is wildly different now, the spell broken and the bubble burst, it’s undeniable that something happened between them. Something big, something important.
Something that makes Mike’s annoyed, long-suffering expression be broken by the smile he’s trying to hide. It makes Steve laugh, elated and feeling something that’s much, much bigger than he himself ever could be.
It’s going to be okay. So, so okay.
Before they know it, they’re pulling up to Steve’s and he turns off the car, is about to get out when Mike makes him still again.
“Hey, Steve?”
“Hm?”
“I think it’s cool. You and Eddie.”
He smiles, relief and fondness washing over him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.” He reaches over and ruffles Mike’s hair — a wild mane these days, but they could make it work with some care and some products. “Now go get your man, lover boy.”
“God, you suck so much, you’re so annoying!”
Steve’s cackling again when the passenger door slams shut and Mike lets himself into his house.
He spots a figure in the dark, their face lighting up when they take a drag of a cigarette — and Steve’s heart stumbles in his chest. He scrambles to get out, attempting to look calm and collected, even though Eddie always manages to see right through him.
“Hello, stranger,” he says, leaning against the wall beside Eddie, hiding away in the dark, where the world won’t see their shoulders touch, or their fingers tentatively playing with each other before they can’t take it no longer and lace their hands, holding on tight.
“Hi,” Eddie breathes. “How’d it go?”
“Fine, I think. But, uhm… I told him. About me. About us. That, uh. That okay?”
Even in the dark, Steve can feel eyes on him, but he just stares ahead, opting instead to give his warm hand a squeeze. He smiles when Eddie’s thumb begins to draw patterns on his palm.
“Hmm. Very. You think they’ll be okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve breathes, stealing Eddie’s cigarette from his mouth and pulling it between his own lips. “Yeah, I think they will be.”
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Death x Halloween Costume Red Riding Hood! Reader
( Reader is an artist/writer with extreme burnout )
( I really tried not to write this oneshot but goddammit he's got me intrigued 😫)
Halloween in Far Far Away was always a blast. Townsfolk filling the streets in their best tailored costumes, kids running about with candy and on the hunt for more. The weather was always the perfect temperature, too, with just enough chill in the air to wear heavily layered costumes without too much of a sweat. Which is why Y/n had adorned a long, beautiful, bright red hooded cloak over a simple, yet regal outfit. Unfortunately, their perfect look couldn't mask how shitty they felt.
For the past decade or so, they'd been one of the kingdom's most renowned creatives. Their works ranged from colorful illustrations, kids books, paintings, murals, YA novels and a few spicier adult novels that got much popularity to their embarrassment.
Needless to say they were a jack of many trades, and yet they've been able to create nothing for the past year and a half. Everyone had figured that the great artist was just taking a well needed break. Which was true for five months until they tried to make something and nothing happened. No spark. No idea. Nothing happened no matter what they tried or what medium they attempted to mold into something new and exciting.
It eventually lead to a depression that left them barley leaving the house, vowing not to do anything fun until they got an idea. Well until their entire friend group dragged them to this tavern's Halloween party in a costume that one of them conveniently had in their size. Yeah this was definitely a premeditated scheme to get their groove back. And as much as Y/n appreciated that they couldn't find the energy to leave the bar and join everyone else drunkenly dancing and singing on the dance floor.
Y/n sat in a big heap of silken red on the barstool looking down into their glass of Victorian Orphan Tears, a fruity drink made specifically for the holiday. They kept pondering on where their magic had gone. Had they used themselves up? Was this the end of their career? Would they have nothing else to show the world before they died?!
A few of their own tears were about to join the orphan's when they heard a soft whistle amongst the tavern band's melodies. Confused, they blearily glanced at their side to see a large, darkly hooded figure. They would've flinched if they had the energy to. No one had sat next to them all night due to the gloomy aura they'd been emitting. Yet here sat a mysterious stranger, who soon turned upon sensing their gaze, whistling halted. Y/n was met with the face of a white wolf. Wolves weren't uncommon in their society but something about those eyes jarred them. Those rich, blood red eyes. So bright that their costume couldn't dare be called red ever again. Y/n wasn't aware that they'd been locked in long moments of eye contact until the wolf leaned close enough that their noses almost touched. He made a soft but audible sniff.
" Mmm that smell..."
Y/n shivered at hearing the wolf's deep, gravely voice. It was all they could hear as if they weren't in a large room full of party-goers.
"...So sweet..."
"I..uh..what???" Y/n managed to mutter, slowly but surely pulling themselves back to the present reality, but the world aside from the wolf still remained blurry.
" Your drink."
They blinked. " Huh?"
" Your drink." He pointed at their glass. " It smells amazing. What is it?"
" Oh...Oh! My drink. Yeah uh this is Victorian Orphan Tears. It's a Halloween special drink."
" Hm, I'd better get one now before the night's over."
They nodded and looked back into their glass. Surely the wolf would would want to leave their gloomy presence and this was were the interaction would end. But no he stayed after his drink was served, enjoying three long sips.
" Mmm, that is as tasty as it smells. Glad I found an autumn drink without pumpkin spice in it. No offense if you're a pumpkin lover yourself, Little Red."
" Hm? Oh no offense at all. I've got nothing against the flavor but I can see how it can get overwhelming this time of year. There are other spooky flavors out there."
The wolf let out a light chuckle, pearly white fangs twinkling as bright as his fur.
" Yes exactly. I for one would love to see more cherries next halloween."
" Cherries?" Y/n snickered almost into a chuckle of their own, a rare reaction for them these days. " What's scary about cherries?"
The wolf grinned slyly.
" Well, there's nothing seemingly scary about them. So they usually get overlooked as a cute little fruit. But then you squeeze 'em just right into a glaze and they look just like blood. Even so you can't help but want to take a bite. Then you realize how good it is and can't get enough. By then your mouth's already stained red as if you did actually consume blood." he finishes, taking another sip of his drink.
" Wow, I guess cherries are a good fruit for Halloween." they say, taking sips from their drink as well.
" I'm surprised you hadn't considered it. You know with your costume and all. It's the perfect shade of cherry red just like the actual Little Red Riding Hood." he leans in a bit and whispers. " Though I'd steer clear of her tonight, I hear she's trying to copyright her likeness like Fairy Godmother did."
Y/n chokes a nearly spits out half their drink.
" Wait really?!" they panic looking around the room for a similar red hooded figure.
The wolf throws his head back in a guffaw.
" Oh man." he catches his breath. " I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how you'd react.
Y/n catches on and playfully punches his shoulder.
"You jerk, I thought I was in legal trouble for a second." they finally manage a full laugh.
" I know I know, but you seemed so down. Thought a good laugh might help. "
" Yeah. It did actually. Thanks."
They get caught once again into prolonged eye contact, now with something softer between them. The wolf is the first to break.
" Oh forgive me. I've been rude."
" What? No you haven't." they almost said ' you've been lovely ' but stopped themself in time before coming on too strong to a guy who was probably just making friendly small talk. They hadn't been looking their best lately and worried tonight wasn't an exception. Their friends' makeover only barely made their dark circles disappear.
" No but I have. I've been rambling on with you as if you're not here with someone."
Their brows shot up.
" U-uh. I'm not here with anyone. I mean! I am technically with my friends. So yeah in a way yeah." ' smooth real smooth Y/n.'
The wolf raised a brow, intrigued.
" I see. But you're not here with someone as a couples costume kinda thing?"
" No. Who would my partner come dressed as anyway?" they asked genuinely confused. ' What kind of pair would that be? Little Red & Granny? Cute and funny but not romantic partner material.'
The wolf stared intently, amused grin spreading.
" The Big Bad Wolf." he said in a low tone.
Y/n eyes widened with embarrassment. ' Oh God! I'm so stupid of course that would be it!!! ' Apparently self induced seclusion plus whatever magic charisma this guy had was enough to turn their mind to mush within a few minutes. Luckily the Tavern band's leader got everyone's attention on the mic.
" Hey hey how's everyone feeling tonight?!" a loud drunken applause came in response from the crowd. " Great cuz we're nearing the end of the night." a not so pleased ' aww' responded with one ' boo ' that Y/n hoped wasn't one of her friends. " Alright settle down, let's end the evening off with a slow but sensual number."
Soon enough the band filled the room with a tune that got the crowd coupling onto the dance floor. Some more sober than others but all having a good time. Y/n couldn't help the tinge of envy at seeing all of them so happy. But they were pleasantly surprised when they noticed the wolf extending a hand ( paw?? ) to them.
" I know it's a bit on the nose. But would you mind if I played the part of your wolf tonight?" he asked. His hood was off now, revealing cute slightly lowered ears that looked soft to the touch and ruby eyes filled a hint of vulnerability. How could Y/n say no to such an adorable face.
They smiled and took his hand. It was much colder than expected but still a little warm. His obsidian claws gently clutched the back of their hand, careful not to scratch.
" I wouldn't mind at all."
They joined the rest on the dance floor. His other hand pulled them in by their waist just enough to leave some space in-between them as they swayed to and fro. From the outside perspective they made quite the pair. Their cloaks flowed into a wonderful shade of red and black with every spin. Onlookers thought that the two were apart of a couples costume and hadn't just met. Y/n didn't notice any of them, even her friends who caught sight of them after not finding them at their stool. No Y/n didn't notice at all because they got lost in the wolf's red eyes again. Would any paint be vibrant enough to replicate its color?
" You know. You seem really familiar. Have we met before?" he asked, looking down at them while still taking the lead with ease.
" I would've remembered if we met before." those eyes were unforgettable, unless they were contacts, but his voice surely was real and no way in hell they'd forget it. " I've been in the newspaper a few times though." they said sheepishly.
" Wait...are you Y/n L/n?"
They nodded, kind of surprised that he guessed correctly that fast.
" Oh man I knew it! I love your work by the way. It's mesmerizing."
Y/n's pride and joy began to rise.
" Really?"
" Of course. You capture the radiance of life that most people overlook."
" Huh. I've never though of it that way. Thank you."
" No thanks needed. I'm merely speaking the truth. I'm glad that you're taking a break. You've done so much over the years."
Y/n's mood immediately dropped and they looked away, going back to the dark place they had been in not too long ago. The wolf caught on.
" Are you alright, Y/n?" he asked. They could clearly hear his concern. He deserved an honest explanation.
" I'm not taking a break," they admitted. " I'm stuck."
" Isn't that the same thing?"
" No. Breaks are by choice. This is different. I can't get out of this rut no matter how hard I try."
" Then don't try. Just don't make anything and let it come naturally."
" What? I can't do that."
" Why?"
They were starting to get really upset now. Why didn't he get it.
" Because I'd be letting everyone down." they met his gaze. Despite how much he seemed to not understand, his stare was serious and knowing.
" Wouldn't letting yourself down be more important?"
Y/n felt everything stop, realizations and questions coming in at once. It took them a while to notice that the music had stopped, everyone was getting ready to leave, yet the wolf held onto them until their thoughts settled.
" I think your friends are coming to get you." they followed his gaze behind them and sure enough, the gang was approaching. " If you're not busy later tonight. Come meet me by the woods. There's something I want to show you."
He kissed the top of their hand before letting them go and departing swiftly from the tavern like a shadow.
Y/n's group wanted all the details on the mystery wolf but were a bit too tipsy and tired to keep up. Y/n wanted to get everyone home safely, but the responsible parent friend of the group took charge. They heard the wolf's proposition and sent Y/n on their way to finally getting some action. But not before a stern talk about strangers, and safety and giving them a pocket dagger. Honestly Y/n could ask for better friends.
As promised. The wolf was waiting by the woods, cloak flowing in the wind. He smiled when saw them. He offered them a hand and they took it once again.
" I have a confession to make." he said as the two strolled through the forest.
" Yeah?" they couldn't help but stare at how the moonlight perfectly illuminated his fur. It was as if he was made for the night.
" I wasn't smelling your drink..."
Y/n stared at him confused and thought for a minute. It hit them once they saw the mischevious look in his eyes. Heat began to rise to their face. He chuckled at their dumbfounded look.
" The words slipped out before I could stop them so I tried to cover myself. To my luck the drink was sweet too."
" I can't believe you'd sniff a total stranger." they palmed their face with their free hand that had been chilled by the night air.
" Well technically I didn't have to try. My nose is pretty strong. Though I will admit there was some conscious effort. People with scents of life like yours due tend to catch my attention."
" Scents of life?" they asked as the wolf took the lead in front to guide them through a narrow path of trees.
" Yes. It's a bit complex but I'd describe it as a mix of sunflowers, lilies and tulips but," he glanced back at them," yours has an extra hint of vanilla, very soft and sweet."
The heat that had started to fade came back with full force to Y/n's face. They weren't wearing anything that smelled like that. There's no way they'd have a natural scent like it either.
" That's nice but I doubt I smell like that."
The wolf let go of their hand to jump down a sizable dip in the path.
" Trust me you do." he held out his arms to them. Although unsure at first if he could support their weight, they soon jumped down. Once caught, the wolf held them close to his chest, gaze deep and grin wide. " You possess the sweetness of life that I adore dearly."
There was no doubting his truthfulness with the look in his eyes and softness of his voice. Y/n was content enough in the moment that they wished it lasted longer but he put them down and lead the way again.
" Unfortunately it's starting to fade away. Which is why I've brought you here."
Before they could ask they saw the answer in front of them. They were on a small cliff and beyond it was the expanse of the forest with a valley in the center. Y/n was already entranced by the breathtaking view before they noticed light begin to peek over the horizon.
" Ah we're just in time." said the wolf at their side, leaning against a tree arms folded.
The sun slowly rose, chasing away the dark. The valley began to wake with a new life, colors coming forth as flowers bloomed. With the sun came warmth as well, getting rid of the chill that Y/n had gotten use to. They weren't sure how long they stood there, but birds started to sing as the night turned to morning. It was all so beautiful that they wanted to find the words, write the words and maybe even paint them, but as usual nothing came.
" You see Y/n. I think I know what's got you stuck," the wolf began, Y/n had almost forgot he was there. " You began creating things for the enjoyment of yourself. Those creations then became joy for others. But as time went by, you started to only create to make others happy. To fit their expectations. You used up more of yourself than most people do in their lifetimes. Am I making sense for far."
They nodded, still unable speak.
" It's a frustrating dilemma. Frightening even. But take the sun for example," he gestured to the light that was now brighter than before," It's a creator too. It's light gives way for all sorts of life to prosper. Yet at times it can be too much for some to handle. Or perhaps a few clouds get in the way and it's light can't shine through. And in moments like this, it creates little things that most wouldn't know to appreciate. Even so, the sun doesn't care. It travels across the sky shining endlessly."
He walks up to them, places a hand on their face and wipes away tears they hadn't noticed were falling.
" You need to create for yourself. Whether you feel its good enough or not I'm sure people will love it. And if not, you'll have more than enough love for it. Just go easy on yourself and take your time."
" But...what if I'm running out of time?" their voice came out quiet and shaky.
The wolf continued to hold their face. He held a gaze so caring that they wanted to melt into him.
" Don't worry. You're not going anywhere any time soon."
While Y/n almost took that assurance as normal, wanting to remain in the bliss of the moment, something was different about it. In fact everything felt different about him. Wait who the hell was he anyway?!
" Who are you?"
His smile dropped into a frown, as if he wanted to stay in the bliss of the moment as well. But this was reality and they deserved the truth.
" I'm Death."
There was a long moment of silence, both remained still. As if reading their mind he continued.
" Yes seriously. And no I'm not messing with you this time."
Y/n managed to find their composure.
" Wow uh...nice to meet you."
" Hah, you're taking this well."
" Not sure how else I'm supposed to take it. Might freak out later though."
He laughed again. His hands had traveled down to theirs without them knowing. They didn't mind. They found comfort in them despite now knowing why they were so cold for someone with fur.
" That's very kind of you. It's always nice having some be calm around me. Though I'm sure you know that I mean you no harm."
" Yeah," they smiled up at him, " You've helped me a lot actually. I think my spark's returning."
" Good," he let them go, going back a few steps, " Then my work here is done."
" Wait!" they grab his hands. " You're leaving?"
Death's shock of their suddenness then turned to a saddened look.
" Yes. I've already interfered more than I should. It would be best if I go now. I'm sorry. I was really having a lot of fun with you."
" Then stay a little longer." they pulled him in closer. " Please?"
" I..." he hesitated, pondering over something he knew he shouldn't. " I'll always be around so I could come visit when I can."
Y/n beamed with joy.
" That would be great. I look forward to it." though they couldn't help but push further. " But are you sure you can't stay a little longer right now?"
Death thought on it. He knew he should say no. He'd already been taking too long of a break. But their eyes were pleading to him and their hands were so warm. The souls of the dead weren't going anywhere he supposed, but it'd be a lot of overtime.
" I guess, but on one condition."
" Anything."
He regained his signature sly grin and leaned in closer.
" I want to be the first one to see what you create next."
They gave him a warm smile in return.
" I'd love to. I think I'm writing mood right now."
" Oh?," Death's ears perked up and his tail wagged a bit. " I hope it's another novel then."
" Huh, I didn't peg you for the YA type."
" Yes I like those too but I was thinking of your other ones."
" What other o-" then it hit them. " No..."
Death grinned, fangs and all.
" Yes."
" No. Oh no! You read those?!" they put their flaming face in their palms, silently cursing their friends for convincing them to publish those spicy books. " Oh god I could die right now."
Death laughed and pulled them into his chest, giving comforting pats on the back.
" Sorry that won't be happening anytime soon. And I'm having too much fun with you anyway."
That morning Y/n went from someone who feared Death to someone who welcomed him. They learned surprising things about him as well. Like how his fur was so soft, he liked to be scratched behind the ears and he tasted oddly of cherries.
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