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wilwheaton · 1 year

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When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw exploitation #child actor #still just a geek #lucio fulci #trauma survivor #speaking up for the child who was silenced by his abusers

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babyjakes · 10 months

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | sex shop

pairing | sex shop owner!andy barber x innocent!reader

warnings | age gap (reader sees andy as a total dilf.) reader is very innocent and also so scared to be there (understandably.) soft!andy, comforting vibes, he talks her through everything. humiliation kink is strong in this one. no real smut, just suggestive themes (sex shop, toys, talks of solo and guided masturbation.)

word count | 987

an | this little story is dedicated to andy's #1 girl, @worksby-d 🥺 dest i super hope you enjoy our favorite dilf here!! i tried to make him the big warm teddy bear we know and love, with a little hint of naughtiness shining through at the end hehe <3 happy holidays to you friend!!

imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏

parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺

eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight

the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening

please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-

your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭

there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”

your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together

andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)

but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...

you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond

“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”

your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”

he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"

you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”

“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”

you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet

you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers

you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease

“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree

“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”

i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠

#eun's writing #kinkmas 2023 #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber headcanon #andy barber drabble #andy barber blurb #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut

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fabaulti · 1 year

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I think most of us should take the whole ai scraping situation as a sign that we should maybe stop giving google/facebook/big corps all our data and look into alternatives that actually value your privacy.

i know this is easier said than done because everybody under the sun seems to use these services, but I promise you it’s not impossible. In fact, I made a list of a few alternatives to popular apps and services, alternatives that are privacy first, open source and don’t sell your data.

right off the bat I suggest you stop using gmail. it’s trash and not secure at all. google can read your emails. in fact, google has acces to all the data on your account and while what they do with it is already shady, I don’t even want to know what the whole ai situation is going to bring. a good alternative to a few google services is skiff. they provide a secure, e3ee mail service along with a workspace that can easily import google documents, a calendar and 10 gb free storage. i’ve been using it for a while and it’s great.

a good alternative to google drive is either koofr or filen. I use filen because everything you upload on there is end to end encrypted with zero knowledge. they offer 10 gb of free storage and really affordable lifetime plans.

google docs? i don’t know her. instead, try cryptpad. I don’t have the spoons to list all the great features of this service, you just have to believe me. nothing you write there will be used to train ai and you can share it just as easily. if skiff is too limited for you and you also need stuff like sheets or forms, cryptpad is here for you. the only downside i could think of is that they don’t have a mobile app, but the site works great in a browser too.

since there is no real alternative to youtube I recommend watching your little slime videos through a streaming frontend like freetube or new pipe. besides the fact that they remove ads, they also stop google from tracking what you watch. there is a bit of functionality loss with these services, but if you just want to watch videos privately they’re great.

if you’re looking for an alternative to google photos that is secure and end to end encrypted you might want to look into stingle, although in my experience filen’s photos tab works pretty well too.

oh, also, for the love of god, stop using whatsapp, facebook messenger or instagram for messaging. just stop. signal and telegram are literally here and they’re free. spread the word, educate your friends, ask them if they really want anyone to snoop around their private conversations.

regarding browser, you know the drill. throw google chrome/edge in the trash (they really basically spyware disguised as browsers) and download either librewolf or brave. mozilla can be a great secure option too, with a bit of tinkering.

if you wanna get a vpn (and I recommend you do) be wary that some of them are scammy. do your research, read their terms and conditions, familiarise yourself with their model. if you don’t wanna do that and are willing to trust my word, go with mullvad. they don’t keep any logs. it’s 5 euros a month with no different pricing plans or other bullshit.

lastly, whatever alternative you decide on, what matters most is that you don’t keep all your data in one place. don’t trust a service to take care of your emails, documents, photos and messages. store all these things in different, trustworthy (preferably open source) places. there is absolutely no reason google has to know everything about you.

do your own research as well, don’t just trust the first vpn service your favourite youtube gets sponsored by. don’t trust random tech blogs to tell you what the best cloud storage service is — they get good money for advertising one or the other. compare shit on your own or ask a tech savvy friend to help you. you’ve got this.

#internet privacy #privacy #vpn #google docs #ai scraping #psa #ai #archive of our own #ao3 writer #mine #textpost

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tossawary · 10 months

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Every time I see or otherwise imagine a Daemon AU (a story borrowing the concept of "physical soul animals" from the "His Dark Materials" book series), I get distracted thinking about aaaaall the logistical issues and cultural changes that would happen if the world was different in this way. Especially if it's a story that's set in the modern day!

Mostly, I'm distracted by cultural changes that are, uh, let's go with "silly". Like, I think people would put in cat doors and ramps for their daemons. I think people would put their turtle daemons on hot wheel cars and let their rat daemons drive miniature cars. I think some miserable people would be unreasonably outraged by "assistive devices" for daemons and call it unnatural. I think people would post online like, "I just watched my grandma's elderly dog daemon spend ten minutes trying to climb onto the couch." I think that there would be Tumblr polls asking: "Are daemons allowed on the furniture in your house?" And some people would be like, "Absolutely not, that's disgusting," and other people would be like, "Yes?! Of course?!?!?!"

I think some people would put their daemons in outfits. I think some people would wear MATCHING outfits with their daemons. I think there would be a huge market for daemon accessories like collars and scarves. I think you could find someone who would argue to their dying breath that putting a collar on your daemon is a form of abusing yourself. I think there would be daemons who would straight up hate wearing anything, especially the daemons of young children, and shed collars immediately. I think some people would get their daemon's ears pierced.

I think people would take photos of their daemons getting stuck in stupid places. I think people would take photos of their daemons making silly expressions. I think these photos would be used as memes. I think this would be included in the "don't take photos of strangers and post them online???" arguments. I think some people would try to get animals that are the same as their daemon forms so that their daemon could have a "friend". I think the exotic pet trade in this world would be horrible, especially in relation to modelling and acting industries, and that some people and their daemons would work as "substitute daemon actors".

I think that people would judge other people based on their daemons, sure. I also think that daemons are incorporated into things like astrology and matchmaking in ways that our world can't imagine. "Oh, I only date guys with dog daemons. Guys with cat daemons are too feminine," would be a constant sexist / homophobic sitcom joke and also a real thing people would say. There would be sex books written taking daemons into account and I'm not going to get into it more than that except to say...

The furry "discourse" that must exist in a Modern Daemon AU is operating on a level that we cannot possibly fathom.

Most of this stuff is not relevant for most Daemon AUs, but I feel like when doing any kind of cultural worldbuilding, we must face the fact that many people love and hate nothing more than to sincerely and insincerely get into extensive Twitter arguments over pointless bullshit. And also, on a lighter note, that "Draw yourself and your daemon!" would be a classic Day 1 of school activity for children. Confession blogs would have people saying, "My mom and aunt and grandma all have parrot daemons, so until I was four, I genuinely thought all women had bird daemons. When I met a woman with an iguana daemon in a grocery store, I asked her what kind of bird it was supposed to be. My mom has laughingly brought it up every few weeks for the past twenty years."

#tossawary hdm #sit with your soul #long post #fic ideas #reblogs off

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bvidzsoo · 2 months

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (11)

ー☆ Chapter 11: Alkaline

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: none, just a load of fluff hehet ー☆ Word count: 9k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Aaand the new chapter is here! Hi lovelies, as promised, no more waiting a month for updates. I am so excited to hear what you thought of this chapter as OMG was I dying writing it LOL. I didn't think it would turn out to be my favorite, but here we are...there's a lot of realizations happening in this chapter ahaha. I hope you enjoy it and please listen to Alkaline before or while reading this story, however for once, I think it would be smart to listen to it before as...this is a little insight...but the lyrics reflect Mingi's thoughts so well, so keep that in mind too!^^ I hope you enjoy and lmk what you've thought of chapter 11! <3

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Staring up at the unknown building as the Honda’s engine got cut off, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I pouted as I craned my neck to look up through the window at the not too tall structure, wondering where in the hell we were. I heard Mingi unbuckle his seatbelt and then snort, making me look over at him.

“You look like your parents forgot it’s Christmas and didn’t buy you a present.” He noted, making my pout deepen as that sort of has happened when I was a lot younger compared to now.

“I only have a mom…” Mingi’s face fell for a second as I sighed, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Where are we?”

“Uh,” Mingi gulped, cheeks tinged red as he averted his eyes, “my place.”

A beat of silence passed as my eyebrows furrowed. I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw another glare at Mingi, “But I said I didn’t want to go home.”

“Exactly,” Suddenly, he was beaming as he faced me again, “and so, I didn’t take you to your home! It’s my home.”

Well, he’s got the spirit but his logic was faulty. I pursed my lips, suddenly curious of what his place looked like, the alcohol having dissipated from my body, preventing me from being a whiney child that was inconveniencing Mingi, not that he seemed too irked by my previous behavior at the pub.

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?” Mingi chuckled, opening his side of the door, “I live on my own, come on.”

I huffed and opened my door as well, feeling a small blush spread onto my cheeks. Was I seriously about to go inside Mingi’s apartment in the middle of the night? And why did I not find the idea alarming or repulsive? There must be something very wrong with me if I willingly follow him up to his apartment without creating even the smallest fuss, “Will you just stand there all night?”

I narrowed my eyes at Mingi and crossed my arms as I closed his Honda’s door, finally letting him lock his car as he chuckled, “I wanted to do something fun.”

“Well, doll, most places are already closed in our little town.” He said with a shrug, placing an arm against the side of the car, leaning his weight on it, “But I guess we could hang out at a convenience store like raunchy teenagers or something—”

“No, that’s outdated!” I cut him off, eyebrows furrowing at the stupid idea. I was well past the age of hanging out in front of convenience stores and causing trouble. Mingi sighed, pushing off the car as he walked around it, approaching me with a gentle expression on his face. I gulped and fixed my posture, pushing my hair behind my shoulders as I suddenly felt nervous due to our proximity. What has gotten into me? The memory of his lips pressing against the corner of my mouth was rather fresh in my mind, and I had to avert my eyes as I wasn’t used to Mingi’s platinum blonde hair yet; it made my stomach coil in a weird way.

“If you’re uncomfortable coming inside my apartment, you can say so, Y/N. I thought we are always direct with each other.” Well, he’s not wrong about that. We are direct with each other, transparent even, as long as it’s not about our feelings. I cursed myself for the direction my thoughts started straying towards and instead looked at him, feeling a little shy, and smiled.

“No, it’s good, we can go.” Mingi didn’t seem too convinced so I sighed and slowly reached out for his hand, “I want to, Mingi.”

“Great!” I have barely finished my sentence as his face lit up with happiness, thick fingers lacing with mine as he pulled me towards the entrance of the building. I chuckled as I followed after him blindly, amused by how easy it was to please this guy. He seemed to get enthusiastic about the smallest things, most frequently when things went his way. I tried to ignore the persistent flush of my cheeks as Mingi led us inside the building by our interlaced fingers and guided us towards the stairs, fishing his keys out of his jean’s pocket. We didn’t say much as we tried to be quiet, and that unfortunately allowed my mind to wander towards thoughts it shouldn’t have. Like Mingi’s tall built and how ravishing he looked in tonight’s outfit for the performance. Or the rawness of his voice whenever he closed his eyes and sung from deep within his soul. The way his nose scrunched whenever he got lost in the music as he stayed on beat while relaying the lyrics. Or the fact that his hair had gotten longer and instead of cutting it, he decided to dye it a platinum blonde which made his features sharper than I thought they were. It made my throat dry as I remembered what his body close by felt like, his warmth, the familiar cologne, the way his eyes crinkled, and crooked front teeth showed whenever he smiled too wide.

I grimaced as I slammed into Mingi’s back, instantly flushing even more as he looked over his shoulder with a chuckle. We have arrived in front of a white door with the numbers 18 on it, and so lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice that Mingi had stopped as he was trying to unlock the door. As if lightning zapped me, I released his hand and cleared my throat, running my fingers through my hair. Was it a smart idea coming here if I couldn’t even control my own thoughts?

“Welcome to my little lair.” Mingi’s voice held amusement as he pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting me enter first. I thanked him quietly and gulped as I mustered up any final courage that I needed to not run back down the stairs and hail a cab, and entered his apartment. It was dark, but only for a second as Mingi’s hand reached for the light switch, and then the door was closed behind us, locked and secured, making my heart race as we were now on our own, in the confines of his safe haven, “Don’t mind the mess, I didn’t expect visitors tonight.”

He seemed a little embarrassed as he stepped out of his boots, rubbing the back of his head as I followed his lead and untied my own boots, glad to have them off my feet—they were rather heavy. He leaned down to fetch us flip flops, and I smiled as he pushed one towards me before he wore his. The flip flops were a tad bit bigger than my own feet, but it wasn’t difficult to walk around in them. Mingi seemed to fiddle with his fingers for a second before he walked towards his sofa, grabbing the blanket off it to fold it nicely and place it back on it neatly. The living room space and kitchen were one big room. The walls were white and the floorboards light, the window open as the white curtains were pulled aside to let in the chilly air of the night. A TV on a stand was placed underneath the window, a huge plant in the left corner of the room, and an electric piano in the right corner, the wall above it lined with shelves and a ton amount of books and mangas that I had no idea how Mingi managed to store there—the place was rather small and stuffed. I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on the framed pictures, but it was hard to mistake the familiar photo of Yunho and Mingi hugging when I’ve seen it so many times before. Then, not too far from the TV, a coffee table and a sofa were placed facing it, and Mingi scrambled around to gather a few empty soda cans off the coffee table, shooting me an apologetic smile as he rushed to the kitchen’s side, throwing them away into the trashcan. His kitchen was small but cozy, the cupboards a dark wooden color, looking rather nice. The table was round and spacious, Mingi’s laptop and notebooks strewn across it, as well as some forgotten croissant that looked a bit too old to eat. I noticed the wall to my right was decorated with framed records and snippets of lyrics from probably his favorite artists, and I smiled as I noticed a quote that I knew too well, ‘Art is a line around your thoughts’.

“I had no idea you knew Gustav Klimt?” I muttered bewildered, walking towards the piece of paper that was plastered onto the white wall. Mingi made a surprised noise, and I felt his eyes on me as I traced the words with my fingertips.

“He’s my favorite painter.” Mingi answered with a chuckle, making my eyes widen as I faced him. How come he’s never mentioned that before? I didn’t even think for one second he enjoyed fine art like I did.

“Really?” I sounded a little breathless as Mingi smiled warmly, shrugging off his jacket, which had me forgetting all about Gustav Klimt as my eyes fell on his bare biceps. Fuck, I can’t be checking him out again. He’s just a man and he’s got arms like everyone else, and it’s not like I haven’t seen muscles before. Why must I act like a Victorian man when he sees ankles?! This was rather embarrassing, and much to my dread, I knew Mingi saw me checking him out again as an amused smirk sneaked onto his lips, one eyebrow raised.

“Really.” He answered, voice a few octaves deeper and I crossed my arms in front of my chest, giving him a challenging look. If he was so confident in himself, shouldn’t he call me out for salivating after him all night? Make me more embarrassed or something, “I’m kind of fed up with these clothes, would you like to change into something more comfortable?”

I hummed and nodded, shrugging off my own leather jacket, not oblivious to the way Mingi’s eyes widened slightly, the flush on his cheeks instant. I tried to stifle a giggle as I tied my hair in a low bun, giving him a soft smile, “Do you mind if I also shower? I’ve danced around all night long…”

“Sure, no problem!” Mingi’s voice was higher pitched and it sounded panicked for a second as he scrambled inside another room, which upon flooded with light proved to be his bedroom. I caught myself grinning widely and then instantly frowned, trying to calm my nervous heartbeat as I watched Mingi throw open a huge closet and rummage through it. The prospect of having to wear his clothes dawned on me just now, and I felt like sticking my head out the window for the cool air to calm my flushed cheeks. I feel like I’ve been blushing ever since I stepped out of his car, and that was embarrassing. These emotions and thoughts were very unlike me, the last time I remember being like this was when…I had that stupid crush on Yunho. A lump seemed to form in my throat at the sudden thought of Yunho, skin crawling now that I realized I was standing in his best friend’s apartment, very probably about to have a sleepover with him. But Mingi and I were friends, there was nothing weird about hanging out at one’s place and spending the night over too. If it would have been weird or inappropriate, Mingi wouldn’t have brought me over. It was weird to realize just now that I completely trusted him and felt safe around him, not having to wonder whether his motives were genuine or not.

Mingi suddenly appeared in the doorway of his room clearing his throat as he glanced down at the clothes in his hands, “I, uh, I hope these will fit you.”

“Thank you.” I smiled as I walked over, feeling my heart go crazy as it started beating even faster, making me so embarrassed I wanted to hide away for an eternity. Mingi avoided eye contact, which was good because I couldn’t handle it at the moment, as he handed me over the clothes and then led me towards a closed door, turning on the light for me.

“There’s clean towels in the cupboard and some make-up remover too.” When I gave Mingi a questioning gaze, completely forgetting that he liked to wear eye makeup, he quickly scrambled to explain himself, “Oh, you know…sometimes Seonghwa sleeps over and he’s always wearing make-up so he left it here for me, since…I also wear some at times…”

“Right.” I chuckled, feeling silly for having Mingi explain such insignificant thing, but unfortunately, my thoughts had strayed to different scenarios, and I was a little irritated for feeling reassured upon hearing his explanation, “I won’t take long, promise.”

Mingi hummed and I quickly hurried inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself hastily as I leaned against it and released a long breath I didn’t realized I had been holding. God, it was becoming more and more difficult to behave like a normal being. There was no reason for my heart to race like this, nor was there any reason to be nervous around Mingi. I was merely spending the night, and it was going to be fun, since we’re friends.

True to my word, I quickly cleaned up, rather pleased upon seeing so many skincare products in Mingi’s cupboard; it’s always nice when a man takes care of himself and cleans up well. The fact that I had to shower with the body wash Mingi uses, and afterwards wear his clothes that had the familiar scent of the softener he uses was…challenging to digest, but because I didn’t want to spiral into a full-blown panic attack, I decided to ignore it, and analyze it another time—when I was preferably alone and not in Mingi’s bathroom. The grey sweatpants he had given me were, obviously, way too big, but he was thoughtful enough to give me one that had strings and I could tie them securely around my hips, the white t-shirt, as expected again, loose around my body, making me look smaller than I was. I have never felt small before in men’s clothing, and it was contrasting with how I have always looked when wearing Yunho’s clothes.

After having walked out of the bathroom, before I could say much, Mingi stormed past me inside the bathroom too, muttering something about not taking long either and that I could drink some water and snack on the chips he had placed on the coffee table. Deciding to wait for him in the living room, on the sofa, I texted my mother that I would be back in the morning as I decided to sleep over at a friend’s house, purposefully leaving out Mingi’s name as I knew she’d go crazy with her questions. I could only hope she wouldn’t text Seulgi, who knew where I actually was.

Mingi, done in under ten minutes, had a towel around his head—much like when he had showered at my place—and I watched from the sofa with big eyes as he opened the bathroom’s door, humming absentmindedly as he struggled to wear his flip flops. I gulped, unable to stop my eyes from raking over his body as he started towel drying his hair, still oblivious to my insistent staring. He wore khaki-colored sweatpants and a loose grey t-shirts, its sleeves reaching just above his elbows and the end past his waistline. His black tinged nails were rather contrasting against the white towel he had finally lowered from his head, and he jumped when he saw me looking, as if he had forgotten that I was here.

“Hi.” I muttered with a giggle, completely ignoring the fact that I was blushing again. Mingi froze for a second before he grinned widely, shaking the platinum hair out of his eyes. It was still damp as it fell flatly against his head, the ends poking out in different directions at his nape.

“Let’s go to bed?” Mingi suggested, sounding rather unsure as I hummed and stood up, wearing my flip flops as he placed the towel on the back of a chair and then switched off the lights, leading the way to his bedroom as I shuffled after him, heartbeat once again starting to pick up its rhythm. I placed my hands behind my back and fidgeted with my fingers, hoping Mingi wouldn’t pick up on my nervousness as he switched on the bedside lamp, clearing his throat as he turned to face me. For some reason, he couldn’t hold eye contact, and so, I took advantage of that and quickly checked out his room. It was simple, much like the rest of the apartment, with its walls white and floorboards light in color, a black fluffy rug placed under his double-sized bed, which was right across from the door. There was a black closet to the left, with a beanbag pressed to the corner and three guitars lined up against the wall. To the right, however, as you entered his room, was a large desk with equipment that he probably used for recording his songs, notebooks laying open with a half-eaten burger in a plate next to them. A few more pictures were hung up on the wall, but I quickly averted my eyes out of fear of spotting Yunho again.

“Uh, so…” Mingi rubbed the back of his head, looking down at the bed before he sneaked a glance at me, “I could sleep in the living room if you don’t want to share a bed with me.”

“Yeah, that’s cool with me.” I said in a serious tone, watching as Mingi paused for a second, looking surprised that I was about to make him sleep on the sofa. But to my surprise, he said nothing else as he went to pick up his pillow, making me chuckle, “I’m just fucking with you, Mings, you don’t have to sleep on the sofa, it looks uncomfortable for a tall person either way. It’s not my first time sleeping next to a guy, you know…”

Mingi chuckled, trying to hide his face as he turned around, his cheeks slightly flushed, “Ah, right, I forgot you had a dickhead boyfriend that made you hate men—”

“That’s not completely true.” I cut him off, crossing my arms in front of my chest defensively, “I mean, he was a dickhead, but it’s not just his fault, you know.”

It felt weird bashing Yunho all of a sudden, especially since Mingi was unknowingly talking about his best friend. I didn’t want him to say something that he’d regret if he ever were to find out my ex is his best friend, it just didn’t feel right.

“You really think all men are like that, huh?” Mingi raised an eyebrow as he pulled the covers back and plopped down on his bed, bouncing on the mattress as he stared at me expectantly. I gulped and shuffled closer, feeling nervous again as his eyes were glued to my form, perhaps lingering a bit too much on the t-shirt and sweatpants I was wearing. I slowly sat on his bed, struggling to breath regularly as Mingi’s familiar scent was even stronger now, vanilla mixed with something flowery, the softener he used, no doubt. If anyone would’ve told me two months ago that I’d be sharing a bed with Mingi, in his apartment, I would’ve laughed in their face and suggested a visit to the psychic ward. But right now, it was as real as it could get, and I subtly had to pinch my arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, or hallucinating in a drunken stupor. But I wasn’t drunk anymore, hadn’t been for a while now, and the shower too made sure to sober me up completely. My alcohol tolerance was pretty good, and the key for me to remain drunk was continuously drinking, once I stopped, an hour tops and I was all sobered up no matter how much I had drunk previously.

“Most are.” I muttered as I shimmied my bare feet underneath the cold covers, hiding them underneath as they always got cold rather quickly. Mingi chuckled as he adjusted himself as well, pulling up the covers to our waists as he turned his head to look over at me. Silence settled over us and I chewed on my bottom lip, watching from the corner of my eyes as his eyes bore into the side of my face as he bit the inside of his cheek. He seemed to be mulling over something as he raised his left hand and rubbed at his chin, pressing his fingers against his lip. Overwhelmed with the memory of his lips pressing so close to mine, I flopped backwards and prayed for the covers of his bed to swallow me up and hand me over to the monster underneath his bed. But that, obviously, didn’t happen as Mingi gulped rather loudly, laying down too on his side as he first adjusted the covers, pulling it up to our chests.

“Well, I suppose we’re both tired.” He whispered and I hummed, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart as the room was suddenly coated into darkness as Mingi switched the lamp off. I released a long breath as quietly as I could as Mingi lay on his back, mirroring my position, as we stared up at his dark ceiling. He raised his hands and intertwined them as he let them rest over his chest, and I raised one arm and placed it over my head as I started twirling a strand of my hair. I couldn’t lay still and I feared Mingi could hear the annoying way my heart was racing, making me feel too warm under the thick covers. His scent was too strong like this, and as I turned my head to the right, facing away from Mingi, I was alarmed to find the pillow smelling strongly of the guy laying next to me in bed. Mingi sighed, although I suppose he meant to do it silently as he stuttered mid-breath and paused, making me chew on my bottom lip as I tried not to laugh. Everything about this was so awkward, it made my skin crawl as I couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” I spoke up, voice shaky for some reason, and I felt Mingi’s head turn as he looked at me despite the darkness of the room, “I never asked why your band name is Noir Zenith.”

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Mingi chuckled, making me raise my eyebrows as I turned my head to look at him, “you were too busy shitting on me to care about something so insignificant.”

“I—that’s not—” I groaned and Mingi snickered as I closed my eyes, pressing the heel of my palm into them, “Okay, you’re right. And that was rather assholey of me, so—now I’m genuinely interested.”

“Wow,” Mingi breathed, grinning from ear to ear as I opened my eyes, finding his beaming with something I couldn’t exactly understand, “you actually admitted to being an asshole to me?!”

“I’m not saying it again, so savour it while you can, pretty boy—” Massive fuck. The silence that settled upon us again was mortifying and I turned my head away, contemplating about rolling out of his bed and walking myself over to the sofa to sleep on for the night. I couldn’t face Mingi, and maybe it was better as his tone was laced with smugness and excitement.

“Pretty boy, huh?” He snickered, and I groaned loudly for him to hear, “First you admit I’m hot, then that I’m somewhat attractive, and now that I’m a pretty boy?! I feel like I’m living every man’s dream over here—”

“I think I have asked you a question, Song Mingi.” I snapped as I turned to lay on my side to face him, eyes narrowed at a smirking Mingi, only making him look smugger than he was before, “Don’t change the subject.”

“It’s a little hard when a gorgeous girl calls me pretty boy—” I groaned loudly, pressing my hands against my ears as Mingi started cackling, kicking his legs as if he was a little boy. My eyebrows furrowed as I gave him an incredulous look, making him giggle as he suddenly turned onto his side too, coming face to face with me. I gasped quietly, our faces just a little bit too close for comfort, but Mingi quickly shuffled slightly backwards, making me release a quiet breath as my heart was racing for the nth time at this point tonight.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Mingi grinned as his left hand settled between us, laying palm down against the mattress. I could only hope he didn’t notice my eyes linger on his painted nails as his fingers were ring free for the first time since we’ve known each other, “As you might have realized, I’m the founder of the band, and despite Seonghwa, Wooyoung and I being a team, I knew what I wanted my band’s name to be before I even met them.”

I hummed as I listened closely to Mingi, resting my hands underneath my head, completely ignoring the fact that the pinkie of my right hand was lightly brushing against Mingi’s forefinger, “Noir means black in French, right? And thus, I associate it with darkness and pain, yearning for something you no longer have, loneliness, and fear. Zenith, meanwhile, means the highest point reached in the heavens by a celestial body or simply a culminating point. In the context of our band’s name, however, I use it as the highest point of when you feel hurt, when the darkness gets to you, the point where it feels like there’s no return anymore, that nothing and nobody can help you anymore. The first song I ever wrote—you know it, you’ve heard it—is the lowest I’ve ever been. Ever since then, after experimenting enough, I have realized I am inspired most at my highest—or maybe some would say lowest—points, no matter what I’m feeling. I write best when I’m feeling the most…is basically what I’m trying to say. I hope I’m making sense; this is the first time besides my friends that someone’s asked what the name means…”

I took a deep breath and slowly released it, feeling an immense warmth spread through my chest, close to the feeling of adoration and admiration. I gulped, pondering whether I should do what my body desired to do, and in the end, the intrusive thoughts won over as I slowly sneaked my palm over the back of Mingi’s hand, holding onto it gently, “It makes sense, I know what you’re saying.”

I kept my eyes on our hands as I felt warm all over, too shy to suddenly look at Mingi as he lowly hummed, flipping his hand around to interlace our fingers, “When my emotions get too overwhelming, I grab my sketchbook, or a canvas, and start painting. It doesn’t matter what I’m feeling, the point is to empty my mind and let through whatever it is I’m experiencing. My goal, mostly, is to numb my mind and silence my thoughts.”

“Do you often feel overwhelmed?” Mingi’s voice was quiet, shaky a bit and my eyes snapped up, taking in his face as he was biting his lower lip, eyebrows furrowed. He looked troubled, but somehow serene at the same time, like he was thinking of something he couldn’t make sense of yet.

“Yes.” I chuckled and shrugged, absentmindedly rubbing circles against his knuckle, “My mind is a mess at all times, Mings, it takes a lot to silence it. Especially when I’m dealing with emotions that I don’t know how to navigate. I’m afraid of feeling too much because I fear it will consume me, turn me headless, and make me fall deeper into that feeling, blinding me to the faults of the other person.”

“You’re afraid to fall in love.” Mingi whispered and I gulped, never having said it out loud before, but also never having had anyone else point it out. Not even Seulgi, who knew me like the back of her hand. I nodded, our gazes meeting as Mingi had an understanding look in his eyes, as if he knew the feeling.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid of many things.” I muttered, lightening the atmosphere as Mingi chuckled, giving a squeeze to my hand as I hid my face in the pillow, giggling quietly.

“I knew you were just trying to impress people with your fearless bravado.” Mingi teased, narrowing his eyes playfully as I scoffed.

“But I am fearless, it seems like you don’t know me too well.” I raised my eyebrows at Mingi as he gasped, feigning hurt, “Impressing others is the last thing on my mind.”

“Perhaps,” Mingi hummed, suddenly turning serious and making my cheeks heat up with the intense way he was looking at me, “but you certainly know how to leave an impression on someone.”

I paused, mouth opening to say something, but I found myself speechless. Instead, I felt myself blush harder, and I was thankful for the darkness as I knew Mingi couldn’t see the degree of my deep blush despite being close to my face, “Also, you’ve started calling me Mings. I actually love that nickname; Yunho sometimes calls me that.”

Yunho. Something coiled deep in my heart again as the lump was back in my throat and I hummed, gently untangling our hands as I turned back onto my back, running my fingers through my hair. Mingi didn’t move, eyes boring into the side of my face with a confused look in his eyes. I tried not to withdraw myself, but it was hard when I was reminded that the two were best friends, “The little dirt you always have on your cheekbone when you perform—”

“It’s my signature!” Mingi groaned loudly, flopping back onto his back like a child as he kicked with his legs again. I chuckled and bit my lower lip, suddenly realizing that teasing him was rather hilarious.

“It says ‘Fix on’, why?” I giggled as I interlaced my hands behind my nape, resting my head on them.

“Ah, so you have seen it?” Mingi paused for dramatic effect and I nodded, curious to hear his answer, “Well, it’s a lot sillier than the name of our band. I suppose it’s something I wish for others to do, to focus on me when I’m up on the stage, to fixate on me, you know?”

“Sounds like something you’d want, yes.” I muttered, and felt Mingi painlessly kick at my ankle under the convers, making me laugh, “What? You love attention, Mingi, and you can’t even deny it.”

“Well, fine.” Mingi huffed and I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes to see him pouting, “Is that so bad?!”

“Of course not,” I chuckled, turning my head as I fought the glare of my face as my thoughts wandered back to the chick that’s been all over him all night long, “except when you can’t set clear boundaries with your baboons, you know?”

A laugh bubbled past Mingi’s lips, shaking him as my eyebrows furrowed, not finding what I said funny at all, “I still can’t believe you call our fangirls baboons.”

“It’s what they are.” I muttered under my breath with a grimace, turning my head as Mingi suddenly turned his to face me.

“Well, they are nice and they’ve actually helped us become more well-known,” Mingi explained, sounding rather grateful, making me feel bad that I couldn’t stand them, “So, I’m grateful to them.”

“Especially to the blonde one that always clings to you—” I realized my slip up when it was already too late as I felt Mingi press up onto his elbow, leaning a bit over my body as I refused to look at him.

“Doll, besides knowing her name and what she looks like, I have no idea who she is.” He said, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes bore into mine, “And I have no intentions of getting to know her past that level. Like you said, boundaries exist, and I’ve made mine clear with her.”

“That’s why she dies at the sight of you, and is all over you whenever she can.” I huffed and Mingi sighed, reaching out with his left hand as he adjusted my hair, making me freeze.

“I don’t like her.” Hearing him say that made my heart skip a beat, and I averted my eyes, feeling rather pleased to hear him say that, “She’s not the type of girl I’m into.”

I wanted to know what type of girls he was into, but before I could let my tongue slip up again, I nodded wordlessly and searched for a clock. It was on his desk, facing us, and my eyes slightly widened when I realized it was close to 3am, “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Sure.” Mingi whispered, smiling slightly as he settled back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling as I slithered my arms underneath the covers, closing my eyes. It was silent in the room once again, not awkward at all anymore, yet it felt like there was room to say more. I wanted to say more, but I was afraid I would say something that I wasn’t ready yet to voice. What would Yunho think if he knew I was with his best friend? Worst of all, what will Mingi say if he finds out I’m Yunho’s ex? I was scared of both answers, and until I was completely ready to face the consequences of my own actions, I would stall and enjoy my limited time with Mingi. My gut feeling told me it wouldn’t last for too long, the good and happy, it never did. The thoughts weighted heavy on my mind and I released a long sigh at the same time as Mingi, making the ends of my mouth curve up. Seems like I wasn’t the only one plagued with late night thoughts, unable to go to sleep just yet. Deciding that it wouldn’t work with my head so full and my skin still buzzing from being this close to Mingi, in his clothes, in his bed, surrounded by his familiar scent, I sat up abruptly.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” I had barely finished my sentence as Mingi’s eyes flew open, looking at me with a borderline desperate expression, “Kitchen raid?”

“Kitchen raid.” I nodded and showed him a thumbs up as we hurriedly got out of bed, apparently making it a race of who would reach the kitchen first as Mingi failed to wear his flip flops, rushing after me as I yanked his door open with a giggle, and toppled outside as he tried to yank me back by the t-shirt I was wearing. Knocking into my side—but gently—Mingi passed me and cackled mockingly as he reached the round table first, giving me a smug look.

“Did you think you could race me in my own apartment and win?” For a second, I saw Yunho in him as he stood grinning as if this victory meant anything. Yunho was insanely competitive, making everything a game while we were together, often times exhausting me with them; they weren’t my favourite activity. Suddenly, the room was flooded with light as Mingi switched it on.

“What do you have, pretty boy?” I decided to speak up and ignore his teasing, pushing thoughts of Yunho to the back of my mind as a thoughtful look crossed Mingi’s face.

“Well, if you’re hungry we can whip up some eggs or like make a sandwich?” He rubbed the back of his head, not looking too confident, “Or, uh, maybe we could drink something?”

“As long as it’s not alcohol, sure, I’m not hungry either way.” I said as I walked further inside the kitchen, making Mingi’s eyebrows furrow as he turned and walked towards the sink, opening the cupboard above it. He rummaged around and I decided to sit on the counter, swinging my legs as I placed my hands underneath my thighs.

“I have hot chocolate!” Mingi exclaimed in triumph, and I chuckled as he turned around with a grin, holding two plastic bags containing chocolate powder.

“I’d like one serving then, kind sir.” I bowed my head mockingly, making Mingi’s eyebrows raise.

“You’re rather generous with nicknames tonight, Y/N.” He gave me a teasing look as I rolled my eyes, “Is it just the alcohol talking, perhaps?”

“I’m not drunk, Mingi.” I chuckled, watching him move around the kitchen, grabbing mugs and pouring water into them to heat up, “I have a high tolerance.”

“But you were drunk when you were dancing with that guy.” Mingi muttered, grimacing as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I was tipsy, and I quite enjoyed dancing with Chan before you decided to bother us.” I pursed my lips, giving him a pointed look as he stole a glance at me while placing the mugs in the microwave to heat the water up.

“I don’t have whipping cream.” He said as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the microwave hummed quietly. I couldn’t help but smile as he remembered how I liked serving my hot chocolate.

“It’s fine, I think it would be too sweet right now.” I said as Mingi nodded, his gaze becoming intense again as he watched me sit on his counter. I cleared my throat and looked away, pulling my hands from underneath my thighs to cross them over my body in a comforting manner.

“Well, when guys usually dance with you, they want something more too, you know?” Mingi’s voice had dropped a few octaves, and I looked over with narrowed eyes as the microwave dinged.

“Then do you want something more from me too?” I fired back, giving him a displeased look, “You danced with me too, not just Chan.”

Mingi froze as he had just opened the microwave’s little door, eyebrows furrowing as he shot me an unimpressed glance, “What I wanted was for you to be safe and not taken advantage of, Y/N.”

I gulped, suddenly feeling guilty as Mingi looked slightly hurt by my assumption as he took the mugs from the microwave, and closed the little door a little harsher. I couldn’t help but remember the near kiss, and wonder if he hadn’t done it because he thought I was drunk. I bit my bottom lip as I sighed, watching Mingi’s back as he poured the powder into the warm water.

“I—I didn’t mean to assume anything like that, I’m sorry.” I spoke up, licking my lips as Mingi still hadn’t faced me despite reaching for a teaspoon to stir our drinks, “I know you wouldn’t take advantage of me and were only looking out for me, but Chan was just happy to meet someone that was his senior and shared his major.”

Mingi turned as he grabbed the mugs and then approached me, “I guess we have both overreacted tonight, then.”

“Yes.” I chuckled and took the mug he handed me, “Thank you.”

We took a sip of our hot chocolates in unison, humming at the sweet taste bloomed on our tastebuds, giving each other a pleased nod as I took one more sip, blowing on it slightly as it was too warm, “Since we’re already speaking about it, what did you think of our performance?”

I lowered the mug from my lips and watched as Mingi took another sip, a rather large one, not afraid of burning his tongue, “I think you were really good, all three of you. Like I have once said before, the three of you work well together, your voices blending in a way I haven’t heard before. It’s really beautiful, actually, you capture your audience since the very first note you play.”

Mingi hid the huge smile stretching onto his lips behind his mug, averting his eyes shyly, “What did you think of the lyrics? I’ve written the song around two years ago.”

It was my time to look away shyly, my quick heartbeat not foreign anymore at this point, “They were—poetic, almost. I find your lyrics deep and—genuine, like anyone could relate to it, and I think that’s not something you achieve easily. But I mean, what do I know, I’m just a fine arts major.”

Mingi chuckled as he took another sip of his hot chocolate, and then placed the mug on the counter, resting his left hand close to my knee as he leaned his hip against the edge of the surface. I took a small sip as I tried to stop my eyes from checking him out again, but it seemed rather hard as this was the first time I’ve seen Mingi in casual clothing, looking comfortable, and rather soft. It was weird, but somehow, he looked really good, and I felt myself flush at my own thoughts, averting my eyes as Mingi raised an eyebrow questioningly, “I appreciate all feedback, music major or not, after all, you are also part of my audience. And what matters to me most, is how my audience perceives my music and lyrics, if the message I want them to hear goes through.”

“Don’t fret over it so much, Mings.” I chuckled, holding the mug with both hands as I lowered it into my lap, “The crowd loves you, and it was pretty packed down there tonight. You’ll make it big one day, have more faith in yourself.”

Mingi bit his bottom lip, his hand lightly brushing against my knee, “Hongjoong is a very influential person in our world, he’s even composed music before, so sometimes he stops by to help. He’s working on signing us up with a record deal, actually.”

“What?!” I exclaimed excitedly, eyes widening as Mingi fought a grin off his lips by licking them, “That is amazing, Mingi!”

“Yeah, I finally feel like I’m headed somewhere with my life.” He whispered abashed, looking down at the floor as I smiled widely, feeling happy for him. It was nice to see him so happy and excited for what was to come, coming to the sudden realization that I hated seeing Mingi hurt and mad—especially if he felt like that because of me. I didn’t want him hurting because of me, that’s not what friends do.

“I think you looked very hot tonight.” And once again, I blurted out something I didn’t mean to. Mingi’s head snapped up as he looked at me, eyes widening just a little as his eyebrows slightly twitched, he looked like a puppy somehow, it was almost alarming, “I mean, uh, your costume—it was really edgy. You know, giving rockstar vibes and whatnot.”

Mingi hummed, looking down as I took a large sip of the hot chocolate, licking my lips and averting my eyes as Mingi looked back up at me with a thoughtful look on his face. His eyebrows had slightly furrowed now, bottom lip between his teeth, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on the soft looking skin. My heart had started racing for some unknown reason again as I looked back up into his eyes, gulping upon seeing Mingi’s sharp eyes become more intense, more determined that they were a second ago. My fingers tightened around the mug as I cleared my throat, waiting to see what Mingi would do next. He licked his lips and his eyes fell a little lower on my face before he slightly stepped closer, his hand pressing into my knee now, “I really want to kiss you right now, Y/N.”

I froze, feeling my muscles stiffen as he voiced his desire, my heart racing beyond the point of return, making me feel warm despite wearing a t-shirt—his t-shirt. I gulped and bit my lower lip, eyes searching his face for any signs of amusement or joke, but he was dead serious. And I was dead serious too as I pushed away all doubts and prejudices, voice breathy as our gazes bore into each other’s, “Then kiss me.”

The mug barely touched the surface of the counter when Mingi’s large palms cupped my cheeks, his eyes switching between my right and left one as I gulped, tilting my head back just a little bit. I felt nervous but excited at the same time, and my lips parted as Mingi’s lips pulled into the tiniest smile, before he finally closed the distance between our faces. His lips were warm, and soft—plush as they were slightly plumper than mine, pressing against mine gently, softly as if he didn’t want to scare me away. I appreciated his gesture big time, hearing my own heartbeats in my ears as I grabbed the sides of his t-shirt, needing to anchor myself in something. Mingi seemed to grow more confident as I pressed my lips back against his, more determined and less soft as he had been at first, his lower lip slotting between mine perfectly as I latched onto it, sucking it between my lips, making Mingi exhale through his nose, his grip on my cheeks turning firmer. My own hands released his t-shirt in order to travel up his back, gently tracing his firm muscles through his t-shirt, so that my arms could settle around his shoulders. Mingi’s right hand pressed into my lower back as I allowed him to guide me lower on the counter, welcoming him between my legs as our bodies pressed flushed together, our warmth mingling with each other as Mingi’s scent was the only thing I could smell on me and around us.

His lips tasted like mint, mingled with hot chocolate as they lazily moved against mine, taking his time to savor the kiss instead of turning it rushed and messy as I had expected him to kiss. Not that I wondered often what Mingi kissed like, but that didn’t matter anymore as this was the real deal. My skin tingled anywhere he touched, and I was grateful that I was sitting on the counter as my knees would’ve gone weak when he held the side of my neck, thumb stroking my chin every time our lips moved, covering my skin in goosebumps. I leaned up as much as I could, allowing Mingi to tilt my head back more by the hand he had on my neck, my fingers tangling into the soft platinum strands brushing against his nape. A sigh left his lips at the motion, and I nipped at his bottom lip as I felt my body awaken with a fire I have never felt before. Nobody’s kissed me like this before, so gently yet passionately at the same time, just wanting to feel everything and savour the moment for as long as possible. My hands trembled as I chased after his lips when he dared pull back even the slightest bit, capturing his bottom lip between my teeth as I bit down it, but not to the point it was hurtful, feeling painted fingernails dig into my lower back through the fabric.

Mingi’s nose nuzzled against mine as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against my lips, making my heart swell and almost explode out of my chest as I pulled him even more into myself, to the point it was turning painful. I was sure he could feel my heartbeat against his own chest as it was frantic and making me struggle to intake any air, but that was also Mingi’s doing as he was stealing away every breath I tried to inhale. My knees locked him into place as I squeezed them against his hips, prompting Mingi’s lips to press harder against mine, more insistently. It felt like every single emotion that we tried to suppress and hide, suddenly came to the surface, speaking volumes as our lips struggled to find an even rhythm again, growing hotter and a little more rushed, desire blossoming in both of our chests. My lungs had started begging for air, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull back, to pull away from Mingi, my body welcoming him in like no one before, my mind silent for the first time when I was around someone. There were no questions or doubts running through my mind, just the endorphins that came from kissing the man I have started to adore. Finding it hard to breathe too, Mingi pulled back just barely, his lips pressing more kisses against mine as our chests heaved, trying to inhale in air, our breaths meddling as we breathed in each other’s oxygen. I felt warm all over, jittery and giddy, as Mingi’s forehead pressed against mine, making me exhale shakily as our lips brushed against each other’s just barely. He was breathing through his lips hard, both hands cupping my cheeks again as he gently rubbed his thumbs against my flushed skin.

I tried to find peace again and calm my erratic heartbeats, my eyelashes fluttering open as my gaze ran over Mingi’s elated expression, bottom lip between his teeth before he was breathing through his lips again. I admired the beauty of his perfectly shaped face, naturally sun-kissed, scars from his acne faded, some new ones redder. His tall nose looked sharper from up-close and the tip slightly turned more to the side, his cheeks flushed probably as much as mine. His mole underneath his eye was more visible now that he didn’t have any makeup on, and before I could talk down myself, I leaned my chin up and pressed a soft kiss against his beauty mark, Mingi’s breath catching in his throat. I smiled and cupped his cheeks too, his eyes fluttering open as I couldn’t help but grin widely at him. Mingi’s brown eyes were warm and shone with a glimmer that wasn’t there before, slightly teary, but before I could get worried over it, he chuckled as he pressed another chaste kiss against my lips. I smiled widely and nuzzled our noses together, feeling joy flood my body like never before.

“I don’t know about you,” Mingi whispered, voice deeper and raspier, “but I am actually sleepy now.”

I chuckled and released Mingi’s face, feeling a little disappointed when he did the same to me, “Actually, me too.”

And it wasn’t a lie, I could feel the lack of sleep finally catch up to me as Mingi’s hands rubbed at my knees for a second before he pulled back, grabbing our unfinished hot chocolates as he walked towards the sink. I hopped off the counter as he quickly washed them, drying his hands in his sweatpants as he turned to face me. I knew my cheeks were still flushed, and I feared it wouldn’t go away for a while now as my lips tingled from Mingi’s kisses, body yearning for his warmth and comforting scent. All I wanted was to curl up against his chest and hug him until he became fed up with it, wanting to feel his lips against my skin as he whispered sweet nothing into my hair, into my ears. Alarmed by my own sudden desires, I marched towards the bedroom, Mingi following after me as he flipped the light switch.

My actions were hurried as I swiftly climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin as I lay on my side, my back to Mingi as he settled in beside me, a lot calmer than me. I gulped, feeling the silence stretch on, not awkward but too silent, almost as if we should have said something. I pondered whether I should speak up and bring up the kiss, question what it meant for us, but Mingi suddenly started giggling, it becoming muffled as if he had pressed his hands against his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” I found myself asking, feeling the corners of my mouth tug up as Mingi’s deep giggles continued.

“I—” He paused, sucking in a deep breath as he made me silently laugh, “I fell on the stage, tonight. But it was dark, so nobody saw but Seonghwa.”

I couldn’t help but laugh loudly as I pressed my face into the pillow that smelled completely like Mingi, ��You’re an idiot, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“No, I could’ve completely fell on Seonghwa’s drums and ruined the performance!” His words made the both of cackle like mad people, chests shaking with laughter, and tummies hurt by the time we managed to calm down. Mingi became quiet as I chuckled one last time, mouth hurting from how widely I was smiling. Mingi took a deep breath and released it slowly, probably finally settling down, determined to sleep, “Good night.”

“Good night.” My voice was quiet and small, and I gnawed on my lower lip as I braced myself for what I was about to do. Mustering up the last pieces of my courage, I suddenly turned and raised up onto my elbows, Mingi’s eyes flying open in fright as he didn’t expect my sudden movement. I leaned over him as he was laying on his back, and pressed a swift kiss against his lips, his eyes wide as I pulled back before he could turn it into more. I quickly rolled over and pulled the covers over my head, squeezing my eyes shut as all I wanted to do was scream and kick my legs, my heart hammering like crazy against my ribcage, cheeks on fire. I felt Mingi move around too, the quietest cough, and then the soles of his feet pressing against mine, making me fight against all demons in my body to lay still and will my heart to stop beating so God damn fast.

『Not acid nor alkaline

Caught between black and white

Not quite either day or night

She's perfectly misaligned

I'm caught up in her design

And how it connects to mine

I see in a different light

The objects of my desire』

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creativepromptsforwriting · 1 year

Text

Exes to Lovers Masterpost

Dialogue Prompts

"I'm sorry for how it ended." "I'm sorry that it ended at all."

"Do you still have place for me in your life?"

"Three years was not enough to get over you."

"We'll always find our ways back to each other."

"I couldn't stop loving you, even if I tried. And I did try for some time. But it didn't work."

"Seeing you again brought everything back."

"It was a mistake to just go away. We should've fought more for what we wanted." "We are doing it now."

"Being back in your arms is everything I wished for since we broke up."

"I can't believe you would actually take me back."

"Do you have any idea how much I wished to take it back? To just go to your house and apologize?" "I would have waited for you. I did wait for you. Even if it took some time, you are here now."

"I shouldn't have ever let you go away. I need you by my side."

"The fight we had was so stupid and breaking up was irrational."

"We work much better as a team."

"I don't ever want to lose you again."

"It was the right thing at the time. We weren't ready for it." "Do you think we are now?" "Yes, absolutely."

"People called me crazy for letting you get away. And they were right."

"I will never let you go again."

"We were both so hurt that we didn't see how much the other one was hurting. I hope that we're now able to look past that and be able to heal together."

"Honestly? I never stopped loving you."

"Let's never break up again. Ok?"

Text Prompts

Having broken up, but still living in the same area they keep running into each other. At the park, the grocery store, the laundromat, … everywhere.

They are still in the same friend group and they want to make it work as friends. But hanging out all the time makes it hard to get over each other.

Person A moves to another apartment and finds some of Person B’s, their exes’ stuff while moving and the former lovers meet up for the first time since the break-up to exchange the goods.

While not having adopted it together, Person A’s pet becomes miserable after Person B stops being over, so finally they have to arrange for a meeting in a park, like two divorced parents.

They are still each other's emergency contact. Which becomes apparent when one of them ends up in the hospital.

Having their car breaking down by the side of the road is bad enough. Their ex being the one to come save them is even worse.

They had already booked everything for their friends' destination wedding before they broke up. To celebrate them and not lose their deposits they decide to still share the hotel room.

Person A’s family still invites Person B to all of their family events. And Person B actually goes.

They bought tickets for their favourite band’s concert one year in advance. It’s been a few months since their break-up and they believe the emotions have calmed down a bit, so they decide to still go together when the time comes. But maybe they don’t have calmed down that much, when their song comes on.

They know each other best. Even after their break-up their ex is still the first person they want to call when something good or bad happens.

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bellarkeselection · 9 months

Text

Knew Better But Still Picked You

Gif from @alphinias

Honestly I might turn this into a small series because this is the longest request I have ever written. Let me know if you want more parts 😁. Part two. Part three

Request From @loxleys-blog could i be added to the tag list for cole and a request of best friend of jackie who comes to visit her and moves there with her family and falls for cole and cole falls for her?

The car pulled to a stop outside the big Walter ranch household and I saw the front door fling open revealing my best friend from New York running straight for me. Getting out of the car I took my bag out and opened my arms for her. “Jackie Jack!”

“Y/n. I can’t believe you’re here!” She flung her arms around me and we stumbled when we finally embraced one another.

Jackie and I had become even closer than we were before after her family’s accident. The rest of her friends wouldn’t talk to her but I chose to keep our relationship the same. So I basically took the place of her sister Lucy. “Who’s your friend, New York?” I broke away from her seeing a young guy with green eyes and honey blonde hair.

“She’s my best friend from back home, Cole.” Jackie grumbled tugging on my arm trying to get me to leave with her.

Yet I wasn’t going to not introduce myself to him especially since he was really attractive. Walking over to the guy was sitting on a horse with light blonde hair like he had. “Hey there, I’m Y/n.” Leaning my arms on the wooden fence I sent him a grin.

He dismounted his horse and climbed over the fence shaking my hand with a cheeky grin. “Cole, Cole Walter. Have you ever been on a horse before?”

“Can’t say I have.” I replied to him.

His grin only grew. “Would you want to come riding with me?”

“No. No she wouldn’t actually. Because she’s coming to have ice cream with me and my friends. So we’re gonna be going now.” Jackie came rushing forward tugging on my arm and leading me back away from him. Whipping my head around watching Cole staring at us as we went to leave. I parted my lips, finding myself wanting to talk with him more. There was something intriguing about him I just couldn’t put my finger on.

A few hours later Jackie had me meet Skylar and Tara who she had met on her first day of school. We were sitting inside the ice cream shop where I took a big bite out of my strawberry cone hearing the store bell ring. My gaze shifted to the doorway recognizing Cole came through and he waved in my direction. “OMG. That is not a good idea at all.”

“What’s wrong, Tara?” I asked, finishing the bite I had in my mouth confused.

She sent me a raised brow. “You're getting involved with Cole Walter.”

“I’m not involved with him. I just met the guy today after I came in from the airport.” I told her to eat more of my cone.

Lifting my gaze upward Cole was ordering himself his own ice cream and the woman at the counter handed it over to him. Cole glanced my way and I felt my face turn red after I waved back to him without really thinking and Jackie hit my arm in warning. “Don’t go down that road, Y/n. Cole isn’t a good guy.”

“Why not?” I asked softly.

The three of them looked between one another and Skylar was the first to say something to my question. “He’s known to have a lot of hookups and not be up for a real relationship.”

“He sneaks them out of the house. I saw one the first morning I got to the Walter house. Alex can tell you more if that’s not enough of a warning for you.” Jackie explained putting a hand on my shoulder.

Shaking my head I still didn’t see why they were so afraid for me. I didn’t know anything about the guy but he seemed nice enough. “Okay don’t shoot me for asking this but what is the big deal of getting to know him. I’m not going to hook up with him.”

“That’s what most girls think and then he woos them with his charm…” Tara trailed off.

My best friend squeezed my shoulder and I met her concerned gaze. “I just don’t want you to get hurt because of him. You’re basically my chosen sister now.”

“He’s not gonna ever be interested in me Jackie and I’m not going to be interested in him.” I reassured her and we changed the conversation to something else for the rest of the time.

A few hours later after the crazy family dinner I was laying on my side of Jackie’s bed while she was doing some extra credit homework. Staring up at the ceiling I sighed clasping my hands together on my stomach. It definitely was different from the noisy city sirens and other things. Whereas here you could only hear the wind and all the other animal noises. I heard something slide underneath the closed bedroom door where I got up from the bed seeing it was a note. Folding it open the note read “Meet me on the porch if you want to see something cool - C”

Silently reading it to myself I contemplated on going or not eyeing my best friend while she worked silently. I didn’t suppose she would see if I was gone for a little bit. “Hey Jackie Jack, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Okay. But use mine. Don’t use the one that everybody else does. Trust me.” She warned me turning back around in her desk chair.

Getting to my feet I snatched my boots out from underneath the bed and a green hoodie without her knowing. Then I headed down the stairs as quietly as I could possibly manage since it was almost midnight and most of the house was asleep. Reaching the front door I snuck through it, closing it gently then walked to the edge of the porch not seeing Cole anywhere. “Cole!” I called out still in a quiet voice.

“Over here, Y/n.” He responded by waving a flashlight from the barn door that he had opened. Rushing down the steps I ran towards the barn meeting up with him where he lowered the flashlight when we were standing in front of each other. “Was wondering if you were actually going to show up.”

Shrugging my shoulders I admitted slightly nervous of what he had planned in the middle of the night. “Gotta be honest I’ve never snuck out in the middle of the night like this. So what do you have in mind, Colorado?”

“I wanna show you something you don’t see in fancy New York.” He drew open a horse stall and walked out the horse he was on when we first met. “This is my horse.”

Taking a step forward I brushed a hand through its mane. “He’s beautiful.”

“Glad you like him cause we’re going to ride him to the spot I want to show you.” Cole responded by brushing his hand through his horse's mane touching my hand when he finished his sentence.

Tilting my head at the Walter boy I must have misheard him. “I’m sorry we’re doing what now?”

“We’re going to ride my horse together so I can show you a special spot.” Cole said again to me shutting the door with his foot holding out his freehand to help me step up on the box that was near where his horse was standing already saddled up. “Don’t worry city girl. I won’t make you ride alone until after I’ve shown you how to ride.”

Eyeing his hand extended to me I couldn’t help but hear Jackie and the others warming to not get involved with the Cole Effect. Yet I couldn’t deny I liked the thrill of butterflies he was giving me so I gave him my hand. “Just don’t let me fall off okay.” He nodded helping me throw one leg over and once I was settled he climbed on behind me.

“Hang on tight, Y/n.” He warned me, pressing his front closely to my back, making my face turn a shade of red as he kicked his horse in the gut and we raced from the barn to the open fields in the distance.

The wind blew through our hair and I hadn’t realized but I gripped Cole’s forearm since he was the one controlling the reins. Probably knowing I might scare the horse and then we’d be in trouble. He finally tugged the reins and slowly dismounted the horse helping me down. He had his horse lay down sitting down on the ground waiting for me. “Come on, sit down.” He patted the grass beside him.

“Okay.” I agree plopping down beside him looking around at the dark woods surrounding us. “So what did you want to show me?”

Cole moved his right hand forward tilting my chin upwards towards the sky. “This is what I wanted to show ya, Y/n.”

I gasped in awe seeing the sky dancing with a million stars above our heads. Blinking through some tears I couldn’t describe what it felt like to see something this bright. “This is incredibly beautiful…” The stars were so bright and even though we had some impressive light shows in New York none would compare to this.

“It’s not the only thing that’s beautiful. You surely can’t get that view in the city.” Cole mumbled, causing me to meet his green gaze.

I paused in my next words still confused as to why he was giving me his time and attention when he was labeled as the most popular boy in this town. “Cole, why did you ask me out here tonight? Not that I don’t appreciate it. I just…I don’t entirely understand why me?”

“I ain’t good with saying how I feel so sorry if this sounds stupid….I just instantly liked you for some reason.” He declares where I didn’t say a word with our gazes focusing in on one another.

Parting my lips I whispered out. “Liked me in what way, Cole?”

“In the way where we can…do this.” Cole whispered towards me before he made my breath catch in my throat seeing him leaning forward about to kiss me.

Half of my brain was telling me to not kiss him and remember the warning and the other half was saying he would be your first kiss and I couldn’t deny that I felt something for him even though all we had done was saying hello. I finally made up my mind and closed the gap the rest of the way kissing him. He responded by scooting closer to me and threading one hand through my hair trailing it down to the side of my cheek before I broke it needling air. “Cole….don’t find this dorky of me. But that…you were my first kiss.”

“I wouldn’t judge you for that. So what are you thinking now, Y/n.” He asked me to try to read my facial expressions but I was still in shock and bliss at the same time.

Hugging my knees to my chest I admitted sheepishly with my face turning red. “Jackie isn’t gonna be happy about this. She warned me to stay away from you….I knew better but I’m still choosing you.”

“Well I’m glad cause I’m picking you too, Y/n.” He draped an arm over my shoulder and I laid my head against his chest feeling my eyes getting heavy since I was getting sleepy. His gaze dropped to mine, tucking hair from my eyes. “Don’t worry about Jackie. You’ve got to live a little in life. Now let’s get you back before you fall asleep out here.”

We rode back to the house and I struggled to stay awake after getting off his horse so he decided to just carry me back bridal style upstairs. “Cole, this isn’t my room…she’ll be mad if I sleep in your room.” I trailed off in a sleepy tone laying my head still on his chest with him laying me down on one side of his bed.

He changed into some shorts to sleep in and crawled in the bed beside me feeling me scoot over to him laying my head back in the crook of his neck like it was minutes ago. “Sssh babe. I’ll take whatever Jackie feels tomorrow morning. Just get some rest.” My eyes fell closed and he dozed off shortly after in a peaceful night of sleep.

That was until the morning came and his bedroom door was flung open and I screamed hearing my best friend bursting into his room. “Y/n, I told you to stay away from him!…Well don’t you two have anything to say?” Rubbing my eyes Cole shifted, holding himself up on his elbow staring down at me silently, neither of us giving her an answer.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @cognacdelights

#cole walter #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #horse ranch #horse riding #jackie howard #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #netflix #bad boy #cole x reader #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated #forbidden romance

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nipuni · 2 months

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Blog time Hello! We are back from our trip! I'd say I'm feeling refreshed but coming back to sweltering dry heat shut down that feeling very quickly. Now we are even more determined to move to the seaside within the year though 🏃‍♀️ It's incredible how much of an effect on your health the weather can have. These days we have been hiking for around 8 hours a day in the mountains and coast without breaking a sweat in 17-22ºc high humidity weather. In contrast, today back home we walked to the store five streets away in a dry 33ºc sun and we felt like throwing up and never leaving the house again lmao and it only gets much worse until september aaaa I can't wait to move out of the city and start a new colder and quieter phase of life where I don't have to dread the coming of summer every year!! But at the same time I've been feeling this trepidation about settling down somewhere permanently, I realized that every 5 years or so I get the itch to move somewhere new and it worries me a bit tbh, I hope it is just my fear of commitment acting up and the fact that we just haven't found the right place yet. And the longer we spend in this place the more we feel like it will be the right one so I'm hopeful!

We have also been watching more of David's filmography! we watched Des, Single Father, Recovery, Bad Samaritan and Deadwater Fell. We enjoyed Recovery, Single father and Deadwater Fell the most, all were really good!! then Des was decent and Bad Samaritan was terrible. But as expected David steals the show every time and you end up sitting through the most ridiculous scripts just to see him give it his all and elevate the whole thing with every scene lmao the sheer range of this man!! let me gush for a second, he goes from the most charming and pitiful train wreck you would kill to protect to the most terrifying monster of a person so effortlessly you can hardly tell it's the same actor. He is so outstandingly good at every role!! Anyway I love watching our little shows of our favourite guy with Nicolas everyday, it has been the highlight of my year 🥰

I've also been meaning to get back into games but I just can't find the right one! I tried the whole cozy farming/survival/sandbox game thing and came to the conclusion that it's not for me, I don't find them engaging enough so it ends up feeling like a time sink 😞 I also thought of going back to FFXIV but the new expansion doesn't sound like something I would really enjoy and while I love RPG I'm finding it hard to commit to 40+ hours of storyline lately, BG3, Cyberpunk 2077 and Disco Elysium have been sitting in my library for ages now and I can't bring myself to play them even tho I want to!! I'm hoping DA4 will get me back into the RPG mood. I've also played Hades II but I'm all out of content until release! Maybe shooters will do the trick, something fast paced I can play for a little bit as a distraction from work. I've been meaning to check how Warframe is doing too, I love it and haven't played in ages, and every time I check it's like a completely different game so that could be fun! but I'm rambling now, if you have any game recommendations let me know! I hope you are all doing well 😊 I'll get back to drawing now and will share some sea pictures later!

#nips blogs #personal

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pink-sparkly-witch · 11 months

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All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea.

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties.

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha.

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut.

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food.

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

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