#and if there's any doubt at all then it's best to just not go through with it because your feelings could change at any moment tbh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

antebunny · 3 days

Text

find me in the future

After so many reincarnations and reunions, Wei Wuxian’s soul is so attuned to Lan Zhan’s soul that all it takes for Wei Wuxian to remember his past lives is making eye contact with Lan Zhan. He never remembers a life before the first one where he met Lan Zhan, which is probably for the best. You have to start somewhere.

Of course, as the centuries fly by and Wei Wuxian collects reincarnations like Pokemon cards (fantastic new invention, he’s finally born in the right century!), it takes longer and longer for him to recalibrate to centuries of memories getting dumped into his previously innocent nine-year-old brain. (Always nine years old. Can’t ever get away).

This is Wei Wuxian’s excuse for why he doesn’t immediately run to Lan Zhan after making eye contact with him on a crowded street. Well, one of many excuses. There’s also the part where he’s a tiny little nine-year-old orphan (again?!) tossed between the bodies of many, many stampeding adults, all attempting to reach for Lan Zhan. He’s above them, of course; Lan Zhan cultivated to immortality so long ago that now he doesn’t walk, he glides, or floats, or flies. The result is the same: the god-like light-bearing lord appearing before his people, who fall over themselves (and Wei Wuxian) in their eagerness to be blessed by his presence.

By the time Wei Wuxian struggles to the front of the crowd, Lan Zhan is long gone.

Okay, so here’s his problem: Wei Wuxian is not immortal. Mo Xuanyu’s body, if it ever possessed the potential to cultivate to immortality (doubtful), had that potential beaten out long before Wei Wuxian came to own it. Unfortunately, back then, he and Lan Zhan, still young and naive (ha, funny what perspective time gives you), truly believed that with enough effort he could succeed where so many had failed.

Instead, Lan Zhan was forced to watch as his beloved withered, wrinkled and finally grew still while he remained as pristinely young adult as ever. To make matters worse, Jiang Cheng also cultivated to immortality, proving that Wei Wuxian’s original golden core had that capability. The ensuing guilt from both of them–Jiang Cheng for having Wei Wuxian’s core, Lan Zhan for encouraging Wei Wuxian to cultivate to immortality with him–and loneliness as the only two immortals of their generation brought the two of them together, which Wei Wuxian still thinks is kind of cute. They’re like frenemies now, who know how to work with each other instinctively and will defend each other to the death (or a death–no, bad Wei Wuxian, not funny) but still hate each other’s guts.

Over the centuries Wei Wuxian has been reborn as just about every type of person. Some lived entire lives without ever even hearing of Lan Zhan. Some never learned to write, much less cultivated a golden core, some were widely beloved, some were scorned, and some found their way back to Lan Zhan.

If Wei Wuxian is being completely honest–and he’d never share this brutal honesty with any of his loved ones–those lives are the worst. Inevitably, Wei Wuxian’s new body lacks the capability to cultivate to immortality, and his loved ones who have are all forced to watch for the thousandth time as Wei Wuxian sputters and stalls until his body inevitably gives out and he dies. Old age, Wei Wuxian has come to learn through vast unwanted experience, is an unlucky way to go. No, better to go out in a blaze of glory, for a cause or for a people. The death is temporary and he will be remembered by people who love him. Making his loved ones watch his slow demise when he knows that he will never reach immortality in this lifetime is nothing short of torture.

Perhaps that’s why it is such a surprise when little nine-year-old Wei Wuxian (Zhang Xinyin, or William Zhang, in this lifetime, he’s Chinese again but he speaks Cantonese now for a total of twelve languages, nice) hunkers down in a quiet little corner of the orphanage and discovers that this body has the highest potential to cultivate to immortality of any body he’s ever had, including his original.

The practice of cultivation fell out of use many, many centuries ago. Wei Wuxian is on his own for this one. The good news is that he’s an expert at forming a golden core at this point, perhaps more than anyone else in the world. So all Wei Wuxian has to do is find a stable way of life for the next decade or so, which supports a child practicing an esoteric art like his life depends on it, and then he can worry about finding his family.

That is, of course, easier said than done.

“Will! Hey, Will!”

Wei Wuxian startles out of meditation (if only Lan Zhan could see him now) when he hears one of his new friends calling his name (well, one of many). He had spread a blue rubber yoga mat out on the green concrete rooftop, hoping to find some peace and quiet wherein he could meditate and nurse that slowly-budding golden core in his chest.

Freckles, or Ruddy, or Rush, or Chen, pokes his little cherub-like face over the roof edge. (Everyone Wei Wuxian’s age–biological age–looks like a little baby child to him, and everyone in the world seems impossibly young. It helps that he likes kids, and they tend to like him).

“What troubles you?” Wei Wuxian calls as he stands up.

So the last time he learned English it was quite different, okay? Sue him. He’s relearning it.

“You’re so weird,” Chen informs him as he picks his way between cracks and loose sand and dust. “Were you meditating again?”

“Yes.” Wei Wuxian pounds a fist to his chest twice. “I will be stronger than anyone. You will see.”

Chen only rolls his eyes. “Okay, Bruce Lee. Anyways. Lynch is asking for you.”

A very nice white lady who is unfortunately named Ms. Lynch came to volunteer at their school to teach. Wei Wuxian likes her, and to his surprise he likes the woman who runs the orphanage too. He’s had a bad run with orphanages in the past but this one is okay. No funding, of course, and understaffed, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t need adult supervision. (Somewhere on a different continent, Jiang Cheng sneezes loudly).

“Yeah? Whatever for?” Wei Wuxian follows Chen down the ladder and misses Chen rolling his eyes again.

“Dunno, go find out.”

Wei Wuxian takes a few shortcuts on his way through the school building. He goes to public school, of course, as do all the kids from the orphanage, but Wei Wuxian is their star. A shining example of what orphans can be if they apply themselves. The kids all think he’s weird, which is fair, because he is, but the (other) adults think that Wei Wuxian is a studious little goody-two shoes. The truth is that Wei Wuxian has learned how to solve problems discreetly and how to cause trouble without getting caught. And that he’s only well-adjusted in the sense that he’s had dozens of childhoods; one more isn’t going to mess him up too terribly.

Ms. Lynch is poking around her computer (absolutely amazing new invention, Wei Wuxian was definitely reborn in the right century) when Wei Wuxian skids to a stop by her desk.

“Hello, Ms. Lynch.” Wei Wuxian beams in a way that he knows she loves. “Chen said you were asking for me?”

Ms. Lynch closes out of a few tabs and turns in her swivel chair (another great new invention), brushing straw brown hair behind thick plastic glasses. “Yes, I heard that you have been trying to learn cultivation all by yourself, can I ask what sparked your interest?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “It seemed interesting.” He really wants to become immortal this lifetime in order to save people who he cares about deeply a lot of grief. “It’s fun.”

“I see.” Ms. Lynch clearly isn’t satisfied with this answer, but she nods and smiles all the same. “You know, I wrote about the ancient practices of cultivation for my senior thesis, and it’s quite dangerous to do without supervision. Have you considered joining a class?”

“Uh.” Well, actually, Wei Wuxian could teach that class better than probably anyone else in the world, except maybe for Jiang Yanli, but it’s irrelevant because he certainly doesn’t have the money to afford it. “Noooo?”

“Hm.” Ms. Lynch smiles again, in a gently disapproving kind of way. “Well, I know that they can be expensive and quite a hassle, but I just wanted to make sure that you aren’t taking anything you learn from the internet about it too seriously. A lot of it is misleading and you can really harm yourself.”

Wei Wuxian is fighting for his life on the Wikipedia pages for cultivation. First, because he’d hoped that leaving some kind of coded message there could catch the attention of someone in his family and lead to them finding him. When that didn’t work, Wei Wuxian started combating misinformation (a losing battle) while having the reputation of that Wikipedia editor who put random gibberish in for fun.

“Oh, I’m not,” Wei Wuxian chirps. “It’s all for fun, Ms. Lynch. I promise I’m not doing anything dangerous.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Ms. Lynch says, mostly sincerely. “I don’t mean to discourage you. It’s wonderful to see you taking an interest. Most kids your age have no interest in stuff like that.”

What she means is that cultivation is the ancestral practice and cultural heritage of his people. Because Wei Wuxian was born into the right social group: there are maybe a couple hundred thousand of his people spread across the globe, in little diaspora communities with varying levels of wider acceptance. Wei Wuxian’s family–the ones who have cultivated to immortality–are their leaders. Mysterious, reclusive figures who almost never interact with outsiders yet are beloved within their communities for how steadfastly they’ve protected them over the centuries. A lot of people outside the community think they’re a cult, which is probably fair, all things considered.

It’s funny. Wei Wuxian has never been closer and yet never felt further from his family than this lifetime. A real chance of cultivating to immortality, a place in the only group of people with access to the famed (or rumored) immortals, and his reputation has never been better; his people celebrate his birthday every year (or they celebrate the excuse to party, same difference) and pray for his reincarnation. Yet if he–William Zhang–claimed to be the legendary Wei Wuxian’s reincarnation, no one would believe him. They’d ignore him as a loud-mouthed kid, at best. At worst, well, Wei Wuxian isn’t going to test that. In no situation would they–the community leaders–reach out to the immortals on his word.

Instead, Wei Wuxian slinks back to the bedroom he shares with Chen and two other boys (he doesn’t miss being a girl, but damn could they keep a room clean) and wonders if Sizhui has gotten Lan Zhan an iPhone yet.

Maybe it’s for the best, Wei Wuxian tells himself. Reuniting with his family while in the body of a child will be awkward. Especially with Lan Zhan, who has been attracted to Wei Wuxian in whatever body they reunited in but is obviously not attracted to children. Wei Wuxian is not looking forward to spending years lusting after his own damn husband while Lan Zhan can only see a child. Yes, it’s definitely for the best.

Even if Wei Wuxian is terribly lonely.

So the years pass. Wei Wuxian cultivates a golden core, gobbles up modern slang like he was born for it, learns how to code in Python, and enters high school with an end goal: immortality by age twenty-four. The current record-holder is Wen Qing, who cultivated to immortality at the ripe old age of twenty-five, the lucky bastard. She reincarnated in the 1500s into the perfect set of circumstances: a second-eldest son of a wealthy family who practiced cultivation. Her family patriarch was one of the community elders who semi-regularly communicated with the immortal cultivators. The year when Wen Qing was brought along for the first time, Wen Ning took one look at her and said “jiejie” and that was that.

Obviously, Wei Wuxian has to beat her record.

Some of them choose to forget.

Over the centuries Wei Wuxian and the others have encountered countless reincarnations of people they knew from their original lives. (And important people from future lives too, but those were never quite the same. There’s something about their original lives that always sang like an unfinished symphony, an epic story not yet fully written, even though Wei Wuxian lived a full life). Sometimes the choice is made for them not to help them remember. Such was the case for a reincarnation of Jin Guangyao, found in 556 B.C. by Wen Ning and Sizhui. Sometimes they choose to move on, like the reincarnation of Jiang Fengmian found by Jiang Yanli. They leave him alone nowadays, whenever they find him. His soul is not so attuned to anyone else’s as to have the strike of realization that hit Wei Wuxian on that crowded street.

The worst is when they reunite, live happily, and still choose to say goodbye. Nie Huaisang reincarnated in Italy, dragged Wei Wuxian off to France to learn Impressionist painting, and still chose to reenter the reincarnation cycle. Wei Wuxian, whose body that decade could not even form a golden core, simply could not understand Nie Huaisang’s unwillingness to cultivate to immortality. He still doesn’t.

Humans have orbited the moon. For that alone, it is worth it. He only wishes all humans could feel how far they’ve come.

Even those that chose to become immortal have retreated from the world. So many lifetimes, so many childhoods, so many parents and lovers and children–it’s impossible to care equally forever. The world feels so much larger when you have been an Egyptian farmer during the reign of Cleopatra, to whom the pyramids were ancient history, and one of the slaves who built them, and a Finnish soldier who fought on skis against invading Russians in 1939. In the face of such grandness, how can one tiny community, one family, one person matter?

It’s a blessing and a curse. Wei Wuxian has had good parents and bad parents and everything in between until he finally figured out how it works. He’s grown up in enough families with pet dogs that he’s lost his fear of them. On the other hand, he has had so many friends in so very many forms that he struggles to convince himself they truly matter. They’ll all be dead within the century, anyways.

Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng have the opposite problem. They only have one life, the original, to remember, even as that life’s length stretches far past the boundaries of a normal human lifespan. Their main link to the world, Wei Wuxian knows, is him. Sizhui and Jin Ling drag them out for enrichment exercises, and Jiang Yanli can usually get her way if she sets her mind to it, but it’s still guilt over Wei Wuxian’s second life as Mo Xuanyu that keeps them here.

The 21st century slams in, a rush of technicolor and lightspeed and skyscrapers (and like all centuries, war, disease and death). The tale of the Yiling Patriarch vastly outstrips the size and weight of Yiling. The Burial Mounds are a nice forest now. Hundreds of thousands of people hope for his return. And still Wei Wuxian cannot manage a single immortality-sized golden core.

The opportunity sneaks up on Wei Wuxian. Shamefully, he needs the obvious spelled out before he can see it.

“You going to the cultivation tournament?”

Wei Wuxian was actually studying calculus. Seriously, it’s crazy how much people have proven about math since the last time he–wait, cultivation?

When Wei Wuxian digs his nose out of his textbook, Ian is smirking at him, and Chen is blinking innocently. Ian slouches over the library table so he can push the textbook shut.

“Eh, probably not worth it,” Wei Wuxian dismisses. He’s not learning cultivation so he can dunk on some kids who only learning cultivating without the cultivation.

“You sure?” Chen butts in, now smirking too. “I hear winner gets to meet the immortals.”

Ian grins when Wei Wuxian’s mouth falls open. The kid has no idea what’s going on with “the immortals” or cultivation–he’s pretty sure that Ian thinks he and Chen are deep in a religious cult with weird beliefs but normal holidays–but Ian gleefully abuses the effect it has on Wei Wuxian.

“Sounds made up,” Wei Wuxian says suspiciously.

“No, no, it’s true!” Chen insists. “They hold it every twenty-five years. Or they say they will. They haven’t done this before.”

It’s very hard to get very old immortals to do something new. What changed?

The answer smacks Wei Wuxian in the face as Chen pulls out his phone and shows an official-looking announcement, shared around their community, to Wei Wuxian. It’s the internet. Previously, Wei Wuxian lived entire lives without ever hearing of cultivation. Now, anyone with an internet connection will probably run into the term at least once. Now, Wei Wuxian’s family can reach out, through screens and cables and the casual interest of millions, to him.

They’re doing this for him.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t read Wikipedia articles. Lan Zhan regresses into a fugue state whenever Wei Wuxian’s not around. Maybe Wen Qing had the idea, maybe Sizhui put it together. Because they’re still reaching out, still waiting for Wei Wuxian to come home.

This is his chance.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #魔道祖师 #my writing #my fanfiction #antebunny's ficlets #posting this on tumblr to incentivize me to finish this one-shot #that will eventually go on ao3

86 notes · View notes

hollyoongs · 2 days

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

"Nothing will ever come between us 'Cause i'll be standing right next to you"

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: non idol boyfriend!jay and fem!reader 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: SURPRISE MY POOKIE (a.k.a @glitterjay)! This is a little late, but some of your moots decide to surprise you with this gift...

💌 𝗠𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 [𝟓] @st4rwon: congrats on hitting 1k c!! you definitely deserve it 🤍 i absolutely love all your works and am so proud to see that they are being appreciated ! keep up the amazing work :) @hollyoongs: this drabble is for… jupi! I'm so glad I can have such a nice and lovely friendship with you and to be present in this big milestone, you deserve it so much and tbh I can't wait to see what the future holds to you, such an amazing, wonderful and incredible human being, congrats my 5'7 jupi! 💟 @kwiwin: Hey C! Congrats on reaching 1k, it's freaking awesome how so many people recognize real talent out there. Even if we've been moots for just a little time I am proud of you and what you have achieved! Keep stunning the world with your (beautifully written) stories ♡ @heeslut4life: hi c! congrats on hitting 1k!! i’m so proud of you<3 you’ve done so goddamn well, you have amazing fics and you are an amazing person:) i know we don’t really interact a lot but i hope you know that i wish nothing but the best for you💗 keep going, you’re such beautiful and wonderful person<33

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 2: this is also a short drabble and you will definitly find some stuff here ;), HAPPY MILESTONE! 𝘄.𝗰: +1.8k

"And the first place, being voted on by 1128 judges, goes to..."

And then your name was announced with your university, making you stand up after a few seconds of shock.

As you walked up to the podium, the weight of the moment settled on your shoulders like a comforting embrace. You couldn't believe it—your name, your university, Decelis Academy, being called out as the winner. It felt surreal, like a dream you never dared to have. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the faces of the cheering crowd into a colorful mosaic of joy and pride.

Glancing at your friends, their beaming faces illuminated by the glow of their phones capturing this momentous occasion, you felt a surge of gratitude. They had been with you through it all—the late nights, the doubts, and the struggles. And now, here you were, basking in the spotlight of recognition.

"Jay, look at your girl!" one of your friends shouted amidst the cheers, drawing your attention to the sea of faces. You couldn't help but smile and offer a small wave to the camera, feeling a rush of affection for your supportive circle. They had been your pillars of strength, propelling you forward even when you felt like giving up.

Reaching the podium, you accepted the prize with trembling hands, the weight of it sinking in with each passing moment. More than a thousand people had chosen your work and had seen its value and its impact. It was a humbling realization, one that filled you with a sense of purpose and determination to continue pushing the boundaries of your craft and enjoying it while doing it.

After the ceremony, the celebrations began in earnest.

The celebrations continued long into the night, transitioning seamlessly from the pulsating energy of the dance floor to the intimate ambiance of a lavish dinner party. Your friends, ever the consummate hosts, had spared no expense in creating a feast fit for royalty. The dining table, adorned with flickering candles and delicate floral arrangements, beckoned you and your friends to indulge in a culinary symphony of flavors.

As you settled into your seats, the clinking of glasses and the gentle hum of conversation filled the air, setting the stage for an evening of heartfelt camaraderie and celebration.

"So, my dear," one of your friends began with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Tell us, what's next for the illustrious winner of the Decelis Academy? Any plans to conquer the world?"

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within you like a spring of joy. "Oh, you know me," you replied with a playful grin. "I've always been a dreamer. And now, with this recognition, who knows what the future holds? The world might just have to brace itself for what's to come."

The table erupted into laughter, each of your friends offering words of encouragement and excitement for the journey ahead. They had seen you weather the storms, witnessed the unwavering determination in your eyes, and now they reveled in the triumph of your success.

"I have no doubt that you'll conquer whatever comes your way," another one of your friends chimed in, her voice laced with genuine admiration. "You're a force to be reckoned with, my dear, and I couldn't be prouder to call you my friend."

Touched by their words, you raised your glass in a silent toast, the clinking sound echoing through the room like a symphony of celebration. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and the promise of tomorrow, you felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you.

"To dreams realized and journeys yet to unfold," you declared, your voice tinged with emotion. "Thank you, all of you, for being a part of this incredible journey. I couldn't have done it without each and every one of you by my side."

The sentiment was met with nods of agreement and murmurs of affection, a tangible reminder of the bond that held you all together. As the evening wore on and the laughter flowed freely, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle in your heart—a feeling that, no matter what the future held, you would always have these cherished moments and these cherished friends to light the way.

As the night wound down and the last revelers bid their farewells, your friends exchanged knowing glances and shared secretive smiles. "Come on, let's take you home," they said, linking arms with you as they guided you towards your apartment.

The car trip to your apartment was a whole carpool karaoke, playing your favorite songs and making the night more magical than it already was. There was only one thing missing, and it was your boyfriend.

Jay and you were a couple for three years already, both meeting at university by a mutual friend, who clicked almost immediately. From the moment your eyes met, there was an undeniable spark, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together. His presence illuminated your world, and his smile lit up even the darkest of days. In his arms, you found solace, warmth, and an unwavering sense of belonging. Jay was not just handsome and intelligent; he was the embodiment of kindness, his gestures tender and sincere, and his words a soothing melody that danced through your soul. With him, you felt like you had won the grandest of lotteries, for in his embrace, you found not just love but the truest essence of romance.

But the only problem was his usual business trips with his dad to help the company that owns Mr. Park, which you understood. You were okay with him not being there because he was always present, but it was hard not to feel sad about it.

As you stepped out of the car and approached your apartment building, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, mingling with the residual excitement of the evening's festivities. You bid your friends goodnight with hugs and promises to meet up again soon, feeling grateful for their unwavering support and the unforgettable memories you had shared, but being slightly weirded out by their suspicious smiley faces.

As you entered your apartment, the familiar surroundings enveloped you like a warm embrace, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort. The gentle glow of lamplight cast soft shadows across the room, imbuing the space with a sense of tranquility that was both soothing and welcoming.

With a contented sigh, you kicked off your shoes and made your way towards your bedroom, eager to sink into the welcoming embrace of your bed and let the events of the day wash over you like a gentle tide. But as you pushed open the door, a gasp escaped your lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

There, standing in the center of the room, was Jay, your boyfriend, looking every bit the epitome of charm and sophistication in his sleek black suit. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and adoration as he held out a big bouquet of white tulips, their delicate petals swaying gently in the air. No wonder your friends were smiling like that.

"Jay? What are you doing here?" You exclaimed, your voice a mixture of surprise and delight. You couldn't believe your eyes—just moments ago, you had resigned yourself to the fact that he was miles away, attending to his father's business affairs. And yet, here he was, standing before you like a vision come to life.

With a smile that melted your heart, Jay stepped forward, his eyes alight with warmth and affection. "I couldn't stay away any longer," he confessed, his voice a soft whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "I wanted to be here to celebrate with you, to share in this moment of joy and triumph."

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through you. "But I thought you were..."

"Surprise," Jay interjected, his smile widening into a grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I wanted to make this night even more special for my sunshine, to show you just how much you mean to me."

With trembling hands, he offered you the bouquet of tulips, their sweet fragrance filling the air with a heady perfume that made your head spin. "To the sun I rotate to," he said, his voice filled with tenderness as you laugh. "To celebrate your incredible achievement and to remind you of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life every single day."

Overwhelmed by his gesture, you reached out and took the flowers, holding them close to your heart as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here and for being a part of this moment with me."

But Jay wasn't done yet. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he gestured towards the bed, where a small pile of gifts lay waiting, wrapped in elegant paper and adorned with ribbons and bows.

"I couldn't come empty-handed," he said with a grin. "I wanted to shower you with tokens of my love and admiration, to show you just how proud I am of everything you've accomplished."

With trembling fingers, you reached for the nearest gift and began to unwrap it, your heart pounding in anticipation of what lay hidden beneath the layers of paper. And as you peeled back the wrapping, revealing the contents within, your breath caught in your throat, and tears of joy welled up in your eyes once more.

Inside was a beautiful necklace, delicate and intricate in design, its sparkling gems catching the light and casting a mesmerizing rainbow of colors across the room. It was a work of art, a testament to Jay's impeccable taste and his unwavering devotion to you.

"Oh, Jay!" you exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's…it's beautiful."

But he wasn't finished yet. With a smile that made your heart skip a beat, he reached for another gift, presenting it to you with a flourish that made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"And there's more where that came from," he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief. "But you'll have to wait and see."

"I need to kiss you so bad." You didn't wait too much; Jay did that for you. His hand being placed on his waist and the other one moving some strings of hair from your face, lips connecting with yours in a tender kiss, you missed each other so badly that you could feel other hearts from that simple action.

As you separate, he touches your forehead softly with his eyes close as you feel the warmth of his love.

"Remember that I don't care about how far I am or what I'm doing; I'll drop anything for you, darling."

And as you stayed there, surrounded by the warmth and love of the man who meant more to you than words could ever express, you knew that this night would be one you would cherish forever—a night of love that knew no bounds.

100 notes · View notes

catherinnn · 2 days

Text

But Daddy I Love Him!!!

Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader based on "But Daddy I Love Him" by Taylor Swift. words: around 2k warnings: angst if you squint, fluff!!! so many taylor swift references, overprotective parents, no use of y/n, happy ending.

masterlist

You knew that once you made your relationship with Eddie Munson public people would lose it. That’s why you’ve been postposing it until you were both really sure about this. But it’s been six months already, and they have been the best six months of your entire life.

Never has any other boy made you feel this way, so comfortable, so confident, so in love. He was chaos and revelry in the best was possible, not like these other boys your parents had set you up with over the last years, just because they’re friends with their parents. He was the complete opposite of those boring boys, he had long and messy hair that you love playing with; he dresses in total black with ripped jeans, leather jackets and shirts with monsters painted on them; he’s loud and fun and hilarious; he’s so pretty and so hot at the same time.

There is no doubt of the way he makes you feel and you’re tired of hiding it. So yes, you knew it was going to be controversial walking in hand by hand, letting him hug you from behind whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you grab your things from your locker and kissing him goodbye before separating to each’s classes for the whole school to see. But you weren’t expecting World War Three.

“There you are, pretty girl” he greets you again at lunch.

“Hey you” you greet him back and go to kiss him, wrapped up in your own world when you’re interrupted by a fellow cheerleader behind you.

“Stay away from her!” Sarah protested. You both look at her in shock.

“What?” Eddie asks confused.

“Whatever it is that you’re doing to her, stop it!” she demands angrily, it’s kind of funny.

“Sarah, what do you mean?” you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes mid-sentence.

“What’s going on?!” she asks in complete confusion.

“He’s my boyfriend, he’s not doing anything wrong to me” you explain to her—actually, to the whole cafeteria who’s just as confused and angry as Sarah is.

“What do you mean your boyfriend? Honey, he’s…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, shooting you a look that speaks volumes, her eyes widen and her eyebrows as if saying You know exactly what he is.

Eddie starts giggling but hides his face in your shoulder trying to act modest. You fail to hide you smirk.

“He’s my boyfriend and I love him. I don’t really see the issue here” you put an end to the conversation and walk to his table where he starts introducing you to his friends.

“What a mess” Hannah whispers to Sarah while playing with her pearl necklace.

However, the real problem started when you got home, one that could not be ignored by just laughing about it.

Sarah and Hannah had talked to your parents about Eddie and you. And your dad did not like those news at all.

“You can’t see him anymore, this nonsense stops right now” he demands.

“But daddy, I love him!” you scream.

“Love? You can’t love someone like him. You’re acting crazy, come to your senses and don’t be a fool!”

“No, I’m not coming to my senses. Please, you don’t understand! Just try to get to know him at least!”

“For the love of God, he is crazy! Don’t you see it?” he exclaims

“But he’s the one I want” you cry.

“No! Go up to your room now, I don’t want to listen to this anymore” he didn’t let you say one more word as he slammed the door in your face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you hear Eddie’s concerned voice through the phone.

“Can you come over? Please” you don’t explain just yet, you just needed him here.

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten” he doesn’t even stop to think about it, immediately saying yes.

“Climb through my window, I’ll leave it open”

That night you only managed to sleep thanks to him, he was the one giving you the peace and calming that you needed. He was the one making your heart flutter.

And for that reason you decided you would not give up so easily. You could not just give up on this thrill he brought into your life, your wild boy and all of this wild joy.

This is why your judgmental ‘friends’—if you could even call them that—still had things to say about your relationship.

“We just want what’s best for you”

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that” you started, acting reluctantly, “I’m pregnant”

Every single one of them yelled a perfectly synchronized ‘WHAT?!’And you nodded.

“I’m having his baby” you admitted and they looked at you horrified and shocked, you couldn’t contain you laughter anymore. “No, I’m not, but you should see your faces!”

“We are not joking around! Could you take this seriously?”

“Girls, if all you want is boring and insignificant for me, then it’s just meaningless and it’s still my choice to make” you explained, starting to think that they’re not ‘trying to save you,’ they just hated you.

“But think about your reputation. What would people say about you?”

“I’ll tell you something, it’s still my name and mine alone”

“Please, just think about-“

“Oh my god! I swear, I’d rather die right now than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning! Really!” you interrupted them and without letting them say one more word, you finally left.

For the next month you had to sneak around to be able to see Eddie, since your dad had forbidden you to ever see him again. Obviously, that wasn’t even a choice. You were going to see him whether your dad likes it or not. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

So you get out of your house after lying to your parent telling them you were meeting one of the girls for a project. Your mom looked at you warily because she noticed the pretty dress and the make-up you were wearing, but she didn’t say anything about it. She wasn’t the judgemental person your dad was.

You walked two blocks away from your house and there was that Van you knew all too well by now, waiting for you.

You went to his trailer, you couldn’t really do any other plan for a date. You still couldn’t go out in public much if you wanted to keep seeing him.

“What movie should we watch?” you ask him.

“I didn’t rent any this week, I just have the old ones we already watched” he answers.

“Oh” you mumble as you go through the couple cassettes he has. But he’s right, you’ve already seen those a thousand times. He hears your sigh.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t think we would have to keep hiding here even after telling everyone about us” he explains.

“I know Eddie, but- I’m dead if my dad finds out I’m still seeing you” you insist but he doesn’t say anything back. He’s dozing off thinking about something.

“What if I just go talk to him?” he proposes after a few seconds.

“What?” you question him in disbelieve. He can’t mean that literally.

“No really, what if he meets me in person? I could talk to him, introduce me, do all that ‘what my intentions with your daughter are.’ Maybe he’ll come around”

“That won’t work with him Eddie, it’s just gonna be a really unconfutable moment between you two. Believe me, I know him” you explain.

“But what other choice do we have? Are we just gonna keep hiding until you move out?” he questions.

“I- I don’t know, but at least this way I can still sneak around and see you. If I keep insisting with this, he’s just gonna lock me in my bedroom forever” you started getting nervous. You were so stressed out that no one would believe or even listen to you when you want to explain how Eddie actually is to you.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m always gonna be here” he calms you down by hugging you. Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer.

When Sunday comes around, you were setting the table to eat with your family, your dad cooking the meat on the grill, your mom dressing the salad. You hear a knock on the front door, but you weren’t expecting anyone today.

“Honey, can you get that?” you mom asks you.

When you open the door, your eyes must be deceiving you, it has to be that. You’re just imagining him because you miss him and he’s just always on your mind.

“Hey” he softly greets you noticing the surprise on your face. And you confirm you’re not imagining anything.

“What are you doing here?!” you whisper-shout at him.

“Okay- I know you told me not to do this, but I really think it could work. Just give me a chance sweetheart, I mean… my charm worked with you after all, maybe it’ll work on them as well, who knows?” he winks playfully.

"Honey! Who is it?" your mom appears from behind you to see. Eddie presents himself politely, giving her flowers even.

"Oh, thank you Eddie, I didn't know you were coming over" she comments confused.

"I just wanted to introduce myself so you could actually get to know me, and not what... some other people say about me" he explains calmly. He acting so respectful that you're biting your tongue to not make fun of him.

"Of course dear, come in" and just like that, he has your mom absolutely delighted with him.

But as I said, your dad is the tough one.

Eddie goes outside to talk to him, he asks you to leave him go alone for a second and that he'll call you if he needs you.

You let him go by himself but still, you're standing at the door spying on them. You can't hear anything, but you see Eddie talking and your dad listening with a straight face. He's acting tough to intimidate him. But Eddie doesn't seem faced by it, he's just explaining something in the nicest way possible. If the hellfire guys were here to see him, they would never let him live this down.

"Honey, don't bite your nails" your mom tells you after a while.

"I'm just really nervous"

"I know, they've been talking for a while now" she agrees, "want me to go see how it goes?"

"Or should I go?" you start questioning but as if you had called them, your dad and Eddie walk in. You look at them expectantly.

"Can you help me outside?" your dad asks you and you nod quickly. You try to read Eddie's face but he seems relaxed, could it be?

After going outside he stands in front of you and takes a few seconds to choose his next words.

"I'm sorry"

"What?" you whisper. You can't believe what you just heard.

"I owe you an apology for not listening to you when you explained it" he starts, "and I owe him and apology for misjudging him"

"Really?"

"Yes dear, I hope you can forgive me and... I just want you to be happy, and I can finally tell that he is one who makes you happy" he admits and you go hug him before you even think of it. Somehow, now even your daddy just loves him.

Eddie stays for dinner that day and it's beautiful to see them all getting along. You separate from your old friends and find new ones who don't judge you and actually care about you and not what other's might think. Eddie and you stay together and finally have dates outside of his trailer or your room. You officially meet Wayne and he adores you, but Eddie's not surprised about that, he knew it wouldn't take much giving how adorable you are. People still have things to say about you two but you learned not to care about it.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x popular!reader #taylor swift fic #taylor swift #the tortured poets department

56 notes · View notes

itsnotsoobiebobbie · 20 hours

Text

HIDDEN FEELINGS - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

not fluent in english, forgive me for any mistakes!

genre: angst, fluff

photo credits: @renjwoo

Synopsis: The blue sky stretched infinitely above, dotted with white clouds like cotton, lazily drifting towards the horizon. The sun poured its golden rays over the idyllic scene, bathing everything in a soft, warm light that seemed to bring life to every leaf and flower.

In the distance, children laughed and ran, their happy giggles mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves. Couples strolled hand in hand, lost in intimate conversations, while the elderly reclined on wooden benches, soaking in the gentle afternoon sun with a serene smile on their lips.

Meanwhile, you hid behind a tree, tears streaming down your face. You were overwhelmed with the emotions that Cheol's confession had triggered. You cherished your friendship and didn't want to hurt him, but you also couldn't deny the feelings you harbored within yourself.

On a sunny spring day, you and Cheol decided to have a picnic in the park. You brought along a basket filled with delights, including sushi rolls he had skillfully prepared at home, and your painting materials. You had been friends since childhood and shared many passions, including art and cooking.

Sitting on the green grass under the shade of a leafy tree, you and Cheol began to paint. The park was peaceful, with only the gentle sound of birds and the whisper of the wind. As you dipped your brushes into the vibrant paints, you chatted enthusiastically about everything and nothing at the same time, enjoying each other's company.

To you, Cheol was more than just someone you shared laughs and conversations with. He was like an anchor in your life, a constant presence that helped you navigate the ups and downs of existence.

Every significant moment in your life was intertwined with his comforting presence. From the early days of school, when he stood up for you against bullies on the playground, to the summer nights spent chatting until the early hours about your deepest dreams and fears, you always knew you could rely on him.

Seungcheol understood you like no one else, even when you didn't understand yourself. You couldn't imagine your life without him by your side. He was an indelible part of who you were, a golden thread weaving through all facets of your existence. He challenged you to be a better version of yourself, always believing in you when you doubted yourself. His friendship was an invaluable treasure, a precious gift that you cherished more than words could express.

However, the feelings you harbored for your best friend went beyond friendship; they were like a silent storm roaring inside you, carefully kept hidden behind a facade. You couldn't help but feel your heart beat faster whenever you were near him, or smile wider when he told a silly joke. Every gentle gesture, every affectionate glance fueled the flame of your unrequited love, but it also filled you with paralyzing fear.

You feared that by confessing your true feelings, you might risk losing the preciousness of your friendship. The idea of jeopardizing the bond you had built over the years was like a tight knot in your stomach, causing you to retreat whenever you found yourself on the verge of revealing the truth.

Thus, you kept your feelings locked away in a deep place in your heart, holding onto them like a precious secret that you feared to reveal. You settled for being just his friend, even if it meant stifling the sighs of unrequited love that threatened to escape with every exchanged glance.

"Ah, what a beautiful contrast of light and shadow! I think I'll paint that imposing oak tree over there," you said excitedly, as you carefully observed the landscape.

"Sounds like a great choice," Cheol responded as he savored a piece of sushi. "That oak tree has an aura of mystery."

"And what about you, what are you going to paint?" you asked distractedly, as you dipped your brush into one of the paints.

"I think I'll portray the lake. I love how the water reflects the colors of the sky," Cheol responded thoughtfully, gazing out at the horizon.

Seungcheol felt a growing nervousness within him. He admired you not only for your beauty but also for your intelligence and kindness. Cheol watched you with a mixture of admiration and tenderness. To him, you were more than just a friend; you were the embodiment of everything he valued in a person. His eyes sparkled whenever you smiled, and his heart warmed at your mere presence. With each brushstroke, he found himself more and more in love with you. Finally, gathering all the courage he had, Seungcheol decided to open up.

"(Y/N)," he began, his voice slightly trembling, "there's something I need to tell you."

You looked at him, your eyes curious, waiting.

"I… I like you. More than just as a friend. I've fallen in love with you," he confessed, the words coming out in a whisper.

There was a moment of tense silence, where time seemed to stand still. You remained still, looking at Cheol with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Your heart began to beat faster as you tried to process what you had just heard.

You found yourself engulfed in a storm of emotions, a complex mix of joy, hope, and fear. Because, despite deeply wishing to express your feelings to him, you felt a tight knot in your throat every time you considered that possibility. You feared that a confession of love could ruin the precious friendship you shared. The fear of losing what you had built over the years paralyzed you, leaving you in a painful deadlock. You found yourself caught in an emotional dilemma, torn between the courage to move forward and the comfort of the familiarity of friendship.

Then, without saying a word, you abruptly stood up and ran towards the lake, leaving behind your painting materials and the picnic basket.

Seungcheol stood there, stunned and heartbroken. He couldn't understand what had just happened. Had he ruined their friendship with his confession?

After some time, you decided to slowly make your way back to where they were. Your heart was racing, but a silent determination shone in your eyes.

With each step taken towards Cheol, your resolve strengthened. You thought of all the times you had shared laughter, tears, dreams, and secrets. You remembered the moments when your gazes met, creating a connection that transcended friendship.

He was sitting in the same spot, with a somber expression on his face. As you approached him, you felt a lump form in your throat, but you forced yourself to take a deep breath and remember what you had decided. You sat down beside him, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry for running away like that," you finally said, your voice faltering slightly. "I… I don't know what to say."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with sadness. "You don't need to say anything, (Y/N). I understand," he murmured, forcing a smile.

Summoning all the courage you had, you said, "Choi Seungcheol, I feel the same way too. I like you, more than just as a friend. I didn't know how to deal with what you said… I was scared and confused. The reason I ran… is because I also feel the same for you, for a long time."

A smile of relief spread across Cheol's face, lighting up his eyes. You looked at each other for a moment, sharing a mutual understanding and a sense of relief for finally having expressed your feelings to each other. Without hesitation, he leaned towards you and kissed you gently. It was a kiss filled with tenderness and complicity, a moment that sealed your special connection in a new and meaningful way.

When you pulled away, your eyes met, shining with a mix of happiness and mutual affection. You knew you had found something special in each other, something that went beyond friendship and opened the doors to an exciting new chapter in your lives.

Together, you continued to enjoy the picnic as the sun slowly set on the horizon, illuminating your newly discovered love with golden hues and promises of a bright future.

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #s.coups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol angst #seungcheol au

45 notes · View notes

twinkletfout · 8 hours

Text

You fell for Bodyguard Nanami? —

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It was supposed to be a usual meet up in the club with your friends, thanks to your two best friends saying they will be early, you are the one who ended up coming earlier. As you were lurking around the place to find some guys to keep you company. You saw one of your best friends, Amy, finally coming inside the club. What took you by surprise was that you saw someone accompanying her, rather a fine looking man. Definitely your type. As she approached you, she asked “am i late?” You gave her a look before eyeing down the man beside her. His blonde hair slicked back,his jaw so stiff and sharp that you wanted to slide your fingers down his jaw line. He wore a suit and tie, for some reason you needed to get under him somehow.

You realised his gaze was now on yours. You quickly pulled away and asked your pink haired bestie “so who is this?” She sighed before saying. “Girl, you know my dad. He was so pissed when i didn't come back home on time like i told him i will, now he freaking hired a bodyguard for me” she said it like she was already tired with whatever was going on in her father’s head. Damn, if only you had a father like that, you kinda wondered

“Ashley is still not here?” Amy asked,

“I doubt she gon make it, her bf came over out of nowhere” I said, shaking my head, even though Ashley was the one to even come up with the idea to hangout in the club. “So is this hottie up for a dance?” I asked the bodyguard next to her. “I don't dance,” he quickly spat out.

“Thats a shame” you said making a sad face. “Go find someone else, he is just doing his job.” Amy said, but you were not even going to give up the idea to forget a man like that. You shushed Amy as you came closer to him “can i have your number?” You looked up at him seductively, too bad he wasn't buying it. “I'm not supposed to intervene in my client or in any of my client's friends' personal lives” he said without any kind of emotion sparking up his face as he said looking away from you. “oh cmon, i don't mind” you said, not giving up yet.

“I mind,” he looked at you as he said that. You backed away completely defeated.

Amy hold back her laugh as she walked away to buy herself a drink. “Dont be so worked up, lets have some fun, hm?” You asked again, he didn't mind answering you. “Wait, are you and Amy a thing?” You asked now genuinely curious. “Please do not talk” he said as a small blush creeped up on his face. “No way” you said, kind of surprised. “Well, too bad to tell you Amy already has someone” he sat down on one of the spinning chairs around there “i'm aware” he said. “Do you feel bad cheating on your one sided love?” You chuckled, and once again he didn't mind answering.

After some minutes passed he suddenly stood up mid conversation even though you were the one who was doing all the talking. “Where are you going?” You asked, “Amy has been gone for too long” he said as he marched off to find her. “Maybe with her pretty little boyfriend~” you mumbled to yourself when he left.

He came back to where you were, and you realised you were right. From the look on his face he saw them make out, you held back a laugh as he sat down on the same chair. “what?” He asked, “Found them?” you asked through your laugh. “Shut up” he said as his ears turned red. “So, wanna go somewhere?” You asked when your laughter died down. “Where?” He asked. You stood up as you took his hand, dragging him to one of those public restrooms around there. “What are you—” he asked looking around trying to pull his hand away before he could say anything, your lips planted on his.

“Let's blow off some steam, hm?”

you asked when you pulled away, your hands around his waist as you looked up at his face with your siren eyes.

“God” he growled, as his cheeks flushed pink.

His hand grabbed both sides of your face, as he bent himself to plant a kiss to your lips. He kissed you harshly, refusing to pull away as you both pushed inside one of the toilets. His other hand pushed the door shut as he finally pulled away, a trail of spit connecting both of your lips. “Should've agreed when I first asked,” you said, between gasps. He grunted into your neck as a response before kissing, he pulled your skirts and then both of his hands came down to cup your ass. He pushed your underwear to a side before his fingers made contact with your clit, a moan leaving your mouth as he started pinching and flicking you.

He pushed you on to the door, keeping you in place before one his fingers slipped inside you, another moan threatened to come down before you suppressed it. And another finger, and another. “Please, too much—” you said when your legs started shaking. “Shh, you were the one who wanted it so bad, huh? You can take it” he whispered in your ear, you can see himself smirking when he retrieved, to meet your eyes. His painful erection inside his pants poking your abdomen. “Looks like, you- hah,, you are struggling, yourself—” you somehow finished. “Look who's the one talking” he said, giving your clit a slight pinch, “mmmhm” you squirmed. His mouth captured yours again, his hand came up to fist his paining dent. He turned you over and pulled your skirt up, unzipping his pants before pushing in you with a wet sound. “Fuckkk” he groaned. He hugged you from behind as he started slowly pounding in you, one of his hands wrapped around your waist, while his whole body leaned on to yours, his other hand climbed up to clasp around your neck, and he pulled you towards him. Kissing and biting your neck as he keeps on thrusting. The little space didn't matter as long as he had you right now.

You bit down on your lips to hold in your moans. But sounds kept on bubbling up inside you. He slammed into you hard, making your eyes roll back, your legs were losing strength you cannot hold on any longer. “What’s the matter, hm? Cat got your tongue?” he grumbled, you could feel him smirking when he said that. “S—shuttt uup” you mewled. “Gladd— Gladd to see Mr. Bodyguard,, sooo workedd up— overr me thooo” you teased. The grasp on your neck tightened slightly when you said that, before he crashed his lips onto yours again. “You are much prettier when you don't talk, love” he said as he pulled away for a moment, “would you do that for me, huh?” he nuzzled inside you for a while before he started moving again, your walls clenched on to him, as he struggled to keep on moving. “I-— I refusee-” he thrusted into you roughly before you can even finish. A loud moan leaving you when you weren't expecting.

“Fine.”

“Just, shut up and take it like a good girl” he kissed the nape of your nape as he said, before he picked up his pace. Feeling him twitch uncontrollably inside you, he breathed heavily before he quickly pulled out as he came on your ass, ropes of cum, dripping down your body. Both of you panting heavily for a good 15 minutes.

“So, can I have your number now?” you asked, still struggling to stand up.

#jjkfic #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami x reader #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento smut #kento x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk #j

38 notes · View notes

2neaky · 19 hours

Text

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET TO YOU୨ৎ

— ೀ𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝙼𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙰 𝙵𝙸𝙲 | 𝙼𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚌ੈ P2

| 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞/𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧! | -> Part 1 here

today wasn't an easy day. they lost a patient on the table.

his team tried their best, nanami has no doubts about that. but the patient had multiple complications even prior to the surgery. he knew it would be a huge risk, one the family was willing to take. he hoped the odds would be in their favor.

however, they were outweighed severely.

this isn't the first time a patient has passed. but it never gets easier. in his residency days, when a patient death occurred, after work, he found himself turning to an unlikely source for distraction—instagram.

he can remember yu teasing him about it when he found out. it didn't last long, much to nanami's relief.

at first, he solely used the account for watching art videos. they bought him entertainment and kept his mind off of the sadness for a little while. but as he continued using the app, over the years, nanami found himself becoming more interested in art altogether.

during his break at work, he would do quick, "sloppy" sketches. and at home, he'd redraw them to perfection. it wasn't until four years of him just being a lurking account that nanami made his first post: a detailed sketch of the garden at the hospital he served his residency at. yu was his first commentor:

he posted another drawing a week later. yu was always the first to comment. nanami never got many likes and hardly any comments (besides yu's). but he didn't mind. he wasn't posting for likes.

he just wanted to share his art with whoever would see it. besides, his account was faceless and he had no intention of ever showing his face. this was purely for his own enjoyment—an archive of his work.

but as that archive grew, so did the likes, the comments, and the followers. seven years as a faceless art account, nanami had organically amassed 1.2m followers. and all his followers have to go off of are his hands, which were starting to get him into trouble as of late.

in the spare room of his apartment is where he does his art. recently, he started doing time-lapsed shots of him making sketches or doing drawing challenges circulating the internet.

one of his reels went viral, the comment section filled with viewers thirsting over the veins in his arms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves. since that video, he can’t escape that kind of attention. and, honestly, it’s starting to get annoying.

but never mind that. this not-so-secret hobby of his is starting to feel like a second job. his large following comes with sponsorships. and those came in handy whenever he was inbetween jobs or as just money to put away for future savings.

but those sponsorships also came with deadlines and contracts. for the last year, with work and just the overall dissatisfaction with his art, nanami has been posting significantly less.

his followers have noticed, too, begging him to post more content. for all they know, he’s just some guy who only does art. he has yet to share any part of his personal life with them. but even outside of social media, he wasn’t drawing as much.

he just can’t bring himself to do it. even in this funk nanami’s feeling, he can’t even do a small sketch. even reading requires too much mental labor.

really, he just wants to turn his brain off. the statement rings as true now as it did all those years ago: technology is a distraction.

‘the perfect one,’ he thinks as he mindlessly scrolls through instagram.

double-tap and scroll.

it’s a good thing tomorrow is one of his off-days. but even with the threat of being on-call, he can’t fight the temptation to stay awake doom-scrolling.

he’s been lost track of time. hell, he wasn’t even liking any art posts at this point, having scrolled far outside of his typical niche.

just trouble waiting to happen..

and that’s how he stumbles upon her:

she snaps him out of his mindless scrolling by her sheer beauty. the little demon on his shoulder tells him to take a look at her account, just for a couple of minutes. it’s not too serious to let his eyes stray for only a moment.

this night, user @ Kento_ART’s following list grew one user bigger.

#black reader #black y/n #it girl #pink aesthetic #nanami x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x you #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #kento x you #jujutsu kento #kento x y/n #kento x reader #jjk kento #social media #influencer

33 notes · View notes

missvelvetsstuff · 6 hours

Text

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 5

Warnings: swearing, angst

It was almost 8pm when Sam sat down to eat dinner in the compounds dining room with Steve, Clint and Nat. They were all exhausted, having been awake since 3am trying to get a lead on Bucky and Sharon's whereabouts.

He craned his neck and looked around the crowded room.

"Hey, has anyone seen Cookie? I stopped by her office earlier but haven't seen her since. She has a bad habit of working through meals and bed time."

The others all shook their heads and mumbled something in the negative.

Sam frowned "I should take some food up to her, maybe remind her to get some sleep."

Nat scoffed "She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, it wouldn't hurt her to skip a meal. Or two."

Sam gave her an off look "What the Hell Romanoff? Cookie's gorgeous as she is, why are your claws out? Still miffed Barnes was giving her so much attention?"

Nat smirked "Was being the keyword in that sentence. Watching that little social climber being iced out by the Winter Soldier has been a source of great joy for me. She should have stayed in her lane with the other nerds instead of trying to sleep her way up."

Sam shook his head "Mee-ow, Romanoff. Didn't realize you felt so threatened by her. Well I'm going to look in on her. See you around."

Sam went into the kitchen to make a plate for Cookie before heading up to her office.

Clint looked at Nat "What is your problem with Cookie? She's a sweetheart and the best analyst here. I'm gonna hit my rack while I can. Later."

Nat sat with Steve for a few more minutes before standing up. "I have some leads to look into. See ya."

Steve shook his head at his friends strange behavior but wrote it off as stress over the missing agents and dove into his food.

Sam left the elevator on the mission support floor and was surprised to find Cookie's office locked up, lights out. He figured she must have gone to bed and headed for her room. He knocked on her door and when there was no response he felt like he needed to be sure.

"Friday? Where's Cookie?"

"Agent Y/L/N left the compound with Agent Iris Daniels at 1:17 this afternoon."

"Wait, what? She's gone?"

"Yes Captain Wilson."

Sam shook his head "This isn't good. Why would she just leave?" He mumbled to himself, before asking

"Friday, did she leave any word of where she was going or when she would return?"

"I'm sorry Captain Wilson she didn't."

"Fuck! Friday, can you find her?"

"I'm on it, Captain."

"Where's Stark?"

"Mr Stark is in his lab."

"Can you tell him I'm on my way there. We need to talk. And tell Rogers too."

"Of course, Captain."

Sam hurried up to Tony Starks lab, followed by Steve.

Tony looked up "What's up, Captains? Any leads on Carter and Barnes?"

Sam shook his head "No, there's another problem."

Tony tensed "Now what?"

"Cookie is gone. She left early this afternoon with one of her analysts. Didn't leave a note or tell anyone where she went. I tried to call both of them but it went straight to voicemail. Considering the tension between Cookie, Bucky and Carter this seems to have gotten more serious. Cookie knows more about the classified workings here than anyone else. Carter might find her useful."

Steve tried to protest "I'm sure Cookie is just following a lead, I doubt she's in any kind of trouble. Just because she had a falling out with Bucky, doesn't mean he would let anything happen to her."

Tony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Really Rogers? I know you're not around much but Barnes and Carter have effectively iced Cookie out, she's with Sam more than she's with Barnes." he rubbed his neck

"Friday, any clues where they might have gone?"

"No, boss but Captain Wilson started a search for her and the agent she left with. I'll let you know if I find them."

Sam looked at Tony "There has to be more we can do than sit here waiting for one of them to pop up in Fridays search."

Tony sighed "Friday, how did they leave the compound?"

"They took one of your cars, boss."

Tony shouted, Sam and Steve flinched "That's it, find that car."

"I'll notify you when I do Mr Stark."

Tony notified the rest of the team to suit up and be ready to go as soon as they had a location.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky woke up with a start, he could feel that he was sitting on a dirt floor, against a cold concrete wall, wrists bound behind his back with some kind of handcuffs that he couldn't get out of. Ankles bound together as well. He opened his eyes and the room was dark with a musty, earthy smell. He couldn't see much and concluded he was probably in a basement since there were no windows.

He shook his head to try and clear it.

He remembered talking to Sharon after waking up in a cabin upstate but when he tried to remember anything else his head started pounding again and he gave up.

Bucky decided to see if he could find anything and pushed against the wall to stand up. He kept next to the wall and took small steps around the room to see if he could find a way out or if there was anything he could use as a weapon.

He bumped into what felt like another wall but he couldn't see it, even though his eyes were adjusted to the dark, and it seemed too close to be a wall. He shuffled along next to it until he came to another corner.

Bucky snapped around when he heard a door open then flinched when a light came on.

"Aahhh, you're awake finally. Your little friend is still out so we will have to wait to get started."

Bucky moved towards the voice and ran into a clear wall but could see her on the other side of the wall smiling. He growled when he couldn't push through the wall. "Sharon? What the fuck is going on?"

Sharon chuckled "Oh Bucky, poor confused baby. I'm not a Bond villain who is going to explain my whole plan while you figure out how to escape. You'll just have to wait and see. Don't worry your precious Cookie should be awake soon."

She motioned her head to his right.

Bucky felt like he couldn't breathe when he saw Cookie tied up on the floor and unconscious, in a second, smaller room with clear walls. Sharon approached her and dumped a bucket of water on her before leaving that room and sitting on one of the steps that led upstairs.

Cookie jerked and spluttered awake when the water hit her "Wh what th th the fuck?"

Sharon clapped happily "Oh good, you're awake. Don't worry, this won't take too long. I'm just so excited that we finally get to do this."

Bucky slammed his shoulder against the wall with no effect. "Dammit Sharon, let her go. She doesn't have anything to do with this. You have me, I did everything you asked so just leave her alone."

Sharon giggled "That's not true, you refused to kill her for me but don't worry, we're going to fix that today."

Bucky shook his head "No Sharon, you don't need to do this. You already have me."

Sharon sighed "Typical man, thinks it's all about him. Did it ever occur to you that the head of intel might be valuable to bad actors? Her head has so much information, more than anyone except maybe Fury."

Cookie spoke up "You're crazy if you think I'm telling you anything. I don't care if you torture me. You won't get anything from me."

Sharon laughed "You know, most of the people who say that end up spilling their guts when it starts to hurt. That's ok, I have other options. Antonia?"

A woman came down the stairs to stand next to Sharon, Cookie did a double take "Antonia? Dreykov? But that's Iris? What are you doing here? You said we-" she shook her head "You're the mole. Why?"

Antonia pulled off the photostatic veil to reveal her own face and smiled "For my father, to bring the Red Room back to its former glory. Once you're gone, I'll take your job and be able to access all the top level intel you refused to share. If you had just let me in, you wouldn't be here now."

Bucky slammed himself against the wall separating him from Sharon. "No, please. You can't kill her. I'll go with you willingly, I'll be yours, just don't hurt her."

Sharon smirked "You will come with me either way. We've been tweaking the mind control serum that Dreykov created so you shouldn't be able to break free like you have been. The Super soldier serum helped you keep waking up from the mind control but we've found a way to compensate for that so you won't even be sad your precious Cookie is dead." She winked at him "Or that you killed her."

As if on cue Natasha descended the stairs with her sister Yelena and handed a small tranq dart to Sharon "Here's the serum for Barnes. Let's get this over with before Stark figures out where we are."

Bucky stared at Natasha "Why are you doing this? Betraying the Avengers, hurting more innocent people?"

Nat smirked "I told you all of it, don't you remember? The morning after you fucked her.

***Flashback***

Bucky woke up from one of the best nights sleep he had ever had and smiled when he felt a warm body next to him, Cookie. He pulled her into him, amazed that she was here in his bed. That she wanted him too. He could tell the sun wasn't up yet so he closed his eyes and dozed off.

A little while later he woke again, needing to pee, so carefully extracted himself. When he was done he saw the time and hurried to meet Steve and Sam for their morning run.

When he got to the lobby he saw neither of them were there so decided on a short run so he could get back to Cookie. He smiled as he thought about her cuddled up in his bed and spending the day in bed together.

Before he was through the doors he heard Nat calling him. She propositioned him but he refused and told her about him and Cookie.

Nat frowned and shook her head "I have to apologize in advance then." She pulled something out of her pocket and gently slapped his neck.

Bucky pulled back "Owww, what was that?"

Nat sighed "A serum that Dreykov used to control the Widows."

Bucky looked at her, confused "Mind control? What are you doing, Nat? I- whu" he closed his eyes and when he opened them they were emotionless.

Nat grinned "Soldat?"

"готов подчиниться" Ready to comply

Nat smiled "Good boy. Now take your run, then go tell Cookie you just want sex, make some excuse up. And then stay away from her, Sharon will be here soon to be your handler. Once all is said and done, Cookie, Sharon and the rest of the Avengers will all be dead and you will be by my side. The Black Widow and Winter Soldier, running SWORD, HYDRA and the Red Room together."

Bucky nodded.

She showed him a picture of Sharon and repeated "Handler"

Then she patted his cheek "Go on, Soldat. Complete your mission."

Bucky nodded "миссия" Mission

Nat shook her head "That won't do. Soldat? I need you to act like Barnes or this won't work. Relax"

Soldat nodded and smirked "Of course, Natty. I'll take care of everything for you."

Then jogged off around the lake before heading back to the compound to break Cookies heart.

***end Flashback***

Bucky shook his head "Why did you make me hurt Cookie? I would never do that, I'm in love with her."

Cookie gasped "But-"

Sharon snapped "But nothing. I'm bored" she went into the room where Bucky was. He tried to fight her but with his arms and legs bound she was able to get close enough to hit him with the dart. She quickly backed away and Nat pushed a button that lowered the wall between Soldat and Cookie.

"Soldat?"

Bucky stood up straight "готов подчиниться" Ready to comply

Cookie cried out "No, Bucky please. Don't let her do this. Bucky!!"

Natasha glared at Cookie and clicked on a remote that unlocked Bucky's restraints "Enough of your whining. Soldat, kill her."

The Soldat nodded and then turned to Cookie who was cowering against the wall. She tried to push herself up to standing but the Soldat was too fast and wrapped his vibranium hand around her throat and lifted her up until her feet couldn't reach the ground.

Cookie looked at the cold face of her friend, the man she had loved for 2 years and rasped out "Bucky. Please." She looked into his emotionless eyes and she realized this was it, she closed her eyes and tried to say "I forgive you" as she lost consciousness.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits

32 notes · View notes

hbyrde36 · 1 day

Text

No Vacancy

Chapter 10: Lost and Found

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

WC: 5196 | Explicit | AO3 link

*STEVE*

It took Steve a moment to remember where he was when a very loud, very annoying alarm went off right next to his head at the crack of dawn. The man in his arms was familiar, even if the surroundings weren’t, but as he glanced around at the old band posters and polaroids stuck to the wall, and let Eddie’s scent fill his nose, the last two days came back in a rush.

He rolled over, the sheets sliding down his body as he leaned out to stop the incessant beeping of the bedside clock, and was hit with a sudden surge of nerves. He believed in his heart that the other man had meant everything he said yesterday and last night, but couldn't help the nagging fear that Eddie might wake up and take it all back in the light of a new day.

He felt instant guilt for even thinking it, and did his best to push those thoughts away, to not assume the worst, to give Eddie the benefit of the doubt. That’s what they’d promised each other, right? They were going to do better, be better, both of them.

Before he could turn back he felt the bed dip, and a warm hand came up under his shirt to rest on his lower back, kneading for a moment before slipping down beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, cupping his ass.

“Mmm g’mornin’,’” Eddie hummed, his lips finding their way to Steve’s side with a soft kiss through the cotton.

Steve had never hated a bit of fabric more.

At the same time Eddie’s hand ventured even lower, until one finger slid between his cheeks, teasing over his hole. Despite himself, and his still swirling thoughts of doubt, Steve arched his back, pressing into the touch a little, always so ready to be filled by any part of Eddie’s body—fingers, tongue, cock, he loved them all.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he wasn’t so far gone that he forgot where they were, or how thin the walls of the trailer might be.

Steve took a deep, sobering breath and looked back at Eddie over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t let you blow me last night with your uncle in the other room, did you really think I’d let you fuck me this morning?”

Eddie grinned, his eyes sparkling with it. “No, but I do love getting you all riled up anyway.”

“Menace.” Steve shook his head and turned back over to face his boyfriend before he lost control and gave in to temptation.

Eddie wrapped him up in his arms automatically, using one hand to smooth the sleep mussed hair back from his face as they gazed into each other’s bleary eyes. Steve swallowed hard, heart aching with how close he’d come to losing this.

And something must have shown on his face because Eddie tilted his head, his pleased grin dropping into a small sad smile as he continued to run fingers through Steve’s hair. “You’re wondering if I still mean it, right? Everything I said yesterday?”

“I didn’t say–”

Eddie interrupted with a tender kiss to his forehead. “You didn’t have to.”

“Eddie–”

“Baby, it’s okay. I might be the one always talking about having trust issues and stuff, but I haven't given you a lot of reason to trust me—have I?”

Steve looked away, it was a rhetorical question, which by definition didn’t require an answer but it also felt like a trick or something, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to respond. It should be better now that they’d talked and worked things out, right? So why was he suddenly feeling more insecure than ever?

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, gently coaxing Steve to look at him again. “I knew I'd have to earn it back. I might not have much experience with relationships, but I do know that one conversation, even with those three little words involved, isn’t a magic wand. I hurt you.”

Steve pursed his lips. “I hurt you too.”

“I’m just saying, it’s fair of you to wonder—to be worried. I’m happy to reassure you whenever…”

Eddie leaned in, pressing a series of kisses along the line of Steve’s jaw.

“And however…”

His warm breath ghosted over Steve’s ear as he took the lobe between his teeth.

“You need.”

“I love you,” Steve gasped.

“I love you too.”

In order to avoid another intense make-out session that would only leave them both hard and wanting with no chance of release—or, god forbid, have Steve giving in, begging to be bent over the side of the bed—he insisted they get up and get a move on.

Eddie whined but finally agreed, since he was the one who had insisted on the early wake up call to begin with, wanting to get back early enough to work things out with Chrissy before another night could go by. He was also far too pleased with himself when Steve banished him to the other side of the room while they both stripped down to change. It was only practical since neither of them could seem to keep their hands to themselves right now.

“Do you need to stop for gas or anything before we get on the highway?” Steve asked. “I thought I’d follow you and maybe we could take a look at the map and pick a place to stop for lunch together, stretch our legs and stuff.”

Eddie didn’t answer right away, remaining quiet as he rummaged through his bag, finally pulling a clean t-shirt free from the mess inside and slipping it over his head, jeans already on and zipped up.

“Eddie?”

“Actually, I was thinking, ” Eddie rubbed at the back of his neck, looking suddenly nervous.

Steve held his breath.

“What if I left my van here for now, so we could drive back together?”

Steve’s mouth popped open, eyebrows flying up before he could stop them. “Really? B-but that’s…” He didn’t even know what to say, it was beyond unexpected.

As casual as can be, as if this wasn’t a huge deal, Eddie sat down on the end of the bed to pull his socks on, glancing up as he said, “I know.”

“Is this just so you can’t run away again?” Steve said it lightly, trying to tease, but in all honesty he wanted to know—needed to know if Eddie had really thought this through. It was sweet, in a way, but he didn’t want the other man to wind up feeling trapped.

Eddie got up, crossed the room to where Steve stood and took the shirt out of his hand—still so in shock he’d just been standing there half dressed holding it

“Gotta start putting trust into practice sometime.” Eddie said softly, raising the crisp white t-shirt over Steve’s head for him, and pecking him on the nose when it popped through the opening. “And I do trust you. Even if something were to happen between us, I know you would bring me back here if I asked.”

It settled some of Steve's nerves to hear that Eddie knew that and accepted it, because it was the truth. Even if they went down in flames one day, Steve would still do anything for this man.

“Pretty sure Wayne would come get you if you needed him to.”

“And that, yes.” Eddie smiled. “It’s not like I use it much, everything I need is within walking distance of the motel. I can live without it for a bit. Besides, it’ll be worth it to be able to sit next to you for the next however many hours, instead of us both making the drive alone, again.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. Let’s hit the road.”

Steve worried his lip, sitting behind the wheel of his car, the same BMW he’d had since high school, watching in the rear view mirror as Eddie grabbed a few last things out of his van and jogged back over, tossing it all and his bag on the back seat before sliding into the front.

He was nervous all over again, for an entirely different reason this time as he started the engine and pulled out of the drive, turning left instead of right once they passed the Forest Hills Trailer Park sign.

Eddie didn’t say anything, but eyed him curiously.

Steve cleared his throat. “I need to make a quick stop by my place on the way out of town. If, uh, if that’s okay?”

He braced himself, expecting Eddie to ask why, or maybe be annoyed at the extra stop—or the fact that Steve was being a little cagey about the whole thing by not having mentioned it till now—but instead Eddie lit up.

“Sure! I'd love to see where you’re living now. I kinda can’t imagine you anywhere in Hawkins besides school or your parents' old place.”

Steve shuddered. “God, I hated that house.”

Eddie reached out immediately, a sympathetic look on his face as he placed a hand on Steve's knee, warm and comforting. In their short time together they’d already shared so much about their pasts. Eddie knew all about Steve’s lonely upbringing, and how his parents hadn’t taken kindly to the idea of their only son dating men, something they had found out by accident, and promised to keep secret. Though, Steve suspected that promise had been made solely to save their own reputation, not his, and he’d stopped speaking to them not long after that. Then they’d moved, and hadn’t bothered to leave a forwarding address.

The little two bedroom house wasn’t far from Wayne’s place. Within minutes they were there, parking just behind the mailbox.

The outside was nothing special, dingy white siding, browning grass and a barren garden. He hadn’t seen the point in planting anything when he wouldn’t be there all summer to enjoy it, or even water it.

The inside was… also nothing special. Leaving Steve feeling more than a little self conscious as he unlocked the door, ushering Eddie inside. He’d almost forgotten how plain and bare-bones his house was. Sad second hand couch, beige, utilitarian side and coffee tables, a slightly darker shade of beige, and horrible brown carpeting. That one wasn’t his fault though, it’d come with the house.

Nothing hung on his walls. There wasn’t even a single magnet on his fridge, which you could see from the living room because the place was that damn small. The only real signs of life in the space were two framed photos sitting on the table next to the couch. One of him and Robin standing outside her dorm on move-in day, freshman year, the other of his favorite class of middle-schoolers, a group of boys who’d fallen afoul of a few bullies and had trouble fitting in that he’d taken under his wing. They were all in high school now, so he didn't see them much anymore, but he would always remember them fondly.

“How long did you say you’ve been renting this place?” Eddie asked, turning a slow circle, taking it all in—what little there was to take in anyway.

Suddenly embarrassed, Steve wished he’d asked Eddie to wait for him in the car. It all just made him look so… pathetic, and boring, and he didn’t want Eddie to think this is what his life would look like if they stayed together.

He blew out a long breath. “Three years.”

“Oh.”

“I–uh–I guess I never really settled in or decorated, because I never planned to stay in Hawkins this long in the first place. Like, if I made the house more my own it would be admitting defeat? Or jinxing myself to be stuck here forever.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m not judging you.”

Steve shot him a look.

Eddie raised his hands. “Okay, I was judging a little bit—I’m sorry! It’s just, you deserve so much better than a shit brown rug and blank walls, y’know? You have this great bright personality, and I wish you’d let it show in your own home.”

“When I find a place I actually want to call home, maybe I'll do that.”

Steve’s heart fluttered at the thought of Eddie seeing him that way. He closed the distance between them, their mouths meeting in a furious kiss as he pushed Eddie back until he was forced to sit down on the couch, and climbed into his lap.

As if just realizing that they were finally alone, with no one potentially eavesdropping from another room, Eddie pulled Steve down into him, their lips meeting again and again while they ground against each other, both already growing hard in their jeans.

Steve gripped at Eddie’s shirt, pulling back just long enough to yank it over his head before taking his own off too, tossing them both to the floor. He needed this, needed Eddie’s bare skin against his. Words were lovely, but they’d always communicated best with their bodies. Eddie had said he loved him, now Steve wanted to feel it, wanted Eddie to mark it into his flesh—was desperate for it.

“Wanna ride you.” Steve gasped out as Eddie began to nip and suck at his neck.

“Gonna need a little less clothes for that, sweetheart.” Eddie reached around Steve’s back, running the tip of his finger along the seam in the ass of his jeans. Steve shuddered, feeling a wave of heat, breaking out in goosebumps all over.

He stood, eyes never wavering from Eddie’s as he undid his fly, pushing his jeans to the floor in one smooth motion and stepped out of them, while Eddie did the same, raising his hips so he could shove his own pants down to his ankles.

Steve climbed back on top, sighing happily at finally having all of Eddie bare under his touch again. They’d done little more than kiss yet and he was already almost painfully hard, but so was Eddie, both groaning when their hard lengths slid against each other—and when Eddie tapped at his lips with two fingers, Steve didn’t hesitate to take them into his mouth, running his tongue between the digits until they were coated in his spit.

Once satisfied that they were wet enough, Eddie pulled his fingers out from between Steve’s lips, replacing them with his tongue, fucking it into Steve’s mouth as he did the same to his hole, pressing one finger inside to the knuckle right away, neither having the patience for teasing.

“More,” Steve demanded after a whopping thirty seconds. Usually he was more than happy to let Eddie take his time, prep him slowly until he thought he would lose his mind, but after denying themselves last night, and again this morning, Steve was feeling nothing short of insane already. He didn’t care if it hurt, he just needed Eddie inside him as soon as possible.

Eddie must have felt it too because he didn’t argue, just worked a second finger in next to the first, scissoring them as soon as he could to speed the process up, as hungry for this as Steve was.

It burned, but not in a bad way, if anything the pain was feeding his desire for the man beneath him.

“Please,” Steve begged, as soon as he was loose enough that Eddie could move freely in and out of him. “I’m ready–”

“Okay, baby, I’ve got you–I’ve got you. Do you have lube somewhere? Condoms?”

And Steve really needed to calm down because he hadn’t even thought about it—was ready to just sink down on Eddie bare with nothing but spit slicking him, without hesitation.

“When did you get tested last?” He asked, panting. Apart from his failed hookup with Danny, Steve hadn’t been with anyone since the last time he’d been given a clean bill of health, and if Eddie was clean too maybe they could just—

“Not recently enough to be safe.” Eddie said quickly, not pulling his fingers out but halting their movement. “And I won’t risk you like that, sweetheart. We can do something else.”

Steve whined.

“No, I've got some in the bedroom. I just–” He rocked back, eyes falling shut as he fucked himself gently on Eddie’s still fingers. “I wanna feel you, really feel you. Want you to come inside me.”

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie’s hips rolled as he took a ragged breath. “Bedroom, alright, hold onto me.”

Confused, Steve still did what he asked, gripping Eddie around the shoulders, fighting off another whine as the fingers inside him gently slid out. But then Eddie’s hands were gripping him under the thighs and he was being lifted. He gasped, hooking his legs around Eddie's waist.

Thankfully, Steve’s bedroom was the first door on the right, across from what was obviously a bathroom, so It was easy enough for Eddie to find his way without direction, and once they were near enough Eddie threw him down on the bed.

Steve blinked up at him, mouth half open. “That was so fucking hot.”

“Glad you think so.” Eddie swooped down, pecking him on the mouth as he grabbed his side, grimacing. “But don’t expect a repeat performance, I think I pulled something.”

Steve grinned, Eddie was clearly faking it but he would play along for now—he’d also be filing this information away for later use. He knew the other man was stronger than he looked, but hauling racks of bar glasses was clearly a better workout than he’d thought.

“Aww, why don't you just come lay down then and let me do the rest of the work.”

Steve went for his nightstand drawer while Eddie crawled on hands and knees up the bed, sitting himself up against the headboard.

Just like they’d been on the couch, Steve straddled Eddie's lap, capturing his lips in another deep kiss as he rolled the condom on, spread a bit of lube over him, and finally, finally, positioned himself above and started to sink down on Eddie’s cock, leaning in till their foreheads touched.

“When we get back would you–” Steve sucked in a breath as he bottomed out only to raise right back up again, giving himself no time to adjust. “C-could we get tested and then–”

“Yes,” Eddie breathed, bucking his hips as Steve rode, bouncing up and down, low guttural sounds being punched out of him with every thrust. “Fuck—yes, yes to all of that.”

It wasn’t long before Steve was coming untouched, making a mess of both of them, too worked up to last. Eddie went right behind him, spilling into the condom while Steve was still clenching around him.

With trembling thighs, Steve raised up, wincing at the sudden empty feeling, and took care of the condom before collapsing beside Eddie to cuddle while he waited for his limbs to feel less like jello.

“As much as I’d love to lay here with you all day, and maybe do that again, we should probably get going.” Steve said eventually.

Eddie made a very unhappy sound that Steve wholeheartedly agreed with, but they both got up anyway and stumbled into the small bathroom, taking turns swiping a wet washcloth over the other's chest.

When they were as clean as they were going to get without showers, Eddie ducked out of the room to grab their clothes, turning to the mirror while he waited, admiring the flush of his skin along with a few very faint but very much there bite marks Eddie had left for him on his neck like little gifts.

Eddie was back seconds later, appearing in the doorway with his pants already back on slung low around his hips, belt still hanging loose.

Steve frowned.

“Don’t pout, we can’t drive around naked—decency laws.” Eddie shook his head, chuckling as he handed Steve the pile of his clothes.

“Fine.” Steve grumbled playfully, watching Eddie shake his hair out and re-do his bun in the mirror while he got dressed.

“Hey, so what was it you needed to stop for anyway? Or was that just an excuse to bring me here and have your way with me?” Eddie asked when they were both presentable for public consumption again, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve froze. He’d known the question was inevitable, but he’d let himself get lost in Eddie’s body and almost forgotten why they were here.

The answer caught in his throat. He was about to shine a giant spotlight on the one thing they had yet to address about this whole situation—the fact that the Summer was going to end eventually, and they would both, presumably, need to resume their normal lives—that they might have put each other through all of this for something with a rapidly approaching expiration date.

This was it though, Steve’s turn to put trust into practice, as Eddie had put it. He could not keep something this big to himself again, even if it meant having a conversation they maybe weren’t ready for just yet.

He took Eddie’s hand and led him down the hall into the spare bedroom that doubled as his office, sitting him down on the small guest bed while he rifled through his desk, and pulled out an accordion binder full of papers.

“My resume and teaching certificate—some other paperwork.” Steve tapped the binder against his leg nervously as he spoke. “I know we haven't talked about what happens after this, when the clock runs out and Summer ends, but um, I want to tell you how my own plans have changed.”

Steve's heart raced. He took a deep breath as he set the paperwork down on top of the desk, and crossed the room to sit next to Eddie.

“There's an open position at the Elementary School in the motel’s district. Robin told me before the Summer even started, so, I was already considering it. I mean, there’s nothing keeping me here. I’m ready to leave Hawkins behind, and why wouldn't I want to be closer to her? But finding out the motel was in trouble was the last straw. Why keep paying rent to some random asshole in this backwoods town when I could be paying that same rent to two of my best friends to help them stay afloat?”

“You’re moving into the motel permanently?” Eddie’s tone was almost excruciatingly neutral, giving nothing away about what he might be thinking or feeling… about any part of it.

Steve nodded. “Technically I still have to hand in my resume and be interviewed, but I've spoken to the superintendent and she said it’s just a formality at this point. The job is mine if I want it.”

Eddie didn’t say anything more when he was done. Not that he needed to say anything, but it was nerve wracking as hell. Steve turned, drawing his leg up onto the mattress so he could fully face Eddie and took hold of both his hands, fighting to look the other man in the eyes and not shy away.

“Let me be completely clear, because I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings between us. I don’t know what your plans are, or were, and I’m not pressuring you to change them, but I would love it if you decided to stay too when the season is over.”

Eddie dropped his gaze suddenly, looking down at their tangled hands with a furrowed brow for a moment before raising his head again.

As much as Steve wanted an answer, to know what Eddie was thinking right now, this wasn’t the same as agreeing to leave a car behind temporarily. This was big plans for the future shit, and Steve was acutely aware that Eddie didn’t usually make a habit of staying in the same place for very long.

“You don't have to say or decide anything right now. In fact, please don’t. Just… think about it?”

Eddie opened his mouth as if he were going to say something anyway, but in the end just nodded, squeezing Steve’s hands and simply whispered, “okay.”

Eddie remained quiet and thoughtful for the first hour or so of the drive, staring out the window at the world going by with an unreadable expression on his face. It wasn’t exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn’t comfortable either, to Steve at least, and the only thing keeping him from spiraling was Eddie’s hand on his thigh, his thumb moving back and forth in reassuring strokes.

It wasn't until they stopped for gas, Eddie going into the little shop to stock them up on drinks and snacks while Steve filled the tank, that the whisper of tension in the air started to dissipate. It got even better when Steve suggested now might be the perfect time for Eddie to give him the musical education he was supposedly in desperate need of.

Eddie jumped at the opportunity immediately, pulling a small cardboard box up front that he’d taken out of the van, which Steve had seen of course, and began rifling through his collection of tapes.

They started out easy with Metallica, something Eddie thought Steve might actually like, and Steve was only a little surprised to find he did, and that he’d even heard one of the songs before—Enter Sandman, it was getting a lot of play on the radio these days.

For hours Eddie played song after song for him—a few Steve knew, a lot he didn’t—but even if some of them were a little too hard for his tastes, he was happy to listen anyway, and even happier to let Eddie regale him with stories about each band.

Sometimes he’d talk about seeing a group live, what city it had been in, how he’d had to fight his way through the pit, stuff like that. Other times he’d dish out gossip about the band members themselves. Like how Ozzy Osborne had been fired from Black Sabbath, replaced by Ronnie James Dio—who then left himself to form his own band and created one of Eddie’s favorite albums of all time.

And maybe Steve didn’t get metal, but he loved a bit of second hand drama.

They stopped again in the afternoon, well past lunchtime but too early for dinner, so they had no trouble snagging a picnic table for themselves at a rest stop to have a break from the road and eat their fast food burgers together in the sun.

On the way back to the car Steve tossed his keys to Eddie and walked himself over to the passenger side of the BMW.

Eddie gaped. “But you don’t let anyone drive your car.”

“You’re not just anyone.”

“Steve Harrington, did you just use a line on me?”

“Did it work?”

Eddie pulled his tongue between his teeth. “I dunno, it was pretty weak. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Steve didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until the car shut off, the soothing hum of the engine going quiet abruptly.

“Hey, sweetheart. We’re here.”

He blinked his eyes open, rubbing at them and stretching before undoing his seat belt. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to drop off on you.”

“You were tired, it’s been a long few days.”

They were parked in the motel lot, facing the front office and Steve could see Robin and Chrissy through the window, standing behind the desk. It didn’t look like they’d noticed his car pull up.

Eddie blew out a long breath, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how worried do I need to be about Robin trying to assassinate me? Am I going to get a warning and a last meal before I'm executed, or do I need to start sleeping with my eyes open?”

Steve patted his leg and got out of the car without a word, walking slowly towards the building. He smiled to himself, holding in a laugh as he heard Eddie scrambling along behind him.

“Steve?” Eddie called out, sounding legitimately nervous at the idea of facing his best friend's wrath.

Steve lost it, cackling, and kept walking ahead.

“Why are you laughing?!” Eddie hissed. “What does that mean—Steeeeve?”

Eddie caught up just as Steve reached the door. Instead of reaching for the handle he decided to put the other man out of his misery and turned, taking Eddie’s hand as he leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “She’ll have to get through me first. Don’t worry, I'll protect you from the big bad lesbian.”

Robin looked up as soon as they came through the door and rushed out from behind the counter.

“Well, I’d ask how it went, but you’re both here, and–” She gestured at their linked hands.

“Robin, who are you–” Chrissy came out from her office in the back, eyes going wide when she spotted them all standing together in the lobby. “You’re back!” She shouted, and came flying out from behind the counter to throw herself into Eddie’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” She cried as Eddie pulled her into his chest.

“We,” Robin cut in, biting her lip. “we’re sorry for lying about the room and setting you two up. It wasn’t our place… and maybe not our best idea.”

“It’s okay. Not that I'm condoning your act of trickery but…” Eddie glanced at Steve, a crooked smile on his face as he rocked Chrissy back and forth in his arms. “I suppose in this one instance even I have to admit it worked out. And… I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”

Steve threw his arm over Robin's shoulder, both of them watching on fondly as their significant others made up.

Chrissy shook her head, wiping her eyes on Eddie’s shirt. “I don’t care about that. I shouldn’t have been trying to keep it a secret—not from Robin and not from you. I just thought I could handle it on my own and not worry anyone else, but I got in over my head.”

Eddie pulled back to look at her, gripping her firmly by the shoulders. “You know I love you, right? I’ll do anything I can to help—and in case I never said it, I’m so fucking proud of you and the life you’ve made for yourself, from going to college and graduating to opening this place. You don’t have anything to prove to me or anyone else.”

Chrissy beamed. “I love you too.”

Steve tried to hold it in but a yawn forced its way out of his mouth. It was getting late and even after his car nap he was beat—he also had to be back on the beach again first thing in the morning for a shift.

Chrissy finally let Eddie go, giving him a little push. “Go take your man to bed.”

Robin snorted.

“Not like that!” Chrissy giggled, face turning beet red. “He’s tired!”

“Hey, so I know you two made up and all,” Robin began, switching the lights off as they all went for the door. “But now that it’s all out in the open—if you, uh, wanted your own rooms..?”

The question hung in the air as Steve looked at Eddie, leaving the decision to him.

“Thanks, but I think we’ll stay together.”

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Permanent taglist: @penny00dreadful @hitlikehammers @pearynice @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari

Fic taglist: @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @epiclazershark

@estrellami-1 @lokfae @raisedbylibrarians @impala314 @meganwinchester

@kacatshi @warlordess @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @garden-of-gay @meela86

@gregre369 @finntheehumaneater

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #90's beach motel au #no upside down au #steddie #buckingham #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #no vacancy

31 notes · View notes

laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 2 days

Text

All through season 3, I was looking for reasons to let go of Tech, but hope just wouldn't die and until the finale I still thought there was a chance Tech would turn out to be alive and well. Even with this hope I found it... odd... that the show skipped over the inevitable conversation between Omega and Crosshair with Crosshair learning what happened to Tech. So I wrote this just a few days after the season 3 premiere and posted it to AO3 since I didn't have tumblr at the time. I'm posting it here now, mostly because the past few days this blog has turned into one of my ways of fully processing Tech's death.

NOTE: the first two sections are scenes directly from the show. I included them to clarify the timeline of events and add some detail as to what I imagine was informing Crosshair's thoughts and remarks during the second scene in particular.

Revelation

“Crosshair!”

No. It couldn’t be.

“Crosshair?”

He must still be dreaming, stuck in the nightmare…

“Crosshair?”

The voice sounded just like Omega, but that would mean Omega was here. And if Omega were here, that would mean his brothers…

“You must be Omega.” He knew that voice, and Emerie Karr’s statement removed all doubt.

“What did you do to Crosshair?” he heard Omega reply.

“He’s recovering. I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the doctor….”

He kept his eyes closed, feigning continued unconsciousness, wishing he had never awoken.

**********

“Crosshair. I tried to come earlier, but there were too many guards watching me.”

Crosshair sighed. He had noticed Omega’s attempts to catch his attention when they passed each other in the halls, and had deliberately ignored her. He couldn’t very well do so now. “You shouldn’t be down here at all.”

“Well, how else are we gonna plan an escape?”

Where did the kid get her unfailing optimism? But hope was useless here – worse than useless. Best to disabuse her of any fanciful notions before she was crushed any further by the weight of disappointment. “There is no ‘we,’” he replied curtly as he sat up to face her, “and there is no escape. I’ve already tried.”

He wouldn’t tell her the details of what had happened: that the primary objective of his “escape attempt” had been to warn his brothers about the danger they and Omega were in. Omega hadn’t yet told him whether the message had been received, and Crosshair had no inclination to broach the subject. Believing he had failed in getting the message to his brothers was easier to stomach than knowing the message had been delivered yet still yielded this outcome.

Thankfully, Omega didn’t probe for details – she was still too focused on the prospect of freedom. “Every stronghold has a weak point,” she was saying now, before adding thoughtfully, “Maybe I can convince Emerie to help. She’s one of us.”

No. This had to be nipped in the bud. If Crosshair managed to teach the kid anything, it had to be this, the one crucial lesson that was even more important than learning that hope was pointless. “Not every clone is your ally,” he warned her firmly. “You trust too easily.”

Omega looked taken aback for only a second before resisting the lesson. “Maybe you don’t trust enough,” she retorted.

Crosshair wished he could think of precisely what to say to convince her of her errors in judgment, but his hand started shaking… Blast, he thought as he gripped his hands together, hoping Omega hadn’t noticed.

“Crosshair?” she said gently; and he knew she had noticed. Yet more proof that hope was useless.

He wouldn’t let her see any more. He didn’t need any more reminders of his shortcomings, his failures, his mistakes, his losses. If he couldn’t teach the kid just how futile it was to hope and trust, maybe he could at least convince her to stop doing things that would put her in more danger. “Just… go, before you make things worse for both of us.”

Omega hesitated only briefly before turning to leave, and Crosshair thought that maybe he had succeeded – but then she spoke once more. “There has to be a way out of here,” she said, determination adding a layer of steel to her tone. “I’ll find it.”

**********

“You’re awake,” she said cheerfully as she sat cross-legged on the floor.

Crosshair didn’t reply, only fixed her with a sullen stare that did nothing to dampen her spirits.

“No one said anything after I came here last time, so I think I might be able to keep visiting you,” Omega went on. “Of course, we’ll have to be discreet when discussing some topics…”

He couldn’t ignore her when he was stuck in a cell, and she was going to keep visiting… “Why are you here?” he cut in sharply.

Omega paused mid-sentence, the slight crease that appeared on her forehead attesting to her confusion even as she gamely shifted topics. “I… well, I don’t have an escape plan yet, but I thought I could…”

“No,” he brusquely interrupted her again, waving his arm to gesture toward the hallway in an attempt to make his meaning clear. “Why are you here, on Tantiss?”

“The Empire captured me,” she answered in a low voice. “I think they want me to make Nala Se cooperate with them.”

Crosshair growled in frustration at the kid again missing the meaning of his query – he had to know, but that wouldn’t make the knowledge any easier to bear. He tried one more time, “What happened?”

Omega went perfectly still, and Crosshair’s heart sank. This is precisely why he had avoided asking about his brothers’ fates; but not knowing meant he could only imagine the worst possibilities. He didn’t let a shred of emotion show on his face, however, as his sister finally moved to reposition herself so she was no longer directly facing him, instead sitting in profile, gazing down the hallway as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

“We… Tech was going through some intel for Echo when he found out you were captured, and then he found the message you sent to warn us. We were trying to track Hemlock’s ship so we could find you. We knew Hemlock would be meeting with Tarkin on Eriadu, so we infiltrated the base to place a tracker on his ship. But…” she faltered, then everything spilled out in a flood of words. “Everything went wrong. We tried to escape, but there was an explosion at the base that left us trapped in a rail car with Imperial troops and ships attacking us. Tech was on the rail line to fix the car and he tried to make it back, but the car was breaking in half and falling off the track, and then the added weight…” Her voice broke, and she took a shuddering breath before soldiering on, “Tech fell, he severed the connection to the broken half of the car and he wouldn’t let us save him…”

The words were like shrapnel ripping through his heart. Hemlock seemed to think the interrogation droids were one of the most effective means of inflicting pain; the experiments were mentally and physically relentless, excruciating, exhausting; but this… This was true torture.

Omega had paused in an effort to regain her composure, wrapping her arms ever more tightly around her knees in an effort to stop shaking. Determinedly looking at the floor, she continued her story, her voice cutting through the void of Crosshair’s bereavement and bringing him back to the current situation with a painful jolt. The way she was rushing and stammering through her story, Crosshair could tell this was the first time she was really thinking about it, the first time she was allowing herself to relive the tragedy, reopening the painful wounds of this memory just so she could satiate his need to know.

He didn’t want to know any more – the worst thing he’d imagined had happened to one of his brothers. But he couldn’t manage to speak, couldn’t beg Omega to stop talking…

“Tech’s repairs worked, the car started moving, but we crashed and… I don’t remember much after that… I woke up and Hunter and Wrecker and I had all been bandaged up by AZI. Then Hemlock found us. Hunter told me to run, but I couldn’t leave them.” Omega’s chin was shaking so hard Crosshair wasn’t sure how she was managing to still speak so clearly. “Hemlock captured Wrecker and Hunter, and I tried to stop him, but one of his guards stunned me and I woke up on Hemlock’s ship.” She paused again; Crosshair, outwardly still and silent as stone, inwardly reeling from pain and shock, only peripherally noticed her bring her hand to her cheek to wipe away tears. “I had sent AZI to get Echo, though, so maybe Hunter and Wrecker managed to escape.”

The flash of relief upon hearing that Hunter and Wrecker and Echo might still be alive disappeared almost before Crosshair felt it, suppressed under the massive weight of sudden loss.

Tech.

Crosshair had always pretended to be even more annoyed than the others when Tech spouted off three datapads’ worth of information on the most mundane topics, but secretly he had been fascinated by how smart his brother was, how Tech not only knew the information but could seamlessly apply it to improve almost any situation. Hunter was the one with heightened senses, but Tech sometimes seemed even more skilled than Hunter in knowing exactly what Crosshair needed without Crosshair needing to say a word – and, being the most reticent member of the group, Crosshair couldn’t say he ever minded.

That was the thing about Tech: when it came to any given topic – including his brothers – Tech didn’t just know, he understood.

Crosshair didn’t have Tech’s skill in this area, but he knew and understood his brother well enough to fill in the details himself. Omega had said Tech had been the one to discover Crosshair’s imprisonment and the message, which meant Tech would have been the one to bring the fact to the squad’s attention, comb through intel that led to the discovery of Hemlock’s existence, and join the push for a rescue mission to be mounted despite the warning the message conveyed.

Omega and Crosshair now sat in silence for what may have been hours, may have been seconds – he would never be able to tell – before Omega spoke again. Despite the tears still silently falling down her face, her voice took on its signature hopeful note. “Maybe we can…”

‘Maybe’ was dangerous territory, and Crosshair – sick to his stomach, burning with regret and shame, broken and empty with no recourse available to him – could not let Omega continue. Tech was dead, and Crosshair could not allow himself to entertain the idea that maybe his remaining brothers were actually okay. ‘Maybe’ meant hope. Hope meant more pain.

“No,” he said, so sharply that Omega finally turned to look at him. The sight of her tear-streaked yet resolute face only deepened his agony. “No more plans. Can’t you see? It’s over.”

“But if Hunter and Wrecker escaped, that would mean…”

“NO,” he said again, glaring at the kid.

He wasn’t going to say anything else; but suddenly a sentence from Omega’s story struck home - we were trying to track Hemlock’s ship so we could find you – and his thoughts, his deepest regret, took form in words and slipped through his mouth before he could stop himself. “I told you to run. I told you all to hide. Why didn’t you hide?”

Omega’s eyes softened, and her sympathy made him drop his gaze to the floor. “Because we’re a squad,” she replied softly, “we’re family, and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

“Look where that got you,” Crosshair retorted bitterly. Look where that got Tech, he thought.

Footsteps sounding in a distant hallway seemed to remind Omega that she did not have unlimited time to spend on visits, and she hurriedly wiped her face again as she got to her feet. She didn’t immediately depart, however; and Crosshair, feeling her gaze on him, refused to look up.

“You’re worth the risk, Crosshair,” she said simply. “Tech thought so too.”

He remained as he was, staring at the floor, numb and broken and alone, long after she had gone.

**********

“Crosshair? Are you awake?”

He gave a prolonged sigh in an effort to cover the fact that a tiny part of him was actually glad she had come to visit – it had been several weeks since the last one, and he had started to wonder if she had been outright forbidden from seeing him. “What does it matter? You’re going to talk anyway.”

She hesitated briefly. “If you need to rest, I can come back later…”

He groaned a little as he sat up – this round of experiments was leaving him increasingly sore, but he would never admit this to anyone, least of all Omega: she would spend the entire visit fretting about him. “It’s fine. I’m already awake.”

She regarded him for several long seconds before kneeling in front of his cell. “Sorry it took so long for me to come back. Nala Se kept giving me additional assignments. I think that phase of experimentation is over now. They don’t tell me much about what the experiments are, though.” She was quiet for a moment, before continuing, “I like taking care of the hounds a lot more than helping in the lab. Batcher is finally warming up to me – she doesn’t try to bite me anymore when I feed her. Oh, K9X1 finally told me a little more about the hounds…”

Crosshair listened as Omega continued talking about all the details she had learned about the species – their origins, development, life cycle, characteristics, and more – and wondered why he felt such a bittersweet ache in his chest…

Omega’s chatter reminded him of Tech.

Identifying the cause made the ache grow more potent, and Crosshair almost snapped at Omega to leave so he could busy himself with forgetting the tragedy. Over the past few weeks, he had thought he had come to terms with the loss of his brother – the shame, regret, and emptiness no longer felt like they would completely consume him – but in moments like these the pain would return in full force, and it was almost too much to bear.

And yet – right now, the ache wasn’t just bitterness and sorrow. There was a hint of solace, a touch of comfort, the warmth of nostalgia and happy memories, that took the edge off the pain. And, somehow, this comfort came from Omega.

Despite what Omega had said, he knew he didn’t deserve the risk his squad had taken for him. Tech shouldn’t have died for him, Omega shouldn’t have been captured because of him, the others shouldn’t be facing dangers unknown because of him. Knowing this, he wouldn’t let anyone else take such a risk for him again.

But Omega was feeling the loss of Tech just as much as he was. She had lost her brother, just as he had.

Crosshair wouldn’t encourage her insane ideas of the both of them managing to escape together; but if these visits made her current captivity easier to bear, he wouldn’t send her away.

Resting his forehead on his hands, he sat and listened to his sister.

#tbb #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb fanfiction #tbb canon compliant fanfiction #grief #dealing with grief #gone but never forgotten #rip tech

27 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 11 hours

Note

Is it possible for you to make a harem/poly main 6 that got infected with the Virus and they are all yandere for the Darling now? As in a general concept of how it happened and how it's going basically if you can, thank you!

This deals with a lot of characters so it will be a general overview. Sorry it isn't long... I struggle with multiple characters.

Main Story Concepts: Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity

Side Story Concepts: Cadance, Queen Chrysalis

Yandere Virus! Mane Six Concept - Patient Zero

(Short Aftermath Idea)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Yandere virus, Feral/Animalistic behavior, Overprotective behavior, Mind break, Dark themes, Forced relationship(s) implied.

This concept is essentially a recap/aftermath concept.

By this time the Mane Six are infected, Rarity eventually succumbing just like the rest of them.

So now you have six overprotective/possessive ponies surrounding you wherever you go.

I imagine they originally fight with one another, assuming one is going to hurt you.

We've seen something similar in the Rainbow and Pinkie concepts.

Although... eventually they realize they all like you just as much.

They vaguely know it's due to the virus but they can barely focus on anything else right now.

The virus drives them all closer to you... so to soothe all their desperation, they agree to share.

We see this in the Cadance concept which was meant as a loose continuation.

They're like a pack, six infected ponies all animalistic in nature.

They aren't like themselves anymore.

They've neglected themselves... They're nearly feral...

By the conclusion of this curse, Ponyville is a messy wasteland.

Twilight is barely even able to comprehend what she's done... She wanted you all to herself...

This isn't your fault...

This is hers.

However... Even with her personal feelings and the virus flooding her system... She doesn't mind sharing.

If Twilight were to share her beloved with anypony, it would be the Mane Six.

They... sorta have their same hobbies.

Twilight speaks to you of spells she's reading, you silently hope she's looking for a cure but you doubt it.

Fluttershy takes you on walks through the woods, although the animals keep running from the both of you....

Applejack and Pinkie Pie both try to make you food to care for you.

Rainbow Dash acts as a bodyguard, racing around to make sure no pony gets any ideas.

All while Rarity makes you little outfits like usual.

They all love you, they all play their part...

But you don't see them as your friends anymore.

By the end of this journey you're exhausted, you've given up.

You've accepted the fact you're a Harbinger of obsession and disease.

You want to resent Twilight... But you can't hate all of them.

Twilight may have caused it... Yet you made it worse.

Perhaps this is what you deserve.

To be surrounded by destruction and the obsessive desires of your friends.

You don’t consider them friends... Or anything more.

You want this all to end but wherever you go... The curse follows.

You feel tethered to Ponyville.

After all... If you don't stay here, you'll only cause more trouble.

You tolerate it... Even though you hate it...

You want other ponies safe... So you listen and stay away from other ponies.

You stay with the Mane Six...

They'll take care of you... They care.

You're given love, affection, all of it... even if it's artificially sweet.

You accept your fate... which is why fear pools in your stomach when you see a certain pink alicorn enter Ponyville.

You try your best not to be found...

For the sake of not only you... But the rest of Equestria... You do not need to be saved.

#yandere my little pony #yandere mlp #yandere mlp virus #yandere twilight sparkle #yandere fluttershy #yandere applejack #yandere rainbow dash #yandere pinkie pie #yandere rarity

41 notes · View notes

terras-domain · 3 days

Text

Hell for Most, Heaven for Me

Prisoner Y/N / Sister JiU (Kim Minju - Dreamcatcher)

Tags: VIOLENT STORY (murderer background y/n), prison au,prisoner y/n (reader), nun JiU, rough sex,losing virginity, dub con, sex in VERY inappropriate places (please do not do this ;-;), hint of breeding I guess

Words: 3.8k

terra's note: helloooo terra here. This one was in my mind to do for so long, I wanted to make it but I was so worried if this is allowed or nah, cuz well, for some reasons. And an extra note I kept losing my works here and there i have no idea why ;-; But anyways, I hope this I a good read for you and as always, hope you have a nice day and love you all <33

"I hereby sentence you to 10 years of life in prison, and no parole" were the words echoing through my mind, after being convicted with murder. The bus, the last vehicle I'd probably ride for another 10 years, taking me to my new home. Looking through the dusty window, I could see the cold breeze blowing east, trees bending to the right, pointing to the gigantic grey building, lacking in life in joy. "Have a good look inmate. That's your new home" the guard, sitting across the bus, looking into my eyes, knowing the emotions I'm feeling all too well. He's sent plenty of people like me here.

Get in, check into your 5 star suite and wear your fancy orange jumpsuit; that was the process I was brought to, registering myself as the new inmate in a jail I don't even want to remember the name of. Dragged like a dog towards my cell, the guard slammed the door shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts. "Enjoy your stay, maniac." A stern voice echoes the area, the guard laughing as he walks away, making me curl up on my bed. The murder, the death and crimes I did, as much as they were right to call me a monster, it was deserved. Seeing my own wife cheating with my brother, nothing in my life could prepare me for that. The kitchen knife was just conveniently close to me, it took me less than a second to have it in my hand, and another second for it to be covered in their blood. I've lost it, yet I couldn't care any less. "Fuck that bitch."

Morning arises, the guards will usually brutally beat a bell to wake us up, forcing us to hard labour, often times picking up trash on the streets whilst supervised by them. "Quit slacking, y/n! You think I'm blind?" One of the guards yelled, her voice could easily break my eardrums, it hurts. What hurts more is the fact she's a woman, the same damn species that bitch, that cheating bitch was. I clicked my tongue, looking back and was on the brink of snapping, but my conscious got the best of me. "Yes ma'am." I obediently nodded, surrendering as I continued my community service, being a mere slave to the law. I was restless, my body could barely contain the anger. A sight of a woman in itself infuriates me. Getting a little rest in the restroom, washing my face was a right call. Looking into the reflection in the mirror, staring at the wet face of a man who's fallen down a rabbit hole of hatred. My eyes darken, my body slowly shrinking yet swollen, it just didn't make sense. "What am I doing?"

My restlessness needs answers, or at least, something to sooth myself. After community service, the guards let us have our own private time, wandering around the prison to do what you want. I stumbled upon the prison's church, seems like a good place to recuperate. It's like they always say, when in doubt, find God, or I hope they do. Entering the small room, it looks nothing bigger than 4 of my rooms, and my room looks like it was designed to fit a rat. There's probably not many visitors around here, it's a home for criminals. I sighed as I sat on one of the multiple free benches, crossing myself as I began to pray. My wish to find myself inner peace, my wish to fully heal myself from my sins, and most importantly my wish to have courage to forgive what has happened in the past. My prayers were going smoothly, but it was quite bothered when I heard footsteps. "Who the fuck goes to church, whilst being an inmate?" I monologued, looking behind myself to see the figure that was walking in the holy space, and that's when my eyes felt revived, seeing something so beautiful, my mind went blank.

"Welcome child. What brings you here?" Her voice alone made me lose my tension, it felt as if I was on a cloud. I was too stunned to speak, my mind couldn't process her beauty, let alone process human words to speak. "Forgive me, is everything okay? Or-" she paused, stuttering as if she's afraid of the next words coming out of her gorgeous lips. "...are you mute per chance? I know some sign language to communicate if so." She eventually found her best words to form a sentence. Looking from her expression, it seems like she's trying her best not to offend me. Unlucky for her, my mind cleared out the clouds of delusion, behind that beauty, lays a species of humanity I would despise till my grave. "Oh no! I'm not disabled or anything. I was just, spacing out..." My eyes wide open, the sight of a maniac is what could describe my face right now but my voice sounds ever so lovely, as if my past self was doing the talking, the goody two shoes that let myself marry such a wicked bitch. My eyes scanned through the curves of the nun in front of me. Despite her body well covered, I could see how curvy and hot she is, not too thick but she definitely is an eye candy. "Oh I see. Well forgive me for bothering your prayers child. I was not here to disturb your conversation with Him. May your prayers be replied and may your life finds itself towards the right path." She gives a short bow, before moving towards the pillar, the symbol of what I believe is the place where she usually carries out her religious speech, that is if anybody is going to her speeches. What's more important though is her walk, the way her hips move left and right, showing how curvy her ass is. I couldn't hold it, my mind doesn't want to keep imagining. It wants to live it.

My legs starts to move, marching towards her from behind as I grabbed her from the back, my left arm wrapping around her midriff whilst my right on her ass cheek. "ngh- what are you doing?! Do you know where we are right now, inmate??" She questioned, her voice sounds timid as my arms venture around her body, feeling the smooth cloth of her body hiding the treasures underneath. "I prayed for lots of things, sister. Seems like God answered the call pretty soon~" I grinned, my arm groping her ass, making me grunt from pleasure, oh how long have I waited to touch a woman's ass. That bitch of a wife wouldn't let me for months, eventually I found out that cheap slut's ass is for other guys. No worries, I'll take this nun's big ass now and fuck it the way I like it!

It was heaven for me, two days in prison felt like forever, and that forever bores me. With this bitch of a nun in my hands, I can do whatever I please. "No- Aaah! Please stop, this is not the place for such vulgar actions," the woman pleads. But unfortunate for her I don't take orders from women any longer, not anymore. Rubbing my cock underneath my pants while she grunts and tries to move away. Makes me want to have her even more. Despite my joyous time enjoying the body of the hot nun, there's always things that makes things complicated. "Y/N? Where are ya? You gotta get back to your cell!" A voiced shouted from a distance. It's the guards, I thought. I had to let the nun go, letting her pure body free this time, but I'm damn sure this isn't over. The guard steps in the holy space, seeing me stand in front of the nun, smiling at her. "Y/N, your times up, get back to your cell!" He ordered, before shifting his gaze to the curvaceous woman. "Sorry Miss Minju, he's new. I guess he spent too much time praying huh?" He giggled, completely oblivious to the fact I was groping her before he crashed the party. "It's okay, sir. The inmate was just....asking me some questions. It seems he is just starting his journey to find God." She explained, and obvious lie for the both of us, but to that stupid bastard of a guard had no idea. "Oh, I see. Well hopefully this rascal doesn't bother you too much, Miss Minju." The guard laughed it off, in his face reflects confusion as he took his baton and smacks my head, making me start walking out to head back to my cell. "Now that's enough learning for today Y/N, back to your little mansion you go!" He exclaimed, making me take my steps back towards my cell.

In my own cell, my legs are crossed while I rest on the crusty old mattress. Sure it feels like I'm laying on a rock, but in my mind I couldn't felt more relieved. In my mind is only Minju, I didn't even think a second of my late wife, the horrible woman that made me commit the crimes I do today. In fact, that crime is the sole purpose I have this opportunity, and I couldn't miss it for the world. "Minju....you will be mine!"

JIU POV

Getting home to my convent, my mind simply could not brush away the thoughts of y/n. He was a sinful man, and what he did couldn't be said any worse. But for some reason, my heart is racing, it screams for more of that. Is that what sexual pleasure means? Being a holy child of God, I was never interested into indulging myself into such filthy acts, but that was too much for me to resist. Resisting in bed that night I made sure to lock the rooms of my own room, hoping the rest of the sisters to not find me in this state, in heat and about to perform such sinful acts. My body naked without a thread, as I look down, my shaven pussy dripping wet. I gulped, my thoughts conflicting between each other, but eventually it was no longer in my head. I start to slowly touch my clitoris that made me instantly let out a moan. "Aaah~!" I covered my mouth, turning down the volume of my sexual voices as I touch myself, wishing nobody will see me. My fingers kept moving on its own, now penetrating into my pussy, fingering myself. I could yelp and scream, but my hand muffled the sounds to ensure it doesn't reach anybody's ears to listen. My fingers slide in and out of my pussy, touching myself as my body tingles, it couldn't last any longer. "nghhh- noooo...aaah!" Eventually my body gave up, spurting cum all over my mattress, making me moan out load for a few seconds as my urges got the best of me. I panted, looking around my room, nothing really catches my eye, only the fact my body was so into the pleasure of getting groped and touched by a dangerous criminal who so happens to hate women. But somehow with all those issues regarding him, I want to see him again, and I want all of that again.

Y/N's POV

Days gone by, and that hot nun just couldn't leave my mind. How I want to absolutely ruin her and use her as my own personal toy, I just couldn't stand it. Unfortunately, this isn't a lavish life where everything goes my way. Prison life is as horrible as it sounds. Humiliating tasks to complete, food that even rats wouldn't dare to touch, and to top it all off, the annoyance from the shouting yappers they call guards just makes life so tense. Luckily enough, I made acquaintance with a guy that sells cigarettes for some dirty money, and it's my only pathway to maintain my sanity in this new life.

With a blunt between my lips, my footsteps move towards the holy room, a place where it's expected to find the hot chick in prison area. Creaking the door open, I could see her stood in the room just as expected, cleaning the church area. Putting out the spark on my cig, I threw it to the nearest trashcan as I drop my footsteps towards her. "Missed me, Sister Minju?" I smirked, as my footsteps echoes the room. No reply, not surprised by that. I would expect her to actually make me leave or call the guards on me to make me go back to my cell. "What you did the other day....was a sin, my child." She responded after a minute of silence. She didn't flinch nor make a step back, making it more inviting for me to come closer. As we reach closer, only an inch apart of each other, holding her shoulders as I caress them a bit. "My wife was a complete asshole, Minju..." My voice speaks out, almost like a whisper to her ears. "...and I need you, to repent her sins." As I finished, my hands pulled her in, attaching my lips on hers. Kissing her deeply, my mouth tries to get a reply from the nun, hoping she opens up a bit more. "Mmmh...nghhhh~" Minju sounded her restrains, trying to resist. Eventually however, her lips part ways as she opens up, giving me a chance to make out with her deeply. "Mmmmh~ just like that Minju. Such a good girl" I groaned, enjoying my mouth on her innocent lips. After a while of making out, I pulled away and looked into her eyes, giving her space to breath. "God, please forgive me for my acts." Her face blushes, looking down, ashamed of her acts. "God won't hear nothing from you today. Might as well just use that mouth for something better."

A few moments of thrusting in and out of Minju's face, I finally decided to pull out, letting her have time to breathe. "Bwaaah.... aaaah, goodness." She gasped for air, trying to gain her conscious, then moving away as she expected my little game is over. "Oh Sister Minju, where do you think you're going?" I grabbed her small forearm, stopping her movements. Her eyes widen, shocked from the revelation, and her tight body was immediately brought to one of the benches in the church, where I made her hands on the seats, bending her over. If it were up to me, I would've torn her garments apart and ravish her. But that would probably cause trouble for me with the guards, so I just took off her maxi and reveal her curved ass, only covered by her white panties, stained with her own wet juices. "Look at you~ so wet down here already~" I giggled as I gave her a firm spank, making her grasp the bench and scream out a moan. "I- It was too much for me to resist." She responded, her voice sounded so fragile and submissive, making my cock throb in excitement. My hand pulled down her white panties to her ankles. Now her untouched treasure fully exposed to me, I couldn't resist the urge to give a touch on her wet entrance. My soft touch on her pure innocence made her let out a sensual moan, resulting in a big grin on my face. It's a sign she's giving in. I keep exploring, increasing my pace on her touch-craving pussy, circling around her wet clitoris, where she constantly twitched and grunted from the sensation. "Aaaah...y/n..." Her voice sounds more sensual as her body looked weaker and could barely last. That's when I start to go rough on her again, pushing my index and middle finger inside her pulsing walls. Immediately as my fingers pushed in, she immediately screamed and moaned, enjoying the sensation as her body vibrates from pleasure. "OH GOSH Y/N NOOOO!" Her reaction only prompted me to go faster. "You like it, don't you? Being a slut in God's holy space? Showing off how much of a slut you are~!" I teased, my fingers reaching as deep as they could, while her moans escalated. "No...please do not say that...it is- aaah!" The moment she started to talk back, I immediately went faster and rougher, touching her sensitive parts to cause her to create a scene in the church with her moans echoing through the room. "No- nghhhh... I can not hold it any longer! Forgive me My Lord....I'm, kyaaahhh!" Her screams ignites her climax, cumming on my fingers and wetting herself as her juices drip down her thighs.

I held her tight and guided her to fall to her knees. With zero resistance from Minju, it was easy for me to put her down. "You wanted this, don't you?" I grinned as I undo my pants, letting down the lower half of my jumpsuit to reveal my hardening boner. "It's not like that. I-I" she was hesitant. It was obvious in those pretty cat-like eyes her mind is going back and forth trying to get an answer. Unlucky for her, no is never an answer here. My cock is already out, twitching on her face as I rest it on her smooth pale skin. And I need her innocent body to relieve all the tension building up in me. "Suck." I ordered, but her small face shook in rejection, making me sigh in disappointment. "Guess I have to do it myself huh?" I grabbed the back of her scalp, gripping it hard enough to make her yelp in the bit of pain as I stuff her mouth with my cock, pushing it as deep as I possibly can in one push. "Nghhhh~! Accckk..!" Minju screamed, muffled by my member between her pretty lips yet echoes through the room. The muffled gags and chokes excites me, making my cock grow bigger in her tight throat as I plunge in deeper. Despite being her first time doing oral sex, taking it rough the first time too, she's doing well to stay awake. Even though tears running down her eyes and her face filled with her own spit and precum, the sight is such a beauty, it made me enjoy the whole process of my hips moving back and forth skullfucking her innocence out.

"Haa...haaahh" The gorgeous lady panted, laying on the bench as her mind process the depurification of her body unfold in such a holy area. But her eyes kept staring at mine, not with anger nor grudge, but confusion. As if she's having a war between herself, trying to pick up words of what she might decide to do after all this. I kneeled down, my eyes level to hers as I gave her a rub on the scalp. "Tell me, Sister. What is it in your mind?" I asked, as my cock throbs, waiting for more action. Minju gulped, her mind racing around looking for a decision. Or maybe she already does, yet too shy to ask. "P-please...please have sex with me more, Y/n." She muttered, sparking joy and lust within me. "Then in position, bitch!" I ordered, giving her face a firm smack to show her where she stands now, nothing more than a little slut for me, my entertainment in my 10-year sentence. She nodded obediently, her back now on the bench as she spread her legs to show her soaked cunt. And oh God, what a sight, a religious woman completely offering her pussy to a prisoner like a cheap slut she is, nothing makes me happier. I stroked my cock as I get closer to her pussy, slowly sliding my tip in. I looked at Minju's face looking at how she's taking my tip, since this is her first time. "Aaaah.....it's so big y/n" She whined, but eventually got used to my size as her breathe starts to ease out. "Seems like you're ready for the next step." I was never planning on going easy on this ass, and I won't change my mind. My hips immediately buck back and forth, fucking her tight cunt as hard as possible. "Aaaah! Wait no ngaaaaah you are- God too rough!" Minju screamed, feeling my cock plunging in and out of her tight virgin pussy, no mercy for her first time. "Fuck do I care, Minju? You wanna get fucked don't you? Then fucking take it!" My hips got into a faster pace, going rough on her with no sign of mercy, making her scream. Although her screams were getting louder, she didn't seem to want to stop. Her arms on my shoulders, holding on me tight.

With her arms now on me, it gives me a good excuse to hold her tight and carry her up, holding her tight body whilst my cock stays inside her sweet cunt. "Fuck- you're clingy aren't you?" I grinned as I humped her body upwards, making Minju move up and down my cock, with gravity helping drag her body down to take every inch of me. "Nghhh- forgive me y/n....I can't resist it any longer. I need your penis even more now!" The way her lips moved while she speaks, it turns me on, it drives me crazy. I brought ourselves near a wall, making the slutty nun's back face the wall. It gives me an easier pathway to thrust, fucking this bitch as rough as I want while holding her by her ass cheeks. "Aaaah~! Y/N it feels so good, gaaaah~!" her moans felt like music, a sensation I longed for so many years after my wife turned into the cheating bitch she was. Those memories can now be buried, a new sensation arises, with this tight slut being mine, and mine only. My lips now crashes onto hers, kissing her deeply whilst she took my hard cock in and out easily now after a lot of rough strokes. "Mmmmh~! Fuck- Minju, I wanna cum...I wanna cum in your fucking pussy!" I grunted, my cock couldn't hold it any longer as my shaft yearns to unload itself. "Wait no- that's too dan-" without waiting her to finish speaking, I already reached my limit, my cock starts to let loose, shooting ropes of cum deep inside her pussy, filing up her womb. "Aaaaah...kyaaaah!" Minju held me tight, accepting my rewards and my sign of marking, an officiation to being my slut. It wouldn't be enough to mark her insides, my mouth aims towards her neck, kissing and sucking on it before biting on it, my fangs leaving a purple mark, a hickey as a sign of ownership. My member took her time to finish, emptying myself in her womanhood. I panted, barely feeling my legs as I quickly walked towards a nearby bench to sit, with Minju still on top and my cock still inside her. I didn't want to say a word, and so does she. Our only exchange of communication were our lips kissing, tongues clashing between on one another. Our eyes interlock as we know from this day forward, heaven felt so distant, it's beyond reachable. But this sensation, for now, is our heaven.

#kpop smut #kpop nsft #female idol smut #dreamcatcher smut #jiu smut #kpop x male reader

15 notes · View notes

hooved · 1 year

Text

i dunno if this is like weird advice to give, but for anyone who is or has a partner/friend/etc. who's interested in a threesome (or more), you gotta make sure that everyone involved is emotionally ready for that. if you or someone else might get jealous, then just don't do it. don't lie and say you're ready just because you wanna make your partner happy, or because of peer pressure, or even just because you're attracted to someone involved, etc., if you're having any doubts at all then just say so. this is something you need to discuss thoroughly beforehand. jealousy or any other sort of emotional discomfort during group sex WILL negatively affect your relationship(s) with whoever's involved. if sex is an experience that's very important and personal to you and you're not ready to share that with someone other than your partner(s) then there's no shame in turning it down. a good partner wouldn't be upset by you setting boundaries. your comfort is more important than the opportunity to have a threesome

#sorry if this is too personal/tmi or whatever but i was just thinking about one of my exes and like #i asked her many times beforehand if she was okay with it. i really really wanted to make sure she was comfortable. she told me she was #but it still made her jealous and that did irreparable damage to our relationship. i could tell pretty quickly that it was a mistake #and yeah we don't talk anymore for mostly unrelated reasons (i unfortunately learned she wasn't a great person) but i still regret that #i could see after we broke up (which was mutual because we were....not as compatible as we thought. as mentioned above)#that she was always going out of her comfort zone to try to make me happy. and i genuinely feel bad about that. i would never ask for that #i wouldn't have been upset if she told me she wasn't sure about it because i don't wanna put anyone in an uncomfortable situation like that #anyway this was like. 9 or so years ago at this point. i still wanna apologize to her but i feel like it'd be weird to bring up y'know #but yeah i just want ppl to know this kinda stuff is avoidable if you have a truly honest discussion beforehand #and if there's any doubt at all then it's best to just not go through with it because your feelings could change at any moment tbh #but if you're all emotionally prepared then threesomes can be great ! exhausting but that's a given lmao

26 notes · View notes

yuukiiqwq · 19 days

Text

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

7K notes · View notes

cocklessboy · 10 months

Text

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

#transgender #queer #transmasc #lgbtqia+#trans man #sexism #medical sexism #feminism #male privilege

15K notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 3 months

Text

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

5K notes · View notes