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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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Move This Along

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After months of waiting, Spencer decides he finally wants to have sex with Reader. Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, sex (oral sex- female receiving, virgin!Spence, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie) Word Count: 5.6k

Full Request: “...so a smutty oneshot with like virgin!spencer but im talkling like baby spence. and hes super blushy and cute but then when it happens its rlly raunchy and therws a lot of dirty talk. and like reader doesnt work at the bau but theyre close friends. and like she goes out to a bar with him and the team and they tease him so then she takes him home and literally fucks him after a movie or smth idk...” — @mggscumrag

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this, but once I did, it came out so quickly! I hope it’s to your liking 🥰

***

The first time she went out to meet Elle's friends from work, Y/N found herself absolutely nervous, and she wasn't sure why. She was always great with meeting new people, but for some reason, the prospect of meeting her next-door neighbor's co-workers seemed to really do a number on her.

She remembers how anxious she'd been, constantly worrying that they wouldn't like her, not to mention they were all probably super smart and strong and intimidating, just like Elle. Anyone who aided in putting away serial killers, rapists, and other monsters had to be just about the most intimidating personality there ever was.

But as Y/N soon learned, that wasn't quite the case at all.

To be fair, they were all intimidating in their own little ways, though it was really easy to forget about that when she was laughing with them, sharing drinks and stories, and exchanging phone numbers to stay in touch.

That's how she and Spencer had come to be good friends. Despite how obviously shy he was whenever they saw each other, the two of them managed to have conversations on just about everything. It usually happened that he talked and she listened to whatever he was teaching her, but she'd always add on the occasional, "Wow, I didn't know that," or "That's really fascinating." All of which she could tell he was surprised at and appreciated.

And since the first time they met at Elle's birthday party, the night she met the whole team for the first time, they'd been practically inseparable. While Y/N was good friends with the whole team, save for Gideon, who always seemed to like it better by himself, her relationship with Spencer seemed to even surpass the bond she'd built with her neighbor-slash-best friend.

Elle even told her as much one Saturday night, as the two of them were driving to the bar to meet up with everyone for a few drinks.

She'd mentioned it as a joke, but Y/N was instantly apologetic.

Elle only laughed. "Don't apologize. Actually, I think it's good that Reid has another friend outside of work. You're good for him. And you know, I think he has a little crush on you."

Warmth rushed to Y/N's cheeks, and she tried to hide it but failed miserably, causing Elle to give her a knowing smile. "Y—You don't know what you're talking about, Elle, it's not like that."

"Oh come on, it totally is. You give him the light of day when no one else does, he talks about you all the time, and everyone at work knows it."

She paused. "They... do?"

"Of course they do, we're all profilers, but it doesn't take one to see how obsessed that boy is with you. I think you should go for it."

Y/N would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about asking him out. But in the end she had always figured it was a little weird, being that she was friends with all his and Elle's co-workers and she'd kinda been adopted into their family of sorts. But hearing what her neighbor was saying... She started to think differently about it.

"You really think so?"

Elle nodded. "Absolutely."'

"Okay," she replied with an excited smile. "Maybe I will, then."

A week later and the two of them started dating. Y/N always thinks back to the first few weeks of their relationship, how adorably shy and blush-prone Spencer was, even after they'd been together for some time. They spent almost all their free time together, and it still seemed like he was nervous to be around her. He'd assured her on multiple occasions that that wasn't the case, but Y/N still wondered why he hadn't fully warmed up to being around her.

Especially in public. Oh, in public it was worse. Y/N clung to his arm, and his face immediately got red. What confused her the most, though, was that every time she pulled away to make him more comfortable, he pulled her back in, seemingly desperate to feel her warmth.

In the end she and Spencer had grown to develop their own little communication system for public settings, something to let the other know when something was really wrong, and when to ask if the other was comfortable.

One night everyone was meeting after a rough case somewhere in Denver, and Y/N offered to buy everyone drinks once Spencer had called to tell her they were all back. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that, but it had been a while, so everyone was quick to except. Well, mostly everyone— Gideon as per usual went his separate way, and Hotch was eager to get home and see his family.

Y/N was waiting for them at their favorite bar downtown when she heard a loud squeal that sounded a lot like her name. Sure enough, it was easy to spot a very yellow-clad Penelope Garcia headed straight towards her with her arms stretched out for a hug when she turned around. The smile she adorned was instantaneous as her arms came out a well, embracing Penelope with a large hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I missed you!" she exclaimed, still hugging Y/N and swaying them back and forth a little. "I mean, I know I don't ever travel with the team, but because of that we should hang out more."

"Next time I need some company, I know who to call."

Y/N spotted Spencer then, behind Penelope and patiently waiting for a greeting. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hi," to which Penelope must have heard.

She quickly released her from their embrace and stepped out of the way. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your boy wonder."

She laughed as she transferred from Penelope's arms to Spencer's. He muttered a little, "Hi," into her hair as she squeezed him and shoved her face into his neck. If she had to bet, he was probably red as a tomato right now with how close her mouth was to his neck—it was his weakness and she knew it. And just to tease him a little bit she quickly kissed up his neck, his jaw, and placed a decent peck on his lips before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

Despite the shy smile and the blush adorning his cheeks, he squeezed her hand tight and kept her at his side like they would die if they weren't touching at all times.

Everyone gave little greetings to Y/N as they all made their way to a large booth near the back. Y/N was sitting on one side with Elle to her right and Spencer to her left, while Derek, Penelope, and JJ sat across from them. Y/N got them all their preferred drinks, and a beer for herself, which Spencer couldn't help but find oddly attractive.

He glanced over at her as she took swigs from the bottle as the night progressed, and for whatever reason the sight made his insides all warm and tingly. And when she used her unoccupied hand to grab his under the table, rubbing gentle circles over the inside of his palm with her thumb, he'd never felt more in love with another person. He wasn't even drinking any alcohol, yet his head swam and his heart soared all the same, every bone in his body humming with euphoria at just the mere thought of her.

He must have been staring a little too obviously, because Derek kicked his leg under the table, pulling him from the lovesick daydream he never wanted to leave.

"I can't tell if those are cute ol' puppy dog eyes or bedroom eyes," Derek laughed, and everyone laughed right alongside him.

"Oh, stop it," Penelope said, swatting his arm. "He's obviously just very in love with her, what more could you need to know?"

"Oh, come on, tell me you're not curious to know how they... operate."

She smacked him harder this time, and everyone laughed.

Knowing her boyfriend didn't really care for the spotlight, especially when it came to their relationship, Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand under the table in reassurance. She drew a question mark in his palm, their signal for, "Are you uncomfortable?" And he responded by drawing an "X" in her palm, their answer for, "No." She laced their fingers together then, and set her beer down.

"Morgan, our sex life isn't any of your business," she stated simply.

Spencer felt his stomach churn at the sentence, if only because said sex life was, as of late, non-existent.

He and Y/N had made out a lot, sure, but the one time they did try having sex, he made it about ten seconds being inside of her before he finished, and since then he'd been kind of embarrassed about it. They only ever made out since then, because before it ever got that far he stopped it, nervous that he'd disappoint her.

And now his non-existent sex life was the topic of conversation, and if anyone picked up on it, he would have felt worse about the whole thing.

So, he didn't stop himself from speaking. "But if you must know, it's great."

Y/N's hand tensed up in his, and she looked over at him, shock marinating in her eyes. To anyone else it would have looked like she was surprised he'd even bring it up, but he knew she was most likely more curious to know why he'd lied about it.

Their friends laughed regardless, Elle adding a curious and joking, "Care to elaborate?"

Ready to change the subject, Spencer shook his head. "Nope."

"Yeah, actually I think we're gonna head out early," Y/N added. Spencer was suddenly worried he'd made her upset, but she rubbed gentle circles into his hand that reassured him everything was okay.

He got out of the booth and Y/N followed, as their friends grumbled.

"Oh, come on, we didn't mean to embarrass you guys," Derek said.

"No, that's not it," Y/N said as she threw on a light jacket. "You just reminded me how much I'd like to operate with my boyfriend since I haven't seen him in a few days, so we're leaving. Have a good night."

Spencer felt searing heat rise to his cheeks as he turned around and ushered Y/N out the door, accompanied by low whistles and claps from their friends.

***

The two of them were sitting on the couch now, Y/N having just set down a couple classes of water.

"Sorry if you wanted to stay," she said quietly, playing with her thumbs. "You know we don't... actually have to operate if you don't want, obviously, I was just looking for something to say..."

"Oh, Y/N, I know. Don't worry about it. Really, I... I was the one who even brought it up, I should have just let you handle it."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Why.. did you bring it up anyway?"

"Well, I... I guess I just felt embarrassed. And I know what we do together isn't any of their business, but I was just... I really was thinking about how much I love you, and when Morgan brought it up, I felt like I wasn't... living up? To your expectations? I don't..." He sighed, unsure how to properly articulate how he was feeling. "I don't know. I just thought about the last time we tried having sex, and I felt embarrassed about it, that's all."

"Oh, honey," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him and bringing her hand up to brush some of the hair from his face. "You know, you... don't have anything to prove, right? I know how much you love me, and you don't need to be having sex with me to show me, I hope you know that."

Still, he couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "I do," he choked out, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Y/N's tongue clicked, and she leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck and placing the other across his lap. She held him tight and kissed the side of his head. "Don't you ever be sorry, unless you cheat on me. Then there will be something to be sorry about."

He laughed at her joke, turning his head to brush his nose against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, giving him the lightest of kisses on the lips.

When she pulled away, he leaned in again, kissing her a little harder, and she gladly reciprocated. With every passing second, all of his worries started to melt away like the snow to her sunshine. Within every kiss was an emanation of outpouring love and comfort that warmed his soul and gave him the confidence to try something bold.

His hands threaded through her hair as he drew her in closer, and instinctively, she climbed over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. The sound of her sigh as she opened up to him and allowed him to fully explore her mouth with his made his stomach bubble and tense.

This would be about the time where he'd stop, telling Y/N that they should slow down, and she'd sweetly oblige and stay cuddled into his side as they drifted off to sleep.

But tonight he didn't want that.

Tonight he wanted more.

While one of his hands remained in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, the other snaked down to her lower back. He gently slid his fingers under the fabric of her shirt and pressed his palm flat against her, pulling her closer to him with a desperation that both shocked and excited her.

Deciding to test the waters, Y/N rolled her hips, feeling him jump slightly underneath her, followed by a whine that vibrated her mouth and sent a low hum of pressure through her stomach.

Still, she pulled away.

Well... She tried to.

When she pulled her face away from him, Spencer used the hand in her hair to bring her back, tilting his head in the other direction and continuing to kiss her with enough passion for the both of them. And it didn't help that the sound she made when he did it spurred him on. She whimpered loudly into his mouth, and the hand on her back involuntarily slid down to grab her ass.

"Hey," she managed to get out when he pulled away momentarily for air. "Hey, you don't... We don't have to really do this if you don't want. I—I don't want you to think that what happened earlier means we have to have sex."

"Y/N..." His hand gently kneaded her ass, and against her better judgement, she rolled her hips again, sighing out against his lips. "I don't want to put it off any longer... Really, I... I want to. I want to show you how much I love you."

She kissed him softly again, bringing both of her hands up to cradle his face. "You already do. Every day."

She was giving him an out, and Spencer appreciated it. But with the way his insides were practically melting away at her presence, he knew more than anything that this was what he wanted.

"I know," he said. "But if you don't mind, today I'd like to show you a little extra." And then he kissed her deeply again.

Her hands tightened on his face, right before they slid up and through his hair. She gently tugged at it, and he let out one of the most delicious sounds she'd ever heard. For future reference, she relished in that sound, in that feeling, and made a mental note to try it out some more when they got further along in their sexual path.

But tonight, she would let him call the shots. He was finally ready to try it again, and seeing how confident he grew in his touches and kisses when she submitted to him, it was the simplest decision.

So she remained on his lap until he made another move, encouraging him with whimpers and languid rolls of her hips against his. Her hands grew frenzied in his hair when he dipped his hand past the waistband of her jeans and underwear, sticking his fingers in only about a knuckle deep. The warmth of his hands against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, which she let show by involuntarily grinding down on his lap.

Spencer groaned deeply more than whined this time, his grip on her hands gripping tighter to her backside. He forced himself to remove his mouth from hers long enough to breathe out, "Bedroom. Please."

As much as Y/N didn't want to get off of his lap, she knew that what waited for her in the bedroom would be worth the momentary loss of complete physical contact. So she peeled herself away from her boyfriend, grabbing him by the hand, and lead him to her bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he was on her again, caging her face between his large hands and capturing her lips in another heated kiss. They moved backwards until she hit her back against the door, and the second their movement stopped, Spencer used their standing position to press his full body weight into her, their legs tangling together.

Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to figure out where to put her hands. She wanted to brace them on his chest, but it was pressed tightly against hers. So they wandered over his back, but she couldn't decide whether to place them under his shirt or on his butt. Or maybe she wanted to grip his arms to feel the veins as they strained against his skin from holding her face. The possibilities were quite endless.

So endless that they were even surprising—Spencer noticed her wandering hands and promptly decided to place them where he wanted, which was apparently above her head. He removed his hands from her face and pinned her wrists to the door above her head, and she huffed a breath as he pulled away to speak.

"Is this okay? I wasn't too... too rough?"

The concern swimming in his lust-filled eyes drew a little whimper from her throat as she struggled to find the right words. But finally, she settled on, "That was so fucking hot..."

Relief flashed over his gaze right before he grinned. His fingers flexed against her wrists, and even though she couldn't see them, she could imagine how it looked. And it really was fucking hot.

Seeing the expression on her face, Spencer leaned forward again and kissed her one last time. Their lips moved together hungrily, dancing in perfect synchronization, the music being the frantic beating of their hearts.

And then he started to trail his kisses down her jaw and neck, keeping her hands firmly pinned to the door. Usually she was the one to explore his neck with her tongue and teeth, but this time he wanted to try it for himself. Mirroring what he'd felt her do to him hundreds of times over, he soaked in every single sound she made, from the little whimpers of pleasure to the soft, choked whispers of his name dancing over her lips. And when her hips canted forward, searching for any kind of friction, he decided to grant it to her.

As his kisses moved down along her collarbone, his hands gently slid down with him, over her arms and then down to the bottom of her shirt as he kneeled in front of her. He lifted the shirt slowly, each new inch of exposed skin being met with soft kisses until it reached her breasts. He reached up to palm them over her bra while he trailed his kisses downward again.

Even though she was wearing jeans, he pressed kisses to her legs anyway. She squirmed under his touch, and the feeling made his heart soar.

"Please, Spence," she huffed, bringing her hands down to lay overtop of his. She felt the tendons and veins in his hands as they squeezed her, and with everything she had, she tried not to beg him to use them in more interesting places. She wanted to let him take his time, to be a vessel for his exploration, but it was growing harder every second to be patient.

Thankfully he seemed to get what she was feeling, because his hands slid out from under her shirt and rested at her jeans. "Can I take these off?"

The fact that he even asked when she so clearly begged him to do it made her heart swell. "Please do," she chuckled, though it turned into a choked sigh when his fingers actually started undoing the button. And at the sound of her zipper going down, she could have come undone right there.

He pulled her jeans down slowly and helped her step out of them. And she thought maybe he'd take the next step and do the same with her underwear, but he opted to use his mouth instead.

With gentle kisses, he traced the hem of the fabric all the way to either side of her waist. And then he looked up at her with curious eyes and shifted his face, pressing his nose right up against where her clit would be. Her hands immediately went to his hair, but he grabbed her wrists again and laid them at her sides. "Do you want me to move this along?" His voice wasn't teasing as much as it was genuine curiosity.

Still, Y/N resisted the urge to tell him yes. "I—I want you to do whatever feels right. Tonight's... about you. What you want."

"Well, what I want is to make you feel good. So, again... Do you want me to move this along?"

Every time his lips moved, they brushed up against where she desperately wanted him. And it was killing her. So, she nodded vigorously. "Yes, please," she whispered.

And with that, Spencer released her hands and used his fingers to gently rub her over the fabric. The contact made her shiver visibly, and he took that as a good sign. So he wasted no more time and replaced his fingers with his tongue, fluttering his eyes closed at the taste of her. And he knew that once the thin fabric was gone it would be stronger, but even then he was thoroughly wrecked.

He kept lapping his tongue over her, feeling her panties get wetter with ever second, and he only finally removed them when she started grinding her hips closer to his face, desperate for more.

When he did finally bring his tongue to fully taste her for the first time, they both let out the filthiest sounds, months and months of build-up starting to come to a head. He tasted her like he would an ice cream cone, and for the first few moments his eyes remained closed, all his focus on this brand new sensation. But he wanted nothing more than to see her react to him. So he opened his eyes and continued his ministrations, pupils blowing wide at the sight of her above him.

She was panting, her mouth hung open and her tongue just barely peeking out over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained shut, though Spencer could tell she was struggling to open them. With a tentative flick of his tongue over her clit, he took notice of the little gasp she made, and he knew he'd found it. So he repeated his action, providing small kitten licks to her clit as she picked up her breathing and clenched her hands at her sides.

He picked up the pace then, taking note of every little thing that made her cry out or jump with pleasure until she was clutching his hair. He was sucking on her clit now, his middle finger gently sliding in and out of her when she spoke.

"Oh, fuck, keep doing that. I'm... I'm almost..."

He felt her tighten around his finger as she started careening off the edge, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face, because it had practically been haunting him, wondering what it would be like to see her come undone at his mercy.

To say it was better than he could have ever dreamed was a severe understatement.

Y/N's head leaned back against the door, her chin jutted out so he could see the beautiful contours of her chin and neck. He saw her throat contract as she moaned out his name, saw her chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and best of all, he felt her flutter around his finger and mouth. And if that was high inducing, he couldn't wait to feel wat it would be like to replace them with something else.

The mere thought had him trembling.

He pulled back when she huffed out an over-stimulated, "Okay, please, please stop, oh..."

Though it could just as easily have been a painful sentiment, the hungry, dazed look in her eye suggested otherwise.

Spencer stood up and brought his finger to his mouth, still caught up in her taste before she ripped his wrist away and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.

Before he could get lost in it, though, she pulled away and nodded. "Okay. I think you're wearing too many clothes."

He tilted his head down in a little flush, and with the help of Y/N, his shirt peeled away from his body and joined her pants and underwear on the floor.

Y/N mirrored his actions, kissing gently down his jaw, neck, and then down his torso. Her hands wandered his bare back as she sunk to her knees. But when her hands moved to his belt, he stopped her.

"W—wait."

She peeled her hands away and looked up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?"

He visibly swallowed, and she could read that look on his face that he got whenever he was embarrassed to tell her something. "N—no, I... I want... the opposite, actually."

"I don't follow..."

"Well, I know that... if you return the favor, I won't last very long, a—and I... I don't want to wait anymore."

Y/N smiled, standing again and bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So you're saying you... want me to move this along?"

Spencer smiled at her recollection of his words. "Yes, please."

They travelled to the bed then, Y/N taking off her shirt and bra when they got there, and leaving her completely bare to him. She sat down and reached for his belt, looking up at him as he stood.

"I'm clean and on birth control, do you still want to use a condom? I have some in my table drawer."

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as you're sure."

Y/N undid his belt quickly and threw it to the side, making work of his button and zipper with a smile. "Oh I'm so sure..."

The way she said it made his dick twitch, images running through his mind of how it would look seeing her filled and dripping with—

Her hand was palming him through his underwear now, and it was all he could think about. He had already been hard before, but now it was tilting on the precipice of painful pleasure. So he stopped her, taking a deep breath.

"Lay down?"

"However you want me," Y/N answered, positioning herself on the bed so she was leaning back, her head nicely laid out on the pillows.

Spencer swallowed and removed his underwear before climbing on the bed and kneeling over her. Her legs were already wide, feet flat on either side of him as he positioned himself and got ready.

She reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, a gentle smile on her face. "You ready?"

"Mhm," he answered with a curt nod, bringing himself forward to run the head of his dick through her wetness. They both sighed at the feeling, and Spencer knew he was in trouble.

It was finally happening, he was getting another chance to have sex with her, and if he didn't last long again, he was going to—

"I love you," Y/N said reassuringly, rubbing circles into the hand that rested on the inside of her thigh.

He looked into her eyes and saw that love radiating from them. It warmed his insides and gave him the confidence he needed to finally, slowly push into her as he whispered, "I love you, too."

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a large breath, leaning down to brace his arms on either side of her head. The pressure of her clenched around him was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he never wanted to move.

But he had to.

She stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses all over his face, and whispered, "I love you."

With those three words, Spencer had the courage to pull back and then forward again, testing the waters and more accurately, his limits. He picked up a slow pace that burned him from the inside out, every muscle and vein in his body on fire with the knowledge that he was finally, properly making love to the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

But he was holding back. Y/N could tell. He glided through her with ease, sure, but his eyes were squeezed shut like he was concentrating, like he was pacing himself and trying to hold on to this feeling.

She moved her hands down to his back and lightly ran her fingernails over the skin, feeling him tremble under her touch.

"You feel so good, Spence," she whispered. "So perfect for me..."

The words made his hips stutter just a little, and Y/N knew then what the hesitation was.

He wanted to go faster.

So she moved her fingers lower, cupping his ass and scratching featherlight circles into the skin as she moaned. "You like when I talk to you, baby? Does hearing my voice help you out?"

Spencer choked out a groan as he opened his eyes and saw how feral she looked. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was pouted cutely, and she smiled as soon as she saw him bite his lip.

"You wanna go faster?" she cooed, digging her fingernails a little harder into the flesh of his ass. "Hmm?"

"F—fuck, Y/N... I..."

"You fuck me however you need to, baby. Don't hold back. Just let it all out."

He groaned out then, his hips picking up speed. She felt the relief and the tension rolling off his body as he finally gave into his urges, and it was just about the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"That's it, baby... Don't stop... Give it to me, let me feel you..."

He leaned down and kissed her then, pumping into her harder and harder with every second. She moaned out against his mouth, swallowing all his breaths and grunts. Meanwhile her fingers gripped his ass harder, relishing in the feeling of his muscles as they aided in fucking her.

His mouth pulled away as he shoved his face into her neck, and she sighed. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck... " His hips kept moving, and she clenched around him hard, hoping to gauge his reaction.

Sure enough, he groaned against her neck and canted his hips harder. Every thrust forward now was so deep he hit her g-spot, and the sensation made her sigh with a smile. "That's fucking right, baby... Just like that, don't stop, don't stop. You fe—el so... ohhh."

Her words lit this fire in him that was impossible to put out. His body was hers for the taking, and so he'd give her everything he had. Which is why he picked up the pace and fucked into her as hard as he could, dangerously close to finishing.

"Fuck, Spence, I'm gonna... —na..."

Y/n's moans turned into a quiet scream as she came, clenching tightly around his dick and digging her fingernails into his ass. Her eyes squeezed shut with the swirling patterns of fireworks exploding behind them, meanwhile he twitched inside of her and lost it at last. As she came down, she helped him hold himself there, deep inside her as his cum spilled over in warm increments. They both moaned out at the feeling, all their tension easing and dissipating.

By the end, all that was left between the both of them was a thin sheen of sweat and murmured promises of "I love you."

They could have fallen asleep right there. Y/N's hands slid up his backside, over his arms, and then to the back of his head, combing gently through his disheveled hair as he pressed loving kisses to the patch of skin where her neck met her collarbone. He was still inside her, unwilling to leave the warmth she provided, and she did nothing to object.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, opening her eyes.

Spencer tilted his head up to look at her, his heart once again swelling at the adoring look in her eyes. "I'm great."

She laughed, and he laughed with her. And they were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, uh... What we just did is what we're counting as our real first time together, right? Like, the other time doesn't count?"

Y/N laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to count this as our first time, then yes. I'd be more than happy to agree with you."

"Good. This was much better."

Even though she would never hold their first first time together against him, she was inclined to agree.

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caranfindel · 4 years ago

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Recap/review 15.20: “Carry On”

I’ll warn you right now - I did not hate it.

THEN: Chuck loses. Jack is God. The Winchesters are finally free.

NOW: Friends, get ready for a whole lot of fan service in the next few minutes. It's like TPTB have been reading everything we say and giving us what we want.

As a song about "ordinary life" plays, Dean's retro alarm clock goes off at 8:00. He shuts it off and sits up so we can see he's wearing a henley shirt (fan service points: 1). As he stretches, he's greeted by Miracle the dog (fan service points: 2)! Who is apparently his dog and definitely not Sam's!

But it's okay because LOOK AT THEM.

Meanwhile, Sam is running (fan service points: 3) and enjoying the beautiful day. When he gets home, he cooks (fan service points: 4) the same dry scrambled eggs that Stevie made for Charlie. Dean wanders in, wearing the dead guy robe, just as two slices of toast pop out of the toaster. I am not giving the robe any points because I don't think it's anything we all publicly long for and get excited about when it comes up, but I am willing to consider any opposing arguments. Sam, wearing just a t-shirt (5 points), tells Dean "it's hot" and I say mmm, yes it is. Dean adorably burns his hands on the hot toast and then brushes his teeth. You know what, I think the robe deserves a point after all. We're up to 6.

And we're not even two minutes into the episode.

And then they JUST KEEP COMING because Sam walks in, exposing his tattoo (7) because he's SHIRTLESS (8), scrubbing at his WET HAIR (9) with a towel, and I curse The Husband for deciding to watch with me because it means it would be kind of awkward to rewind and watch this a few more times. There's not even any dialog I can pretend I didn't catch.

I was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

He pulls on the grey v-neck t-shirt of sex (10) and proceeds to carefully make his bed. Dean, meanwhile, kind of sloppily throws his bed together and calls it done. Domestic Winchesters for 11 fan service points, please. Part of me feels like Dean's messy room is OOC, considering how proud he was to have his own room in the first place. But then I have to consider the trunk of the Impala, especially when compared to the hyper-organized neatness of her trunk when Sam's all alone in Mystery Spot, and it feels right. (Why am I thinking about Sam being all alone in Mystery Spot? NO REASON, NO REASON AT ALL.)

Sam's hair in his face while he makes his bed? Yes, please (12 points).

Dean washes the breakfast dishes (13), sneaking some leftover (because they were nasty) eggs to Miracle and looking around to make sure Sam doesn't see, because obviously Sam's going to be the one who doesn't want the dog to get table scraps. Sam put on a plaid shirt earlier, but we see him in the laundry room back down to one v-neck t-shirt (thank you Jack). He's reading as his laundry tumbles in the dryer, and he has to kick the dryer once to stop it from making noise, which I guess is why he's in there babysitting it. I keep reading on Tumblr that people want "at least one laundry scene," as if that didn't exist in The Monster at the End of This Book, but here's your laundry scene, friends. You were right to want it; it is marvelous (14).

Just look at that collection of plaid shirts and tell me it doesn't make you happy.

Dean times himself assembling a gun, complete with plenty of hand closeups (15) and then sits in the library with Miracle, scratching his ears (Miracle's, not his own) and apparently looking for a case. Sam comes in and joins them. He hasn't found anything, but Dean gets a serious look on his face and says "I got something."

Spoiler alert: It is my heart.

Title card!

The Impala pulls to a stop and the guys get out, still with serious looks on their faces. Oddly, the episode title flashes on screen really quickly. Or maybe it's just me. "Sure you're ready for this?" says Sam. "Oh, I don't have a choice," answers Dean. "This is my destiny." And that is exactly how I felt about watching this episode, friends. Not ready, but no choice. The camera pans to show that the boys are at the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest. In Akron, Iowa? Just north of Sioux City? Five hour drive? Say hi to Jody and the girls while you're there? Probably not. Probably in Akron, Ohio, almost 16 hours away.

(NO ONE CARES. STOP IT.)

Give me a break. This might be the last time I ever get to calculate driving time.

Anyway. Just pies! Nothing serious! Whew, I was concerned for a second. Dean is emotional.

This is just so beautiful.

Are you crying?

What? No. You're crying, I'm not.

No one is crying. There is no reason for ANYONE to cry.

Sam sits on a bench and watches happy pie eating families (sob). Dean returns with a giant box with six slices of pie (16 points). He sits next to Sam, and they have this conversation:

What's wrong?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Nah, come on, I know that face. That's Sad!Sam face.

I'm not Sad!Sam. I just. I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here.

Yeah, I know, I think about them too. You know what, that pain's not gonna go away, right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing.

Dean's right, Sam. Do not be sad. We will have no Sad!Sam tonight. Live your life, or else those sacrifices are wasted. (ahem.) Sam responds by pushing a slice of pumpkin pie into Dean's face. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he laughs. "You're right, I do feel better!" Dean scraping the pie off his face and eating it is pretty adorable.

I'd pay good money to lick that off his face. And not just because I love pumpkin pie.

Not quite 6 minutes in and we're up to at least 16 guaranteed bits of pure fan service. Just sweet, domestic Winchester brothers living their lives. How long has this been going on? I've decided it's been at least a year since the last episode. Maybe longer. A good long time. Lots of time for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. But right now things are getting dark. Because it's nighttime, and because I think somebody's about to die.

A mom sends two young brothers upstairs for bathtime. They pause when the doorbell rings. No one seems to be there, but then the dad is stabbed by people wearing creepy masks. The boys run into their room and hide. From their room, we hear the mom scream, and then a thump. One of the masked guys comes into the room and, after a fake-out when we think they might be safe, drags the boys out from under the bed.

So, domestic life in the bunker and then a hunt? Wow. We're getting it all. What a great episode, full of the things we love.

Is this Becky Rosen's living room?

Daytime. Agents Kripke and Singer (ugh, really? Kripke is good, but how about honoring someone other than the current regime?) show up at the scene. They learn that the dad's blood was drained, the mom is alive but her tongue was ripped out (wow), and the kids were taken. The mom drew a picture of the masks they wore, which the brothers recognize.

In a lovely, picturesque spot, the guys flip through John's journal. And I didn't realize we hadn't seen the journal in a while, but Tumblr informs me many of us were exicted to see it again, so boom. 17 points.

You know what this is? Mimes. Evil mimes.

Yeah. Or vampires.

VampMIMES. Son of a bitch!

Dean comes up with a silly portmanteau name for a monster? That will be 18 points. Sam determines the vamps will be heading for Canton if they follow their pattern, and the victims are families who live on the outskirts of town with children between the ages of five and ten. Well, that couldn't be too difficult to narrow down in a city with a population of over 70,000.

I'll handwave it. The lip biting. You’re welcome.

Night. Canton, I presume. Two masked vamps get out of a van. One of them gets decapitated by Dean. The other is shot in the leg, and then the head, by Sam. Well, he's a vampire, so of course it didn't kill him, but the bullet was soaked in dead man's blood. {Sidebar: "Soaked?" Dipped, maybe, but do you soak metal? Discuss.} They ask where the missing kids are, and the vamp is all, you're gonna let me go if I tell you? "No," Dean explains, adorably disappointed that the vamp isn't a mime after all. "This isn't a you walk out of here kind of situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this." He displays his bloody machete. "But if you take your time, you get, you get that." And "that" is a switchblade which Sam casually pops open right on cue.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that itty bitty one.

It's a bad choice.

You see, this, this is quick. It's clean, you know? No muss, no fuss. You blink and you're dead.

But a blade this small, I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off. And you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon. Every inch. Could take hours.

Oh, and if those kids are dead? He's gonna use a spoon.

GUYS. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I absolutely love when they remind us that Sam Winchester, that sweet boy with the huge heart and the endless supply of empathy and the puppy dog eyes, I love it when they remind us that he is a fucking psycho when he needs to be. I'm not going to give it a point, because I don't think it's anything we've asked for, but again I'm willing to hear all arguments. Especially if they come with detailed examples of Sam going psycho. Just for evidence, you know.

Just casually talkin' bout torturing you to death. No big.

The vampire wisely decides to reveal the location of the nest where the kids are being held. Next we see the Impala pulling up in front of some kind of barn. The guys open the trunk to get their gear out, and Dean pulls out a throwing star. "Come on. One time." Sam says no. There will be plenty of other times for Dean to use his throwing stars, I'm sure.

The guys enter the barn and find it apparently empty, although we see masked vamps peeking at them from outside. They find the kids locked in a closet, but four vampires appear before they can escape. They shoo the boys outside and shoot the vampires with their dead man's blood bullets from a safe distance. No, they don't. Why? I got no goddamn idea.

{Sidebar: At some point during this fight, I realized they hadn't played "Carry On Wayward Son" at the beginning. And that we got a regular montage, not a season finale extended montage.}

Sam gets knocked unconscious, and Dean loses his machete and then gets pinned by a couple of vamps. But they don't kill him; they just hold him down while an unmasked vampire strolls in. Dean recognizes her from season 1, and pretends not to notice Sam's now-conscious hand surreptitiously creeping toward his machete. Suddenly the vampire loses her head, because Sam is behind her, and the fight starts up again. Dean gets thrown into a wall right next to a big metal spike, which we focus on oddly. And then he gets thrown onto the spike. Oops. Sam kills the last of the vamps and doesn't notice Dean's predicament. He's all, cool, fight's over, let's go get those kids out of here. "Sam," Dean says, "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Dean tells Sam there's something stuck in his back and it "feels like it's right through me." He keeps touching his chest as if he expects to feel it poking through. Sam reaches around to touch his back and his hand comes back bloody, and if that gives you All Hell Breaks Loose feels, there's a good reason. Sam tries to pull Dean off the spike, but Dean stops him. "It feels like this thing's holding me together right now." Sam's starting to panic and so am I. He wants to go get the first aid kid and call for help, but Dean stops him. And y'all, I'm just gonna have to type the whole thing out.

Sam, Sam. Stay with me. Please, stay with me, please.

Okay. Yeah.

Okay. Okay. Uh. Right. All right, listen to me. Um. You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, all right?

Dean? WE are gonna get them somewhere safe.

No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things, it's what we do.

Stop, Dean, just stop

It's okay. It's okay. it's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.

I will find away, okay? I will find another way.

No. No. No, no no no no. No bringing me back, okay? You know that always ends bad.

Dean, please.

I'm fading pretty quick, so, there's a few things I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart. You never took any of Dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you, that night that I came for you when you were in school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip?

Uh, the woman in white.

The woman in white, that's right. I must have stood outside your door for hours, cause I didn't know what you would say. I thought you'd tell me to get lost, or get dead. And I didn't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. Cause I was so scared. I was scared. Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you and me.

Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

Yes you can.

Well, I don't want to.

Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you. Right here. Every day. Every day you're out there, and you're living, and you're fighting, cause you, you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there, every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is, it is, and that's okay. I need you, I need you to promise me. I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me it's okay. Look at me. I need. I need. I need you to tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay.

Dean. It's okay. You can go now.

Bye, Sam.

NO, IT IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY.

And of course I haven't described Sam's face as he understands what's happening, Dean's occasional spasms of pain, the handholding, the fucking FOREHEAD TOUCH, the tears, the way Dean's hand drops away, the way Sam's hands shake as he clutches his dead brother (hello, AHBL again).

Maybe we just need to watch it.

Gifs borrowed from @jaredandjensen.

And there's also the Always Keep Fighting shoutout, the "I love you," Dean calling Sam his "baby brother," the "I can't do this alone/Yes you can/Well I don't want to" parallel with 1.01. Infinite points, friends. I can't count that high.

(Things not to think about: Sam putting Dean's body in the back seat, and then putting the two young brothers in the front and driving them to safety. Sam driving 15 hours back to Lebanon with his brother's body. Do not think about these things.)

Aftermath. Sam and Miracle, and no one else, are giving Dean a hunter's funeral. And I know Covid means Sam couldn't have any friends there, but also? This is kind of perfect. Sam facing it alone. The song we hear as Sam lights his brother's pyre is "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, in case you're not emotionally wrecked yet.

Yeah, I'm already there, thanks anyway.

Next we see Sam's slightly more modern alarm going off at 8:00. Note that Sam gets up later now, because at the beginning of the episode, he had already gone for a run and was cooking breakfast when Dean woke at 8:00. But now there's no one to cook for so he doesn't need to get back early and I AM NOT OKAY.

ANYWAY.

Sam gets up and faces his lonely day. He cooks eggs. One piece of toast pops up. He sits in the library with Miracle and looks at the names carved into the table. He wanders the halls with his dog at his side. (SAM HAVING A DOG WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM HAPPY. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE US HAPPY. HOW DARE YOU.)

{Sidebar: Has Sam ever had a dog when he wasn't at a low point in his already-low life? Discuss.}

Eventually he finds himself at the door to Dean's room. The room is just as Dean left it, kind of messy, kind of very full of Dean. He sits on Dean's bed and pets the dog and cries and it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am ROLLING AROUND IN ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PAIN.

No one at all.

@annianvi thinks he’s wearing Dean’s hoodie when he cooks his sad lonely breakfast? Could it be?

Sam hears a phone buzzing in Dean's desk. He digs out the one labeled "Dean's other other phone" and answers. The caller asks for "Agent Bon Jovi" and says he's had some bodies turn up without hearts in Austin. "A friend of mine, Donna Hanscum, said you were the one to call." Oooh, are we sending him to Austin? Is Walker, Texas Ranger just going to be another fake name and fake badge? Now that's how you do a spinoff!

{Sidebar: Does Donna know about Dean? Did Sam tell anyone yet? Is the trying to get him out of the bunker and keep him busy? If so, wouldn't she have given the guy Sam's number, not Dean's other other phone? But maybe it's someone she talked to weeks ago. Discuss.}

Sam tells the caller he is on his way, and we see him with a packed bag, heading out of the bunker with Miracle. He turns to look one last time and then turns off all the lights. We haven't seen the bunker this dark since the day they found it. I don't think he's ever coming back. Goodbye, bunker. I know some people hated you, but I was not one of them. {Sidebar: Did he give the bunker key to anyone? Surely he wouldn't want all those resources to go to waste!}

So, I guess the episode title refers to Sam having (choosing?) to carry on after he loses his brother. THIS IS FINE.

Now we're back at Dean's pyre, and this time we drift up with the smoke. We catch up with Dean, outdoors, in a lovely setting with trees and birds. "Well, at least I made it to Heaven," he says. "Yep," someone answers. It's Bobby! Real Bobby, not AU Bobby! Dean's actually standing next to a building - a cabin, maybe - and Bobby is sitting on the porch.

What memory is this?

It ain't, ya idjit.

Yeah it is. Cause the last I heard, you, you were in in Heaven's lockup.

Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he, well, set some things right. Tore down all the walls. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies any more. It's what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together. Rufus lives about five miles that way. With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. And your mom and dad, they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we been waiting for you.

So Jack did all that.

Well, Cas helped. It's a big new world out there. You'll see.

So, I guess Cas made it out of the Empty? Dean smiles at that, but doesn't suggest finding him or anything. I approve. Bobby pulls out a couple of beers (the green cooler made it into Heaven!!!) and they share some bad beer. Dean comments that Heaven is "almost perfect," and Bobby knows EXACTLY what's missing, because of course he does. "He'll be along. Time up here, it's different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?" Well, Dean doesn't have everything he could ever want or need, but he does see one thing - Baby. With her Kansas plates! Friends, that's two things I requested before the end that I didn't think I would ever see: a forehead touch, and Baby wearing her original plates. Thank you, Jack.

Dean's face lights up. "I think I'll go for a drive." As he walks to his car, we see the cabin is actually Harvelle's Roadhouse, albeit smaller, I think. Dean settles into his car and says "Hey, Baby" and when he turns her on, "Carry On Wayward Son" begins to play.

I know he looks good in Purgatory, but DAMN if he don't look fine in Heaven, too.

We cut to the name Dean, which is embroidered on - a little boy's overalls. Sam's little boy. Oh, wow. I was not prepared for this. Sam has a son named Dean, and we switch back and forth between Dean driving through Heaven and scenes of Sam's life with his son and his mysterious, barely-seen wife. She has long dark hair, and I'd like to point out that she could easily be either Eileen or Dr. Cara Roberts. Just saying. Sam's house is full of family photos, including the one of him and Dean from his memory box and a new one from the episode Lebanon. I never thought about the fact that they might have actually taken a photo, and if they did, would it still be around after Sam smashed the pearl? Well, obviously, yes. We see Sam throwing a ball with his son, helping him with his homework (Sam in glasses? Check!) and just obviously really loving this kid and giving him the childhood he never had. We also see a really, really unfortunate grey wig that I refuse to screencap. You're welcome. As aging Sam sits in the hundred-year-old car in his garage, his dead brother drives happily along dirt roads in Heaven, and I'd prefer my Heaven have paved roads, thanks.

We end in Sam's house, now complete with hospital bed. Sam could be in his 80s or even 90s, which means he could have lived another 50 years, more or less, after Dean died. His son doesn't look any older than his 20s or 30s (and also looks vaguely South Asian to me), and I wonder how old Sam was when he finally let himself have a family. Remember when Dean said his happy ending was for Sam to have kids and get old? Well, he got it, finally. Did Sam get a regular job? Did he keep hunting? We don't know. What we do know is that his son has a anti-possession tattoo. Some people have taken this to mean young Dean is a hunter, but I don't think we can jump to that conclusion. It could just be 1) Dean wanted a tattoo like his father's, or b) Sam knows there are still demons out there and that his son would naturally be a target, hunter or not.

All right, I had to screencap teary-eyed Sam grasping the steering wheel and reliving his years with his brother in this car, so we can just pretend we don't see The Wig, okay?

Sam's evidently in hospice care. Or maybe we'll all have hospital beds in our houses in 50 years. Who knows. His son sits on the bed and takes his hand. Sam smiles at him, and Dean says "Dad, it's okay. You can go now." PARALLELLS! As some woman sings "Carry On Wayward Son" for whatever reason (why didn't they use the lovely a cappella version they already had from Fan Fiction?), Sam places his hand on Dean's and takes his last breath.

{Sidebar: Where is Sam's wife in all of this? Divorced? Already dead? She doesn't seem to be in the family pictures, so I'm going with divorced. Discuss.}

Heaven. Oh, guys. I've done this rewatch without tearing up at all but I'm about to tip over. The Impala pulls onto a bridge. Dean gets out. (Now your life's no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you.) He stands at the bridge railing, enjoying Heaven, smiling. And then he feels something and he smiles even more because he knows it's Sam. Oh god, Jensen did such a good job here. Just this fucking smile killed me dead. "Hey, Sammy," he says. He turns and there is Sam, wearing the same outfit he wore in 1.01 (they both are, but Sam's is a bigger departure from his later years). Why? I don't know. But I know it means Sam Winchester is spending eternity in something that isn't a plaid shirt. How do we feel about that?

"Dean," Sam says. They face each other and smile, and it's the smile of we just survived a hunt I didn't think we'd survive or our son just overpowered God or something along those lines. Then they embrace, and I love the way Sam hesitates just a little before clapping a hand on Dean's back. Like he's afraid it isn't really happening, and he doesn't want to break the illusion. I also love that Dean, as always, takes the top (oh, get your minds out of the gutter) and hugs as if he were taller than Sam. Then Dean puts his hand on the back of Sam's neck and turns him to admire the view and he has this joyous smile like now, this is FINALLY Heaven. And he gazes at Sam like look, Sammy, look what we did. Look what we get. The lack of dialog in this scene is just ~chef's kiss~. The camera goes wide and we see the three main characters, Sam and Dean and Baby, enjoying the Heaven they deserve.

I would like to know where they filmed this, because it's gorgeous even without the Winchesters.

Did Sam's entire life go by in the span of Dean's drive? Or did Dean just decide he'd drive until his brother arrived, no matter how long it took? And how much do I love the fact that he could have gone and visited his parents but instead he said "nah, I'll drive around and wait for Sam?" SO MUCH, PEOPLE. SO MUCH.

Also, can we talk about the fact that Sam didn't know what to expect in Heaven? I mean, Ash said they were soulmates and would share a Heaven, but why would he believe that? And he might have even still believed he'd have a hard time getting into Heaven. What a relief it must have been to show up on Dean's bridge.

And then Jared and Jensen thank us. You're welcome, boys. Thank you.

So. Thursday night I was mildly positive about the episode. But on rewatch, I'm extremely positive. Sure, I would have loved the Six Feet Under ending where we see everyone's fate. And maybe that would have happened if not for Covid. But I'm just relieved we didn't get the Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother endings. I'm not sure this current cohort could have done better, honestly. Sam wanted a normal family life. Dean wanted Sam to have a normal family life. But Sam was never going to stop hunting as long as Dean was hunting. And Dean wasn't going to stop hunting as long as he was alive. Dean got the end he wanted/expected and the Heaven he earned (and Sam caring for Jack was directly responsible for Heaven's improvements). Sam got to live a normal life and have a family. As I said earlier, I suspect his marriage didn't last. (Or maybe he and Eileen or Cara got married for insurance purposes, and happily co-parented little Dean, but knew they weren't each other's one true love.) But I actually prefer that. Dean loved Sam more than he loved anyone. Sam loved Dean the same way. I'm glad Sam got to have a child (who he loves as much as his brother, but in a different way), but I don't want Sam and Dean to share their Heaven with Sam's wife.

Now, would I have done Dean's death differently? Yes. I did appreciate that they had him upright, so the brothers were face to face, just like AHBL. But being impaled on a spike was just less dramatic that I would have liked. I would have preferred that Sam immediately see his brother was dying, instead of Dean having to explain it to him. Dean could have had his jugular torn, slowly bleeding out, and still been on his knees (held up by Sam, hell yes) making his deathbed speech. And then I wouldn't have thought "would an ambulance be here by now if you'd called them?" halfway through it.

{Sidebar: What if Sam had fed Dean some blood from one of the dead vamps. Wouldn't that have kept him undead long enough to get fixed up, and then they could have done the vampire cure? Discuss.}

I know some people are very unhappy about the finale. Honestly, from what I can tell, most of those people are hard-core Destiel shippers. And I guess they wanted, as they always do, for the Dean and Castiel relationship to be more important than the Dean and Sam relationship. Sorry, guys, that was never gonna happen. In the end, it came down to the epic love story of Sam and Dean, just as it should have.

So, I'm sad and I'm happy. I'm bereft and I'm full. I miss my boys, but my boys will always be with me. I hope you guys will be with me for a long time, too.

#spn #15.20 #spoilers #recap #tv recaps

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et-lesailes · 5 years ago

Photo

title: the inside scoop

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2461

summary: you are a reporter with a certain favorite celebrity to interview, and you’re more than excited to talk to him about his latest movie, knives out. little do you know that your massive crush on him is actually requited.

themes: fluff

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @denisemarieangelina, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @inactivewhore, @hurricanerinwrites

notes: this was a commissioned piece requested by @straightforwardly ! thank you so much for supporting me and i hope this is everything you wanted :) ** if you are interested in my commissions, check out this post right here !

You’re quickly wrapping up with hair and makeup, looking at your reflection in the mirror trying not to smile so much. You were particularly happy to wake up for work that day, all because of who you’re interviewing today.

You’ve had the pleasure of working with Chris Evans a few times before, and while at first it was his looks that drew you in, it didn’t take long for you to simply fall in love with his entire being. The first time was a little nerve wracking. You had seen other interviews where he seemed a little grumpy, tired, and annoyed with the questions he was being asked, and so you had put as much thought into your own questions as possible. You refused to be like the other journalists and reporters, the ones who simply asked Marvel related questions or how he worked out. It was easy to see that this man had personality much deeper than that, and you were always eager to explore it. You remember how your heart had been pounding right before that first interview, but the second the two of you started talking, it was simply… amazing. Despite only having known him for minutes, you had already felt perfectly comfortable and secure with him, as if you had known him for years. You had heard from others that he had that effect on people, but you never imagined it was to that extent.

Now here you are, getting ready for your fifth interview with him. Another thing you love about Chris is that he actually remembers who you are, each and every time. It always makes you feel special, though you have to remind yourself to calm down- he’s simply considerate and personable, he probably remembers other reporters he’s seen multiple times too.

“Alright, you’re all set. Chris finished up a few minutes ago, he’s probably out there getting seated.” The stylist tells you, and you smile up at him with a nod. “Thank you!” Standing up, you take a deep breath as you inspect yourself in the mirror. You’ve become used to seeing celebrities as a part of your job, but Chris is the only one who has your heart racing and butterflies fluttering. Even interviewing Jason Momoa for Aquaman couldn’t get you as simultaneously excited and nervous as appearing before Chris; you have the biggest crush on him, but at the same time, what can you do about it? Honestly, you’re convinced he probably has a secret girlfriend- it simply makes no sense to you that a man like him is single.

‘Thank God for hair and makeup,’ you think to yourself, pleased with your appearance- it’s not too overdone, but just the right amount, mainly just so the lighting doesn’t wash you out on camera. You gather your cards and take another breath, forcing yourself to calm down before going out to where the chairs are- you were hoping to play it cool, but the second you see him, a wide smile emerges on your face. How a man can look so handsome simply sitting there wearing a long sleeve maroon sweater and fitted jeans while playing around with a water bottle in his hands, you have no idea. “Hi there! Sorry to keep you waiting.” You greet him, and he looks up, immediately grinning. “Oh, hey, Y/N!” To your surprise, he stands up and extends his arms out for a hug, pulling you in for a warm embrace as if you’re a longtime friend he hasn’t seen in a while. You’re shocked but you quickly take the opportunity to hug him back, resisting the urge to inhale how damn good he smells. His broad chest feels so warm and perfect against you, and you swear you could be in this position forever.

“How have you been?” you ask as normally as you can, finally pulling back with a smile and gesturing for him to sit as you do as well. “Oh, same old, same old. I have to say though, I’ve been looking forward to this. I love interviewing with you, you always ask such awesome questions!” he compliments you, and you’re squealing on the inside. “Ahh, now I feel so much pressure!” you joke, though give him an appreciative smile as you cross your legs. “Thank you, though. That means a lot, I really do try to avoid the questions actors seem to hear all the time.”

“I’ve noticed, and I appreciate it.” Chris replies with a smile, his blue eyes sparkling more beautifully than the goddamn ocean. It’s truly overwhelming how handsome he is; you feel as though looking at him is like staring right into the sun sometimes. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say somewhat shyly, but clear your throat, glancing towards the cameraman. “We ready to start?”

“All good,” he replies with a thumbs up, and you wait for the signal before beginning with a smile. “Hello, everyone! I’m Y/N, and I’m here with Chris Evans today to talk a little about his latest movie, Knives Out!” Chris waves to the camera with a little smile, but almost immediately looks back towards you. “Glad to be here, Y/N.” God, you love when he says your name. ‘Hold it together, Y/N.’ You think to yourself; thankfully, your job basically consists of looking composed on the outside, and so you’ve at least had plenty of practice.

You give a brief summary of the movie to begin, then go into speaking about his character, Ransom. Looking towards him, you tilt your head slightly. “Now I know you played the ultimate golden boy when it came to Captain America, but a lot of your roles in the past have actually had a more twisted and angsty side. Curtis Everett in Snowpiercer, Syd in London, Mike Weiss in Puncture, and especially Bryce Langley in Fierce People. Was it a difficult adjustment going back to playing a more villainous character, or did you have a good time with it?”

“Wow. Even bringing out Fierce People, huh? You really did your research,” he teases, making you laugh softly before he continues to answer, looking thoughtful. “Honestly, it was pretty fun. Don’t get me wrong, I loved playing Captain America and the other lighter, comedic roles are fun too. But being a little wicked and vile is pretty entertaining as an actor. I missed it a lot, and I think I clicked with it again pretty easily.” He pauses before laughing, looking at the camera. “I make that seem like I’m just naturally an evil person. Like, ‘Yeah, it’s so easy for me to be an asshole on camera- because I am one in real life!’” he makes fun of himself, and you can’t help but laugh again as you reply playfully, “Well, you are from Boston, aren’t you? What are they called over there? Massholes?” He blinks and laughs loudly, grabbing his left pec which only makes you giggle to yourself and feel oddly triumphant at the same time. You love making him laugh. “Oh God, you’ve heard that term? Yeah, I’d say that definitely describes me pretty well.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re not that bad.” You remark playfully, then realize you should probably stop transitioning this interview into flirtatious banter, and so you decide to move on to the next question. “Now for this particular movie, you have a variety of actors and actresses around you- some who are insanely experienced and have been in the industry for decades, and some who, while experienced, are young and only continue to climb upwards in their career. How did you feel, being a part of that? Does it bring back memories, does it influence you, do you influence or guide them?” you ask curiously, continuing, “You’re such an accomplished actor, and this cast was pretty remarkable as well- I imagine there were all sorts of different feelings working with them.”

Chris nods as he listens carefully, smiling and even looking somewhat intrigued. “That’s a great question. Yeah, I was definitely pretty nervous actually. I really wanted this role, and I was kind of intimidated going into it all. These people are amazing, honestly. I feel like I’ve learned so much from them, from Daniel to Jaeden, and I can only hope that I’m able to be a good influence on other actors as the ones I look up to are to me. It’s interesting that you mention memories, though. Seeing younger actors and actresses always reminds me of myself when I was younger- and then proceeds to make me feel very old.” He laughs, shaking his head to himself. “But watching Jaeden and Katherine, God, they’re great. They have such drive, ambition, and they’ve already made it so far. They’re so fun and I’m pretty sure I was nowhere near as talented as them at that age, but I definitely remember having that energy.”

You can’t help but smile as you listen to him. You’ve seen in other interviews that he wants to start a family one day, and that he’s excited to be a father. It’s adorable to you that he appreciates younger castmates so much, and even shows respect to them as actors. “You don’t think you still have that energy?” you tease, and he laughs, making an “eh” gesture with his hand. “Sometimes, but I’m telling you, I’ve gotten old. Years of action movies and stunts will do that to you,” he jokes, and you remember that he actually did a lot of his own stunts for the Captain America movies- no wonder he has such nice muscles. “Well, if it’s any consolation, you certainly don’t look old.” You can’t help but reply, but glance back down at your cards, forcing yourself to stay on track. The cameraman, one of your friends, is probably snickering to himself, and you bet you’re going to get quite interesting comments once this video is uploaded. How can you not go back and forth with him though, just a little? He makes it so easy, what with his perfect sense of humor, contagious laugh, and mere eye contact. He makes you feel like a person, a friend, not just some nosy reporter.

After a few more questions (and a teensy bit of flirting), the interview finally comes to an end. “I hope you guys are excited to watch this movie, because I’m telling you, it’s a good one- and I think everyone will be very entertained by Ransom Drysdale.” You remark with a raised brow, looking to him with a soft laugh. “Thank you for coming, Chris!” He smiles charmingly, waving at the camera. “Thanks for having me, Y/N. I had a great time.”

The cameraman signals that he’s stopped recording, but flashes you a little smirk before turning to the crew to discuss the work that needs to happen next. You blush slightly but clear your throat, looking up at him- you hate this part because he’ll have to leave soon, but you’re hoping you can squeeze in just a little conversation before that happens. “Seriously, thanks again. Honestly, you’re one of my favorite celebrities to interview,” you admit with a slight laugh, biting your lip. “You actually answer with… depth.” He laughs too, barely leaning forward. “Oh, yeah? Are you accusing celebrities of being airheads?”

“Some of them!” you can’t help but answer bluntly, and both of you are laughing again. Now he bites his lip, suddenly looking at you a little more intensely than before- you hope your cheeks aren’t becoming as red as they feel. “Hey, Y/N. Can I ask you something?” You nod a little too fast, your curiosity piqued. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Do you, uh…” he pauses for a few moments before chuckling slightly, waving his hand. “Ah, fuggit, I’m just gonna come out with it.” His Boston accent comes out even stronger than usual as he swears, and you love and hate how attractive it sounds. “Are you dating anyone?”

Your heart is pounding at this point, and you have to force yourself to respond in a way in which your voice doesn’t shake. “No, I’m not.” You cock your head, holding back a smile. “Why do you ask…?” He seems to look pleased about this, even visibly perking up before suddenly looking uncertain again, laughing awkwardly. “Okay. Okay, um, please tell me if this is crossing any lines. Like, please. Don’t be scared to slap me, even.” He jokes, and now you’re feeling the excitement bubbling up inside, though at the same time your brain is screaming at you not to raise your hopes up. “I have permission to slap you. Noted.” You tease in return, proud of yourself that you still somehow seem to have your wits intact. He laughs, eyes twinkling as he continues, “I know we’ve only had a professional relationship but… I was… kinda hoping I could take you out sometime. Dinner, walking the dog, a movie, ice cream, roller skating- anything. I just… man, I really want to get to know you.” He confesses, and it takes you everything to not practically jump up and down and squeal right there. You’re shocked. You truly never thought that someone as famous and attractive as him would be interested in a mere reporter.

“Chris.” You smile widely, nothing but eagerness in your sparkling eyes. “I would love that.” You blush slightly, adding, “If we’re being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for like, years now.” Chris widens his eyes, scoffing in playful frustration as he buries his head in his hands. “You’re serious? God dammit, I knew I should have asked you earlier!” He looks up at you again, sighing deeply. “I really just assumed you were dating someone. Hell, even married. I mean, look at you, you’re gorgeous, funny, smart…. And you have depth.” He refers to your previous comment, and you laugh, though blush madly as you do so. “Thanks,” you reply softly- you swear you’ve never felt this much happiness in your life.

His manager comes up behind him, gently tapping his shoulder. “Chris, we should get going. We have another interview to get to.” He blinks, looking somewhat disappointed but nods, looking back to you. “Mind if I get your number, then? We can talk later?”

You nod, biting your lip delightedly as he hands you his phone as if you’re a child receiving a king sized candy bar. After putting your number in, you give it back- only to be wrapped up in another hug from him. “I’ll see ya real soon,” he whispers in your ear, and you’re blushing even deeper than before, though you nod with a little giggle.

“I can’t wait.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans fanfiction #rhee commissions

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aster-aspera · 4 years ago

Text

Another drabble I wrote for my superhero AU, though this one turned out a lot longer than I expected.

masterlist for my superhero AU

Relationships: platonic/romantic DLAMP

CW: chronic pain, flare ups, some internalized ableism, mentions of Janus’s mom’s less than stellar parenting.

A/N: While this chapter vaguely draws on my experiences with my back and knees, I don’t have arthritis. I tried to do as much research as possible and hope I have managed to portray it correctly. If my depiction is in any way offensive or incorrect, please don’t hesitate to inform me and I will correct my mistakes or even delete this writing. Hope you enjoy <3

Janus woke up with that familiar hurt curled around his bones. He sighed wearily as he looked out the large stained glass windows. Rain was beating against the panes with a violent intensity.

Some days he wondered why he stayed here, wouldn’t it be better to just move to a nice sunny country where the sky didn’t seem to want to drown them? Who was he kidding, this city would never let him go, rain and his aching bones be damned.

He rolled over in bed a few times, hoping stubbornly the pain would allow him to sleep a little longer. It was way too early to even think about getting up, in his opinion. After a few more minutes of his body complaining and aching, he wearily dragged himself out of bed.

He fumbled around for his cane and slowly made his way to the kitchen. He popped a heat pad into the microwave and switched on the kettle. Fortunately, it was still filled with water, meaning he didn’t have to struggle with taps right now. Picking up the heating pad had been hard enough with his hands feeling like they had been run over by a steamroller.

Why did it have to be today of all days? It wasn’t like he’d had that many plans but he had been meaning to at least get some work done.

There was no way he’d be able to do much of anything today, merely the thought of typing made him cringe, let alone the thought of actually going outside.

When his heat pad was warm, he curled up on the couch in the most comfortable position he could find and resigned himself to a day spent watching mindless television.

Somewhere around ten, a call came in and Janus fumbled to answer it with his stiff and aching fingers.

“Damore,” He introduced curtly. If it was another bullshit telemarketer he was going to strangle someone. Once his body was halfway functioning again, of course.

“Hello Janus,” Logan’s voice filtered through the phone speakers, in the background he heard Roman yell something. “Yes, I’ll ask, now could you please be quiet,” Logan said, presumably to Roman.

Janus felt his lips quirk up into a smile despite himself.

“We were wondering if you would like to accompany us to Carntos forest, we were planning a hike.” The smile slipped off Janus's face. Of all days to have a flare up.

“As much as I would love to, I’m afraid I can’t come. Maybe some other day.” He tried not to sound too bitter.

“Oh,” Logan sounded disappointed “why not?”

Janus hesitated. Usually, he would just grasp at the nearest convenient lie, he could easily tell them he was busy with work. But, he’d been learning not to do that, to let them in, not to bury himself in lies and mystery.

“I’m not feeling too well today,” He eventually said, he didn’t feel like explaining his condition right now. His mother’s words still echoed in his head.

They wouldn’t think him weak, would they? They were good people. But after a lifetime of being told that he was faking it and to suck it up, he wasn’t exactly keen to share it with other people. He was supposed to be strong, a terrifying villain, not someone who could barely get out of bed some days.

He was shook out of his self deprecating thoughts by Logan. “Are you alright? Do we need to come over?” He asked, his voice filled with concern.

Janus felt emotion well up in his throat, not a lot of people held so much concern for him. He shook his head. Really? He was getting all teary eyed over some polite sympathy?

“No, I’m fine. I hope you enjoy your hike.” He pressed the end call button before Logan could say something else that would make him bawl like a baby.

He was just dozing off uncomfortably, when a knock on his door startled him.

Who was even…?

He got up painfully and limped to the door, leaning heavily on his cane. He grabbed the gun from its hiding place before opening the door. It never hurt to be cautious. When he opened it, he was greeted by four smiling faces.

“Hi,” Patton greeted cheerfully, “We brought soup.” He held up a large container.

In that eloquent way of his, Janus just stuttered out “What?”

Roman gently grabbed his shoulders and steered him back inside, putting the gun down on the table. The others followed, Virgil laden with a variety of food and Logan carrying some dvd’s. Patton made his way into the kitchen and started clattering around in the cabinets.

“We’re here to take care of you,” Roman explained as he sat Janus down on the couch. Then he abruptly drew back “It’s not contagious is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Janus said, distracted by Patton and Virgil doing god knows what in the kitchen and Logan heading towards his bedroom. They had all invaded his space with a swift efficiency.

“Great, so what’s wrong?” Roman asked, sitting down on the couch opposite him.

“It’s…” Janus’s mind was not cooperating right now. He tried to think of something.

“Dude, I’m literally a nurse, you can tell me.”

“I’d rather not.” Janus said, sounding a lot more defensive than he had meant. He was just slightly stressed out by these people barging into his house and Roman pestering him. He really wanted a nap and for today to be over.

Roman looked him over critically. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me, but we’re not leaving till you feel better.”

“Prepare to stay a while then,” Janus couldn’t help himself from laughing bitterly.

Roman’s eyebrows scrunched up adorably and then he smiled. “Well, that’s good, ‘cause Patton brought lots of food, so we can hang around for as long as needed.”

Janus curled his shoulders protectively. “You don’t have to.”

“But we want to.” Logan had appeared from the bedroom with an armful of blankets and was looking at Janus with such gentle and loving eyes and Janus had absolutely no idea how to deal with any of this. Why were they here? Why would they ditch their plans just to take care of him? Why did they even care?

Virgil and Patton came in too, carrying a tray laden with fresh buns, fruit, a bowl of soup and some tea. Janus’s stomach grumbled noisily. He’d only really eaten some crackers, as he didn’t have the energy to prepare anything more fancy than that.

“I don't know what you want to eat right now, so I’d thought I’d go with the classics for someone who’s sick but I have other stuff too, if you want.” Patton fretted.

“No, this is fine.” Janus replied.

He made to eat the soup then stopped abruptly. There was no way he could manage that, his hands were aching all the way from the tips of his fingers to his elbows and they were so stiff he could barely curl them around the spoon, let alone coordinate them enough to eat.

He suddenly felt very vulnerable, with all of them staring at him. He cleared his throat.

“I’m actually not really in the mood for soup.” He apologized and reached for the bread. That, at least he could eat without too much trouble.

“That’s fine, we just need to make sure you eat something. You’ll never get better if you starve yourself,” Patton replied cheerfully.

Janus cringed internally. They didn’t know, he couldn’t blame them for it, but god, did those words hurt. Always that same question: are you better yet?

“So, which movie do you want to watch?” Roman burst out, eager to get started on that.

“Maybe you should first ask him if he even wants to watch a movie, you idiot.” Virgil hissed.

“All right, no need to rain on the black parade, sunshine,” Roman defended.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“I’d love to watch a movie,” Janus said before the two could start a full blown argument.

The others settled into the couch and Janus barely suppressed a whimper when Logan jostled his legs. Wow, he was really pathetic today.

Despite his best efforts, Logan noticed his discomfort and looked at him, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Janus immediately deflected, then when Logan’s eyebrows did not change their stance “It’s just… my knees hurt, so please be careful.”

“Oh, did you hurt them during patrol?” Patton asked.

“Patrol?”

“You fell off a roof?”

Oh, yeah, that had happened. His cheeks heated up in shame as Virgil tried to stifle a laugh. Jumping over rooftops was not his forte. The fall itself had probably looked a lot worse than it actually was, he had only vaguely scraped his elbows.

“Yeah, I remember. No it’s not that.”

“Really? It looked like a pretty bad fall, it would make sense that your knees hurt after something like that.”

Patton didn’t seem like he would let it go anytime soon. He was clearly worried about Janus. He sighed, it was going to come to light some day, better to bite the bullet now than to wait for when he would be forced to reveal it. He took a deep breath, oddly nervous. He shouldn’t be this worried, they cared for him, they were his friends, they had come all the way here to take care of him.

“I’m actually just having a bad flare up today.”

A beat of silence followed his statement and Janus tried not to panic. But Roman just nodded understandingly.

“You mind if I ask what…?”

“Rheumatoid arthritis, symptoms started when I was about seventeen.”

“You could have just told us, honey,” Patton exclaimed.

“I don’t always feel comfortable sharing it”

“Well, I’m happy you felt comfortable sharing it with us,” Virgil said.

“Yes, I’m happy you trust us with this knowledge, Janus.”

What was this annoying fuzzy feeling in his stomach? It was probably the tea, or maybe the buns, who knew what Patton put in those.

“Do you need anything?” Roman asked.

“Well, some more heat pads would be nice.”

“I'll get it.” Virgil got up.

“Does it jostle you too much when we sit on the couch?” Logan asked.

Janus hesitated, he was already bothering them so much, it really wasn’t polite to kick them off the couch too.

“Jan, sweety, please be honest with us, we don’t want to hurt you,” Patton pleaded.

“Yeah, it does.”

All of them happily moved to the floor, laying down some pillows and blankets so it was still comfortable. Virgil returned and passed him the heat pads.

“So, how long do these flare ups usually last?” Roman asked.

“Usually most of the day, sometimes longer.”

“Well, as Roman promised, we’re staying here as long as it lasts.”

“Yay! Slumber party,” Patton exclaimed.

“As long as you don’t throw any pillows at me,” Logan sighed, before promptly getting hit in the face by a pillow from Virgil. He looked at him with a look of utter betrayal.

Eventually, everyone got settled and they turned the movie back on. Janus tried his best to focus on the plot but soon found himself drifting off.

#janus sanders #ts janus #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan #roman sanders #ts roman #virgil sanders #ts virgil #dlamp #romantic dlamp #tw pain #sander sides #sanders sides fic #superhero au #ts superhero au #my writing

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Note

34 and 11 please with Lucifer and Simeon.

So, I couldn’t tell if you meant Lucifer/Simeon as a pair or Lucifer and Simeon with the reader... sooo I just went with it. Took me a while to figure out how to write this with a good dynamic. A little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, a lot of romance... I hope you like it! (unedited bc we die like heroes here) Gender Neutral Reader

_(:3 」∠)_

Part of the Two-Part Drabble Game Requests

Setting: Date gone wrong Quote: “Your hand is in my personal space. Not that I mind. Character: Lucifer and Simeon

It was supposed to be a cute little outing downtown with Simeon. It was supposed to be a well deserved break from your hectic life to unwind and spend some time with the guy you liked. It was supposed to be the perfect day out. Some lunch, some window shopping, maybe a stroll in the park and then watching the sunset together.

Supposed to be.

However, neither of you had been made aware of the festival being held in town that day. Instead of the usual bustle of a reasonably busy weekend, the streets were packed with crowds. Your senses were assaulted by all the sounds, smells and sensations that came with a festival.

At first, you wanted to ride it out, pretend it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. However, Simeon could sense your discomfort with having to deal with so many people in one place at one time. “Let’s go somewhere else.” he suggested when he noticed the way you flinched at any remotely loud, sudden sound.

You were more than happy to get out of the thick of things and to somewhere quieter. Simeon seemed to know all of the good hole-in-the-wall cafes and brought you to one of his favorites. Immediately, the warm wood finishing and the quiet chatter put you in a much more agreeable state of mind.

Simeon led you to a quiet corner of the cafe once your orders had been retrieved and placed his hand on top of yours. “Sorry I didn’t plan this day better.” he apologized, rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. “I know how you are with crowds and I didn’t think to look…”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink and letting the familiar flavors take the edge of your frazzled nerves more. “It’s okay.” You reassured him. Though the date hadn’t gone as planned, you still got to spend some quality time with him. “I don’t think either of us really looked up if there was going to be anything going on downtown today. It’s neither here nor there.”

He smiled softly, adoring how you were still so determined to be out and about with him despite usually being an introvert. It was a rare opportunity for both of you to have time to do anything like this. Simeon didn’t have the right words to quite express just how happy he was to just have time with you. “Well, since we’re here, I think I remember there’s a pa--”

“Simeon?”

Simeon stopped mid sentence when he heard his name being called. He looked around to see who the owner of the voice was and as soon as he saw who it was, he broke out in a wide grin. “Lucy? Is that really you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Simeon scooted his seat over to allow Lucifer to join in. You stared, dumbfounded at the sudden intrusion, but didn’t question it. The way Simeon beamed and grinned when he saw this person was an expression you rarely saw. It was likely best to leave things for the time being.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? And who might this be?”

“My partner!” Simeon stated proudly before introducing you to him.

“A pleasure to meet you. Lucifer.” The stranger greeted smoothly before pulling up a chair to join you at the table. “I hope I’m not intruding on your date together.”

“Oh, no not at all.”

It would have been rude to interject and tell him that he was intruding. You had to keep Simeon’s smile in mind. It was an expression you rarely got to see. He was usually so cool and collected, seeing him so animated was a bit of treat for you. For his sake, you didn’t want to cause a scene. Your initial date plans had been foiled anyway, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse, right?

“Lucy and I go way back.” Simeon explained. “At least two decades.”

“I think it’s a little more than that.” Lucifer chimed in. “And can you not call me that in public?”

“Okay fine Lucifer.” Simeon corrected himself. “What have you been up to these past few years? I feel like we lost all contact after you quit your last job.”

“Ah, well…”

What they had was a bond that went beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. The way they interacted and reminisced about the times they had together pushed a thorn of envy into your heart. They had all the time in the world and you had only ever occupied a fraction of Simeon’s life. It didn’t feel right to cut into their conversation as they reminisce over the past and caught up.

They pulled you into a life with them that you could never experience. The drink in your hand grew tepid as the hours went by and they continued to chat. It was almost as if you weren’t there, as if you didn’t matter. Despite being surrounded by people, it felt oddly lonely to be at that table with them. They were in their own little world and you could only imagine what it would have been like if you were with them.

For a moment, you were pulled out of the romantic moment you were having with Simeon to see him in a way you were never permitted to. This stranger and his stories about his life drew out an energy and a life no one ever got to see. It was an odd magic Lucifer had and you were equal parts grateful and envious of it.

There was something that drew even you in. Lucifer had a way with words that had you entranced and falling in love with the world he built. You could understand how Simeon seemed to be so smitten with reconnecting with him. The stories he shared were mundane yet somehow so colorful, you could imagine yourself right there with him. It put you in a comfortable lull and you didn’t mind being so quiet during the time the three of you shared.

“So what brought you out to this side of town anyway?” Lucifer asked, turning to you for a change and dragging you into the conversation.

You snapped out of your daze and blinked. Surely he was asking Simeon and not you; however, when you looked up at your partner, you were surprised to see that he too was looking at you, waiting for an answer. “Ah, well…” You laughed nervously, fidgeting with the empty cup in your hands. “We were supposed to be on a date downtown…”

“So I was interrupting something.”

“Well, no. I mean, it was too crowded downtown so we left early.” You shrugged, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did. Having a whole day of plans ruined more than once weighed heavily on your shoulders. But, moving the focus to yourself was selfish and rude. After all, Simeon hadn’t seen Lucifer in years, you weren’t about to break up a long awaited reunion. “It’s not a big deal. It’s probably better that we ended up here anyway.”

Lucifer hummed, tapping his finger on the table and assessing the energy between all parties at the table. “Well, I apologize nonetheless for interrupting and usurping your time. Allow me to make it up to you both.”

You learned quickly that Lucifer moved the world at his own pace and all in his wake were helpless in objecting his whims. He led the two of you out of the quiet cafe and onto the streets washed with the warm oranges of a perfect sunset. One of his hands held onto Simeon while the other near dragged you along to follow his impossibly quick gait.

He moved with a grace and a purpose you wouldn’t have expected for someone traveling so fast. You stumbled, half jogging to keep up with him. You didn’t know if you should be worried about where you were being taken. Simeon’s cheerful laugh as he was being towed behind Lucifer seemed to at least bode well.

While the scenery flashed by you and all you could do was focus on keeping up with Lucifer’s long strides and purposeful direction. You could only hope that he wasn’t about to lead you to your untimely demise. While frantically trying to match his pace, you realized that you couldn’t deny how easily this man had injected himself into your life. The way he asserted himself and dominated the pace of the day had you a little bit infatuated with him. His life beyond the little tidbits he shared at the coffee table had piqued your interest and left you yearning for more of his stories. The backdrop of Simeon’s gleeful laughing only added to his allure as it seemed like this man was the only person in the world who could pull such strong emotions out of your partner.

By the time he let the two of you stop and catch your breath, you were greeted with a grand view of the town below you. If you squinted, you could make out the rough outline of the downtown buildings where your day had begun. The sun had just sunk past the horizon and twilight washed across the city. Tiny twinkling lights from the windows illuminated the darkened residential areas, bringing the night sky to earth.

Further, the distinct whistle and pop of fireworks went off where the festival was being held. You made your way over the railing at the ledge you had arrived at and leaned against it to get the best view of the show. “Oh wow, I didn’t know this place existed.” You breathed, admiring the light show.

“Hopefully it makes up a little for the awful date this has been.” Simeon apologized softly, he reached for your hand and squeezed it softly. “It’s been a bit of a flop, huh?”

You giggled, it was impossible to be mad at him when he was so cute. Oblivious as he might be, you could forgive him for one terrible date. “Well, really, you have to thank your friend for saving it.”

Simeon tilted his head and looked at Lucifer who had joined you at the railing and mouthed a quick thanks in his direction. Lucifer only shrugged, waving it off as if he did things like this on a regular basis.

While they had their little silent exchange, you let your emotions stew. You were being unreasonably selfish wanting to keep Simeon in your life while also getting to know Lucifer better. The two of them had a chemistry you couldn’t deny and if all things didn’t work out in the end, you reasoned it would only bring them together while you made a graceless exit out of their lives. Perhaps it was the overall romantic ambience that emboldened you to go for it.

You tried to be subtle, but you were sure Lucifer was the kind of person who took note of everything that happened around him. Before you could reach out for him, you felt his fingers pull your hand closer to his, lacing themselves in between his own and securing your palm against his.

“Uhm… Excuse me, your hand is in my personal space….” You paused, averting your gaze and trying not to be too flustered about it. “Not that I mind…” You mumbled the last part as the boom and crackle of the fireworks drowned out your words.

One hand held the love of your life, the other held the hand of an alluring stranger who had an impossibly strong pull. Between them, you were torn and impossibly selfish, wishing you could have both in your lives. The show was dying down and before it ended, you knew you had to make a choice.

“So, Lucifer.” You started, finally gathering up enough courage to look him in the eye. “How about you come over for dinner sometime?”

“That sounds lovely, I would be honored to join you.”

Behind you, Simeon leaned to the side, catching his old friend’s eyes. He grinned from ear to ear, winking knowingly and squeezed your hand in reassurance.

Perhaps the date wasn’t a total flop after all.

#Simeon x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Simeon x Lucifer #Simeon x Lucifer x Reader #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Simeon #obey me fanfiction #my writing #requests #Anonymous #Happy sunday #I have never had a single coherent thought in my life

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spartanguard · 5 years ago

Text

babyfaced

Summary: A bet gone awry forces Killian to get rid of his beard for a month. going beardless makes him look significantly younger; but the clock turns back on more than just his face. | rated T; 2.2k words

dedicated to @xpumpkindumplingx who told me to “do the thing” and @thesschesthair because this is either up her alley or the exact opposite of it.

A/N: just a bit of a crack fic inspired by this post (and the fact that Colin O’Donoghue is a freaking baby face when he shaves), but plus magic—because it’s Storybrooke and we can. header image taken by @lillpon.

Killian sighed heavily and stared at himself in the mirror, committing his face to memory. He ran a hand over his well-maintained scruff, relishing the feel of it against his palm for the last time for the foreseeable future.

“C’mon, Killian—it’s just a shave,” David shouted from outside the restroom at Granny’s.

It was a stupid bet, which of course Killian, in all his cocky arrogance, had taken Dave up on. And it was just his dumb luck that David would have the best darts game of his life and Killian his worst.

So now Killian had to shave off his beard and remain bare-faced for a month. (A month that was typically biting cold and he was always grateful for the bit of a barrier his beard provided.) He hadn’t gone without a beard since...well, not since he was capable of growing one. And there was a reason for that.

But he was nothing if not a man of his word, so with one last caress of his beloved stubble, he picked up the shaving implements he’d been provided with and set to work.

Although he had to send a disparaging glare at the can of shaving foam, labeled as Baby Face Shaving Cream. It was already mocking him. But at least Granny kept straight blades on hand, so he was able to complete the task at hand with some familiarity—even if it meant the result staring back at him was anything but.

Head hung down, he finally emerged from the lavatory to his waiting father-in-law. He could already hear David snickering.

“What, trying to hide? Come on—give me the full view.”

Killian gripped the can of shaving cream so hard he thought it might burst as he huffed and shifted his weight between his feet. “Must I?”

“Unless you plan on looking at the ground for the next month, then yeah.”

Best just get it over with. “Fine.” And he lifted his head to look David straight in the eyes.

It was simultaneously amusing and embarrassing the way Dave’s eyes grew wide at the sight. “Wow, you weren’t kidding—you really do look 10 years younger. Or a hundred and ten, or whatever.”

“No, I wasn’t. So please get all your infant jokes out now.”

David gave all he could in that department on the short walk back to the dining area, and had wrapped them up by the time Killian slumped into the booth next to Emma. He was back to trying to hide his chin and keenly felt the sensation of all eyes being on him, which just made him want to melt into the vinyl cushions even more.

As much as could be said for his leather jackets and kohl, that beard was part of the armor he used against the world, in addition to helping give him a commanding appearance. Without it, he felt much like a lost youth again, and oddly naked.

But then Emma’s hand was on his (very smooth) cheek, turning his face towards her. He heard her hitch her breath and that drew his attention, finally forcing him to look back up. She was studying him intently, and brushing the back of her fingers across his bare skin. Her brow was furrowed and to his surprise, he couldn’t tell why.

“Is it alright, love?” he asked quietly; if she hated it, then the deal with Dave was off.

But then a smirk took over her features. “It’s adorable,” she gushed, much to his consternation; he hung his head yet again. “No, Killian—come on,” she protested, and pulled his chin back up. “It’s different, but a good kind—it’s like seeing you in high school or something.”

“See? I look like a teenager. This is ridiculous.”

“I think you look very sweet, Killian,” Snow said from the other side of the booth, but that didn’t help much.

“Exactly,” Emma agreed. “You are a softie, Killian Jones, and for once, you look like it.”

He did have to admit: the way Emma couldn’t keep her hands off his face did have a perk, and she seemed to enjoy peppering his smooth cheeks with kisses (he also conceded that it felt nice to have her lips right against his skin). But the stares and smirks from everyone else meant it was going to be a long, long month.

------------------------

With the way his facial hair grew, he had to shave at least twice a week to maintain a satisfactory level of clean shaven-ness. Granny had let him keep the shaving cream they’d found at the bed & breakfast, even though she herself wasn’t sure how long it’d been there. At least it had a nice, clean scent, and seemed to take decent care of his skin, if the way Emma continued to caress his face each morning was anything to go by.

Although one day, a week or so later, she did narrow her gaze on him. “Have you been using my eye cream?” she asked.

“No; just the normal facial moisturizer,” he answered.

“Huh; must be something in that shaving cream, then, because your crows’ feet aren’t as deep.”

He shrugged; he knew there were plenty of ways of reducing the appearance of age in this realm with proper skin care, so it was to be assumed that once he started doing the same, it might have some affect. “I’m sure it’s only temporary, then, as you give me abundant reasons to smile every day.”

She just grinned and kissed him.

He did notice, though, that as time went on, his beard didn’t seem to fill in as much as it used to. It was mildly concerning, but he figured it just had to do with the fact that he was starting over from square one every time it began to regrow; once the month was up, it would return to its normal level of thickness.

A couple weeks in, he wondered if he might even be shaving too often, when red bumps began to appear on his chin; it reminded him of the zits he would get in his adolescence. God, he would probably blend in with the high schoolers, between the lack of beard and appearance of acne. At least he had his chest hair to rely on.

But—was it just him, or was that looking a little thin, too?

Perhaps he was just seeing things. Perhaps he was just tired, too—he found himself feeling rather...vigorous lately, which had led to some late nights with Emma. (Several.) Usually, she was the insatiable one, calling him “old man” and other teasing endearments, but for once, he had more stamina than her.

“You’re not taking Viagra or anything, are you?” she asked, breathless, one night.

“Taking what?”

“Never mind.” (Even if she didn’t have another round in her, she still couldn’t keep her hands from his chin. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.)

With the extra energy in his system, he started to spend more time on his ship, and even took up running. It was giving him a leanness he hadn’t had since he was a lanky lad, and did lead to some oddly timed naps, but mostly just left him hungry.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Emma asked after he polished off far more of a pizza than he normally did.

“Aye, love—perfectly fine,” he assured her, though her worry was causing the same in him. “Why?”

“I don’t know; it’s like...with your face looking so much younger, all of you seems to be a little younger.”

His brow furrowed at that—but at the same time, he knew it was fairly impossible.

Still, the idea lingered, as well as the sense that he’d somehow disappointed Emma. He found his mood changing on a dime during the last week of the terms of the bet, at times feeling depressed and lonely, and daring and joyous at others. It nearly gave him whiplash.

He sought once to calm his nerves in a glass of rum but, oddly, couldn’t stomach it like he used to.

It was while having a conversation with Emma and David at the station and his voice cracked that he finally realized something was amiss.

“God, you even sound like a pubescent teenager,” Dave teased, but Emma immediately became concerned.

“Okay, something weird is definitely going on,” she said, then came over to assess him. “Do you feel different anywhere? Did someone hit you with a spell or something?”

Suddenly feeling annoyed, he shrugged her off and stepped away. “Bloody hell, no! I don’t know what’s happening. I just know I’m emotional and have too much energy and it feels like everyone hates me and—”

He was cut off when Emma pulled him into a hug—quite possibly one of the best feeling hugs he’d ever had, and he immediately sank into it. “That better?”

“Aye,” he said into her shoulder.

“Sometimes, you just need a hug. It helps Henry.”

He rolled his eyes, but was glad she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, but you’re not my mum.”

“No; it still helps though.” She pulled away. “Can you stay here while I go check something? Make yourself a cocoa, okay?”

“Okay,” he muttered. She placed a peck on his cheek, gave her father an oddly angry look, then headed out.

“What was that about?” Dave wondered aloud.

Killian just shrugged. “I dunno. Want cocoa?”

“Sure.”

They shared a mug (Killian may have doubled up on cocoa packets in his) and were chilling on the couch when Emma returned, holding a vial. “What’s that?” he asked, standing, as she came in.

“Stand right there and don’t move,” she commanded. “Dad, come over by me.”

Both guys did as asked, and Emma popped the cork on the vial. Carefully, she put a tiny amount of the powder inside in her palm.

“Okay, brace yourself, Killian.”

“For what?” he complained, but it was too late: she’d blown the powder his way.

He winced when it hit him, then a tingling sensation took over his body, leaving him a bit sore—but somehow also feeling more normal than he had in weeks.

He blinked when the prickling feeling dissipated and looked back at his companions; Emma was smiling and David, for some reason, looked upset.

“Hey, it hasn’t been a full month yet!” he protested. Killian reached up to brush his hand along his jaw; his beard was back.

“What did you do, love?” he had to ask; he thought she liked him cleanshaven?

“I was right; you were literally aging backwards,” she said. “That shaving cream? Turns out it had some magic in it that turned back the clock. If you’d used it any more, you probably would have started to get shorter.”

“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “So I really was a teenager?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

David was looking very sheepish off to the side, especially when Emma leveled her gaze at him. “So thanks for putting my husband in high school, Dad.”

“Sorry!” he said quickly. “I had no idea; I just wanted to see what he’d look like.”

“Well, maybe next time, don’t put such a ridiculous time limit on your bets, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed, though the way he was curling in on himself let them know he was genuinely sorry.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have my way with the MAN I married—not the BOY,” she said pointedly, grabbing Killian’s hand and leading him from the station. They didn’t pause to see David’s reaction, but it was easy to imagine.

“I’d say that was fair punishment, Swan,” Killian quipped as Emma led them down the street toward their house.

“Oh, definitely,” she giggled. “But I wasn’t kidding. I need to have you when we’re both on the same level.”

“I think I can handle that.”

(He couldn’t. Apparently, aging nearly 20 years in one day was draining.)

The next morning, he shuffled down to the kitchen to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and the sight of Emma cooking. He sidled up behind her, like he usually did, and buried his scruffy chin in the crook of her shoulder, tickling her and making her laugh.

“Still feeling okay?” she asked as she flipped the pancakes on the griddle.

“Aye; back to my old self. A fact that I don’t think I’ll ever take for granted.”

“Good.” She moved the pancakes off the pan and onto the plate, then turned off the stove. She turned in his embrace and quickly placed her hands on his cheeks, scratching through his scruff. “Mm, I missed that,” she hummed.

“Yeah? You seemed to have a thing for a clean face, too,” he replied.

She shrugged. “It had its novelty, definitely, and it was kind of nice to see what you looked like before life happened.” He swallowed; he hadn’t thought of that. He’d definitely seen pictures of Emma as a youth, but obviously, there weren’t any of him. “But now you look like the man I fell in love with again, so please don’t let any stupid bet or spell change that, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, love, as long as you do the same.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Actually, might I propose something else?” he added.

“What’s that?”

“I’d quite like to see what it’s like to grow old with you.”

Emma grinned, crinkling the skin by her eyes and around her mouth. “I would love that.”

------------------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging some friends: @kat2609 @optomisticgirl @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot

#cs ff #my ff #cs crack fic #cs fluff #idek how to tag this

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agustdomain · 4 years ago

Text

A Slideshow of Road Lines {3}

Synopsis: They say oil and water don’t mix. What about oil paint and engines? He’s an artist reaching toward his dream while the girl with an engine heart is too busy trying to get her hands on the wheel. Is there a way for them to hold onto each other?

Word Count: 7k words

Pairing: Chris x Reader

Genre: college!au, artist!Chris, angst

Warnings: Language, Mentions of sickness (OC’s dad)

Author’s Note: You ready to meet Chris? (; He’s officially in the next part. Or is he? She won’t face him in the present for the while, but her past is filled with Chris. I’m really excited for you to get to know him!

! IMPORTANT NOTE ! This story is taking place in TWO DIFFERENT TIMES. When you see these flowers ❁, the story is shifting from present to past. There will also be a “Then” next to the day in order to further indicate that. If you have any questions, let me know!

> Part Two <

DAY 8

Every time she steps foot in this sacred oasis, guilt floods her vision. Every single time, the guilt’s almost enough to make her turn around and head back downstairs. Almost.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

She’s startled at the familiar voice, having not seen him when she first came up the steps. Once pinpointing where he’s crouched behind the bar, she takes her time as she trudges over. It’s been too long since the last time she’s been here. What, three or four months? It isn’t anyone’s fault but her own that she got herself in a predicament like this one.

It’s her fault she’s feeling guilty, and it’s her fault for having gotten attached to this rooftop that once held all the answers.

“Sorry, I’ve just been busy,” is her vague explanation. He isn’t the type to push.

Seungmin finally rises from behind the bar, box of tall wine glasses in his arms.

Placing them on the bar, he offers a sweet smile. Any other time, it may have eased her pain. Now, it slams her with unwanted memories.

“It’s all good- hey. You okay?”

She gives herself a moment. With each breath, she hopes to rein in her uneven breathing, for the tears and memories to subside, and for the memories she built here that are heavily stained with Chris to disappear.

“Everyone’s asking me that. To be honest, There’s not enough time to even pinpoint what’s wrong with me.” Yes, there is. It’s just one word. “So, instead. I’m going to sit at this bar. Hopefully, you don’t have any prior obligations. Maybe, just maybe you can make me your delicious ass Shirley Temple. And maybe I can just hear about how you’ve been.”

Seungmin studies her for a moment, continuing to wipe down the glasses one by one. Nodding in understanding, her shoulders sag, although she already knew he would agree. These past few months, in some twisted declaration of fate, she had forged a connection with the man whom Chris adored. In her memory, when Seungmin was just a foggy face in the background of some of her most intense moments with Chris, she never would’ve guessed he’d be her friend now. Life is funny that way.

At the sound of his throat clearing, her ease fades, aware he’s never been a pushover.

“I can get behind that. First, let me finish up all the closing procedures. While I’m putting these up, maybe you can grab a broom?”

A smile she isn’t expecting finds her lips. “That’s fair.”

“Your Shirley Temple will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

Rebel Corner has stood the test of time as one of the most beautiful places Y/N’s ever had the honor of witnessing with her own eyes. It’s a family-owned, "underground” rooftop restaurant. Not many know about it, mostly because it’s exclusive and important to the owners, and she had the honor of being one of the lucky few who was welcomed.

Even after all these years, it still drew her in like the scent of homemade cookies.

As she sweeps the wooden floors, her eyes do what they always do on their own accord. Trailing across the floor. Left, left, left, up. To the very table that sometimes finds its way in her dreams. If she listens hard enough, she can still hear Chris’ giddy laughter.

She forces herself to look away as the tightness in her chest returns.

When she finishes up, she slowly makes her way over to Seungmin. He’s in the midst of wiping down the bar counter, humming a tune underneath his breath.

An escape from her life, a confidant she never would have expected. After all, she already has enough mutual friends with Chris. Seungmin is another story.

Several months ago, her heartbreak had snuck up on her when she had least expected it. It was a night where she had entertained Minnie’s and Yeji’s terrible advice, agreeing to being set up on a date with a stranger.

She didn’t even remember the poor guy’s name anymore, barely even remembered what he had said to set her off. Maybe it was because she wasn’t ready, or how his eyes kind of resembled Chris’ beneath the restaurant light. Who was she kidding? No one could ever compare to the stardust in his irises.

One sentence had sent her running back to this place, her favorite spot prior to everything falling apart.

To be honest, she figured they wouldn’t let her up here. Seungmin had an impeccable memory, seeing the past her caved in on herself and allowing her roof access without so much as a glance.

Their friendship was unlikely, but it was born after many nights of her sorrowful solo dinners. He was a sweetheart in disguise, distracting her with trivial problems. He was a breath of fresh air from her otherwise stifling life.

“... And I told him, ‘Look. If you don’t start using your own bar of soap, you really aren’t going to like what I have planned for you’.”

Y/N bursts into ugly laughter, almost spilling her drink all over herself. “Are you serious? You know that sounds so wrong, right?”

Seungmin feigns nonchalance as he shrugs, throwing his rag across his shoulder as he declares, “That’s why you don’t fuck with me.”

The curse word sounds wrong on his lips, not suiting him at all. They share a look before settling on a mutual distaste for his tough guy act.

“What did you really tell him?”

Seungmin rubs the back of his neck shyly. “Well. I just started buying two soaps. He leaves mine alone now.”

“Seungmin! You can’t just let him take advantage of you like that.”

“What am I supposed to do? You know I hate confronting people!”

Y/N shakes her head, finishing off her Shirley Temple and slamming it down dramatically. “Do you want me to kick Felix’s ass?”

“No.”

“Come on. I have fighting experience!”

“Yelling at your phone screen when it freezes doesn’t count.”

“You’re insufferable,” She points a finger at him, making him giggle like a child. Silence finds them then, the kind she had been aching for since the moment her past came showing up at her door.

Tipping her cup back, she welcomes the rough ice cube stinging her tongue as she settles into her frigid thoughts. Now that she’s calm, she figures it’s time to face her demons.

She laughs at herself. If this is how she melted down when hearing he was back, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like when she came face to face with him.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?” Something about Seungmin’s tone quickly snatches her attention, her composure dissipating at the scared look frozen in his features. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

In slow motion, he looks up from his phone in his hands, swallowing heavily. “It’s… it’s Chris. He said he’s here.”

Oddly, a memory finds her then, one she hadn’t thought of in over two years. A memory of her and Chris running down the street late at night, hands clasped tight and road lines a blur, his dimpled smile brighter than the street lamps guiding their path. She can’t remember what they were doing that night, likely goofing off, she just recalls the bliss he brought her when life was too terrifying to face.

All she felt now was dread at the sound of his name- to the point of vomiting all of the cherry 7-up churning in her stomach.

“What do I do?” Her body moves into action, rushing to her feet and knocking the bar stool onto its side. The crash makes him wince, but he’s just as panicked as she is. “Where is he?”

“I-I don’t know. He’s probably on his way up the stairs-”

She never would have pictured the sound of a rooftop door opening being the sound to freeze her blood. The last sight she sees before dropping to the floor and crawling around the bar is Seungmin’s eyes wide with fear.

“Chris! W-wow! I almost can’t believe my eyes!” If she could, she’d kick Seungmin for his lack of acting skills.

“Is this a bad time?”

If she were an artist, this would be the point in the process where her hand slips and makes an irredeemable mistake across the canvas. She supposes that’s why Chris is the artist, not her. The sound of his voice is a dent in her plans, a deeper pothole in the road than she realized. No, not a pothole. A ditch. And her car is heading for it at 120 mph.

“No! That’s silly. What makes you think it’s a bad time? We’re closed, man! I’m the only one here! Don’t be ridiculous! I’m alone!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, nausea bubbles in her stomach and toward her throat. If Seungmin blows this- no, Chris couldn’t possibly know she’s here. She’s not ready. And how is she going to explain this to him if he sees her? He probably doesn’t even know her and Seungmin are friends.

“Okay,” Chris drags it out, sounding a distance away even though there are mere feet separating them. The tense atmosphere spills into the floor and snakes around her ankles as the boys greet each other normally, sounds of reunion and happiness filling the air. How is this possible? Y/N really went and dug the ditch herself. “How’ve you been, man?”

“I’ve been… well, the same. Rebel has been booming with the usual guests. Boss hired a new hostess though and she’s a pain in my ass.”

The second worst sound-the song of her lover’s laugh- fills the night air. The same night air that offered her answers moments ago now closed in on her. “I’ll never get over seeing you mad. It’s like watching a baby throw a tantrum. Precious.”

“I see you’re your usual chirpy self.”

“I try.” There’s a pause, one that makes Y/N start sweating. As if she hasn’t made too many, she makes another mistake. She can’t help herself. Chris is here in the flesh, and it’s been two and a half years since she was last near him. Before she knows it, she’s peeking around the corner of the bar.

Her heart nearly gives out at the sight of him looking in her direction, throwing herself back behind the bar. Her back’s painfully pressed into the wood behind her, praying silently and heart slamming. Pleading that he didn’t see her, she sighs in relief when he says, “Hey, Seung? Why is there a stool knocked over?”

“Oh. That.” Her eyes widen, sweat gathering all over her body. Clenching her teeth, she mentally spews out all of her anger at Seungmin. “Well, what do you think? You think I snuck a girl up here or something? That when you told me you were here, I told her to scram and she knocked that stool over in a rush?”

Silence.

Her heart’s beating so loud, Chris must hear it. Instead, his laughter plays like the piano chords it is. “You’re something else.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Chair scraping. Like a child and an electrical outlet, she can’t help tempting the danger as she peeks out again, promising herself it’s the last time. How stupid can she get? Seungmin’s blocking her vision, her heart yelling at him to move out the way and her brain telling her not to look. “I just wanted to drop by. I’ve missed you. And, well, I’ve been visiting all the people I haven’t seen. It’s been a minute. Too long of one”

“It really has. Are you back for good?”

“I am,” It’s a mistake, peeking to see him that second time. Once Seungmin moves, unveiling the man that took her heart hostage, she can’t submerge from the tsunami anymore. She’s lost at sea.

His hair’s the color of the marshmallow cake he made for her birthday once. Cut short on the sides, bangs framing his forehead. He used to complain about having bangs.

And she always used to tell him how effortless he made beauty look. He would only laugh it off, never one to dwell on appraisal.

His style hadn’t changed, a dark red dress shirt with a couple buttons undone off the top. The Venus chain necklace he had never taken off still hanging around his neck and glimmering beneath the rooftop’s fairy lights. Even from here, she can recognize that necklace anywhere.

Eyes welling with tears, she scoots back to her previous spot. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she claws at the knot around her heart, threatening her. In the span of his absence, she somehow managed to fool herself into believing she’s fine.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I imagine you’ll be dropping by to get your usual dinner one of these days.”

“Yeah…” A stifling pause, “Shame the food won’t be perfect anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Food only tastes perfect when the perfect person is with you to share it.”

Y/N slowly raises her head, a storm spilling on her cheeks, wondering if it muddled her hearing somehow. Did she hear him right?

“Ah. I see.” Ask him, Seungmin. Ask him what he means. Ask him about it.

Ask him anything.

“Sorry, man. I don’t mean to dump anything on you. I just got caught up for a moment. This place brings up a lot of buried memories, you know.” A clap, likely on a shoulder. “I’ll be going now. Have some other stops to make before I call it a night.”

“Alright. Don’t stay away too long. I need to hear all about what you’ve been up to. I remember how excited you were about the expedition.”

She doesn’t. All she remembers is the despair raw on his face, his pain on display like a true tortured artist.

“Definitely. I’ll catch you later.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Even after hearing the rooftop door slam closed, she doesn’t move. It’s almost unreal, being so close to him with the distance of two years between. She wonders what it would be like if they had somehow made it work all this time. Would she have been the one to pick him up from the airport? She would have been the one to plan the party for him that she’d missed yesterday.

She needs to move on.

Chris Bang is her past, and even if he chooses to reappear in her present, there’s no future for them.

“Hey.”

She looks up, Seungmin kneeling in front of her with a hand outstretched. It’s a humiliating moment when she realizes she’s been lying to herself all this time. Now’s the time for her lovely friend logic to return home, gone for so long she barely remembers its voice. It’s a shame, because without logic, all of the improvements she’s made in the last couple of years go out the window.

Without logic, how will she protect her heart?

With a watery smile, she ignores the look of sympathy on his face as she shakily grabs his hand. She answers the question in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

~~~~

Closing the front door chases off the small ounce of energy left. Sighing heavily, she stays facing the door for a moment. She had spent most of the ride with Seungmin in silence, thankful for his offer and taking it in her vulnerable state of mind. Just like Chuu, he always knows when not to prod, unbothered by her distance and silence.

Hearing a bag zip up, her gaze trails to the living room where Chuu’s in the middle of shouldering her backpack. Without acknowledging Y/N, she moves to walk past her and to the stairs. Odd, even for Chuu.

“Hey,” Slides from Y/N’s mouth awkwardly, confused.

Startled at the greeting, Chuu looks at her wide-eyed before blurting, “I forgot I have to call my mom! I’m headed up to my room.”

“O-kay,” Y/N mutters, eyes following her as she rushes up the stairs. Before dwelling on it any further, Minnie comes down the stairs past Chuu, her gaze clouded and filled with warning.

“Is Chuu okay?” Y/N treads carefully, walking over to the couch and throwing herself across it, all of her efforts in trying not to think about Chris. Trying to block his voice out, his face, him. She’s completely drained.

“She’s fine,” Minnie’s voice is clipped, cold. Y/N doesn’t bother to figure out what she’s upset about this time. She’s surprised when Minnie hovers over her from the back of the couch, cup in hand and eyes staring down at her.

“What?” Y/N says, utterly defeated.

“Are you okay?”

“It seems like that’s everyone's favorite question these days.”

Minnie keeps on staring at her. Taking a sip of her drink, she takes her time before speaking again. “Yeji told me about Chris. Makes a lot more sense now why you got wasted and embarrassed me last weekend. I’m sorry I… haven’t been around to be there for you.”

Y/N doesn’t know what to say. Truth be told, she wouldn’t have expected this type of response from her. Ever. “It’s… fine.”

“I mean it,” Minnie walks around the couch and takes a seat near Y/N’s head. She stares at her roommate at an awkward upside-down angle, noticing her voice is uncharacteristically soft.“I haven’t really been myself. I never thought I would be one of those girls that changes when she’s in a relationship. It’s no excuse, but ever since I met Hongseok, he’s all that fills my mind.”

Sitting up, Y/N’s hand gently squeezes Minnie’s shoulder. “You haven’t done anything wrong. That’s normal. You’re in love.”

“Yeji would disagree with that. She always has something to say.” Sometimes Y/N wonders how the two of them haven’t killed each other.

“You know her. It’s not hard to make her shit list.”

“True,” Minnie stares forward, sipping from her cup every few moments. The longer Y/N sits with her, she realizes how nice it is to be around someone who’s unafraid to be themselves. Minnie can be overbearing more often than not, but on the flip side she’s as honest as they come. She doesn’t tiptoe around Y/N or make her feel like she’s a ticking time bomb.

“It’s just been a lot to process. I feel like since I’m on the go with school and work, with all of these things on my mind, I can’t even begin to process that he’s back. It’s hard to describe. The last time I saw him was… well, it’s stained in my head like a bad tattoo. And I thought the wound had healed. I’m such an idiot. I thought I’d react well if I ever saw him again. That’s… definitely not the case,” Strangled laughter bubbles past her lips.

Minnie peers at her for a couple seconds before lying her head on the back of the sofa. “I’ve never been in your shoes before. I’ve never dated anyone like you have, never had a bond like the one you had with him. I mean, it’s so rare these days for there to be guys like Chris…” Quickly, she continues, “I don’t mean to make it worse. I’m just bringing it all up because why are you being so hard on yourself? Everyone moves on at different paces. Even if you moved on, it doesn’t make it any easier when you see someone you loved for the first time in a long time. You’re human, Y/N. He used to be the guy that had power over your heart. It’s not something you can just bury.”

“I just wish… I don’t know.” Y/N hates that she feels the urge to cry again.

“You’re not going to figure everything out in one night. Go easy on yourself. Just promise me that.”

Easier said than done. Regardless, she knows Minnie’s intentions are pure. “Okay.”

Minnie stands up, hand finding Y/N’s thigh and squeezing comfortingly before rising to her feet. She takes her time heading for the stairs, pausing at the bottom before looking over her shoulder. “It’s not your fault that he left.”

Those words haunt Y/N long after their conversation, repeating in her head like a jammed radio.

As she lay in bed that night, a blanket protecting her from the smiles of her ghosts, Minnie’s words replay.

She understands the sentiment, even recognizes the sincerity.

Only problem is, she doesn’t agree at all.

After all, it’s her fault everything fell apart. If it wasn’t for her, she and Chris would still be together.

That’s what’s poking at her, why it’s so hard to imagine facing him. How can she face him when she can’t even face herself? How can she confront the reality that she’s the reason he’s left with a scar, one she imagines have darkened his hands and his paintings?

His muse? Please. She must be his worst nightmare.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Day 10, Then

The pop music flowing from different stores contrasted with the gloomy weather overhead. Glancing up at the rumbling clouds in dismay, she found herself wondering why anyone in their right mind thought it was a good idea to build an outdoor mall.

Looking around at the passersby, it would seem like they didn’t care if it was moments from raining. Bundles of teenagers gathered, filming videos on their phone and talking way too loud. Older couples were the only ones rushing for cover, complaints falling in the space between her and them as they rushed past.

The longer she spent wandering aimlessly, the more close she was to giving up. Yes, her dad insisted on her going out and spoiling herself. The thought only filled her with guilt. Even when he was far from being healthy, he still wanted to take care of her. He worried about her, when he should’ve only worried about getting better.

At the thought of her dad, weights built up and suffocated her chest. She couldn’t do this, not now. Sighing heavily, she turned on her heel and headed back the way she came. If she rushed, she could make the next bus back to campus.

Right as the edge of the mall came into view, a large neon sign snagged her attention, pausing in her footsteps.

Painters. A soft neon pink sign, more inviting than any other sign she’d seen so far. Its soft letters reminded her of pink lemonade. Unlike the name, it appeared to be a shoe store rather than an art supplies store, which is what she expected.

Shaking her head, the rain began its gentle dance on the concrete around her. Not long after, gentle kisses found her exposed skin. Y/N moved to walk past the store, but her legs came to a stop without much thought. Glancing at the bright array of shoes in the window, she realized that maybe she might find something in there she’d like. That, and it would make her dad insanely happy when she called home tonight, telling him she already bought something for herself.

Stepping in, she recognized the sad serenade of a Post Malone song playing overhead. The shoe shop was smaller than the more popular brand stores, colorful paper maché lights hanging low from the ceiling. The longer she studied the shop, the more she appreciated it for its individuality. Even the shoes weren’t all the same, offering varieties and brands she never even heard of.

When she first entered, the first thing to catch any customer’s eye was the big chalkboard in unnecessarily bold letters that read FIRST COME FIRST SERVE FOR EACH PAIR. ONE SIZE ONLY PER PAIR.

“That makes things more difficult,” Y/N uttered to herself.

Wandering down the nearest aisle, an uncontrollable smile tugged her lips at the kids section. Reading the sign above the shelf, her heart tugged in fondness at the realization of just how different Painters was.

Children designed the collection of kids shoes before being placed out in the store to be sold. More intrigued, she turned the corner and stumbled upon the next section titled Kollege Kids. Their designs were more professional but had just as much character. Personally, she preferred the kids’ designs.

She scoffed in disbelief. Prior to this moment, she had no idea stores like this even existed. Her eyes trailed to the top right corner of the shelves in front of her. A pair of high top converse, all white save for the drawings of the milky way galaxy in blue and orange ink.

Taking them off the shelf, she was launched back into her conversation with her dad a couple nights ago, a younger version of her racing down the road holding her daddy’s hand wearing her favorite orange and blue sneakers.

Staring down at the sneakers, she realized how important it was for her to get them now, the uncanny nostalgia from them pressuring her into the purchase. Just then, she was reminded of the obnoxious sign at the front of the shop about how each pair had one size only.

Closing her eyes, she willed the sneakers to be her size before pushing the tongue back to see. Deflating, all hopes of having these special shoes washed away as she slammed them back down on their designated spot.

“I understand the frustration.”

She turned then, eyes finding the guy who was staring at her from the end of the aisle. Her eyes washed over him quickly, eyebrows rising in curiosity at his button up pushed to the forearms and an art apron tied loosely around his hips. She connected the dots a beat too late that he was an employee.

Noticing her confusion, he smiled slightly as he grasped the apron with two fingers. “This? Yeah, it’s an… interesting choice of uniform. My boss is an eccentric gal. It fits the theme, don’t you think?”

Y/N nodded, unsure of what to say. Turning back to face the shoes, all sense of desire to buy anything was completely gone. Those sneakers were it, and since they weren’t her size, there was no use. The eccentricity of the store was fresh and amazing until a person realizes the shoes they love don’t come in their size.

The employee stepped closer, putting up a pair of sneakers near her. Stepping aside a bit, she found her eyes found his again as he continued to observe her. What was this guy’s deal?

“I was just looking around. I’m not going to buy anything,” Y/N decided on, hoping it was enough to get him to leave her alone. It wasn’t.

“Really?” He sounded unconvinced. Nodding at her- well, the pair of shoes- he crossed his arms as if he were all-knowing. “Seems like your heart was pretty set on those. I can see why. They’re pretty kick-ass. I’m assuming they weren’t your size?”

“Yeah, they weren’t,” She said wistfully, ready to go back to her dorm and never come to this shop again.

“Hate when that happens.”

Turning to him, ready to snap, her mouth shut on its own as her eyes found his face. There were no ill intentions behind his gaze, only empathy. Her eyes wandered on their own, his dark hair short and neat but his eyes suggesting a more wild existence. Even the way he wore his uniform suggested he was barely following the rules.

Her eyes trailed to his shoes, dark maroon boots with doodles drawn on it with- was that brown sharpie? Feeling his eyes on her, they quickly jumped back to his face. Dimples appeared and softened his presence even further, catching her in the act.

Mouth parting, trying to justify what probably looked like she was checking him out, she didn’t need to say anything as he headed back the way he came.

“There’s plenty of magnificent shoes in here. I hope you find another pair that makes you feel the way those did,” He called over his shoulder. Stopping at the end of the aisle, he turned back and gave her a look she didn’t quite understand. “It might be hard, but some shoes just aren’t the right fit. And it’s because the ones that are will own your heart more than you realize.”

Her heart was racing after he disappeared from view and she couldn’t figure out the cause. Was it the guy? No it couldn’t have been. Was it the shoes? Definitely not. His words… how could someone be so wise when they were just talking about shoes?

Afraid to be seen by him again, she peeked from behind the aisle she was in, and once the coast was clear she made a beeline for the door. Just as her hand pushed open the door, she felt the strong urge to look back. So she did.

The guy from before was in the middle of placing another pair of shoes on a nearby rack, arm outstretched above his head. Instead of his attention on the task at hand, his eyes were watching her as she left.

Heart jumping, she caught the edge of his smile before she rushed out the store.

Day 14

Another day, another night of drowning in assignments.There were points where thoughts of her dad crept in, but she buried it as the stress of her work washed over. Sometimes, she craved a break.

She didn’t have the time for that.

The break would be possible if she didn’t have a job interview in two hours with the bakery down the street. Gogo’s was its name, and she had been looking for a part-time position that had flexible hours and leniency. Since it was nearby, she hoped she was set for the school year. To keep herself from panicking, she put all of her energy into trying to finish some homework beforehand.

For once, she was grateful for the distraction when Yeji called her. As she typed away at her laptop, she put her on speaker.

“Y/N! Come out with us!”

“I can’t today. Sorry.”

“Hold on.” There was the usual sound of crinkling and she shook her head, knowing what was coming. Like clockwork, there was Hyunjin’s signature confused sounds before he greeted her.

“Hey.”

“Sorry, the answer’s still no.”

“Why, though? It’s been ages since we hung out.”

“I feel like I experience déjà vu whenever I talk to you these days. College has made you two really clingy,” She held back a smile at Hyunjin’s sound of disbelief.

“And college has made you really crabby and mean!”

“I’m flattered,” Y/N said, coming off a lot more colder than she intended. She hoped he understood. Being an engineering major was kicking her ass. The silence made her feel guilty, so she added, “I probably would but I have a job interview in a bit.”

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you just say that?”

“Because if I told Yeji that, she’d want me to skip it. You know her tendency to think everything’s a game.”

“True.”

The two of them chatted for a few more minutes before she hung up, signalling it was time for her to get ready. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves as she attempted to mentally prepare herself for the interview, heading for the shower.

When she got out, Chuu was on her own bed scrolling through her phone. Every now and then, she would glance over at Y/N as she shuffled back and forth throughout the room.

“You seem nervous,” Chuu quietly noted.

“I am. But things will be okay. Whatever happens, happens.”

“Right.” As Y/N did a onceover of her hair, Chuu came up behind her in the mirror. Her head tilted up, nodding firmly at her.

“You got this.”

Somehow, in the short time she had gotten to know the girl, she had the uncanny ability of making things feel okay- even if for a moment. With one gesture, with brief exchanges- Chuu’s strength filtered through her veins.

“Thank you.”

~~~~

By the time Y/N made it back to her dorm, Chuu was nowhere to be found. Knowing her, she was probably holed up in the nearby library- she was the type that couldn’t get work done anywhere else.

She weighed her options, knowing she should probably work on her homework. For once, she allowed herself some time to relax. Changing into her favorite pajamas, she grabbed her keys and left her dorm, heading for the convenience store downstairs. It really was handy to live on campus.

After she grabbed her favorite Jalapeño chips and an orange juice, she got in line. Her thoughts wandered, not really paying attention to her surroundings. That was, until she heard two very familiar voices. Before she could even look for the source, an arm wrapped around her shoulders as Hyunjin’s citrus lip balm filled her nose.

“I thought that was you.”

“Hey, Honey,” she said, pushing him off of her. Looking dejected, his attention was snatched by something nearby, disappearing as quick as he came. Yeji sidled up next to her in line, shooting a dirty look to the person behind Y/N. As if the person waiting in line was the one in the wrong.

“How was your interview?” She asked, smacking the gum in her mouth.

“It was good,” It really was. Y/N didn’t want to jinx it, but she was confident she got the job.

“You probably got it. It’s you,” Yeji sighed, stretching her arms out. Little comments like that always reminded Y/N that as loud and aggressive she could be, Yeji tried her hardest to show her affection in other ways.

“Thanks,” Y/N coughed out, reaching the front of the line. As she paid, Yeji filled her in on her night. At first, she wasn’t paying too much attention to her words, expecting her to complain about Jisung again. When she realized that wasn’t her friend’s topic of choice at all, she tuned in.

“...And I’m actually surprised. I really did have fun. I think I won’t mind if I have to spend time around Jisung, after all.”

“Glad you had fun,” Y/N deadpanned, leading the way out of the line and trailing over to Hyunjin. He was at the dessert aisle and having trouble deciding between a Twinkie and an Oatmeal Cookie.

“You weren’t listening, were you?” Yeji accused.

“I was!” She responded, but Yeji didn’t believe her.

“It’s kinda weird, though. I thought Jinnie here was being dramatic when he said Chris makes everything better. The guy actually does.”

Y/N nodded her head at her words, wondering what Chris could’ve possibly done to get in Yeji’s good graces. It was hard to please her.

Hyunjin grabbed both desserts in one hand before turning to Y/N and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Bummer you couldn’t meet him tonight.”

“Come on, he can’t be that great. You’re hyping him up like he’s Tom Holland or something.”

“Okay, don’t take it that far,” Yeji gasped.

Hyunjin shook his head at her before hitting them both with, “Well, I-” slamming down the sweets in front of the clerk- “think he’s better than Spidey boy.”

Yeji blew a breath out. “I’ll admit he’s cool but no one tops Tom.”

“Not even Tobey? Give me a break.”

“I’ll break your arm and we’ll call it a day.”

The clerk watched the two, wide-eyed, and Y/N could only pretend she wasn’t their friend as she headed for the door. As they all headed for her dorm, she listened to them continue to rave about this guy. It was almost ridiculous how much they idolized him.

There couldn’t be anyone better than Hyunjin, at least in her book. Though she didn’t like him like that, her best friend had set the bar high for her in how she expected good guys to be. Hyunjin was kind, selfless, and did the best he could to make anyone feel like they belonged. He was the lantern that everyone was drawn to in the dark.

So, yeah, maybe this Chris guy was cool. But to Y/N? It seemed like they were just buzzed about getting along with someone new.

“...You’ll like him, Y/N. I know you will,” Hyunjin gave a firm nod, stuffing his entire cookie in his mouth, “Swell guy,” he added, crumbs flying out and toward the girls. Yeji shrieked, hands reaching out and slapping him hard on his arm.

Y/N scolded him, but not before she laughed at his puppy dog face, hands up to block Yeji’s hits as he still continued to mumble with a full mouth. She laughed, “You’re so gross.”

“And so are you! Don’t forget I have dirt on you,” He pointed at Y/N before moving over to Yeji, “And you, too.”

“Whatever,” She sighed, leading the way off of the elevator. She wasn’t surprised at all when they followed her. “Anyways, I’ll meet him next time.”

As she unlocked the door, Yeji leaned in and tried to be quiet as she whispered, “He’s so fine, Y/N. He’s going to be the man of your dreams, watch. I’m going to be dreaming of him tonight.”

Hyunjin choked on his twinkie, shoving Yeji right into the doorway. As she yelped, he shouted, “Ew! You’re so thirsty! Go find someone else to fantasize about. You’re not allowed to like my friends.”

“Why not? You gotta admit he’s hot!”

“And? You’re my cousin. I’m trying to save him from your crazy ass.”

“You’re such a brat. I don’t even want him like that. But finally you have a fine ass friend. Thought having a family member my age meant more hot friends. Guess not.”

“Both of you relax. Didn’t expect a guy to come between the two of you,” Y/N grinned at her own joke as the two of them proceeded to aim their fire at her. After a while, the fire went out on its own as they lounged lazily on her small bed, chatting about random things that came to mind.

Even though they drove Y/N crazy sometimes, she knew that without them, her life would’ve taken a completely different path otherwise.

“Hey, I forgot to mention! Not sure if you remember, but we made plans with the guys on Saturday to go to Kev’s. It’s for Chris’ birthday. I really want you there,” Hyunjin announced out of the blue, Y/N’s eyes leaving her computer.

Kev’s was an entertainment place that had blown up over the past couple of years. It was a mix of an arcade, sports bar and bowling alley- talk about indecisive. She had only been there once back in high school for a birthday party.

Tilting her head back and forth in thought, she eventually nodded. “I think I can make it. I don’t have much due this weekend, surprisingly.”

“Nice! Okay, I’ll ask CB if he can scoop you up.”

“Why can’t you pick me up?” She asked, not liking the sound of riding with a guy she barely met.

Hyunjin avoided eye contact, which led to Yeji answering for him.

“He’s picking up his new girlfriend, that’s why. He’s ditching us and handing us over to his weird friend,” Yeji blurted, before gasping and exclaiming, “I need to think of what to wear.”

“Wait, you have a new girlfriend?” Y/N asked, spinning in her desk chair to face him.

Hyunjin gave his cousin a look before he sighed and said, “No, I don’t. Not yet, at least. I’m just seeing where things go.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well-” Hyunjin looked ashamed- “I don’t know if it’s anything serious yet. I just want to test the waters, you know. And I didn’t tell Yeji, she’s just nosy and happened to overhear me talking to Jisung about it.”

Y/N nodded in understanding, turning back to her desk. It was weird, not because Hyunjin didn’t date, but because it was unlike him to not tell her these things. For the sake of her homework, she decided to let it go.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” Yeji yawned, “But maybe I’ll see you before Saturday.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll head out too,” Hyunjin added, and Y/N rose to her feet to walk them to the door.

As they said their goodbyes, Hyunjin lingered as Yeji slowly walked down the hall without noticing. Just as Y/N was about to close the door, Hyunjin caught it.

“What’s up?” Her voice came out slow, noting his nervousness.

Licking his lips, he took a deep breath as he searched her face. “I really am sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t like I was hiding it from you I just… yeah, we’ve all had things to do and I just didn’t want to stress you out. You know, with all your schoolwork and… and your dad.”

Up until his last words, Y/N was pretty understanding. At the mention of her dad, she shut down. Hyunjin noticed, too, trying to backtrack.

“W-what I meant by that is-”

“It’s fine, Hyunjin. I’m not even sweating it,” She said, and even to herself she sounded cold.

“Wait, that was insensitive of me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. I just didn’t want to put anything else on your plate.”

“Telling me about a girl you like is something to add on my plate?”

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, before saying, “Yeah.” Even he must’ve known how ridiculous that sounded.

Wanting to be irritated, she realized he was only being considerate of her feelings, right? Even if this was the first time he had kept something from her, it wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t possibly mean anything else. So, she decided to truly let it go.

“Don’t worry, Honey. It’s all good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

23 notes · View notes

cursed-ice-spirits · 5 years ago

Text

Assassins Don’t Cry

In this universe, Rebecca is still a loner, still an outcast, still the girl who pushed Merula in her first day at Hogwarts. Her brother is dead from trying to find her curse and her parents are split up, and she’s still sent to the Caldwells, who are still assassins who use demons to kill. But one thing changed. The actions of her mother’s family are released to the world on the day she escapes from them, every kill her mother has made is listed on the Daily Prophet and there are rumors that Rebecca killed a man herself. Some are sympathetic, including the Son of the Boy-Who-Lived (aka Ollie Potter @ryollie), others... not so much.

Rebecca didn’t like Ollie Potter at first. It was not of the boy’s fault but after all the whispers of the ‘Chosen One’s Son,’ she grew annoyed at the slightest mention of him. She never liked gossip or nonsense like that so it certainly didn’t help that much.

So it came as a surprise that she found herself growing close to Penny Haywood, famous for being the most popular girl who drinks in gossip.

Who knew Pretty Penny Haywood would be friends with Rebecca Lord, the loner artist who adores dwelling in Charms? Which is how Rebecca finds herself being pulled out of the library to be introduced to Penny’s new boyfriend.

“Penny,” she groaned, looking longingly at the library. “Do I have to meet your boyfriend?” She asks and wrinkles her nose at the thought. Third-Years and her peers around her are already dating around. Frankly she doesn’t understand the fuss but whatever makes Penny happy.

Penny looked back at her, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I told you, you need to talk to people other than me. I thought introducing you to my boyfriend is a good start.”

“What and shoving me to Talbott wasn’t enough?”

“He’s a loner like you! He doesn’t count.”

Rebecca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Wow, Haywood. How rude.”

Penny only ignored her and merely tugged her to the direction of a young boy with white fluffy hair. “Ollie is one of the sweetest people I know, so I hope he’s a good start to being social and having friends, Merlin knows you need them—“

Rebecca rolled her eyes and tuned her out, and watched as she lifted a hand to cup it over her mouth, calling “Ollie!!” at the top of her lungs, and noted that the boy looked oddly familiar-

Wait a minute, Rebecca thought, realization dawning on her as the boy turned around, finding herself meeting bright green eyes with her own hazel eyes. Oh, motherfucker-

Ollie Potter stood before her, green eyes glimmering curiosity as they flickered from Penny to her. Of course, Penny Haywood would date Ollie bloody Potter, Rebecca screams internally. Pretty popular Penny Haywood with her pretty long hair and sparkling eyes WOULD date Ollie Potter who has a snake and puffskein for pets and emeralds as eyes, what the fuck-

“Ollie,” Penny said happily, pushing her in front of her. “This is Rebecca. A friend of mine. Rebecca this is Ollie.”

Rebecca fought the urge to hide behind the blonde. “Hi,” she said, eyeing him warily. Is he arrogant? Is he kind? She never knows with the rumors.

Ollie flashes her a smile, although his eyes shone with cautiousness. Rebecca approves. “Hi,” he greets back.

It never really went farther than that. Rebecca never voluntarily approached him and they never exchanged a word other than a passing “hello” unless Penny decided to drag her into a conversation, which Rebecca doesn’t really fancy as she ends up being a third wheel anyway. One thing that came out of it was Rebecca’s opinion of him going down to merely “he’s okay” but never more than that. When they did truly talk, it was ironically after their breakup.

Lazily floating through the air, Rebecca held on to her broom with one hand and leaned to the right, a frown flickering on her face when she noticed someone sitting on the fountain lid, someone with white fluffy hair.

She knew only one person with white fluffy hair. Remembering what Penny told her (and did, she thought with a flush) she urged her broom down, hair blowing past her shoulders as she flew closer to the Slytherin.

“Potter,” she spoke up, hovering above his head. She watched him jump and look up, her lips curling into a smile as she watched his expression shift. “A knut for your thoughts?”

“Um…” Emerald eyes flickered away nervously, then back at her and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not going to bite, y’know,” she said, drifting closer to the ground and hopping off. She carefully placed her broom down and sat next to him, glancing over to him. “Penny told me some stuff and I decided to drop by.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes drifting to his lap. “How much did she told you?”

“Only that you two broke up,” she told him, yanking her shoes and socks off and setting them on the ground beside her broom. She dipped her feet in the water and stared as the water curled around them, feeling none of the coolness as she turned a frown to him, “What’s up with that anyway?”

With those words, he spilled. He talked about Talbott and his apparent fling with him, how he obliviated him of his memories with him and how he only recently regained them. Her frown only deepened as he continued on to explain his confrontation with Talbott, which lead to the breakup. Thinking back, Rebecca thought it was strange that he’ll spill his guts out to someone he only knew through Penny but considering she is close to her, it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he told her because of that.

“And I’m assuming you’re sitting here thinking about your feelings for both of them,” she said once he stopped to catch his breath. She pretended not to notice the tears on his cheeks, merely passing him a tissue.

Ollie rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah I… I don’t know whether or not my feelings for Penny are actually genuine, or if it’s because of the memory wipe,” he said softly. “I’m scared that I was using her this whole-”

She splashed water at him with her foot, not flinching when he recoiled, turning wide eyes at her. “Oi oi, stop that,” she said, folding her arms. “Penny doesn’t blame you for this mess. How do you even feel during your relationship with her?”

Ollie opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. “Strange...” Ollie furrowed his brows and drew his legs to his chest. “Like… Like something’s missing.”

“Elaborate.” Rebecca moved her feet back and forth, watching the water swish around her feet.

“It only grew stronger as I dated her,” he continued. “Sometimes during a date, I’d reach out to touch her face and then get a weird flashback of doing the same to someone else, someone I now remember as Talbott,” he mused softly.

Rebecca held her temple. “Oh dear, this is a mess.” She held up a finger. “I’m going to be very very harsh here, but it’s realistic and I don’t like sugarcoating things.” She looked at him in the eye. “Either way, both of them are going to be hurt. Talbott is going to be hurt and even if you say that you don’t care, he’s still someone you loved in the past and before that, a dear friend. Penny’s going to be hurt too. Whatever if it’s you choosing Talbott or the feelings you had for her really is because of the memory wipe.”

Ollie flinched violently and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to hurt her,” he murmured. “She’s a nice girl — I was happy with her, really.”

“She’ll move on. Both of them,” Rebecca said, feeling pity. The poor guy, stuck in such a horrible mess. “Heartbreak is hard.” She closes her eyes, remembering the deep ache that she can’t place a finger on what it means months before. “The only thing we can do is move on.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes flickering to her. “You would know how that feels, right? You liked her.”

Rebecca’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t like her that way,” she denied. “Did I…?” She trailed off, thinking about her times with Penny. The pain in her chest whenever she saw her with Ollie, the butterflies in her stomach when she smiled at her… “Oh Merlin, I did.”

Ollie gave her a little smirk and despite the fact that it was at her own expense, it makes her pleased to see it. “I noticed you always have this pained look in your eyes around us and sorta pieced it together,” he admitted. “Your eyes will always linger on her. She makes you happy, right? I know you make her happy too.”

“I’m not going to be a rebound for her,” Rebecca said quietly. She bit her lip and thought about her curse, trying not to think about her inevitable death. Not wanting to turn the water to ice, Rebecca drew her legs to her chest. “And it wouldn’t work out. I don’t have feelings for her anymore. I moved on and I don’t want to force myself to like her again.”

“Well, Penny was a rebound for me in a way.”

“Potter!”

“In a way! I…” he trailed off and frowned at her. After staring for a few minutes, he pushed, “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you moved on? You really don’t like her anymore?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Rebecca folded her arms defensively across her chest. “What are you going with this, Potter?”

Ollie cocked his head to the side, still frowning. “You don’t look like you’ve moved on. You sound unsure, less certain.”

Rebecca opened her mouth, then closed it as she thought about her feelings toward Penny. “I don’t really know, but I’m not in a rush to figure it out. I’ll know eventually.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should do the same. Take a break from romance. Think about your feelings. Love is complicated and this whole situation is messy, so maybe time will help you think.”

Ollie averted his eyes. “Maybe. I don’t know, I’m just confused on how I feel. About both of them.”

“Love is complicated,” Rebecca repeated. “Love sucks and burns you from the inside and leaves you wanting more. Yeah it’s beautiful and it keeps you going, but it also hurts you. It takes time to figure it out and it’s exactly what you need right now.”

“I… guess,” Ollie said, closing his eyes. He gave her a small smile and Rebecca immediately pushed away the feeling of awe raising inside of her. “Thanks, Rebecca.”

She patted his shoulder and pulled away, lifting her feet out of the water to pick up her broom. “Not a problem.”

—————

4th Year was off to a great start. After the horrible summer she had, she’s been getting flashbacks upon flashbacks and it certainly doesn’t help with all the negative spotlight on her. She’s learned to never walk alone unless she wanted to be tripped and it’s fairly easy, finding herself walking with Andre or Penny to classes

But she can’t be so lucky continuously, because Andre and Penny don’t share some of her classes. They can’t stick with her 24/7. So it’s really no wonder she finds her foot getting snagged against something and proceeding to tumble to the ground hard.

In the corner of her eye, she notices someone moving toward her, only to be pushed away by a wall of people that circled around her. She appreciates the effort though, even as a foot slams into her side.

“Seriously?!” Samuel Lockwood laughed as he looked down at her, smirking. He was the one who tripped her. She knew this for sure. He kicked at her again. “You’re still here?”

“Stop crying for attention,” Someone— she can't tell who it is, but it was familiar for sure — sneered, aiming a kick at her. “We know you’re not the victim here.”

“Murderer.” Kick.

“Why would Dumbledore let someone like you be in school?” Kick.

“No mommy to protect you here.” Belinda Murray sneered. Kick.

“You’re no better than a death eater.” Kick.

“Hey—“

“Nobody wants a murderer here.” Kick.

“Get out while you can. It’s better for all of us.” Kick.

“Egwu and Haywood really lowered their standards for you huh?” Kick.

A long time ago, she would have fought back with everything she got using her teeth and nails, but she’s not that person anymore. Her time with the Caldwells taught her fighting back will only make it worse and that lesson won’t be unlearned anytime soon. Rebecca felt herself going slack, letting blow after blow rain down on her. Just let it happen and it’ll be over soon…

“Hey!”

Slowly, the kicks stopped. Confusion swept over her, and she lifted her head just in time to see Ollie driving his fist into Lockwood’s gut, a furious expression etched on his face. Rebecca winced as Ollie grasped Lockwood’s collar, swinging back and punching him in the face and covered her eyes, peeking from under her fingers and staring in disbelief at the scene she’s witnessing, because it’s the first time someone other than Andre or Penny defended her.

“Ollie?”

Ollie glanced at her and dropped Lockwood like a rag doll. In seconds, he moved to her side, smiling gently despite the fact that he just beat up one of her main bullies. “Hey,” he said, stretching out a hand to her and letting her take it, before wrapping his hands around her arms and pulling her to her feet. “Let’s go. We need to get you to the Hospital Wing,” he said, then shot everyone around them a glare, “and away from these scum.”

Averting her eyes, Rebecca refuses to look at him, opting to instead lean her weight against his shoulder. Not that it was hard. She felt a hand taking her arm and wrapping it around his shoulders, and she has to force herself not to recoil away.

There’s this sort of… ringing in her ears that drowns out the whispers that rose as Ollie tugged her pass the crowd. She doesn’t need to hear the whispers to know that they’re talking about her, not even with Ollie’s frequent glares aimed at the crowd around her. Too busy trying to put one foot over the other, she doesn't realize where she’s going until her foot hits something hard.

Stopping in her tracks, her eyes slowly moved down, going first to her bag, ripped up with one of the straps cut cleanly off, then to her ink-soaked textbooks laying haphazardly on the ground, and finally, her sketchbook ripped and shredded beyond recognition.

Ba-thump. She can’t seem to move. Everything in there, her dreams and passions and the love poured into its pages ruined and gone.

Ba-thump. And then Ollie is standing in front of her, holding her shoulders gently in his hands as he calls out her name, his brow furrowed with concern, concern that only grows when she doesn’t respond.

Ba-thump. She can’t fucking b r e athe

They must have stolen it from her while she was being beaten and ripped it up. Lockwood’s work, she can see his h an dwr i ting, etching slurs and insults on the remains of the pages.

The archer tugs back the string, releasing the arrow, and her world comes crashing down, and a single tear rolls down her cheek

“Caldwells don’t cry.”

She doesn’t need to look up to know it's her grandfather and her shoulders raise in panic, trying desperately to suck in air and failing and failing and failing. Phantom hands are wrapping around her arms and throat and squeezing tightly and she can’t breathe. Get off get off get off get off-

STOOOOOPPPPP.

A wave of calmness suddenly washed over her. It sends shivers of warmth down her arms, her legs, her torso, splashing over her like a warm hug. It’s soft, kind, and it makes her relax… and she hates it. She has never been fond of things in her mind and if it can force her to calm down like this, it gives her a reason to hate it even more. She had struggled against it, panic rising at the foreign presence in her mind even as a voice drifted in her mind, drowning out her grandfather’s voice. But the more she struggled, the stronger the calmness grew, and eventually, her vision clears and she finds herself stumped on the ground. Through blurry vision, she can see Ollie sitting at a respectful distance, talking gently.

“Can you hear me now? Nod once if you do. Good good, slow your breathing. You’re still gasping for air. Breathe in to 4. Breathe out to 4. 4 in. 4 out. That’s it.”

Slowly, she started getting back to reality. The calmness is still there and she hates it, she doesn’t know what it is but it manages to keep her calm and she wants it out of her head if it can control it. She doesn’t know what it is, but it’s coming from Ollie and she doesn’t like it. When he saw her breathing slow into a normal rate, he smiles and reaches over, stopping when he sees her immediately flinching away from his hand.

“Can you get up?” He asked softly. She shook her head and jerked it away, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m going to pick you up, okay? You still need to get to the hospital wing.”

Rebecca doesn’t answer, even as he carefully hoists her on his back and starts moving to the Hospital Wing, even as he carefully pushes through the corridors.

Because she doesn’t think she’ll ever see him the same way ever again.

—————

Rebecca never seems to be able to sleep in the hospital wing. Every time Pomfrey told her to rest and every time, she ends up laying on her back and staring at the white ceiling, watching the time tick by. Her hands were covered with gloves and spelled with a sticking charm so she won’t pick at her cuticles from sheer boredom, and her sketchbook is still destroyed, so she can’t draw. But either she attempts to go to sleep, or run around the hospital wing and risk agitating her injuries AND angering Pomfrey.

So attempt to sleep it is.

Groaning, she rolls on her side, ignoring the dull aches in her side, and goes to close her eyes, when she hears flapping wings whooshing over her head. It can’t be Aurora, it’ll be silent. So, opening her eyes, she very nearly jolts out of her bed when she finds herself face to face with a white crow seeing by her bedside.

“WHAT THE FU—” She starts to shout, before the bird shifts from a bird, to Ollie bloody Potter, who jumps on her bed and slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Shush!” He whisper-yells, sounding panicked. “Do you want to wake up Pomfrey?”

“I’m sorry if I’m surprised when I find right in the face of a white crow, who - by the way - was you!” Rebecca whispered to him, pulling his hand off her mouth and scooting over to allow him room to sit. As mad as she is about… whatever that was, maybe he’ll be here to explain. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Ollie shrugged and sat cross-legged on the bed. “I wanted to check on you and give you this,” he murmured, pulling out a sketchbook, her sketchbook. “I managed to fix it while you were here — I had a lot of trial and error but it’s good as new And… I was a bit impatient to wait until morning.”

“My sketchbook!” Rebecca gasped, taking it in her hands with care. It's definitely it. It has her name on it. She carefully flips it open. The pages weren’t shredded and she can see the lines where the rips were. The stitching is back to its normal tension and even the best ends were straightened out. None of the slurs and insults were written on her drawings. It was as if nobody touched it. “Thank you but… Check on me?” She frowned, carefully sitting up. “Why? You’ve done enough when you forcefully calmed me down and took me to the hospital wing.”

She didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but it did because he flinched and looked down guiltily. “Right, about that,” he sighed. “I’m… sorry for being terrible at comforting you.” She folded her arms and waited as he struggled with his words. “I’ve never been good at comforting people, at all, so I always took the easy way out. I’ll never know what to do if I didn’t have my veela powers-”

Her eyebrows went up. “You’re a veela?” She blurted out loudly before she could stop herself. Wincing, she lowered her face again. “That’s what the feeling from before was?”

A flash of amusement flickered over his face. She couldn’t see in the darkness very well, but she knew it was there. “Yeah, only ¼ though. My father was ½ and my grandmother was full veela. You didn’t know?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “People talked about the Son of The Chosen One so many times, it’s getting a bit creepy. I’ve long since tuned them out. I wanted to know about people when I talk to them, and not from other people who have already formed a biased opinion of them. Don’t look so surprised,” she told him, seeing the agape look on his face. “Why do you think I never looked at you with starry eyes?”

Ollie closed his mouth and his shoulders relaxed. He’s smiling, contented; relieved even. “Sorry,” he murmured. “People look at me and never think of just Ollie. They just see the son of Harry Potter.”

She sighed. “Too bad for them. They don’t see the real you. By the way,” she reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I forgive you. You did it in the only way you know how to. Just… don’t do it without warning me next time unless you absolutely have to, alright? Promise?”

Ollie smiles wider and touches her hand. “Promise.”

#this is so bad and im sorry it took so long but i hope it makes you happy #ily ness #ollie potter #penny haywood #rebecca lord #lockwood gang #hphm #hphm fic #hphm fanfiction #hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery #lunar writes

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clown-bait · 5 years ago

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Monster Family Ch10 (Monster Roommate Au)

Wow so its been like 2 months since Ive updated thats bad man. Heres this please dont riot. CH10 Pennywise, Banjo Enthusiast

Fuck this. Fuck Neibolt. Fuck Pennywise, and especially fuck pregnancy. Leech lay on her back trying her damndest to get comfortable. Which she was failing at since the only position she could lay in was reclining on her back. She felt like an oversized prisoner of her own home with her heavily pregnant abdomen. The vampire shifted then scooted then kicked and groaned.

"PENNY!" She called but was met with the eerie silence of Neibolt house. "Pennywise?!" She called again but there was no presence of being watched or bumps in the dark. The sound of kids giggling and running by outside jogged her memory. Oh right he's out having his cheat day at the carnival. Leech moaned in defeat and frustration. It wasn't fair he got to go out and enjoy himself while she was forced to only partake in "light excursions only" screw Dr. West what did he know about supernatural pregnancy. She was a predator and she needed to hunt, not wait to be fed like a fat baby bird. She resigned to reaching for her phone sending a text to her friends only to get back pictures of them also at the carnival also enjoying themselves. Freddy and Chucky held a decapitated woman's head in one picture like they had just won it at ring toss accompanied by the caption "Sucks to be you!" Leech growled and threw her phone to the edge of the bed in frustration only to realize that now she can no longer reach it. Great. Too big to move, too big to sleep, too big to kill. She couldn’t even fuck her mate anymore because he was too rough with her. Tears stung her eyes and her throat grew heavy. Was it stupid to cry over this? Probably. Did she care? Not at all.

Leech stayed in her bed and cried alone for what felt like hours. She didn't even realize how long she had been throwing this tantrum till she looked up seeing a pair of wide confused yellow eyes in the dark. She sat herself up and wiped her face embarrassed that he found her like this. Her mate stepped into the light a teen caught in his fangs like a cat with a dying mouse. The eldritch cocked his head to the side in confusion then dropped the half-alive body in his jaws pressing on him with a heavy boot to keep him down. he leaned into his mate who shut her eyes and swallowed hard as he pressed his nose into her bald head inhaling and exhaling her emotions In big warm puffs. Gingerly, he attempted to lick her only to be pushed away causing him to try again.

They didn't speak or argue with words this time, his attempts to comfort being met with angry frustrated hisses and grunts. Pennywise finally caught her cheek and gently but firmly held her in place as he kissed his mate. His lips drew back with a soft wet sound making a growly churr at her moving his thumb slowly over her cheek. He touched her like she was made of tissue, holding back the claws and violence for her. Only ever for her. Leech finally broke letting out a whine as she returned his gestures kissing his soft lips as if she had been starving for them. An action that did not go unnoticed.

"So needy today." The eldritch mumbled and gently pushed her back. He couldn't get carried away with her right now, she was still in a fragile state and he knew she couldn't take him no matter how bad they both wanted it.

"Pen please." She whined and pulled him back "Please you know I need this."

The clown shook his head, bells tinkling along as he did. "Feed." He said finally turning his attention to the teen under his boot. His prey was limp and taking shallow dying breaths as the clown pressed into his back. The eldritch picked his prey up and held him still, pulling his neck back for his mate exposing the jugular vein.

He guided Leech up despite still being a mess of hormones and almost commanded her with his expression to eat. She knew that this was a very big gesture for him and when the eater of worlds generously shares his kill, you accept. As she felt skin break under her fangs the clown held his catch still till he was sure it was safe to let go and settle next to her, patiently waiting for her to finish while warily watching just in case. Leech tore at flesh with her teeth till the head separated and tumbled to the floor then the right arm which her mate picked up and ate like a turkey leg. Her leftovers fell to the ground with a heavy thud when she finished, and her flesh-eating clown seemed satisfied she was nourished. His hands carefully grabbed her wrist and he began to clean her gently sucking each finger till the red was gone.

"Pen-" Leech began in a small whimper but found her mate pushing her own back till she was laying down again her eldritch horror trapping her in place with his massive form. "Shhh needy thing. You are unwell, let Pennywise care for you darling."

"I feel fine Pen, I'm not sick."

"No. Not in here" his hands moved over her bump and came back to rest on her temples. "In here silly. Such nasty thoughts and sour fear. No good for eating my love." He said in that sing-song voice he used to lure prey.

"You wouldn’t eat me." She taunted him a little with an exhausted smile.

"Mmm wrong, wrong, wrong again needy thing! I’m always hungry for you!" He chirped and nipped at her cheeks till he reached her lips growling deep as he kissed them. "Mmm too many bad thoughts in that pretty head, Pennywise can see them all." He mumbled "No missing out, no feeling bloated, here to make it better sweet thing. Promise promise." He pulled her on top of him before she could react, his warm body feeling like a security blanket protecting her from every bad feeling in her head. After a moment of holding her, his large hands rubbed her shoulders firmly massaging any places of soreness he could sense while he hummed under his breath. She knew he was humming something, she could feel a melody in his vibrations part of her wished she could hear it.

"Its a rhyme." He answered before the question even finished forming in Leech's head.

"H-how does it go?" She knew he didn't like questions but hearing the boogeyman of Derry sing wasn't something Leech was just going to pass upon.

"Are you requesting a private performance sweet thing?" He purred a hint of excitement slipped through his voice.

"It would cheer me up. " the young vampire smiled and felt his warmth vanish from behind her. He was suddenly at the foot of her bed holding a banjo beaming with pride.

"Is that a fucking banjo?" Leech sat up crossing her legs "you play banjo?"

"I have quite a few." Her clown said matter of factly as he sat to tune.

"You're a banjo enthusiast?!"

"I am allowed to have hobbies Peachy."

"Look I knew about the circus accordion but banjos?"

"I could just leave you know, could be off enjoying other things."

"Ok ok I'll shut up…..holy fuck a banjo…." Leech muttered to herself and heard a rattly growling sigh. His long fingers caressed the neck of the instrument finding his fingering before giving it a test strum. He then gently ran his fingers over his babies tapping his mates stomach softly to wake them. "You will enjoy this my little ones" he purred and began to sing in that warbled clownish way he spoke. His long fingers plucked at the strings of the instrument with care and precision.

Oranges and lemons,

Say the bells of St. Clement’s.

You owe me five farthings,

Say the bells of St. Martin’s.

His voice sounded like an unhinged Winnie the Pooh. Leech found it adorable her eyes trained on his fingers as they strummed the instrument. She didn't even notice her insides were glowing like a Christmas tree but still absentmindedly put her hand over the globe of her stomach feeling its odd warmth against her fingertips.

When will you pay me?

Say the bells of Old Bailey.

When I grow rich,

Say the bells of Shoreditch.

When will that be?

Say the bells of Stepney.

As he sang Pennywise grew more and more intense his voice began to distort and his smile grew terrifyingly wide. Leech could hear the ghosts of dead children join him then the rhyme grew faster and pennywise had discarded the instrument to sing directly at their offspring which flashed intensely under her skin.

I do not know,

Says the great bell of Bow.

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,

And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!

The clown snapped his gnarled jaws shut like a steel trap at the end and the disembodied voices squealed with laughter. Pennywise cackled wildly flopping back onto the bed in a fit of giggles. As he calmed he squirmed his head into his mates lap joining his hand with her’s over the infant deadlights which thrummed happily from their parents’ presence.

"That was the most fucked up and oddly sweetest version of Bitch Better Have My Money I've ever heard."

Pennywise purred eyes drifting apart and buck teeth poking out from his grinning lips. Anyone else would have said he looked like a freak but leech loved this face. Her beloved vicious monster looked so dorky when he was happy.

"Will you take me somewhere tonight? I promise I'll sit the entire time."

The eldritch's smile faded and for a moment it pained the young vampire's heart to see it turn serious.

"I wanna hear more music and... I think they do too"

"You're playing dirty." The clown growled. Leech awkwardly pushed herself up using pennywise to cling to. She hugged him instead of letting go flashing that pleading look letting her front fangs just barely poke out from her parted lips that were still wet from his kisses. "Please Pennywise?"

"Pity does not work on me, dear." He snarled and stood to leave.

"I'll eat your clussy if you sneak me out."

The primordial God stopped.

"And we have a winner." Leech purred.

"I didn't say yes."

"You were going to."

"Well now I'm not."

"You're a mind reader you know I was going to throw in a surprise rim job."

"............where am I taking you?"

"AND WE HAVE A WINNER!"

___________________________

"I like your hair like this."

Robert gray blinked to attention at the comment.

"It’s cute when it curls a bit." Leech beamed at him as he sat down at their table.

"Cute." He spat and scrunched his face with annoyance.

"Deny it all you want ruffles you can’t change my mind. You're cute and I'm into it."

"Gross" came Freddy's voice as he approached invited himself to sit Dracula trailed behind looking slightly out of place in his antique clothes.

"Shouldn't you be resting fledgling?"

"Oh come on Drac, I'm a full vampire now I go to the fucking meetings and everything." Leech huffed and rolled her eyes at the insult.

"Yet you make mistakes that will quickly lead to your early demise. If it weren't for our help you would have never survived your first year."

The younger vampire bared her fangs at her elder "Whatever dad."

"Your ego is rubbing off on her." Dracula grumbled in the direction of an unamused Robert.

"Can you blame him? His everything has rubbed on her at least once." Freddy snorted stuffing his mouth with pretzels.

"Was that even necessary?" The eldritch made a face at the dream demon who was getting crumbs all over. Leech brushed some off her shoulder and scooted closer to her mate.

"Hey assholes I came here to listen to live music, not a catty bitch fest." the younger vampire hissed and flicked a pretzel at her companion.

"Sheesh the pregnant brain has turned you into more of a bitch than before." Freddy grunted and flicked the pretzel back

Leech turned to her mate "Pen kill Freddy for me."

"Again?"

"Make it hurt." She snarled.

"Enough!" Dracula nearly shouted drawing looks from the denizens of the town. "We are in a human establishment you can tear each other apart later!"

"Don't tell me what to do daad!"

Freddy rolled his eyes. "Fangs stop dragging your daddy issues into things"

"I do not have daddy issues." Leech hissed.

Robert finally let free a smirk "You do."

"Wow, I called you daddy in bed one time."

"She calls you daddy?" Freddy perked up.

"I'm not addressing this." Robert waved him away staring at the empty stage.

"Sure thing Daddywise." Freddy snorted and Robert almost turned green at the name.

"No." He snarled through gritted fangs.

"Shh oh my god shut up boys my friend is up next!" Leech hissed covering Robert’s mouth who seemed a bit taken aback at the gesture. A year ago he would have bitten off her hand. He really has gotten soft.

The eldritch grumbled settling back into a more comfortable position to watch the human. The song he sang was about hell hounds and blood on one’s name. Something about the devil. Typical blues music.

"So this guy definitely knows Phill."

"Wow couldn't even wait for the song to end Fred?" Leech glared at the demon

"Wow couldn’t even bother to read into things a little bit Fangs?" Freddy huffed "you'd have thought you'd get less green as time went on. In this business, a mysterious guy singing about the devil means one of two things. He's made a deal with him or he's a demon himself. "

"Hey, so one fuck you Krueger." Leech hissed "and two why is it important that he's got dealings with Phil? We all have connections to Phil. Hell even I owe the guy a favor...which he hasn't stopped texting me about..."

"You owe Lucifer a debt?" Dracula's eyes went wide under his glasses. "And the two of you allowed this?"

"What we've all made a bad decision before, let the kid learn." Freddy laughed and knocked back a drink

Dracula turned to Robert who shot back a look of confusion.

"Pen was drunk at the time Drac, besides I'm a big girl I can handle running an errand for Satan."

"That man up there sings of oblivion. This is a death you cannot escape from."

The scent of fear wafted up against Robert's nose as he watched the man on stage finally realizing just who this "friend" really was.

"S-So I'll do what he asks it's no big deal." Leech stuttered and pouted like a child being reprimanded as Dracula continued.

"Do you even know what kind of debt you will be paying?!"

Robert could care less about the lecture his mate was receiving from her mentor. Shed complain to him about it later no doubt. He was more interested in the crowd around them. He sensed agitation from the townspeople some of them murmured words along the lines of "the devil's music" as Duke Rivers continued to play. He knew his town he knew what was coming and a debt would be paid tonight.

"Alright alright fine I'll text Phil back holy fuck." Leech hissed and half-heartedly tapped at her phone.

As Duke took his bow a group of men stood up off to the side watching him make his way to the bar.

"Alright, he got back to me…." Leech huffed and slumped against her eldritch who watched the men follow. "The fuck?" The vampire said as the group of men got closer.

"This can’t be right I don’t even fucking know who or where this guy is." Leech whined and slid her phone onto the table.

"What he got you collecting someone for him?" Freddy chimed in now interested.

"Yeah, he wants me to bring him my father? I never even met the guy!"

The men led Duke outside.

"Darling." Robert finally said quietly.

"Wait you think he means? No. No way Phil's got the wrong guy."

"I'll return in a moment."Robert sighed and the vampire abruptly fell back as her mate stood and vanishes into the crowd.

"The fuck Penny?" Leech couldn't finish what she said there was a shout from outside and the telltale smack of a fist against flesh. Leech stared out the door in horror as the Duke headbutted his attacker in the face. The rest of the bar seemed eerily unaware of the fight. There was a scream and the sound of a body being dragged before the door slammed shut.

Leech felt a lump in her throat "…d....daddy?"

Freddy pointed at her and laughed "HA I KNEW IT!"

#pennywise #pennywise fanfiction #pennywise x oc #monster roommate AU #it ch 2 #freddy krueger #dracula

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dantediscoversfic · 6 years ago

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Chapter 40: The Crap Cave

“Dante! You found us!” Clio said as I hovered awkwardly in the doorway of the art room that first day of school during lunch period.

She bounded over and grabbed my elbow to draw me into the oddly dark classroom. The overhead lights were all off, the window shades partially drawn down and gloomy pop music I vaguely recognized as The Cure droned from a cassette player. About ten kids were sprawled out around the room, most of them sporting various degrees of punk/goth/New Waver style. Two corset-clad girls in billowy skirts drew intricate designs on each other’s arms in black pen; a couple dressed in “normal” clothes was making out with gusto in the corner by the potter wheels; a boy wearing all black continually skimmed his pointer finger over the top of a Bic lighter flame; and the rest were eating lunch, chatting, scribbling in notepads or singing along to the music. Clio flicked the overhead lights a few times to get everyone’s attention, eliciting a few winces and hisses and boos from the group.

“Everyone, listen up, this is Dante. He’s new. He’s from Texas, but try not to hold that against him. He’s a brilliant artist. Dante, this is everyone. That’s Raija, Jane, Sachi, Fletch and Kelly back there sucking face, Joseph, Ann, Dave, Forest and Vee.”

I was greeted with a few head nods and finger waves, except for the couple making out who kept at it with sloppy yet admirable enthusiasm. Everyone went back to their conversations as Clio led me closer to the girls she’d pointed out as being named Jane and Sachi.

“So, Dante from Texas, welcome to 'The Crap Cave’”, Clio said using air quotes. “We have lit mag meetings here and also make our own ‘zines and stuff. Raija’s mom Ms. B is the art teacher—she just stepped out for a minute—so she doesn’t care if we hang out here as long as we don’t you know, perform ritual animal sacrifices or set anything on fire. Again.” She coughed pointedly in the direction of the boy with the lighter seated a few desks down from us and the girls chuckled. Seeing my apparent confusion she said, “See, Joseph’s a bit of a pyro and went through a destruction of property phase last year, didn’t you, Jo-Jo?” The boy in question grinned slyly up at us. “But he’s got it under control now,” Clio continued. “He channels his urges into sculptures where he can use an actual blowtorch from woodshop.”

“Blowtorches rule,” he said and cast me one more glance before focusing all his attention back to his lighter and intrepid pointer finger. I couldn’t help but notice that all his fingernails were painted black and he was wearing eyeliner and dark lipstick like the girls.

I pulled my gaze away from him, not wanting to stare too hard and be rude. “What did you call this room? The ‘crap cave’?” I asked Clio. “Did I hear that right?”

“Oh yeah, you heard me right.”

“Do I even want to know?”

Clio laughed. “Don’t look so scared, we know how to use the bathrooms like everyone else. It’s a sort of long story. You ever hear of The Batcave?”

“You mean like from Bat Man comics?”

“No. Well yes, but no. Same but different. The Batcave is this famous club in London for people like us. Bauhaus, Robert Smith, Siouxie, Nick Cave, Specimen all hang out and play there. Jane actually got to go there this summer, that lucky bitch,” Clio knocked Jane’s shoulder with friendly admiration. “So we kind of started calling it that in homage to the club like a year ago. But then the school had this gross mouse problem and their little poops were, like, this constant presence in our lives, so somewhere along the line we started calling it ‘The Crap Cave’ instead. Because that's how we roll.”

“The mice were perfect and adorable, not gross,” Sachi said.

“Sachi, no. Just no. The mice themselves might have been cute but their poops definitely weren’t.”

The two girls bantered about whether the mice should have been saved and kept as pets or if they were indeed an icky health hazard while I took everyone in, trying not to gawk, and sat down to eat my packed lunch. I was fascinated by the group’s collective style: a motley assortment of teased and spiked dyed hair, leather jackets, ripped band t-shirts, corsets and lace, fishnets, heavy boots, winged eyeliner, black lipstick and nail polish, powdered white faces, spiky hardware chain jewelry mixed with rosaries, crosses and pentagram necklaces. Some of the boys were even wearing makeup, which was something you hardly ever saw in El Paso. Joseph, the pyro boy, was particularly fascinating to me. His raven hair was teased out as much as Clio’s and his dramatic eye makeup accentuated his blue eyes and delicate, almost pretty features. The flame from his Bic lighter cast a warm glow on his ghostly pale skin.

Clio must have caught me staring because she leaned in close to my ear and said, “Don’t worry, Dante, we might look at little scary but we don’t bite. At least most of us don’t. Forest over there is saving up to get his teeth filed, but it’s not for blood sucking purposes. It’s because it’ll look badass.”

“Wow. My old school in El Paso was a Catholic private school so we all had to wear uniforms. It’s so cool you can wear whatever you want here. And be whoever you want. Do you all make your own clothes? I love your corsets,” I said to Jane and Sachi.

The girls grinned at me with approval and Clio said, “I knew you were a good egg, Dante. Jane made the corsets. She’s an amazing designer and sewer. I think the rest of us get by with thrift stores, hot glue and a crapload of paperclips.”

“I’ve never really thought about my clothes before,” I said. “But now I feel so boring compared to you all.”

“Aw, there’s nothing wrong with being a normie,” Clio said and patted me on the back. “It doesn’t make you boring.”

“Well, if you want to try something new, let me know,” Jane said. “Jo-Jo’s my twin brother. I make stuff for him all the time. Cravats, vests, things like that. I’m sure he’d let you borrow something.”

“Wow, thanks. You think I’d look good?”

“Yeah, for sure. But don’t let us pressure you. We dress like this because it feels right, right? But it’s not for everyone.”

The girls nodded.

“How did you all know you wanted to get into goth stuff?” I asked.

Jane said, “Well, for me, growing up I loved making clothes and dressing up since forever. Halloween was my always my favorite holiday. I was obsessed, like obsessed. Like I’d start planning my costume and how to decorate the house six months in advance. And after it was over each year, the next day I’d get so sad and cry for days and beg my mom to keep the decorations up and let me keep wearing a cape or whatever to school every day. So when I figured out that I could dress however I wanted whenever I wanted and basically have Halloween all year round and have my clothes express how I feel inside all the time, it was like a big weight was lifted.”

“Do people make fun of you?”

“I mean, sure, dicks are dicks,” Jane said.

“We get all sorts of ignorant comments at school, on the street, wherever. Like…‘Hey Morticia, Halloween is over,’” Clio lowered her voice to a dopey male grumble.

“Or ‘Errr….Do you sleep in a coffin?’” Jane said.

“Or ‘You look pretty hot for a dead girl!’” Sachi said.

“Or my personal favorite, the classic ‘Going to a funeral?’” Clio said with an epic eyeroll. “Yeah, your funeral if you don’t shut up about it. Please. But there are lots of people who aren’t asshats and you can just ignore the losers.”

“Yeah,” Sachi said. “People say things like ‘Oh, you’d look so pretty if you didn’t dress like that’ but this is how I feel pretty and beautiful. I didn’t feel right before. Now I feel good. Right. Like myself.”

“Raija’s mom is super cool because she’s an old hippie and gets it,” Clio said. “But my mom is still waiting and praying for the day when I let her dress me all in pink pouffy dresses again. Sorry Anita, not gonna happen.” There was an edge to Clio’s voice when she talked about her mom that I hadn’t heard from her yet. It made me wonder what her home life was like.

Sachi said, “Yeah, my parents were all worried at first that I was depressed and wanting to kill myself. They tried to have an intervention with all my aunties and cousins. ‘We’re worried about you, Sachi.’ ‘This isn’t the real you.’ Um, first off, yes it is. And second off, I’m so much happier now than before when I felt like a fake.”

“Yeah, people think that we do this for attention or as a cry for help or because we’re suicidal or worship Satan or are in a cult, but that’s not true at all,” Jane said. “I started making clothes for myself when I was ten. This isn’t a ‘phase’. I’m not going to just grow out of it.”

“And finding people who are into the same bands and fashion and movies and everything makes putting up with all the weird looks and comments easier. We’re here for each other, ” Sachi said.

“And sure, we get attention,” Clio said, “because we stand out with our awesome amazingness. But it’s not like we do it for attention.”

“Yeah, I totally get it.” I said. “I think it’s great.”

The girls smiled at me and I wondered how it would feel to dress like them, if that would feel ‘right’ for me or not. I understood what Sachi had said about feeling like a fake, though, and not liking how that made me feel. I felt that way when I used to tell people my name was Dan and not Dante. I felt that way still, a little. Because I didn’t quite know what it meant to be totally free and open with myself and the world and the universe. Not when it came to the biggest secret I had. In El Paso, I felt like I already stood out by not looking Mexican enough, by liking art and poetry and books and astronomy too much. It was enough to blend in and not get teased or bullied for being a little strange. Now I wondered if I flipped the script and really tried to stand out—if I dressed all in black and put on makeup and spiked my hair and embraced my innate weirdness—if that would make me feel more like me. It might make me feel tough and cool and badass for a little while, but I doubted it would make me feel more like myself the way it did for this group. How did I know, though? I’d never tried it before.

I wondered what Ari would think of my new friends. I bet he’d like them. And then I wondered what Ari would look like in black nail polish and eyeliner. I bet he’d look like a dark glamorous rock star. The thought did funny things to my insides.

Then the art teacher, Ms. Baldwin a.k.a. Raija’s mom, came in. She had gray hair in a long braid all the way down her back and wore a long flowy dress and bangle bracelets. She turned the overhead lights on and said, “Hey darklings, the cruel daylight beckons. Gotta get ready for the next class. Lunch is over in five. And you two, yoo-hoo, Earth to Fletch and Kelly! Please rein in your raging hormones during lunch if at all humanly possible? I can’t have anyone getting pregnant on school grounds.” Everyone cracked up at that and Fletch and Kelly turned beet red but finally disentangled their entwined limbs (and tongues).

I had an art class with Ms. Baldwin later in the day so I introduced myself.

“Hi, I’m Dante Quintana, I’m in your painting class during sixth period.”

“Dante, it’s so nice to meet you. You’re new, yes? This lot showing you the ropes?”

“Yes, Clio invited me to eat lunch with her and be part of lit mag.”

“That would be lovely. I’m the advisor, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of you. How are you finding Chicago? Settling in all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am! Please, call me Ms. B. Where are you from?”

“El Paso.”

“Ah. I’ve only been there once. EPMA is a lovely museum. Have you been to the Art Institute yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“We’ll be doing a field trip later in the year, but if you are a lover of art you must go. It’s one of the prides of Chicago.”

“Thanks, Ms. B, I will.”

"Now if you’ll excuse me, Dante, I have to prep for next period. See you in a few hours!”

Ms. B went over to her daughter Raija, who had been sitting off to herself drawing in a sketchpad for most of lunch, and gave her a quick side hug before disappearing into a supply closet. Since everyone else was getting packed up I ate the rest of my lunch quickly and consulted my schedule to see where I was headed next.

“You’re in sixth period drawing?” I looked up and saw it was Joseph who had asked me the question. Standing up instead of hunched over the desk I saw how truly long and lanky he was. He was about a foot taller than me.

I nodded up at him and tried to smile but had a hard time keeping eye contact.

“Cool. Me too.”

He flicked his lighter a few times in his right hand and then grinned a lopsided grin at me before heading out into the hallway right as the bell rang.

This was shaping up to be a much different first day of school than I had expected.

#aridante fic #aaddtsotu

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schrijfpen-blog · 6 years ago

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Not Just Cinderella Ch. 2

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“So, is anyone going to tell me what happened in class?”

Logan’s words have me shrugging my shoulders, “I have no idea,”

“I can’t believe it, I just can’t believe it,” Elena waves her hands busily, the neon bracelets clanking together noisily. “Prince Charming actually sat with us, us!”

“Yeah, that,” Logan glances over at the excited girl. “And you don’t think that’s a little strange?”

“Oh yes, definitely,” she nods gravely, bobbing her head. “But still, he sat with us!”

Logan shakes his head at her excitement before he looks over at me. “Did he do anything weird to you?”

“No, uh... He lent me his pen but that’s all. He didn’t really say much either,”

“Hm...”

“Why? What’s wrong?” He looks oddly suspicious.

“It’s nothing,” Logan waves me off.

“Oh! How’d it go with the thing-a-majing you were called for?” Elena asks, finally snapping out of her Prince-Charming-induced-daze. “Are you in trouble?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Oh, it turned out to be nothing. She thought I did something, I didn’t do it, she didn’t believe me so I’m getting detention anyway,”

“What?” I gape at him “That’s so unfair!”

“Well, whatever,” he shrugs, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie “Not like I care, it’s just detention,”

Logan you should definitely start caring a bit more about this injustice.

“It’d be nice if detention were a subject. I’d pass it with flying colours,”

His relaxed attitude makes me sigh. “Please don’t be so proud of that. Your track record is really horrible this year,”

“Sorry,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I’ll be more careful. Cross my heart and stuff,”

I click my tongue at his reply, but he simply gives me a laid back smile. Adorable idiot. Someone definitely dropped him on the head when he was a baby.

The next two classes are pretty uneventful, and when it’s time for break we reach the cafeteria in no time at all. Separating from Logan and Elena, I walk over to our usual table while they disappear into the crowd to buy their lunches. I sit myself down at my seat and take out the sandwich I prepared this morning.

I still can’t wrap my head around what happened this morning. The school’s very own Prince Charming had somehow deemed me worthy of his company. Since when do things like that even happen?

A loud, painfully familiar laugh drags my attention over to the table in the centre of the cafeteria. It’s the unspoken ‘popular table’, but we of Loserville like to call it the ‘Fairy Tale Table’, or FTT for short. Especially since it has Prince Charming, but we quietly gave some of the other table sitters roles as well. Of course none of us plans to tell Dakota that we dubbed her the Wicked Witch.

Only the rich and beautiful are allowed to sit at that table anyway, even if you can remove 90% of that beauty with a wet wipe.

The one laughing is Cecilia, the twin sister of Drew who is seated next to her. They both have wavy long, black hair and gray eyes which would honestly look about half their current size without the fake lashes and flattering make-up they always busy themselves with. Stylish and poised, it’s no surprise that they hang out with Dakota; little bees under the reign of their queen.

Personally I’m all too familiar with how rich Cecilia and Drew are; though no one has really realised yet, they’re my stepsisters. Gotta be grateful for the world’s small favours though: despite being in the same grade, we’re not in the same class. That’d be enough to make anyone wonder if God is real and looking out for me a little, right?

I peek a glance over at the other side of the table where most of the guys are at. When my gaze meets a familiar baby blue, my body does an odd little twitch and I swear I can see a small smile before I turn my head away.

No way.

Since when is direct eye contact even a part of ogling Prince Charming?

Wait, why was he even looking my way at all?

“You look like you’re ready to throw yourself into a dingy little hole to wait for death,”

Wow Logan, thank you.

He sits down opposite me while Elena sits next to me, and I try to ignore the delicious scents of their food and to focus on my slightly dried out sandwich instead.

“Did anything happen?” Logan asks, raising a fry to his lips.

Mm... Fries... I must be staring at his food more than I thought because he suddenly dangles a fry in front of my face, a grin on his lips. “Here girl, come here,” he teases “Come and get it,”

With a playful growl I rise up in my seat a bit, capturing the fry with my mouth. Elena bursts out into a fit of giggles at my side and I sit myself back down, suppressing a wide grin and turning my attention back to my own food.

Most of the break is spent eating our lunches and random things we plan to do. Though, for me, there’s not much to say where that’s concerned.

Seven times. Throughout the school day I made eye contact with Prince Charming seven. Freaking. Times. And let’s not linger on how often exactly I glance his way, but instead let’s give it some thought that, before today, I don’t think he ever glanced my way even once.

Is today even a real day? Am I dreaming?

The air is still as cold as it was this morning, and the walk home is uncomfortably long without Logan around to amuse me. It’d be nice to ride back with Drew and Cecilia when the weather is like this, especially considering how Cecilia has a car, but I think they’d rather strangle themselves with their own insides than have anyone associate the three of us with each other.

To be honest, that thought is a little comforting.

Fortunately I make it back home before my limbs are completely numb, so I’m willing to count that as a point in my favour.

I don’t know what other people do when they get home, but for me it’s typically the same; I put my bag in my room in the attic, grab my apron and gloves, then I get to cleaning. By the time I finish the first round of cleaning it’s often time to work on dinner so I work on that next.

Moving around the kitchen, the sound of the door opening and closing reaches my ears, followed by laughter. Drew and Cecilia are back from wherever they went. Judging by the sound of various bags being dumped unceremoniously on the floor, I’m willing to bet they went shopping with Dakota again.

“Alexis I’m hungry! Hurry up!” Drew calls.

Then make your own food, please.

“Food is almost done,” I carry the tableware out of the kitchen to the dining table, yelping when I nearly stumble over a shopping bag, fumbling to stay standing without dropping anything.

“Watch out, you klutz,” Cecilia scoffs at me, waving a hand like she’s royalty or something. “Those are new, you know?”

You damned slob. You know your mother would kill me and mutilate my corpse if I’d drop these plates!?

“Sorry, I’ll be more careful,”

“See to it,” She sniffs haughtily before turning her attention back to the TV.

Snob.

“You’ll unpack them for us, won’t you?” Drew asks airily, knowing full well that I’m not in a position where I can’t say no.

“Of course,” Minding the bags, I take out the rest of the tableware, setting the table for three before returning to the kitchen to grab the food.

The front door opens again, only this time it comes accompanied with a stern, “Goodness gracious. Why are all these bags here? Am I to break my neck?”

“Welcome back, mother!”

“I already told Alexis to take them away but she hasn’t yet,”

Of course I wasn’t! I was making your food!

“Alexis!”

Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Okay, let’s go. Carrying out the steaming plate of lasagne, I plaster a smile on my lips. “Welcome back, ma’am. Did work go well?”

“Why didn’t you clean up the bags yet, Alexis?”

Cold and unforgiving, her gray eyes stare at me as if I’m no more than a speck of dirt at the bottom of her shoe. Actually, she’d probably prefer the dirt. As usual her ash blonde hair is pinned back into a neat bun, the tailored navy skirt-suit fitting her form perfectly.

“I was going to move them aside after I finished setting the table, ma’am,”

“You’d have me break my neck, Alexis?”

Shouldn’t you be asking your bratty kids that question?

“Of course not, ma’am. I’m sorry,”

“Put everything away, now,” she turns her head away, as if the conversation is over.

“I was planning to put everything away after dinner-“

“Did I stutter, Alexis?”

I press my lips together for a moment before forcing out a, “... No, ma’am,”

I ignore the giggles from the couch and place the last of the food down on the table before gathering all the bags strewn throughout the living room, barely able to carry them all. My stomach clenches when they start to eat, and I allow a longing thought to my own plate of food in the kitchen, before starting the struggle in carrying the bags up.

I can hardly remember what my life was like before Vivaldi and her daughters moved in. I vaguely remember spending some wonderful times with my mother and my father, but the memories aren’t as prominent as the memories of mother’s failed battle against cancer.

Father had grown sullen, and the air would often be heavy. I’d tried my best to cheer him up and he’d try his best to cheer me up. Despite our best efforts, it was hard to keep the good cheer.

One day he’d come to me, struggling to broach the subject of remarrying. He said he’d fallen for a lovely widow, and that it might be good to fill up the house with laughter once again. I hadn’t looked forwards to a new mother, but I wanted father to be happy. And so, with a smile, I’d given him my blessing.

Too bad the promised kind new mother and fun sisters turned out to be from Witchville.

They’d play nice enough when father was around, but whenever he’d leave on a business trip, I’d often go ignored. It was lonely, but it was doable. I had my friends, my hobbies: I had anything I needed to keep myself amused, knowing that when father would come back from his trip things would get better.

When news came that father would not return from a business trip, things only got worse. His body was never found, devoured by the sea. Where there is no body, there is hope, right...? Even though survival is, by all means, impossible, the lack of closure had me hoping, even after he’d officially been declared dead.

Though, it seemed I was the only one who was hoping and grieving...

My room somehow ended up becoming Drew and Cecilia’s, and I shudder every time I see what they did to it. The old and rickety attic became my new room; a cold place where the heater never wants to work properly.

At first I got ignored, but then, bit by bit, they started demanding things from me.

“Try cleaning,” they’d said while laughing. “It’ll help take your mind off of things,”

Well the joke’s on them, because I just happen to like cleaning just fine. It’s relaxing, and it’s nice to see everything become clean after my efforts. But it would be nicer if those brat sisters wouldn’t mess up my efforts on purpose.

However... I’m sure that once I’m eighteen Vivaldi will expect me to leave the house. Lord knows she’s hinted many a times that, with the small inheritance left to my name, I’ll surely find myself a different place to live, right? Though she can’t kick me out due to fear of how it’d be perceived by society, there will be no trouble for her if I decide to move out on my own.

This house filled with memories... It pains me to think that one day I won’t be living in it anymore, but it pains me even more to think that the rest of my life will look like this.

The clothes are finally put away, and I make my way back down. I let my food heat up in the microwave while I clear up the dirty dining table, taking my plate up to my room once I’m done.

I sit myself at the uneven desk and start up the old laptop that once belonged to Drew. It’s slow, noisy, quick to overheat, and I honestly fear a bit for my life every time I have to start it up. I eat and prepare my school books while I wait for the laptop to start and hope the fan won’t quit working and force the laptop to shut down before I can finish my history essay.

When the last of the chores and my homework are done, it’s nearly midnight. I carefully lower myself on the creaky bed with a tired grunt, turning my back to the nightstand that holds the book I’d been reading the past few evenings.

I close my eyes with a small sigh, curling up under my blankets, trying to ignore the cold and the sound of air whistling through the small creaks left in the banister of the window.

Another day is over.

#|| Story || Not Just Cinderella #Chapter #Romance #High School Story #Modern Cinderella #Cinderella #Romance Story

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storytaeme · 7 years ago

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kiss kiss fall in love – taegi

The kissing booth was getting tedious when they had been mediocre kisses, but the game changed when his crush Yoongi stepped into the picture.

taegi week 2017 – taehyung x yoongi

❅ Prompt: Mistletoe

❅ Elements: Fluff | Kissing Booth AU

❅ Word Count: 3,614 words

❅ A/N: Wow I’m a massive procrastinator. This was a cute idea I really wanted to use so I hope you guys enjoy! Title is obviously an anime reference because I’m a nerd.

Taehyung supposed that he should’ve known better than to trust Park Jimin, your local charity enthusiast and avid philanthropist, to plan his Christmas Day. While he had anticipated getting pissed early with cheap supermarket soju or even making a ton of hot chocolate, dousing it with Bailey’s, and topping it with a mountain of whipped cream, he was instead caught up in this festive bullshit.

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely adored these kinds of events that celebrated the commercialized holiday based on the birth of a holy figure (go capitalism!) but to spend the entirety of his one day off selling his soul for the sake of the children was almost torture. His university held this annual three-day Christmas market that catered to the entire student population, faculty, and community. It was a huge shindig and drew in crowds by the throngs. Jimin, of course being the sweetheart that he was, basically ran the entire thing with his two bare hands. It was impressive if it weren’t so guilt-tripping on his end. When Jimin came to him with the request, how heartless would he be to say no?

So he agreed. He arrived on the day and waited for his assignment. Jimin’s answer had been unexpected. “Kissing booth,” he said.

“What?” Taehyung blinked at him, surprised.

“You’re in the kissing booth. We have three, mistletoe on top and all. Now, off you go. Get those lips ready to pucker up, big boy.”

Taehyung had flinched and called him gross, before taking a deep breath. “Let me get this straight. When you said that I was going to meet a lot of people during the event, this is what you meant? A kissing booth?” His horrification certainly didn’t fly over his friend’s head, Jimin only grinned.

So he was stuck there in a booth that looked way too fancy for something that promoted swapping spit for money. They even had certain rates—kiss on the cheek was a three, getting a kiss on the cheek was a five, lips a ten, twenty for a thirty-second make out (his favorite honestly). There was a good number of people in his line at least, he was raking in good cash. Jimin had even passed by during his rounds to give him a thumbs up. It was kiss after kiss, another bill another mouth. He didn’t expect to be one of the popular ones considering who even did pay for kisses these days?

Turned out though, he was quite the catch. Taehyung could pride himself on his kissing skills. He was pretty good at it, he could admit that. Thus, it was fortunate that he was able to use it for some good. However, the kissing bit was getting a bit tiring—his lips were oddly sore, and there were way too many people in line for him to accommodate.

“Jimin,” he groaned when it was finally time for break. During the hour-long break for lunch, it was only the food booths that stayed open and Taehyung could thankfully put a closed sign up as he sought out his friends. There were a few boo’s from the crowd but he couldn’t please everyone.

Jimin had been wandering around the grounds to ensure that the celebration was going smoothly. The man was surely on top of his shit, always ready to step in whenever an emergency situation emerged. Taehyung would husband the fuck out of him if he could, but alas his attraction to Jimin was limited to pure physicality and never to pursue romantic endeavors.

“Taetae, you’ve been good. I’ve been keeping track of where all the money flow has been going and the kissing booths have been popular, particularly yours,” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows knowingly. He’s probably planned this all along. Taehyung being a great kisser was common knowledge (read: he knows this, everyone else is a moot point), so it wouldn’t be surprising if he had planned to lure his friend in from the very beginning.

Taehyung scrunched up his nose and instead said, “That’s the thing. Can I switch over to something else? My mouth is getting sore and it’s getting gross how many kisses I’m giving out. I’m pretty sure there’s a sixty year-old dude in line who’s looking to buy an hour long hookup.”

Jimin frowned, “That’s against the rules.”

“Hour-long is an obvious exaggeration, friend, but the sixty year-old is not.” There really was a balding man standing in the queue earlier who had licked his lips one too many times to make Taehyung comfortable. The last thing he wanted was for a creep to stick a tongue down his throat. He’s had pretty good luck with his buyers so far, he’s afraid he might be running out.

“I don’t have anyone to replace you right now,” Jimin said earnestly, flipping through the sheets on his board as if desperately looking for someone who could take his place. His guilt made remorse eat up Taehyung inside out. Jimin had been working himself to the bone for this event and the last thing he wanted to do was add more to his plate.

Taehyung sighed and decided that he could suck it up for the rest of the day. “Alright, it’s fine. I can stick through it for a little longer. For the kids, right?”

Jimin’s expression seemed to flood with relief almost instantly. He practically melted in Taehyung’s arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you. I;m sorry again for dragging you into this but we’re a little short-handed. Nobody really wants to spend their Christmas helping out these things, you know.” There was his awkward laugh, one that always had Taehyung’s heart throbbing painfully. Jimin was too good of a soul, too good for this world.

“I know, don’t worry,” Taehyung grinned reassuringly, giving a punch to his friend’s shoulder for emphasis. “I’ll be fine. Go do your thing, boss man. This event needs you. I’m pretty sure I saw the pancake booth set its stove on fire on my way here, so you might want to check that out.”

The other boy cursed under his breath and glared at his board to check for location. “Shit, again? Those guys are seriously—whatever, I’ll deal with it. Thanks again! I’ll make sure to send some of my friends your way, they’re good people and even better kissers—” Jimin laughed “—so they’ll treat you well. I’ll see you later, yeah? We can go for celebratory drinks after tonight. On me.” He threw one last brilliant smile his friend’s way before jogging down the lawn to chase after that exploded stove.

Taehyung returned sulkily to his position, knowing that he was in for another good few hours of kissing random strangers for money. Think of the children, Taehyung, think of the children. “You got this, dude,” he encouraged himself and moved back in the direction of the booths towards the back.

The line he had left before seemed to be permanent as he noticed the same faces who had been waiting earlier still there. It was almost flattering to know that there were a handful of people sincerely dedicated to buying a kiss from his lips. This job could at least give a boost to his ego. And once that lunch bell rang, he was putting the sign aside and welcoming the first buyer to his counter.

“Hello, what can I do for you today?”

Finishing off this line seemed to be an impossible feat. It was almost four in the afternoon and he has barely made a dent in the chunk of people waiting for his booth. There were guys and girls, even a couple of his friends who did it for the shits and giggles, as well as for the good cause. His cheeks were seriously beginning to ache from how much he had to push himself to smile to greet the guests.

However, despite everything, Taehyung kept expecting his fate to turn around. Maybe, just maybe, this kissing booth would allow him to meet the one. Call him a cynic when it came to Christmas, but Taehyung was big on the whole other-half, almost-soulmates business. College had prevented him from keeping a boyfriend around when all everyone wanted was a good hookup. But Taehyung—he was a bit of a dreamer when it came to romance.

There was one man he’s had his eye on for quite some time. The guy was older, a graduate student who went to the performing arts school of his university. While Taehyung was all crunching numbers and microscope-collected data, the man was spitting fire and slaying the hearts of every man, woman, and animal out there. He was so out of his league, but Taehyung still had a teensy crush on him.

The two had been introduced when he had come to watch Jimin’s performance. Taehyung had been shocked to see that someone beat him to Jimin with flowers, and it sort of bugged him, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the guy was fucking cute and Jimin had been hiding the man for far too long from his best friend to be deemed socially acceptable.

“I didn’t introduce you guys because it just never came up,” Jimin had shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung hissed, “you took Jeongguk to meet me the first week of school and he’s a freshman.”

“Okay, so maybe at the time, I had a thing for him,” Jimin had admitted shyly, “so I didn’t want him to be into you. I’m over it now though, got my eye on someone else. He’s all yours to woo if you want.”

Taehyung had tried exactly that—wooing, that was. It was harder than he thought when Min Yoongi was practically the perfect specimen. He was sassy and cute at the same time, but also such a spicy character that Taehyung was scared to get burned if he were to come near him.

The guy had never shown any real interest in Taehyung that he became content with watching the man from afar, going to his shows with Jimin or spying on him whenever he was in the library with his headphones on (he looked his hottest then). That was the extent of his interactions and he figured that he had blown his chances the second he dropped a shitty pickup line about sucking at games he can most definitely win. He had gone home with a tail between his legs when Yoongi had given him a strange look.

But there he was—standing in Taehyung’s line. He hadn’t noticed him before, only did when he spotted Namjoon and Hoseok a few feet away. The two were mutual friends of him and Jimin, so he was about to say hi until his gaze wandered to the long string of people leading up to his counter.

Min Yoongi.

The name almost spilled from his lips instinctively and into the mouth of the girl who had paid to kiss him for a half a minute. Seeing him there was so distracting. Yoongi oozed smooth jazz and hard rap all at the same time. His look was casual, black bomber and combat boots complemented by dark washed jeans and a snapback that pushed his hair back—Christ, his hair looked sexy pushed back. There was an irritated scowl printed in the crease of his forehead, but also a hint of concern as his eyes darted over to his friends who offered him thumbs up in motivation.

Taehyung was at a loss honestly. Even as he went through the rest of his guests, he was still puzzling over the elder’s presence there with his lips locked against one of the others who had paid for his time. Taehyung would’ve given in to Yoongi in a heartbeat with or without the money. When it was finally his turn to step up, Taehyung’s heart was already jackhammering against his chest and threatening to burst out.

“Hyung,” he greeted, “didn’t know you were into this sort of thing.”

“What? Kissing strangers?”

Taehyung blinked at him in feigned innocence, “More charity. You always said you had a cold, cold heart.”

“Well, I have a soft spot for Park Jimin who actually told me to come here.”

Oh. “Oh,” Taehyung deflated. Of course it was Jimin. Everyone had a soft spot for Jimin, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Yoongi did too. Better yet, he might as well have a crush on the kid. Taehyung wouldn’t be the least bit astonished if that was the case. Still, he couldn’t help the nibbling of jealousy on his skin and his heart thundering painfully.

“Yeah, so, uh, how do we do this?”

“Pick whichever service you want,” Taehyung explained, tapping his finger against the sign set up with all the prices. “Pay in advance and then we can get down to business.”

Yoongi’s eyes scanned the words, eyes widening as he went down the list. “So, uh, what does making out consist of? Like tongue action or?”

“Why?” Taehyung asked, flashing a smirk his way, “interested in sticking your tongue down my throat, hyung?”

The elder actually got flustered and the sight was endearing. Taehyung wished he could capture this moment on camera, because what a sight Yoongi was when he was blushing to the tips of his ears, face beet red in embarrassment. “Just making sure I don’t get too much saliva involved in this whole thing,” he muttered in excuse.

“Well,” Taehyung started again, leaning forward, “I usually charge extra for tongue, but for you, I’ll throw it in for free. A lap dance is still extra charge though, if you’re interested, I can open that category up for you.”

Taehyung thought that it might even be an accomplishment that he managed to shock Yoongi twice within an hour. The guy was stuttering something about Taehyung being ridiculous, but the gummy smile on his face betrayed that ridicule. “I’ll just take the thirty-second thing, I guess,” he coughed, pulling out a couple of bills from his pocket and handing it to Taehyung.

The younger quickly placed it in his cashbox before curling his finger in his direction. “C’mere then, big boy, give me those pretty lips.”

Yoongi leaned forward awkwardly, wondering how he should be positioning himself to be making out across a wooden counter that separated them. If Taehyung had his way, he would be stalking around the table and jumping on Yoongi, wrapping his legs around his hips and crashing his lips down. Alas, Jimin had laid down the law and ensured that, for the safety of his friend, no one was allowed behind the counter and Taehyung was to offer his lip service from across it.

Kissing Yoongi felt forced and tense, nothing like what he was expecting. Though, it should be understandable considering that they were actually bartering charity money for such an intimate act. Yoongi didn’t move for a little while, and Taehyung had to force himself to relax so he could move his lips against Yoongi’s. It took a few seconds but the younger slowly began to get into the kiss, moulding his lips against the elder’s in a proper kiss that left him breathless and panting when his alarm beeped.

“Time’s up,” he rasped, oxygen still knocked out of his lungs. He could barely breathe. He could still feel his lips tingling from where they had met Yoongi’s, those soft plush lips Taehyung wish he could suck into his mouth all day. He wondered what a full make out session with Yoongi would be like, but quickly urged the fantasy away. The last thing he needed was a boner during work hours.

“Ah, right,” Yoongi cleared his throat, “I’m just gonna—”

“Come on, buddy, I’m next.” The guy behind him tapped Yoongi on the shoulder and made a shooing motion. The elder blushed again and nodded, ducking his head but still sparing a brief glance to Taehyung.

Taehyung bit his bottom lip to push away the buzzing. “Thanks for your contribution, hyung, the kids appreciate it.”

“Yeah, the kids,” Yoongi swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. He stepped out of the way with an apology to the man behind him. Taehyung wanted to kiss him again and tell him that it was okay, was even tempted to close the booth so he could jump the guy’s bones. But Jimin would be pissed if he caught that so he decided against it.

Instead, Taehyung tried to push away all thoughts of Yoongi. He focused on pleasing whoever came next and next and next. The kisses were getting tedious and he wasn’t sure how many times a person had come up and pointed out the mistletoe with a giggle. It was a festive thing, he didn’t make the rules nor the setting.

But, it wasn’t until he saw the familiar face again that he felt hope spark within him.

“My lips were too good to let go, huh?” he teased.

Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Namjoon and Hoseok didn’t want to step up but wanted to donate so they sent me.”

“Hmm,” Taehyung hummed with a twinkle in his eye, “you know there’s a donation booth right over there, right? You don’t have to come all the way here and line up to add to the funds.”

The realization that that excused didn’t work seemed to dawn on him and his lips parted in surprise, a faint pink coloring his cheeks. “R-right, I should—”

“But I mean, you’re already here, why waste the opportunity to get something in exchange for your good deed of the day?”

Checkmate. Yoongi nodded, still a little shy, but handed the bills over.

“Same one as before?”

The elder nodded and shifted forward again. Taehyung did the same and touched his lips to meet the other’s. It was soft and steady at first for the first few seconds. However, once Yoongi pressed deeper, Taehyung lost all track of time. His lips moved rhythmically to his heartbeat and Yoongi tasted of sweet cotton candy and all things wonderful in life. Taehyung’s heart was beating too loud, too fast. He parted his lips when Yoongi’s tongue traced the bottom one, allowing the muscle to slip inside and twist against Taehyung’s. He tasted so, so good and Taehyung couldn’t help himself from reacting quickly to the movement.

They were too caught up in their own world, too immersed in the sensations of each other’s lips. It felt wonderful, like sunshine had seeped through the clouds and illuminated the world.

It wasn’t until throats cleared behind them that they unwillingly separated. Taehyung could suddenly hear the beeping of his alarm next to him. He wasn’t sure how long it’s been ringing, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. His mind was still thrumming with a good electric current, body warm all over from how Yoongi felt against him.

“S-so, that’s it,” he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Yoongi gulped, “I guess I should step out of the way.”

Taehyung made no move to confirm nor deny. But, just as Yoongi stepped away, he caught his wrist, “You should come back. For the kids I mean. It’ll be nice to have extra funds for Christmas.” It was a selfish guilt trip but Yoongi didn’t seem to mind it either as he nodded and went away.

Throughout the rest of his shift, Yoongi visited twice more. His friends had disappeared a while ago and left Yoongi to hop into the queue again and again. Taehyung kissed him again and again. He enjoyed it again and again and again.

“Thanks for the donation, pleasure doing business with you,” Taehyung murmured one last time before propping the sign up to close the booth. The festival was already dwindling down to its final moments, with only the fireworks left in a few minutes. There were still stalls open to sell food and beverages, but otherwise, all other activities had been shut down for the day.

Yoongi was his last customer. “Right,” the elder nodded, smiling shyly, “thanks for that.”

“The kids appreciate it,” Taehyung paused, “and so did I. I definitely appreciated your services.”

“Me too,” he murmured.

“I should close up.” Taehyung coughed, standing to clear the table and lock the cashbox.

Yoongi hesitated for a brief moment before blurting out, “W-what are your plans after this?”

Taehyung hid his mild surprise but couldn’t help his heart from leaping in excitement. “I was just planning to take a look at the food and catch the fireworks. You?”

“Yeah, same,” Yoongi swallowed again, throat moving. The two stayed in silence and Taehyung just kept waiting patiently for the elder to make his move. “W-would you by any chance want to join me—”

“Yes,” he said before he could even process the offer properly, “I mean, yes, I’d love to. It’ll be fun to have some company.”

Yoongi practically lit up. “Great, I can help you clean up and we can walk around together?”

“Perfect,” Taehyung beamed right back, “oh and, Yoongi?” The man turned around to face him. “You don’t need a mistletoe or kissing booth for an excuse to kiss me. I’d take that free of charge anytime, anywhere.”

He was graced with that gorgeous blush once again as Yoongi muttered under his breath, “In that case.” He drifted over to Taehyung, rounding the booth to catch the boy in his hands. His palm settled on his hips as he leaned closer to brush his lips lightly against Taehyung’s. “Happy holidays, Kim.”

“Merry Christmas to me,” Taehyung grinned.

#bts #taehyung #yoongi #taegi #taegi17 #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taegi scenarios #taegi fanfic #taegi fluff

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promiscuous-jalapeno · 7 years ago

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☼ V Route Review ☼

I have had so many messages asking for my input on the route and the characters, so here it is!!! (p.s. I made that gif^^^^ I’m pretty impressed with myself ?? wow lmao)

Heavy on spoilers so the text is under a cut! It’s also pretty lengthy so...you’ve been warned haha.

This route had me feeling different ways as I moved through the days. I’ll try to touch on as many subjects as I can, and I am not sure how lengthy this will be getting. Some themes/aspects I both liked and disliked for different reasons. It is in my nature to debate myself and see both sides to things, so if you see me basically contradicting myself or arguing with a point I made previously, that is why.

I am basing this on the Good End play-through alone, as that makes the most sense.

I’d also like to state that, of course, these are all my personal opinion. If you disagree with anything in my review then that’s great! But on the contrary, you will not find me fighting you over opinions. If you come into my box to attack me over what I have to say about the route, I will simply ignore. I’m really sorry I have to say this, but as I have unfortunately already seen several...distasteful arguments over this route, I feel it needs to be said. I think everyones opinions are valid and this is by no means me trying to force my opinions or tell you that what you feel and think is wrong! It’s just my analysis^^

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I’d like to preface this by saying that I did have fun and enjoyed the route for entertainment purposes. We got to see more of those minor characters we have been craving (i.e. Saeran, Rika, and even Vanderwood!)

I think I am not alone in my wanting to see more of Mint Eye and the interactions between Saeran and Rika (as well as V, of course). I am so glad this route focused a lot on that aspect. Before the route was released, I thought it would make the most sense to approach it from MC being involved with Mint Eye more in order to get closer to V and/or Saeran, and after playing it I still believe they made a smart choice!

The beginning of the route was everything I wanted. We had plenty of Saeran, we had our set-up. Game testers in an unknown place. I had stated this before but I honestly loved this premise so much more than “wow you’re now in some random apartment and btw you can’t leave.” They kept it otome fanciful while making it a bit more believable, I was really happy with that. And when I first saw V in his Mint Eye garb my heart dropped! I especially love the CG where Saeran is behind him with the flowers!

I’m kind of a sucker for story lines where you’re a captive and someone rescues you, so I was so so happy with the plot for this route. Not to mention being in the middle of not TWO people, but THREE. I was not expecting Rika to be so infatuated with MC as well. That threw me for a loop, and hats off to Cheritz for that because I was digging it lolol.

I adored learning about V’s mother. That was something I hadn’t expected, and I am just so happy that we got to see what we did. The CG’s were so heartwarming, and the diary entries and thoughts were just beautiful. I loved seeing V progress in his relationship with his mother, and how her love for him helped him be who he truly was. For once, it was nice to see a parent in this game really nurture their kid and help them grow.

Lastly, I would like to add that I was completely pleased with the timeline of this route, simply for Saeran. I was so curious what he was like during the formation of Mint Eye. I loved seeing this glimpse of ‘Ray’ since this takes place a mere 6 months ? after Rika’s “death” so it is still very fresh. Mint Eye is very new. The building isn’t even completed yet--

The basement....yikes. Yes, the last and most important detail to any good, well functioning cult hideout--the creepy dungeon-esque torture chambers complete with jail cells and the happy shrieks of pain excitement from loyal followers.

MC is kinda joining this clusterfuck in its heyday. We are seeing these characters before they are too far gone. They’re figuring things out, Saeran is still mostly his kind and calm self, Rika is still questioning very much her relationship with V and the RFA, as well as her inner demon. I think it was an integral part of the story and a very smart placement for this route.

Overall, there were plenty of things I enjoyed and also things that bugged me. I think Cheritz did a very good job, all things considered. But the Good Ending left me feeling...more dissatisfied than I had hoped.

As I drew nearer to the ending, I got the overall feeling of a kid watching your parents argue. A lot of the interactions as the days rolled on were quite repetitive and honestly I found myself getting bored reading them. They filled up the days with an onslaught of chats and VN’s featuring Rika talking about loving her demons--we GET IT. YOU LIKE BEING EVIL-- V being a wet blanket and a masochist, and lots and LOTS AND LOTS of talking about the Sun. To the point that most of the language and poetic descriptions of love and suns just started to mesh together, seeming fake deep and overworked and mundane.

Instead of these repetitive chats, we should have had more interactions with V, where he actually relies on MC and they learn more about each other. Most of the time MC was with V he was either SICK or hurt or...asleep. Or weirdly sitting in Saeyoung’s car outside for no apparent reason. Why? It almost seems lazy. Like they couldn’t figure out a way for V and MC to interact and bond more (or it was just too difficult to squeeze it in) so they kept find reasons to keep them apart. I felt the text messages from V were the most he really tried to communicate with MC and really learn about her. Most of the texts were philosophical back and forth or him asking her how he should deal with feelings like apprehension in art when faced with criticism etc.

I think we could have scrapped quite a few of the lovey-dovey VNs where Rika and V are proclaiming their undying dark love over and over again or like...in bed together (groan)...and replaced it with, I don’t know, maybe MC and V? Actually learning about each other????

It didn’t bother me so much during the route that V had a hard time confessing that he had feelings for MC. That part seemed very natural. What bothered me was just the complete lack of true interaction with V. If he was so obsessed with Rika, we would really need to see just why he fell for MC. I’m not satisfied with the answer that MC is naive, or that she’s so good and pure just because she didn’t form an evil cult.

I felt more romance from Rika than I did from V. And in the other routes, we ALWAYS help the characters overcome their fears and learn to be better people. We help Zen get in touch with his family again, and we love him for his heart not his looks. We help Jumin overcome his issues with women and possession. We help Jaehee finally go for her dreams. We help Yoosung learn to work through grief and become mature. And Saeyoung of course, we help him accept love, and finally search for his brother. This didn’t happen with V. Well, it did a little bit. I liked that MC wasn’t pushy, and she encouraged him that he could find true love! I liked that part a lot. But for the majority, I just felt more like a passive observer in the route. Talking to V seemed like you were talking to a brick wall at times, and no matter what you say he still wants to sacrifice himself. So it felt like, while we said kind and encouraging words, V sort of did his own thing until he figured it out himself.

Not to mention the fact that they gave him an out in the end. Why was it Yoosung who makes Rika face what she has done? Don’t get me wrong, it was still wonderful to see Yoosung taking charge and using his familial love to push her to get the help she needs! I was so happy! But... It should have been V. Everything got tidied up for him, and apart from telling her it’s over, I didn’t see much development of his character towards the ending. I wanted to see him go from refusing medical treatment in order to protect Rika, to finally realizing what she is doing is wrong, she needs help, and having her face the authorities.

And what about Saeran??? That was handled so oddly? It’s like everyone forgot he existed or didn’t care what happened to him? It was the weirdest from V. It left a sour taste in my mouth that they made it seem like Saeran died and yet V is off getting puka shell necklaces or whatever for 2 years and then comes back with the strength to love. Like, that’s all well and good but....did you forget about Saeran? And how are you going to tell Saeyoung his brother is dead now even though the only thing he asked of you was to keep Saeran safe.

I TRULY HOPE they touch on this in the after ending, because I don’t think it was like V at all to just toss Saeran aside like that. -_-;;

I loved the route for what it was. I’m playing it again, and I’ll continue to play for the different endings. I am so grateful to Cheritz for this content and for being gracious enough to give us a route for V! Some days had me on the edge of my seat, some parts had me laughing or made my heart ache completely. I probably sound really nitpicky with some of the above text lol but in all honesty I loved the route and had a ton of fun playing it. The music was brilliant! The CGs were beautiful, I really love whoever the artist(s) was that worked on these for the route. Playing this game again was a bit surreal, and I found myself filled with memories of when I first downloaded and played the game (obsessively). I think the route was worth the wait.

-ON SAERAN-

I think it goes without saying but I will say it anyway--I LOVED SEEING MORE SAERAN!!! Going into this route, I had the lowest of hopes for Saeran interaction. It’s better to have low expectations and then be thrilled instead of high expectations and disappointed, right? We got to learn so much about his character, just from the few interactions we had with him. His confirmation of loving ice cream, he enjoys being outdoors, he loves flowers and has even gone so far as to know the language of flowers (which is impressive), he has an intense need for validation and love, and finally, due to his extreme circumstances--he has compartmentalized his feelings and personalities in order to protect himself.

Learning his softer side was a shock as well as a pleasant surprise. I felt my heart warming up as I chat with him.

On top of that, I would also like to point out that since this takes place over a year (?) prior to the regular routes...it was heartbreaking and eye opening to see how often he was taking medicine/drugs.

Saeran turned into unknown when he drank the elixir (as the majority of what he took “with each meal” was just painkillers). It was so sad to see just how loaded up with drugs he was. And it gives you a scary comparison between ‘Ray’ in this route and the Unknown we know from the original game. I can’t imagine just how many things he is taking during the original. Wow. I just kept clinging to the memory that we save him in Saeyoung’s route lol.

-ON RIKA-

I loved learning about Rika’s backstory. We did learn a bit from the normal routes and secret endings, but I think it helped to get a glimpse into her own perspective of her life. I think it was also really important, this feeling that she hadn’t even disclosed this information (her school life/some of her childhood and feelings about her darkness) to even V himself. She really opened up to MC, apparently more than anyone else, EVER. This was strange to me at first...but I think it is a positive. I felt that she was just so desperate for someone to be close to her again, and she latched on to MC.

Her character is so interesting and I know she’s a topic of such controversy in the fandom, but I liked hearing her thoughts on why she did what she did. It’s something I wanted since I finished the secret endings. I hope in this unreleased after ending we might see her making progress in treatment.

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So those are my thoughts. I could probably keep going but I think I’ve said enough to convey the key points! Kudos if you read all of that haha!

-Jalapeño

#mystic messenger #v route #jihyun kim #v route review #mystic messenger headcanons #mine

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startofamoment · 7 years ago

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It’s me & I’m back with another new AU despite having 10+ WIPs in my drafts!! (Why am I like this??? RIP) Ok so I’ve got a Rosa/Gina Cake Shop AU fic in the works, but since that’s predictably going to take forever for me to finish, here is a list of headcanons for a Jake/Amy version of that AU:

Charles owns and runs Niko’s (the only cake shop in Brooklyn to boast having the best mouth-feel), and Amy is his acclaimed cake decorator.

She’s not allowed to touch anything that’s uncooked or not made for decorating; even the buttercream frosting and the fondant icing she uses are made by Charles.

The first time Jake comes into the store, he’s super frazzled because he completely forgot he volunteered to bring cake for the precinct’s annual picnic.

Charles is worried they won’t be able to finish a Perfect cake by noon, but he accepts the order anyway and even waives the extra rush fee. (”I got you, Jakey! Leave it to me!”)

Amy is Not Pleased because she is the one who has to figure out how they’re going to get a cake chilled, frosted, and decorated in less than an hour. She’s never one to back down from an organizational challenge though, and she manages to get the cake boxed and ready a whole 4 minutes before Jake comes by to pick it up.

Jake becomes a regular at Niko’s and always has the most ridiculous orders.

He quickly picks up that Amy is a Type A Perfectionist, so he’s always like, “Alright, today I want... a lopsided cake, tilted exactly 1.5 mm to one side, with a sugar flower 0.78 cm off-center. Oh, and make sure it’s sliced unevenly!”

Amy is appropriately infuriated, but she’s all for fulfilling oddly specific instructions.

Let’s be honest, all the cake orders land Jake in crushing debt. After he makes his 20th order in two months, Charles starts to get concerned about his finances and starts creating the weirdest discounts/promos.

”50% off for all NYPD detectives whose first names begin with J!”

“Buy one, get one cake free if you come wearing a leather jacket!!”

“Free cake decorating class if you can quote 20 minutes of Die Hard!” (“Charles, I did not agree to teach this!!!” “AMY, YOU GOTTA.”)

One day, Jake comes in to order a Get Well Soon! cake for his mom, and there is so much love in his descriptions that Amy's like... Damn.

He orders a multi-tier cake and brings in three messy crayon drawings as samples for how each cake layer should be decorated. (”Try not to look too impressed, but these are my earliest masterpieces from my days as a young kindergartner... I stole them from my mom’s fridge while she was napping yesterday.”)

He makes Amy promise on her favorite icing pen that she won’t forget the details on Graham Crackers’s shell. (”This was the last portrait I drew of my dear turtle before he got married and moved in with his wife. Do not ruin this, Amy!”)

She puts her heart and soul into decorating this cake (possibly even more effort than when she decorated her brother Luis’ wedding cake), and the photo of the finished product definitely gets filed in her portfolio of best works.

If Amy were to be completely honest, beyond all of Jake’s stupid requests, he’s actually one of the most Earnest and Pure people she knows.

He once overheard Charles stressing over a messed up delivery arrangement and offered to drive the cakes himself. (”Boyle, I can turn on my sirens and be there in no time!”)

He periodically brings coffee for everyone, not just Amy and Charles. He’s even got the janitor’s regular order memorized.

He got word that Nikolaj’s birthday was coming up, so he put in a secret order for a truck-themed cake. ("Is there a way you can make sure Charles doesn’t find out about this? It’s gotta be a surprise!!!”)

The first time Jake sees Amy in anything other than her chef’s coat is at Nikolaj’s birthday party, and it’s totally jarring for him.

He thought she looked pretty in her pristine white uniform with her hair in a neat bun, but when she’s in a red dress and her hair’s all shiny, soft, and let down like that... wow.

He def trips over his words for a good full minute, and Amy just giggles and does the Double Tuck.

Jake walks in one Saturday afternoon, and Amy immediately gets her notebook and pen out cause oh boy, this is gonna be another doozy.

After she says she’s ready to take down his order, he blurts out in one breath: “doyouwannagotothemuseumwithme?”

Amy may have been president of her high school’s stenographer’s club, but even she’s not fast enough to jot all of that down. ”Wait, slow down, I didn’t catch that. Did you say museum?”

Jake obviously did not mean for that to be on an actual cake, so he’s just like, “................... Ames.”

She looks up, and he’s got this shy adorable grin on his face, and then it hits her. “OH. OH. Uhm. Yes? Yes!! I- I’m off in 15??????”

Charles is watching this entire exchange from the kitchen (he’s got the door cracked open about an inch, just enough for him to hear everything) and he’s SQUEALING because America’s dream couple is finally getting together!!!!!!!!!!!

All the love to @the-pontiac-bandit and @jakelovesamy for helping me with some of these and to @elsaclack and @proofthatihaveaheart for listening to me yell about this! ♥♥♥

#b99 au #b99 hc #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago #jake x amy #charles boyle #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #my stuff

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gettinziggywithit · 7 years ago

Text

Getting To Know You: Part 3

Oh wow, part 3 already?! And it’s a bit longer? Shocking.

It took nearly half an hour to get sans back to the apartment. You were running solely on adrenaline and your roommate had to force you more than once to move as she looked the battered skeleton over. "[Y/N], if you're not going to help, then move." You glared at your roommate, but eventually moved to the side, staring down at the broken skeleton. "We need to get this jacket and shirt off, I can't even begin to tell what is and what isn't injured with all this...god, is it marrow???" She held up a pair of scissors and was going to go for his jacket, but you interrupted, "W-wait! Let me, let me just try to get it off. This meant something to him!" Your roommate sighed, but helped gently remove the tattered and bloodied jacket, making sure it didn't snag on his cracked radius.

The jacket had definitely seen better days. It was faded and had holes even before he got into the fight and you often wanted to ask if he would let you borrow it and patch it up. It was obvious that it had some sentimental value to sans as he was never without it. You may not be able to get the marrow stains out of it, but the least you could do was try and hand wash it and sew up the holes to make it more comfortable. "[Y/N], come look at this" You sat the jacket down on the chair and returned to the makeshift operating table. Your roommate had already cut through his red sweater and removed it, revealing the marrow disaster that lay beneath. You grabbed your reading glasses, knowing they helped with your eyesight just a little bit more, but what they revealed was horrifying. It didn't look like anything was completely broken in two, but there were fractures on nearly every rib.

But what your roommate was looking at was a red, gelatinous mass that sat just below his sternum. Was...was it a stomach? It was soft and warm when you poked it...so that's how he filled out his clothes. You were pretty sure this was breaking the no magic rule, but that could be asked about later, "Ok, ok, so what do we do first??" Your roommate was barely a month or so into her Emergency Responder job, but this was the first time she'd ever had to assess a monster's injuries. Thinking for a moment, she suddenly appeared to have an idea and ran off into her room. "Hey, where are you going!?" She came back not a second later with a small bag in her hand. "Alright, don't be upset that I didn't share these with you, but they are wicked expensive and the government still finds them illegal because of the magic ban bullshit." She opened up the bag and let 2 or 3 candies fall into her palm.

"CANDY?! HOW IS CANDY GOING TO HELP HIM!?", you screeched as she started unwrapping them and placed them into a cup on the table, "look, it's monster candy and it's supposed to help with something like this. I don't think it'll fully heal him, but we gotta start somewhere!" The three candies were unwrapped and your roommate began crushing them into a powder like substance before pouring some water in and mixing it up. "Ok, I need you to hold him up and let's see if we can get this in him." Just then, you realized you didn't quite understand how eating worked for a magical skeleton, but hoped it would help. You gently hoisted him up a little as your roommate pried his mouth open and tipped the glass forward to let the monster candy drink concoction flow.

Your breath held as you waited for the liquid to just drop out the back of his skull and onto your lap, but amazingly it did not. It...it just seemed disappear. "[Y/N]! Look!" You and her peered down and slowly, but surely, the smaller fractures began to fuse back together, a thin scar the only remnant showing that something ever happened. The bigger cracks were fusing together at a slower pace, but those would eventually have to heal on their own. Your roommate wrapped up the ribs with the bigger cracks and then fashioned a makeshift sling for his left arm. You stayed holding him in your lap, gently stroking his skull. Some cracks and lines weren’t healing and looked older than the injuries he sustained today. So many, including what looked like one big, deep slice across the ribs and sternum….like someone had slashed him with a knife or sword of some kind.

He started to come around, brows furrowing in confusion and pain, "Wha-wha? Where...where am I?" His sockets opened and he blinked a couple of times, the red eyelights focusing on your face. He looked around and realized he wasn't outside nor near his stand and he instantly tried to sit up, only earning streaks of pain to assault him. "Ah, fuck me! What the hell happened and where the hell am I?!" He looked down to see he was completely bare from his shorts up, "AND WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SHIRT AND JACKET!? WHADDYA DOIN' TA ME?!" He started to fidget around, trying to escape your grasp and you let go, instead grabbing for one of his hands, "Shh...shh...sans, you're safe. It's [Y/N] and you're in mine and my roommate's apartment. You...you were being attacked when I came out to visit you today." Sans grimaced as he tried to find a comfortable spot to lay. The table wasn’t going to be comfortable for him at all and you and the roommate picked him up, much to his disapproval and gently deposited him on the couch. He hissed as still healing ribs were jostled from the move. "Your shirt's pretty much gone, but the jacket's hanging up. I..I was going to try and get some of the marrow out and stitch up some of the holes." A blanket was brought over and you draped it over him, "now no moving that left arm till it's better set." He merely glared at you, "What makes ya think I gotta take orders from ya....FOUR EYES!"

Ah, there went the insults again, but again it wasn't anything you hadn't heard before. "Maybe I am, but I can at least see you better now and what lovely red pinprick eyes you have!", you answered back sarcastically. He made an attempt to get up again and you gently, but firmly placed your hand on his blanket covered sternum, "STAY. DOWN." Eyelights blazing, "DO I LOOK LIKE A DOG TA YA?!" You stared down at the spiked collar around his neck, before throwing a finger through the o-ring and tugging slightly, "Could've fooled me, Fido." With that, sans came alive with a flurry of insults before your roommate finally put a stop to it, "ALRIGHT, YOU TWO, ENOUGH. [Y/N], go deal with his jacket in your chair and you-" She turned her full attention to sans who was oddly enough, staring up at her wide eyed like she was a threat.

"You stay right where you're at! I don't have that much monster candy to go around and I'm not giving it all to your little stubborn ass!" He simply nodded and your roommate went away, most likely to put her stash back where she had it hidden. With a huff, you stood and yanked the jacket and spread it out on the table. There were several slice marks and rips on the body and arms of it and the fluff that lined the hood was starting to pull away from the outer material. This was going to be one hell of a job to make it wearable again, but after what he went through, he deserved at least this one act of kindness. You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of rags, some seltzer and lemon, and a fresh pot of water to help. The rest of the muffins were in a basket on the counter when you suddenly realized you left them in the snow.

After setting the cleaning items down, you brought a muffin back and handed it to him as a peace offering. "What the fuck is that?" You held it out to him, “it’s a muffin...a mustard muffin…” His sockets went wide with surprise, “a...a mustard muffin?” He eventually took it from your hands and sniffed it before opening his mouth and your own eyes widened as what only could be described as a red, serpentine tentacle emerged to lick at the top of it. “Holy schnikes, what is that?!” The appendage quickly drew back into his mouth, “What? My tongue?” He stuck it back out and wiggled it at you drawing a heated blush to your cheeks. He definitely noticed.

You quickly changed the subject, “Y-yeah, I made some to bring you, but I left the basket when I...I found you being attacked. What happened?” He took a bite out of it and again, his expression was one of surprise and then his sockets lidded as he finished it off in another bite. “Holy shit, kitten, that was delicious!” Kitten?! He must’ve realized his mistake because he went just about as red as you did and looked away. “Some assholes came around the stand wantin’ the tip jar. I told ‘em to fuck off and one of ‘em took the jar, the other pushed me to the ground, and the other trashed my stand.Then they all took turns beatin’ on me till ya showed up I guess.” You pulled his jacket into your lap and mixed the lemon juice and seltzer together to spray on the marrow soaked portions. He watched silently as you gently cleaned what you could and then took out your sewing kit and stitched up the holes. You held the hood up close to stitch the fluffed lining back on and when all was said and done, his jacket was mostly whole again. “Alright, we need to let it sit and dry out for a bit, but then it should be fine to wear.” You looked over and he was dazed, trying to stay awake. “Th-th-*yawns-thanks, Kitten” His sockets fully closed and he was out like a light.

Again with the ‘kitten’ name. You were going to have a serious talk when he was finally lucid about the pet names. You’d only allow it if you could call him sugar skull. That’d probably get him to stop. You hung the jacket up in a doorway and then pulled the blanket up and over him, it was so sad that you found him so adorable when he was passed out. With your glasses you could actually see him better and noticed he had a rounded skull with a perma-grin that had sharp teeth. A golden tooth with a crack above it stood out to you, but like everything else with the mysterious skeleton, its explanation would come in its own time. Your roommate finally emerged from her room, “Did the little shit finally pass out?” You nodded and she rolled her eyes, “out of everyone in the entire world, every single being and you went for the living skeleton.”

You tried to deny it, but she just put her hand to your face and laughed quietly, “don’t even try to hide it, [Y/N], the way you were protectively draped over him while l tried to help him was so telling.” Well great, that cat was out of the bag. You looked down and gently pet sans’ head when your roommate asked, “so what are we going to do with him?” You hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, “I think...I think we need to find his brother.” She shrugged, “great, so we’re looking for another skeleton then? Good thing we’re not near Halloween anymore or else there would have been tons of them. Tons of skeletons. Totally would’ve made the search difficult for us.” You stared at your roommate seeing the grin spread across her face while you face palmed, “Aw, look, even he enjoyed that one.” You turned and sure enough, a large grin was spread across sans’ face. He was like a pun radar, you swore it. “So, where do we start?” You looked away and twiddled your fingers, “yyyyyyyeah about that…” She crossed her arms and you know she was giving you the look. “Oh no you don’t, I’m not going out in the snow to search for him alone!” You continued to twiddle, “I can’t just leave him here and you’re the one with like 24/24 vision!” She shook her head, “that’s not even a real vision and you know it.” You huffed and put on your most pitiful expression, “pppppppppppppllllllllllleeeeeeeeaaaassssssssseeee?????”

After a moment, she finally scoffed, “ALRIGHT! Stop with the puppy dog eyes, I’ll go! Argh, where would I even begin to find him?” You thought back to one of sans’ conversations and remembered that he said that Papyrus worked as an assistant chief in the local monster patrol guard, but where was it that he hung around?? It was a bar of some sort, sans said he absolutely hated the food and the atmosphere, but if there was any criminal activity, it would be there. “The bar over by Ralph’s old supermarket!” Your roommate thought for a moment, “Grillby’s or something?” You snapped your fingers, “That’s it!” She sighed and went to put her jacket on, “ok so when I find his brother, what do I tell him?” You thought for a moment, if Papyrus was as arrogant and volatile like sans says he was, there really wouldn’t be anyway to explain the situation without him blowing his skull. “Just...just tell Papyrus his brother’s injured BY SOME OTHER DUDES, please make sure if anything is understood it’s that we did nothing and that we helped him back and healed him. We don’t need an angry skeleton raising hell here, we’re already not getting our deposit back.” She laughed as she grabbed her beanie and put her gloves on, “like I’m going to be scared of a tiny skeleton? Rrrrrrrrrrrright. Well, I guess I’m off. Keep the phone by you in case he wakes up or when I let you know I’m on my way back.”

With that, your roommate went out the door and you silently prayed that she would be alright.

“Good luck.”

Coming Up...

“Where do I find Papyrus?”

The purple flamed bartender merely smiled as he continued to pour out drinks for the other patrons. They stared at the lone human woman and whispered amongst them. A few had risen from their seats and drifted closer, not a good sign. She kept her guard up, but continued to question the bartender, “look, I just need to know where he is and I’ll be out of your way.”

He seemed to ignore her and began washing dirtied glasses, the monsters were closing in around her and she got the feeling maybe it was best to leave before it got dangerous. When a group of dogs at the front of the bar started to quarrel and fight, the door suddenly crashed open. A tall, scowling skeleton stalked in and the group of fighting dogs quickly ceased and scattered about. She turned and made eye contact with the imposing skeleton and he immediately started towards her. Behind the bar, Grillby merely chuckled,

“You do not find Papyrus, Human.”

“He will find you.”

#my writing #Undertrash #Underfell #uf sans #uf grillby #underfell sans x reader #part 3 #look out! here comes Papyrus!

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