#and ill probably drive my stupid little ass down two+ hours just to see him

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Birthday Cake

A/N: Suprise folks!!! *me laughing maniacally* The whole scenery for this fic somehow appeared in my head and I just COULDN’T let it slip away, so... My biggest inspo for that was @drawlfoy!! Remember her posting the fic where Draco and Reader work at McDonald’s and are total suckers in their job (arguing with the customers; preparing wrong orders; etc.)? Dee unfortunately, deleted this precious, but it’s stuck to my head ever since (lol lol, it’s the moment where Dee wants to get rid of something, but I kindly remind everyone it existed). Therefore I present to you the next Draco x Reader fic related to our fav fast-food rest. This time, however, they’re not working at the same workplace but... I'm going to stop here cuz I don't want to spoiler :P

**The second thing that triggered me to write this fic is the YouTube video I recently saw with a lady who orders the 'specials' appearing to be out of the menu list of McDonald’s, through the Drive-Through. She asked for a birthday cake, was laughed at a few times, but eventually got what she wanted. Applause for the attitude!!

About the fic (context, my bitches): ofc it’s the modern AU, non-magical world. Draco’s the worst boyfriend ever but always manages to turn things into their righteous place. 

Summary: The birthday is upcoming, and Draco is in a rush to think up an idea for a perfect gift. His ingenuity fails, however, and leaves Y/N very unsatisfied with a disaster that has been forged. 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: my brain playing a total psycho, language, alcohol, sexual undertones/allusions to sex, Pansy being too much of her self... deal...

Tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Such an unrestrained desire to strangle somebody you hadn't felt in a long time.

Really.

Today was your birthday, which you had been widely announcing for almost a whole month to people you might have accidentally forgotten about it. Having your boyfriend, Draco, on your mind in particular.

You doubted he would have the guts to omit your big day, though as repeatedly as he had done for a few years back. But something between foresight and the second sense of prevention told you to keep reminding him every day of the upcoming event, with a heap of birthday-themed emojis and uppercases in the messages.

Everything was planned out in your head: him picking you up from your house with the sharp-red cabriolet that he used only for special occasions; him driving the two of you to the fanciest restaurant he could find in town; him bestowing you with a nice-looking, golden necklace or a different piece of jewelry you had been suggestively pointing out in the store's exhibition; him booking up a hotel room for you two to celebrate.

Either way, that was much beyond your expectations, as it turned out. And now you were sitting in the front yard of your house, waiting for him to show up.

'If he was going to at all.' This thought invaded your mind for the last hour, try as might to subdue it. An hour you had been sitting tight, hoping it was only a delay caused by a traffic jam or other irrational explanation he could come up with. But you were deceiving yourself, you eventually presumed -- you had been checking up your phone every one minute, only to see if any message notification popped up on the screen, other than birthday wishes from friends who actually cared for you.

2.02pm: Nothing.

2.03pm: Susan 'Happy birthday bitch!'

2.04pm: Instagram notif. (Someone liked your photo, which you had posted before leaving your room, posing in front of the mirror in the best cocktail dress you could find in the wardrobe.)

2.05pm: Nothing yet again.

2.06pm: Still... Peace and quiet.

"Fuck it...Enough," you muttered under your breath, an annoying disillusionment falling like a heavy mile stone on your chest. Tears suddenly started sprinkling in your eyes at the regret, and you were very reluctant to admit that your friends were right -- Draco Malfoy was an egoistic, negligent, self-absorbed pri--

"Hi." You heard the raspy, panting voice says. "Sorry for the delay."

You blinked slowly, stupidly. You raised your head to assure yourself it was him. That his expression actually corresponded to his words and showed some kind of remorse for standing you up. But no... There he was: standing in front of you, plainly confident and unashamed, with his cocky smirk provoking you to slap him.

Oh, how much you craved to slap him right now. "Where to the fuck have you been?"

"I've tried to pick this up," he explained, simultaneously lifting up the paper bag he'd been carrying in his hand. The big, exclaiming letters 'McDonald's' with the brand's logo were printed on its exterior, and it was fully stuffed with something inside.

Not quite comprehending, you furrowed. You attempted to hide the venom in your voice, but somehow it found its way to leak out. "Couldn't you do that in advance?"

"Nope..." It was his turn to furrow, looking almost shocked with the question. And thanks to all those years of your relationship, you knew it was his piss-poor estimation of time taking over. "It was a last-minute surprise."

"Sounds like it," you commented irritably. "What's that?"

"Your birthday present, sunshine," he drawled happily, ignoring your remark. He sounded positively delighted and satisfied with himself at surprising you with that because he saw a slight crease of shock painting on your forehead. "Here you go."

You took his deposit out of his grasp, still quite unsure. What if his gift would only make a situation worse? Can it get any worse with Draco's total lack of tact? Yes. But it was only one way to find out.

Without even stealing a second glance at him, you ripped off all of the packaging that had been folded around, protecting the contents. You tried to do it carefully and without any impact of emotions revealing the way you felt inside, but your hands were shaking with rage, and you couldn't quite contain yourself. You had been highly aware you shouldn't have expected much from him, but still...

You wondered if the universe was playing against you.

There was a moment of tense silence as you struggled to deal with all the wrappings. Rather unfortunately, you wished you hadn't put so much effort in opening your so-called 'gift' because as you finally did, it only angered you more, seeing as the disappointment laughs at your face. And yes, as a matter of fact, the universe was against you today...

"Are you kidding me?" you asked in disbelief, fury reappearing in your eyes. "A birthday cake?! From McDonald's?" Ugly, little cake with the creepiest smiley face of a clown. It wasn't even fresh, you realized, when you smelled it and felt a musty reek of a freezer, it probably had been kept in. A confusing sense of sadness in your chest couldn't reach any higher at this point.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, detecting the wrath in your eyes. At that, you felt the dumbest urge to laugh and never stop. "I thought it'd be something original."

"Oh, I love it," you said sarcastically, a faint voice of hope telling you it was only a very bad joke was still lingering in your head. But it wasn't a joke.

"It's not just--" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I've been asking Blaise and Theo about any ideas. I told them, what you had said to me -- 'you didn't want anything fancy.' So we decided it's... something."

"Of course I didn't tell you I want anything, you dolt!" Your voice raised up almost two octaves, and the pulse sped up so fast it entailed a headache along. A neighbor from the opposite garden who was watering the flowers looked at you, startled, and eyes widened your exasperated tone. You didn’t care. "It's how it works: you don't tell other people you expect them to buy something!"

"But I'm your boyfriend. You shouldn't -- er-- feel uncomfortable to tell..."

"Exactly! As my boyfriend, you should have known!"

"Well... I didn't. If that's what's bothering you, we can...we can..."

"Stop." Listening to him and his pathetic excuses was the last thing you were going to do now. "What – why would you even – " You sputtered out, unable to process or express exactly what you were feeling. There was definitely anger and indignation. Curiosity, for another, as to why Draco would even fall for such foolish and ill-considered idea, and -- to the top of it -- hope it would make a good fit. And possibly, the last and most satisfying part, was the wicked impulse to throw the cake directly into his arrogant face, letting him taste his own medicine he had been serving you for years on each failed birthday.

"You know, for once, you could pay more effort and try doing something nice for me," you told him firmly, deflating to calm down your buzzing nerves.

"I've been tr--"

"Do you realize how much it costs me to pretend to be happy when you forget about me? Last year, I organized a big-ass party for your birthday, inviting over all of your friends and buying the best booze I could find to celebrate it properly," you said harshly and pretentiously, as you intended. "The best part is, you didn't even thank me." You stared at him, wringing your hands and expecting to perceive any trope of shame in his eyes. For the first time, you actually did.  

"Listen, about that--" he calmly attempted to cut off your monologue.

"No, you listen..." Did you really want what was upcoming next? Maybe it was about time. "Today, I decided I'm standing up for myself. So, for the last time, get out from my porch."

He bristled, the thunderstruck air hanging around him. "Because of the stupid cake?"

"What?! No! It's just... I feel like you don't give a damn about me anymore." Gulp formed in your throat, and the tears finally left your eyes at the consciousness of what was happening. "I think we both deserve some time."

Your eyes moved to his, and you almost wished you hadn't looked. He was watching you, with pursed lips and a pure mixture of every emotion: anger, sadness, resentment, pretension, dejection. The faintest of his flustered blushes appeared on his cheeks, and you suddenly wished you could hug him. "So you are putting us..." His finger pointed at him and you as if expecting clarification. "...on a break? Is that what it is?"

You were truly torn, to be honest. Becoming single on your birthday was the last wish you had for this day, but you felt a strong sense of adequacy and pride for building up the boundaries of tolerance. Besides, seeing as it was heading nowhere, it was only a matter of time that your relationship came to an end.  

Although, it hurt. A lot. "Yes."

You darted your eyes from him, not wanting to study his reaction in case it caused you to meltdown and jump to his embrace, apologizing endlessly for your words. You loved him. But you didn't regret what you had just said.

Something like a dry chuckle of disbelief escaped out of his mouth. "Is that what you really want?"

'No,' your thoughts prompted you instantly before you could even contemplate. 'I want you to say so many things you're never willing to say. But you don't know.'

So instead, you lied: "Yes."

All expressed, you spun around without peeking back and rushed into your room, already knowing there was no more sense in strives to make this day any better; all of it would bring only bad associations. It would be depressing, even more than it already was.

God, was it how the break-up pained? Because if so, you wanted to be deceased. The world spun suddenly, and you sank to your knees, shaking madly and doing your best to find your way back to your bed, located a few mere meters from you. Part of you felt numb, but your head was wide awake and alarming you that something in terms of a disaster had just happened. Because it did. The clutching in your chest was unbearable, and tears were dashing out of your eyes like a living waterfall, which made you bury your face in your hands. Never have you ever wanted to be so drunk before.

And so many questions rung up in your head at once.

Did you make a good decision? What if you are going to miss him, yet knowing you could never call? What about college -- are things about to get awkward?

No answers.

But you knew someone who would be able to reply to them.

With the blurred by tears vision, you struggled but managed to find your phone in the purse, and then clumsily scrolled through and tapped in your list of contacts before holding the phone to your ear.

Please answer, you begged. Please, please…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Pansy's voice roared from the other side of a line, as always, enthusiastic.

"Pansy." You tried to sound less brokenly than you were, feeling marginally worse at the reminder of your birthday. "Is Daphne around?"

"Ouch, you're a really nasty bitch sometimes, you know. I'm not goin' to point out today, but since you didn't let me end my wishes, I'll note that for the future reference." You were sure she was grinning at the teasing, seeing as much as she liked that. Normally, you wouldn't mind, but... "How--"

"Pansy, please..." you sobbed out, almost desperate to have someone to consult and share emotions with. Daphne -- contrary to Pansy, who could be very judgy sometimes -- was someone you had especially on mind now. "I need to talk to her."

You heard her sigh; the kind of sigh she used to either prove her resignation or concern. But, as much as it surprised you, she suppressed her curiosity and, without a second word, obediently handed the phone over to Daphne. At least, that's what you assumed because you heard a pause and subdued mutters in the background.

"Y/N?" the milder tone spoke up, and you felt suddenly very strange as if submerged in water of relief; relief to hear the familiar voice. That released you from keeping a distant attitude, and yet again, a sadness washed over you, triggering a loud wail to come out of your mouth. "Y/N, is everything alright?"

"No..." you sniveled, unable to collect yourself together. "I-I... We br-brok-e up."

"You and Draco?" Daphne asked, astonishment evident.

You nodded but then remembered she couldn't see you nor read your expression. So instead, you forced your vocal cords to work again. "Mhm..."

"What happened?"

Restoring the story in your brain again, you told her everything, still tearfully but much more coherently this time. You avoided the details, briefly skipping from one utterance to another, as your conversations had gone, and you were very much thankful she didn't press for more information about the prospect of the situation. If it hadn't been her sporadic gasps or loud inhales of breath, you would have almost presumed she wasn't listening. However, she was, and as soon turned out, Pansy was as well.

"That's bananas!" Pansy shouted somewhere from the back as you had ended, and despite your gloom, you giggled quietly at her comment.

"Shush," Daphne tried to silence her, covering up the fact she had put you on the speaker. You didn't mind because you knew Pansy, who would definitely expect Daphne to cite the whole conversation if needed. But knowing Daphne as well, you could bet she flushed more than she would want to at that point. "So it all started because of the cake?"

"And the delay," you added. "But it's not just about that, obviously. It feels like... he completely stopped caring. And I don't want to be stuck in a relationship where everything is about sex and having fun only. Draco wasn't looking for a commitment, which..."

"Sucks,"ended this time Pansy unhesitatingly, who wasn't now screaming from the other part of a room but openly participating in the discussion.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"As for me, I think he might love you more than you know, Y/N." It was Daphne talking again, and she sounded positively convinced about her view as for someone who had hardly exchanged any word with Draco for the past few years. As if reading your thoughts, she continued. "I've observed you a lot. I know he might seem unemotional, but it's you who discovered him. That must require a lot of trust, you know."

You contemplated, and some of the memories and images from your first encounter run across your brain, try as might to suppress it: spotting each other at the party; binging some whisky shots together; flirty teasing; the very masculine scent of cologne; and then... more spicy recollections -- eager lips pressing against each other; against each others' necks; against other parts of the body; stripping off the clothes in the passionate haste...

Receiving a long moment of silence, Daphne took a second chance and asked. "And what's with you? Do you want to end it?"

It felt like standing before the oracle of truth. Therefore, you couldn't deny it in front of yourself. "No."

"So what're you still doing there?" commented Pansy impatiently, and you could imagine her rolling the eyes. "Get out and find him!"

She was right. You will.

XOXOXOXO

"I thought I'd find you here..."

No. Actually, you didn't. 

You had tracked Draco's phone with your own one with some help of an app that, as the two of you had established still in the relationship, would be a good idea in case of an emergency. That in itself proved to be more than helpful, believing that your argument may be pinned as something in terms of an emergency, right?

So having access to his location, you had found out he was in the park where he had taken you on the first date, shortly after dinner, to watch the sunset that, as he had described, 'was a typical cliche from every romantic movie.'

But you had fallen for that. So much.

You hadn't been aware the place had actually some meaning for him until now, and that... God, that he had even remembered it. Time showed, however, that it indeed did, to which your heart reacted with a happy jolting. But also with a nasty sting of nostalgia following shortly after.

Yet, that only had encouraged you to make up your mind and go looking for him, which hadn't been such a difficult task per se. He was sitting on the bench, in the shade of a tree, and hiding his a little too delicate skin from the sun rays. As soon as he had heard your voice, his gray eyes flew up to see you standing a few meters away.

"What are you doing here?" was the immediate question that tumbled out of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, and to your surprise, he didn't even look angry or sad with you. Nothing near the edge; actually, almost something like the amusement was painting on his face.

"Aren't you mad with me?" you asked intrigued, completely forgetting about his question.

He frowned. "Why would I be?" His tone was so mild that you weren't sure if he was referring to the double meaning; but then he smirked playfully and said, "Besides, I knew you were coming."

"Wha-- How?" you asked, eyes dilating a fraction, in shock.

He smirked, pointing at his phone in an explanatory manner. After a moment, you finally figured out what he meant: the app must have registered he had been tracked and that your phone was trying to find his. At this notice, you reacted with a wave of flush, suddenly regretting your previous lie. His smile only widened at your expression. "Wanna sit? It's plenty of room here."

"Mhm..." You nodded, pleased to accept his offer, and walked over to the bench, doing your best to hide the evident embarrassment on your face. You felt strange he had taken you with such ease, seeing as merely two or three hours ago, you had burst at him like a cram-full volcano of unspoken emotions.

Draco shifted a package from his side, making more space for you to sit, and it took you a moment to realize it was a McDonald's cake from earlier. Everything started from that -- a stupid, little piece of cake which stood up between...

You shook the thought away, taking a seat next to him, close enough to smell his sandalwood cologne. "You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded you. "What's so important to make you track my phone?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" You rounded your face to him, flustrated, leaning at the backrest of a bench. "That's why I came. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh... Couldn't you call?"

You sighed. "I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me after...you know... our quarrel," you said half-despondent, half-desperate, watching your feet as if it were the most interesting thing to peer at now. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know," he said. Out of nowhere, he was gently grasping your palms which forced you to look up directly into his intense gaze. His eyes were swirling like molten silver at you. "But I should be apologizing, love. I made a mistake, okay?" His hands traveled all across to your tense shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "I know I should be more... affectionate with you. And this was...dumb. A dumb mistake. With that cake. But I'll try to be better if you give it another shot."

He looked so serious that you instantly believed him. You wanted to actually, with all force of longing, which grew up too rapidly in you when he wasn't around. Draco was a fool, you could easily say. But he was your fool, which was a thing you couldn't be more proud of.

Peeking slowly in the other direction, you asked, out of the topic, "You remembered the place?"

"Of course," he puffed jokingly, smiling. "Our first date. Officially our place from then on."

"Right..." You smiled back.

Honestly, the mere fact that he had called this spot 'yours' warmed up your heart, and you felt yourself grinning at his never-before-discovered emotionality. To assure yourself you weren't the only one caring, it was all you needed to hear.

The whole moment was intense, and now, you realized, is when you should have hugged him. Kissed him. Said something back at his sincere endearment.

But instead, spotting plastic cutlery next to your 'gift', you asked, "So what's the taste of the birthday cake?"  

And you knew he had caught the subtext of your playful inquiry. And you knew that soon you would work things out again. But, as for now...

"I thought you would never ask."

XOXOXOXO

A/N: Looooooool. Such a drama-comedy, right? And I could easily say It feels like 50% Draco-x-Reader / 50% Draco-x-BirthdayCake... But whatever (2am is working like a drunken bud, folks). Happy beginning of August :)

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.4k (Chapter 2)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: This chapter is going to be a little different! There’s angst, there’s drama, there’s smut... You will find out what I meant by ‘complicated relationships’ 🤭 Don’t forget to share your thoughts^^

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo​ @baeklightsx​ @wooya1224​ @baekklove​

Chapter 2. Get him back

The day he left you it was pouring, and in your mind, it rained ever since. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks flew by. You did everything on autopilot, without thinking or differentiating between tasks. Everything around you was a grey mess, and you couldn’t maintain a single thought in your head, not one thought that didn’t have something to do with the breakup.

Was it even that? He just left, telling you that it was ‘for your own good’. Asking for no opinions. Frankly, you were angry with him. You would've been furious, but it was hard to tap into your irritation when it hurt so much in your chest. For the first time in your life, you realized that you were gone too far. So far, that you felt like a piece of you was missing now. The one you’d possibly never get back.

You also realized that you belonged fully to that friend circle as well — there wasn’t even anyone for you to talk to anymore, or wallow with, which made your sorry ass feel even more pathetic. Your entire world revolved around your protective boyfriend of three years, and now that he was gone it felt as unsafe as ever. Who knows, maybe it was your sixth sense alerting you as to what was to come.

It happened over a month after your last encounter with Baekhyun.

You were lounging in the campus library, mostly because your weeks of heartbreak caused you to miss a few deadlines, so now you had to take additional assignments to do well at the finals. Having no inspiration, or better yet, no one to hurry to, made you stay there for long hours, barely managing to get one task completed at a time.

The space was almost empty since it was rather late, and looking around you suddenly felt a tinge of nostalgia. Muttering that you should get ahold of your stupid self, you walked slowly towards the tall aisle with your useless book. In the labyrinth, you wandered for a bit, reminiscing of the first interaction with your… now ex? Your first boyfriend? Your first love?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you opted for walking further as if surrounded by books you could somehow block your bubbling feelings out.

A strange sound caught your attention.

No idea why, you kept walking towards it, soon stepping around the corner and freezing on the spot.

Only a few feet away there was a couple making out. The girl was pressed harshly into the shelves and grunted, as her partner shoved one hand underneath her shirt to squeeze her breast, and his other one grasped her neck, adding to the obscenity of their misplaced passion. You were ready to flush tomato red and vanish on the spot when you noticed something… familiar.

That side profile.

You would never mistake it for anyone else’s.

Wide-eyed in shock, you almost jumped when the male turned around, dark irises foreign to you. His eyebrow raised slightly as he took in your distress with half-lidded eyes, not even bothering to stop groping the girl.

‘B- Baekhyun?’ You said in such a tiny voice that you barely even heard yourself.

The sound of your book dropping to the floor ripped you out of the stupor, and you turned around. Out of the labyrinth you ran, not even bothering to put your belongings back into your bag neatly. You simply grabbed everything from the table and kept running. The surroundings were blurry, but you could see one thing clearly – his lustful eyes, mocking your naivety.

It hurt too much. Unable to hold your tears till you make it home, you found yourself locked in the stall of the nearest bathroom. The way you cried there was almost physically painful, and you struggled to catch enough air as you did. Nor did you care enough to prevent yourself from making noises. Your whole body was shaking with your sobs, and you weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t gone crazy just then. From seeing what you saw. From reopening the still-hurting wounds and seasoning them richly with salt.

However long it took you to dehydrate yourself with the seeping sorrow, you managed to stop, hiccupping only every now and then. Finally shoving your laptop and notes into your bag, you got out of the stall. Walking up to a mirror on wobbly legs, you gasped at your puffy face and red swollen eyes. Not that you really cared, but it was quite late, so you had good chances of sneaking out and getting home unnoticed.

Unless someone would be purposefully waiting for you to show your face, of course.

You took notice of the dark figure across the hall momentarily after exiting the bathroom. Turning the other way, you increased the pace of your steps, almost breaking into running speed to put some distance between the two of you.

‘Hey,’ a voice called from behind, and you felt a hand grabbing your upper arm to stop you.

The nerve he had.

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ You barked at him, ripping away from his grasp fiercely.

He blinked, letting go, and you almost hiccupped again at the sight of his hair – even more silvery-white now than when he left you, slightly unkempt (from the prior activities, no less). As he opened his mouth to say something, you beat him to it.

‘Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. You make me sick!’ You spat, wanting to both claw at his beautifully sculpted face and to snivel pathetically again. Instead, you turned around and took off before he gathered himself enough to try initiating a conversation again.

Because… What the fuck was he thinking?

***

You fell ill. It probably wasn’t unrelated to what happened at the library, but you became so feverish that your roommate was on the verge of driving you to the hospital. Three days later your fever finally broke, however, you felt weak and drained and depressed for another week afterwards.

Staying at home, you kept rewinding back to the ‘event’. How could he? Coming back like that, and not even having the decency to not screw around right under your nose. You were repulsed by what you saw, and it was almost hateful how the heaviness in your chest only worsened. The bitterness of the situation added to it – he lied to you, just to be with someone else weeks, or, perhaps, even days, hours after. Maybe all of it was a lie, you didn’t know anymore.

This Baekhyun… You didn’t think you’d ever known him.

The subsequent week you avoided all of the crowded areas of the campus, dreading that you’d have to face him again. It would be impossible to maintain your calm in that case, so you took all of the possible precautions. But what could you have done if he was looking for you?

Upon your following encounter, you failed your attempt to vanish out of his sight the way you did before. It was essentially you walking into a trap, as you headed home rather late after finally squeezing your last important assignment out on paper. Not giving the outside world a single moment of attention, you stopped at the top of the stairs to put your phone into your bag and zip it up.

‘Aren’t you a mystery woman, Y/N,’ the voice almost made you drop your stuff.

You glanced up, taking notice of the murky figure, leaning onto a nearby tree. As he began walking in your direction, you turned on your heels and took off. It felt stupid to run from him like this, but you absolutely did not want to break down in front of him. You wanted to preserve at least some dignity.

As you flew down the stairs, you stumbled and almost dove headfirst to the ground. Thankfully, a swift limb wrapped around you before you could do that.

‘Are you dumb?’ He exclaimed into your ear.

‘Let go of me!’ You writhed in his hold, trying to free your body from the illusive familiarity of his touch.

‘You’re a danger to yourself! What the fuck,’ he swore under his breath, releasing you at once.

‘I told you to leave me alone. Do whatever you want, just stay out of my freaking life, Baekhyun!’ You yelled in his face, fuming from his shameless behavior. Why was he acting like nothing was even wrong with this?

‘Unbelievable. Your twin screws someone over, and you’re the one held accountable,’ he rolled his eyes.

Twin… what?

‘What are you talking about?’ You asked in bewilderment.

‘I believe, introductions are in order. I’m Baëkhyun, nice to meet you.’

***

That was… embarrassing. So embarrassing.

You had no idea there was, well, a live copy of Baekhyun walking around. And even though your ex-boyfriend was secretive, you couldn’t believe he left something like this out. Were you an actual joke to him?!

Baëkhyun said they weren’t particularly close. He explained to you that he hadn’t seen his twin in years, and his friends helped him obtain the little knowledge of his whereabouts that led him here. Thinking he could find Baekhyun by asking around he… got ‘involved’ with a girl or two. Or a dozen, who knows? But, apparently, your reaction the first time you’d met piqued his curiosity. When you flushed at the memory, apologizing profusely, he only said that he found it odd and strangely cute, the way you got upset with him.

‘I’m not as great of a guy as Baekhyun,’ he shrugged. ‘Not that I’m trying to be, anyways.’

You frowned.

After the way he left you, Baekhyun was not at the top of your ‘greatest people of all times’ list either. You could understand why your new acquaintance mentioned this, you had witnessed enough to gather that he was not at all well-behaved. Also, his ways of extracting information… Not very professional, to say the least. But who were you to judge? Now that you’d learned that he wasn’t your ex, you were genuinely ashamed of the hysteria of the past couple of weeks.

But Baëkhyun was different.

When he got your number and promised to text, you didn’t think much of it. You hummed and rolled your eyes – as if that was going to happen. Yet he surprised you by sending a quick message the following week. And then… you just kept talking. Which went on for a while, whilst you’d grown slightly addicted to it. Somehow, Baëkhyun became the only person who could take your mind off of his twin. So, even when you finally went on the long-awaited summer break, you stayed in touch with him. And not only via text – you’d been seeing each other on a regular basis.

Randomly at first – you’d just bump into him somewhere around the university premises, and he’d then suggest grabbing coffee. But as it progressed, you ended up inviting him over for dinner. Partially because you felt acutely lonely with your roommate gone, and partially because… you missed him. It was hard to put a finger on it – you’d initially thought that it was just misplaced longing for Baekhyun that pushed you towards his twin, and it felt so wrong. Almost like you wanted to use him to soothe the ache in your heart that had been bothering you ever since your ex-boyfriend had left.

Yet Baëkhyun seemed so magnetic. He hypnotized you with his blue eyes, which changed from the icy light color to dark, almost black, and were just as sharp as his twin’s. And his sassy smirk – the one he had plastered across his face almost always. Baëkhyun wasn’t warm like Baekhyun, yet there was still something about him that had you walking willingly into his trap. Maybe it was the mysterious glint in his eyes as he looked down at you or the way he sized you up whenever he caught a glimpse of you, like you were his prey. Being alone with him felt both dangerous and exciting, and you kept fooling yourself, basing your blind trust on nothing but his relation to your ex.

You never noticed how quickly he managed to build trust between you. And how you didn’t even know much about him, yet you did tell him a lot. Like that one time, he asked you where you thought Baekhyun was.

‘Wouldn’t I like to know,’ you chuckled, sadness in your voice. ‘He just left. I don’t think he even kept his phone.’

‘I always said he was the dumb one of the two. And to think that he’s the strategist,’ he snorted, splayed on your couch comfortably.

You looked at your hands in your lap, subconsciously calming yourself by playing with your fingers.

‘Stop,’ you shivered as his palm covered your fidgety hands. ‘Stop thinking about him.’

Eyes traveling to his face, you caught a glimpse of the frown that formed there.

And then he kissed you. Out of the blue, giving you no time to think or pull away.

And you let him. Grabbing at the soft leather of his pants, you allowed him to do as he pleased with you. Baëkhyun tasted familiar, though his kissing was anything but – rough and messy, lots of tongue and teeth, making your head spin with flaming passion. You didn’t resist when he pulled you into his lap, or when he ripped your clothes off, item by item. He was not asking and you were not thinking. It didn’t feel like something you should stop at the time. Rather, you thought you would’ve cried had he paused for longer than a second, so you kept clinging to him in response.

The demanding grip he had on your thighs only made you crave it more, lust seeping into your system as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rolled your hips into his. He emitted a deep sound, helping you grind on him.

‘Good girl,’ he gritted into your lips, landing a slap or two on your ass along the way.

As you kept going, your bare breasts grazed his skin, and your panties became soaked and sticky. You were probably flushed rosy red as you chased the tight feeling in your lower abdomen, his eyes hungrily taking in your frenzy. He slapped you again, a sharp hit resonating through you like electricity.

‘Baëk,’ you half-moaned. ‘Please fuck me-’

You couldn’t even believe that you were begging him like that, out loud. But the desperation grew as your body threw itself at him, demanding release.

He moved your panties out of the way, fingers instantly getting wet with your arousal.

‘Such a needy little slut,’ he murmured, making you shiver.

It was all new. The name-calling, the manhandling, the way he bit harshly into your lower lip and tugged at your hair. And somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

He didn’t waste much time to prep you, opting for taking his already hard length out and running the tip between your folds, making you jolt and cry out, nails digging into the back of his neck.

‘Sink on my cock and take what you want. Like a bad girl would.’ He addressed in a low voice, smearing the remainder of your lipstick over your mouth with his thumb. ‘Wanna be a whore for me?’

‘Yes,’ you muttered, and he smacked you on the ass again, emphasizing that you needed to be louder. ‘Yes!’

He let go of your hips, hands resting on your legs, allowing you to slam down on your own. You whimpered at the slight burn but kept going. Moving this fast wasn’t the way you were used to doing it, but all the more exciting for that. Using his shoulders to steady yourself, you worked your hips hard. A sheen of sweat on your chest glimmered as you increased the pace, wailing as his tip nudged at your cervix. He watched you with his dark blue eyes, hands kneading your ass, and filthy mouth guiding you.

‘Squeeze your tight little hole.’

Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain the tiresome pace, yet held onto the sensation of his girth pressing against your walls as he glided in and out of you.

‘Ah fuck, Baëkhyun!’ You moaned, feeling the tickle of perspiration making its way down your abs.

‘I know you’re close.’ He licked his lips seductively. ‘Want me to help?’

‘Yes, yes, please,’ you keened, leg almost cramping from the uncomfortable position.

‘Leave your begging for another time, baby. Like I said, if you want something, you should take it.’

You whined, head spinning at the suggestion. His eyes, expectant, traced the stubborn crease between your brows while you kept rocking your hips. Then, you did the first thing that came to your blurry mind. Your hands reached up to grasp his hair and pull hard, tilting his head back and leaving the long column of his neck exposed for the attack of your lips. Sucking a bruise on it harshly, you then used your teeth to ensure he’d have a bright mark in a few hours. Creeping up his neck and his jaw, you licked at his lower lip, and then into his mouth – like an animal would.

‘Oh,’ he smirked, hands seizing you and holding you down, with him snug inside you. ‘So, my good girl is not as innocent as she seemed?’ He teased, the lustful glint in his eyes boosting your confidence to the level of insolence.

‘Shut up,’ you replied firmly, sliding off of him and flopping backwards to finally get some circulation in your legs. ‘Stop slacking off and make me come, you asshole.’

His eyes flashed at your brazen words. Shoving you roughly until you were flat on your back, he grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you closer to him. Instantly you cried out as he landed two consecutive slaps on your pussy, holding his heavy hard-on at the base. Pleased with your reaction, he did it again, not saying another word before he bottomed out inside you. A new wave of arousal washed over you, and you clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t even think to spare you the morning soreness as he nailed you like an actual whore.

‘Ah right there, right there- oh fuck, Baëkhyun,’ you sobbed, clawing at his flexed arm, when he placed one of your legs over his shoulder and leaned forward, basically stretching you open for himself.

This position made you feel vulnerable, like you had no choice but to take everything he was giving you, but it was what you needed. His every thrust resonated inside, making your muscles clench, and ripping more curses and moans out of you. Even though his pace was rather brutal, there wasn’t too much pain along with it – Baëkhyun knew all the right spots.

Mouth agape, you arched your back in silent agony, and a few more hits of his thighs later came so hard that it almost made you pass out on the spot. The hand over your mouth muffled your scream, and he let your leg slide off of his shoulder, pressing his palm against it to keep you in place and prevent you from closing your knees.

Muscles contracting uncontrollably, you whimpered at his continued thrusts as you became too sensitive from the drawn-out pleasure, tears soaking your lashes by the time he finally pulled out.

Baëkhyun grunted lowly, and you opened your eyes to witness him jerk himself off at the sight of your swollen, fucked out pussy, not even blinking until thick ropes of his semen painted your lower belly.

Despite having just performed a thorough fucking, he lowered himself on his elbow slowly and brushed the rogue strands of hair away out of your eyes.

‘You’re a naughty one. I love it,’ he murmured, positioning one of his hands on your neck as he kissed you deeply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to be in control.’

And so, you let yourself fall down the rabbit hole. And there was no telling what you’d gotten yourself into.

>> Chapter 3

A/N: Whooo, Baёk is here, stirring some kind of trouble, isn’t he? 🤭 Our poor Y/N-ie is walking on thin ice. What do you think of their relationship? Feels a little bit like cheating, right? Technically it isn’t. But still, the darkness is always pretty seductive...

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of My League [Part 1]

Pairing: High school!Spencer Reid x Popular!Reader

Word count: 3.7k (god i don’t shut up do i)

Summary: Spencer begins tutoring you in chemistry, and the two of you bond (I would say no pun intended but fuck it that was GOOD so I’ll say pun intended)

Warning(s): Mentions of bullying, mental illness, some swearing, I made one joke about herpes??? sorry if thats a sore spot with anyone, light angst and pining, Reader POV

Author’s Note: Here it is, folks!! The first official part! I’ so grateful for all the feedback I got on the prologue, I’m glad y’all are liking it, I hope you like this part just as much!! Next part I’m gonna have some baby spencer, and by that I mean whole ass adult spencer that just looks baby

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

You absolutely despised chemistry. It’s boring. It’s simultaneously stupid and ridiculously complicated. You weren’t dumb, you were a decent student in all your other classes, but science was never your strong suit. You preferred literature over litmus paper any day. Unfortunately, your failing grade was bringing down your entire GPA, just below the requirement for you to stay on the cheerleading squad. Your coach recommended you get a tutor, or else you were off the team. So you went to the library to see the peer tutoring program, and all of them were booked. The next best thing would be the kid genius in your class. He was probably a better first choice, honestly, but you figured he’d be booked with other students too.

He wasn’t like other kids in your class, not just because he actually cared and was a good student, he was also twelve years old. The kid was a prodigy. He was bullied a lot because of this because no one really understood him. That’s probably why he looked so terrified when you approached him after class one day.

“Hey, Spencer!”

His eyes grew wide as he stared back at you, saying nothing.

“I was just wondering if you were available for tutoring?”

“Oh, uh, um, y-yeah, in chemistry?”

“Yeah, what are your rates like? Like say we do an hour every other day, how much would that be?”

“Oh! N-no charge.”

“Really?”

“The first couple of sessions can be a trial run, I don’t want your money if you’re not benefiting from it.”

That made you smile, this kid was so nice and you just wished that people actually cared about that instead of the dumb shit they bullied him for. Sure, he was skinny and short and dorky and you know, a literal twelve-year-old boy, but if someone would take time to know him, they’d see he’s a good kid.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t wanna waste your time if you have other students.”

“I don’t, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great! Are you free after school today?”

He nodded and avoided all eye contact before scurrying out of the room to his next class.

~~~

You met up later in the library. You greeted each other politely with simple hi’s and hey’s and nothing more. Then it was time to pour over your books for an hour and try to force the puzzle pieces into place and hope something finally clicked. Balancing molecular equations physically hurt. Just when you thought you got it all right, Spencer reminded you that you still had to balance the oxygen, which was always bonded with something else, which threw off the whole equation. Every time you made a mistake you just let out a groan and set your head on the table.

“It’s a lot of math, a lot of people have a hard time with it, don’t feel bad.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not! It’s an easy mistake.”

“You don’t make mistakes like that.”

“That’s because I’ve been taking advanced math classes for the past two years, I’m good at this stuff.”

“You’re good at everything, you're a literal genius.”

“There are people who aren’t geniuses who are good at this sort of thing, just look at Johnny Abrams in our class. He answers every question Mrs. Gustin asks and I once saw him put his backpack on his car’s roof and start driving ‘cuz he forgot it was there. He’s just been practicing. That’s why we’re here, right?”

He always reassured you. Always told you that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb. He always smiled when you got questions right and told you you were doing a good job. When your hour was up, you said goodbye and went home. 

Spencer’s mini lectures aside, most of your sessions were sparse in the conversation department. The first time he went off on a side about some chemistry facts, you couldn’t keep up. You just sat there, jaw hanging while he went into detail about saponification, which wasn’t even in this lesson.

“Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Did we learn that in class? Cuz if we did, I’m screwed.”

“No, not yet at least.”

“How do you just… know that?”

Spencer avoided your eyes once again, something he did more than spouting random facts, “I read a lot.”

That’s how it happened the first time. All it took was you asking one question about different types of reactions for him to launch into another spiel. You figured you’d have to know it at some point, so you started writing down whatever you could catch from his fast-paced speech, taking notes in bullet points.

“And that-- Oh. Y-You don’t need to do that, that’s not even on the curriculum.”

“Well, I gotta keep up with you somehow, right?” You glanced up from your page and flashed an almost challenging smirk as you saw him stifle a smile as he avoided all eye contact with you, as per usual. He then cleared his throat and got back to the actually assigned chapter.

The more he went off on tangents, the more he realized you weren’t stopping him. He was actually able to make chemistry sound interesting to you, which is strange, but it was easier to understand through how he explained it all. Something told you that he wasn’t used to having someone listen to what he said, because he just lit up when he talked about this stuff. He was clearly passionate about it, so why would you make him feel bad about it? He always apologized, but you always reassured him it was no big deal. 

You didn’t know it at the time, but the kid was falling hard. This pretty, older girl was paying attention to him and didn’t think he was annoying? The bar may have been on the floor for young Spencer, but you were perfect to him. Eventually, he was able to look you in the eyes when you spoke to one another, he even smiled at you when you joked with him. That was another thing: you joked with one another now. You both warmed up to one another as your sessions continued. You said hi to each other in the hallways, you ruffled his hair as a greeting, he accepted your high-five requests every time you got something right.

You still didn’t talk outside of class much, which is why he was caught so far off guard by you calling his name from across the cafeteria as you approached his table.

“Hey, dude! Is it cool if we squeeze in an extra session today? I got a test tomorrow.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem, but, uh, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have practice after school?”

You did. And you had to be there because you had a competition this weekend.

“Yeah, I was wondering if we could meet after?”

“When does it end?”

“Five.”

“Library closes at four.”

“I know, but would it be too much of a hassle if I just… Pick you up tonight and we head back to my house to study?”

You could physically see his brain shut down in his eyes. After he realized he needed to respond, he picked his jaw up off the floor and gulped hard.

“Or you can stay after and hang out at practice and I can just drive you home?”

“Y-Yeah, um, yeah, tha-that works, I can, uh, yeah, we can do that.”

Spencer brought his books and homework and tried his hardest to not make it obvious he was staring at you while you danced. You looked like you were having so much fun and he loved seeing you happy and smiling with your friends like that, it was hard for him to look away and focus long enough to read a sentence, which is saying something, considering it does not take him long to read a sentence. 

After practice wrapped up, you told him to go wait by your car while you changed out of your uniform. The girls in the locker room were talking just as loudly as always, only this time, it was about something you actually cared about hearing.

“I mean, really, what was that little creep doing watching us today?” You heard one girl sneer.

“So fucking gross, I don’t wanna know where his prepubescent head was.” Another girl laughed.

You had to step in. You had to say something.

“I’m his ride home. He’s my chemistry tutor and I have a test tomorrow, so back off the kid, he didn’t do shit to you anyway.”

The squad learned to watch their mouths around you after that.

~~~

The neon glow of the golden arches shone through your car’s windows as you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru line.

“This isn’t your house,” noted Spencer, sounding confused.

You grinned, “Oh, shit… no way! Wow! I’m so glad my tutor is a genius! I would have never guessed this was not my family home!”

He let himself laugh for a moment, “Okay, okay, fine. Why are we here?”

“Uh… to get food? Duh.”

“But what about your food at home?”

“My mom’s visiting my dad, he works in D.C., and I haven’t gotten a chance to go grocery shopping this week, so I can’t cook for you. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

“No, I insist, it’s almost dinner time. Lemme get you something. As a thank you for squeezing in an extra cramming sesh?”

“It’s fine! Really.”

“Hey, Reid, come on,” you attempt to stifle a stupid giggle as you gesture to the rather large window displaying the playroom inside, “you are a guest in my home!”

Spencer shakes his head and chuckles, but doesn’t dare let you think he found you funny, “I’ll have chicken nuggets.”

“Happy meal?”

He tried to look offended at your clarification, but he quickly dropped the facade, “Yes. Extra fries, please.”

“Of course, buddy.” You pulled up further to the ordering station, catching a glimpse at the menu and the ads they had displayed on it, “Oh no way! They have Strawberry Shortcake toys! I used to collect those when I was a kid!”

Spencer saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but smile at your childlike excitement, “Do you want my happy meal toy?”

You bit your lip and hesitated before throwing all shame to the wind and saying yes. Because it was Spencer. He got excited over chemistry, he had no right to judge you on your old Strawberry Shortcake doll collection.

After you got your food, you drove back to your house, and you ate together at your kitchen island while Spencer quizzed you on the last chapter. He had asked you eighteen questions so far, and you had answered all of them correctly. 

“Okay, this last one is for the Strawberry Shortcake--”

“Her name is Orange Blossom.”

“Whatever, this last one is for the Orange Blossom toy: Which type of reaction is represented by this equation?” He showed you his notebook where he had written a molecular equation.

“Substitution.”

“Correct! Now balance it.”

Your shoulders slouched as the pride drained from your body.

“Please don’t make me.”

“This is going to be on the test, Y/N, you have to know it.”

“What’s one wrong question, really?”

“You and I both know she’s not going to put just one balancing question on the test.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, grabbing a pencil and sliding his notebook closer to you. You worked it out after a few minutes, but everything looked right, and judging by Spencer’s proud grin, everything was.

He reached for the figurine, still in the plastic bag, and handed it to you, “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, Y/N.”

You took Orange Blossom from his hands and danced around the kitchen with it, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of confidence you gained from nailing this practice session. You heard Spencer’s small laugh from behind you, causing you to turn around and face the boy as he lovingly mocked you.

Studying at your place became a regular thing after that, even when your mom was home. She loved him. She always invited him for dinner if she was home. He rarely took her up on the offer, but it was nice having him around the house with you. Study sessions turned into just plain hanging out. You spent more time bonding over Doctor Who than chemistry some nights, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

When Alexa Lisben invited him to meet her at the football field you were skeptical. You had good reason to be. She was never very nice to you or Spencer. You were able to be civil with her for the sake of the cheerleading squad, but something about her just didn’t sit right with you. You tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed offended at the notion that Alexa would do something horrible to him. How dare you imply that the only reason someone would be interested in him would be to pull a fucked up prank?

“I’m not like you, Y/N, I don’t have a line of people waiting around for a date, no one’s ever had a crush on me before, and-and now that someone other than you is being nice to me, you’re telling me that they have some sort of ulterior motive?”

“Spencer. I know these girls, I’ve seen the guys they go for--”

“And I’m not like them?”

“No! You’re a sweet kid, you’re nothing like those guys and they’re gonna take advantage of that.”

“I really wish everyone would stop saying I’m just a kid!”

“You’re not! That came out wrong--”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m going whether you want me to or not, so if you really want to keep babying me, by all means, stay after and wait with me.”

“I don’t wanna baby you!”

“So stop it!”

You didn’t want to fight with him anymore, you weren’t his mother. “Ok, Spencer, fine. I’m sorry. You should go. How about you meet me in the library after and you can tell me all about it over McDonald’s? My treat.”

He warmed up and agreed.

So you waited in the library until four, and then you started to get worried. You went to grab something from your gym locker before you left to look for him and heard some girls from the squad gossiping about “the little dork.” Your blood started to boil as you heard the way they talked about Spencer. Your jaw only clenched harder as you recognized one of the girls’ voices as Alexa Lisben’s.

You poked your head around the lockers that divided the aisles and tried to manage a calm voice, “Hey Alexa? Spencer actually said he was meeting up with you today, do you know where he is?”

She just laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually care about that loser.”

“He’s my friend.” All attempts to remain level-headed were tossed aside, “Where the fuck is he, what did you do to him?”

You could feel yourself starting to cry. It’s your fault, you weren’t there, you tried to warn him, but now you don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking or--

“Check the field.”

You sprinted out to the football field and saw him stripped down to his briefs, blindfolded, and tied to a goal post. You could kill Alexa. You actually considered turning right around and unleashing hell on that locker room, but your friend needed help. He was crying so hard he didn’t hear you coming until you called his name. You immediately went to untie him and grab his clothes from the fence beside him.

“You were right.” He sniffled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, I’m sorry, I should have been there, I could have helped you--”

“No, you couldn’t. There were too many people.”

“How many were there? Who did this?”

“Y/N, please--”

“No, Spencer, tell me what happened.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

You know when to stop, so you just shut your mouth while he got dressed, “Get in the car, I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t say a word to him as he buckled his seatbelt and you could tell he appreciated it. You just drove to McDonald’s and got him his usual. You parked in the parking lot and ate your food in almost silence, save for the radio in the background.

“You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened, you could pretend none of this ever happened, I won’t mind, it’s okay, but I just need you to know, Spencer, say the word and she’s dead. I have so much dirt on her, you have no idea, I can destroy her.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t. At least give me names. I will personally make sure none of those boys ever get a date again.”

“Y/N, please.”

“I’m serious, I’ll tell everyone they have herpes.”

“I know you are and that’s what scares me, please don’t, I don’t wanna make things worse.”

You decide to drop it because if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he needs a distraction.

After you finish your food, you ask him “Your house or mine?”

“Yours. Please.”

You drove back to your house and got yourselves set up on the couch in front of the TV, turning on an episode of Doctor Who that you had recorded. You made him popcorn as he curled up on your couch, clutching a pillow. You were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but when you did talk, it was to ask him a question about the show or if any of the science was accurate. It was the best you could do to keep him mind off things. Eventually, he fell asleep and you felt too bad to wake him. He got up by himself around midnight, jolting awake as if from a nightmare, and considering how the last few hours had been for him, it probably was one.

“Hey, bud, I’m here, it’s me.” You didn’t touch him, knowing he got overstimulated sometimes when he got really stressed, but he felt around for you on the couch next to him, needing to know you were really there this time. You patted his hand when it reached across the cushion for you.

“What time is it?”

“Way too late for you to be here, let’s get you home.”

He nodded, slowly rising to his feet and looking for his backpack, which you reminded him he had left in the car. Your hand hovered above his head for a moment before he lazily drifted into you as he walked. You took this as an okay to touch him, so you ruffled his hair before loosely slinging an arm around his shoulders as you guided him to your car.

The drive back to Spencer’s wasn’t too long, thankfully, because you were sure his parents would be furious with him and the kid’s been through enough today. You wanted to take all the heat without making them think you kidnapped him. The lights were still on when you pulled into the driveway. They were probably worried sick about him.

When you knocked on the door, a frantic woman with short blonde hair opened it. When she saw Spencer, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the house, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Who are you? What are you doing with my son?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Mrs. Reid. I’m Y/N, he’s been tutoring me.”

“How do you know me? Spencer, what did you tell her?” She looked at him and back at you, “Get off my property and stay away from us!”

“Mom, she’s a fr--”

“Go up to your room, don’t come out.” She didn’t sound like an angry parent reprimanding her son, she sounded almost... scared.

A million alarms were going off in your head, and you needed to try to get through to her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, he was helping me study and we lost track of time, it’s not his fault.”

“I don’t care, I don’t know you, get off my property!”

You decided it was best not to argue, so you hurried back to your car and drove home as quickly as possible so you could shower and go to bed and pray that Spencer would be okay tonight.

~~~

Your phone rang early the next morning. You rolled out of bed to answer it, sprinting to the hall table to take it off the stand. Checking the caller ID, you realized it was from a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.

“Hello, this is Spencer, is Y/N home?”

“Yes, you woke me up on a Saturday morning, where else am I gonna be, kid?” Your voice was scratchy as you struggled to fight off the sleep still clawing at your throat.

“Sorry about that. I was just calling to apologize for last night.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“N-No, I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to explain why my mother was all--”

“She was worried, I get it.”

“N- she… My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, she doesn’t do well with strangers. She doesn’t even remember what she said to you last night, she was having one of her episodes. She was just confused.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You were so shocked by his sudden revelations, you just stayed silent. You didn’t want him to think he scared you, so you had to say something. And apparently, that something was “Oh.”

“She wanted to apologize, but she’s just a bit embarrassed, so I called for her.”

“N-No, it’s okay, I…” It was suddenly so hard to say you understood because while it made sense to you, you wouldn’t fully understand what he or his mom was going through, you didn’t understand it, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He was just glad it didn’t bother you. After the events of yesterday, he couldn’t afford to lose you.

“Tell her I’m sorry I scared her.”

“Will do. She said you could come over so she could apologize personally and meet her if you want.”

“I’d love to. And Spence?”

You felt him take pause. You never called him that before, “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“You wouldn’t scare me, dude, you can tell me anything.”

“Really?”

“I promise. I’ll see you Monday?”

Spencer nodded, but you couldn’t see him, so he spoke up through the lump in his throat, “See you Monday.”

Taglist ~~~~~~

(Lmk if you wanna be added!!)

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @baby-pogue @rottenearly

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH02

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Slow build, a pinch of angst, doubts, a little fluff too, maybe?

WC: 2975

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

There’s a knock at the door in the afternoon and she opens up to Gabriel, Dean’s personal driver and handyman. She has known him for a while now, having started at the company almost at the exact same time. Gabe’s secretive — probably why Dean hired him in the first place — and he’s really easy to talk to. 

“Boss said I should move your things to his apartment.” Gabe says and steps in. 

“What else has he told you?” She closes the door and follows Gabe over to where her suitcases are. 

“Nothing much. You’re married or something. But I signed a NDA, so, no worries,” He shrugs like it’s no fucking deal, which makes her wonder what else he knows. She wonders what else Gabe witnessed while driving around for Dean.

“Is that all?” He asks and points his finger at her two packed suitcases.

“Yeah, I travel light.” She smiles, feels a little embarrassed actually. But that’s how it is. Everything she owns fits into two lousy suitcases. It’s actually quite sad when she thinks about it. 

“Damn, you could have taken the subway with them suitcases. There’s no need for me,” Gabe says it with an amused tone to his voice. 

 *

 Gabe drives into the parking garage of the building Dean lives in. He tells her to call the elevator and take the one far left because that one will go to the top floor without making unnecessary stops. He then takes out her luggage and follows her. 

As they are standing in the elevator, the stupid music starts to play and she hates that. Hates lame elevator music, because it makes everything so much more awkward. Dean even has his own elevator. It’s a little ridiculous when you think about it. 

They arrive and Gabe shows her the way, which is probably not really hard because there’s only one door that looks like an apartment door. All the other doors had  signs on them that say Keep out! or Private!

Gabe rings the bell and she waits behind him. She can’t lie, she’s a little scared. Like, he’s her boss and he’s so damn grumpy all the time and she’s afraid that he’s going to fire her even in his own home. 

Dean opens the door, his hair’s ruffled, his jacket and tie are off, the top two buttons of his shirt are loose, and his sleeves are rolled up. The shirt has those crinkles on them as if he just took a nap. Maybe he did? He was complaining about a headache earlier. 

“Hey,” He says and opens the door wider, for Gabe and her to step through, “Thanks Gabe, that’ll be all.”

“Right,” Gabe nods, “I’ll be in the car ready to leave when you are.”

Dean gives Gabe a courtesy nod before he closes the door behind him. He then turns to her. It's really awkward. She wonders if she’s made a mistake in agreeing to be his fake wife. 

He has both his hands in his pockets when he looks at her and asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She manages to give him a weak smile. She can’t tell him that she’s in fact, not really okay of course, that she’s in fact, nervous as hell. 

“Come on, follow me,” Dean starts to walk through the penthouse and she needs to speed up to be able to keep up with him. His legs are incredibly long and hers are not, “I’ll show you around.” 

They walk into a big open space. There’s a black sofa in one corner. It faces a ridiculously big screen tv. There are also two big comforter chairs which she frowns a little at. It’s not that they don’t look nice, they just don’t really fit into the setting. 

Dean senses her confusion, “I bought them for when Sam’s over. Watch,” He grins and walks over, sits in one and reclined himself. When he settles, he pushes a button and there's a buzzing sound, “It massages your back,” He says, a smile on his face that’s brighter than the sun. She couldn’t not laugh at that. 

“Right,” Dean says then, “Gotta get out before I let myself be sucked into it. It’s hard to get out once you relax too much.” 

She can imagine and actually, she can’t wait to get in there herself.

He continues to walk ahead and they get into a kitchen area. The fridge is more than twice as big as the one she has at home and it’s stocked up, too. Either he went to the store before or he has someone to do it for him. She thinks it must be the latter. She just can’t imagine him walking through the aisle wheeling a cart in front of him.

After the kitchen, he walks along a hallway and points to the rooms. 

“That’s my study, I don’t use it that much but there’s a computer and printer. If you need something, you can use it.”

The door next to the office is the guest bathroom. It’s bigger than the living room of her apartment. 

They walk further along the hallway and come to stop at two doors on either side of the narrow hallway.

Dean opens up the door to her right, “That’s your bedroom,” They walk in and it’s spacious as hell. She thinks it’s even bigger than her whole apartment. Everything is kept in a warm mix of white and beige, “And that’s your bathroom.” He walks through to the en-suite and she can see that the tub is huge. 

He looks at her, sees her mouth standing agape and has to grin.

“What?” She asks, feeling a little flushed knowing that he’s been watching her. 

Pressing his lips into a tight line, he grins a little. There are teeny tiny dimples showing, “There’s a gym on the first floor of the building, you’re free to use it if you want.”

“Okay,” She follows him out again and wonders what is behind the door that he hasn’t mentioned, “And what’s there?”

“That’s my bedroom.” He says simply, and he’s already rushing back into the living area, and fuck why are his legs so damn long. She is glad that they’re bowed, he would probably be even faster if they were straight.

“Dean, slow down, I’m not that fast,” She has to call out because he’s already at the door to the balcony. 

He laughs, “Sorry, I’m just so used to walking around with Sam and he never has a problem keeping up with me. I’ll try to go slower, okay?” He waits until she reaches him.

“That'd be great, thanks.”

“Come on, you need to see this,” There’s a boyish smile decorating his face. It’s nothing like the grumpy Dean she knows as her boss. He’s genuinely content, and it shows. 

He opens up the door to the balcony and holy shit, it’s not a balcony. It’s a freaking terrace. There’s a hot tub on the far left side, overlooking the city.

“Nice, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” She agrees, “It really is. How often do you get to enjoy it, though?” It’s a legit question because she knows how much he works. 

“Maybe I’ll get to enjoy it more now that you’re here.” His voice is a little soft when he says it. Before she can even ask what he means by that, he clears his throat, “Right, I really need to go back to the office now. Will you be okay? I’ll try not to stay too late, alright?” 

“Sure,”

“Make yourself at home. It’s yours now, too.” He’s about to turn around but then he stops, “Really missed you in the office this morning. Ruby doesn’t know how I drink my coffee.”

“It’s not hard? You drink it black.”

“Yeah, but hers is different.”

She doesn’t really know if he’s shitting her. Dean’s so hard to read sometimes. 

“Dean, the coffee is the same!”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes, “But anyway, just so you know. You’re missed in the office. Not just because of the coffee.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass.”

Dean snorts out a laugh before he turns around and picks up his tie and jacket. He walks to the door, turns around again, “Call me when you need anything!”

She can’t even say okay because she can already see  that the door closed. 

*

Two suitcases are easy to unpack. Half of her new closet is still empty. She didn’t even need more than an hour. 

Walking out into the living room, she sees the comforter and decides to spoil her body with a massage. 

She sits in, reclines herself and pushes the same button Dean did before, and immediately a buzzing sound fills her ears as her back starts to vibrate. She lets out a squeal at first but soon starts to relax and it does feel really good. She closes her eyes and almost drifts off when she feels another kind of vibration in the back pocket of her pants. 

Taking out her phone she looks at her screen.

Dean.

 D: What are you up to? Find everything alright?

 Y/N frowns. Because she sees the time and knows for a fact that he’s in a meeting right now because she organized that meeting.

 Y/N: Aren’t you in a meeting?

D: Yeah, but I’m bored.

 She doesn’t even know that he’s a texter. Every time she saw him with his phone in his hand, he talked to someone. He never just has his phone in his hand and fucking texts.

 Y/N: If you’re really interested, I’m sitting in the comforter and I’m enjoying a massage.

D: Jealous.

Y/N: Was thinking about taking a bath in the hot tub. I’m allowed to use it, right?

D: You are. But I would wait til the evening. The view is nicer then.

Y/N: Okay.

 But he’ll be here in the evening and he’ll see her in the tub. Ugh. 

 D: Right, just wanted to see if you’re okay. Since you are, I’m gonna go back to listening to whatever Donatello has to tell me. See you later, Y/N.

Y/N: TTYL

D: TTYL?

Y/N: Talk to you later

D: Oh, TTYL

 She snorts out a laugh, thinks that texting-Dean is kind of adorable.

 *

 After a relaxing massage, she decides to take a shower. Mainly because she still hasn’t showered after she poured coffee all over herself this morning. 

The shower’s huge too, the water pressure is excellent. The nozzles (and boy are there many of them), hit her sore spots just right.

She dresses herself back in some jeans and shirt. Normally if she’s at her home, she’d walk around in only a shirt but she’s practically a guest around here — even if Dean insists that it’s her home, she doesn’t trust it yet — and she doesn’t really know how her boss would react seeing her walking around in his apartment in only her underwear and a shirt. 

Taking her book that she didn’t get to finish this morning out into the living room, she grabs a cup of coffee before she makes herself comfortable and cozies herself up on the couch to finish her book. 

Just when she reaches the second to last page, Dean walks in, his tie already loose around his neck, “Honey, I’m home!” He smiles when he sees her staring at him, “I always wanted to say that once in my life.”

“You’re early,” She says, pushes at the button of her phone to realize that it’s almost 6pm. Normally he’s still at the office. 

Dean switches on the light for her and she doesn't even realize that it starts to get dark out. 

“Yeah, I still have a headache. It’s been like that since I woke up after the night I married Amara. Didn’t feel like working longer and leave you alone either.” He comes to sit next to her and she catches the smell of his cologne mixed with his musk. He smells delicious even after a long day and that’s not really fair. 

“Should I go get some painkillers? You just have to tell me where they are kept.”

“Nah,” He sighs, “I’ll just take them before I go to sleep. What are you up to?” He asks her, and she sees that he’s eyeing up her book that she’s still clutching in her hands. 

Her face starts to flare up. 

“Just reading a book.” She says it in an easy way, tries to sound nonchalant about it but she knows that she fails.

Dean catches the cover before she could hide it and he starts to grin, “You sap.” He stands up again when he sees that she starts to feel uncomfortable if they didn’t  change the subject soon.

“What do you want to eat? Does Pizza sound alright? I’m not in the mood to cook tonight.”

That’s when it dawns on her that she’s playing his fake wife and maybe she should have cooked him something for dinner? Because that’s what wives do right? She doesn’t fucking know because she hasn’t even been in a relationship long enough to cook anything for anyone. Except that she sometimes used to cook for Jack. Oh my god, Jack! She still has to tell him what happened! 

She gets up from the couch, abandons her book and walks to Dean who’s already in the kitchen leafing through take-out leaflets, “I’m sorry, I should have cooked you something,”

He stops in his tracks to look at her, one eyebrow raised, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be your fake wife and I’m supposed to cook you something.”

Dean sighs, “Y/N, really. That’s not why I fake married you. You don’t have to do anything in fact. It’s okay alright? I’m a big guy and  if I want something cooked, I can do it myself.”

“Okay,” She says, still feels a little guilty about it, though. And Dean seems to sense it because he drops the leaflets and walks over to her, places his hand on the back of her neck and she catches the whiff of his cologne. It makes all the hair on her body stand up and she gets light headed. 

He lowers himself a little, looks her in the eye, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you understand? Hey, look at me.”

She does, looks straight into his green eyes. Dean Winchester has freckles. She never noticed them before, was always distracted by the green of his eyes. 

There’s a moment of silence, and she doesn’t know if he feels it too. Feels a magnetic force that pulls her towards him.

“Are we good?” He leans in closer and she can feel his hot breath.

“Yeah,” She nods.

“Good,” He says, but doesn’t quite move away yet, if anything he moves even closer. He’s closer to her than he’s ever been, “Because I want you to feel comfortable around me, okay? I’m really not your boss when we’re together. I want you to be yourself, can you do that?”

“Sure,” 

Dean smiles, showing his white fangs. Her heart races a little more. She would love to feel the teeth on her skin.

Y/N, what’s wrong with you?

He lingers a little longer, his hand still firm on the back of her neck and she feels like he’s staring into her soul. He licks his lips before he speaks, “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” 

She’s really not, at least not yet. She’s too confused to eat. Confused about the fact that she feels that she’s attracted to her own fucking boss. Someone who she’s faked married to!

“Right, how about you take that bath in the hot tube that you talked about? I’ll go take a shower and we’ll order later, huh?”

She looks out of the window and grins, because the sun’s going down and the view’s really is fabulous, “Sounds good to me.”

 *

 She slips into her room to change into a bathing suit. She doesn’t really have anything fancy, only a simple black bikini but she’s not really here to impress him, is she? She’s not really here to do more than being his fake wife, right? Right.

When she walks out to the terrace, Dean must already be in his room because she can’t see him but she did find the tub heating up and bubbling away. There’s a bottle of wine and glasses on the table next to the tub. She smiles when she thinks that he prepared it for her. She wouldn’t have guessed that he would do things like this. At least not boss Dean that she knows.

She steps into the tub and lets herself sink lower. Closing her eyes, she embraces the feel of floating outdoors.

“You didn’t pour yourself wine?” Dean’s voice suddenly jerks her back to reality. 

Y/N opens her eyes to see Dean standing there, wearing a simple shirt and sweatpants. His hair’s still damp from the shower. She’s astounded, he looks completely different. Still good, but different. More casual, more relaxed. 

“I was too excited to get in,” She smiles at him.

Dean mirrors her smile before he pours the wine for her, “You must have wine in there in order to get the full experience.” He walks over to hand it to her. 

“Thanks,” She says, and thinks whether she should ask if he wants to join her? What’s the proper hot tub etiquette? “You want to come in?”

He chuckles, “Nah, maybe some other time, I’m enjoying the view from here.” He pours himself some wine and sits down, stretching himself before his face settles into a smirk. 

She thinks it’s weird that he said he wants to enjoy the view but he’s sitting facing her. 

CH03

[hazbincalifornia]

Mine

Chapter 19:  Blitzo gets some release... eventually.

Warnings: Mpreg, explicit sexual content. The actual smutty stuff starts after the line partway through.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

Blitzo stared up at the balcony, one eye twitching as the rope tied to it flapped in the wind. Stolas was somewhere out of sight- probably laid out on the bed with a rose in his mouth. At the thought, Blitzo could feel his lower muscles clench and he gritted his teeth.

An hour ago, when he’d sent the text message, there had been no response. Not even a read notification. Stolas had practically been begging him to come over before, what was the deal? Was he busy? Oh sure, great, the one time Blitzo needed him...

He’d sent another message. Then another one. By the fourth (approximately seven minutes after the initial text) Blitzo was starting to bounce on the bed again, groaning as heat burned him from the inside out. Visions of feathers and the sharp snap of a beak danced through his head, and one hand clutched at his stomach, claws digging just barely into the skin to keep him from slipping away entirely as the other hand jabbed the ‘call’ button.

It went to voicemail.

“Stolas. Answer your goddamn phone. Ghhh-” His hand had drifted back down between his legs. “F-fuck, you’re the one that always wants me to pound you, so will you be there when I actually need you? I need to feel your tight little ass and your soft feathers and bite into your neck, I wanna watch you go red and feel you pulsing around me.” The bedframe squeaked as he humped the mattress for emphasis. “I swear to fuck if it was possible I’d give you all this back, fuck you full until you know what it’s like to be carrying this little bastard. You’re gonna be my bitch and you’re gonna like it.” Blitzo panted for a moment. “Call me back, because we are going to fuck or I’m shoving a cactus up your ass, got that?”

Blitzo had then jabbed ‘end call’ and fell back on the bed, pulling his fingers out of himself and staring at the ceiling for a minute as his heart pounded. He was about to reach for the dildo again when his phone started buzzing- Stolas had responded by sending several texts, one right after another.

!!!!

That’s wonderful Blitzy! I was in a meeting, I’m so sorry!

Stella should have left just an hour ago, I’ll check but the house is ours for a few days. Your timing is impeccable.

Do you need a ride over?

Blitzo had rolled his eyes and replied, swiping his jizz-soaked hand on the pillow to clean later.

its fine i hve a van. b over ther soon

Another reply from Stolas.

❤️ I assume you’ll want to use the front door, I’ll tell the servants to let you in. The balcony might be difficult in your condition.

Blitzo had hissed at that, glaring down at the phone.

ru saying i cant do it? fck u, Ill go up the usual way

Are you sure? It’s no trouble.

just b ready

Blitzo scrubbed his legs down with five different washcloths in the bathroom and pulled on pants- and they were nice tight ones that showed off his butt too. He stuffed his phone in the pocket before tugging on the lightest shirt in his closet- a long-sleeve mesh thing he’d gotten for partying. It had been a crop top before, so at least when it rode up he could pretend it was supposed to look like that. He considered for a moment before deciding against a light jacket- he was gonna be going straight to the mansion and in the van for most of the way. Finished, he struck a pose in the mirror, and yeah, maybe it was the unbelievably horny hormones, but he looked and felt hot as shit right now.

Then, of course, he’d reached the mansion and realized that he needed to scale a rope up fifty feet while pregnant, and some of the enthusiasm drained away as the brat shifted around inside of him.

“Okay. You’ve done weirder shit,” Blitzo said aloud, cracking his knuckles before curling both hands and his tail around the rope. Climbing ropes were easy. He could do this in his sleep. Probably had at some point, or at least while drunk. He’d been in the circus and did all kinds of crazy physical stunts for IMP, a single rope while he had some weight around his middle was nothing.

He got about three feet off the ground before realizing that the whole ‘fucked center of gravity’ thing combined with the sweat on his palms and slick already starting to soak his pants might pose a problem. No matter, he could still do this. He steeled himself, fingers flexing around the nylon as he shimmied up a bit more, thighs clamping and releasing as his hands moved up over each other.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Squirming inside that made him lose his grip. The rope burned as he slid down, legs getting double-soaked in the slick already starting to make the line smell like a glory hole.

His phone buzzed, but checking it would require letting go of the rope, and nothing was going to make him do that. He snarled, starting to climb again. Left. Right. Left. Right. Time slipped away as he laser-focused on trying to get up the damn rope. Come on, he’d done it a couple times before and he’d always made it, he wasn’t going to be a fucking pussy-

“Sir?” A voice that reminded Blitzo of an airport announcer cleared its throat from behind Blitzo and he nearly lost his grip again, biting back a yelp.

“What the fu-”

It was an imp in a spiffy little suit with a mouth pressed into a thin line and a cracked horn. Butler, probably. “His highness Prince Stolas had requested that I make sure that you were alright.” His fingers were interlaced tightly enough that Blitzo could see the veins popping out. “If you need, I can escort you to his room.”

“I know where his fuckin’ room is, that’s where I’m going,” Blitzo snarled.

“It’s been fifteen minutes since you arrived, sir. He’s waiting.” The ‘sir’ had enough venom to kill a Magne, and Blitzo looked up to the balcony, then down to the ground. He doubted he’d cleared twenty feet and his palms were feeling slippery again.

There was a moment of contemplation before he started sliding back down. “Not one fucking word from you, got it?”

The other imp just nodded, directing them to a side door. At least Blitzo was taller than him so he could feel a little less like a kid caught pissing in the parking lot, and at least these pants were absorbent enough to not leave a trail.

___________

It was like a reverse walk of shame, considering he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. The little butler was, mercifully, good at being quiet, only existing by the clicks of his little feet on the floor and the fact that Blitzo saw him out of the corner of his eye while doing his best to stare straight ahead. He knew vaguely where Stolas’s room was going the normal way, but today the mansion felt labyrinthine, conniving to keep Blitzo from getting to the damn bed. He was pretty sure he was squeaking as he walked now.

After about five agonizing minutes in which he sorely regretted wearing tight pants considering his cock was already straining at them, they finally neared the right room, and Blitzo could practically smell Stolas through the door, all rich cologne and earthy soil and cinnamon. The butler knocked only once before nearly getting knocked out when it flew open, smacking him in the face. Blitzo barely noticed, staring up and up at Stolas who was dressed in only a loose bathrobe.

Man. For having only not seen the guy for two days, he’d somehow managed to forget just how huge he was.

He didn’t have very long to contemplate that thought however as Stolas scooped him up in his arms, twirling him around like a doll with pupils glowing white. “Ohhhh, I’m so excited! And you dressed up for the occasion too, what a sexy little top there.” One finger traced over his belly, hooking at the bottom of the mesh. “Leaves nothing to the imagination…”

If he wasn’t going to mention the rope thing going tits-up, Blitzo wasn’t either. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a sex god and you want me, can we just get to the part where I get to fuck you already? You have no idea how uncomfortable is is to be walking around dripping like a faucet.”

Stolas laughed, nuzzling against Blitzo’s cheek before settling him down on the bed. “You certainly seemed eager on the phone! So no roleplay for now?”

“Just get your feathery butt over here so I can pound it into bird-meat,” Blitzo growled, frantically tugging at his pants as Stolas gave a pleased hoot, shedding his robe in mere seconds before crawling atop the bed, already aroused.

“So forceful when you talk dirty…”

“You like that, don’t you?” Blitzo considered taking his sweaty shirt off before realizing that was coordination he didn’t have at the moment, considering his fingers had gotten slippery just trying to remove his damn pants. He liked this shirt, he didn’t want to tear it. Taking in a deep breath, (fuck, Stolas the full thing smelled so much better than just his stupid shirt had) he peeled his underwear off, chucking them across the room hard enough that they hit the wall with a soft ‘splat’ and slid down, leaving a slimy trail. Red fingers curled around gray thighs, spreading Stolas wide with a snap as the prince let out a tiny ‘eep’.

“Right to it then!” His tone was eager, toe-claws flexing in and out as Blitzo reached between his own legs to coat his fingers more thoroughly in whatever pre-jizz junk had been oozing out of him for too damn long.

“You’re so eager, aren’t you?” Blitzo could practically feel his voice lowering as his cock pressed the rest of the way out, oozing more of the lube-juice against his fingertips. “You want me inside of you, filling that perky little ass of yours until you can’t fucking walk.”

“Yes, yes!” Stolas wiggled a little with a wide grin as Blitzo shifted closer, lifting the owl up so he had better access to his backdoor, probing in with his fingers for only a second before driving in hard, getting an absolute howl out of Stolas that faded into a moan.

“You’re mine for however long it takes to get rid of this heat shit, got it? You’re my little toy today, because this is all… your… fucking… fault.” Blitzo accented each of the last four words with a thrust and Stolas gripped at the sheets, tail thumping up and down on the bed with each one. One of the thumps sent a white feather fluttering up and Blitzo stabbed it with his tail, glaring at it as his claws dug into Stolas’s legs. All thoughts were starting to flood his mind except for the heat around him and the legs clutched in his fists. “Mine. You hear that?” He reached up for Stolas’s chest, hauling him up by gripping a handful of feathers with sticky fingers.

Because of his height, Stolas was staring down at him with now-flushed cheeks, but Blitzo couldn’t find it in himself to care because he was still all the way in, walls tightening around his dick with slick spilling out and soaking the sheets. “You’re property of Blitzo as long as I want you.” He grabbed Stolas’s wrist with one hand, shoving the palm flat against his middle. “Your baby, your fucking problem.” The hand still gripping Stolas’s chest tugged him down, pulling him into a kiss as a few downy feathers drifted down to the bedspread.

Blitzo was very, very glad they’d figured out kissing a while ago, because his brain was running on heat-daze and frustration and he never would have been able to figure it out now. He could feel Stolas’s hot breath down his throat and a hot feathered body pressed against his own and the palm on his belly, and when he thrust again he could feel the gasp Stolas made.

“You like that?” Blitzo almost breathed, fire singing in his veins. “Of course you do, I’m fucking good at this. Now lay down and take it like you always want to. You’re mine, and I want all of you.” He smeared some of the lube stuff off his fingers and onto the end of his tail, wrapping it around Stolas’s cock. Stolas fell back on the bed, shuddering a little with a dreamy grin.

“Take me, Blitzy.”

If he hadn’t already been about to pound Stolas to within an inch of his life, the breathy way he said that would have done it.

“You’re asking for it,” Blitzo snarled out, pulling back and snapping forward as his cock squirmed inside of Stolas, the owl throwing a hand over his forehead as the bed snapped against the wall from the force, his tail starting to stroke up and down on Stolas’s length. The smell of Stolas’s arousal was getting him off almost as much as the actual fucking was, and he wanted more of it. “Don’t you want to take advantage of all your hard work? Look at me. I said, look at me.” He smacked at Stolas’s side before continuing jerking him off and all four eyes shot back open. “You put this kid in me, you’re gonna watch as I fuck you right back.”

“I’m watching, I’m watching,” Stolas said, eyes falling back to half-lidded. “You look s-so delicious like that… I could just eat you uuuuuup!” The word dragged as Blitzo curled the tentacle of his cock down, clearly hitting the g-spot from the way that Stolas’s lower eyes started twitching. He started moving his tail up and down faster, curled tightly around Stolas’s length.

“C-could say the same to you, you look and smell so so good…” Blitzo could feel something building, and would have been embarrassed that it was so quick if he hadn’t been trying to bust properly for days now. “Gonna fill you up, take it, take all of it you fucking-” He came before finishing his sentence, gasping as he pumped load after load into Stolas, seeing the owl actually bloat slightly on his thin waist from the sheer volume. Stolas more fell than laid back, panting as Blitzo pulled his tail back, the owl’s cock still twitching and on the edge.

“Mm, so full, B-Blitzy-”

“Finish for me.” It was a voice that invited no discussion. “I want to see you jerk yourself off.”

Stolas nodded, wrapping his fingers around himself and stroking up and down while biting down on the skin under his beak. It only took a few pumps before he cried out Blitzo’s name, semen splattering his feathers as he panted from the aftermath.

“Good bird.” Blitzo looked at Stolas’s sticky fingers as they traced over the owl’s body, palm resting flat upon his slightly-bloated stomach.

“That was more than usual.” The words were light, all four eyes eyes glowing as he prodded at it. “You were excited, weren’t you? Wanted to really fill me up- I don’t know if I’ve ever been able to see it like this before. It felt fantastic, and we match now!”

“Oh, hardehar. Come back when my jizz makes you puke up acid and your gut starts moving.” Still, he couldn’t hold back a half-smile as he rolled his palm over his still-erect cock. “So, good and bad news.”

“Mmmm?” Stolas tilted his head.

“Good news is that I’m ready for another round already.”

“And the bad news?”

“Whatever this heat shit is, it didn’t go away yet.”

Stolas tapped the middle of Blitzo’s face as he grinned. “Ah, so it’s only good news, then.” He pulled Blitzo into a kiss and the imp shifted onto his lap before pressing up against Stolas's face, not caring that Stolas was a sticky mess but only that his mouth and that beak felt perfect at this exact moment.

They had plenty of time, after all, and now that he was here, Blitzo planned to enjoy every damn second of it.

[f33itan]

💛⚜️Pᴀʀᴛ 1: Tᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ⚜️💛 (From my Wattpad)

A/N: Ok, this was something a mutual of mine said here on Tumblr, and I decided to write a oneshot about it. Might be very VERY slight angst, nothing bad enough to actually be put under that umbrella though, anyways, enjoy this, and ty for the reads! :)

CW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, DEGRADATION, AND MORE FOUL WORDS THAN USUAL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

B/N: Your Mother's boyfriend's name

M/N: Mother's name

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

"Oi, Y/N! Go get me another pack of beer from the store!"

"Yes father!" Damn that pig looking bitch. I'm just some fucking girl, trying to protect her mom from this demon of a person! Heck, he's not EVEN a person! He's the devil himself!! Man, I wish dad was here...

When you were in about 7th grade, your real father got killed in a massacre a couple cities over. He was not only a police officer, but a great father and husband as well. He treated you and your mother amazingly, and you thought life couldn't get anymore perfect, but soon that all went down hill. After his death, your mother's health depleted and she felt empty inside. She needed somebody else to make her complete. She decided to call an old friend from high school, and next thing you know he moved in. He seemed like a nice guy at first, but soon enough he was beating you guys mercilessly, enough to leave large bruises and scars whenever you didn't do exactly what he asked, in your eyes though, it was more of an order. You hated being ordered around, but you hated your mother getting beaten around even more. It seemed like a blessing that he hasn't tried to rape her, but god knows what he'll do, he's unpredictable

With all of this happening, you decided to tell him you were doing some "extra curricular" classes in college, but what you were actually doing was taking the Hunter's Exam and learning nen. Your biological father was kind-hearted and fun to be around, but he was also strict and sometimes a bit harsh, though he always meant well. Before his passing, all three of you would go out on the weekends to train, exercise, or do something that would enhance your body power and brain power. Because of this, all of you were exceptionally smart, and bodies all well toned. Sometimes your excursions would be going to a park and practicing a sport, driving to the snow and sledding, skiing, snowboarding, and every once in a while going to another state to zip line, try animal encounters, or take a family friendly class in that state's heritage and customs.

Since you were accustomed to hard core training and events, you thought the Hunter's Exam was quite fun, and was a test to your skills. After that, you were scouted out by a strong nen user by the name of Biscuit Krueger. You and her had lots of fun training, and with her pushing your limits to the utmost best, you turned out to be a specialist.

(Whenever I imagine myself in Hunter x Hunter, this is always my nen type and stuff LMAO)

Your power was called, Black shadow. You could have up to 10 weapons on hand, completely subjected to doing your bidding. These weapons were linked to you through blood, and they were surrounded with a substance that appeared to be black mist. The weapons you most preferred to practice with and use were your katana, blood string, and scythe. You could also make a weapon yours by cutting a fingertip and letting the blood drip onto the weapon, altering the appearance then gaining that black "mist", showing that it was now yours. The downside to this technique was that those "shadows and mist remnants" were your sleep. The darkness in your mind and the shadows all around you were taken and used for that power. In turn, you were always tired, yawning, and had bags under your eyes. Another plus side though was that you had a nen created chamber that had every weapon you owned. A girl can have some fun toys, can't she? You had tools for torture (whenever you took an opportunity to try it), many varieties of weapons, and of course, more snacks. But unlike B/N, you didn't have just fatty snacks. You had regeneration potions, healthy snacks, and special nen created "snacks" to help with different things, which all of these you had collected through pulling some strings. Your mother was worried, but you said it was all just college things. Yeah, just college things..

Ill make that pig bitch pay for what he has done to my mother!

Feitan POV -or whats going on with him- :

"What time, is it.."

"8 AM Fei!"

"Shut up, green eyes, too loud."

"Oh Fei don't be rude! It's mean!"

"That's, the point."

"Oh wait, Shalnark, what this?"

"What do you mean?"

"This... gold string?"

"OI SHALNARK, FEITAN, COME ERE' REAL QUICK!"

"Phinks, what, do you, want-" Phinks just ignored his question and pointed to the TV.

This is Channel 12, reporting live from York New City Town Square. People all over the city are claiming to be seeing a string tied to their left ring finger, leading them to some unknown destination! What is this string? Who put it there?-

"AY AY IM ON TV! THE STRING THINGY JUST LEAD ME TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND NOW WERE DATING! SUPER AWESOME!"-

I apologize for the interference, but this string appears t be leading people to.. partners? Soulmates? Find out tomorrow morning, this is Amy Starwick from Channel 12, signing out.

"What. The. FUCK."

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOODNESS HOLY SHIT FEITAN YOU HAVE A SOULMATE!!"

"Nope-"

"YESS YOU DOOOOOOO"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CHEERY BITCH-"

"No❤️" Since Feitan was on his last nerve with Shalnark, he decided to stomp over towards Chrollo in the main room, but Chrollo just chuckled.

"Wanna go find your soulmate? See if that things real?" Feitan just stared at the ground, lightly shifting his feet.

"Go ahead, I don't mind."

"Just, doing it, out of, curiosity."

"Mhm, curiosity, go find them." And with that, he was dismissed. Feitan wanted to say it was curiosity, but deep down he had this feeling there was something else, but what was it? It made his stomach tingle and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore all of this, and just shrugged it off...

꧁꧂꧁꧂TimeSkip to Next Day꧁꧂꧁꧂

Your POV + some Feitan POV:

"Alright, today's the day, he'll be at his work, and on his break, i'll set the plan in motion.." Both me and mom don't like him, and I don't know about her, but I sure hate him, every ounce of him. The plan is simple: 1. Capture mom's boyfriend, 2. Take him to an abandoned building, 3. Torture him and get all of the answers I need, and 4. Kill him. His break is at 12, and he usually goes to get takeout every other Friday, what a pig. I'll give him a taste of his own medicine.

Time: 11:30 AM

Ok, I have everything ready. Fully energized to the utmost extent, Elixirs to bring him back in case he passes out too early, and- what? He's leaving for lunch early? PERFECT! You ran behind some buildings and hid in a two-way alleyway, waiting for him to pass by...

Here we go..

One..

Two..

THREE!

You covered his head with a sack, and took his phone out of his back pocket. Before heading over to your post, you laced the inside of the sack with some sleeping powder and pressed it against his nose and mouth. Within moments he passed out, and you typed in what you hoped to be his password, which was correct. Around 12:30, you were going to text one of his coworkers that he would be "going to a restaurant across town, and ditching work for a day, not wanting to see his stupid good for nothing girlfriend or his dumb daughter." You knew he called you both this because of going through his text messages when he wasn't looking or when he was sleeping. Little did you know that somebody was watching you from afar.

"Hmm... So, she, my, what do people, call it.. soulmate? Seems, interesting..."

Time: 12:00 PM

"Jesus, I new he was a fat ass but I didn't know he weighed this much!" You were tugging him from his legs through the back ways of York New. You wanted to find a secluded area, where once you were done with him you could just toss him somewhere for the birds and maggots to eat. After walking for what seemed like hours, you came across a set of abandoned buildings, specifically the one you laid out some extra things. A couple extra weapons, some towels, a change of clothes, a chair and some rope, a couple of flashlights, and of course, some snacks. Lucky for you, the douchebag you've been dragging around like a rag doll was still out cold, so you picked him up and tossed him on the chair, tying his wrists, ankles and neck to the chair.

"Maaannn, this is boring!! When the hell are you gonna wake up?!" As if on queue, you saw his eyes start to flutter open, and you immediately grabbed your box cutter. It wasn't a weapon used by your nen, but it was quite effective.

"What.. who.. wait- Y/N!? WHAT THE FUCK?! UNTIE ME NOW BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS!!" you didn't notice it, but Feitan was watching from the building over.

What, the fuck? Why she kidnap him? That pig? Why? Confusing, gotta keep, watching.

You shoved the box cutter into his left cheek, and you bathed in the glory of hearing his screams of pain.

"How does this feel, you bitch? Everything you've done to my dear mother, everything you've done to me, and heck, YOU WERE PROBABLY BEHIND MY DAD'S MURDER DURING THAT FUCKING MASSACRE!!" B/N noticed the tears in your eyes, and took this to his advantage.

"So what if I was? Both of your parents were pathetic anyways."

"NO THEY AREN'T! YOU'RE THE REASON WHY MY MOTHER'S LIKE THIS NOW! YOUR THE FUCKING REASON FOR EVERYTHING SHITTY THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!!"

"Heh, hehe.. hahaHAHAHA! YOU KNOW GOD DAMNED WELL THAT ALL OF YOU ARE PATHETIC! WANNA KNOW WHY I GOT WITH YOUR MOM!? BECAUSE SHES HOT. AND SHE HAD GOOD MONEY FROM YOUR FUCKING DAD. YOU KNOW WHAT I WAS GONNA DO?! YOU KNOW WHY I TOOK OFF EARLY TODAY?! I WAS GONNA RAPE YOUR MOTHER AND MAKE YOU WATCH, THEN KILL BOTH OF YOU AND RUN OFF WITH ALL OF YOUR MONEY!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S IRONIC?! I DON'T HAVE ONE. SINGLE. FUCKING. REGRET. IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAD, YOU SOULDN'T HAVE HAD THE NERVE TO DO THIS, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED!!"

You couldn't handle this anymore, tears were falling down your face rapidly as you grabbed the duct tape and closed his mouth shut.

"I don't give a fuck about what you say.. I'm going to kill you here. This is your grave. Someday, I'll join you in hell, and when I do, I'll torture you again, and the Devil will laugh. You just watch and ducking wait you, you.. PATHETIC WORTHLESS PIG ASS SLOPPY ASS NASTU FUCKING BITCH!" With that, you grabbed a couple super worms in each hand and shoved them into his ears. Even with the duct tape, you could hear his screams of agony as the worms dug deeper into his ears. You then got our your katana and slashed him across the stomach, and shoved even more worms into that open wound of his. Quickly, you poured a large bottle of the elixir you had brought over him to keep him from dying so quickly. Box cutter still in hand, you carved small lines all over his arms and legs, then ripped off the tape to hear his desperate cries. You imagined he wanted to be dead, but you didn't care. His pain and you pain mixed together and you just started laughing. You through your head back and let yourself laugh. all of the pain this man has caused you and your mom will be repayed today.

But the pressure and stress was too much to handle. Your laughing of victory soon turned into screams and more tears, as you let yourself fall to the ground, not even noticing you didn't hit it hard, something had caught you, or someone..

What the shit am I doing?

Am I really going to kill him?

What's wrong with me?

What will mother think?

What would dad do?

What am I doing with my life?

You soon snapped out of all of those negative thoughts though, as you noticed something caressing your face lightly.

"Rest, now. He, won't die, so quickly. I'm, Feitan." You were a sniffling and crying mess, so all you could do was rush into Feitan's chest and cry. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. He had no idea what he was doing, for he had only seen this kind of skin on skin contact in movies. So, he did what those people in the movies did.

"Don't, worry... It's all, going to be.. okay."

Word Count (Including author notes, etc) : 2251

-Wrote February 3, 2021-

Unedited sorry about that lol-

Part 1...

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not Losing You (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is pulled over on the side of the road when a man suddenly appears and proceeds to collapse in front of her. Little does she know, that may be a good thing for them both...

Masterlist

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, life-threatening illness, implied past sexual harassment

A/N: Please read the warnings and be aware that there’s a lot of morbid talk in this one...

_____

“Hey, you alright?” you heard. Your car was pulled over on the side of the road and you were staring off into the distance so the voice had more than startled you. After a slight flinch, you looked over your shoulder, a man in a pair of grease covered jeans and light gray t shirt standing there. Another car was parked behind yours and you figured he was trying to be a good samaritan, probably assuming you had car trouble.

“Waiting for triple A,” you said quietly, forcing a smile. You looked back at his car and nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Not to be nosy but you don’t look okay,” he said. He nodded towards your face and your eyes, probably a bit puffy still if you had to guess. You glanced away and back at the ground. “Miss?”

“I appreciate you want to help but I’m fine, alright?” you said. 

“Well, that’s not true but maybe we can deal with your problem after mine,” he said. You frowned and spun back around, noticing for the first time he looked ill. “I uh, I really ain’t feeling so hot and I don’t think I can drive my car again without passing out so would you do me a favor and call me an ambulance?”

“Are you…” you said as the man leaned against your car and proceeded to fall over onto the pavement out cold. “Okay. Definitely not alright.”

“Miss, we’re all set now. I can drive you back to your car if you’re ready,” said the cop you’d talked to in the hospital waiting room an hour later.

“Yeah. Thanks. Is that guy gonna be okay?” you asked as you headed out with him. 

“I’m not sure. I’m sure he’s glad you called an ambulance though,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, looking back over your shoulder. “I’m sure he is.”

You were gone for four hours before you found yourself back at the hospital, heading to Dean Winchester’s room with a tupperware container of chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey,” you said, knocking on the door, Dean looking away from the TV with a smile. He looked better than the last time you’d seen him strapped to a stretcher.

“Hey! If it isn’t…” he said.

“Y/N,” you said, walking in and setting the tub down on the small table at the end of bed.

“Dean but I’m guessing you already know that,” he said. “Cookies too? I think you got this backwards. You saved my ass, I make you the cookies.”

“It’s no big deal. You seemed like you were having a bad day,” you said.

“You too,” he said. “Your car didn’t really have any trouble, did it.”

“No. It was just a rough moment but then you came along and put it into perspective,” you said.

“Yeah. My body is shot to shit. It’s not anything I didn’t know before. It’s just starting to wear down more than I’d like. But I promised we’d take care of your problem too didn’t I before I passed out in front of you,” he said, nodding towards the empty chair.

“Oh, that’s…” you said, the man smiling at you and you couldn’t not take a seat. “I mean, it’s nothing compared to whatever you got going on.”

“Apples and oranges. Come on. Vent away. You earned it,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Well I moved here by myself about six months ago. I don’t know anyone here. I got fired after I bitched out my boss and I just feel like I keep fucking up life. I’m so alone and I’m so tired of it,” you said, the man watching you as he ate a cookie. “Sorry. I know how pathetic that sounds. I shouldn’t be bothering you.”

“Y/N. Look at me,” said Dean, pointing down at himself. “You ain’t pathetic. It sounds like you’re having a rough go of it lately is all.”

“Not as rough as some,” you said.

“Don’t compare your pain to somebody else’s. My first nurse taught me that,” he said.

“You been sick awhile?” you asked.

“Since I was about twenty three, going on six years now. I got bad bone marrow. No matches. I’m kinda getting used to the fact that my last birthday was probably my last one,” he said.

“And yet you ask about my crappy day,” you said.

“Of course. You know, being kinda close to death is nice. See, normal Dean, he’d be too cocky for his own good, flirt with you, do the whole one of us is shy but secretly likes it thing. Now...now I can say with absolute certainty that if you are that gorgeous when you’re upset, you’re gonna damn near kill me when I see you smile,” he said.

“Oh my God,” you said with a laugh, Dean putting a hand on his heart. “You are something else.”

“Yeah but I can get away with that shit cause I’m all vulnerable,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Well you put a smile on my face today,” you said as you stood up. 

“Still too cocky for my own good,” he said. “Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

“Oh yeah. For sure,” you laughed.

“That’s a cute sound. Keep doing more of that,” he said. 

“To think ordinarily I’d think you’re way too good looking for me,” you said. “I don’t even remember the last time I flirted with a guy.”

“Things must be looking up for me,” he smiled.

“I hope you find a match, Dean,” you said.

“Me too. Oh and Y/N,” he said as you walked towards the end of the bed. “Promise me something. Go flirt with the guy you think is too good looking for you. One of us should end up with a hottie and it looks like you’re gonna have to pick up my slack.”

“I promise, Dean.”

You waved as you left, heading past the nurses station outside when you stilled and went back.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

“Actually, yeah, you can.”

“Hey,” said Dean a few days later, walking down the hospital hallway in a pair of pajama pants and tee shirt. He looked you up and down and frowned. “Y/N. Don’t tell me you got something going on, sweetheart.”

“Just a routine test, Dean,” you said, giving him a smile as he took a seat on a bench in the hall. “You doing okay?”

“Never better,” he said. “I saw it was raining pretty good outside today.”

“Yeah. I don’t mind it. You been here since Monday?” you asked, Dean nodding. “When do you think you can go home?”

“Maybe this afternoon. Mostly I need a ride,” he said. “My car privileges have been temporarily revoked after the whole almost passing out while driving thing.” 

“I can give you a ride,” you said. He smiled but shook his head. “Come on. You can teach me how to flirt better so I can land that hottie.”

“Alright,” he laughed as he stood up. “Swing by my room after your test is done.”

“Sure thing,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N. Thanks,” he said.

“For what?”

“For treating me like I’m some normal guy and not someone with an expiration date,” he said.

“Expiration date? What are you, milk?”

You swore you’d never seen a human being burst out into laughter harder. He put a hand over his mouth and started to giggle, shaking his head as a nurse went past. You started to laugh, the sound of him too sweet not to. A nurse shushed the two of you from down the hall which only made him giggle more.

“That is the most ridiculous…” he laughed, trying to get a hold of himself. “Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in forever. You’re such a dork and I love it.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Dean,” you said, Dean winking at you again. “Alright, Casanova. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

“Your apartment is...cute,” you said, standing in the entrance when Dean chuckled.

“It’s a pigsty. I haven’t cleaned in forever. Totally how you want to impress the hot chick,” he said, walking back towards the kitchen. “You want a drink?”

“Water’s fine,” you said, watching him disappear a moment before he returned to the living area with two bottles. He took a seat and you joined him on the couch.

“Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it,” he said.

“I don’t have a job anymore so I have plenty of free time,” you said, Dean letting out a quiet laugh. 

“Yeah, speaking of which, I never got the rundown on what happened,” he said. “You said you were fired.”

“Well...I sort of slapped my boss in the face...after hitting him in the nuts,” you said.

“You’re awesome,” he said. “Oh, tell me how bad he deserved it.”

“Like sexual harassment bad,” you said.

“You should sue,” said Dean.

“I did hit him.”

“Self-defense. If I were you, I’d sue,” he said.

“Maybe. I have to find a job in the meantime,” you said.

“The hospital is always hiring,” he said. “I have no idea what you do for a living but I hear they pay well.”

“You just want an excuse to come see me,” you said.

“Duh,” he smirked.

“I’ll look into it, lover boy,” you teased.

“Hey, Y/N. I know we’re basically strangers and all that are simply incredibly attracted to one another and have this brewing sexual tension but…” he said, a stupid smile forming on your face. “Oh, don’t deny it.”

“Yes, Dean?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I gotta ask, for my own sake. Did you drive me home and bring me cookies cause you feel sorry for me?” he asked.

“No,” you said, turning away slightly.

“Well don’t keep me in suspense,” he said. You shrugged and felt him bump your arm.

“You, with all of your own shit to deal with, asked me if I was okay. You seemed just as concerned that I was okay and...people don’t really do that,” you said. 

“Yeah. I get that,” he said quietly. “You get sick with something like this and eventually people stop asking if you’re okay too. It’s like people stop looking at you like you’re a person. I’m not even that bad yet. I don’t want to know how lonely it gets when it does.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I used to have a lot of friends. A lot. Now it’s a handful. People want to separate themselves before it gets to a certain point. I don’t blame them. It’s hard is all,” he said.

“That’s stupid. People suck,” you said, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll be your friend.”

“Friend? Oh, we’re going all the way, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle.

“You’re such a loser,” you said as you stood up.

“Well that’s nothing new,” he said. “You heading out?”

“Do you want me to head out?” you asked.

“What do you think?” he smirked.

“I’ll swing by around six with some pizza,” you said, Dean nodding. “You are allowed to eat that, right?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll see you soon then, Y/N.”

“Ah, mechanic. Okay. Now I get why you were half covered in grease on the side of the road,” you said that night. Dean hummed around a slice of pizza, looking relaxed and a whole lot better at home in his sweats.

“I got a deal going with the shop owners. I come in only on days I’m feeling up it,” said Dean.

“You seem like you’re doing better today,” you said.

“Yeah. Monday was rough but I felt better after that. I get tired kinda fast sometimes is all,” he said.

“And pass out,” you said.

“Needed a transfusion. I always feel better after those,” he said.

“Does it hurt? A transfusion,” you asked, popping a piece of crust in your mouth.

“Nah. Spinal tap? Now that fucker hurts,” he said. “Basically they shove a needle into your back and expect you to stay perfectly still.”

“Not to sound stupid but I’m not up on my bone marrow diseases so how do you exactly get bad bone marrow?” you asked.

“There’s a few ways. Cancer is common, which I don’t like that word but that’s the kind I have. Chemo makes me feel pretty bad so I stopped. No point right now. I got no donor, and apparently I’m special or some shit so it makes it rarer for me to find a match to start with, so I’m sorta screwed,” he said.

“If you got one, a donor, does it go away?” you asked.

“If I take to the transplant and manage not to get sick the first few weeks, my odds go up. If I make it to a year after that, my odds are really good,” he said. “It’s entirely possible I’d be fine for the rest of my life. But it’s not exactly healthy to focus on it happening considering my odds.”

“Well, don’t give up for me. Who knows, you might get a date out of it,” you said.

“A date huh,” he smiled. “That sounds nice but real talk, we ought to stick this to strictly friendship if you get what I’m saying.”

“Oh,” you said.

“I mean, I would love to but I’m not gonna do that to you,” he said.

“Do what to me?”

“Date you just so I can go ahead and keel over,” he said.

“Dean. That’s not fair,” you said.

“You don’t want to date me. Go date that hottie, remember?” he teased.

“Maybe I will,” you said, leaning over, Dean looking all kinds of shy suddenly. “What?”

“You’re really...pretty,” he said quietly. 

“Thank you,” you said, shifting back to your seat with heat in your cheeks. You glanced away and felt his hand on your cheek.

“Last chance,” he said.

“Last chance?” you asked.

“To cut this off at friends,” he said.

“I thought you-“

“Hey, if I’m fucked, I’m going out with a girlfriend like you,” he said. “Obviously you’re free to change your mind anytime. This isn’t-“

You moved your head and he went with you, pressing his lips to yours.

“This isn’t...typical...wow, I am so happy I decided to fall on my face in front of you,” he said.

“Thanks for asking if I was okay,” you said.

“Anytime,” he said, shifting back into his spot. 

“Um,” you said. “Can I...sit closer?”

“I won’t break,” he said, raising his arm for you to sit against his side.

“I’m totally doing this because I’m closer to the pizza now. Don’t let this go to your head or anything,” you said.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that now.”

“Hey,” said Dean the next day at the hospital. He looked like he was picking up a prescription as you were cutting through the lobby. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Just going through my test results with my doctor,” you said. He raised an eyebrow and you looked past him. “Lady doctor stuff.”

“Oh. Well, you have fun with that and if you’re up for it, meet me at 7 at The York,” he said.

“The York? Isn’t that like a super fancy restaurant?” you asked.

“Better wear a cute dress then,” he winked as he went past. “I’ll text you later.”

“It’s too fancy for a first date, Dean!” you said.

“Trust me. I got this. You’re gonna love it,” he said, waving before he headed out. You shook your head and went to the elevators, riding one up to the fourth floor. You had to wait about fifteen minutes before you went in, leg bouncing the whole time.

“Y/N? Dr. Ross will see you now,” said an admin.

“Thanks,” you said, following her into an office and finding Dr. Ross standing by the window enjoying a cup of coffee.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you,” he said, holding out a hand.

“You too,” you said as he waved for you to take a seat. “Nice office.”

“A little stuffy for my tastes. I prefer to be working out on the floor. I know you only had your testing done yesterday but I wanted to bring you in so we could talk.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked with a swallow.

“Oh, yes. Perfectly fine and healthy. Please don’t worry about that. Normally you wouldn’t get a call from us unless something was wrong but this situation is a little unique,” he said.

“Unique how…” you asked, Dr. Ross leaning against his desk.

“Well, you have a very specific marker. Not many people have it. It makes you a little rarer than the average person,” he said. “Still all perfectly healthy.”

“What’s the situation?” you asked.

“I have a patient you match with. If you’re willing, I’d like to get you two paired up so maybe a month from now, he can get treatment,” he said.

“You found a match already?” you asked.

“Yes. He’s local. Most potential marrow donors don’t have this marker which is why I wanted to meet in person to discuss. The odds of someone else showing up on the donor list in a time while he’s still healthy enough to go through with the transplant process are astronomical. You don’t have to agree today but please consider it,” he said.

“Your patient is Dean Winchester, isn’t it,” you said.

“How would you know that?”

“I signed up to be on the list because of him. I didn’t think I’d...match him,” you said, looking up at Dr. Ross. “I like just started dating him.”

“Oh. Well the situation continues to get more unique,” he said. “It’s no issue, perhaps a personal one but that’s for you to decide.”

“I’ll do it,” you said. “I might not have insurance but I don’t care. I’m doing it.”

“Let’s worry about insurance later. Your end of it will be minimal and there’s plenty of special things we can do to make sure you don’t pay a thing. If you want to do this, really do this, I’ll get him back in chemo Monday morning,” he said. “I’m not putting him through such an aggressive treatment for nothing though.”

“I’m doing this. Trust me.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[silverlightqueen]

21 Things To Do This Summer PJM

y/n has a week left to live and 21 things she wanted to do this summer. Jimin vows to help her do them all before she dies and give her the summer of a lifetime.

jimin x reader - angst, fluff, comedy, non-idol!au

Part of BangtanHQ’s ‘Bangtan Boardwalk’ at the ‘Summertime Sadness’ booth!

Rating: Mature (heavy themes and strong language - read with caution)

Word Count: 16.9k+ (she’s a monster omg)

Warnings: death and illness, discussion of death and illness, jokes about death and illness, brain tumour, discussion of eating disorders, brief mention of murder and crime (y/n jokes that Jimin could be a murderer or a thief), explicit language throughout, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed anything

a/n: here’s the first part guys! if you enjoy it, make sure to check out the other fics in the Summertime Sadness booth, and the other booths on the Bangtan Boardwalk! a huge thank you to @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading this massive fic, I love you so damn much x

silverlightqueen masterlist

y/n’s Summer Bucket List

21 Things to Do This Summer

1) Make a new friend

2) Dye my hair

3) Go on a road trip

4) Do pavement chalk

5) Get everybody I talk to to sign a shirt

6) Have s’mores at a bonfire

7) Get drunk and skinny dip at the beach

8) Make a wish balloon

9) Go to a fairground

10) Have a picnic

11) Get a tattoo

12) Sleep under the stars

13) Cloud watch

14) Try camping for the first time

15) Have a water fight

16) Make homemade ice cream

17) Have a pyjama day

18) Send a message in a bottle

19) Watch fireworks

20) Go to a drive-in movie

21) Make a photo album of it all

‘Hey! Hey, excuse me! Hey, wait, you dropped something!’ I can hear someone shouting and, despite the tears running down my face, I roll my eyes, wondering why the idiot who dropped something doesn’t stop to get it. ‘Excuse me! Hey, wait!’ I hear, the voice getting closer, before I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I realise; I’m the idiot.

I turn around to see a boy. The first thing I notice is the piece of paper in his hand. The second thing I notice is that I already know him. ‘You dropped thi- oh, y/n! Hey! Long time, no see. Wait, whoa, are you crying?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again as I frustratedly wipe away my tears. ‘No, Jimin, why? Does it look like I am?’ I spit out sarcastically. ‘Okay, I’m going to ignore how rude that was because you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m going to be a good person and return this to you,’ he says, holding out the piece of paper. When I realise what it is, I snatch it from him, tucking it safely into my bag and mentally chiding myself for nearly losing it.

‘Thank you. Sorry for being rude,’ I say before I turn away, continuing to head home. It’s only after a few seconds I realise he’s walking beside me, and I speed up, trying to get away from him. He speeds up too. I slow down. So does he. I stop in my tracks, turning to shoot him an annoyed look, and he merely grins back at me, blinding me with his annoyingly handsome smile.

‘What do you want, Jimin?’ I ask tiredly, deciding not to be rude after he returned my list to me. ‘Well, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, so I thought it’d be nice to catch up. And I also know you, and you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m not going to abandon somebody who I have history with if they’re crying. And, as well as being a very caring and empathetic person, I’m very curious, and so I have to find out why you’re upset,’ he says, and I frown, continuing to walk, even more annoyed when he continues to walk alongside me.

‘It’s none of your business, Jimin,’ I say sharply, hoping he’ll leave me alone. ‘Well, obviously. It’s your business. But the nature of being curious is wanting to know other people’s business,’ he says as though he’s speaking to a little child, and I shoot him another look. ‘You’re practically a stranger.’ ‘I am not! We had classes together through the whole of high school!’ ‘I’m not going to tell you my business,’ I say with a note of finality, hoping he’ll leave the subject. And leave me, for that matter.

‘Would you tell me if you knew me better?’ he asks thoughtfully, and I roll my eyes. ‘Probably, yes.’ ‘Okay. I’m a Libra, I hate spinach and 13 is my lucky number. Oh, and I dance,’ he says, and I literally want to bash my head against a wall. ‘That does not mean I know you better. It just means you overshare.’ ‘Well, you can’t say I’m practically a stranger. Maybe only half a stranger,’ he says, and I let out a humourless laugh at how persistent he is, and he grins, mistaking it for a real laugh.

‘God, what is it with you? What do I have to say to you to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, stopping in the street and putting my hand on my hip. ‘If you tell me why you’re crying. Or, should I say, were? Because, if you haven’t already noticed, you’re no longer crying. Thanks to me,’ he grins, and I actually didn’t notice that I’m not crying anymore.

‘Well, your stupid ass has distracted me,’ I admit, and he laughs, the sound quite… endearing. ‘So? Tell me then. I think I deserve to know. Considering I cheered you up,’ he says, and I roll my eyes yet again. ‘I said that you distracted me. That is not the same as cheering me up. Listen, Jimin, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone. It’s nice to see you again, and I hope everything’s going well in your life, but it is not a good time for me right now. My patience is seriously wearing thin,’ I say, continuing to walk, but he still walks beside me, making me want to throttle him.

‘I think your patience was already thin. And I’m a good citizen, so I would never just let a pretty girl crying pass me by without asking what’s wrong. Especially if I already know her,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me? ‘Jimin. Leave me alone,’ I say seriously, putting emphasis on every word as the anger begins to bubble up in my stomach. ‘Not until you tell me what’s wro-’ ‘I have a week left to live!’ I shout, losing my temper, and his face instantly transforms from teasing and light, to shocked and guilty as tears fill my eyes. That’ll teach him not to pry into other people’s business.

‘Oh. Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, y/n. I wouldn’t have asked if that’s what it was. I thought you were gonna say you’d broken up with your boyfriend or something. I’m so sorry,’ he says, sounding sincere, but I merely roll my eyes, turning and walking away, and hoping he’ll leave me alone now. ‘How’d you know?’ I hear him say from beside me, and I sigh aloud, having to physically restrain myself from hitting this boy with my bag.

‘What?’ ‘How’d you know you’ve only got a week left to live?’ ‘I went to the doctor a couple days ago, for chronic headaches. They did some scans, and then I got a call this morning to go to the hospital. They told me I have a brain tumour. Terminal. They said I’m lucky if I have another ten days,’ I say tiredly, a couple tears falling down my face which I wipe away hastily, and he takes a deep breath. ‘Wow. I’m really sorry. That’s… terrible. Is there no treatment?’ he asks, and I sigh again. ‘Yes, but they said it’s unlikely to cure it, it’ll only delay my inevitable death, and it’s… painful. I’d rather die sooner than later if later’s gonna hurt. Or it could get rid of the tumour, but it could ruin my future quality of life; I might not be able to speak the same, walk the same, even think the same. So I’ve refused treatment,’ I explain, not sure why I’m opening up to him, and he nods. ‘Reasonable. I’d do the same.’

We walk in silence for a few moments before Jimin starts speaking again. ‘So. Where are you going now?’ he asks, and I side-eye him. ‘Home.’ ‘To your boyfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one.’ ‘Girlfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one of those either.’ ‘Spouse?’ ‘I’m single.’ ‘Parents?’ ‘Don’t live with them.’ ‘Siblings?’ ‘Only child.’ ‘Friends.’ ‘Don’t have any.’ ‘What about all your friends from school?’ ‘I matured; they didn’t.’ ‘Oop. Roommates?’ ‘Nope.’

‘You live alone?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘I have a dog. If that counts,’ I say, and he grins. ‘Of course it counts. What breed?’ ‘A miniature husky. His name’s Coco, and he’s literally tiny,’ I say, a small smile coming onto my face at the thought of my baby, and he holds a hand to his heart. ‘That’s a cute name. My friend, Taehyung – you remember him, right? – he has a Pomeranian who’s tiny, called Yeontan. Tannie for short. Tan for even shorter,’ he says, and I smile despite myself.

‘That’s so adorable. Maybe Taehyung can have Coco. He’ll need a new owner,’ I say jokingly, and Jimin winces. ‘Don’t you feel like it’s too early to make jokes?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘It’s never too early. By the time it’s okay, I’ll be dead,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a strangled laugh, as though he wants to hold it back but can’t.

I still feel a little shocked, but mainly numb. I went through the stages of dealing with bad news whilst I was still at the hospital. I started by denying it, and telling the doctor that something in the scan must be wrong. And then I got super angry that it hadn’t already been identified and screamed a little at her (it was my own fault, though – I’m the one that didn’t go to the doctor until it’d been months of me having headaches). Then I tried to bargain with the doctor, and ask if there were any treatments that don’t hurt or wouldn’t cause me irreversible damage, or if there was any chance I would survive any longer. And then I cried. A lot. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I got through a box and a half of tissues. I was at the hospital for three and a half hours, and spent two hours of that crying. And I was still crying when I left.

I guess I’m now in the acceptance stage. I didn’t know it was possible to move through the stages that quickly.

‘What was that paper you dropped? Your diagnosis?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘All my paperwork was in a folder, loads of it. I threw it in the recycling at the hospital.’ ‘Glad to see you’re looking after the planet for those of us that’ll still be here when you’re gone,’ Jimin says, almost tentatively, and I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. ‘That was funny,’ I admit, and he grins, relaxing. ‘I do try.’ ‘Yes, you’re very trying.’

‘Anyway. What was that paper then?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Do you, like, make it your life’s mission to pry?’ ‘No, it comes naturally. A lot of girls receive it well, actually. They like it when someone good-looking seems interested in their life,’ he smirks, and I shoot him a disgusted look. ‘Big-headed much?’ ‘Just truthful.’ ‘Well, I’m not receiving it well. Clearly.’ ‘I guess you’re not like other girls then,’ he muses, and I shoot him another look. ‘Please don’t tell me you think that’s a compliment, because it isn’t,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Let me rephrase it. You’re not like the girls that I’m used to being around.’ ‘You’re probably used to being around girls just as pretty as you.’ ‘You think I’m pretty?’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘Well, you’re right. But it’s okay, because you’re not just as pretty as me. You’re prettier.

But anyway. Are you gonna tell me what that paper is?’ he asks again, skimming over the fact he’s now called me pretty for the second time, and I sigh, giving up. ‘It’s a summer bucket list. I saw this girl reading a book with the same name in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery the other day, and it inspired me to write one,’ I admit, and he grins. ‘That’s cute,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, looking away from him. ‘Well, I’m gonna die before I get to do any of them anyway,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that,’ he says, voice small, and I nod.

We continue walking, his shoulder a few inches from mine, and I distract myself from the slightly awkward silence by looking at our surroundings instead. It’s a lovely summer’s day today; warm and sunny with the most beautiful breeze. Families are out in force despite it being a weekday, little boys running around shirtless and barefoot, and little girls in cute summer outfits. Chill ‘vibey’ music floats through open car windows, couples share ice cream at the café we walk past, birds chirp in the trees that line the road. It’s such a beautiful day. I even shaved my legs and put on a cute floral playsuit. So much for sunbathing in the garden.

‘Hang on,’ Jimin says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. ‘What?’ ‘Who says you can’t tick off your bucket list?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to die, Jimin,’ I say slowly, and he lets out a frustrated noise. ‘You have a week. That’s more than enough time for us to do it all,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Us? Who said anything about us?’ ‘I’ve taken it upon myself to help you tick off this bucket list.’ ‘And I’m taking it upon myself to refuse your help.’

‘Um, rude. Why?’ he asks with an amused glint in his eye, and my eyes widen even more. ‘Are you kidding? We barely know each other. The closest we ever were was when Nayeon and Jungkook dated and we all planned at their joint birthday party, and when we got paired together for that History project. That was years ago; I have no idea what kind of person you are now. You could be a murderer,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to die anyway,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Okay, I’m allowed to joke about it; you are not. You could be a thief.’ ‘Again: you’re going to die anyway. But, I’m not a thief, so don’t worry. You’ll still have all of your belongings to put in your will.’ ‘Excuse me. Stop joking about my imminent death.’

‘Listen, I want to help you. Let me help you tick off your bucket list,’ he pleads, and I’m surprised at myself for actually considering it. I’m going to die anyway – I might as well spend my last few days having fun. Even if it is with an unbearably curious person from my past. ‘Please let me help you. I’ll consider my life a waste if you don’t,’ he says dramatically, dropping to the floor, making enough of a scene for people to look over at us. ‘Jimin, get up,’ I hiss, and he scrabbles at my shoes. ‘I’ll die if you don’t let me. Please, y/n, please let me,’ he wails, and I look around embarrassedly, feeling lots of stares on us.

‘If I say yes, will you stop making such an embarrassment of yourself?’ I hiss, and he looks up at me with wide eyes and a grin, nodding. ‘Then, yes. I’ll let you help me,’ I sigh, and he jumps up from the floor, a wide smile spreading across his lips. ‘Okay, let’s see what I’m working with,’ he says, and I look at him blankly. ‘Let me see the list,’ he prompts, and I pull the list out of my bag, handing it to him tiredly.

‘Okay, let’s see. ‘y/n’s Summer Bucket List’. Cute. ‘21 Things to Do This Summer’. Only 21 things? This’ll be easier than I thought,’ he says, before his eyes scan down the rest of the list. As he reads it, I look him up and down, inspecting him. He’s changed since school. A lot. He’s now around 5’8’’, with clear golden skin, chocolate brown eyes, plump pink lips and ink black hair swept back from his forehead (must be dyed because I remember his hair being a lot lighter than this). He’s dressed in a pair of grey shorts and a plain white t-shirt, a loose grey jacket over the top of it with pair of sunglasses at the back of his head. ‘Okay, well, you’ve already achieved number one. Making a new friend,’ he says, pointing at himself with a grin, and I roll my eyes exasperatedly. ‘I don’t know you well enough to call you a friend,’ I say, and he sighs.

‘That’s the best bit. You barely know me, and I barely know you. We can be whoever we want to be. All I know about you is the vague stuff from school, and I know that you had high hopes for this summer, but you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. And you’ve only got a week left. And that you’re grumpy and get annoyed easily and are not receptive to strangers. And you’ve got a dog called Coco. All you know about me is the vague stuff from school, and that I’m a Libra, I hate spinach, my lucky number is 13, and that I dance.’ ‘And that you’re annoyingly curious and persistent and stubborn and think a lot of yourself.’ ‘Exactly! That’s literally nothing in the grand scheme of things.’

‘So you think we should lie to each other about what and who we are?’ ‘No, no, you’re misunderstanding. Haven’t you ever wanted to be like someone, but you’re too scared to, or you’re too stuck in your ways?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod. ‘This is your chance. We barely know each other, and we have no more than a week together. You get to be whatever you want to be, y/n, and we’ll tick off everything on your list. We can be like those reckless teenagers from all those stupid films. What have you got to lose?’ he says gently, his eyes big and his words convincing.

‘We can’t do all this in a week,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Can’t is not in my vocabulary. And neither are cannot, unable to, won’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, mustn’t-’ ‘Who in this century says mustn’t?’ ‘We can easily do all this in a week. Even less than a week,’ he says, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Ambitious, but I don’t think so.’ ‘And that’s not in my vocabulary either. But… give me four days,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Four days?’ ‘Easy. I could probably do it in three, but I’ll say an extra day just to be sure,’ he says confidently, and I roll my eyes.

‘Haven’t you, like… got a job? Or, like, studying? You can’t just devote four days – or more – to helping me tick off my bucket list,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Why are you so sensible? Trust me, there’s nothing I have to do,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. ‘Fine,’ he sighs, ‘I work with my friend – Hoseok, remember him? – at his dance studio, but he’ll let me have some time off,’ he says, and I’m still slightly sceptical, but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Why do you want to help me? Haven’t you got better things to do with your life?’ I ask him, voice small, and he smiles, seemingly endeared. ‘There’s something tragic about you, y/n. You went to the hospital alone to be told that you’re going to die. And you don’t live with anybody. And you have a list of things you wanted to do this summer, but won’t be able to do them without help. My help. Of all the places you dropped that paper, you dropped it in front of me. And of all the people that could’ve picked it up, it was me. We haven’t seen each other since we left school, and even though the odds of us seeing each other again were slim, look where we are. Fate works in mysterious ways, y/n. Let me help you. For old time’s sake,’ he says softly, and I feel that little voice in my head whisper, ‘why not?’

‘You know what? Let’s do it,’ I say, throwing caution to the wind, and feeling a little bit of excitement bloom in my chest. ‘Wait, really?’ he asks, surprise on his face but also… hope in his eyes. ‘Yeah. Let’s do it,’ I say with a small smile, the excitement in my chest flooding out into my veins. He jumps up and pumps the air, whooping and shouting in celebration, and I don’t even feel embarrassed of him, finding it quite endearing.

‘Okay, let’s get started. It’s 12.32, so we have until 12.32 on Sunday to tick the whole list off. Let me look at the list again. Um… well, number one’s done. And the last one, the photo album, we can buy a photo album now and take pictures as we go along to put in it,’ he says, thinking aloud, before he turns abruptly. I look around in alarm before rushing after him. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘There’s a supermarket just down the road that we can get a photo album from. Oh, and we can buy an instant camera too! Cuter pictures,’ he says, and I roll my eyes with a small smile on my face.

‘We should just scrap that one. It’s not like I’ll be able to look back at it, so what’s the point?’ I say, and he frowns at me. ‘Well, we could say that about all of this, but it’s about making your last few days exciting and fun and an experience of a lifetime. So don’t say ‘what’s the point’, because there is a point,’ he says firmly, and I keep my mouth shut, unable to stop a small smile from appearing on my face.

We enter the supermarket, the change in temperature making me shiver in my skimpy outfit, and Jimin looks over at me. ‘Oh, my God, my mum would kill me if she knew how ungentlemanly I was being right now,’ he says, taking his jacket off. ‘No, Jimin, it’s fine,’ I try to stop him, but he’s already handing it to me and taking my little backpack from my hand. ‘Let me. Have you ever been treated like a princess?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly. ‘Then take the jacket and let me hold your bag. It’s the least you deserve,’ he says, and I smile to myself as I shrug on the jacket without further complaint, watching amusedly when he puts on the backpack.

He leads us towards the electronics, the back corner of the store, and makes a beeline for the camera section. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘It’s hard to choose a favourite,’ I say quietly, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Okay. What’s your favourite colour out of these?’ he says, motioning to the instant cameras, and I think before answering, ‘that one. The pastel blue.’ ‘Ah, nice choice,’ he says, picking one of the boxes up and heading over towards where the photo albums are, and I follow after him. ‘This one’s perfect!’ he says, pointing at one the same colour as the camera, and I nod, Jimin picking it up with a grin.

‘Right, let’s just double-check this list and see if there’s anything else we need,’ he says, getting the list out of his pocket again. ‘Hmm, we could buy some chalk to do number 4. And we can buy a shirt and markers to do number 5,’ he says, thinking aloud again, walking ridiculously quickly to where the art and school supplies section where the chalk and markers will be, before rushing off towards the clothes section, having me running around behind him.

Once we’ve picked out a plain white button-up dress shirt, we head over to the counter, Jimin chatting amicably with the cashier as I hang behind, surprised and slightly envious of his ability to speak to strangers like they’re close friends. ‘Would you mind doing us a favour?’ Jimin asks, and the cashier nods instantly, scanning through the shirt. ‘Can you sign this shirt? Just, like, with your name and your… job, I guess. We, um, we’re doing a project,’ Jimin says with a grin at me, and the cashier nods again, looking a little confused as Jimin hands her a marker from the pack. She writes ‘Soojung –supermarket cashier’, before handing Jimin the marker back with a grin.

‘Have you got film for this camera?’ Soojung asks as she scans it through, and Jimin looks to me, both of us exchanging an embarrassed glance. ‘No, but it’d probably help,’ I say frankly, and Jimin nods with a laugh. ‘I’ll go and grab them for you,’ the cashier says, getting up and running off. ‘We could’ve gone and gotten it, she didn’t have to,’ I say, and Jimin grins. ‘Perks of being a nice person – people do things for you that they don’t have to,’ he says pointedly, and I scowl at him. ‘Was that a dig?’ I demand, and he grins even wider. ‘Not at all, my dear, y/n,’ he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I roll my eyes in response, the cashier reappearing with a couple boxes of film.

‘Do you want just the one or…?’ ‘We’ll take both,’ Jimin replies, the cashier nodding, scanning them through. ‘Gonna make some summer memories?’ the cashier asks, and we exchange another glance, a small smile playing at Jimin’s lips when he replies, ‘something like that, yeah.’

‘Okay, let’s have another look at this list,’ Jimin says once we’re seated in the back corner of his favourite coffee shop, pulling the list out of his pocket and reading it through. ‘So you’ve already made a new friend. Me. We’ve got the chalk for number four, and a shirt and markers for number 5. I should sign the shirt, right?’ he says, and I nod, thinking this’ll be easier if I let him do what he wants, and he grins, writing ‘Park Jimin - y/n’s fabulously beautiful assistant and school friend’. I raise an eyebrow, and he raises one back, challenging me to say something, but I just shake my head with a small smile.

‘Let’s look at the rest of them. Number 2, dyeing your hair… I have a trillion boxes of dye at home, that’s easy. Number 3, go on a road trip… we can do that, and tick off the others as we do it. Number 4, pavement chalk, we can do with Taehyung on his and Namjoon’s driveway because Tae’s good at art and their driveway is huge. Number 5, get everyone to sign a shirt, won’t be difficult, we just have to remember. Number 6, have s’mores at a bonfire… let me think about that one. Number 7,’ he begins, before looking up at me with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, a little embarrassed.

‘Don’t laugh. It’s something that so many people have done, and I never have,’ I say defensively, his mouth falling open. ‘You’ve never gotten drunk?’ he asks jokingly, and I laugh despite myself. ‘No, idiot, I’ve never skinny-dipped, but I’m pretty sure I’ll only have the courage to do it if I’m drunk,’ I say, and he nods, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘You can leave me with that one too, I’ll think about it.

Number 8, make a wish balloon, that’s easy. Number 9, go to a fairground… that may be a bit more difficult, but I’ll get it done. Number 10, have a picnic, easy. Number 11, get a tattoo, ooh, that’s fun. I know the perfect place. Number 12, go to a drive-in movie… difficult, but I’ll find a way. Number 13, cloud watch, super easy. Number 14, try camping for the first time, that’s easy too. Number 15, water fight… that’s easy as well. Number 16, homemade ice cream, easy. Number 17, pyjama day, even easier. Number 18, send a message in a bottle… should be easy. Number 19, run through sprinklers… shouldn’t be too hard. I hope. Number 20, stargaze and fall asleep under the stars, should be easy enough. And Number 21 is well under way already,’ he says with a grin.

The photo album already has two pictures in it; one of Jimin and I smiling and squinting in the sunlight, and one of us with the cashier, who looks a little awkward, but it’s fine. Nothing will be more awkward than telling her we’re trying to tick off a summer bucket list within a few days because I’m going to die soon. I was right – Jimin has a serious habit of oversharing.

‘Hi, welcome to the Sweetbrew. I’m Yoongi, I’ll be your server. What can I get you?’ a barista says, sounding like he wants to die, his entire face hidden behind a menu. ‘Yoongi,’ Jimin says, snatching the menu to reveal a boy with porcelain skin, mint green hair and brown eyes. I recognise him as one of Jimin’s best friends from school – Min Yoongi.

He was always one of the quieter members of their friendship group. Not shy, but more calm and laidback – it was easy to seem like that when surrounded by his friends, every single one of them having been big and loud characters. But he was just like the rest of them in that he was definitely popular, and desirable too. Everyone saw him as this sensitive and kind boy, his passion for music reinforcing that even more, and there was always somebody that was crushing on him, his look unique and intriguing. And he’s only gotten better looking since school, more mature and manly, yet still with the soft and delicate features that he had back then.

‘Oh, Jimin. Hey,’ he says, sounding a little more lively, before he turns to look at me. ‘Ah, y/n, right? From school?’ he asks, and I’m surprised at how quick he recognises me. ‘I told the group chat about you. Sorry,’ Jimin says, and my eyes widen, Yoongi sitting in the spare seat at our table. ‘What? When?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘While you got distracted playing with that puppy outside the supermarket,’ he says, and I frown.

‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘No. Well, nearly everything. I told them what we’re doing, but I didn’t say why. Obviously,’ he says, and I fix him with a glare. ‘Oh, it’s okay to tell a random shop worker, but not your best friends?’ I ask, Yoongi shooting him a look too. ‘Not cool, Park,’ Yoongi says, and Jimin scowls. ‘I already apologised for that. I have a serious problem with oversharing,’ he says, Yoongi and I exchanging a glance as we chorus, ‘we know.’

‘Why are you doing this? If you don’t mind me asking,’ Yoongi asks, curiosity in his eyes, and I sigh. ‘I’ve got a brain tumour, so I’ve got, like, a week left to live,’ I say bluntly, Yoongi’s mouth falling open. ‘Oh. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, y/n, that’s awful,’ he says, sounding a little awkward, but I wave him off. ‘It’s fine. I’ve already gone through the five stages, and am now sufficiently distracted from my impending demise by your stupid friend,’ I say, Jimin scowling.

‘Well, at least he can make up for being stupid by helping you tick off your list. Anyway, you guys want drinks or you just chilling?’ Yoongi asks, and Jimin looks to me to answer. ‘I could do with a drink.’ ‘What would you like, y/n?’ Yoongi asks, and I hesitate, not quite sure. ‘Um… I don’t know. Jimin, what do you have?’ I ask, but Jimin already looks like he’s cooking up a scheme. ‘What fruits do you like, y/n?’ he asks me, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘berries, pineapple, mango, kiwi, peach. I like everything.’

Yoongi and Jimin exchange a glance, talking without words, and Yoongi nods before disappearing into the back. ‘Anyway. We need to get Yoongi to sign your shirt before we leave, remember. And then… we can go to Tae and Joon’s to do pavement chalk. And we should be able to make the ice cream at Tae and Joon’s too. Then we can go and pick up stuff from our houses before we go on the road trip,’ he says, and I hold up a hand.

‘We’re gonna have to go to mine before we go to Taehyung and Namjoon’s, because I’ve left Coco with the neighbour. I told her I’d only be a couple hours and it’s already been… nearly four,’ I say, Jimin nodding, and I can practically see his mind working. ‘We can get Coco and take her to theirs, and she can play with Tan while we get on with ticking things off. And then we can take her on the road trip with us the next day,’ he says, and I nod, getting more and more excited with his ideas.

‘Are you gonna drop me home tonight and then pick me up in the morning?’ I ask, and he thinks. ‘How about… we sleep over at Tae and Joon’s? You can get all your stuff when we go now, and then we’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning,’ he suggests, but I’m sceptical. ‘Won’t they mind?’ I ask, and he shakes his head instantly. ‘They’re so chill about this kinda stuff. They really won’t mind. We all sleep over at their house all the time because it’s the biggest. There’s more than enough space,’ he says, obviously trying hard to convince me, and I nod. There’s no point worrying about intruding at their house when their best friend seems to be the most intruding person in history.

Jimin looks back down at the list, thinking hard, and I smile to myself. It’s sweet that he’s putting so much effort in to try and tick off this list, even though we barely know each other. The most we ever said to each other at school would’ve been ‘d’you have a spare pen?’ or ‘can you pass me the bottle opener?’

Yoongi reappears after a couple minutes with two plastic cups in his hands, the drinks within them vibrant pink and orange. ‘I call this one… ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’. I put in the syrups for all the fruits you named and a lot of sugar and ice,’ he says, putting them down with a flourish, my heart warming as I smile at him. ‘Thank you. It looks amazing,’ I say, taking a sip, my eyes widening as the flavours explode in my mouth. ‘And it tastes amazing too,’ Jimin says, having already taken a (large) gulp.

‘I’m not the best barista here for nothing. But, y/n, you gotta take the credit. It is named after you,’ Yoongi says, and I roll my eyes with a smile. ‘Get out of here. But, for real, it tastes great, Yoongi,’ I say, the boy giving me the cutest gummy smile, and then I notice Jimin fiddling around with the camera. ‘What are you trying to do?’ I ask, stifling a laugh, and he sighs defeatedly. ‘Take a picture of us with your drink,’ he says, and I hold back a smile, ‘get someone else to take it.’

He ropes in an innocent woman sat beside us with her friend, and she takes a while to focus the camera on us and get the three of us in frame, but when the photo develops, it’s pretty good. ‘Perfect. Right, let’s head back and get Coco,’ Jimin says, and I hold out a hand. ‘Wait. Yoongi, will you sign this shirt?’ I ask, and he looks a little confused. Nevertheless, he signs it as ‘Min Yoongi – creator of the iconic ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’ drink and y/n’s school friend’.

Jimin looks thoughtful as we rise from our seats, and I side-eye him. I’ve noticed that a little bit of panic appears in my chest when I see that look on his face. ‘Yoongi, you busy tonight?’ Jimin asks, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘I’m never busy,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘When d’you get off work?’ ‘4.’ ‘Come ‘round to Tae and Joon’s. I got an idea,’ Jimin says cryptically, wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I give him a look.

‘Okay. See you guys later then,’ Yoongi says before turning to head into the back. ‘Wait. Don’t we need to pay?’ I ask, and Yoongi smiles at me, a little sadness behind the expression. ‘It’s on the house. I might even speak to the manager about getting this drink put on the menu,’ he says, and I smile at him, trying to ignore the tears in my eyes. ‘Good idea. Thanks, Yoongi. See you later,’ I say, Jimin bidding him goodbye as he disappears into the back. ‘Okay,’ Jimin turns to look at me with a grin, ‘let’s go get Coco.’

‘Oh, y/n. Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Choi says for the eleventh time, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, and I smile sadly. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Choi,’ I say, not sure what else to say, when Jimin appears at my elbow. ‘Everything’s in the car now, so whenever you’re ready,’ he says with a grin as he hands me the house keys, Mrs Choi looking him up and down. ‘Oh, Mrs Choi, this is Jimin… an old school friend. Jimin, this is Mrs Choi, my lovely neighbour who my dog likes more than me,’ I say, Mrs Choi laughing as Jimin shakes her hand, bowing his head politely.

‘Oh, don’t be silly, y/n, Coco adores you. He cries whenever you leave him with me,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And then cries when I come to pick him up,’ I point out, and she waves a hand dismissively. ‘It’s because I feed him so much,’ Mrs Choi says, and I laugh, Coco appearing in the doorway behind her. He comes bounding up to me, my heart filling as he rests his front paws on my leg, and I bend down to pick him up. ‘Hi, baby. You okay?’ I say, showering him in kisses, and ducking away when he tries to lick my face. I hate when he licks my makeup off.

‘That is the cutest dog ever,’ Jimin says, and I hold Coco out to him. He instantly takes him into his arms, and giggles when he licks the tip of his nose. Coco leaps out of his arms, and he panics, trying to catch him, but he does it all the time, bounding around the front garden. ‘Here,’ Mrs Choi says, handing Jimin the little tennis ball she keeps beside the door for when she plays with Coco. He instantly throws it and Coco bounds after it, running straight back to him with it in his mouth.

‘He’s handsome,’ Mrs Choi observes quietly so Jimin can’t hear, and I roll my eyes. ‘And doesn’t he know it?’ ‘Are you… and him…?’ ‘Oh, God, no. I… there’s a list of things I wanted to do this summer, and he’s helping me get through it all before I...’ I trail off, and she nods, blinking furiously, obviously trying not to cry. ‘That’s lovely of him. Make sure you take lots of pictures to show me,’ she says, and I grin. ‘We’ve already started a photo album. Actually. Hold on,’ I say, getting the camera out of my bag as Jimin bends down to pet Coco who jumps on him, the unexpectedness making him fall onto his back. I get a really cute picture of him lying down, laughing, with Coco on his chest, trying to lick his face.

‘Lovely. Well, I’ll let you get to it. But make sure you come to see me again before… well, when you get back from ticking off your list,’ she says, pulling me into a hug, and I screw my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to cry in front of her. She’s been like a mother figure to me since I moved out of my parents’ house, always coming over to check if I’m okay, bringing me food and inviting me around at least once a week, looking after Coco whenever I need her to. I’m heartbroken that I’m going to be leaving a hole in her life when I go.

‘I will. See you later, Mrs Choi,’ I say, pulling away from her, and we exchange a sad smile. ‘See you, y/n. Be careful, dear, and have fun,’ she says sadly, pressing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last long look before she disappears into her house. I don’t blame her; I’d be struggling to deal if I were in her position.

‘Okay. Let’s go,’ I call to Jimin who’s sat cross legged on the floor, Coco running towards him with the ball and dropping it beside him. Jimin’s standing when I reach them and he hands me the ball, Coco’s eyes never leaving it. ‘Do you want Coco to sit on my lap or do you mind him sitting in the back?’ I ask, as we walk towards his car, and he shrugs. ‘He can sit in the back, I don’t mind,’ he says, and I pull open the back door, putting the ball in there, and Coco leaps in without hesitation. I shut the door behind him before climbing into the passenger seat, Jimin already sat in the driver’s seat.

‘You ready?’ he says excitedly as he starts the engine, putting on the radio which is currently playing Justin Bieber. ‘Yep. Let’s do this,’ I say, sneaking one last look at Mrs Choi’s house. And then it hits me. This might be the last time I look at her house. I might die before I get to see her again.

My body goes cold all over, tears prickling in my eyes as my throat constricts painfully. It just repeats in my head again and again; ‘I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.’

Coco realises I’m upset before Jimin does, and he begins to whine from the backseat. ‘Is Coco okay?’ I hear Jimin’s voice distantly, and when I don’t reply, I hear him coo, ‘Coco? What’s the matter, boy?’ And then he looks over at me.

‘Oh,’ he breathes out, instantly pulling over. ‘y/n,’ he says gently, reaching out to take one of my hands, and the second his skin touches mine, I burst into tears. He shuffles as close as he can, the gearstick separating us, and he leans across the gap, pulling me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder, letting him hold me as the tears come in an endless flood, whispering the words ‘I’m going to die’ every few seconds.

Once I’ve calmed down (and feel ridiculously uncomfortable in the position we’re in), I gently push away from him, and he releases me, still holding one of my hands in his. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper, and he frowns. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to be upset. Like, you’re going to die, for God’s sake; you can cry about that. Cry as much as you want, you’re entitled to do so. Just… tell me when you’re upset so I don’t say something stupid,’ he says ruefully, a small laugh falling from my lips, and he grins.

‘It’s just… it’s not fair. There’s still so much I wanted to do with my life. I’ll never work in my dream job. There are so many beautiful places I’ll never get to see. Tokyo, Mexico, Portugal, Bali, Dubai, India, Australia, Brazil, Hawaii, The Caribbean, The Maldives, Greece, Morocco. So many things that everyone does that I’ll never get a chance to do. Fall in love, get married, have a family. I’ve never even been in a relationship,’ I say with a harsh laugh, and Jimin sighs.

‘You’re right, y/n. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all. You deserve so much more, so much better. You’ve been robbed of the rest of your life. You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry,’ he says so simply, and it feels as though his words just… make it all okay. It’s hard to explain, but they feel like a consolation. They make me feel like the way I’m feeling isn’t me just being irrational, or a spoiled brat, because I know that it could be worse. They make me feel like I’m justified in my thoughts and feelings. And that’s what I need right now.

‘Thank you,’ I say, sniffling a little, and he smiles at me. ‘You’re most welcome, y/n. Now. Are you ready to go to Tae and Joon’s or would you like to cry for a little longer?’ he says teasingly, and I laugh, shoving him gently. ‘Drive, you moron,’ I say, and he gasps as he starts up the car, a small grin playing at his lips as he says, ‘Moron? I’m about to give you the summer of a lifetime in four days. Do you think a moron could do that? No, of course they couldn’t.’

‘y/n! Oh, my God, girl, it’s so good to see you!’ Taehyung exclaims the second I open the car door, running over from the front door and throwing his arms around me. I was always a little closer to Taehyung than I was to Jimin, because we had quite a few classes together. I hug him back, my face practically smushed against his chest as he holds me in a bone-crushingly tight embrace.

‘Hey, Taehyung. How have you been?’ I ask as he releases me, his hands still on my shoulders. He holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, before an appreciative grin spreads across his face. I hold back from pointing out that he still has the same adorable boxy smile from high school. And then I register his bright blue hair, stifling a laugh at how eccentric he still is. ‘I’m good. You got hot, y/n!’ he exclaims, and I feel blood rushing to my face from embarrassment.

‘Thank you. But look at you! You’re so handsome, Tae,’ I grin, and he grins back with a little wink. Everything about him is just as appealing as back then. Tae was definitely a ladies’ man… and a men’s man too. He was loud and bubbly, his personality easily grabbing the attention of everyone in any room, and his laugh was crazy infectious. He was the perfect mix of cute and hot, and he’s only gotten hotter, with his manly features and strong build.

‘Thank you, babe. Come in, come in. Jimin, do you need a hand with the bags? No? Good,’ he says, not even waiting for an answer from Jimin before he drags me up towards the house, the other boy muttering behind us as I hear him pop the boot open.

The second I step over the threshold, a ball of fluff appears and begins yapping at me from behind Tae, and he bends down to pick it up. ‘y/n, this is my beloved son, Kim Yeontan, or Tannie for short,’ Taehyung says, introducing me to his little Pomeranian, who has now quietened down and is staring at me with a curious look in his eyes. ‘Hi, Tannie,’ I coo at the dog, reaching a hand out to stroke his head, and he lets me with a contented little growl low in his throat.

‘Ah, he likes you! He rarely likes strangers. Little coward,’ Taehyung says affectionately as I slip off my shoes, Jimin appearing in the doorway with my bag (a suitcase, actually – yes, I might be dying soon, but I wanna make sure I look good when I do, so I had to bring plenty of clothes) in one hand, and Coco in the other. And then the barking match starts.

Coco and Yeontan incessantly yowl and woof at each other, both of them scrabbling to get out of Jimin and Tae’s arms. And then Taehyung puts Tan down, and Tan instantly shuts up, hiding behind his dad’s legs. Jimin does the same, putting Coco down, and he tries to get Jimin to pick him up again. ‘They’re both cowards,’ I mutter with a smile as Taehyung leads us down the front hallway, Yeontan trotting along beside him as I follow behind, Coco hanging back with Jimin as he takes his shoes off and shuts the front door.

We enter the kitchen, and if it wasn’t clear from the outside of the house, it’s made clear now; this house is beautiful, and expensive. It’s roomy and spacious, modern and clean, with classy and tasteful furnishings. ‘I love your house, Tae. It’s so nice, and I love the way you’ve decorated,’ I say, and he beams at me, eyes nearly disappearing behind their lids. ‘Thank you, y/n. It was all me – Joon has no sense of decoration,’ he says, sounding genuinely touched, and Jimin raises an eyebrow at me as he walks in. ‘Look at you sucking up,’ he mutters with a grin, and Tae and I both shoot him dirty looks.

‘You want something to drink, y/n? Before we get started on the chalk?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m okay, thank you,’ I reply, but he’s already distracted with the list that Jimin’s put in front of him on the marble island counter. ‘Ooh, so this is the list? Let’s have a look,’ he says before reading it intently. Once he’s done, his eyes flit up to me, before flitting back down to the page.

‘Don’t take offence to this, okay?’ he says, and I already brace myself for a mocking remark. ‘Some of this stuff is, like, basic teenager stuff. How have you not done all of this already?’ he asks softly, and I feel a little embarrassed. ‘I don’t know, I just… after high school, I drifted from the girls – I still talk to them every now and then, but it isn’t the same – and I didn’t really… make any new friends to do these kind of things with. I have my work friends, but the most I’ve ever done with them is a night out. And in high school, I guess I was… too cautious and too scared to join in on these kind of things. We went on a group trip to the beach – I was the only one that didn’t skinny dip. The end of school prank was dyeing our hair in the school toilets – I was the one of the only ones that didn’t dye mine. Everyone planned a camping trip together – I didn’t go. I was, and still am, a little… uptight, I guess? I wanted to change that this summer, but…’ I trail off, and Tae surprises me by nodding sadly.

‘Jimin told me on the phone while you were talking to your neighbour,’ he says, and I shoot Jimin a look. ‘I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to keep telling people!’ he exclaims defensively, and I nod with a roll of my eyes, thinking his reasoning is fair enough. ‘I’m really sorry, y/n. There’s not much someone can say in these kind of situations, but I just want you to know that I’m so sorry, and that it’s so unfair,’ he says gently, and I smile sadly. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘Now, anyway. Shall we get on with this list? I know Jimin said that we can start with chalk and ice cream, but…’ Tae says, voice a lot more cheerful as he sidles over to me, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger, ‘I think we should dye your hair first.’ ‘Dye it?’ I say, lifting a hand to pat my hair protectively, having not yet worked up the courage. ‘Yep. I have trillions of box dyes upstairs – you can choose any colour you like,’ he says, and I look over at Jimin who grins, nodding encouragingly.

A few minutes later, I’m sat on a stool in Tae’s lavish bathroom, a towel resting over my shoulders as I inspect the boxes laid out on the counter in front of me, Taehyung and Jimin stood behind me as Coco and Tan play in Tae’s bedroom (they seem to be the best of friends now). ‘I’m thinking I shouldn’t go too wild considering it’ll be my funeral in a little while and my parents will probably want an open casket,’ I say musingly, Taehyung choking on air as Jimin holds back a smile.

‘Good idea. Maybe… highlights or ombre rather than the whole head?’ Jimin suggests, and I nod, feeling a little more at ease at not having to take the full plunge. ‘Okay… what colour then?’ Taehyung asks, and I look at all the colours. ‘Um… I don’t know. It’s really difficult,’ I say a little timidly, both boys nodding reassuringly, trying to give me a little more confident. ‘You’re right, it is difficult. How about… two platinum blonde streaks at the front of your hair?’ Taehyung asks, and I nearly choke.

‘Blonde streaks… like an e-girl?’ I ask, and Tae laughs, nodding. ‘It’s on trend, and I think you’ll be able to pull it off really well,’ Tae says thoughtfully, and whilst I’m still not convinced, Jimin nods excitedly. ‘Yes, that’d look amazing! Go on, y/n, you should!’ Jimin urges, eyes locked with mine in the mirror, and I sigh before nodding with a small smile. ‘Why not? Go for it,’ I say, the two of them exchanging a grin.

Before I know it, the front sections of my hair have been bleached and foiled, and a timer has been set for 20 minutes. And Jimin is contemplating dyeing his own hair. ‘I mean, I’ve had black for so long, and I need a change, right? I’ve been wanting to go bright for a while. But do I go a natural bright, or a colourful bright?’ he muses, Tae fake yawning at him in the mirror, coaxing a giggle from me, but Jimin doesn’t notice, too busy inspecting the dye boxes.

‘If it helps, I liked it when you went blond at school. You look nice blond,’ I say, and he looks at me in the mirror with a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘Bright blond, or platinum blond, or dirty blond?’ he asks, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘bright blond.’ ‘Okay, let’s go bright blond then,’ he says instantly, disappearing off to get a towel from Tae’s airing cupboard.

‘That was… interesting,’ Tae says with a smirk at me in the mirror, and I look back at him confusedly. ‘How so?’ ‘He never takes anyone’s advice when it comes to his hair dye. And he never decides that quick,’ he says, his smirk even wider, but Jimin reappears before I can reply. I try to shake off Tae’s words as Jimin looks for the right box dye.

‘Maybe I should dye my hair too,’ Tae says, looking at his blue locks in the mirror. ‘I like you with brown hair, Tae. I’d like it if you had brown hair at my funeral,’ I say, and his eyes widen slightly at the mention of it again. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. We should all have natural colours for the funeral, out of respect,’ Jimin says, and I frown. ‘No, I don’t mind if you guys had the craziest colours ever. I just think you look so… classically handsome with brown hair, Tae,’ I say, and he looks smug at my compliment. ‘Okay,’ he grins, reaching for a box dye, Jimin and I exchanging a look in the mirror as he says, ‘guess I’m going brown then.’

‘When did you go brown, Tae? And you blond, Jimin?’ a voice suddenly says, making all three of us jump. There’s a man stood on Taehyung’s front garden, and I remember him as Jung Hoseok from school. He was cute back then, but he’s handsome now with his golden skin and his silky brown hair. ‘About… 90 minutes ago,’ Taehyung says, currently drawing what looks like a heart but could also be an alien, and Hoseok nods as though it’s perfectly normal.

‘Hey, y/n. Your hair looks nice,’ Hoseok says, shooting a heart-shaped smile at me, and I smile back. I’m still not used to my hair being blonde when it falls into my face, but it does look nice – Tae and Jimin did a good job. ‘Hey, Hoseok. Thank you. Tae and Jimin did it.’ ‘Please, call me Hobi. Anyway, how are you?’ he says before wincing, obviously already aware of my situation. Jimin really can’t keep his mouth shut. ‘I’m okay. How are you?’ I ask, and he nods, replying, ‘I’m good. Excited to work on this list.’ ‘Well, get some chalk and get your ass down here to help us,’ Jimin says from where he’s sprawled out on the gravel, drawing a dog (or attempting to, anyway).

We’ve been working on the chalk for just over an hour, listening to music from Taehyung’s speaker that’s sat in the doorway (Coco and Tan have already knocked it over several times whilst they’ve been playing). Bright chalk covers nearly all of Taehyung and Namjoon’s driveway – except for where Tae and Jimin’s cars are – rainbows, flowers, hearts, clouds surrounding us (as well as a bunny, a pineapple, a unicorn, a slice of watermelon and Jimin’s dog).

‘It looks like you’re nearly done,’ Hoseok observes, and I nod, wiping my forehead clean of sweat. ‘Yeah, we are. This isn’t as fun as I thought it was going to be,’ I say frankly, the others all laughing. ‘The fun comes from taking pictures with the chalk,’ Taehyung says, and I get up instantly. ‘Okay, let’s just take pictures and then carry on with the list,’ I say, the three of them laughing again as Jimin and Taehyung get up from the floor.

Taehyung instantly goes into director mode, making me lie down in a gap in the chalk. Jimin stands over me, one foot on either side of my waist, taking pictures on both the camera and his phone whilst Taehyung directs him on how to take them and me on how to pose, Hobi using his phone torch to give us better lighting (it doesn’t make much of a difference, but he’s trying).

I start to feel a little embarrassed, wondering what we must look like to Tae’s neighbours, before I remember that life is short – mine especially – so I should make the most of it without worrying what people think of me. After a few minutes (and a few dozen pictures), I get into it a little more, and the boys all begin hyping me up, Jimin making a few flirty comments here and there.

And then Jimin joins me, Taehyung taking the camera and Hobi directing us (he’s even more… bossy than Taehyung, instructing us down to the simplest things – the positions of our fingers, the direction we look in, the angle of our heads. Everything.)

‘You guys are gonna make her regret asking for help,’ a voice comes from the driveway, all of us looking over to see Namjoon and Jungkook from school stood there, leaning against the Jimin’s car. ‘Watch the car!’ Jimin exclaims, both of them heading over. ‘Just for the record, I didn’t ask for help. Jimin forc- I mean, Jimin volunteered his help,’ I say, correcting myself when he shoots me a dirty look, the others laughing.

‘It’s good to see you guys again. Did you walk here?’ I ask, and Namjoon nods. ‘It’s good to see you too. Jungkook picked me up from work, and then we dropped his car off and walked here. We all live really close to each other. Jimin, Jungkook and Hobi live on the road up there, and Jin and Yoongi live on the road down that way,’ Namjoon points, and I nod, thinking how sweet it is that they all live so close together.

‘JK, the blue’s gonna have to go,’ Tae says to the baby of their group. He’s changed more than all of them; he still has his big eyes and his cute bunny teeth, but that’s where the similarities end. He’s so handsome, and his body is lean and tall. Not as tall as Namjoon, though; he always was tall, but he’s grown even more now, and he’s gorgeous, with his dimples and blond hair. It’s like only beautiful people are allowed in their friendship group.

‘What?’ Jungkook asks, confused, his eyes wide. ‘You need to dye your hair brown again,’ Tae says, Jungkook frowning. ‘Why? I’ve only been blue for a couple days. Don’t you like it?’ ‘It looks great, but we’re all going natural out of respect, for y/n’s funeral,’ Jimin says casually, Jungkook choking and Namjoon slapping his back with wide eyes. ‘Jimin. You can’t just drop it in like that,’ Hobi reprimands, but I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, I’d prefer if we just spoke about it normally. Anyway, you don’t have to go brown, Jungkook, it’s okay,’ I say, Jungkook nodding, still looking a little shell-shocked.

‘Can we get up now?’ I say to Hobi from where I’m lying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder with Jimin, and he shakes his head. ‘If you want to make a scrapbook, you can’t just have pictures of you and Jimin in it. You need to get pictures with all of us,’ he says simply, and I bite my tongue, knowing I’ll just have to suck it up. Twenty minutes later, I’ve taken several pictures with all of the boys, and it was a little fun, I guess. We’ll have run out of film by the end of the day at this rate.

But my head’s starting to hurt a little, and I know I can’t take anymore. ‘Can we stop now? I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ I say, sitting up, and they all look a little worried. ‘Is it from being under the sun for so long?’ Hobi asks, nervously, but Tae speaks before I can reply; ‘no, it’s probably the hair dye.’ Jimin looks at them both incredulously. ‘I think it’s the tumour in her brain,’ he says slowly, and I can’t help but share his exasperation at their stupid suggestions, the boys all falling into a shocked silence as Jimin looks to me with thinly-veiled amusement.

‘Yeah, I think you’re right, Jimin, it probably is,’ I say, holding back a laugh. ‘Do you want some painkillers?’ Tae asks weakly, and I smile, shaking my head. ‘I’m okay, thanks. I might just have a little lie-down, if that’s okay?’ I ask, Tae nodding straight away. ‘I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms and you can have a shower, or a nap, if you want?’ Tae suggests as Hobi and Jimin help me up, my head dizzy and light, and I nod. ‘That sounds perfect.’

I blink in the slices of soft sunlight that fall between the blinds onto the bed, sitting up carefully. My head feels a lot better after that nap, which was the best nap of my life, by the way. Tae and Joon must be seriously rich, because this bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. And the room is super lavish, monochrome and clean, with a deep carpet and expensive looking furnishings. The bathroom was nice too, and I dragged out my shower a lot longer than usual, my skin smelling fresh with Tae and Namjoon’s expensive passionfruit body wash.

I slowly climb out of the bed, looking at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite me. I still can’t get used to the hair, but it does look good. Tae has good taste, and he and Jimin put the dye in really well – the front sections of my hair are the perfect vibrant blonde. Tae put all these different haircare products in it after he washed out the dye, and it feels healthier than ever before. It’s obvious he’s dyed his hair plenty, because he’s clearly an expert. He could be a hairdresser if he wanted to.

I open my suitcase and get out a bralet to put on (my pyjamas are satin, and I’d rather not have my nipples visible through them in a room full of childhood friends I haven’t seen for years) and put it on beneath my black button-up pyjama shirt. I quickly splash some water over my face to wake myself up a little before I head downstairs, following the loud voices that lead me into the kitchen. Namjoon’s stood at the counter, making coffee, Jungkook, Jimin, Tae and Hobi sat around the breakfast bar with two new arrivals; Yoongi, and Seokjin. Seokjin literally hasn’t aged a day, and he’s somehow even more handsome than he was back then, with his plump lips and swept back dark hair.

‘Sleeping beauty awakes!’ Jimin exclaims when he sees me walk in, and I smile softly, still a little sleepy. His blond hair really does look good, the perfect summer colour, and Tae’s looks really good too – the dark brown locks make him look like a model. ‘y/n! They were right, you really are gorgeous!’ Jin exclaims, jumping up and pulling me into a hug, and I try to supress the embarrassment I’m feeling at them talking about me, and telling Jin I’m gorgeous. One thing I remember about Jin was that he never used to feel embarrassed, at anything. Sometimes he’d get a little shy, and his ears would go red, but he’d never hesitate to do something, even if it was embarrassing, if it would help to ease any awkwardness and make people feel comfortable.

His hugging me, despite us barely speaking when we went to school together and not having seen each other for years, is just what I need, and a perfect example of how kind Jin is.

‘Thanks, Jin, but look at you! You’re really handsome,’ I say honestly, feeling at ease after his hug, and he grins at me. ‘You didn’t call me handsome, y/n, but you called Tae and Jin handsome,’ Jimin pouts, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘She knows Tae and I are the best-looking, that’s why,’ Jin says, and Jimin scowls at him before looking back at me, still waiting for an answer. ‘Just because I didn’t say it out loud, doesn’t mean I didn’t think it,’ I say matter-of-factly, and he grins proudly. ‘What about the rest of us?’ Hobi asks, all of them flashing smiles at me, and I blink a few times. ‘You’re all handsome. Now stop smiling at me before I faint,’ I say, all of them laughing.

‘Coffee, y/n?’ Namjoon asks, but I shake my head. ‘I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. Thanks, though,’ I say, and Jimin frowns. ‘y/n, it’s not like it matters,’ Jimin says, everyone wincing, and I laugh, nodding in agreement. ‘You’re right. I will have some, please, Namjoon,’ I say, everyone laughing again as Namjoon nods with a smile, getting another mug out for me. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ Tae says, patting the empty seat between him and Jungkook, and I sit in it, feeling a little self-conscious. I’m in my pyjamas, with no makeup and slight bedhead, and they’re all just… so handsome.

‘What do you guys do? For you all to be at home at… 5.38 on a Wednesday?’ I say, reading the time on the clock. I have all of the boys on social media, so I vaguely know some of what goes on in their lives, but not much. It’s hard to keep track of everyone from school. ‘Um, I own my own photography business. We do photography for weddings, parties, photo shoots, etc. and we’ve had some pretty high-profile clients, so we’re quite successful. And I do some art on the side, and some of my paintings have sold well, hence the fancy house. I get to work from home most of the time, because I mainly do editing – I’ve hired photographers, but I do a couple weddings here and there,’ Tae says, and I’m impressed, though not surprised. Tae always did have a talent for art, and he was the photographer for the school newspaper, so this career is perfect for him.

‘I own my own dance studio, and we only open on Monday and Tuesday 6-9, Thursday 3-6, and then Saturdays and Sundays,’ Hoseok says and, again, I’m not surprised; Hoseok always loved his dancing and he put more effort into dance than into his school work, but I guess it paid off.

‘I work for Hobi and Tae. I teach classes every day that it’s open, and then I do some photography work every couple weeks. And I do some shifts here and there at a tattoo shop,’ Jungkook says, and I think it’s really cute that he works for his friends, though I wonder if it sparks any arguments between them. I look at Jimin when Jungkook mentions the tattoo shop, and Jimin grins with a little nod, my stomach turning. Obviously, he was referring to where Jungkook works when he said he knew the perfect place for me to get a tattoo.

‘I do all the finances and admin and paperwork for Tae and Hobi, and I work for a small record label, producing and rapping,’ Namjoon says as he puts my coffee down in front of me, and I thank him with a smile, quite surprised to hear Namjoon’s career choice. To be fair, Namjoon excelled in all of his subjects, so he’d be good at whatever he chose to do.

‘I’m a part-time chef at this restaurant in the city, and I’m also studying to become an actor,’ Jin says, and I’m impressed. I didn’t know Jin was interested in cooking or in acting, but now that I look at him, he really does look like an actor, and I could imagine him as a chef too, with one of those big white hats.

‘I’m a barista, as you know, I teach a couple piano lessons a week, and I do some rapping and producing at the same company as Namjoon,’ Yoongi explains, and I remember how good he was at piano. He was chosen to play at one of these awards’ evenings we had at school, and we were all so impressed at how good he was. Rapping, though? I never knew he could rap.

Everyone looks at Jimin to answer, but he looks back blankly before saying, ‘I already told her my job.’ They all nod before looking back at me. ‘What do you do, y/n?’ Jin asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘I work part-time as an assistant at a law firm, and I’m studying to become a lawyer. Or I was anyway,’ I trail off, a little sad that I’ll never be able to do my dream job, and the boys all give me pitying looks. Except for Jimin, who says, ‘damn, y/n, you’re clever. Law student, huh?’ I nod with a smile, and he grins. ‘You could’ve got in on the family businesses, and done all the boring legal shit for us,’ Jimin says, and I grimace, internally endeared at him calling them the family businesses. ‘I’d have passed. Sorry,’ I say, the boys all laughing.

‘Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s carry on with your list,’ Jin says, picking it up from where it sits in the middle of the island, and I take a sip of my coffee. ‘Should I wash the chalk from your driveway?’ I ask Tae and Joon, and they both shake their heads. ‘I was about to, but Jin stopped me. He wants some pictures with you and the chalk,’ Tae says, and I let out a sigh, all them laughing. ‘We’ve literally spent all of our time on the chalk so far. Your four days are gonna fly by,’ I say to Jimin, who waves it off with an easy grin.

‘Stop trying to worry me. Four days is plenty. You go take some pictures with Jin, and Yoongi, while I set up the next thing for us to tick off,’ Jimin says, getting up and pulling me off my seat, pushing me towards the door. ‘Make sure you get plenty of good pictures,’ Jimin says to Tae with a mischievous glance at me, who nods, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re gonna run out of film,’ I say, but Jimin shakes his head with a grin. ‘I went out whilst you were asleep and got some more supplies, including a few more boxes of film,’ he grins, and I let out a deep sigh as Tae and Jin drag me outside, Yoongi trailing behind, and Jimin waving at us from the doorway.

‘Done with your photoshoot?’ Jimin asks as we walk into the living room. ‘Yes, thank God,’ I say, throwing myself down onto the sofa. ‘Jin, you’re way too demanding. We were out there for forty-five minutes,’ Yoongi says, flopping down next to me, and Jin scowls at us from the doorway. ‘Tae wasn’t getting my angles!’ he exclaims, and Tae’s eyes widen. ‘You’re not blaming this on me. I own a photography business, so don’t accuse me of being a bad photographer,’ Tae says, Jin opening his mouth to speak, but Jimin interrupts; ‘don’t argue. y/n’s dying.’

They go silent, and I burst out laughing as Jimin grins at me. ‘You can’t drop that into every conversation, Jimin,’ I laugh, the others relaxing a little, and Jimin shrugs. ‘I can. Just watch. Anyway, before you get comfy, we need to go into the dining room,’ he says vaguely with a knowing grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I don’t want to, because of that look on your face,’ I say suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘Come on, y/n, we gotta tick the next thing off your list,’ Jimin says amusedly, holding a hand out to me, and I take it after a moment of hesitation, letting him pull me up. He doesn’t let go of my hand, dragging me behind him into the dining room, and it takes a little while for me to register what’s going on.

The table is set up with these different machines, and Jungkook sits at the table with an empty seat beside him, a lamp set up to cast a bright light onto the empty chair. And then I spot the little book on the table, sat beside a bunch of needles lined up on a small white sheet.

Jungkook’s about to give me a tattoo.

‘Oh, hell no,’ I say, turning around, but Jimin grabs me around the waist before I can walk away, picking me up and carrying me over to the door as I struggle around in his arms, the other boys watching amusedly. But Jimin’s freakishly strong, and my struggling doesn’t work. He puts me down in the empty chair, and I pout at him before looking around at the others. Tae, Jin and Yoongi are stood in one doorway, blocking it, and Namjoon and Hobi stand in the other, blocking that too. I literally cannot leave, and when I look down at the needles, my stomach turns.

‘Do you want to look through the book?’ Jungkook asks gently, and I sigh. ‘Not really,’ I say, all of them laughing as he hands me the book, and I flip through it. ‘Can you all stop looking at me? Or at least put on some music so I don’t feel so tense,’ I say, more laughter rippling around the room as Taehyung gets his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a couple times, gentle RnB music floating out into the room from the ceiling. They must have a built-in sound system – their house really is boujee.

I scan the book and some of the designs are cute, but none of them really stand out to me. ‘Struggling to choose one?’ Jungkook asks quietly, the others having conversations between themselves, and I nod. He rolls up his sleeve, and shows me the various tattoos that cover his arm and hand. He has a flower, a skeleton hand, the word ‘Truth’, the woozy emoji, a purple heart, a little crown and some black stripes with various numbers and letters on his hand. ‘They all stand for different things. Like, for example, this is the tiger flower, which is my birth flower, and the letters all stand for the guys. So you could get some that are meaningful to you, or you could just get something that you think looks pretty. It’s up to you,’ he says, and I nod, thinking.

I decide on getting my birth flower, a little bolt of lightning and my parents’ initials. ‘Why don’t you get something summer related?’ Jimin suggests softly, and I think before nodding. ‘Like… the sun, or something?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Whatever you want. You could get a picture or a quote, anything you want. It’s up to you, y/n. It’s your body,’ he says, and I nod, thinking about the first idea I had for a tattoo when I wrote that list. ‘How about ‘we’ll always have summer’… or is that silly?’ I ask, and Jungkook shakes his head straight away.

‘Of course it isn’t silly,’ he says, but Jimin looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Who’s we?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘I don’t know. A general ‘we’, I guess? Like… as bleak as life gets, as boring, as sad, as hard as life is, there’s always the hope, the promise, the excitement of summer. So no matter what happens, we’ll always have summer,’ I explain, Jungkook’s eyes widening, and Jimin nodding at me with a small smile. ‘Wow, that’s so deep, y/n. You’re so clever,’ Jungkook says, and I laugh, waving it off.

‘Have you decided yet?’ Hobi asks, and I nod, feeling a little nervous. ‘I’m getting my birth flower, a bolt of lightning, my parents’ initials, and ‘we’ll always have summer’. What do you think?’ I ask, and Hobi smiles, looking impressed. ‘You’re getting four?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Might as well.’ ‘Where do you want them?’ Jungkook asks, and I hesitate. ‘Where does it hurt least?’ ‘Your ass,’ Jimin says with a grin, and I swat at him whilst the others all laugh. ‘The least painful is usually your back, the outside of your arms, the inside of your forearm and the outsides of your thighs. Hands aren’t too bad, and nor are shoulders,’ Jungkook explains.

After a lot of deliberation, we make the decision as a group of where I should have them; birth flower on my inner forearm, my parents’ initials on my right ring finger, the lightning bolt on the side of my ribcage/side-boob, and the quote on the back of my left shoulder. ‘How long will it take, Jungkook?’ I ask as Jungkook sets up all his equipment, the others arguing about what we should have for dinner. ‘Please, call me JK, or Kook, or whatever. And, it shouldn’t take longer than a few hours, because they’re all quite small. The quote will take the longest, and I can usually do quotes in an hour and a half, so I’d say… three hours, maybe three and a half?’ he says, and I feel dread at the thought of being in pain for that long. But it’s fine. I’ll be fine.

‘Are you still not done?’ Taehyung demands as he enters the room, Jungkook’s eyes still fixed on my finger as he sighs. ‘Relax, I’m doing the last one now. I’ll be done in a few minutes,’ he says, and Tae huffs. ‘You’re taking ages. We want to do the next thing on her list.’ ‘Don’t rush me, Tae. Tattooing is an art,’ Jungkook says calmly, Tae rolling his eyes from behind Jungkook’s back, and I hold back a laugh.

It actually wasn’t that painful, surprisingly. The worst thing was having to stay still for so long. He started with my birth flower, and it was fascinating to watch the ink appear on my skin, at first. The fascination soon wore off, and I was itching to move, but I knew I’d just ruin it if I did.

Then he moved onto the quote. I had to tie my hair up into a bun and sit backwards on a chair whilst he did it, and Jimin fed me some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, keeping me entertained with his stupid antics. Jin tried to feed Jungkook, but when he choked Jungkook with a chopstick, Jungkook decided he’d just eat afterwards.

And then he did my lightning bolt. I had to take off my top and unclasp my bra, holding it in place with my arm out of the way so Jungkook could get to my side-boob easily, and I told the boys that none of them could come in whilst he was doing that one, because the bra kept slipping. Jungkook was very professional though, and I can’t even imagine how many boobs he’s seen over his time working as a tattoo artist.

And now he’s doing my fingers. I’m used to the stinging pain now, and I’m very proud of myself for not crying. Tae shows me some funny videos on his phone whilst Jungkook carries on with the tattoo. ‘And… done!’ he exclaims, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. I look at my hand, pleased with how the tattoo looks. ‘Thank you, JK, it’s great.’ ‘No problem. Right… let me give you the aftercare speech,’ he says as he begins to put the weird jelly stuff and a bandage onto my finger. It’s weird how professional he is – I saw him passed out drunk at house parties more times than I can remember, and now he’s giving me tattoos and telling me how to look after them properly.

‘Don’t remove these bandages for 24 hours, and when you do, wash the tattoos, gently, with an unscented soap and water, and pat it dry afterwards. Put on some of this ointment twice a day, if you can, but you don’t need to put on another bandage. Wash them a few times a day, gently, with unscented soap and water, and always pat them dry, and then put on an unscented sensitive skin moisturiser. Obviously, you’re going to tick those things off your bucket list, and I’m sure a couple involve being in the water and sun. We usually advise against being in the water and sun, but obviously, you’re not going to do that, so just don’t be in the sun for too long, and put plasters over them when you go in the water, to try and stop them being infected. It’s not really that big of a deal if they do get infected because…’ ‘I’m dying anyway.’ ‘Yeah, that. So don’t worry about it too much, but just try your best to be careful with them. Oh, and don’t go into hot water, if you can help it. Have cool showers, and not for too long, either. I think that’s it, but if you have any questions, just get my number from Jimin and text or call me. Do you have any questions now?’

‘Only one; would you rather I transferred you the money, or do you want cash?’ ‘y/n, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not charging you,’ he says as though it’s obvious, and I frown. ‘Jungkook.’ ‘No, y/n, I’m not taking money from you.’ ‘Why not? I haven’t got anything else to spend it on, remember? And it’s taken you ages!’ ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not accepting any money from you, and that’s it. I do free tattoos for the boys all the time – Jimin’s got several from me. Just see it as a gift from an old friend,’ he says simply, with a grin, and I can’t help the small smile on my face. ‘Thank you, JK,’ I say, and he grins even wider, his cute little bunny teeth on display. ‘No problem, y/n.’

‘Are you done now? Can we move on to the next thing?’ Tae says excitedly, Jungkook nodding with a laugh at his eagerness. ‘Come on, then,’ Tae says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, dragging me out of the dining room. He leads me towards the back door, pushing it open and moving aside to let me out first, and I gasp when I see the garden. ‘I know it’s not that big but it’s the best I could do,’ Jimin says as I slip on the sliders that he puts down on the floor in front of me, stepping out onto the light wood decking.

Tae and Namjoon’s garden is beautiful – it’s obvious at least one of the two loves gardening. The decking has steps down onto the grass which is healthy and neat, a dark, rich green, and there are trees and flowers of all different colours lining the light wood fence that runs around the garden. Fairy lights are strung up around the fence, casting a warm yellow glow across the space and there’s a fire pit in the middle of the garden, a small fire inside it with a garden furniture set placed around it, four armchairs and two two-seaters.

‘Oh, my God, this is great! Did you already have a fire pit?’ I ask Tae who shakes his head. ‘Jimin went out to buy one earlier,’ he says, and I look to Jimin with a frown. ‘You shouldn’t have. Let me give you the money for it,’ I say, and he shakes his head before I even finish speaking. ‘I don’t think so. Come on,’ he says, holding out an arm to me, and I take it with a begrudging smile. He leads me down the decking steps, across the grass to the bonfire and he sits down in an armchair as I sit in the two-seater beside it, Tae and JK following behind, the leftovers of the Chinese food in Jungkook’s hands.

‘Where are the others?’ I ask, and Jimin looks a little sheepish. ‘I, um, went to get supplies when you were sleeping, right? Well, I bought the fire pit, but I forgot all the other stuff,’ he explains, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘What other stuff?’ I ask, just as Jin and Hobi appear through the back door. ‘The biscuits, the chocolate, the marshmallows, the roasting sticks. Everything else,’ Jin says exasperatedly, the two of them coming to join us.

‘Where are the other two?’ Tae asks as they take their seats, Jin taking a prawn cracker from Jungkook’s lap, the boy shooting him a dirty look. ‘Putting the stuff onto plates for us, because a couple of us are too messy and, apparently, we’ll drop melted marshmallows and chocolate onto the grass and ruin it,’ Hobi says with a roll of his eyes, and I have a feeling he’s quoting Namjoon. ‘Am I wrong, though? There’s still the patch of grass that’s discoloured after Jimin spilled beer on it!’ Namjoon exclaims, holding blankets in his arms, Yoongi following behind with a tray in his hands, paper plates atop the tray. ‘How many times do I have to apologise for ruining your grass before you forget?’ Jimin asks tiredly as Namjoon and Yoongi take their seats, and Namjoon gives him a hard look. ‘As many times as it takes for the grass to return to its proper colour,’ Namjoon says, and I can feel an argument brewing so I quickly change the subject.

‘Shall we get a picture?’ I ask, not realising that another argument is about to start, over who’s going to take the picture. ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been arguing for five minutes! Just let me take the picture!’ Yoongi exclaims (after five minutes of arguing), his annoyance only half-hearted, and I pout. ‘No, Yoongi, I want you in the picture. I want us all in the picture,’ I say, Jin sighing and grabbing his temples before sending Namjoon to ask their nice neighbour, Mr Lee. I feel bad for disturbing him at 9.09pm on a Wednesday, but they insist. It’s more than a little awkward when he starts asking questions and Jimin says with a grin, ‘we’re ticking off y/n’s summer bucket list because she’s got a brain tumour and she’s going to die in a week.’ It’s like he can’t take the pictures quick enough after that, practically sprinting out of the garden once he’s done.

Yoongi gives us all our plates, Jungkook balancing his on one knee whilst he eats his Chinese food, and I feel pretty stupid when all of them instantly know how to put their s’mores together. ‘Have you never had s’mores before?’ Jimin asks, and I shake my head sheepishly. ‘Here, let me show you. You gotta just put a marshmallow on a stick,’ he says, and I copy the way he spears it on the stick. ‘Then you hold it over the fire for a little while, until it goes a bit brown, and then turn it over the other way,’ he says, holding his stick over the fire, and I do the same, turning it the other way once it’s browned a little. ‘And then you get a piece of chocolate and put it on top of a biscuit. And then you put the marshmallow on top of that. And then you put a piece of chocolate on top of the marshmallow, and another biscuit on top of the chocolate. Then you take it off the stick and… you got your s’more!’ he says, holding his s’more up with a flourish. It looks a lot neater than mine, but I’m still proud of myself for managing to not set fire to anything. ‘Just wait a little for it to cool down. Kook learned that the hard way,’ Jimin says pointedly, the other boy pursing his lips embarrassedly as we all laugh.

The sky is still high and light with clouds, though the sun has disappeared over the horizon, the moon a pale white circle against the soft blue. The air is still warm, but not with the humidity of earlier today, a cool tinge to the breeze that glides across my skin. It’s the perfect summer evening, made even better by the light conversations we have and the alcohol that Taehyung brings out for us – Jimin, Yoongi and Jin drink their soju like it’s going out of fashion, Jungkook, Namjoon and Hobi nursing beers instead whilst Tae and I sip on our Malibu and coke (very little Malibu actually in it). The s’mores are amazing, the warm gooey marshmallow, rich melty chocolate and crunchy sweet biscuits a perfect combination – whoever came up with s’mores is an actual genius.

‘Do you want some more s’mores, y/n?’ Hobi asks once my plate is empty, and I groan, the boys all laughing. ‘I think I’ll explode if I have another. I’ve eaten more today than I have in the last week,’ I say, clutching my stomach. ‘I’ll have one, Hobi,’ Jungkook says with a cheeky grin, and Hobi shoots him a glare, no real venom in it. ‘Get yourself one.’ ‘You offered to y/n!’ ‘You’re not dying in a week,’ Hobi says, eyes instantly flitting to me to see if I mind, but I’m already bursting into laughter, my head falling onto Jin’s shoulder which is shaking from his laughter too.

‘Are we terrible for joking about death?’ Jungkook says once we’ve all calmed down, and I sigh. A cold breeze rushes past us, biting at my skin, and I shiver, pulling my blanket closer around me and shuffling forward in my seat so I sit closer to the bonfire. It’s gotten so much cooler so quickly, all of us wrapped up in blankets. ‘What can we do but joke about it? I think I’d cry if we didn’t,’ I say into the silence, the boys all just listening as I stare into the flickering flames, deeply inhaling the smoky scent in the air.

‘It still doesn’t feel real. How do you prepare yourself for death?’ I ask, voice a little shaky, and Jin puts a hand on my shoulder gently. ‘I wish we could tell you, y/n, and make it easier for you, but it will never be easy to see someone of your age die. Old people, who have lived their lives, they can prepare for death. I don’t think you can. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. We all are,’ he says softly, his kind words bringing a sad smile to my face. ‘Thank you. Thank you all, for doing all this today, and Namjoon and Taehyung, for opening your home to me,’ I say, all of them reflecting my sad smile back at me.

‘We’d have done it even if you weren’t dying, y/n. Please, don’t think we’re only doing this because you’re dying. We’ve all known each other since we were kids. And look at all you did for us. We’d have done all of this for you regardless of your health if you asked us to,’ Namjoon says, and I look at him in confusion, wondering what he means. ‘What did I do for all of you?’ ‘We were talking about this whilst you were asleep. Remember when I was riding my bike past your house, and I fell off it?’ Namjoon asks, the others laughing at the mention, and all of a sudden, a memory I didn’t even know I had appears in my mind.

We must’ve been around 7; I don’t remember what I was doing, but I saw Namjoon on the floor outside of my house through the window, clutching onto his knee with his bike beside him. I ran and got the plasters from where they were in one of the kitchen cupboards, and practically sprinted outside. I sat down on the floor beside Namjoon, and there were tears in his eyes, and his knee was bloody. Not knowing that you’re supposed to clean a cut and disinfect it, I’d just put a plaster on for him, and then my parents saw what was going on, and took Namjoon inside to properly clean the cut, me following them in with his bike in my arms, and then they phoned his mum to let her know what had happened. Our school was a tight knit community and all the parents were friends with each other – they all had each other’s phone numbers.

‘How do you remember that?’ I ask, smiling at the memory, and he grins. ‘It’s the first act of kindness I remember experiencing. And it might have been simple, but it taught me to be kind, and do things for people when I didn’t have to, because that’s what you did for me,’ he says, and then all of the boys share the stories of things I did for them over the years we went to school together.

For Jin, I’d lost one of his crayons and then I’d brought in a whole new pack for him. When his mum mentioned it to my parents and thanked them for buying Jin a new pack, they’d had been confused; they hadn’t bought a new set of crayons. I’d taken in one of my own sets for him without telling them. Jin brought it into school every day and shared it with me and only me, and wrote both of our names on the packaging so that everyone would know that they belonged to the both of us.

For Yoongi, I’d recorded his piano performance at the awards’ evening because I’d overheard his mum saying she’d forgotten her video camera at home and didn’t have a smart phone to record it on. I’d sent it to him that night, letting him know why I’d recorded it, and he’d thanked me before showing his mum. I never knew this at the time, but apparently she was so happy that she cried, and made Yoongi give me a present to thank me. I didn’t know that Yoongi was the one who put the thank you card in my locker with a necklace in it a couple weeks later – he’d been too shy to give it to me face to face (I’d been so confused, wondering who was thanking me and for what). I still wear the necklace sometimes – it’s a silver chain with a little butterfly pendant that rests between my collarbones.

For Hobi, I’d spotted a random bag in the school car park, and checked the belongings to see that it was Hobi’s – his wallet had been in there, along with a load of money and some dance clothes. I’d brought it in the next day and gave it to him, and he’d thanked me profusely. What I didn’t know at the time was that his mum had worked multiple jobs in order to fund his dancing, including buying him all that dance gear, and that he’d thought that someone would’ve stolen it all because they were worth a lot, as well as stealing his wallet. But instead, it’d been returned back to him, with everything still in there.

For Taehyung, I’d been the only one to say I liked his drawing, back when we were little kids. It was of a little alien cartoon character, with a heart shaped head (the same thing he’d been drawing in chalk on the driveway earlier), and everyone else laughed at him and called it silly and said it looked nothing like the real cartoon. But when I told him it was nice and that I thought it was really good, it made him want to draw it more, before he started drawing other things too, and his passion for art had been sparked, all because of a little compliment from me when we could barely write our names.

For Jungkook, I’d been helping clean Dahyun’s house after her house party, and I found him passed out in the upstairs bathroom. I got Dahyun to help me get him into my car, drove him home (I knew his address from a party he’d had once), used his house keys to get him in his house, helped him lie down on the sofa, forced him to drink some water and then left a note beside a full bottle of water to letting him know who’d dropped him off at home. And then I’d locked up after myself and posted the keys through the letterbox. His mum had phoned my parents the next day to thank me profusely, and brought over some cupcakes – they were amazing, by the way.

And for Jimin, maybe the most important of them all – I’d done my end-of-year presentation on eating disorders. We had to do the presentations for our language grade, to show that we could speak with fluency and precision and accuracy, and we were told to do it on an interesting topic so that we would be motivated to write an engaging presentation. Almost everyone else did theirs on superficial things, like their hobby or their favourite celebrity. Mine was one of the only serious ones. Everyone had praised mine – I always was good at language – and I got one of the highest two grades (Namjoon and I competed for the top of the class in every lesson we had together). But what I didn’t know was that, thanks to my presentation, Jimin realised he had an eating disorder. He was virtually starving himself, not eating for days at a time, whilst over exercising, because he hated the way his body looked. And because of the helplines and websites I put at the end of the presentation, he sought help, and spoke to his parents about it. He went to the doctor with his mother, and they put him on a diet plan to get him back to being healthy. I helped him to be healthy again.

My eyes are teary when Jimin finishes speaking. I’m so touched that he remembers, that they all remember the acts of kindness I did for them. And whilst Jimin’s was unintentional, it was still so important, and I’m proud of young me for deciding to do her presentation on a serious topic. I’m proud of her for being such a kind person all the time. This truly is karma – I did these nice things for them back then and they’re repaying that kindness back to me when I need it most. And then I realise why Jimin was so desperate to help me – he just wants to help me like I helped him.

‘So, really, y/n, don’t thank us. We owe you,’ Namjoon says, all of them nodding in agreement, and I beam at them, tears beginning to spill down my face. ‘Don’t cry, because you’ll make me cry!’ Jungkook shrieks, all of us laughing as Jin hands me a tissue, and I dab the tears away. ‘God, what’s wrong with me? I never cry this much usually,’ I say embarrassedly, and Jimin grins. ‘Don’t be embarrassed about crying. I think I’d have cried out all of the water in my body if I were you,’ Jimin says, coaxing a laugh from me. ‘Me, too,’ Jungkook says, sniffling a little, and we all burst into laughter when we see that his eyes are full of tears. ‘My God,’ Jin says, his lip curled up in mock disgust, ‘you really are a cry baby.’ ‘Can you blame me?’ Jungkook asks defensively, wiping his eyes, and Jin’s eyes widen. ‘Yes! You’re not the one dying!’ he exclaims, setting the rest of us off again, our laughter carrying in the cool summer air.

[spaceskam]

our fainted thrill carries on (12/13)

ao3

warning: blood, violence, self-inflicted wound

Of all the ways Michael imagined his day going, he did not expect to be riding to a different city with Jesse Manes in the passenger seat and Maria DeLuca calling him four times in a row.

He had over an hour left, so he decided to pick up the phone despite the fact that he’d been planning to actually go see her in person. The whole mishap with finding out who Sanders was and the stupid piece (that was stuffed under the seat of his truck thanks to Rosa’s last-minute thinking) had put off going to talk to her.

“Hello?” 

“Finally,” Maria scoffed, voice laced with controlled panic, “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Where are you at?”

“Um, a couple hours away. What’s up?” he said. She was quiet for a few seconds.

“Liz is freaking out,” Maria told him, speaking slow like she was making a point, “She-she’s not really making sense, but she said she needs you. Something about Max.”

“Fuck” Michael groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. On one hand, he really needed to go to Max. On the other hand… Alex needed him more. “Uh, look, give me, like, a day, okay? Tell her to get Isobel and I’ll be back. There’s something going on with Alex, so he needs me.”

“Wait, what’s going on with Alex? Is he okay?” she asked, concerning prevalent in her voice. God, they really needed to talk to her.

“I-I don’t know yet. Just, listen, tell Liz I said it’s okay and then get her to talk to you,” Michael decided, his eyes going to his passenger who was clearly listening in. He was slowly forgetting why exactly he’d taken Jesse Manes on this trip in the first place.

“What’s okay? Michael, what is going on?” she demanded. He clutched the steering wheel harder.

“I swear, we’ll talk when I get back, I promise. Just… Just do this for me, okay? Just go help Liz, she needs someone else. I’ll be there before you know it,” he said. Maria was silent for a few seconds before she quietly agreed and the call ended.

“For a creature who has managed to trick people for over two decades, you’re a terrible liar,” Jesse told him, voice far too controlled for Michael’s liking.

“Yeah, well, for a guy with four sons, you’re a terrible fucking father,” Michael sighed, dropping his phone. He pressed on the gas harder.

Why did everything have to happen in one goddamn day?

-

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kyle said.

Alex had recently grown a renewed appreciation for Kyle Valenti, but the last few days had made that appreciation grow immensely. And, the last few hours? He was more thankful than he could even articulate.

Kyle kept checking his head and his arm, just making sure over and over that they weren’t infected. Alex was slowly but surely feeling more like himself and getting stronger, but he was definitely keeping that to himself. He was more than certain that they had cameras on them. They just had to act helpless.

He gave Kyle his arm, letting him check over the stupid fucking brand that made Alex feel ill. He didn’t want that on him. It was made all the worse when Kyle’s hand froze, his thumb hardly an inch beneath the brand. His eyes slowly flickered up to meet Alex’s and then he pressed down. Alex swallowed as he realized there was a chip beneath his skin.

Then the door at the top of the cellar opened, a single file line of three people walking in. One of them was Casey, one of them was who Alex assumed was Grandpa Cameron, and one of whom was Jenna. She had that hardened look on her face, but Alex was no stranger to it. She was playing her part, keeping herself and them safe. He would thank her for it when he didn’t have to act like he hated her.

“What the fuck is the point of all this? We’re human,” Alex said, making sure to maintain an equal amount of venom and fatigue. They couldn’t know he was feeling better.

“I’m sure you know that humans and their aliens… it’s an inseparable bond. Volatile and violent. We just have to wait for yours to show up and we can kill you both,” Grandpa Cameron said. Alex shook his head tiredly.

“I have no alien bond,” Alex said, “But if I did, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Grandpa Cameron continued and Alex hated it because they both knew Michael was probably on his way, “You’re a special one, Alex Manes. It takes a special breed of evil to bond with an alien. I have a working theory that Manes are particularly susceptible to it.”

Alex couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Manes? Wasn’t it a Cameron that fell in love with an alien before? Wasn’t a Cameron the one who snuck away with Nora and gave her information about the raid?

“How cute. You really thought you knew something,” Casey laughed. His face was busted to hell still and, honestly, that made Alex feel better. 

“Oh, you must’ve heard it was a Cameron who bonded, haven’t you?” Grandpa Cameron accused, stepping closer, “Well, you’re wrong. He created the M.V.C. to be what it is today. He studied the bond by tricking an alien into thinking that’s what it was. He was never that stupid.”

Alex didn’t show it on his face, but it clicked that clearly that Cameron was that stupid. He just got his feelings hurt when it in fact wasn’t a bond and his love was one-sided and started a fucking cult in response. 

His eyes looked over them. Casey was beaten, Grandpa Cameron was about to burst with decades of anger, and Cam… Cam had that same brand on her arm. Alex looked over to Kyle. Did they not know who Kyle was? Why hadn’t he been branded?

“What, you worried your boyfriend might know you have a pet alien now?” Casey taunted. Alex’s eyes widened momentarily and then he controlled them, taking this as an advantage.

Alex couldn’t help but smile. “Oh. How cute. You really thought you knew something.”

A flash of anger crossed Casey’s face and he shared a look with Grandpa Cameron. Cam shot him a look and Alex just kept smiling.

“Why don’t you tell me something I want to know and I’ll tell you what you want to know,” Alex said, making a show of moving to lay his back against the wall. He put effort into seeming weaker than he felt. “Tell me what set of aliens you’ve been experimenting on to come to these conclusions and I’ll tell you who my friend here is.”

Alex watched Casey and Grandpa Cameron get visibly a little confused. Kyle was confused too which was fair. But, truly, he wanted to see how far he could convince them that Kyle was his alien. Maybe then they’d be taken aback when Michael showed up, guns blazing and telekinesis in full swing. He had been practicing, after all.

Casey and Grandpa shared a look before they stepped towards Kyle who instantly pushed himself closer to Alex either out of fear or sheer instinct. Alex tilted his head and shook it slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Nuh-uh, you lay a hand on him and I tell you nothing,” Alex said, “And I know much more than you think I do.”

Again, they shared a look. Eventually, they decided they needed to talk before coming back to Alex and the three went back up the stairs. Even when they were gone, Alex didn’t show that he was scared or nervous or anything.

God, please let Michael show up before they realized he didn’t know shit.

-

“If you go in there, they’ll know what you are.”

Michael anxiously tapped the steering wheel as he sat the end of the achingly long driveway. Alex was just inside. He just had to go inside.

“And they’ll know who you are. Will they let you in, or will they shoot you on sight?” Michael wondered. He’d spent most of the drive in silence and, whenever Jesse tried to say some bullshit, he would turn up the volume. He just needed him for bait and information, really. Jesse had told him how dangerous the Camerons were before and that Alex really was in danger.

“Can’t be entirely sure,” Jesse sighed.

“But they know what I am?” Michael clarified, “Like, they know what I look like? You run off the same database?”

“Not necessarily. The Camerons aren’t as technical, they were always very much the brawn of M.V.C.”

“Why do you even have the fucking tattoo on you? If M.V.C. disbanded before you were even let in on the secret, then why do you have it?” Michael wondered. Jesse looked over at him.

“It’s principal, son,” he stated simply, “We bare the weight of our predecessors.”

Michael stared at the house and mulled over those words. Was that why Alex thought that way? Had he rejected so much of Jesse’s ideologies, yet kept that one? God, this was such bullshit. Maybe when this was all over, Alex would let him back into his bed. Even if it was just for one night. They needed it.

Michael took a deep breath and looked over to Jesse. He hated making plans and he hated making plans with Jesse, but Alex never went in blind. Alex always had a plan. Anger never got you anywhere. Anger would get them killed; plans would keep them alive.

“Alright, Dad,” Michael said, flashing a tight smile, “We’re gonna go up there and ask for my brother back in exchange for somethin’ fancy.”

“Excuse me?” Jesse said, raising a controlled eyebrow. It looked too similar, too much like Alex. Michael had to look away.

“You heard me.”

He shut the car off and reached under the seat, pulling out one of Alex’s backpacks that held the piece. He knew he brought it for a reason. Jesse didn’t question what it was, staying silent as he watched Michael put the bag securely on his back.

“Let’s go, Pops.”

With a little bit of a telekinetic shove, the two men began heading straight for the front door. The closer he got, the more he was willing to acknowledge that his plan was indeed half-assed at best. But, still, a half-assed plan was better than no plan. Maybe. Kinda. He was trying, that was the point. 

They knocked on the door and, surprisingly, Jesse played along. Michael was slightly discombobulated at the idea of Jesse actually coming along to help Alex. This was the least volatile he’d ever been. Maybe that coma was good for him. Still, Michael kept one eye on him. All it took was a moment of trust to fuck up everything. He knew that from experience.

The door opened and Jenna Cameron stood on the other side. Michael did his best to hide his confusion and took her tiny eyebrow lift as acknowledgment.

“It’s Manes!” she called. Heavy footsteps came and an old man stepped up. He was tall and lean and walked like he was the king of hell and knew it. For a moment, Michael considered asking for tips on how to do that. 

“Quicker than I thought,” he said. Jesse raised his chin to meet the eyes of the taller and older man, still managing to look down on him.

“Abel,” Jesse greeted. In that moment, Michael understood why Jesse was complying. Michael and Jesse Manes somehow share different hate for the same man. The enemy of my enemy, after all.

“Jesse,” the old man said, looking over to Michael, “And who’s this?”

“My youngest son,” Jesse said easily and, oh, Michael was close to crawling out of his skin. 

“Oh, really?” Abel said, skeptical, “Because last I saw I had your youngest in my basement.” Michael was back to hating the man in front of him.

“Tripp’s long lost son, had ‘em right before he died. Took him in,” Jesse said, taking a step closer and into the house like he was entitled to it. Michael followed his lead. “Now, why don’t we talk about my other son.”

“Don’t come here blaming us, that wasn’t planned. He was trying to play spy,” Abel scoffed, “When my Casey found out, your boy beat the shit out of him. Then we find out he’s still got that alien bond so bad he brought the damn thing with him.”

Now that was confusing. Well, the last sentence. The first bit seemed exactly like Alex. 

“Still can’t figure out why you let him go around like that. Truly shows what kinda bullshit you Manes are capable of,” Abel said, shaking his head, “Too much damn passion in all of you, that’s what my Daddy said.”

“He has an alien with him?” Michael asked, unable to stop himself. He got more attention than he would’ve liked. “I-I mean, I thought we effectively got him away from all of those creatures.” The words sounded wrong in his mouth and that didn’t go unnoticed. Abel eyed him slowly.

“Tripp’s boy, you said? Makes sense,” he said, shaking his head, “He’s got an alien with him. Which definitely makes it more worth my while to keep him. Your boy thinks we got live experiments outside of him.”

“My son isn’t your experiment,” Jesse said, still cold as ice, “It’s in your best interest to hand him over along with whatever alien you think he has.”

Michael could feel Cam’s eyes on him. He carefully let his eyes drift to hers. She covered her mouth to cough and used the motion to nod towards a door. Michael slowly began to feel out the lock to it with his mind. When she coughed again, he didn’t miss the way she held up three fingers. Three guards. 

“That would definitely not be in my best interest and you know it. I got exactly what I’ve been trying to get when your selfish old man kept all the live specimen to yourself,” Abel said.

“Chances are what you have are my boy and a Valenti boy, not an alien,” Jesse corrected, “If you did any kind of testing, you would know that.”

Abel eyed him suspiciously and didn’t seem to notice when the lock clicked. 

“A Valenti boy?” Abel said, seeming confused, “I thought they were all dead.”

“Jim wasn’t the brightest man, but he knew better than to make his son easily accessible.”

So that was a choice Jesse made. At least he could admit that.

Neither men noticed when Cam slipped into the door. Michael had full faith she could handle the guards well enough. Either that or she could at least talk to Kyle and Alex, prepare them to get the fuck out of there. 

“No alien. So why don’t you let my son and the Valenti boy go,” Jesse said. Abel seemed to consider it for only a few seconds before he shook his head.

“Your son is still bonded with one of them. The specimen will come for him eventually,” Abel said definitively. Jesse didn’t bother to spare him a passing glance, another point of self-control that Alex had and Michael most definitely did not.

“This bond you keep talking about, it’s not even real. Your entire ideology is built off something baseless,” Jesse argued. Hypocrite. “No one but me is coming.”

“I’ll just have to keep him and see.”

“Wait,” Michael said, catching both their attention, “I have an alien artifact. Authentic. I give you that, you give us them.”

Abel stared at Michael for far too many seconds. He just fucking wanted Alex.

“Let me see.”

“I don’t trust you,” Jesse said, “Show us Alex first.”

Again, more fucking staring. Eventually, though, he caved and they were being led towards that door Cam had disappeared behind. Michael clutched onto the backpack even tighter, giving that piece a tiny goodbye. As much as he wanted it and as much as he’d ruined shit with Alex over it, it seemed like a far too easy trade to save Alex in exchange.

It took an unprecedented of willpower not to run up to Alex and collapse onto him when he saw him. He looked tired, smeared makeup on his face. But he was standing and that was good. He was leaning on Kyle and showing no visible emotion as he saw Michael, but his eyes betrayed how thankful he was to see him. He needed a fucking hug.

But, unlike Abel, Michael didn’t miss the fact that there were no guards and no Cam. He swept his eyes over Alex, spotting bloody knuckles and a red spot on his forehead like he’d headbutted someone. There were a few racks of wine‒how many unconscious men laid behind them after underestimating Alex? Michael held back a big smile.

“Right, now give me the artifact,” Abel demanded.

“Give it to you while we’re in your basement? Idiotic, we’re going back upstairs and taking the boys,” Jesse ordered, gesturing back towards the steps. Michael was uncomfortably thankful for Jesse. It was easy to forget that he was actually cunning. Just not as cunning as Alex was.

They slowly made it up the stairs in a line, everything too easy and too military. Michael was just fucking waiting for something to be weird or wrong. He kept stealing glances at Alex, watching as he all but clung to Kyle. He itched for him.

Once they all got on the ground floor again (Cam appearing at the top of the steps after everyone else, her hair a little disheveled), Michael shifted the bag and unzipped it. He ignored the slightly horrified look from Alex as he pulled out the piece. Abel’s eyes widened with greed, stepping towards it.

And then things got a little weird.

Before Abel could get his hands on it, Alex and Jesse both seemed to have the galaxy-brained idea to knock him out. Jesse swung with an open fist and Alex with a closed on either side of his head, quickly rendering him unconscious and probably fucking with his entire equilibrium. He fell to the floor and Michael stared, dumbfounded.

“What the fuck are you waiting for, Guerin? Move,” Alex pushed, shoving his back gently so they could head towards the door. But Michael looked up at Jesse.

“Do you really think I’m giving this family anything? He should feel lucky he even knows the secret,” Jesse said, eyeing him with that familiar judgment, “You seemed far too comfortable with that.”

“We can talk later, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Cam said.

They all started running to the truck and maybe Michael should’ve thought it through. It wasn’t really big enough for all of them. Still, there wasn’t much thinking. Cam went for the driver’s seat and Kyle went for the passenger door. Michael jumped into the bed and reached out to pull Alex up too.

“Stop!” Alex said, causing all of them to freeze as he held out his arm. Michael felt sick at the sight of that three-headed trident. “I can’t leave. He put a fucking chip in me, he’s going to track me and we’re all fucked.”

“Then you cut it out,” Jesse instructed, not missing a beat. Alex didn’t even seem phased. Jesse pulled a pocket knife out of nowhere‒maybe Michael should’ve checked for weapons‒and took a step towards Alex. He grabbed Alex’s arm.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Alex spat, ripping out of his grip and taking a step back. 

“Then show me you’re a man and do it yourself,” Jesse said, voice stern as he held out the knife to Alex.

Michael hated the interaction and, despite all the help Jesse had done, he was quickly reminded why he hated him so much. His existence alone ate at the person Alex was. He was poison and Alex, no matter how strong, couldn’t seem to stop himself from giving it attention. 

Alex took the knife and, without hesitation or screaming or anything, cut into his forearm. Kyle hissed and went to move closer, but Cam grabbed the back of his shirt and basically yanked him into the passenger seat of the truck. Michael watched with bated breath as Alex dug into his own arm and pulled out the chip. Alex looked at his dad before looking up at Michael. With a quick nod of his head, he sent the chip flying somewhere to get lost on the property.

“Are we done being dramatic?! Let’s fucking go!” Cam yelled.

Jesse didn’t even so much as spare a bit of praise as he took his knife back and sandwiched Kyle inside the cab of the truck. Michael carefully lifted Alex into the bed and Cam was speeding away before they could even get settled. They laid down, close just like old times. Except this time Alex was bleeding all over.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Alex hissed, his body jostling with each bump they hit, “Bringing my father and then offering to trade that piece for me? Have you lost your mind? I was expecting you to come alone.”

“I would’ve fucked up things if I came alone,” he said, moving to put his arm beneath Alex’s head so he wouldn’t hurt himself more, “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, I just fucking cut my arm open!”

“Hey,” Michael said, whispering despite the wind making it difficult to hear, “You trust me?”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows, trying to gauge what was on Michael’s mind. But, honestly, despite all the commotion, he was more at peace than he had been in a long time. Alex was alive and there was literally nothing else he could do but stare at him for the next three hours. Might as well be at peace.

And might as well keep him safe.

“Trust you?” Alex echoed. Michael slowly moved Alex’s hand off the open wound, closing his palm over it. 

“Yeah. You trust me?”

He wasn’t quite sure he could do it, but he could definitely try. He’d been feeling a whole bunch of emotions all day… might as well direct them somewhere. All he had to do was focus, right? Besides, they still had a lot of day left. Something was going on with Max. This was just the beginning and Michael had enough drive to push himself to do something with that underused power he’d kept pent up all day.

Alex took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

“I trust you.”

[kweebtrash]

Smut Prompt 80

JaehyunxReader

Fluff, slight angst, slight smut

1.4k words

Features: snuggling, cockwarming, kissing/caressing

Masterlist  Buy me a Ko-Fi    

80: “I don’t know if it’s a sexual thing or not.”

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun whispered softly. I’m sure he had noticed the way I was clutching my cell phone and sniffling as I read through the contents of the incoming text message. I had stared at the letters until they had become nothing but blurs behind the wateriness of my eyes.

“I-it’s nothing...” I failed to hide the wavering in my voice.

He wrapped an arm around my waist tighter, keeping me as the little spoon in the confines of his small bed. “You’re basically crying and staring at your phone. Is it another dog video? You know, it’s not supposed to be emotional when puppies run-”

“No, it’s not puppies.” He knew that I had always been emotional over adorable animal videos and had to deal with me viciously sobbing and yelling for him to look at corgi running on their stumpy legs or something of that nature. I only wished that was the case this time. “It’s just...it’s something going on with an old childhood friend of mine. She’s not doing to well.”

“Shit.” He propped himself on his elbow and looked down at me. “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you know before we-?” He gestured vaguely to our naked bodies beneath the comforter that had been in a refractory period for awhile. “You could’ve have told me to stop. I would have-”

I shifted myself around to face him, laying my head on his warm broad chest. “Jae, I didn’t know until just now. You’re fine. The sex was great as usual.”

“Well now you’re sad and you being sad makes me sad.” He kissed the top of my head as he pet my hair back, his lengthy fingers combing through my after sex hair with still some relative ease. “Is it an illness?”

I nodded. “I dont think she’s going to make it...” I replied though the words were muffled by his chest as well as another round of sobs that were threatening to spill out.

“Angel...I’m so sorry.”

I smiled solemnly. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Things happen, just at the worst possible timing.”

Jaehyun laid back to rest his head on the pillows, keeping an arm around my shoulders. His protectiveness was already starting to kick in. He had been that way since we had first met in university but it gained traction when he finally asked me out. Seeing me in pain, or sad, or even hurt as the result of the rare times we had an argument, would put him in a state of apologetic despair and empathy. He wouldn’t leave my side or let me go. I was forever in his arms to be met with his love and affection in a way I never experienced before. He was almost too perfect of a prince charming to be true and I would have questioned if he was real if it weren’t for the fact that he was so socially awkward and almost incapable of not spacing out at the worst times. His dorkiness made him that much more perfect to me and I was grateful that his stupid beautiful face was something i got to kiss every night.

“I wish there was something more I could do to help.”

“You being here with me is enough. I don’t feel as lonely as I would be if you weren’t.”

He sighed softly and set his hand over mine that rested on his toned stomach. Gently, he interlocked our fingers, seeming to dwarf mine instantly. His thumb brushed against the back of my hand. “I would never leave you lonely. Swear on it.”

“I know, you big softie.” Our eyes met then and he leaned towards me to place a sweet kiss on my lips then butted his forehead against mine. He scrunched his nose like a little rabbit, making me finally giggle in my moment of bleakness. Though my heart continued to be heavy, he was slowly adding light back into it. For the moment I could ease the heaviness around me though i’m sure it would return soon. But he would be there for me every step of the way. I closed my eyes and listened to the soft drum of his heartbeat. I was almost lulled into sleep when i heard the sweetness of his voice forming into the melody of the latest song that had caught his attention. His voice was nothing but comfort. Even as he sang carelessly his pitch and tone was perfect and angelic. Discovering his talent was a surprise and yet when he would share it with me my heart stopped. The song filled me with nothing but warmth and i squeezed his hand tighter. My mind was swirling now and went into a frenzy where he buried his face in my hair and shifted the lyrics into a whisper. “Jae?” I asked, though I hated to interrupt.

“Hmm?”

“Is it okay if maybe um...you...could like...possibly go back inside me and just stay there?”

His eyes that had closed during his miniature concert opened wide in confusion. “Um...like right now? I thought you were feeling down. isn’t that weird? To do that while you’re sad?”

“I don’t know if it’s a sexual thing or not.  I mean, i know in the physicality of it, it is. However, when we do it it’s just more so...intimate. It makes me feel like i’m connected to you, like you’re protecting me even more. I’m sorry. This is probably so strange.” I didn’t dare look at him now as i was reeking of embarrassment.

“No, no! I didn’t mean to shame you or anything. I mean, i kind of feel the same way. I get all those dumb warm and gushy feelings.” He chuckled.

“Now you’re just making it gross.” I teased playfully.

“You’re the one who wanted it first!” He smiled and shifted me on top of him. I held onto his broad shoulders as i dipped my head low so our lips could meet. The smooth tenderness of his lips caressed mine, sending small shivers down my spine. No matter what I had been feeling, a simple kiss melted away my worries as I clutched onto him harder. Jaehyun adjusted me so my hips settled above him. He set the pace of the tentative grinding, still unsure of my feelings though I knew I wanted him to continue. The softness of his cock deviated into hardness little by little with the accompaniment of my own growing wetness. His lips parted and his tongue delved into my mouth, coaxing moans out of me. The sides of my torso were showered with heated caresses that spread to the small of my back and down to my ass which he cupped rather roughly. He hiked me up higher on his body so the tip of his head could rock through my lower lips and tease my clit. He followed my moan with a low grunt of his own and my ears perked up at the sound.

I loved the way he sounded and even if the intent wasn’t to drive him into another round of thigh aching sex, i still wanted to hear how well I was making him feel. He parted away from me for a moment to lap at my bottom lip before giving it a teasing bite. “You’re eager now.” I mumbled and shifted my head to nuzzle the crook of his neck.

“Just eager to please as always. Anything for my angel.”

A sweet heat scattered across my cheeks and i hit his chest gently. “S-shut up.”

He chuckled lowly and set his large hand between us. “Open.” He commanded with such docility.

I spread my thighs a little wider, allowing him room to flow back inside me like he had been just an hour or two ago. I lost time when I was with him but now that we were connected again nothing mattered. It was just me and him, arms wrapped around one another tight and an inevitable sleep in our future. I could forget about the bad things until morning came and he would embrace me all over again.

[thewhumperinwhite]

Café: Treetops

Previous: Teaser 1, Teaser 2, Hospital/Squad Car, Empty Bar, Used Car Lot 1, Used Car Lot 2, Gas Station, Roadside 1, Roadside 2, Forest

TW for: illness/fever, mention of decapitation/murder, smoking mention, very lightly implied parental neglect, Thing That Seems Like Deadnaming For A Second But Take This As My Personal Guarantee That Sol’s Deadname Will Never Be Said Out Loud In This Story.

Also i’m not gonna check but i think this might be the first chapter where Sol smiles? so look forward to that.

@whumpitywhumpwhump

----

Rainwater is dripping from Sol’s hair down the bridge of his nose and soaking into his shirt collar, even though if you asked him five minutes ago he’d have told you his poor abused work shirt had absorbed literally all the liquid it could physically hold. 

“Just for the record,” Kent says in a slightly breathless voice, “when I used the phrase ‘huddled in trees,’ that was sarcasm.”

Sol thinks about rolling his eyes, but given that nobody would see it from this angle, he doesn’t bother and just leaves his eyes closed instead.

“Funny,” Pax snaps, sounding, at least, no longer pretend-cheerful. “When I told you to shut the fuck up, I was serious.” Sol can hear them shifting, but doesn’t turn to look, partly because he does not care and partly because he thinks he might fall out of the tree if he tries.

“I think you should both shut up,” he says flatly, knowing he’s wasting his fucking breath.

It does earn him almost a full minute of silence, which is a step up, technically.

“The bleeders are too clumsy to climb trees,” Pax says testily, apparently unable to help themself. “Therefore, being the wonderful, coordinated living beings that we are, we are taking advantage of that weakness.”

“I know that,” Kent says, also sounding slightly testy, but even more tired and kind of in pain. “I am aware of the logic, but I gotta say that I am not feeling super coordinated at the moment.”

“I know that,” Sol growls. “I was the one who had to help you up, and since we are all fuckin’ exhausted from that little ordeal, how about we all just go the fuck to sleep, huh?”

Kent makes a noise that is probably supposed to convey irritation but just sounds sort of— pathetic. “I can’t sleep. I don’t understand how either of you can sleep when it’s so hot up here.”

Sol blinks his eyes open. That— does not sound like a great sign.

Careful not to overbalance and throw himself off the narrow branch currently supporting his ass, Sol cranes around the trunk of the tree to squint through the driving rain at Kent, who is leaning back against the tree with his eyes closed. Sol half-carried him up this bigass goddamn tree and set him with more care than he wants to admit in the stablest position he could find, at the fork of two large branches, but at the moment his perch there looks kind of precarious.

Checking to see that Paxon, on the opposite side and several branches higher than either himself of Kent, probably can’t see— not that he cares what they think— he leans carefully forward to lay his wrist against Kent’s forehead. It’s hard to be sure of anything when the freezing rain has turned his hands and arms into icicles, but the heat coming off Kent’s face almost makes him jump.

“Aw, great,” he mumbles, grabbing hold of his own branch so he can lean forward a little more to examine Kent’s face, which, now that he’s looking, does have kind of a greenish cast to it. “Hey, man,” he says softly, giving Kent a gentle poke on a part of his cheekbone that doesn’t seem to be bruised yet. “How ya feeling?”

Without opening his eyes, Kent heaves a tired sigh that turns halfway through into a cough. Sol freezes like a popsicle, going very quickly back over the last several hours to try and determine whether one of the bleeders could possibly have bitten him without Sol noticing— but Kent’s brief coughing fit fails to bring up any red-flecked phlegm, so Sol tries to reel in his panic. He doesn’t sound crazy, anyway— just sick. 

“Not very good,” Kent croaks, letting his eyes drift open. They look kinda glassy, but Sol sees with knee-weakening relief that they are not particularly bloodshot. “Too warm. And also shivery.”

“I fuckin’ bet,” Sol says. “You look like microwaved dogshit, dude.”

Sol chews his lip, something uncomfortably close to worry churning in his stomach. When he doesn’t move away, Kent laughs faintly, though it turns into a cough at the end.

“You sure you want to get that close?” he asks, smiling a little, though it doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. Sol doesn’t think Kent’s smiles usually do, actually.

Sol blinks. “Huh?”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll suddenly decide to take a bite out of your arm?” Kent says, and it sounds like it’s trying to be a joke but isn’t quite making it.

Sol stares at him for a second. Then he snorts.

“Please,” Sol says, smirking. “You? I could definitely take you, crazy or not, you fucking stick. Besides, look.” Sol fishes around in the pockets of his sopping-wet jacket, ignoring Kent’s look of utter confusion.

His lighter is freezing and dripping wet, and who knows if it’ll still work as an actual lighter after this, but it makes a serviceable mirror, in a pinch. He holds it up so that Kent is blinking into his own wide blue eyes.

“See?” Sol says, and is surprised at the softness of his own voice. “Not a drop of blood in sight, man. You’re probably just feverish from running around in the mud with open cuts and stuff.”

“Heartening,” Kent says, reaching up to change the angle of Sol’s grip.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Sol says, smirking.

And then Sol suddenly realizes that Kent’s hand is wrapped loosely around his own, and is horrified to feel his own cheeks heating up, which is--so fucking stupid.

“Who’s ‘Rina’?” he asks curiously, blinking down at the lighter, and Sol starts badly, jerking his hand away like Kent’s question burns his fingers.

“No one,” he barks, shoving the lighter back into his pocket, leaving Kent with his hand still outstretched and lips parted slightly in surprise.

“Oh,” Kent says, blinking. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to— “ He pulls back, looking carefully anywhere but at Sol’s face. “Sorry.”

Sol stares at Kent. Kent stares at the unnervingly-far-away ground.

Goddammit, it’s like kicking a puppy.

“Ugh,” Sol growls, running a hand through his hair. “Look, fine, whatever, don’t look at me like that— Karine is my little sister, okay? She always hated it when I smoked, so she used to steal my lighter all the time. That’s why it’s— that’s why.”

He had been very mad at the time, in high school at some point, when he had finally wrestled his lighter back from her— after almost a week of searching and shouting half-hearted threats at her when their father wasn’t home, which was often— only to find that she had scratched Sol Sux Shit on one side and her own big girly signature on the other, with a big fucking heart around it. He didn’t talk to her for a few days after that.

He didn’t throw the lighter away, though, either. That was junior year, or thereabouts; he’d been Sol for a short enough time that seeing the name scratched permanently into metal was--something, even if it was followed by the words “sux shit.”

It’s been— Christ, almost four years since he’s seen her, which means she’s all grown up and definitely has at least two boyfriends by now. That thought makes him unconsciously ball up his fists, and then he’s distracted by the sound of Kent laughing at him.

“Wha— what are you laughing at?” Goddammit, is he blushing again?

“I’m s-sorry,” Kent says, amid honest-to-god giggles. “I-it’s just— your face—!”

Sol just barely resists the urge to cover his cheeks, trying to will the heat back out of them. “Sh-shut up, I was just—” He pulls up short. “H-hey— are you okay?”

Kent is doubled up with hard, damp-sounding coughs, so much so that Sol has to dart out a hand to keep him from falling forward off the branch.

“Kent— hey—”

As he’s readjusting himself to hold up Kent’s weight without falling off his own branch, there’s a rustling in the branches above them, and Paxon Field drops abruptly onto the end of Kent’s branch, like an enormous pink cat.

“Let me see your hand,” they say sharply. When Kent doesn’t immediately respond, they reach forward to tug his hand away from his face.

“Hey!” Sol snaps, trying to shove them back, “what the hell are you—”

“Shut up,” Pax says, turning Kent’s hand over so they can examine both sides. Finding no blood on it, they relax, their hand sliding off the hilt of their sword.

“Idiot,” they say, not unkindly, and reach up to lay their wrist against Kent’s forehead. Kent, his coughing fit finally starting to subside, lets them, his weight pressing into Sol’s chest in a way that is— neither embarrassing nor pleasant but in fact entirely neutral, fuck you. Pax sighs. “You’re burning up, you dumbass.”

“That’s not exactly his fault,” Sol snaps, to his own surprise more than anyone else’s. Pax raises their eyebrows at him. Kent’s eyes flutter shut. “Well,” Sol goes on, into Pax’s surprised stare. “We’ve been wandering around in the rain for a long time. He’s got— broken bones and stuff.”

Paxon gives Sol a look he can’t quite read, and then frowns down at Kent, whose cheek now sits just under Sol’s collarbone, like coughing has used up all his remaining energy. “How long have you been feelin’ the shivers, sunshine?” they bark.

Grumbling like an annoyed child, Kent turns away from Paxon, which involves burying his face against the sodden front of Sol’s shirt. Sol freezes, a violent electrical current making its way up his spine. When Kent mumbles his answer (which is unintelligible but seems to contain the words “the car”), Sol can feel his lips move against his chest, and would readjust if he could move. ...probably.

“Then it’s entirely your fault, you daft idiot,” Paxon snaps, annoyed. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Kent turns back, opening one blue eye. “I suppose,” he says coldly, “I was worried you’d decapitate me.”

Paxon, to Sol’s surprise, starts like they’ve been hit. There’s a very awkward silence. Sol is afflicted with a bizarre desire to laugh.

Then Paxon growls, long and low, and starts their descent out of the tree.

“Uh,” Sol calls after them. “Where are you going?”

“To get sunshine some medicine, I guess,” they shout back, bitterly. “Since neither of you is in any way equipped for survival, apparently.”

Sol stares down at the top of their head as they make their weirdly nimble way down out of the tree. Then he looks down at Kent, who is also frowning down at Paxon’s retreating form.

“Someone should go with them,” Kent mutters.

Sol shifts uncomfortably. “You can’t stay in this tree by yourself.”

An embarrassed flush makes its way into Kent’s pale cheeks, and he shoots Sol an apologetic look from under his lashes. Sol’s brain stops working for a second and he misses what Kent says next, but makes an educated guess that it’s some variation of “sorry for the trouble.”

“Don’t be dumb,” he says, biting his lip.

Sol runs through their options in his head, and from the unhappy look on Kent’s face he suspects the blonde is doing the same.

“Fuck,” Sol mutters, and then, making sure Kent has a firm grip on the tree trunk to go with the confused look on his face, turns himself very carefully around on his own branch so his back is to Kent, the blonde’s bony knees digging into his back slightly.

“Um,” Kent says.

“Shut up,” Sol snaps. “Put your arms around my shoulders. Try not to choke me or we will both fall and die.”

“Um,” says Kent.

Sol takes a moment to bury his rapidly-reddening face in his hands and groan because why does shit like this keep happening to him. “Paxon shouldn’t go by themself, and you can’t stay here or climb down. This is the only fucking solution, okay? I don’t like it anymore than you do, so shut up and get on.”

There’s another terrible silence, which Sol uses to pray to anybody who might be listening to give him a fucking break already.

Moving carefully, like he’s waiting for Sol to stop him, Kent slides his slim arms around Sol’s shoulders, knitting his fingers together around Sol’s chest and being careful to avoid his windpipe. After a moment’s hesitation, he moves closer, awkwardly scooting forward so his legs are wrapped around Sol’s waist.

Sol, very aware of Kent’s chest and biceps and thighs, clears his throat loudly.

“Okay,” he says, trying his very best to sound businesslike. “I need my hands to do the tree-climbing thing, so hold on, yeah?”

Sol can feel the heat coming off of Kent’s face where it’s buried against his shoulder even through the thick wool of his jacket, though he can’t tell how much of that is the fever and how much is embarrassment roughly equivalent— if there is a loving god— to his own.

“Yeah,” Kent mumbles miserably into Sol’s jacket. Sol feels a slightly insane giggle building in his chest. 

“Okay,” Sol says slowly. “I am now moving to the next branch over. You good?”

“Perfect,” Kent says in a very muffled voice, and shifts slightly against Sol’s back. Sol clears his throat again, and reaches out for the next branch, shifting so that he’s carrying most of Kent’s weight.

“Christ, do you ever eat?” he says before they can stop himself. God, maybe they will make it to the ground, after all. “My sister’s cat weighs more than you.”

Kent, his face very warm indeed, chooses not to respond. In fact, he keeps his mouth mercifully shut for almost the whole awkward, painful climb down, and Sol’s left foot is actually on solid ground when he finally mumbles, so low Sol can’t be entirely sure of the words, “Thanks, Sol. You’re wonderful.”

Sol freezes with one foot still on the lowest branch, feeling an unfamiliar sort of heat spreading in the center of his chest. Before he can stop it, his mouth twitches into something that feels suspiciously like a grin.

The feeling fades pretty quickly when he turns and sees the color Pax is turning from trying to hold in their amusement. Seeing Sol’s fiery glare and immediate, violent blush, they give up and throw their head back, sending bright peals of laughter up into the still-raining sky.

Sol bristles, his hands tightening under Kent’s thighs. “Sh-shut up! Don’t— don’t laugh at me!”

Pax laughs hard, holding their stomach. “Your face!” they crow delightedly. “You’re turning purple, babe!”

Sol’s blush doesn’t get any worse, but probably only because there’s no more blood left in the rest of him. “Shut up!” he squawks. “It’s your fault for leaving us up there, anyway!”

Pax shakes their head, grinning. “I didn’t say you had to come with me,” they point out. 

“Kent didn’t want you wandering off by yourself,” Sol snaps, looking over his shoulder. “Did y— oh.”

Kent, his lips slightly parted and rain making his long lashes sparkle a little in the moonlight, has rested his head against Sol’s shoulder and is breathing long and steady, his breath making faint snuffling noises through his broken nose.

Sol stares a little.

“What’s up with sunshine?” Paxon says, a trace of worry in their voice. “He’s not dead, is he?”

“No,” Sol says, a confused smile spreading over his face. “I think he’s fallen asleep.” Looking carefully anywhere but at Paxon’s stupid smug grin, he clears his throat. “Let’s just go. I’ll carry him. He isn’t heavy.”

[hellolittleogre]

Happy Holidays and have some fic!

  Home made from me to you, the continuation of Billy x Goody College AU, Idiots in Love pt 2. Thank you all for this year, for encouragement and flailing and AUs. 

May you have some days of rest, peace and food however you do or do not celebrate.

  Billy was hungover, feeling like an idiot and nursing a large cup of coffee and browsing the campus bookshop for a suitable valentines card for Jujin. He hadn't told her about the whole Vasquez debacle, still feeling pretty fragile about it and not able to stand her reaction of incredulous pity, exasperation and downright ridicule that was no doubt coming his way. 

The first valentines card Billy had ever sent, or rather had made, with chubby fingers sticky with white glue and glitter, way back in playschool, had been for Jujin and his mother, and so it felt like a good gesture. A “no hard feelings” kind of gesture. A “I guess you kind of outed me but it turned out alright in the end, and all in all I’m kind of glad to have it done because it would have been difficult as hell to introduce our mother to my legally wedded husband and our adopted kids 15 years down the line, so it’s all good, put please for the love of God don’t do it again” kind of gesture.The trick was to find a card which was nice, yet still patently ridiculous, since nobody wanted a sincere valentines card from their brother. He was choosing between a card with a very grave looking cartoon T-Rex holding a heart, and a card with a big yellow rose saying “HAVE A GAY VALENTINE!” which seemed funny, but also slightly passive aggressive, when his eye caught on a postcard.

It wasn't specifically a valentines card, instead it was a water colour depiction of a hazy moon, full and white, over the water of a calm pond. Little wisps of cloud were trailing around the moon, softening it, almost like a veil, and muted green tones around the edge of the water-mirror hinted at lush vegetation. On the back it said La Lune, Metropolitan Museum of Art. It wasn't strictly speaking a valentines card but it was so Goodnight that Billy didn't hesitate for a moment and left the shop with it and the t-Rex valentine in secure possession.

 Delivering it to Goodnight was easy. They all had their cubbyholes in the lobby and leaving for lectures on the 14th Billy quickly looked around to make sure he was alone before sticking the unassuming white envelope into the cubbyhole. He had settled for printing Will You Be My Valentine? and nothing else at the back, figuring that was mysterious enough without driving Goody into a frenzy trying to figure out who wrote it. He'd never squashed little handwritten notes into a crush’s locker in high school so he figured he was owed the experience. All day there was a little jitter of excitement and he firmly ignored the little voice that said that if he had any balls at all he'd give it to Goodnight in person and come clean.  

Coming home he immediately spotted the card lying on Goody's desk. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done not to look at it and just walk over to his bed like normal. Goody seemed in a good mood, humming softly and hanging out the window smoking and picking up Billy’s valentine’c card and tapping his fingers against it. It was sort of a breathtaking feeling. He had done that, he'd caused that little dreamy smile that hovered just at the edge of Goody's mouth, and it made him want to preen and puff up. 

“You want a chocolate?” Goodnight asked leaning into the room to look at Billy. 

“You got chocolates?” Billy asked, crestfallen,and tried not to feel upstaged by Sam again. As if Billy was not upstaged by Sams whole existence.

“They were giving them out for free at the health center,” Goody shrugged and pushed a small pink box towards Billy. 

“At the health center?” Billy asked and took one. “Are you feeling ok? Not ill?”

“No, I’m fine, I have a standing appointment with a hmm, uh, a counselor,” he shrugged it away looking a little pink so Billy elected to let it slide in favour of stuffing his mouth with chocolate. His mom had always told him he would grow out of his sweet-tooth but so far it hadn't happened.

 “Happy valentines,” Goody said with a smirk and Billy tossed him a chocolate. “Any roses and flowers?”

Billy huffed. “Not that I know of. They could of course have gotten delivered to my other dorm room, with my other roommate.”

“Yeah, that place is probably so full you can't even see the floor,” Goodnight said with a bark of laughter. 

“And they're all from your mother,” Billy returned, pleasantly warmed by Goody’s slender fingertips against the shiny surface of the card and his attention. 

“Too bad she's wasting her time when all you want is my daddy's dick.”

Heat exploded all over Billy's face. It might be the way Goody's mouth curled around the word daddy, all fat and satisfied and filthy, his crooked smile, or hearing him saying “dick” that casually, or too close to what Billy actually wanted for him to control himself, but he blushed so hard he could physically feel his cheeks pulse and his eyes dropped immediately to the hands in his lap.

The silence was deafening.

 He could hear Goodnight moving but he didn't think he could look up even if he was offered good money for it. 

“Aw, shit Billy. Shit, I'm so sorry. I talk too much, everyone says so. I didn't mean to…”Goody's hand was warm on his shoulder and Billy darted a glance at his face before looking away again. 

“‘S OK,” he managed, all cotton mouthed. 

Goody was just there, close. If Billy leaned any closer he could push his face into his crotch. Mouth at the fly and unzip him, sneak one hand up under his t-shirt and fit his palm to the crest of his hip bone. Would Goody say no?Or would he let him?

“Lets just see if you got any mail though,yeah? Did you check your mail?”

Goody ushered him down to the lobby, dithering about this and that, leaning more heavily on the French than he used to, a sure sign of how flustered he was. Billy was still feeling the smarting sting of his previous stupidity, as well as the whole mess about Vasquez and wondering how to take it back or bring it up again. He didn't want Goody to assume he was carrying some hopeless torch for Vasquez, or that he was his one true love and would never look at anybody else, he just didn't want Goody to think that the boy he had a crush on was Goodnight.

 If he hadn't been so surprised he would have thought of better lie, like the boy in the coffee shop or the tall guy who checked books at the library or basically anybody else other than someone both Billy and Goodnight talked to every day. 

His cubbyhole had an unexpectedly rich yield with a card from his mother, and a pizza flier with a two for one offer but Billy's attention was distracted by a chocolate box at the very bottom of the drawer. He pulled it out and looked at it. It didn't look like a commercial offer but there wasn't a card or note and he kept turning it over and frowning.

“Did you get one of these?” he asked Goody, waving the box and Goodnight frowned and shook his head. “There is no note,” he said, turning the box over again and Goody bent down to pick up a folded piece of paper by his foot.

“Maybe this?” he started and then trailed off. “Its...uh. Its from Vasquez. Cool! That’s uh, really cool.Chocolates from your crush on valentines! Wow!” Goody said with a bright smile, handing the note to Billy. It was handwritten in an uneven scrawl: Happy Valentines, enjoy! / Vasquez

Billy stared at it with narrowed eyes. He was 90% certain Vasquez wasn’t the type to buy chocolates for Valentines for the person he was dating, let alone a friend. He was also 90% sure that if Vas was trying to get into his pants it would be through the means of a bottle of tequila and a frank question rather than what looked like Mexican Ferrero-Roche.With Goody heading back to their room Billy clutched his trove to his chest and fished out his phone. Vas picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Chaparrito, how’s it going?”

“Why the fuck do I have chocolates from you?” Billy said, never one for circumspection, and Alejandro laughed.“Its my abuelita, man. She gets them from her work and always picks up at least two cartons of chocolate, they are left-overs from last year, so she sends a ton to my ma. She says that when I was in pre-school I had so many novias there weren’t enough to go around. And they were all called Maria.” He sounded nostalgic.

Billy frowned even harder.“Your grandma has sent me old chocolates because she thinks I’m your bitch?”

“Dude, that is not what novia means. Also if I had bitches then Emma would be my bitch, and you would be my side-bitch. At best.”

“Aren’t I fucking lucky,” Billy groused and Vasquez made an indignant sound.

“Hey cabron, you could just say thank you.I could have given those to at least three girls in my course. I could even have let those go into the bottomless hole that is Josh, but instead I hauled ass all over campus to stick those up your letterbox, so now you had better appreciate your not even expired chocolates.”

“Ugh, I’m so touched. Your grandma chocolates are the most romantic thing to ever happen to me.”

“You’re an ingrate, shorty. Did you get one of those pizza leaflets? Josh and I are using one to go and crash Emma and Mathew’s valentines date, you should bring Goodnight and come.”

“Is Red coming too?”

“Yeah but he’s going as his own date. Says two pizzas and he might not get hungry again after half an hour.”

“All right, if they have their date in the student pizzeria hey deserve to have it crashed.”

Goodnight was hanging out of the window and smoking when Billy reached their room, Billy tossed his jacket at him and waved the leaflet.“Come on, we’re getting pizza and crashing Emma and Mathew’s valentines date.”

“We are?” Goody asked, picking up his coat.

“Absolutely, I have a two for one pizza offer and nobody I’d rather spend it on. I’ll even pay for your soda.”

“Oh, Billy,” Goodnight rolled his eyes. “You sure do know how to treat a fella.”

“World’s okayest roommate. You can stick it on a mug for my birthday.”

Goodnight’s hand landed on the back of his neck, warm and broad as he leaned over and gently bumped their foreheads together, their noses nearly brushing. Warmth zipped up and down Billy’s whole body. It was like being back at first week when Billy had jumped at the slightest touch, his heart doing an eager little somersault in his chest, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

“You, mon ami, are so much more than “okay”,” Goodnight said warmly and released Billy to get his shoes on and Billy stuck behind him all the way down to the street to give himself time to stop blushing and get all of his limbs back under control. 

Mathew and Emma had indeed been dumb enough to have their romantic valentines date at the student pizza place and although Emma’s face promised murder it was a fun evening. Vasquez and Faraday kept trying to trump each other with bad dating stories, Vasquez winning with the story about how he had managed to commit pre-school polygamy with all the girls in his creche and then got into terrible trouble when they all found out and he and his best friend (the Cyrano to his Casanova) had been forced to hide from the tiny mob of pissed-off five-year olds under the pillows in the nap room until his dad came to collect him.

 It made Billy laugh so much he got the hiccoughs and nearly fell off the bench and Vasquez was forced to reach out and pull him up by the scruff of his neck, putting an arm around him to make sure he wasn’t falling off again, and Billy looked up from laughing so hard he was literally snorting orange juice through his nose and saw Goodnight looking at him with a brittle smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he remembered he was supposed to be in love with Vasquez and perhaps not laugh so hard at his romantic failings.

“I’ll see you Thursday,” he called out to Vasquez when the groups separated, on Thursdays they both had a midday gap in lectures that they usually used for going to the gym.“It’s a date, short stack,” Vas responded cheerfully and blew him a kiss before putting an arm around Josh to support him around an icy patch on the road.“A date uh?” Goodnight said, smiling as they walked home and Billy looked at his feet and shrugged, his ears heating up. He was really going to have to find a way to get himself out of this one.

[buckyhoneyno]

A Dumbasses Guide To Saving The World (Chapter 6)

Just two girls with stupid dumb luck

Read along as two girls are thrown into the supernatural world when they are mistaken for hunters and decided that they fake it till they make it.

Updating every Saturday because Saturdays are for the boys

Updating early because I just got to 1K followers and I love you all!!

Sam x reader

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masterlist

Chapter 6 \\ You’ve Got Mail \\

Finally, after a week of checking their PO box every afternoon, a beat-up box wrapped messily wrapped in duct tape arrived. Maddie grabbed it excitedly and speed home to show Charlotte once she got off work. Normally the girls had their boss keep them on identical schedules but every once and while they got put on different shifts. Today being one of those days where Maddie had the morning shift and Charlotte with the afternoon. There wasn’t much need for a bartender at 8 in the morning.

Maddie didn’t spare a glance over her shoulder when walking to their apartment, her excitement to read the journals distracted her. If she had she would have noticed the man walking towards her.

“I love seeing you smile like that,” The girl to her credit didn’t jump when she heard the voice. Turning slowly, she saw Daren walking towards her. His hands were in his pockets as he tried to seem innocent. The smile that was on her face before melted off into a glare. Her arm still had a hand shaped bruise on it from their encounter last week, though it was now a faded yellow.

“Awe don’t tell me your still mad about what happened at Smokey’s,” He said with what she was sure he thought was a cute smile. “I apologized for that, even said sorry to Charlotte for calling her a bitch.” The way he said the last part made it seem like he definitely still thought Charlotte was a bitch. 

“Surprisingly enough yes, I’m still mad,” She stated coldly before turning away, thoroughly done with talking to the man. She had never given him an inkling of hope that she wanted to even be friends with the man, she was only nice in the beginning because they were neighbors but apparently her kindness was coming back to bite her in the ass.

“Hey, come on,” Daren leaned forward as if he was going to reach a hand towards her. Snapping around her steely gaze stopped him.

“Don’t touch me.” She practically hissed out. “What do you not get about no meaning no,” with that out she stomped away quickly and walked into the apartment. Twisting the lock quickly she leaned against the door.

“fuckin creep,” she mumbled to herself before remembering what she had in her large bag.

Walking to the kitchen she took out the package and debated whether to wait for Charlotte to get home or open it now. Her impulse won out though as she ripped into the cardboard. Flipping open the sides she reached in and pulled out 3 worn journals and a piece of paper that had messy scrawl on it. Putting the journals down she picked up the paper, squinting at the messy writing.

Girls,

These three journals are everything you need to know about the basics. Read them, memorize them and live by them. You got my number if you come across something that’s not in the books. Don’t die out there.

-      Bobby

P.S.

Id suggest investing in a couple of guns before your next big hunt maybe a bag of salt too.

If she thought about it long enough she might say that Bobby actually liked the girls.

Putting down the letter she walked to her room to take out her contacts, she had an easier time reading with her glasses. Grabbing her laptop and blanket on her way out and snagging one of the journals on the way to the couch, she settled in for a long night of reading. 

It was closer to 6 when Charlotte pulled in hours later. She was tired and covered in beer after teaching one of the new girls to tap a keg. She didn’t take directions well and ended up soaking them both before Charlotte could stop the beer from spewing out. Walking inside she threw her keys in the bowl by the door, heading straight for her room without giving the other girl in the living room much attention. She had a one-track mind at the moment and was intent on showering before she had to talk to another human being. 

Maddie barely glanced up when the other girl came in, after seeing her stormy expression she chose to wait till she resurfaced from her room to tell her the good news. The sound of the shower meets her ears as she went back to reading. Her laptop was in her lap while the book sat open next to her. She made detailed notes on her computer so that if Bobby ever asked for the journals back they wouldn’t have to worry.

Another hour passed before Charlotte came into the living room. Her eyes zeroed in on the box on the table. Stopping in her tracks she turned back to Maddie who was sitting on the couch, her glasses sat perched on her nose as she stared at a book closely.

“Are those what I think they are,” She questioned excitedly.

“Yep,” Maddie said with a large smile. “And they’re awesome,”

Charlotte let out a little squeal as she grabbed one off the table. Opening it she flipped through the pages for a moment excitedly.

“How much have you read so far?” She asked after a few more pages were turned.

“So far I’ve gotten half way through the first one. I would be done by now but I’m taking notes on them so that if Bobby ever asks for them back we can have backups,” Maddie said proud of her self.

“Nice,” Charlotte said impressed. Turning to the coffee machine she started a pot, knowing she would not be going to bed early like she had planned on her drive home.   

The next few hours were spent reading and randomly getting the others attention when they read something interesting which happened to be every five minutes for them. Finally, around 1 in the morning the girls called it quits when Charlotte happened to fall asleep on her laptop almost deleting all her work.

The next two days followed the same routine till they had each read all three books cover to cover. Day three the girls finally decided it was time to get kitted out with gear. So that next time they decided to be hunters they wouldn’t be so low on resources.

Coming back from the shopping they now had an outrageously large bag of salt, a slightly less outrageous bag of rock salt, a two pack of machetes that were on sale at home depot and a set of pretty silver throwing knives that Charlotte had decided to splurge on even though she knew it was an unnecessary purchase. If they needed more stuff then they would buy it along the way. They didn’t have to worry about extra lighters or candles being that they had a surplus of both already. Hopefully they could survive with their basic kit.

There last stop had been at a gun shop where they filed paper work to have a concealed hand gun license. They weren’t sure if Hunters followed the law but they sure as hell wouldn’t be caught with out them. It was worryingly easy to get though and they were able to purchase the guns and ammo on the spot.

Maddie’s gun had a sleek black barrel with a dark wooden handle to give it a nice accent. It looked like old and new styles were melded together to make it.

Charlottes was a bit more out there though. It was a silver with gold accents. The handle was shelled by mother of pearl styles designs that swirled prettily. It was classy while still not being to in your face. 

“I can’t say I ever thought I would be a gun owner,” Charlotte stated as she placed it in her purse with the safety on. “Oh, if my mother could see me now,” she joked with a grin. Her family were as liberal as they came. Her mother who lived back home with the rest of her family was always adamant on the need for stricter gun control. The mind set was practically drilled into the blonde her whole life. 

“Your mom, ha. My dad would probably throw a party,” On the other end of the spectrum was Maddie’s family who enjoyed their hunting and right to bear arms. Though that little fact never stopped the two family’s from getting along. It was just something they didn’t completely agree on.

“I still don’t think I will use this though,” She said with a shrug before excitedly unrolling the soft material that held her knives. “Now these I can get down with,” her smile was creepily large as Maddie gave her a look.

“Careful Char, your crazies showing,”

“Oh, fuck off,” her words held no heat as she flipped the knives around in each hand.

“One day you’ll cut your finger off with one of those,” her reply was a middle finger in the air before she turned back to her new toys.

“I think we should go to the shooting range soon, get some practice in. Maybe get you to actually learn how to take care of a gun,”

“Ill go to the range with you if you come to a boxing lesson with me,” the blond bargained with a raised brow. They stared each other down before Maddie sighed.

“Deal,”

“Ooh we also need to make a first aid kit to put in the car, you know in case we get hurt,” Charlotte said as she started putting her knives away.

“Already a step ahead of you there,” Maddie said while going to retrieve the box she had been working on. Placing it on the table in front of the other girl with a proud look on her face.

Charlotte gave it a once over and nodded. “I like that you added pretty band aids and not those generic tan ones,”

“I think I’ll just leave it in my car, since I drive us everywhere anyways,” She stated earning her a thumbs up before Charlotte grabbed Jackie’s leash off the counter.

“I’m going to take Jax’s for a walk,”

“Have fun,” Maddie called as she settled into the couch to watch some TV, content to spend the rest of their day off vegging out on the couch. She didn’t realize then but this was one of the last days she would have for a while where she didn’t have anything to worry about.

Down the street Charlotte smiled at a passing couple, for once not checking over her shoulder every 5 feet. A luxury she would soon miss after the coming weeks.

Two wanna be hunters were about to be put to the test as something evil creeped into town, right under their noses.

to be continued

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[ibraddersday-blog]

20 years so far.

Hi, my name is Bradley Day. Never received a middle name, guess my parents were too lazy. It is currently 12:53pm as I write this on Friday 16th August of 2019, and to be honest I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm about to explain what I have experienced over the past 20 years frankly because, I know 2 people my age who are like me, the rest are so uptight about who they think they are on their online personas and social media reputations. so I want to find more like me.

in this post im giving you real, the embarrassing, humiliating, funny but stupid truth about my life. seems like thats the only thing that you can't really find anymore... honesty. 

I was born in basildon hospital in Essex on the 10th of November 1998, my mother is Heidi Day, my father being James Day (actual name is Jimmy but we stick to James) I have a older sister called Rebecca Day. apparently I was born with a skin condition were I didn't get enough vitamins which means I was born yellow, a little English asian baby as you will. had to be sat next to a window to get natural vitamins from the sun. but that was all cleared up as a baby and I dont remember it so not important. 

as far as I remember we were a happy family, I was a little shit for my parents but hey I didn't ask to be born. I've never said this but im very thankful for my parents, as a family we went through a few hardships and money never came easy, and no matter what my mum and dad always went out to work and make an honest living to keep a roof over my head and food on the table, people say thats a luxury and may berate us saying thats not hard, but the hard truth is, if you had to worry about where your next meal came from as a kid, your parents didn't work hard enough, and ill be dammed if I let my kids starve a day just because I go lazy for a day.

but out of this happy hardworking family it all changed when I was 4-5, my mum and dad divorced, my dad left and it was me, mum and becky in one house, my dad always tried his best to make it work for him and us. we got by it was just a couple who fell out of love, it's always bummed me out but thats life, move on. 

Thats when I met Lindsey who is now a second mother to me, I made her life hell for a lot of years and so did my sister, Linds if you ever read this im sorry, im sorry for never being the kid you wanted because you couldn't have children and wanted to take on me and becky so you could feel loved as a mother, im sorry I tested your patience every chance I got, im sorry you felt you had to buy me a brand to xbox when the disk tray on mine broke (but thank you cose it was an awesome thing to do) but for most of all, im sorry for never having the guts to admit to you in person how much you really mean to me or impacted my life, you gave me chance after chance at your work and im sorry for letting you down. now for what im thankful for. thank you for kicking me up the ass to do my homework, thank you for putting plasters all over me when I've hurt myself doing something else stupid, thank you for coming with me to the hospital when I got run over just down the road and following matt down countless alleys, thank you for letting my friends come over whenever they wanted as a place to hang out and chill and chat, thank you for not telling mum that there was a grinder in my room when I went back to living at mums, but for most of all, thank you being full of advice, thank you for the honesty you poses wether it hurt or not you were always honest with me, I hope one day I can repay you for all the things you have done for me over the 15\16 years of knowing you, I love you very much. 

school... ugh, primary okay, secondary Jesus Christ what a shit show, now im not stupid but im not smart, education is not my path Im a natural worker and always have been, don’t do suits and smiles I do hi viz clothing and “oh fuck you slag’ spent the better part of it arguing with teachers and trying to be someone im not just to fit in. I had my fair share of bullying but you take it like a man and thats it but back then I thought my world had been crushed, ridiculous I know, kids if you’re being bullied now it may not seem it but it really dont fucking matter, its school thats how it is if you dont like learn from home. now I got pretty bad at one point and made a video and put it online, about how im being bullied and how pissed and upset it Made me and so on, well the school found out and I was forced to remove it, should of just told them too fuck off but it was just hassle that I couldn't be arsed with. year 11 soon flies around and boom left with nothing... great, now college level 1 sport how fucking normal right. well sussed level 1 dropped level 2. 

now work. for the next 2 years I dosed about and went through 8 jobs... yes thats right fucking eight until one came by and that is TGIS at lakeside retail park, now it was a shit job but it taught me a lot, it taught me team work, pace, the importance of showing up for shifts, how vital I am as a cog in that machine,   it taught me how punctuality means everything, I mean I got employee of the month in my first month working there for god sake I pushed hard and getting a reward like that it really hit home, as I never really got anything like that before, I got home and cried in bed as I was so happy for that for once in my life someones recognised me for me and how hard I work, it still gets to me writing this, it means a lot to someone like me. I've since left there for a better job and found one at a container shipping company driving cranes, and I gotta say I think this Is the place I’ll make a career out of, its great pay, get great hours and there are some great guys there who I've grown to become friends with. after countless let downs in my life I’m happy to say I've found somewhere I belong and love. the people I wanna say thank you for are Lex A and Jack R, I love you boys you really pulled me through at TGIS, even though we argued a lot I still value you two a lot. 

now for my life outside of work. I have a few friends being Michael, jack, James and josh. these are the people who are like me, hard working and are making a name for themselves with the help of no-one else. we have all faced great hardships in life and really push to get what we want. but with my friends that want is wanting to get a shitty old RWD and drift it into walls for a laugh, it is pretty funny to be honest. honestly I can say these boys are like family to me they mean more to me than they know and id be there for them in a second if they need me. jack is my longest friend though, we've been friends for 15 years, we met in year 1 in primary school and never stopped since, I would go Into details but its now 1:30am and im tired. 

relationships... I can't do them. dont get me wrong I love the idea of them and would love to be in one but I simply can't do it, I can't deal with other peoples shit as well as my own as I've always dealt with mine on my own not needing someone else, and girls are weird about that shit, all emotional and shit, grow up and move on life is tough if you dont like it theres many ways out, I dont do sorrow or sympathy. but marriage scares me, it freaks me out im not even kidding, the idea of being forced by law to be in a relationship with someone and if the love dies they can take all your shit fucking scares me! who wouldn't be frightened by that! maybe one day ill get over it and take a leap of faith with someone I love but why knows ay. 

and for now right this very second. im happy with who I am, I have nice car, a good job, im single but happily, its easier and less stressful, the key to happiness is a stress free life after all. yeah I may be bit tubby and not in great shape, but im happy with myself and who I see in the mirror, because I know im going to be okay, ill work through my problems that happen in my life, and in the end ill know ill always be okay. 

to whoever is reading this. just know life is easy, the key to happiness is being okay with who you are. yeah theres always improvements that could be made, but if you got a roof over your head, working water and food on the table, you’re doing pretty good in life. just picture life as an English country lane, for the most part its gonna be rocky and bumpy with loads of big potholes but theres always the parts where the road is smooth and freshly done, just gotta keep hanging on to those moments before your turning is up on to the straight and narrow bud, keep pushing and working hard boys and girls, like I was always told “stop being a pussy and get what you want” 

probably be my only ever post here so yeah, maybe someone will read it, who knows!

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

unlonely [michael m. x reader] pt.2

like what i do? consider buying me a coffee!

accidentally spends the last three hours writing this. whoops.

the good part of having fics planned out is that u dont have to sit around for nearly as long like “uGHHHH WHAT DO I WRITE” story-wise. writing wise? still hell. 

also dont expect this please sdfhkjdsfh i only managed this because its a saturday and i dont have anything else to do rn because homework??? ill do that later

warnings: sad michael. more than once. a hospital is here. cool. reader is a bitter fuck. if i need to warn for anything else pls tell me.

            Michael had the habit of talking himself through things. With you there, he excused it off as him explaining it to you. The first time you caught this little habit was during the first dissection the two of you did together, listening to him give himself a pep talk through the first few minutes before shutting up at the slightly worried glance you shot his way. During video games, you caught him muttering his plan to himself. And now? Now you had Michael Mell in your backseat, talking over the directions your phone gave you, filling you in on the same plan you’d heard for the past week. Every now and then, you’d shush him long enough to hear where you were supposed to turn, and then he’d start back up, saying how he was going to find Jeremy, go through his speech - something he spared you from, on the account of the fact it was pretty personal, which... you couldn’t lie, you weren’t complaining about that - and then maybe the three of you would go out somewhere if Jeremy saw the light and immediately shed that dickish persona he’d taken on (Michael’s dream situation) or if Jeremy realized he was a dick and figured maybe he should apologize to Michael not in the middle of a party (your dream situation). A weight stayed in your stomach the entire time you were driving to Jake’s house - and then it lightened upon seeing shifting behind you.

            Slowing to a stop at a red light, you finally took the chance to steal a glance at Michael in the backseat. And you couldn’t help but fucking stare at him, before the light flickered green and you tore your gaze away. He kept babbling, not noticing the look you’d given him. Maybe the two of you would watch horror movies when you got back to your place - that’d be dope, wouldn’t it?

            “Michael?” You finally said, breaking him out of his endless rambling.

            “Yes?”

            “What the actual fuck are you wearing?”

            “What?” He asked, “look, I needed a disguise! I don’t get invited to parties,” he said, “no one will ever know it’s me!”

            “Michael, you could have literally put a hood up or put on a mask and done the same thing-”

            “That’s too simple!” And then, he paused. “Eyes on the road, [y/n],” he said, and you could hear his fucking smirk.

            “They are, Mell.”

            “Yeah, right.”

            For a split second, you debated slamming on brakes. The thought tempted you for another moment, and then you finally decided against it - you couldn’t risk breaking his nose or something. Besides - fate had other plans, as you finally turned into Jake’s neighborhood. If your phone hadn’t informed you that your destination was on the right, the cars lining the street definitely would have. A few houses ahead, you could see plenty of cars pulled onto the front lawn of a pretty damn nice looking house - and you sort of stare, wondering how this many people would show up to one high school party. You glanced back to Michael, the car moving at a snail’s pace down the street. 

            “I’m gonna circle back around,” you announced. He gave you a quick nod.

            Ten minutes later, you’re sitting alone in your parked car and Michael’s left you with the promise that he’ll be back in maybe and hour or two. You reclined your seat, turned up the radio, and just sort of waited - not wanting to burn your phone battery anymore, because your dad had stolen your charger out of your car earlier that night - for the next few hours. You watched people filter in and out, like Brooke Lohst finally showing up in this handmade dog outfit that looked like an attempt for a sexy dog (and, honestly, you couldn’t say that it wasn’t - but that was more Brooke than the costume); or this little group of people running back out to their car and leaving, laughing the entire way, and you started hoping that they weren’t drunk; and then you saw Jeremy fucking Heere, pulling up in a slightly beat up car (and for a moment, you’re confused - you’d never seen him drive before, had you? You didn’t know if he could) but that washed away the moment he stepped out, dressed in this fucking dorky cyborg-looking costume that made you stifle back a laugh because of how damn cheesy it was, like he was some kid in a middle school play.

            An hour later, you saw Michael crossing the front lawn to your car. That god-awful costume is discarded somewhere, leaving him just in the shirt and shorts he’d been wearing when you picked him up, and you could see him shaking as he made his way over. He pulled the car door open, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting it all in one fluid motion. He didn’t speak to you. He just sat there, plucking at his shirt or clicking his phone on and off to glance at the time - half past ten, you noted - or running a hand through his hair, already a mess from the thousands of times he’d done it before.

            You didn’t ask what happened. All you did was pull the car into reverse, and slowly eased your way out of your spot, making a quick U-turn to leave Jake’s house in your rear-view mirror.

            But after a few minutes of silent driving, you finally speak up. “My family should still be out. We can go to my room and watch movies, or listen to music or something.” You paused for a moment. “Oh, fuck, Michael - you haven’t even tried my kick-ass hot cocoa. I put mini marshmallows and whipped cream and whatever you like, I guess.” You paused once more, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. “If you want peppermint, I think I have some candy canes stashed away somewhere that I can crush up. Or we have cinnamon stll - oh shit, Michael, we have the stuff to make cinnamon rolls. That’d be fucking dope.” You stopped, keeping your eyes pinned to the road as you pull your right hand away, extending it to Michael. “We’re gonna be okay, Michael.”

            And after a moment, Michael’s hand was in yours, squeezing it tightly without a word. And when you steal another glance, that look in his eyes is back: like he’s a thousand worlds away from you. He was so distant, like maybe he fell through this reality into another - and maybe, in a way, he did. Maybe Jeremy and that supercomputer-thing and everything was a world away from you, something foreign to you - but that wasn’t going to stop you. Michael might have been up in the clouds, but you were going to try your fucking hardest to ground him again. You weren’t going to tell Michael that you hated Jeremy Heere. He didn’t need to hear that - Michael needed some sort of security, and you were going to try and give him that as best as you could then.

            Michael had never been to your house before. The lights in the front yard reflected in of his glasses as he followed you up to the house, the chirp of your car locking behind the two of you as you fumbled with your house key. You kicked off your shoes as you stepped inside, giving Michael the most general tour you could - the living room off to the right, the small dining room to the left, and the kitchen behind that - before guiding him into the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen island, watching you gather your ingredients, throwing quick glances back to him every once in a while. You reached over the stovetop, turning the oven on before pulling out one of those Pillsbury cinnamon roll tubes, shooting him a quick smile.

            “Dad likes to make them from scratch. Mom and I don’t have the patience for that sometimes,” you said, before returning to the hot chocolate.

            Milk, brown sugar, cinnamon, a block of chocolate - which Michael watched you chop the entire time, wondering how you had the patience to deal with that shit, because he probably would have given up halfway through - and he watched you fish through cabinets, pulling out three different bottled: vanilla, ground cinnamon, and... ground cayenne pepper? He walked over to your side, leaning against the counter wordlessly as he watched you work, taking a bowl to mix all your dry ingredients together.

            “You wanna help?” You asked, looking up at him.

            “What’s the cayenne pepper for?”

            You only shot him a quick smile. “Baking spray should be in that cabinet,” you motioned with your elbow, “and the pans are in that big bottom drawer.” You extended the cinnamon rolls to him, “you can break these open, if you want.”

            You ignored the rough hit he took to his palm once the tear-away shit didn’t work, the pop! of the tube greeting him a second later. 

            “Do you do this often?” Michael asked, the hiss of him greasing the pan greeting you a minute later.

            “... Hot cocoa?” You asked, before shrugging. “When it’s cold enough, yeah.”

            “No. I mean... this.” He said, “the whole, uh... cheering up thing.”

            You paused, turning your attention to the milk on the stove. “I...” You started, before pressing your lips together. “No.” You poured in cups of milk, mixing brown sugar in before you put it over the heat, keeping a close eye on it so that it doesn’t burn. “I don’t.” You pressed your lips together.

            “You’re really good at it,” he said softly. Stealing a glance, you found his attention on placing each cinnamon roll, and you were glad for that. He didn’t need to look at you - not when you were starting to drop the facade you’d kept up of happy, nerdy you who just wanted to talk to him about music and video games and maybe see him smile again. 

            He didn’t need to see just how lonely you were.

            Thirty minutes later, the two of you are in your living room, watching old movies on Netflix and sharing a blanket. Michael liked to make snarky comments during movies, pointing out stupid effects or making fun of the stupider lines (which, you couldn’t lie, you’d mimic them too). Cinnamon rolls cooled on the coffee table, stacked high and iced graciously, and the hot cocoa had been drained the moment the two of you took sips - which made a warm, cozy feeling of satisfaction bubble through you when Michael practically glowed at the taste before admitting you’d been right to gloat earlier. Which one of you fell asleep first, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of was waking up the next morning, curled up next to Michael with your head on his shoulder, his arm curled around you securely. The TV screen had been shut off, the cinnamon rolls on the table a few less (and you imagined that it had been your parents coming in, not wanting to disturb you and Michael since you’d been sleeping), and Michael’s soft breathing ended up soothing you back to sleep. He’d taken his glasses off at some point. You fought back a small smile at that - he still looked nice without his glasses, which was unfair because not everyone could look nice with and without glasses. You nestled back into his shoulder, growing slightly closer to him as you shut your eyes. His arm pulled you slightly closer, and you could feel his face against the side of your head.

            It was nice. Michael was always warm, and it was comfortable since you knew that, without Michael and the blanket, you’d be freezing your ass off on the couch. Even with the way your neck and back were positioned, you were comfortable with Michael - and even though you knew that your body would be aching tomorrow, hating you for not moving, you were okay with that. That moment had been worth it.

            “Jeremy.” He looked up, the little voice in the back of his head, bringing him back down to earth once more. Jeremy couldn’t really lie - he was glad to finally have a distraction. It was cold outside, and there he was, leaning against Brooke’s car with his fingers intertwined with hers while she was deep in conversation with this guy from the swim team and his girlfriend - some art student, Jeremy noticed, as she had graphite and paint smudges on her hands - about... something. He ended up tuning them out, having lost interest in the conversation - and besides, he didn’t need to pay attention. He had the SQUIP there to fill in the gaps when he needed to speak.

            The SQUIP spoke once more. “Look at the building.” He obeyed, and in a flicker, a familiar shade of red met his eyes. Michael. One hand at his backpack strap, the other holding his phone as he stood outside. A minute later, another person walked out, greeting him before Jeremy watched Michael push his headphones down and around his neck, immediately starting up conversation with this stranger. And then he watched the two of you laugh together, chatting happily as watched both of you made your way to Michael’s car. 

            Then Jeremy recognized you. He’d seen you in his math class, quiet and always keeping to yourself - and now you were with Michael, laughing about some story Michael must had been dying to tell you, judging by how animated he grew. The two of you fit well together, laughing at the same stupid things, you playfully shoving Michael at one point before the two of you approached his car, parked close enough that Jeremy wouldn’t have had to turn around to watch the two of you get into Michael’s car and leave. The fact that the two of you got along was a sweet sight, but... he couldn’t fight the pit in the bottom of his stomach of anger, of sadness- because that was Michael. His former best friend.

            “It looks like Michael’s moved on fast,” His SQUIP said, as Jeremy watched Michael’s car disappear out of the parking lot.

            “Jeremy!” Brooke’s voice snapped him back to reality, “are you okay?” She said, worming her hand out of his, stretching and popping her fingers. “You were hurting my hand.”

            He didn’t realize how tightly he’d been squeezing her hand. But he nodded, making up some bullshit excuse that he’d just been thinking before shrugging it off as unimportant. Just as he always did nowadays.

            Fridays were always your least favorite school days - purely because it was an countdown to the freedom of the weekend for you. Mondays also sucked - but Fridays? You’d fucking kill for a school day to be over already. But you were glad to confirm your plans with Michael tomorrow to just sit around and binge Queer Eye on Netflix at your house - because at least that gave you something to look forward to on Saturday - and make your way home, so that you can lie down and die a bit internally in peace. The heavy thump of your backpack made you frown, as you threw yourself onto your bed, falling face-first into your comforter and letting out a soft groan of oh thank god when you heard your bedroom door open, and the familiar chuckle of your father sound out.

            “Tough day?” He asked, and you let out a grunt of confirmation, not bothering to move. He chuckled again. “I made some cinnamon rolls earlier.” You snapped up, looking to him. "Save some for Michael, [y/n].”

            You beamed, rolling over and sitting up. That’s when you noticed he’d dressed up nicely, redoing his tie for what what probably the tenth time. “Where are you going?” 

            “The Murphys invited us out for dinner tonight,” he said, “thought I’d take them up on the offer. I’ll let them know you wanted to be there,” he shot you a quick smile. “Thought you could use the rest, kiddo.” He paused, lowering his voice. “But if they offer, I’ll bring you back something.”

            Sometimes you were glad that your family had rich friends. That was definitely one of those moments. He made some other comment, talking about how they’ll probably get back late so don’t worry or wait up for them or anything. The door shut behind him as he left, and you fell back onto your bed, debating whether you should go get a cinnamon roll or to take a fucking baller nap that you deserved because high school sucks. 

            And then you woke up a few hours later, the sound of a car horn blaring outside. You grabbed your phone, expecting maybe your dad had texted and called you and upon not getting any response, figured that maybe that would have woken you up - but you were greeted with nothing. So you made your way to the front door, pulling the door open with the expectation of yelling at some asshole that other people live in this neighborhood, only to be greeted with the sight of a familiar P.T. Cruiser in your driveway. No wonder it sounded so loud.

            “Michael, what the FUCK-” You yelled out, only for him to sort of lean out his window.

            “I’ll explain on the way!” He called out. You scowled slightly and hoped that this was something important enough to literally disturb the entire fucking neighborhood, and snagged your keys, sliding into your shoes before leaving your house and hopping into the passenger side, narrowly avoiding smashing into Michael’s bag in the floorboard.

            He barely had pulled out of your driveway before he started talking. Jeremy’s dad had ended up at his house, talking to him about how Jeremy had basically disrespected him and he realized just how absent he’d been as a father - causing him to seek Michael’s help, because Jeremy would listen to Michael if he tried harder to talk to him. So he launched into this whole talk, about how if maybe he tried to be a better friend to Jeremy, he could get through to him - and the whole thing stung. Jeremy abandoned him, not the other way around, and there Michael was, talking about how he needed to try harder and reach out to him again. Mountain Dew Red was supposed to deactivate the SQUIP, according to some dude that Michael played Overwatch with, and he had managed to get his hands on a case of the stuff a few weeks back, and he luckily had a bottle left in his bag - so maybe if he talked to Jeremy before the play, he could help him-

            You finally spoke up, having watched Michael run out of breath while speaking a thousand miles an hour. “Woah, shit, Mikey, slow down.” He barely had a chance to glance over to you, before you spoke again: “eyes on the road, Michael.” He looked away, giving a single nod. “So. Why am I here?”

            He didn’t answer immediately, flicking his turn signal on long enough to change lanes. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

            “I don’t have any money on me, dude-”

            “I’ll pay for you!” He said, cutting you off, "or you can stay in the car if you want, I just - I need you there.” He breathed, before finally tacking on a soft, “just in case.”

            Upon reaching the school, the two of you were lucky enough to snag the two seats closest to the backstage door. Michael talked to you idly, his leg bouncing restlessly as he kept debating going then or waiting until the lights went down for the show. Eventually, you watched him reach down to the floor beneath his seat, grabbing his bag and sliding forward enough to throw it over one of his shoulders. When you reached for his hand to stop him, he reassured you it was just so that he could get back there faster when he needed to. Maybe it’d be better if he waited until after the show to see Jeremy - give him a chance to maybe not fuck up the show and have Christine Canigula angry at him.

            So he relaxed, the lights going down as the two of you watched Christine come to the edge of the stage, giving some announcements about how it’d been a hard few weeks for Middleborough and how important theatre is to bring everyone together for basically what’s supposed to be a good time. As if on cue, you and Michael glanced at each other the moment she made a comment about what Rich would say - cracking a small smile at each other before listening to her final comment about the costumes from Hobby Lobby. The show started, the lights on stage letting up as you watched a couple students fumble through their lines a bit, before... changing. Newfound passion flooded into them, the show rivaling Broadway plays - and you leaned back, looking to Michael, who’s grip turned vice-like on his bag’s strap.

            “This... is way too good for a school play,” he whispered to you, before realization hit. “Oh god. Oh fuck,” he started, “I need to get in there.”

“Wait, Michael-” You placed your hand over his, “hold on - I don’t know if that’s a good idea since-”

            “I’ll be fine, [y/n].” He shot you a quick smile, “I’ll be back. Just... stay here.” 

            “Michael, they just started the show,” you whispered, ignoring a shush from behind you. “If you go now-”

            “I’ll be fine!” He said, voice raising slightly. He stared at you, and then - all in a quick moment - he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours for a split second before dashing away, leaving you dumbfounded by the sudden move.

            “... What the fuck?” You mumbled, sinking back into your seat before turning your attention back to the play as best as you could, ignoring the burning in your cheeks. Eventually, the scene ended, the lights doing down long enough for actors to slip off stage. You watched the lights come back up, Brooke coming on stage and completely blowing everyone else away with nothing but raw energy. And then you watched as the stage slowly fell empty.

            That was when you moved, slipping to the backstage door, barely getting a hand on it before a screech rung out. You threw the door open, letting it slam behind you as you head up the steps to hear several thumps hit the floor, and then you saw Michael, letting out a scream as he stepped back, staring at all the bodies unconscious before him. Something inside of you jumped to action, as you found your phone and immediately called 911. Holding the phone between your face and shoulder, you found Michael standing there in shocked silence, and guided him over to somewhere to sit - him practically falling into the chair you found. 

            Later, you stood beside Michael, a orange shock blanket draped over his shoulders as the two of you watched a teacher and your classmates get wheeled out on stretchers, a paramedic standing with the two of you. Her questions felt lost on Michael, because while you tried to help him answer, you didn’t exactly know what was going on. She knelt down beside him, trying to comfort him, slowly dropping her questions before finally the police arrived. You were permitted to leave before Michael was, because while you didn’t know much, you still sort of counted as a witness. Leaving Michael alone in there was tough, because you could see how shaken he’d been, but you found yourself sitting on the curb next to his car. Your mind fluttered back to that kiss, as quick and impulsive as it was, and you started to wonder whether you should bring it up to Michael - in the end deciding that yes, you should, but not that day. Too much had happened to just casually approach Michael and ask about what the fuck that kiss was about.

            Eventually, footsteps approached you, and you were greeted with the sight of a slightly more calm Michael. His hands still shook slightly, and he fumbled with his jacket and his bag and everything he could get his hands on, but he wasn’t as he had been inside, no longer on the verge of tears or a panic attack. You stood to greet him, about to speak when he stopped in front of you.

            “I’m gonna go to the hospital,” he said, voice quiet. “Y’know, uh... wait with Mr.Heere, I guess. I’ll drop you off-”

            You didn’t hesitate. “If you think I’m not staying with you, you’re an idiot, Mell.”

            He cracked a small smile at that, insisting he was okay to drive as you reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat. Taking the chance to call your mom, you explained everything you could: that you were going to stay with Michael at the hospital after something happened at the play and he was worried about his friends, saying that he needed someone else there for support and you wanted to be that someone. For a moment, you thought she was going to say you had to come home - but then she agreed, understanding as always, and asked if you needed anything. You rattled off a list of general stuff - water, maybe a phone charger or two if they could bring them - before thanking her. She told you she wouldn’t be able to bring it immediately, since they’re at dinner - although saying she was willing to leave early if it was needed, and you coaxed that away. You didn’t need any of this stuff immediately. You only thanked her again.

            You’d never seen Jeremy’s dad before - and, well, you never had a reason to. But... he wasn’t like what you expected. He looked like he was slightly taller than Jeremy, but heavier and more tired. He had this thick, ginger beard, and a balding head, and you noticed how he had soft, gentle eyes. He greeted you and Michael with a small wave, a cup of shitty hospital coffee on the table next to him. Michael introduced the two of you, and part of you felt guilty for hating Jeremy all of a sudden. His dad treated you so kindly, as if you were also one of Jeremy’s friends. As if you were here because you were worried about fucking Jeremy Heere, and not because you wanted to make sure Michael was okay and had some extra support.

            An hour later, you received a text from your mother saying that she was waiting outside. So you told Michael where you were going, and you wandered your way out of the hospital, taking note of everywhere you went so that you could get back to where you were without wandering like a lost puppy without Michael. Your mom handed you your bag, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead, saying that she was always a phone call away if you wanted to go home or talk or needed anything else. Your heart swelled in your chest, and you fought back tears as you hugged her and told her you loved her, before you left her and your dad to return to Michael.

            Exhaustion hit you on the way back, and you plugged in two chargers for you and Michael’s phones. Eventually Michael fell asleep, head on your shoulder, and it’s just you and Mr.Heere and a few other people in the waiting room, questions filling your heads. You watched Jeremy’s dad stand, offering to get you coffee if you wanted, and you politely refused. Your head fell against Michael’s, as uncomfortable as it was for your neck, and eventually, against all the discomfort of that day, you fell asleep.