#and that clutch of joshua's hand in the last gif

[aethersflood]

I have your taste on my lips. I have returned home

- Ramón Buenaventura Sánchez, tr. by Gabriella Sweet, from "Love's Free Slave,"

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)

Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.

Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.

Word Count | 5.1K

Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.

SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible. 

“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.” 

A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried. 

Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you. 

“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair. 

“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head. 

“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.”  

Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous. 

It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready. 

He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them. 

“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill. 

“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.” 

“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer. 

“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?” 

Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him. 

“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?” 

“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer. 

“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.” 

“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks. 

“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.” 

“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.” 

Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly. 

“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.” 

“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.” 

You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son. 

Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 

“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.” 

He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.” 

The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist. 

“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.” 

“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.” 

You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”

“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.” 

“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?” 

You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans. 

You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.” 

He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?” 

You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips. 

“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on. 

“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly. 

You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.” 

He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you. 

Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up. 

“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.” 

It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you. 

You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?” 

“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.” 

“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply. 

“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?” 

“That what you want?” He grunts from above you. 

“Wanna taste you.” 

“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.” 

He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him. 

You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.

“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” 

It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to. 

You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier. 

You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer. 

“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink. 

“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.” 

You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm. 

“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh. 

“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.” 

Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career. 

“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.” 

You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.” 

He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.” 

“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.” 

“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.” 

It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep. 

“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?” 

He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end. 

The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed. 

He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you. 

With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes. 

“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.” 

He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him. 

“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.” 

“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?” 

His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.” 

He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements. 

“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.” 

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you. 

“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.” 

He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.

You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head. 

“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.” 

“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers. 

He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?” 

His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses. 

“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.” 

You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist. 

“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?” 

You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die. 

“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.” 

“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you. 

“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.” 

He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire. 

He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only. 

One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.” 

You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 

“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.” 

“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?” 

“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.” 

His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant. 

He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom. 

When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together. 

“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.” 

You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.” 

You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.” 

His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.” 

You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day. 

Taglist: @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @kaitangatatacos @paleidiot

[boosoonhao]

even death (could not keep us apart)

minghao x reader 10k words supernatural au swearing and mentions of death

Fire. Salt. Pain. A loud bang that seems to shatter your eardrums and reverberate through your whole body. Then nothing. For the longest time there’s absolutely nothing; just a mind-bending, insanity-inducing blank darkness. But then - 

the distinct smell of sulfur, the taste of dirt and sand between your teeth and on your tongue. Voices, low and foreign and nothing but background noise for the ringing in your ears. A face, blurred lines making up eyes and a nose and a mouth you’re so sure you knew once but cannot even place anymore. 

An emotion, the first one you’re able to feel, to understand, familiar and eerily recognizable; fear. 

A voice, louder than the rest, tones and syllables slurred and shaky, almost unintelligible: 

“You’re alive. Holy fucking shit, you’re alive.”

~~

Minghao is particular about quite a few things, including, but not limited to his car. He’s never allowed you to eat on the road, always insisted on stopping at diners or waiting until you reach a motel. Whenever a hunt has left either of your clothes got especially dirty, he’d insist on getting rid of them, though, he has to admit that the sight of you; sulking in the passenger seat in nothing but your underwear and one of his t-shirts was not one he really minded.

You’re covered, literally from head to toe, in dirt and grime, wet mud dripping onto the leather and pooling at your bare feet. The part of Minghao that’s meticulous, neat and that itches to chew you out for ruining his stuff tingles. But then he looks at you, at the person beyond the dirt and the mud, and he holds his tongue; 

you’re wearing the same outfit that he buried you in, a thought that makes bile threaten to rise in his throat. It’s so macabre, he thinks, so undiginified, but at least he’s glad he had the sense to bury you in something practical in favor of the frilly, stupid dresses Soonyoung had suggested. That’s not what bothers him.

What bothers Minghao is the look on your face; the hollowness of your cheeks and the dull, barely there glint in your eyes. The tiredness in your posture and how skinny your wrists are as you clutch onto your own fingers when he drives. You’ve barely even said a word since they resurrected you, and despite Joshua’s close examination and subsequent reassurances, Minghao worries. Joshua is good at what he does, but he’s no doctor. Your body might be fine, functional, but Minghao is - for maybe the third time since becoming a hunter - truly, really scared.

“I was dead,” you say, at last, voice flat and as dull as your eyes. Minghao has heard you feign nonchalance, has heard you school your usual bubbly and explosive voice into something low and careless in the middle of stupid arguments or when you’re so upset you curl in on yourself, but he has never heard your voice like this. He thinks, with more than tiny amount of reluctance, that you sound dead. “I died. Didn’t I?”

He only replies with a low, murmured “yeah”, because what else is there to say, really? You died, he watched you die, and now you’re back. It should be as easy as that, but he supposes nothing is ever truly easy with deals made with devils and demons.

“Minghao.”

He shivers, a wholly involuntary spasm that comes from the painful ache inside his chest; for a while he thought he’d never hear his own name from your lips ever again. And it might not be the same, not right now when you’re still coming back to life, still numb from being fucking dead for six months, but it makes him shiver nonetheless, and his hands grip tighter around the steering wheel. 

“Minghao,” you repeat when he remains unresponsive. “what did you do?”

~~

Out of all the demons Minghao has ever had the displeasure of conversing with, Hoseok might have been the one that intimidated him both the most and the least. Had it not been for the glowing, red eyes possessed by all crossroad demons, and the strange hollow echo in his voice, Minghao might’ve thought Hoseok to be just any old schmoe, but the sleek, black suit was unmistakable, and the buried box containing graveyard dirt, cat bones and a picture of Minghao himself did manage to set the mood, so to speak. 

“Missing the old ball and chain, are you?” Hoseok had asked, no prompt or explanation needed. This didn’t surprise Minghao; in your short lifespan you had managed to make quite the name for yourself in the underworld, but his muscles twitched and tingled even so, angered by the casual with which the demon spoke of you, how lightly your death was mentioned. Behind him, Seungkwan had cleared his throat, bringing him back and chaining him in. They all knew the severity of it; there would only be this one chance to make the deal. 

“Let’s just skip the chit-chat,” Jeonghan, ever the calm and collected part of the team, spoke up from right behind Minghao, placing a calloused hand on his shoulder. “You obviously know why we’re here.” 

“Ah,” Hoseok tutted, head tilted to the side. “But you’re not the one who wants to make a deal, are you? I want to hear him say it.” He pointed at Minghao, stiffly standing in front of the others with his gun in hand. More a precaution than anything else, the bullets would not kill the crossroad demon, but they would slow him down, at the very least.

“Can you do it?” Minghao asked, mistakenly letting a mixture of hope and doubt seep into his voice. “Can you bring her back?” 

The demon scoffed. “Can I? Of course I can. The question is, what can you do for me?”

He said it so low that Minghao could barely hear him over the loud thrums of his heart echoing in his head, nervousness and hope and reluctance fighting for dominance in his stomach. It had taken so long, finding the right crossroad and the right time, discussing back and forth between the team whether or not it was worth it. Minghao remembered, with startling clarity, the repeated promise you had forced him to make while still alive. Never trade your soul to a demon.

“I’m not giving you my soul,” Minghao said. 

Hoseok had busted out laughing at that, his voice coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once, echoing in Minghao’s ears and creeping under his skin. Are you,” the demon’s eyes glowed like two small, blood red suns, almost painful to look directly at. “Really at a disposition to be making demands, Minghao?” The way Hoseok had accentuated every syllable of his name sent shivers down Minghao’s spine, despite - or maybe because of - the childlike tint to his voice. 

Hoseok tsked, reappearing in the spot right in the middle of the dimly lit crossroads. “I don’t want or need your gross soul,” he waved his hand dismissively. “You humans are so dramatic.” 

“What do you want, then?” Seungkwan piped up, and Minghao could easily recognize the impatient, nervous quiver of his friend’s voice. They were all impatient, all tired and grieving and desperate, but Seungkwan never quite learned how to deal the way the others did. Minghao both appreciated and regretted that fact.

For a moment, the only thing to be heard were the sounds of the night; owls hooting and cicadas singing at a volume that would’ve unnerved Minghao had he not already been in the company of one of the most powerful demons in existence. 

“You know,” Hoseok broke the silence at last, octaves lower than before and the childish glee all but gone. He had sounded serious then, and the extent of his influence, of his power, had never been clearer. “People are quite pleased with your little girlfriend’s demise downstairs.” 

At this point, there wasn’t any doubt that Hoseok’s attention rested solely on Minghao, that the boys behind him was mere background noise to the demon. Somehow, Minghao felt strangely alone.

“A lot of pretty powerful people are gonna be mad when I do this,” the when of it brought a painful thump to Minghao’s chest, and he struggled to keep his expression neutral. “I gotta know I’ll be safe.” 

It sounded… fair. More reasonable than Minghao had expected of a demon that, though strictly speaking functioned as nothing more than a deal maker and a soul stealer, resembled a trickster. The group of boys behind him had shuffled. He knew what they were thinking, how they were probably eyeing each other. It sounded too good to be true. 

“I can see the wheels turning,” the demon sounded amused. Minghao had thought, at the time, that maybe he had heard the right of it when people spoke of Hoseok, the crossroad demon; a mysterious creature that valued entertainment and chaos over anything, even his own species.

“You’re asking us to kill demons for you?” 

Hoseok’s grin widened, tangerine locks bouncing against his pale skin as he nodded. “Nothing more, nothing less.” 

“And you’ll bring her back? She’ll be…” Because even if the demon could resurrect you, no one really knew at what cost; Minghao was scared to ask, head filled with images of deformity, of brain damage. “She’ll be normal?” 

“As normal as one can be after spending half a year in hell, I suppose,” the red-eyed man confirmed. Minghao heard Seungkwan’s breath catch behind him. “Do we have a deal or not? I’m getting bored of this.” 

It wasn’t Minghao who confirmed, he didn’t even have the time to open his mouth. Soonyoung stepped up, with an eagerness that would’ve pissed Minghao off had the situation allowed it; the dark haired man never did know how to stay in his fucking lane, always wedging himself in where he was unwanted. “We’re taking the deal. Of course we’re taking the deal. Right?” 

“Great,” Hoseok’s eyes lit up as he stepped closer, not stopping until he was a breath away from Minghao’s face. If Minghao wanted to, he could’ve counted the specks of ember in the demon’s eyes, the eyelashes above his eyes. “But you’re the one making the deal.”

The demon put his hands on Minghao’s face, digits firm and cold as death. 

“Let’s seal it with a kiss.”

~~

Minghao used to joke that he would pay you to shut up, a thornless barb that resembled his own brand of affection more than anything else. Two hours into checking into the dingy hotel and you still haven’t said a single word after finding out about his deal with the crossroad demon. He thinks you might be angry, but it’s hard to tell with the emotionless, blank expression on your face. 

You sit on the bed, still covered in dried mud, and you just stare. At what, Minghao doesn’t know, all he knows is that it hurts to look at you. Somehow, he had imagined everything would just return to normal when he got you back. That he’d hug you and kiss you and his heart would put itself back together. He realizes, belatedly, that he had grossly underestimated the trauma of being brought back from the dead. He can’t even imagine, can’t bring himself to ask what you see behind your lids when you close your eyes.

Hell, Hoseok had said. You sure do look like it.

Minghao feels awkward, like he’s learning how to be around you all over again, and he struggles with the balance of wanting to give you space and the literal, physical yearning to embrace you and never let go. You’re there, just a few feet away, alive and real and breathing, but you’ve never felt so far away.

“You’re angry,” he says at last, watches as your eyes glide over the room once, twice before they fall on him. You look confused for a moment, gaze unfocused and lip caught between your teeth, like you’re struggling to gather your thoughts.

“I’m pretty sure I told you never to make deals with demons,” you tell him, a hint of frustration coating your tone. It’s the closest you’ve sounded to yourself ever since coming back to life, and Minghao can’t help the tiny bubbles of hope that push at the back of his neck despite the steely glint in your eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you said never to sell my soul to a demon,” he retorts, letting some of the petulant annoyance that always surfaces during your arguments seep into his voice. You always did love to argue, even death couldn’t take that away from you.

Your hands grip around the fabric of the blankets you’re sitting on, knuckles white and face tight. “I’m pretty sure it was implied.”

“What was I supposed to do, then?” Minghao is on his feet before he can even register getting up. Anger prickles at his skin, a course, painful lump in his throat. “Just let you stay dead?” You’re on your feet to, then, a bit wobbly and not really at peak intimidation, what with your hair and face coated in dirt you’ve not yet bothered to remove. Your voice is loud, shrill, and Minghao is glad he had the forethought to rent the room farthest away from the desk.

“Yes, Minghao! That’s what you were supposed to do!” The words hit him like a fist in the face. Minghao has been on the receiving end of a lot of shit; of shapeshifters and wendigos and poltergeists. He has a particularly nasty scar on his back from when he had pushed you away from an enraged werewolf that still hurts like a bitch during full moons. But he swears nothing, not even the chimera bite or the aftershocks of the demon possession that almost killed him eight months ago, not even all his shitty encounters combined, hurt even a fraction as much as the words leaving your mouth. “That’s what happens when people die!”

Minghao’s throat closes up, every scathing remark and offensive comeback turning into ashes in his mouth. There’s this secret that Minghao carries around, neatly tucked into his chest and hidden behind a hard, sarcastic exterior. It simmers and grows within him, and if the uncomfortable prickling in his eyes is anything to go by, it’s about to spill.

Minghao is, at the root of things, embarrassingly sensitive and emotional. He can’t even deny, nor does he care to, the way his voice breaks at the syllables. “I can’t. Not with you.”

~~

Minghao always felt pretty confident in the fact that you loved him, but he knew he loved you more. It’s not a competition, you’d tell him, eyes rolling but mouth quirking in a smile nonetheless. He knows it’s not a competition, he’d reply.

(But if it was, he’d win.) 

He’d had a hunch even the first time he’d seen you, covered from head to toe in swamp water and selkie blood, that you were something special. Hair sticking to your face and breath labored, with a shotgun aimed directly at his face and a dead creature lying between you in the shallow water, one could say that your first meeting had been somewhat less than pleasant. 

Somewhere behind you, a male voice was calling out what Minghao had assumed, but not actually gotten to confirm until much later, was your name. You had just stared, barely even blinking, mouth slightly open and small puffs of air visible as you exhaled.

It wasn’t something as silly as ‘love at first sight’, but Minghao would be a fool to deny the rumbling, warm feeling in his stomach.

“What the-” a blond man with a fair face appeared behind you, making both you and Minghao jump. “You shot the selkie? Are you insane?”

You’d lowered the shotgun, then, turning to the man with an annoyed knit of your eyebrows. With your free hand, you wiped at your face, trying - and failing - to rid yourself of some of the slimy liquid. The man scoffed. “You look like an absolute madwoman.”

“I swear, Seungkwan,” you rumbled, voice low and dangerous. Even if it wasn’t directed at him, Minghao felt a shiver tingle along his spine. “What the fuck was I gonna do? She was about to chew his face off.” You gestured towards Minghao, acknowledging his existence for the first time, and the man - Seungkwan, Minghao assumed - turned his head to look at him. 

He must’ve looked quite the sight himself, Minghao remembered thinking; half-sitting, half-lying in the swamp water and completely drenched himself after the struggle with the crazy sea creature. He hadn’t even known of it’s existence, only entering the area because of the rumors of a ‘swamp monster’. Though, in retrospect, the encounter was a lucky one, even if his favorite shirt was utterly ruined. 

Seungkwan, immaculate and statuesque in comparison to Minghao’s own disheveled appearance, did not look impressed. He hmm’ed, arms crossed and lips pursed. “And who’s this little mermaid, then?” 

Minghao decided he did not like Seungkwan. 

“No idea,” You’d answered, as if Minghao wasn’t even there. “He was mud-wrestling the selkie when I found them.”

“Tantalizing imagery, that,” Seungkwan murmured. “Is he gonna pay the bounty, too? A lot of cash was riding on this.” 

Minghao realized, then, who the two of you are. There aren’t a lack of bounty hunters out there, not when the world is such a big and scary place filled with threats that are both human and supernatural. But there aren’t many good or particularly well-known ones; veteran hunters who knows not to let greed lead them. 

Soonyoung had been gushing over it for months, over the duo who seemingly popped out of nowhere and took on any task if the pay was good enough. A girl and a boy, he’d said, about our age. It was apparent, looking at the two of you bickering over money and dead selkies, that you were the duo Soonyoung was talking about.

Minghao had thought, at the time, that you were both kind of overrated. You were a clean shot, sure, and undeniably attractive, but Seungkwan managed to grate on him more in five minutes than three years of Soonyoung’s sleep talking and snoring ever had. When the two of you had excused yourselves, bickering even as you did, Minghao had felt nothing but a frown pull at his features, annoyance over his drenched disposition and ripped clothes the most prevalent feeling in his chest. 

He still couldn’t quite stop thinking about the look on your face, about the gleam in your eyes and the slight redness to your cheeks, as you stood in front of him with a gun aimed right at his head. 

He tried not to dwell on that.

~~

The first breakdown comes as you’re about to take a bath. Neither of you able to stand the awkwardness and the prolonged silences anymore, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, murmuring humorlessly about how you smell like death. Minghao would’ve appreciated the joke had he not been painfully aware that it’s not meant as one.

When he’s alone in the room, listening to the running water from the bath, Minghao feels as if he’s finally able to breathe again. He looks around the small hotel room, at the stains and dirty clothes and the bag of equipment he had gotten from Joshua; bottles of water and easily digestible food, hot packs and painkillers. No one really had known what to expect when you came back to life, but at least the older man had had some forethought to be thorough. 

Minghao, on the other hand, feels useless. All he’d really done was put his picture in a box and made a deal with a demon, and even that task could’ve easily be given to someone else. Post-resurrection, all he seemed to do was agitate you. 

As if on cue, he hears a loud bang and a string of pretty imaginative curses coming from the bathroom. Minghao is on his feet and at the door before he can even stop to think about propriety or privacy, heart high in his throat.

You’re still fully clothed, bag of belongings thrown across the tiny room and items scattered all over the floor. The water is running in the bath, but you seem to have forgotten to put the plug in, the water just rushing down the drain instead. The look on your face is perhaps the most emotive you’ve been since coming back to life; something akin to frustration and anger making your eyes wet. 

Minghao feels his heart breaking for perhaps the thousandth time in six months. 

“I can’t,” you begin, voice cracking and fingers struggling with the buttons on your shirt. Over the course of your relationship, Minghao thinks you’ve both seen each other in some pretty vulnerable situations, but you’ve never looked as helpless and humiliated as you do right now; fingers shivering and shoulders slumped. “I can’t get my fucking clothes off.”

Minghao swallows, glances around the room once, twice, wills his still stressed heart to calm down. “Okay,” he says, once he’s sure he can properly speak without biting his tongue off. “That’s fine. Normal. Joshua said so, remember? Inactivity and all that.” Minghao’s not used to be the attentive one, the one who has to speak softly and reassure without barbs of irony or sarcasm casually thrown in his sentences. He feels awkward, fumbling for words and uncomfortably aware of every movement his body makes.

“I know what Joshua said,” you snap back, voice on the verge of poisonous, but Minghao pays it no mind. “That doesn’t exactly help right now.” You pull at your shirt as if it’s stuck to your skin, as if it itches and hurts to wear.

Inhaling through his nose and counting to three in his head, Minghao closes the bathroom door and approaches you almost like one would a scared animal. If you notice the hesitance in his steps, you do not point it out. “You’ll be fine, you just need… rehabilitation,” he grimaces at the word, at the clinical, cynical way of putting it. “I’ll help you, okay?”

He pretends not to hear the sob, knows how much you hate to cry in front of him, and his fingers feel too long, too big when he starts unbuttoning your shirt. 

It’s obviously not the first time he’s undressed you, but it’s the first time the moment feels so fragile, the atmosphere so heavy. He can’t even look at you; gaze zeroing in on each of the buttons instead, ignoring how visible your rib cage is beneath the once soft fabric of the flannel and how your collarbones stick out above your chest.

He thumbs gently over your hip bones as he pulls down your jeans, does not miss your sharp inhale or the goosebumps under his fingertips, but his voice seems to have left him, and all he can do is look at you. 

You look like a ghost, like one of the zombies he had put a bullet in ages ago, barely even a remnant of the person he used to whisper declarations of love to in the dark of the night. The thought makes him want to cry, or run away, or cling to you and never let you go; he doesn’t know which of those impulses will win out yet.

“I’ll need help washing, too,” you admit, shame painted onto your face as clearly and visible as the mud in your hair. Minghao just nods, rolls his sleeves up and helps you into the tub. 

For a while, there’s just the sound of running water, the occasional hum when Minghao’s hands glides over a particularly sore part of your body or a whimper when he pulls too hard on your hair. The color is returning, at least somewhat, to your face, roses blooming in your cheeks and joints loosening with the help of hot water. It feels so strangely intimate, even if all he’s doing is ridding you of months worth of dirt and grime, scrubbing your back and shampooing your hair, Minghao feels like he’s the one on display.

“It’s not just my body,” you mutter, once you’re clean of mud and your hair unknotted. “It’s my mind, too.” You make eye contact with him when you say this, and even then he knows what you’re talking about. He sees it in your eyes, how the color seems faded, somehow, how your face looks devoid of emotion. “Like, I know, In the back of my mind, that I love you, but I don’t feel anything.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, not without breaking down, at least, so Minghao says nothing. He blinks rapidly, willing away the unbidden tears that prickle at his eyes with the knowledge that his lover cannot feel love for him anymore. Above everything else, Minghao feels guilty. Your words ring in his eyes; was he really supposed to let you go? Would it have been better, less selfish, to just let you rest? His chest tightens. 

So lost is he, in his own thoughts, that he doesn’t notice you’re talking to him again until you take his hand in your own. Your fingers feel bony around his hand, and his mind just spirals. “If you think any harder you’re gonna hurt yourself,” you murmur, thumb pressing lightly into his skin. It’s the first sort of contact you’ve initiated, he realizes. 

“I was too harsh on you,” you continue, voice subdued. He doesn’t immediately know what you’re talking about, so he just gazes at you, at your intertwined fingers. “If anyone had taken you from me, not even the hell hounds or the four horsemen of the apocalypse could have kept me from finding you. I might not feel it right now, but I know it.”

And it’s those words, the conviction with which you say it, that breaks Minghao. He leans his head against your bare shoulder, lets you comb your fingers through his hair, and Minghao cries. He cries for the first time since you died, since you came back. He cries without inhibition, so loudly and freely that the sounds bounce against the acoustics of the tiny hotel bathroom, and when the two of you finally go to bed, still weird and uncertain with each other and occupying the opposite ends of the queen sized bed, Minghao feels a bit better.

He dreams of fire, of screams and black shadows and yellow eyes staring at him. He dreams of you, of pain and fear and the smell of sulfur and death. It’s a familiar dream, one that’s haunted his sleeping hours for the last six months and when the loud bang of a gunshot echoes in his head, he knows what’s coming. He runs towards you, fighting through what feels like a horde of wraiths to do so, but when he finally reaches you, he finds the same gruesome image as he always does these nights; 

Seungkwan on his knees, hands clasped tightly over his mouth, incoherent words and course inhales spilling between his fingers. There’s a silver gun at his side and a bleeding body in front of him. Your fingers are coated in your own blood, reaching, reaching and - falling limply a hair’s breadth away from your childhood best friend’s hyperventilating frame. 

Time stops. Minghao wakes up, coated in sweat. 

He feels as if he’s carrying someone else’s weight along with his own, and when his head finally wakes up enough to take notice of his surroundings, he feels the distinct sensation of someone’s breath against his neck. He tilts his head, and there you are. Sleeping soundly with your chin against his shoulder, arm slung over his stomach and fingers sprawled against his hip, one leg tangled with his own. His arm is asleep under your weight, but Minghao barely even notices, too transfixed by the smooth lines of your face. 

It’s the most like yourself you’ve looked since you resurrected, and even if you must’ve just crept closer in your sleep, body seeking heat, Minghao’s heart swells. He indulges in the feeling, turning to his side so he can see you better, his free hand skating gently over your jawline. He leans his forehead against yours, breathes in easy for the first time in forever. 

When he falls asleep again, his mind is free of nightmares.

~~

Soonyoung calls the very next day, just as you’re finished forcing a bowl of porridge down your dry throat. For a moment, Minghao seriously considers not taking the call, wanting nothing more than to just enjoy a few moments of normalcy with you. The frown on his face as he puts the phone to his ears must be more noticeable than he thought, because you level him with a scrutinizing glare. He ignores it.

“What?” he snaps to his friend, not bothering with pleasantries. Needless to say, his relationship with the man he once saw as his closest friend and confidante has been, in simple terms, strained, after your death. The night when Minghao almost broke Soonyoung’s nose notwithstanding, the boys have not spoken one-on-one in months.

Soonyoung replies in kind, opting for getting right to the chase. “How is she?”

Minghao looks at you, takes a moment to observe as you experimentally bend your arms and practice your fingers by buttoning and unbuttoning one of his shirts. Only when Soonyoung says his name into the phone does Minghao remember that he was asked a question. “Just dandy,” he replies.

The man on the other end of the line hums. “Good enough to go out?” 

“Soonyoung, this is really not-” 

“I’m not asking for myself,” Soonyoung cuts him off, and not for the first time Minghao envies how easily the other man speaks his mind. “Hoseok contacted me. He wants to meet her. Has some information, he says.”

Minghao’s frown deepens. He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid the crossroad demon forever, they were sort of in his debt, after all, but he’d hoped you’d at least get to be back with the living long enough to re-stabilize before having to fraternize with demons. “What information?”

The other end is silent for a tad too long, and Minghao has to glance at the screen to make sure Soonyoung hasn’t hung up on him. 

“About that night,” he says at last, voice so low Minghao barely hears him. “About whatever possessed Seungkwan.” 

And, well, that catches Minghao’s interest.

~~

“No,” was the first thing Minghao heard upon entering the diner, a mere two months after his run-in with an angry selkie and two famous bounty hunters. And two months it might’ve been, but Minghao could’ve recognized that shrill, sophisticated male voice anywhere. “We’re not even stepping into that house.”

“Seungkwan,” a second, just as familiar voice, hissed, and when Minghao craned his neck to look around the almost empty diner, he spotted you with ease. Less messy, this time, hair free of blood and clothes in almost pristine condition. Your fingers wrapped around the straw to your drink, swirling it around in a fashion that can only be described as aggressive. “It’s a lot of money.”

Minghao ended up just standing there, debating whether to turn around and leave or eavesdrop further. He watched as Seungkwan leaned over, voice low, and he heard, without mistake, the word poltergeist.

He had the time for a burger, Minghao decided.

With confident steps and a lot more gusto than he really possessed, Minghao strode over to your booth, stopping in front of the both of you. He hoped he looked more intimidating than he felt. 

He was pleased to see the flash of recognition in your eyes, for a moment indulging in the thought that maybe you had found him as difficult to forget as he had you. Seungkwan, on the other hand just looked bored. “What? We’ve already ordered.” 

Just as soon as the word left the blond’s mouth, he jumped, an exclamation of pain falling ungraciously out of his mouth. If the look of absolute disdain he shot you was anything to go by, you’d just kicked him under the table. “You ass,” you hissed. “It’s the selkie dude. From two months ago.” 

“My point still stands,” Seungkwan muttered. 

Minghao cleared his throat. “You were talking about a poltergeist.” 

The two of you had looked at each other, then, seemingly sharing some private, telepathic sort of conversation, and Minghao felt oddly out of place. Seungkwan opened his mouth, probably, Minghao thought, to argue, but you beat him to it. 

“That’s right. You want in?” It was strangely direct, not exactly what Minghao had expected, and for a moment he could only stare at you. You stared right back, sucking on your straw.

“Right,” he replied after collecting his thoughts, only to be interrupted by Seungkwan hissing your name. 

”I said we’re not doing that,” he whispered, as if Minghao wasn’t meant to hear. Minghao found it strange that these supposedly professional hunters were so scared of a single poltergeist. Sure, they weren’t the most pleasant things to deal with, but judging by Seungkwan’s white-knuckled fist, there was more than just a reluctance of work there. “It’s too dangerous.” 

”See, that’s why this is perfect,” you’d countered, throwing your hand out to gesture at Minghao. “I’ll take selkie-boy here with me, and you stay snug under your blankie at the hotel. Everyone’s happy.” You paused. “Well, except for the poltergeist, I suppose.”

Seungkwan, though reluctant, sighed, bent down to rummage through his backpack. A sign of defeat, Minghao imagined, seeing the look of glee on your face. You scooted further in, patted the now vacant spot next to you. Minghao took a seat, pretended his arm didn’t tingle where it came into contact with your own. 

”Have you ever exorcised a poltergeist before?” Seungkwan asked, pulling out a torn, old notebook. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie, like a book of curses passed down through generations, and Minghao might’ve laughed if he didn’t think he’d get kicked for it. “Who- who even are you?” He asked, as if he just realized they had not given each other their names yet, even as they were discussing exorcisms and ghosts.

”Minghao,” he replied quickly, not bothering to ask for names in return. It seemed like an empty gesture, he already had your name memorized. “And yes. A couple.” He glanced sideways, instantly locking eyes with you. You had your chin balanced in your palm, elbow on the table, eyes gleaming as they observed him intently.

”Then you know the basics,” Seungkwan continued, fingers flipping over the pages in his little book at a rapid speed. He sounded like a completely different person, now, concentrated and with intent basically dripping from the syllables. “They’re mostly harmless. Pranksters. Making floors creak and furniture move and all that shit.” Minghao nodded along. It had been a while since he had worked with anyone, ever since Soonyoung returned home to attend a funeral and subsequently went MIA Minghao had been working alone. His spine tingled. 

“This one’s a bit more vicious,” you went on, eyes on the book. “Which is what has got Seungkwan’s panties in such a twist.”

“My panties are not twisted! This thing is fucking twisted!” Seungkwan interjected. You made an elaborate and over the top pout. Your lips looked soft. 

”Anyways,” Seungkwan cleared his throat. “There have been several incidents over the last couple years, most of them are written down here.” He finally stopped flipping pages, turning the book around to allow Minghao to read the contents of the page. Neatly written notes, all containing information on this supposed poltergeist, seemingly pretty new. Most hunters had their own collection of notes about different creatures and monsters, but Minghao had to hand it to Seungkwan; he was thorough.

“If this goddamned poltergeist kills you,” Seungkwan turns his attention to you, pointing a long, thin finger in your direction. Minghao barely pays attention to the conversation, too busy scanning over the notes in front of him. “I will fucking murder you.” You laughed. Minghao’s ears turned red.

The poltergeist did not, in fact, kill you. Or Minghao, for that matter, but then that didn’t seem to be Seungkwan’s priority. It did, however, turn out to be more a pain than either you or Minghao had expected, and when you finally collect your bounty, you look utterly knocked out. 

That didn’t stop you from making Minghao join you at the local pub for celebratory drinks after a job well done. 

”Seungkwan doesn’t get to join,” you’d said, a smile toying with the edges of your lips. “No labor, no drinks.” 

You told him why Seungkwan was so freaked out by a mere poltergeist; turns out his family comes from a long line of psychics. Which, with all the perks Minghao had always imagined psychics to have; telepathy, communicating with spirits and easier exorcisms, also came with quite the downside - they were deeply connected to the other world, and much easier to possess.

”We had a run-in with a nasty spirit last year,” you explained, pulling down the the neck of your sweater to show Minghao a gruesome scar across your shoulder blade. “He’s refused to work with spirits ever since.” 

Minghao supposed there was more to people than meets the eye.

The rest of the night would remain a blur to him, but he thinks it must have been the alcohol coursing through his system that had urged him to place his hands on your hips, pushing you against the cold concrete of the alley you’d snuck off to and pressing his lips against yours.

He wouldn’t remember much in the morning, but not even a blow to the head could make him forget the soft moan from your mouth when he pressed against you, licked at your lips, your teeth grazing his bottom lip. He swore he could feel the remnants of your fingers in his hair even days later.

It might not have been love at first sight, but - 

it was pretty damn close.

~~

"You and Soonyoung have gotten worse,” you suddenly observe, as the two of you are driving to the crossroad where Hoseok resides. It’s a long ride, and not one Minghao wants to spend talking about Soonyoung. He exhales sharply through his nose. You toy with the hem of the sweater - Minghao’s sweater - you’re wearing. 

“Things have been… tense.. these last six months,” he responds vaguely, keeping his eyes on the road. You scoff. 

“You’ve been tense for ages. That was something else.”

Minghao chews on his bottom lip. “We had some disagreements after you died, I don’t really want to talk about it.” It’s the most genuine thing he can think of to say; just the thoughts brings images of accusations of betrayal, venomous words and almost-fist fights, and in the few moments when Minghao is not pissed off at Soonyoung, he misses his friend. 

“Fine,” you relent, moving restlessly in your seat. “Let’s talk about something else, then. Where’s Seungkwan?”

Minghao’s stomach drops. He knew you would ask, because of course you would ask about Seungkwan. But he doesn’t know how much you know, what you remember from dying, and he certainly does not know what to say about your best friend. 

You feel that reluctance, he thinks, because your voice is hard when you speak again. “Minghao. Where’s Seungkwan?”

Minghao clears his throat. “What do you remember from-” he halts, something dark and painful blocking his throat. He hates this, hates asking you about it. He knew he’d have to, at some point, but it seems like time really is not on his side. “From that night?” he finishes. 

For a moment, only the sound of the engine fills Minghao’s ears. He glances over at you, finding you staring wistfully out the side window. Your lips are just a grim line, your eyebrows knit together, hands grasping at each other in your lap. It’s an automatic impulse when he reaches over to take your hand, but he’s happy to see that your own actions seem to be automatic as well, taking both of your own hands and enveloping his in them. 

“He knows it’s not his fault, right?” your voice is quiet, a complete contrast to the vice-like grip you have on his hand, and Minghao supposes that’s a good an answer as any. 

“He didn’t take it well,” he admits, thinking about a pretty, blond boy with an aristocratic face, a man who always found the time for snappy comebacks and awful jokes. Minghao doesn’t think, even with your resurrection, that Seungkwan will ever be the same person again. 

“Doesn’t he want to see me?” you mutter, for the first time letting insecurity coat your voice. Minghao knows you’re self-conscious, that the whole thing terrifies you. He’s seen the way you look at yourself in the mirror sometimes, as if you’re scared you’ll fall apart or worms will start crawling out of your ears. He squeezes your hand. 

“He loves you. Of course he wants to see you. He’s not sure you want to see him.”

You sigh, a tired sound, and close your eyes and lean your head against the window. “Let’s just get this meeting over with. I want to go home.” 

Minghao could not agree more.

You’re both faced with the crossroad demon an hour later, the sun setting in the distance and coating the road in orange-red light that reflects prettily in the demon’s hair. He’d look almost ethereal, Minghao thinks, if he wasn’t so sinister. 

The demon tilts his head, scans you up and down a few times with a pondering hum. Minghao steps closer, fingers itching to grab onto you. 

“So,” Hoseok muses, a finger coming up to stroke his chin thoughtfully. “This is what has the whole underworld quaking in their boots? I can’t say I get it.”

You shrug your shoulders, putting on a face of pure disinterest. You never did have much tolerance for demons, especially not the ones who took on human hosts. “I can’t say I do either.”

Hoseok chuckles. “At least she’s spunky,” he says. “I like that.” He takes a step closer, and Minghao takes a protective step on his own to stand in front of you. The demon laughs, waves a long hand in your direction. “Come on,” he says. “As if I would’ve exhausted my abilities and angered the underworld just to hurt her now. You’re both safe here. For now.”

“We were told you had information for us,” you press a hand against Minghao’s arm, both a reassuring gesture, and a show of confidence; a subtle way of letting Hoseok know that you don’t need protection. It’s a pointless gesture, Minghao thinks, you have his protection whether you want it or not, but he lets it slide. “I’m sure you want something for it.” 

“Your boys have been quite resolute in their keeping of their promise to me,” the demon hums, hands in his pockets. “As such, this one’s on me.” 

He looks up at the darkening sky. “Have you ever heard of the creatures called rakshasa?” 

Minghao has not, surprisingly enough, but the way you stiffen besides him tells him you have. He thinks about the small, leather notebook stuffed into a backpack, about elegant fingers flipping through pages at an alarming speed. 

“A chaos demon?” You ask, voice this close to trembling. Your grip on Minghao’s arm tightens. “What does that have to do with me?”

Hoseok tsk’s. “A chaos demon, indeed. One that was none too pleased with being mistaken for a simple poltergeist and attempted exorcised.”

It hits you both, it seems, at the same time. The first job you did together, that haunted house in a town long forgotten. Seungkwan’s insistent reluctance and the strange incidents that did not seem like a simple ghost. You look at each other. 

“Ah, looks like it rings a bell. Rakshasa are stubborn things, they latch onto hate like vermin,” Hoseok’s voice does not match his words; he sounds irreverent, as if he’s talking about a dear friend rather than a vengeful spirit. “Above all else,” he continues. “They adore the chase. The pain of ripping someone away from their loved ones. And killing his target by the hands of their best friend? Masterful.”

Fear courses through Minghao’s veins. Hoseok has been nothing but pleasant, if a bit creepy, up until now, but Minghao should not have forgotten that they were dealing with a demon. The crossroad demon’s eyes glint, blood red light shining at you both like a laser. 

“Good luck with this one,” he says with a bow and a wink. “You’re going to need it.” 

The demon disappears with the last few beams of sunlight.

~~ 

The night you died had been a cold one, air visible as it left your mouths. teeth clattering and bodies shaking. You had been scouting; you, Minghao, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, looking for a group of werewolves that had reportedly disappeared in the area. 

It was, for all intents and purposes, a low-risk mission. Recon. 

But then the black fog came. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a heavy, dark smog had seeped over you from between the trees, covering the entire area and the sky above you in darkness. Minghao had lost track of you, stretching his arms around and calling your name to no avail. His heart hammered in his chest. He was enveloped in silence, his yells not even creating an echo. For a moment he thought he might have gone blind. 

And then he smelled fire. 

He didn’t see it at first, the black fog so overwhelmingly dark and thick that it might have even blocked the smell, had it not come from somewhere nearby. He felt it, before he even saw it; hot and scalding on his skin, scorching the hair on his arm and licking at his side. He’d yelped, jumping away from the vicious flames.

That’s when he’d really started to worry.

He found Soonyoung first, nursing a burnt arm not too far from him. It might have been to his left, or maybe directly behind him, Minghao couldn’t be sure. Had he just been fighting with his friend earlier that day? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that Soonyoung was safe, second degree burns aside, but neither of them could find your or Seungkwan.

The first wraith showed itself by clawing down his back, ribboning both his jacket and the skin on his back, and Minghao had to bite down on his tongue to contain the scream that tore at his throat. He could worry about that later.

He swore he’d been walking for hours, using nothing but his hands and his sense of direction - stunted as it was with the wraiths and the flames and the fog - before he finally heard it; your voice, muted by the thickness of the fuck and the sizzling of flames, but somehow still clear as day in his ears. 

“Seungkwan, please,” you’d pleaded, desperation tinting your voice and pain edging your syllables. “Seungkwan. Listen to me. You’re stronger than this.”

Minghao followed your voice, heard it grow stronger, then weaker, then stronger again, cracking and wavering but repeating the same over and over. Seungkwan. Seungkwan. I love you, please come back to me.

A gunshot rung in Minghao’s ears, the familiar sound of the colt you kept on your person at all times, and Minghao can’t breathe.

It happened all at once; the fog lifted and the fire died, the wraiths stopped in their movements to float as yellow-eyed statues in the air. Minghao could see Soonyoung right behind him, covered in soot and ashes and gripping his arm with a grimace on his face.

And he could see Seungkwan in front of him, a ways away, on his knees. His hands were red, covered in blood, pressed against his face and spreading the liquid like war paint across his cheekbones. It took Minghao a moment to see the collapsed figure next to the blond. 

It was such a strange moment; that tangible, real moment right before your world shatters and your heart breaks. That one second it takes for your head to catch up with your eyes and you realize that nothing will ever be the same. Minghao was standing behind Seungkwan before he could even register his legs moving. He looked down, observing the way Seungkwan’s shoulders were shaking, how his breaths were labored, course; as if it physically hurt to inhale or exhale. 

The sounds were the worst of it, the broken sobs and whimpering, nonsensical words. Minghao could make out your name, a repeated mantra of no no no and please’s and i’m sorry’s but somehow the world seemed to be stuck in slow motion and he could not move. 

“Fuck!” he heard from somewhere next to him. Or maybe it was above him, or behind him, or underneath him, Minghao couldn’t tell, couldn’t feel or see or hear anything. “Fuck!” the voice said again, louder this time. Someone gripped his shoulders. “What the fuck happened?!” Soonyoung - because it was Soonyoung, wasn’t it? - sounded as broken as Minghao felt. He wanted to throw up.

Your eyes were glassy, light already gone. A hand stretched out to reach for Seungkwan and the other clasping your chest. Everything was red. 

You were gone.

Everything else is kind of a blur. There was a funeral, Minghao thinks, a modest thing attended by your shared friends. How long did it take for Seungkwan to start talking again? A month? Two? Minghao doesn’t remember, can’t find it in him to care.

He stares at photo albums and sleeps on the couch, cannot bear to sleep in the bed the two of you used to share. He works. Minghao works a lot. He hunts vampires and slays demons, but he doesn’t find whatever took you away from him. 

He knows this, though; it’s Soonyoung who brings up the idea of resurrection, four months after your death. 

“Crossroad demons,” he’d said, as it was the most obvious thing ever. As if Minghao hadn’t considered it ten times, as if he hadn’t already dabbled in failed attempts of blood magic or summoning spells. As if Seungkwan didn’t wander the halls on extra hard days, hoping pathetically that your spirit would somehow show up. 

“What about them?” Jeonghan had offered when no one else responded to Soonyoung’s sudden exclamation. 

“Don’t bother, Jeonghan,” Minghao had grumbled, tired of Soonyoung’s attempts. “He’s just talking shit. Crossroad demons are liars. They always find loopholes.” 

“There’s this particular one,” Soonyoung continued as if Minghao never even spoke up. “He’s done it before. Joshua’s pal.”

They all knew who Soonyoung’s talking about; a young man Joshua introduced them to a few years ago out of nowhere. A pretty boy with a strong jaw and a wide smile, Minghao could not remember his name. But he could remember Joshua’s protective stance, the way he handled his friend like he was a porcelain doll. 

“Vernon?” Jeonghan asked, and Minghao hummed. That was his name. Vernon. He didn’t look particularly dead, he thought.

“He was killed by a river spirit five years ago,” Soonyoung explained, hope woven into his voice. “Joshua got him back from a crossroad demon named Hoseok, and he didn’t have to give his soul for it.”

“What did he give, then?” Minghao asked, heart pounding in spite of his skepticism. Minghao wouldn’t trust Soonyoung with deal-making, not even back when they were close friends, but he would trust Joshua.

“Apparently he asks for different things for every deal. It’s worth a shot.”

~~

Three weeks and an abundance of hotels later, Minghao finally succeeds in bringing you home. You’ve made a dozen stops on the way, gathering information and collecting tools for killing a chaos demon. You don’t know much more, honestly, but Minghao has finally managed to teach you how to use weapons again, and you can dress yourself and eat normally, so he counts it as a success. 

When you come home, Minghao barely sees you for three days, people running down your doors half the time, and you running around the other half. Soonyoung comes the first day, hugs you too tight and for too long, making Minghao’s skin itch. Jeonghan drops by the same afternoon, offering soothing words and soft touches that seem to calm you more than Minghao has been able to since you came back. 

Chan, who had been away from the country for almost a year when he learned about you death, is a mess of tears and loud sobs when he comes to visit. Minghao doesn’t mind, because you laugh as the younger man leaves still in tears two hours later. A true laugh, a bubbly thing that reminds him of tickle fights and lazy Sundays, that reminds him that there’s still hope for the two of you.

You still haven’t talked, not properly, since the bathtub incident. He’s awkward around you, fear of rejection seeping into his pores with each passing day. You seem to be returning to normal, weight returning to normal when you’re finally able eat again, hair more vibrant after Mingyu cuts it for you after returning home. The only thing that’s missing is some sort of acknowledgement that your emotions have returned. They must have, he thinks, because you sometimes absentmindedly clasp his hands or curl up next to him on the couch, but the part of him that’s scared and insecure can’t be sure.

He understands, now, that strong sense of protectiveness that seems to pour out of Joshua around Vernon.

You finally gather the courage to visit Seungkwan on the dawn of the third day. Minghao has asked around, knows that the man is home with the remainder of his family, back in the house he grew up in. You’re scared, Minghao can tell, because you keep procrastinating. He almost has to physically drag you out before you agree to visit your best friend, the man who killed you. 

Minghao doesn’t see you at all that day, besides the glimpse he caught through a window when he gets a bit worried and decides to snoop. He finds you and Seungkwan in the garden of his home, both asleep on the lawn, hands entwined. He had forgotten, he realizes, what Seungkwan’s face looked like without grief etched into his features. 

He lets you sleep, lets you enjoy the moment of piece. You’ve both deserved it. 

The question comes on the fourth day home; a month after your resurrection. 

”Minghao,” you murmur from the bed, when you’re about to go to sleep that evening. He’s standing by the closet, t-shirt in his hand, and he turns to look at you when he hears his name. You look unsure, sort of, as if you’re afraid to say what you intended to. 

”What?” he urges, voice carefully blank. You exhale through your nose, Minghao can see you swallow nervously. 

”Do you think I’m repulsive?”

Out of all the things Minghao could’ve imagined you would say, that might’ve been the last. For a moment he just stares, eyes wide and unblinking, as you twist the fabric of the blanket around your fingers nervously, avoids eye contact. The words fall out of his mouth before he can even think to stop them. 

”What the fuck?”

You frown, knuckles turning white, and it seems like you have to work against quite a bit of reluctance to get the next words out of your mouth. “You haven’t kissed me once since I came back.”

You don’t have to tell him that; Minghao’s basically been counting the days, staring at your lips and struggled against the want to kiss you, or hug you, or pull you into him when you sleep at night. But - 

”You said you didn’t-”

”I know what I said,” you cut him off, some of the usual spike returning to your voice. “Do you know what I’m saying now?” You emphasize every word, staring him right in the eyes. Minghao drops the t-shirt he’s holding, takes a few long steps until he’s right next to you and you have to look up to keep eye contact with him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper. You shiver in response, hands gripping the sheets. Minghao’s fingers twitch.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You echo, and it becomes apparent for Minghao that you’ve been just as unsure as him. He doesn’t understand why, would have teased you for it if he hadn’t been literally seconds away from combusting on the spot. Instead, he gives in, decides to give you the answer you seem to need to hear.

“Every second of every goddamned day.”

Your mouth twitches, and you pause for a moment. “Even if I was dead a month ago?”

Minghao feels dumb, then, because it’s so obvious in retrospect. The way you’re always obsessively looking at yourself in the mirror and spraying yourself with perfumes, brushing your teeth at odd hours of the day. All this time he’s been worrying about you not loving him anymore, and you’ve been worried about whether or not he finds you attractive anymore. 

“Even if you’d been dead yesterday I’d still want to kiss you,” he mutters, and it’s the weirdest compliment he’s ever given. You must think it’s strange as well, because you laugh at that. A full, body shaking, thigh-slapping laugh, such a pure and beautiful sound that Minghao wants to swallow it. 

So he does. He leans down until he can grab your face and press his lips against yours. A second before he does, he thinks he should take it slow, let you set the speed, but as soon as he feels the soft plumpness of your lips on his own, he’s lost. Seven months of yearning, of dreaming and missing and fantasizing spills into the kiss, and he can’t be sure if you pull him into the bed or if he merely just falls into it out of sheer need to be close to you.

Whatever the case, you catch him; wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into you, nails digging into his skin and teeth possessively biting into his lip. There’s nothing gentle about it, not about the way his hands glide over your body or about the way you press your pelvis against his, making him groan. It’s a mess of arms and legs and heavy breaths along hot skin, teeth against the pulse in your neck, long fingers pulling at his hair, and when you finally stop to breathe, your lips are swollen and red. 

You take his hand, place it in between your breasts, right over your heart. He feels the beats, so fast they’re almost irregular, thumping against the palm of his hand and vibrating through his arm. They echo the strong, rapid beats of his own heart hammering against his ribs, and for some reason that makes him want to cry. 

“I love you,” you murmur, your hands squeezing his. He thinks he might feel your heart speed up a notch. “I love you so, so much. I can’t believe you got me back.”

Because you truly are back, he understands, as he feels the rhythm of your heart. You’re alive and well, lying next to him in the bed you picked out together, declaring a love that comes not only from knowledge of it’s existence, but the actual emotion itself.

Minghao feels like he might burst. 

His next kiss is a much slower one. “I love you,” he says, whispered words against your lips. “Not even the four horsemen of the apocalypse could keep me from getting you back.” 

~~

There’s still a demon to slay, Minghao knows, and they are nowhere near in the clear yet. But as you sleep next to him, breathing lightly against his skin, Minghao feels confident. If not even death could keep the two of you apart, the demon has no fucking chance. 

Minghao falls asleep, and he has no nightmares.

[nishloves]

Enchanted - joshua (svt)

Please don't be in love with someone else,

please don't have somebody waiting on you~

Category : fluff ☁️ (slight angst)

Artist : Joshua (seventeen)

Words : 1.1k

"shua- slow down please," y/n called out as she panted, running after the male who got excited after seeing another water body.

"y/n, look, the aquarium looks so cool," he said, stopping for her to catch up with him.

"yeah, it does..."

"sorry for running away like that, i just got a little excited looking at the clown fish, i will make sure it doesn't happen again," he said, taking out his handkerchief and wiping the sweat lining on her face, not noticing the way her cheeks reddened, not noticing the way she looked at him and the way her throat was all muffled.

y/n loved her bestfriend, both platonically and romantically, she tried her level best to throw away every inch of romantic feeling she had towards him, but it didn't work out, the sweeter he was to her, the harder she fell for him.

she couldn't help but gaze at him, gaze at his angelic features and the way his brows would scrunch up whenever he found something fascinating, it clenched her heart, she wanted to hug him right then and there but she didn't— she couldn't, he didn't love her like she loved him.

"i was thinking, maybe after looking at the aquarium we could go for seafood?"

y/n chuckled, her laugh resounding against him as his heart shuddered, 'her laugh is pretty' was all Joshua thought.

"so your admiration for fishes is because of how tasty they are?" She jested, elbowing him lightly as joshua scoffed, " maybe. " he replied, walking away from her.

"hey! wait up!" she whispered-screamed as she waddled towards the male, who looked at her annoyed expression, she was cute in every way.

"joshua?" An unfamiliar voice was heard around them as Joshua spun around, his eyes widening as his face brightened by the arrival of new company.

"eunbi!" joshua exclaimed, as the girl rushed forward to give him a side hug, which joshua replicated.

y/n could feel her heart drop, she had never seen joshua comfortable with anyone other than his friends like that, she tried to reassure herself that she's just a friend, but was she?

"eunbi! long time no see, how are you?" he asked, breaking away from the hug.

"I'm doing well, it's been years since we both saw each other!"

"the last time i met you, you were seungkwan's bestfriend."

"well, time flies," she chuckled, her airy laughter filling in the spaces.

"oh! she's y/n, my bestfriend," joshua spoke up, clutching y/n's hand with his as he gently pulled her forward.

eunbi's eyes rested at their clutched hands as she smiled lightly, but y/n didn't seem to notice anything out of ordinary, she was too shocked.

"hey," she lightly replied, sparing a small smile towards Eunbi who greeted her with same enthusiasm.

For y/n's dismay, Joshua being the gentleman he is, asked Eunbi to accompany her as y/n cursed herself in her own head,

'ofcourse he never thought of this outing resembling to a date.'

eunbi slightly looked at y/n as she excused herself after short forty minutes, which felt like four hours to y/n, unbeknownst to them, eunbi could see the budding feelings between them, like a flower which wasn't taken care of properly, she could see the hesitation yet comfort in their eyes and she dared not enter into anything going between them.

"oh well, i think i should go, i have work to do," eunbi said, smiling at joshua and y/n.

"you won't have lunch?"

"nah, i have too much to do and too little time, don't worry, i wouldn't forget to grab a bite but i would prefer that to be near my office," she replied, smiling at joshua while giving him a side hug, her lips whispering,

"say it to her, don't keep your feelings away."

she looked back and waved at them walking away with haste.

joshua couldn't help but gaze at her leaving them, shocked at how transparent he was for her to understand him... and he wondered if y/n saw that transparency too.

"do you have a crush on her?" y/n asked, a boyish and teasing smile on her face as her heart clenched, she tried her level best to mask every negative emotion she felt.

joshua was speechless, if eunbi who hadn't conversed with him for years understood his feelings for his best friend, his best friend surely didn't.

'you're so wrong, that it's making me laugh.'

was all joshua thought as he shook his head, "nothing like that, she's just a childhood friend."

"you don't look at your friends like that—"

"i wasn't looking at her in any way!"

"sure you didn't," y/n smirked but her heart throbbed, she just wanted to curl up and cry but she couldn't, she had to show that she was happy for him.

out of pure instincts y/n clutched joshua's hand, her eyes boring at the intertwined hands, longing visible in her eyes.

and that didn't go unnoticed by joshua.

"y/n," joshua spoke, dropping her hand and facing her.

"yeah?" she asked, wariness in her eyes.

"you know what she said to me?" he asked, determined to follow up with eunbi's suggestion.

y/n gulped, preparing herself to listen to joshua liking someone else.

"what?"

"to tell you how i feel, to tell you how every single time I'm thrown off guard by your antics, how everytime you smile my heart beats faster—"

"what do you mean—"

"let me finish!" joshua asserted, his hands founds hers as he continued, "i like you, i have liked you for the longest time, it has only ever been you, hell i think I'm in love with you, in love with everything about you."

"joshua—"

"you don't have to answer me, i had to say it all—"

"josh—"

"I'm sorry for creating awkwardness between us—"

"joshua!" y/n nearly shouted, her hands enveloped his cheeks as she urged him to look at her in eyes.

"i love you too."

"what?"

"i love you."

"you do?"

"ofcourse, its always been you."

"i— can i kiss you?"

"don't ask again, you can always kiss me."

[justabigassnerd]

The Perfect Gift

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 3,144

Warnings - mentions of Goose & Carole so a smidge of angst but mostly wholesome Christmas fluff!!

Song - The Perfect Gift by Joshua Bassett

Summary - Rooster is determined to make this the perfect Christmas ever. Only problem? He can't find the perfect gift

A/N - Happy Christmas y'all! I rise from the dead once more to provide a Christmas fic for y'all! I love this song so much it's definitely one of my top Christmas songs and it's definitely a song that could work with Rooster. Anyways I'll stop rambling and let y'all get on and read. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

In the run-up to Christmas, Rooster had been worrying his ass off about what to get you. You’d been together a couple of years now and he was beginning to run out of ideas on what to get you, especially because you didn’t show much interest in anything. Despite it not being your first Christmas together, he still wanted it to be perfect. He even enlisted the help of your dad, Maverick in finding a gift, dragging him around countless malls and shops to try and find the perfect gift for you. It was the first Christmas since Rooster had allowed Maverick back into his life since cutting him out when he pulled his application to the naval academy so Rooster wanted to utilise having Maverick around and recruited him to help him hunt for presents since he knew Hangman would’ve rather done two hundred push-ups than help Rooster with his dilemma.

“Bradley, you know she doesn’t care about what you get her. Christmas is special because you’re getting to spend time together. She cares more about getting to spend time with you than any gift.” Maverick had said as Rooster dragged him into yet another jewellery shop to look at what they had to offer.

“I care about that too. But I want this to be perfect. I love her so much and I don’t know what to get her when she’s already the perfect gift.” Rooster said, and the second those words left his mouth his eyes widened, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“I got it! Okay, I’ve just had the best idea I got some work to do. But I need you to help me out.” Rooster says quickly, gesturing for Maverick to follow him and as the two men walked out of the shop, Rooster began to explain his plan.

When it came to Christmas, Rooster’s gift for you was finally complete but as it reached Christmas Eve, he began to second guess himself and began to wonder if you’d like the gift or not. He constantly put himself under a lot of pressure and you always reassured him that you’d love it no matter what.

“Bradley, honey, you could get me an empty box and I’d still love it because it was from you.” You said sweetly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, helping him to calm down enough to lie beside you in your shared bed as you snuggle into his side. As you always did, you rested your head on his chest and found yourself being lulled to sleep by Rooster’s steady heartbeat while his hand made its way to your head, messing with your hair and helping to drive you closer to sleep. However, despite how much sleep had taken a hold of you, you managed to mutter out one last ‘I love you’ before giving in to the clutches of sleep as a smile made its way across Rooster’s face.

“I love you more, sweetheart.”

The next morning, Rooster was awoken by you nuzzling closer to him for warmth as the duvet clearly did very little to provide you with warmth and Rooster, as always, accepted the opportunity for more cuddles, especially on Christmas morning. Rooster smiled to himself as you cuddled as close as humanly possible to him, you’d always said that Rooster was your own personal heater, and he never doubted your words for a second since more often than not he’d wake up with you half on top of him trying to maintain warmth. But you’d never catch him complaining about it. He wrapped both his arms around you and embraced you fully, pressing kisses to the top of your head as you begin to stir slightly. You clung tighter to him as you began to blink your eyes open, squinting at the light at first before your eyes adapted. Once you had woken up you looked up at Rooster, a tired yet happy smile on your face.

“Good morning baby.” You whisper as Rooster leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips in greeting.

“Good morning, and Merry Christmas.” Rooster replies once the two of you have parted for air.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” You say with a smile before attempting to get up only to be stopped by Rooster’s strong arms tightening around you and pulling you back into his side as you laugh.

“Bradley, we have to get up.” You manage to say through your laughter as Rooster buries his face in your shoulder and tugs the duvet right up to your shoulders.

“Nope. It’s Christmas so I think we deserve some cuddles in bed if you ask me.” He mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt as he moves to pepper kisses along your neck and jawline.

“Okay, we can cuddle for a bit, but we do have to be at dad and Penny’s for lunch like we promised.” You say, giving in to your boyfriend’s request almost instantly.

“You mean you promised Mav we’d be there.” Rooster retorts jokingly as you roll your eyes in response.

“It’s the first Christmas since you two made up. Christmas doesn’t need to be split up anymore because my boyfriend refuses to be within five feet of my dad.” You say with a raised eyebrow as Rooster pulls away slightly, sitting up and avoiding your eyes out of embarrassment.

“Oh, Bradley I’m sorry that was a bad joke. I’m over the moon that you and dad are getting along, really, I am. It makes me so happy you two are getting on. It means I don’t have to spend time with one or the other on days like this. I get to be with both of you.” You say, sitting up, cupping Rooster’s face gently, and lifting it so his eyes meet yours.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You apologise once more, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry too. My anger towards Mav put you in a bad situation. And I’m so sorry for it.” Rooster then apologises, making you lean further into him, so your lips connect.

“You don’t need to apologise. I understand. How about we both stop apologising and cuddle for a bit more before getting up, hmm?” You offer, watching as a smile crosses your boyfriend’s beautiful face once more before wrapping his arms around you and flopping back against the mattress with you laying atop his chest as you both laugh. The two of you lie in bed, enjoying each other’s embrace for a few minutes before you decide it’s time you should get up and start the day. You get up first as Rooster pouts, with you pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m going for a shower. I won’t be gone forever, pretty boy.” You say before disappearing into the bathroom and the familiar sound of the shower running starts as Rooster lies in bed, going over how the gift he has could go down with you. He tries to keep his mind from running by focusing on the humming he hears coming from the bathroom and takes some deep breaths. Before he knew it, you had emerged from the bathroom, allowing him to get showered while you got changed. When he’d finished his shower and got changed, he joined you downstairs where you were pouring both him and yourself a cup of coffee as well as preparing breakfast. Rooster helped to finish breakfast which the two of you ate before taking your coffee cups into the living room where the Christmas tree was sat waiting with gifts underneath from each other and your fellow aviators. You decided to open the gifts from Dagger Squad first, laughing to each other when Rooster continually unwrapped more and more Hawaiian shirts to add to his never-ending collection of them. You unwrapped a variety of different items from each aviator and the two of you sent a message to each of your friends thanking them for their gifts before you move on to gifts from each other. You got Rooster a few different gifts, some of his favourite aftershave, and a new book of sheet music to play on the piano. But your final gift was a special one. You gave Rooster a Hawaiian shirt that was a carbon copy of the one his dad used to wear. You knew his original one had gotten lost in a move and Rooster had been beyond devastated so you spoke with your dad, who found a picture of Goose with his bright blue Hawaiian shirt on and the two of you were able to track down a similar shirt.

When it came to Rooster’s turn, he was sweating buckets when he handed you the first couple of gifts. He and Mav had been able to track down a few small things you’d like before he got to the main present. He got you perfume and a new pair of earrings before he told you to close your eyes so he could run upstairs to grab something. When you opened your eyes at his request you saw him sat in front of you with his guitar in hand.

“I’m going to be honest. Getting you something this year was the hardest it’s ever been because I wanted everything to be so perfect for you and so I kind of wrote a song because how could I find a perfect gift when the perfect gift is you?” Rooster says, making you smile widely as he begins to strum on his guitar and sing.

As Rooster began to sing, every lyric of his song brought memories of your relationship into your head. The first kiss the two of you shared under the night sky after Rooster took you out on a date. Holding Rooster as he sobbed when he found out your dad pulled his papers. He was initially angry at you too until you managed to calm him down and convince him of your innocence. You remembered being there by his side as your dad walked into the room the day of your first training session for the uranium mission, holding his hand to soothe him as your dad took over from Cyclone. You remembered every little detail about Bradley Bradshaw that you loved. The scars on his face that you loved to kiss. His sandy-coloured hair that you loved to run your hands through. His gorgeous singing voice that could overpower every patron of the Hard Deck when singing ‘Great Balls of Fire’. How he was the most badass aviator but was the sweetest guy when the two of you were at home. How he made you feel loved and protected. He was your best friend, and you were grateful you were able to love a man like Bradley Bradshaw.

When he finished his song, you wiped the tears you hadn’t realised had fallen down your cheeks and clapped as Rooster gave you a sheepish smile before putting his guitar to the side just in time for you to launch into his arms for a hug and a kiss.

“Did you like it?” He asks nervously when you pull away.

“Was the fact I tackled you into a hug and kissed you like there’s no tomorrow not a good enough answer? I loved it, baby.” You say, wiping the remainder of your tears before moving to sit opposite Rooster.

“I’m glad you liked it. You actually have one more present. I put it in the tree.” Rooster says as you stand up from where you were sat on the floor and start searching the tree but not seeing any sign of the present he’s talking about.

“Bradley I can’t see anything. What’s this all about?” You say, eyes still scouring the tree until your eyes land on a piece of paper nestled in amongst the pine needles. You grab it and open it carefully seeing the words ‘turn around’ written on it and you do as the paper says, folding it back up to ask Rooster what was going on before you gasped, dropping the paper at the sight before you. Rooster was on one knee with a small velvet box in his hands, a gorgeous ring settled inside as more happy tears began to well in your eyes.

“y/n Mitchell. You’ve been my best friend my whole life and I’m the luckiest guy in the world to get to call you, my girlfriend. But I’d be even luckier if I got to call you, my wife. You’ve been with me through thick and thin and there’s no one else on this world I can imagine spending the rest of my life with other than you. Will you marry me?” He asks, making you nod repeatedly before words were finally able to escape your mouth.

“Yes! Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!” You exclaim happily as Rooster stands up to pull you into an embrace hugging you tightly before your lips crash with his. Both of you were smiling too much so the kiss became two smiles pressed together but you were both so happy you couldn’t stop smiling. When you pulled away, Rooster took your left hand in his own and slipped the ring on your finger, grinning. You stared at the ring in awe before a spark of realisation overcame you.

“Is this… your mum's ring?” You ask cautiously, remembering when you were younger, and you’d see this ring shining on Carole’s hand. That and her wedding ring being a way to keep Goose with her.

“Yeah. She gave it to me before she died. She said to use it when I met the right girl. But between you and me I think she wanted it to be you from the get-go.” Rooster admits, both of you smiling as you look back at the ring. You knew that Goose and Carole were watching over their son and that they were probably cheering like they were watching a football game when he proposed.

“We should probably head to Mav’s, huh? Tell him the good news?” Rooster then says, smiling knowingly as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Something tells me you and dad were in on this together?” You ask as you grab the gifts for your dad, Penny, and Amelia before putting on your shoes and heading out to the Bronco.

“I did most of the work. He just gave me his permission to propose to you.” Rooster says as he climbs into the car, starting the engine and beginning the drive to your dad’s house. When you arrive you and Rooster grab the gifts and knock on the door to be greeted by your dad who throws the door open.

“I take it from the fact that the two of you arrived together everything went well?” Your dad asks, looking over at Rooster as he nods, lifting your connected hands and showing the ring glistening on your finger.

“Congratulations you two. I couldn’t be happier.” Your dad then says, bringing you into the house before engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Thank you, dad.” You whisper as he hugs you tighter.

“I’m so happy for you sweetheart. You deserve the best and Bradley is the only man I trust to provide you with nothing but the best.” He replies, making you laugh lightly against his shoulder before you pull away.

“Come on. Let’s tell Penny and Amelia the good news.” Rooster then says, gathering up the presents you had put down so you could hug Maverick and heading into the living room to join the two.

"We heard you in the hall. Congratulations you two!" Penny says happily as Amelia grins.

“There goes the surprise then. Merry Christmas you two.” You and Rooster greet as you settle down on the sofa, handing each gift to their respective person and watching as they unwrap them. When the gifts have been exchanged Penny and Amelia turn to you.

“Let us see the ring, y/n.” Amelia all but begs, both of them leaning closer when you extend your hand towards them so they could get a closer look at the ring.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous, y/n.” Penny gushes, admiring the ring as Rooster winds his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not as gorgeous as her.” Rooster shamelessly flirts as Amelia groans and Maverick slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up.

“And just for that disgustingly cute comment. You’re on dinner duty with me. Come on in the kitchen.” He says, gesturing for Rooster to follow him into the kitchen while you stay in the living room with Penny and Amelia to have a catch-up.

“She’s lucky to have you, you know.” Maverick’s voice cuts through the quietly playing Christmas music in the kitchen as Rooster looks up from where he was peeling potatoes.

“I’m the lucky one.” Rooster replies with a laugh as he hears you telling the two in the living room how the proposal happened.

“Goose and Carole always had a bet going that you two would end up together. I was against it because I hated the thought of my little girl dating anyone, but I was very wrong. There’s no one better for her than you.” Maverick then says, memories of his old friends coming to the surface as he remembers him and Goose watching the two of you one day as you toddled around on the beach when Goose made the offhand comment that he was sure the two of you would end up together in your future.

“I miss them so much. I just wish they could be here.” Rooster manages to say after a brief silence. Thinking about how much he wants his parents to see him get married to the woman he loves most in the world.

“I miss them too, kid. But I know they are so proud of you. You were their world Bradley, so I know they’ve been cheering you on every step of your journey. I want them to be at your wedding just as much as you do but I know they’ll be there in spirit. They’re still with us.” Maverick says, turning to face the man soon to become his son-in-law. Rooster nods at his words with misty eyes and Maverick wastes no time bringing him into a hug which Rooster welcomes. When he pulled away, he thanked Maverick quietly and wiped his eyes of any potential tears before hearing your laughter coming from the other room, which brought a smile to his face. He was already so excited about getting to call you, his fiancée. But what he couldn’t wait for was to be able to introduce you to people as Mrs Bradshaw. His wife.

[countrymusiclover]

8 - Date with an Original Hybrid

Part 9

Gemini Runaway

@dragonixfrye

"Mom, what happened?" Jacob ran outside the car when we pulled up to a large house that belonged to our Uncle Joshua.

Our mother Eliza came down the staircase of the house almost sobbing in tears. She ran forward embracing my brother and I in her arms crying. "Oh my babies!"

"Mom, what happened?" My twin brother asked again seeing that she didn't answer him earlier.

She shakes her head when I peaked over her shoulders seeing that my cousin Josette was stumbling from the woods and towards the porch. But I jumped to my feet noticing blood on her shirt in her lower stomach. "Jo, what happened to you!"

"Rae, it's alright. It's just…I…" My cousin paused taking my hands in hers once I had reached her. "Huh…my twin brother stabbed me with a hunting knife. But he's gone now."

Squeezing her hands in mine I began to tug her towards the house figuring that she couldn't enter that house again. "Do you want me to come with you so you can change out of the bloody clothes?"

"If you don't mind." She muttered glancing in the direction of my mother who was still hugging my brother clearly distrat over whatever had happened while she was in the woods with her brother and the rest of our supposed Coven.

Clutching her hand in mine both of us walked up the stairs where she creaked open the front door first. I gasped covering my mouth with the smell of blood filled my nose. Slowly entering the house I could see marks across the walls. One bed was flipped over and I could see a blood stain on the wooden floor. "I did what I had too. So I could protect my siblings with magic. But I can't stay in this house anymore."

"I wouldn't blame you, Jo. Now you're free from someone trying to kill you." I responded squeezing her hand tightly in mine hoping that I wouldn't have to smell fresh blood or nearly run from death myself.

Moaning in slight pain I felt the soft material underneath my body. Blinking my eyes I held myself up on my elbow immediately yanking back the covers that were on me thinking that I was still bleeding from where Mikael stabbed me last night. Yet I find the exact opposite lifting up a green tea shirt that was on me I found that there wasn't even a scar at all. "I know I didn't dream being stabbed or passing out so how am I healed without blood?"

"Because I healed you quickly before you completely passed out." Whipping my head up I yanked the shirt down seeing Klaus walking in through the doorway, hands behind his back until he standing in front of me. "I'm glad to see it worked in time though. I wasn’t sure if you had gotten enough or not."

Pushing my hair out of my eyes I slumped my shoulders tossing the remainder of the covers off of me. Swinging my legs over the side I tried to stand but I stumbled backwards flopping down on the bed. "I think I'm okay. So what happened after I passed out?"

"You told me you wanted to go on a date with me. I also watched my bastard father burn meaning that I am to be rid of him. All the other details aren't something you need to know." He responded simply moving to stand by the window looking down at the street.

Shifting around in the bed to watch him. Last night surprised me when I saw him raise his tone towards his father. Even though later he shed some tears when I was stabbed right in front of him. "Well you did ask if I would go on a date with you. What exactly would a date with an original hybrid detail?"

"Whatever you want it to be, love." He responded coming over sitting down on the edge of the bed where we were sitting close to each other. "It can be simple or expensive. Money isn't a problem, Raelyn."

Biting my lip I tried to think back to what kind of date I wanted to have be my first. Since my brother and I were raised almost off the grid we didn't do any dating. "What if I don't know what kind of date I want, Nik?"

"Then we can do everything. Whatever your mind can think of." He responded by meeting my gaze with those baby blues.

Tapping my fingers on my legs I quickly thought simply replying back to him. "I'd say take me out to dinner but you don't have to go overboard. I've never had a date with anyone. So I'm gonna be completely nervous honestly."

"Then you should be spoiled just a little. So long as I am the one taking you to dinner.' He clasped his hands together rising to his feet heading towards the doorway. "Wear whatever you want. We can go buy you some more clothes later. I won't tell Rebekah."

Climbing out of the bed I opened the closet door of the blonde original flipping through her outfits. Most of them showed too much in my opinion but there was a dress that looked pretty simple to my taste. Slipping the dress over my head I eyed myself in the mirror noticing that it was a light red-orange that fell down to my knees. It had thin straps and I paired it with some cowgirl boots that I had bought with Caroline one day. Walking out of the room I twirled my brothers necklace in my hands clipping it behind my neck seeing Klaus waiting for me. "I must say Caroline has rather good taste. Shall we, Raelyn."

He insisted on driving a car that surprised me considering I thought he would just vamp us everywhere like normal. Looping my arm through his he opened the door for me where I noticed that we had left Mystic Falls and were in the next toes over at a steakhouse. He pulled out the chair for me then heading to his side of the table. "So is this too much for you?"

"It's fine. Just don't go overboard on the first date okay." I told him simply leaning back in my chair.

He smirked slightly proud of himself already. "There will be more than a first date then, love."

"Don't think I will boost your ego bigger than it already is, Klaus." I warned him seeing him open a bottle of champagne pouring me some.

He watched me raise it my lips just sending me a smile across the table. He was wearing a black dinner jacket with a white shirt underneath it. With some black pants and some dress shoes but not as fancy as what he wore the other night. "Tell me about yourself, Raelyn Lane."

"I don't know what to tell you. I mean can't you just enter my mind with your vampire powers or something." I asked not seeing exactly what I could tell him that he couldn't figure out on his own.

He threw his hands up then intertwined them together resting his chin on them once more. "I could, yes. But I won't for you."

"Hmmm..okay. Let's see, I don't really have any friends since it used to be me, my brother and our parents. I've never had any of the firsts but now I can cross first dare off the list and first drink of alcohol…" I paused snapping my fingers at the hybrid. "Oh I haven't really traveled anywhere."

"Well then darling where do you wish to go. Paris, Rome, London." He perked up at me grinning.

Raising my hands I almost couldn't take the original hybrid seriously. He was honestly overwhelming me at this point. I never intended on finding someone like him to be the guy that would take me on my first date. He's basically a prince charming from the fairytale we are told as kids but he has a slight darker side. Maybe even I do too. "Woah, woah, Klaus Mikaelson. I am no where near the level of high folutine princess material-"

"You are to me, Raelyn." He reached across the table grasping my hands in his, there wasn't a second of hesitation in his sweet tone. "What can I do to make you see you the way you are hmm?"

Glancing at our intertwined hands I sighed slumping my shoulders tapping my thumbs over his palms. "I could show you the memories that haunt me, but not here. The spell requires me to have somewhere to lay down since it will drain my energy."

"Then we shall go, Rae. And I'll show you the man I am." He tugged me to my feet where the dress twirling around me softly.

I lifted my gaze up to his sucking in a breath when our noses hit one another. I had never been this close to a guy that wasn't my brother when we wrestle each other on the living room floor. Klaus moved his freehand not in mine to my waist tugging me closer with his eyes roaming over my body in the dress. He did the same thing I wore the dress he picked out for the other night and I feel my cheeks turning a bright red. He leans forward and I began to lean towards his lips until we were inches away from kissing so I pulled my head back lightly clearing my throat. "Uh we should get back to the house if you want to talk more."

"Uh right…right Raelyn." He cleared his throat watching me walk towards the doorway where he felt his face turn s little red thinking back on the moment he almost kissed her.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[wildfluwer]

Kinktober Day 9

Hong Jisoo (조슈아) – Bathtub Sex

Word Count: 957

Warnings: Bathtub sex, established relationship, idk what else sorry😅

It had been a very long week for the both of you, working till late and getting up early for work and schedules. Both of you were exhausted and in desperate need of relaxation.

Joshua took it upon himself to put the little plan he had been thinking of into action. When he arrived home, you were waiting for him as always, getting off the couch to greet him with a hug.

He ordered your favorite takeaway so neither of you would have to cook. You watched your favorite movie together, a shitty romance film that was decades old. It was nostalgic and cheesy in a way that made you both feel at home.

Joshua disappeared after some time, appearing a few minutes later with wet hands. You could faintly hear the sound of running water upstairs as he walks over to you and hold his hand out for you to take.

You take it, allowing him to take you upstairs and into the bathroom. “I thought you might like a relaxing bath after this week,” He’s almost shy as you grin and turn to face him.

The whole room smells like your favorite lavender bath salts, the smell comforting and just what you need. “I love you so much, you know that?” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he closes the gap between your faces to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“I love you too,” He smiles, peppering kisses over your face until you’re giggling. “Are you going to join me?” You ask, slipping off your shirt and throwing into the laundry basket in the corner of the room.

“If you want me too?” He replies, unable to hide his smile. He’d been hoping you’d ask him to join you even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting hard. Just the sight of your gorgeous body is enough to get him worked up.

He follows your lead, stripping off his clothes and helping you into the hot water. You scoot forwards, allowing him to slide in behind you.

You lean back against his chest, closing your eyes as his hands roam your body. He tries to angle your body away from his boner but he knows you can feel it pressing into your back.

“We’ve never fucked in the bath,” You think out loud, hearing Joshua chuckle behind you as his hands trace shapes over your shoulders and collarbones.

“Fancy changing that?” He asks you with a smirk, hand coming down to grope your breast. You hum in agreement, arching into his touch. His other hand comes to your other breast, playing with your nipple as the buds harden under his touch.

You turn around, sitting on his lap and grinding your pussy over his hard cock. Both of you let out loud moans, Joshua’s hips bucking up in search of more friction.

He grabs your chin, pulling your face to his so he can slam his lips onto yours. The kiss is sloppy and messy as your teeth almost clash. You’re so wet already, the feeling of his cock and the water making you so needy.

He reaches his hand down, fingers running through your folds so see how wet you are. “So wet for me already,” He mumbles, biting his lip at the way you whimper and grind down harder against his cock and fingers.

“Please fuck me,” You plead, not caring that you’re already begging. You just want to be fucked stupid at this point. Joshua gives in to your request, lining his tip up with your hole.

He pushes in with no warning, burying his cock inside of you as you let out moans of his name. He pulls your hips down as he thrusts up into you, the water so close to going over the side of the tub.

You grip onto his shoulder, nails digging into the skin as you let out whines and moans. “Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last long,” He warns you, the feeling of your pussy and the warm water getting him to the edge much sooner than he’d like.

You nod, reaching your hand down to play with your clit. His thrusts are hitting so deep inside you as his cock brushes against your g-spot every time.

You clutch onto his bicep desperately for support, as his thrust get faster and harder. The water is leaking over the side of the tub now but neither of you can bring yourself to care right now. You’ll deal with it later.

“Cum for me baby,” His raspy groans send you over the edge, your head falling back as you curse and moan his name. Your pussy clenches down around his cock, walls fluttering and sucking him in.

He twitches inside you, thrusts faltering. He quickly pulls out of you, jerking his cock a few times before ropes of sticky cum cover your thighs and his lower stomach. He leans up to connect your lips before pulling away so you can both catch your breath.

“Fuck, we should do this more often,” He breathes, looking up at you with a grin. “Maybe we fill the tub less next time,” You point out the water on the floor you’ll now have to clean up.

“Feeling more relaxed?” He asks as you reach to drain the tub and stand up. “Definitely, thank you,” You smile warmly as he gets out and offers his hand to help you out as well.

“We really ought to shower now though,” You chuckle, looking at the cum on your thighs that wasn’t washed away by the dirty water. “Round two in the shower?” He asks with a smirk and you roll your eyes.

Tag List:

@knucklesdeepmingi @itbtoblikethatsometimes @xxtingz @kooklovesu @itz-taylor-alexis @kodzukein

[viastro]

two missions [REMAKE] | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and jeonghan go on an undercover mission to a gala to get info on one of south korea’s largest drug cartels.

ミ★ genre: undercover agents!jeonghan and reader, previous assassins!jeonghan and reader, humor, some fluff, some suspense 

ミ★ warnings: spiked drinks, mentions of drugs, implications of murder, slightly suggestive

ミ★ word count: 6,469

ミ★ pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! in honor of my one year here on tumblr, i decided to remake my very first oneshot. i was originally planning to just delete the previous version of two missions, but it’s the first oneshot i posted and i feel like that makes it have some value. i will not be linking the original as i actually dislike it a lot so AJKGBRK i tried to make this more inclusive than it used to be as i feel that was a big problem in the first version, so i hope you guys enjoy this! happy one year of viastro !!

“So you’re telling me that your next mission is to be Jeonghan’s wife again? How do you survive when you have a raging crush on the man...” Mingyu whispers rather loudly through his mouthful of french fries. You immediately turn to glare at your pretty friend, smacking his arm. “Bitch! Why would you say that so loud? While you’re still chewing your fries no less.”

Mingyu giggles in response, putting a fry into your mouth to try and calm you down. You chew it nervously, glancing over at Jeonghan talking to one of your coworkers as they stare up at the menu. Your heart pounds against your chest as your eyes trail over him. His blue dress shirt is tucked into black slacks, and you take notice of his new undercut.

“I honestly don’t know how I survive. The time he slept at my apartment? I almost fucking died because of how nervous I was. My heart stutters whenever he smiles at me, I don’t know why Cheol keeps making me be his partner on our undercover operations.” You mutter absentmindedly, watching as he tilts his head while he tries to decide what to order. Mingyu rolls his eyes, now slapping your shoulder, making you let out a whine.

“Ow!”

“You know exactly why Cheol keeps pairing up the two of you. Not only because he knows of your little crush, but the two of you were both assassins before you became secret agents. Not to mention the fact that you look good together. That’s why Cheol makes you both a married couple whenever the operation calls for it.” Mingyu explains, and you purse your lips, turning back towards Jeonghan.

Jeonghan was transferred to your department last year, and the first time the two of you met was rather humiliating to say the least as you’ve never seen a man as beautiful as him. Not to say that your coworkers aren’t pretty, but Jeonghan was the only one to make your normally composed demeanor crumble. Mingyu still likes to make fun of you for it to this day.

“Everyone, this is Yoon Jeonghan. He’s the new recruit in our team, used to be a trained assassin but now he’s with us. He’s one of our strongest next to yn.” Seungcheol announces, eyes trailing over the eleven guys, squinting when he doesn’t find you among the crowd.

“Where’s yn?”

Joshua points towards the restrooms, “Yn went to the bathroom, you know how she always flosses after lunch.”

Seungcheol sighs, knowing very well how much you care about your dental hygiene. He’s about to dismiss everyone when the door to the bathroom shuts, and everyone turns to glance at you.

“Guys, we can’t ever have jajangmyeon for lunch again. Do you know how many times I just had to brush my teeth? Because it wasn’t pleasant-”

“Yn.”

“No, Cheol. You have to hear this cause I know how much you enjoy your jajangmyeon. Also, we have to talk about using the mini before you go spray bottles I got each of you for Christmas because I’m sick and tired of walking into the restroom just to have it smell like absolute as-'' You halt your movements when you finally look up from the floor, only to lock eyes with the most ethereal man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blonde hair is parted down the middle, falling a bit past his sharp eyes. His cheekbones are prominent, pairing well with his delicate nose and lips. He’s sporting an amused smile, and you audibly gulp at the sight.

“Yn, this is Yoon Jeonghan. He’s the new recruit.” Seungcheol introduces, holding back his own laughter at how shellshocked you appear. You realize that the rest of your coworkers are also trying to keep their composure due to their shaking shoulders, but you continue to stare at the angel in awe. Jeonghan finally raises his hand up and waves,

“Hi.”

You smile awkwardly and wave back, before hurrying over to Minghao and hiding behind him and Jun. You hear the two begin to snicker, and you slap their backs, feeling warmth flood your face.

“This is fucking humiliating.”

You find yourself smiling subconsciously when Jeonghan laughs at something Eunhee said, heart warm from the angelic sound. Jeonghan feels a pair of eyes on him, and he turns his head, only to lock eyes with you. Your breath hitches and you immediately turn away and rest your forehead onto Mingyu’s shoulder, making the latter laugh as he waves towards Jeonghan.

Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrow a bit at the affectionate gesture, but grins and waves back at Mingyu when the tall man greets him. His attention is demanded once he hears his order being called, and he turns back to the counter, attention suddenly focused solely on filling his empty stomach.

“You know you’re just humiliating yourself by avoiding eye contact each time he catches your eye, right?” Mingyu asks through his smile, and you squeeze your eyes shut, knowing that it’s true.

“Shut your whore mouth.”

“That was unprovoked?!”

You lift your head up once you hear the door open, catching Jeonghan leaving the McDonalds with Eunhee. “He’s so pretty I just never know how to act when we’re not on a mission.”

Mingyu chuckles and rolls his eyes, “How are you gonna survive tomorrow night this time, yn?”

You glance at the door Jeonghan just walked out of, sighing to yourself.

“I won’t.”

“You look so good!” Seulgi squeals as you step out of the stall of the restroom. You grin shyly, fixing the gun holster on your right thigh as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “Thanks for doing my makeup Seulgi, this is so much better than anything I could’ve done.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Pfft, it was no biggie. I’m glad you asked for my help instead of Hyoon, honestly. Her makeup can be scary sometimes. I’ve been meaning to tell her that her eyeliner should at least touch the outer corner of her eye…” Seulgi trails off at the thought of Hyoon’s poor decisions in makeup. You giggle at her antics, before turning back to the mirror to look at yourself.

You eye the sheer corset of the top of the dress, trailing down towards the high slit of the silk emerald green skirt. You tilt your head to the side, adjusting the gun strapped to your thigh so that it won’t be seen. The bright crystal under each of your eyes reflects as it catches the light, and you let out a smile at the sight, thinking this might be too over the top for the gala.

“You know Seulgi, this is a mission to get more information on a drug lord. Don’t you think this is too much?” You ask, gesturing to your whole get up, putting a pause to Seulgi’s rant about Hyoon’s poor makeup decisions. Your friend smirks at you, causing you to raise an eyebrow at her.

“There’s actually two missions, yn.” You squint at her, and she narrows her eyes back at you.

You watch as Seulgi’s eyes brighten when a smile forms on her face, and she raises her arms up in the air. “To seduce Jeonghan so that the two of you will finally go on a date!”

You roll your eyes, shoving her slightly, causing Seulgi to let out a laugh. You open your mouth to tell her that she’s crazy, only to hear your phone beep in your clutch. Taking out the cool metal, you turn on your screen to find a text from Jeonghan.

“Ooo~ it's loverboy.”

“Shut your whore mouth.”

“You gotta stop saying that, yn.”

jeonghan: yn, i’m ready to go when you are. are you in the restroom on the eighth floor ?

you: yes i am !

jeonghan: okay i’ll be right there :)

Jeonghan puts his phone in his suit pocket, turning to glance at himself one more time. His emerald green blazer is over his velvet black turtleneck, paired with fitted black slacks. He eyes the silver necklace around his neck, looking at the charm that holds the tiny camera. Running a hand through his hair, he lets out a puff of air before leaving the restroom, heading towards the bathroom you’re at.

He turns the corner, seeing Seulgi walk out of the bathroom. He’s about to wave at her before he sees you step out and jesus fucking christ are those crystals under your eyes?

You’re giggling at something Seulgi said as you make sure your earring is on properly. Once you’re sure it’s secure, you turn your head, only to lock eyes with Jeonghan. You feel heat rush to your face as you take in Jeonghan’s appearance, finding him to be even more attractive than usual.

lord, i am not your strongest soldier.

“Hi.” You greet after a moment of silence passes between you three, and Jeonghan blinks out of his awed state, making you smile wider.

“You look beautiful.” Jeonghan blurts out, only to immediately turn away and bite his fist when he realizes he didn’t even return your greeting. Your eyes widen slightly, and you look down at the floor as warmth floods your face.

“Jesus Christ, just make out already. I’m taking my leave, I feel weird.” Seulgi announces, simultaneously making you and Jeonghan’s faces incredibly warm. She lets out a small, worried smile, “Make sure to be safe tonight guys, the target is at the top of the Cheol’s list for a reason.” Seulgi says, making sure to point at the both of you.

Jeonghan and you look up, giving your pretty coworker a thumbs up and saying you’ll be fine. Seulgi shakes her head a bit more urgently this time, and grasps your hand.

“I’m serious! This guy has eyes and ears everywhere, you have to make sure you’re at the top of your A-game. Look real husband and wifey, yn’s real identity is still unknown in this world of undercover agents and no one knows that Jeonghan joined hands with Seungcheol! Don’t mess up. I love you yn, you too Jeonghan.” You nod, making sure to look more determined. Jeonghan nods his head as well, giving Seulgi a thumbs up. She smiles softly, before finally walking off.

“Well, are you ready?” Jeonghan turns to ask you, and you glance at him. You take notice of the caramel colored eye contacts he has on, feeling yourself get lost in them as you nod your head.

“Let’s bust down this joint.” You say once you turn away, mustering the most determined look you can. Jeonghan chuckles into the back of his hand with a quiet, “So cute.”

“You make sure you stay beside me at all times yn. I know you’re fully capable of protecting yourself, as am I, but we work best when we’re together, okay?” Jeonghan tells you in the backseat of the SUV, staring at your gold dangly earring against your complexion.

she’s so pretty I can't believe this.

“You’re right. We should come up with a game plan though. What do we do if we end up having to be separated to learn more info? Or one of us gets caught, what happens then?” You ask, glancing up and finding the driver biting his lip nervously as he drives.

“Mingyu, I’ll be fine.” You say softly, and your friend stops biting his lip, only for a frown to take over his face. You let out a soft smile, before turning to look back at Jeonghan, who is still staring at your earring(?)

“Is there something wrong with my earrin-”

“We shouldn’t have to end up being separated, but if we do, make sure that the other is always in the other's peripheral vision. If you could, stay within an arm's distance.” Jeonghan cuts you off, snapping out of his mini trance in which he hopes you didn’t notice him blatantly ogling you. You nod slowly before he adds, “And neither of us will get caught. We’ll be okay yn.”

“We’re here.” Mingyu says from the front and you and Jeonghan glance out the car window to see that you’ve arrived at the hotel. You give Mingyu a reassuring smile, muttering, “We’ll be okay. I’ll see you later.” Before turning to find Jeonghan already stepped out of the vehicle, hand outstretched towards you. You smile and take a hold of it, letting him help you out of the expensive car. He flashes you a grin as you both head inside.

The walls are practically dripping in gold, and you find yourself in a slight trance at the sight of it. While you may have had many missions by this point, your reaction to these types of events has always been the same. You could never get used to the views you’ve seen.

Jeonghan glances over at you, letting a fond smile take over his face as he notices the look of pure awe on your face. Your mouth is slightly open as you let your eyes wander a bit, before remembering what you’re here for, promptly regaining your composure. Jeonghan turns his head to face forward, seeing the security check. You smirk slightly when Jeonghan hands them the fake invitation from his blazer pocket. The guards give the two of you a bow, letting you enter the gala after Jeonghan gets a quick pat down.

“You’re not armed right now?” You ask him in a small voice, eyebrow raised as you look at him. He lets out a sly grin, squeezing your hand.

“I snuck it past him, don't worry sweetheart- Hello!” Jeonghan quickly changes the subject as he greets an older couple. You let out a smile when you lock eyes with the target, letting Jeonghan take you over to their table. The couple smiles at the two of you, and you both bow before continuing to greet them.

“Hello Daehyun, how have you been?” Jeonghan asks the older fellow and he grins, “Business has been a bit slow as of recently, but it should pick up soon. I hired some new runners and I think their looks will persuade the customers to buy more. How about you? How’s business”

Jeonghan and the older couple begin some small talk while you glance around the room. You notice a few brooding looking characters at the table near the dance floor, staring at the female and male waitresses handing out drink assortments to all the guests.

“So, yn. Has Jeonghan here been a lot to handle?” Haeun asks you mid-thought, and you turn to glance at the older lady. Her hair has a few strands of white, but other than a couple wrinkles you wouldn’t be able to tell that she’s reaching the age of 68. You also wouldn’t be able to tell that this couple owns one of the biggest underground drug cartels in South Korea either, but that’s a problem you’ll take care of in a bit.

You giggle before shaking your head no, reciting the fake life you and Jeonghan had to memorize. You both quite literally had flashcards, quizzing each other on these fake identities and quirks you both have. He ended up crashing at your place that night since you both studied until 3 am. Mingyu and Minghao teased you later on about how that was basically a date, it took two weeks for them to quiet down on that matter.

“Would any of you like wine?” A waiter comes up to ask, and you turn your head to look at him. You see Daehyun and Haeun reach out for a glass, but the waiter maintains eye contact with you specifically. You notice something flash through his eyes for a second, and you raise an eyebrow. His lips quirk up in a small smirk, to which Jeonghan shakes his head.

“My wife and I would not be interested in a glass of wine.” Jeonghan answers with a sense of finality, his tone laced with a bit of venom that only someone who’s known him long enough would be able to tell. The waiter lets out a grin, bowing his head before stalking off to the next table. Jeonghan turns to look at you, and you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Yn, would you please accompany me to the bar? That waiter gave me a horrible glass of wine. I quite literally can’t swallow it down.” Haeun requests, and Jeonghan immediately intervenes.

“I’ll accompany you Haeun-” She raises up her hand, cutting Jeonghan off.

“I want to get to know yn. You boys keep talking about… boy stuff and I’m bored. It’s time for a girl chat.” Jeonghan looks at you and you send him a reassuring smile, patting his arm as a way to say, I’m okay.

“Well, alright then.” Jeonghan agrees hesitantly. He grabs your arm before you go, leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Remember what we talked about in the car. If you need me just shoot me a glance, I have a clear view of you from the bar.” He moves back, kissing your cheek and giving you a warm smile.

Your heart stutters in your chest, and it takes a moment for you to smile back at him, remembering that you’re in the middle of a mission right now. However,

he-he just SMOOCHED MY CHEEK.

“You lovebirds are still in that honeymoon phase, huh?” Haeun asks as you both walk towards the bar. You grasp your face since you feel your cheeks getting warmer, and she laughs at your reaction as you both reach the bar.

“I’ll have a glass of Moët & Chandon.” Haeun tells the bartender as she takes a seat on the high chair.

You take the seat beside her and glance over at Jeonghan who is chuckling at something Daehyun said. His eyes lock with yours and he raises an eyebrow at you, to which you simply shrug back in response. He smiles before turning back to Daehyun. You look around a bit more before Haeun gets your attention.

“You know yn, I really love your dress. I remember when I was younger I wore that type of dress except it was a dark purple.”

“That must’ve looked so pretty on you Haeun. Do you have any pictures?” You ask and she sighs, shaking her head no.

“I wish I had some on me, they’re probably somewhere at home if you and Jeonghan would like to visit.” You simply smile as a response, knowing damn well you’d never attempt to go to their house.

“Your Moët & Chandon, and here is your Laurent-Perrier.” He hands Haeun her drink, while also handing you a glass. You raise an eyebrow at the beverage in your hand, “I didn’t order anything?” You tell him confusedly.

“On the house.” He answers with a charming smile, before turning around and walking to the other side of the bar.

“Well, thank you?” You say quietly, voice turning up at the end as if it’s a question. Haeun looks between you and the glass of champagne, before letting out a small chuckle.

“I’m taking that out of his paycheck.” Haeun jokes, and you grin in response. You turn your head to look over to the other end of the bar, finding the man making drinks for another couple.

strange.

“Surprised he didn’t see the ring on your finger though, it’s huge.” Haeun points out, distracting you from through thoughts. You chuckle, and take a glance at your left hand. The diamond glimmers back at you and you smile at it.

if only it were real, you think to yourself as you take a sip of the drink, finding yourself surprised at how light it tastes.

“This is actually really nice, he has good taste.” You say, gesturing over to the bartender, to which Haeun simply flashes you a close-lipped smile. What you are unable to notice as you continue to take sips of the alcohol, is the malicious intent behind the old woman’s smile.

“Where are we going?” You ask groggily.

you really don’t feel good.

“To the restroom dear, I think you need to wash up a bit.” Haeun responds, hand pressed to the small of your back. She guides you to another hallway that you haven’t seen yet, and you find yourself even more confused.

“W-What did you do to me?” You ask, trying to push the old woman away, but you’re so weak that Haeun doesn’t even stumble. She doesn’t respond, continuing to drag your limp body down the hallway.

You enter a room that doesn’t resemble a bathroom at all. The room has dim lighting, there’s only a couch and a drink cart. It doesn't match the rest of the gala at all. You pout when Haeun sets you down on the sofa. She pulls out her phone and you cock your head to the side.

“This isn’t a bathroom.”

Haeun smiles at you, placing her phone back into her pouch. She reaches out and grabs your chin harshly, making you wince slightly.

“You think I wouldn’t know who you are, yn yln? Or should I say, Dahlia?” Your blood runs cold when not only your real name is spoken, but your alias as well. You stare up into her eyes, finding a dark smile on her face. “I can’t believe Jeonghan fell for your deceit. I imagine he’ll be heartbroken when you disappear, but alas. He’s a handsome man, he’ll find someone else.”

Haeun lets go of your chin, and pats your head before turning and preparing to walk out of the room. You stand up after her, but quickly stumble and fall to the floor. Groaning, you lay there for a moment as you try to force yourself to sober up.

“What are you going to do to me?” You slur out, and Haeun simply sends you a cold smile as she begins to close the door.

“You’ll find out.”

You lay on the floor for a few minutes, squeezing your eyes shut and opening them to try and fight whatever is in your system. You let out a groan, wondering how you could be so stupid to accept a drink on a mission. Your internal self hatred ends when the door opens, gaining your attention.

“Well, what a sight this is.” You look up to see one of the guys from the table you glanced at earlier in the night. Your vision turns fuzzy as he helps you up off the ground and places you on the sofa, both of his hands remaining on your shoulders.

“My, my, my. What a pretty thing you are. Tragic that you have to die.” He mutters, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“No.” You whisper, reaching up to move his hand away but he only catches it, pressing a kiss to the back of your wrist. You try and snatch it back but your body won’t let you move as strongly as you’d want.

“Any last words, pretty?” He asks, stroking your cheek. Flinching back in disgust, you finally manage to push his hand away, reaching through the slit of your dress to grab the gun.

“Oh? This is a surprise-”

He’s cut off once you kick him in the crotch with as much strength as you can manage, which isn’t much by the way, and he screeches at the impact of your heel. You stand up, wobbling a bit, before pointing the gun at his head.

“I may h-have gotten drugged. However, I won’t hesitate to shoot you in your goddamn ugly face if you touch me again.” You threaten, tone ice cold as you hit him with the butt of your gun. He immediately falls back, muttering obscenities at you due to the pain in his head. You make your move to escape, taking an abnormally long time to unlock the door. However, once you do, you wobble down the hallway, putting the gun back into its holster.

You know that in your current state, you won’t be able to escape the man if you don’t find Jeonghan. You only have a few minutes to get back to the main gala, but you can only hope that Jeonghan is already trying to find you.

“Jeonghan, please help me.”

Jeonghan is in a state of panic. He looked around for you when he realized you were no longer at the bar, excusing himself from his conversation with the target to search for you. He walks into the middle of the dance floor, pushing past the couples who are dancing. He doesn’t care about the mission anymore, all he wants is to find you.

yn, where did you go?

Jeonghan turns his head to see Haeun laugh with a group of men, feeling his breath hitch when he realizes you’re not with her. His instincts kick in, and he dashes towards the restrooms, opening the door to the women’s bathroom.

“YN! YN!?!” When no response from you comes, he curses, running out and going to another hallway.

You stumble, grabbing your head as you walk with your hand holding the wall. Your head is pounding and you want nothing more than to just lay down on the floor and sleep. You look around, seeing the color gold surrounding your vision and it makes you want to throw up. Groaning, you attempt to walk faster but it feels like you’re in quicksand.

“HEY!” The guy’s voice resonates through the hall, and you feel panic settle in as you try your best to walk faster. You hear the sound of running feet and you reach for your gun, only to hear a second pair of footsteps. You hear a grunt and the sound of two bodies colliding onto the floor. You turn towards the sound, seeing a head of midnight black hair hovering over the guy from earlier.

“Leave her the fuck alone Gwan, she’s mine.” Jeonghan growls, hand wrapped around the other’s throat. The man looks into Jeonghan’s eyes with a mix of fear and hatred, “She’s not yours Jeonghan. You’re not fucking married last I heard-”

Jeonghan lifts up his left hand, the gold of his wedding band shining brightly back at the piece of shit. The man’s eyes widen, and they practically bulge out as Jeonghan's grip on Gwan’s throat tightens.

“That’s my fucking wife. Know your place, Gwan. You know what I’m capable of, I can kill you in a heartbeat. You wouldn’t have the time to blink and your neck would be snapped.” Jeonghan hisses and the man coughs.

“I was just doing what Haeun told me to do.” Gwan wheezes out, and the black haired beauty bites the inside of his cheek. After a moment, Jeonghan lets go and gets off the man. Gwan stands up and sucks in a deep breath, face bright red from the lack of air. Jeonghan points at the man with dark eyes, “You tell Haeun none of this, I’ll handle her later.”

Gwan does nothing but nod, before running down the hallway. Once he turns the corner, Jeonghan turns his head to see you passed out on the floor. His eyes widen and he runs over to you. Kneeling down to check your pulse, a wave of relief washes over him once he feels your heartbeat respond back to him. Jeonghan reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone, sending a text to Mingyu that he found you and needs him to come pick you both up at the west entrance.

“Yn… I’m so sorry.” He whispers to your sleeping form, furrow to his brow as he thinks of how anxious you must’ve felt. He reaches out and softly pats your head, wishing he was paying more attention to you so that this whole ordeal could’ve been avoided.

“Alright yn, I’m gonna have to carry you outta here. I hope that’s okay.” Jeonghan says to your sleeping form, placing an arm under your knees and another arm under your upper body. He lifts you up, and walks towards the west exit.

You open your eyes, only to shut them right away once the pounding migraine registers in your head. You let out a groan, rolling over and grabbing your pillow to cover your face. You sigh,

so comfy. i love my bed it smells so nice-

Pause.

You sit right back up, eyes wide open as you take in your surroundings. You’re in your apartment, but how in the hell did you get here? You do another double take once you realize you’re no longer in your dress, but in your Pikachu pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” You mumble, climbing out of bed to go and grab acetaminophen from your kitchen cabinet to ease your pounding brain. You step out of your room, rubbing the back of your neck as you walk towards the kitchen. Still a bit sleepy, you reach up into the cabinet to grab some medicine, only to halt your movements.

Acetaminophen in hand, you step backwards out of the kitchen and glance over towards your living room, only for your eyes to widen when you see the head of black hair laying on your couch.

“Jeonghan?!” You gasp and he stirs in his sleep, rolling over to lay on his side. You immediately cover your mouth with your hands, as if it would erase the fact that you practically just yelled the man’s name.

“What the fuck happened last night?” You whisper to yourself as you back up into the kitchen once again. You lean against the counter, taking the medicine and drinking water to swallow it down as you try to think about the events that occurred the night before.

You went to the gala with Jeonghan and almost peed your pants because of how handsome he looked. Then the two of you met with the target and Haeun later took you to the bar. You ended up receiving a drink from the bartender for free, and then you vaguely remember holding a gun towards the man’s head?

“Holy shit. Did I get drunk and beat up a man?” You mutter to yourself, tilting your head as you try your best to remember last night’s events. You purse your lips with the knowledge that you’re not a lightweight. “I only remember having one glass though, so how could I have gotten drunk-”

“Your drink was spiked, yn.” You squeak from the sudden deep voice beside you, only to groan from the throbbing getting stronger in your head. Jeonghan gives you a small smile, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

He’s wearing the white t-shirt and gray sweats that Mingyu left at your house from the numerous times he’s fallen asleep on your couch. It’s a bit baggy on Jeonghan since Mingyu is tall, but it suits him so well. How does he manage to look so good in everything?

Wait.

“I was-I was what?” You’re absolutely dumbfounded at his statement.

“Haeun found out who you were. She thought you were tricking me so that you could make an arrest, as no one knows that I’ve joined hands with Cheol. You retired from being an assassin long before me, so Cheol thought no one would remember you. He was wrong.” Jeonghan explains, reaching out and swiping away the dried drool at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Warmth immediately floods your face from the contact, and you glance down at your feet. “Minghao and Joshua took care of it this morning, so they won’t be coming for you anymore.”

You stay quiet for a moment, wondering how it was possible that Haeun could’ve figured out your true identity. In your years of being a secret agent, no one has been able to discover who you were. Even when you were an assassin, you never showed your face or used your real name.

So how did Haeun know?

“Seungcheol is already trying to find out how Haeun knew who you were.” Jeonghan answers, seeming to have read your thoughts due to the worried expression on your face. You bite the inside of your cheek, before turning and walking over to the fridge, seeming to not want to discuss what happened any further. Jeonghan watches as you search your fridge, before you turn your head and hold up the box of Eggo waffles towards the pretty man.

“Want some?” Jeonghan smiles softly before nodding his head, holding up two fingers when you ask him how many he wants. You take out two eggs from the fridge afterwards.

“How do you like your eggs?” You ask and he shrugs, “However you make it is fine with me.”

It feels oddly domestic, all of this. Jeonghan thinks to himself as he sits himself up on the kitchen counter. He watches as you cook the eggs over-medium, quietly humming to yourself as you add salt. He cocks his head to the side when you suddenly freeze, watching as you turn to look at him with a questioning look in your eyes.

“Did you change me out of my dress?” You ask and he chuckles before shaking his head no. He lets out another laugh when he sees you visibly relax, before beginning to explain what happened.

“Seulgi was waiting here, so when we arrived she did all the cleaning up for you. She left afterwards since she had a mission in the morning, but she told me to take care of you once you wake up.” You smile at the thought of your best friend being so caring.

“Love that woman.” You mutter, turning back to the eggs. Jeonghan grins, feeling his heart warm at the sight of your smile.

He steps down from the counter once you put the last egg on the plate and turn off the heat of the stove. You wipe your hands on the towel, only to pause when you find yourself trapped between a pair of rather nice arms. You stare at your hands wrapped in the towel with wide eyes, unsure of whether you want to die or puke.

“C-Come here often?” You ask with a nervous laugh, turning around to face Jeonghan, only to immediately regret it because you just rubbed your nose against his. “You’re quite close.”

“I can tell that you’re bothered by how Haeun knew, but it’ll be okay. Seungcheol and the rest of the guys are on the case, you’ll be fine.” Jeonghan tells you in a soft voice, and you purse your lips, before nodding your head. The black haired beauty stares at you for a moment longer, finding you to be one of the prettiest people he’s ever seen, even if you’re wearing Pikachu pajama bottoms at the moment.

“I care about you a lot.” Jeonghan states after a moment of silence passes between the two of you, and he watches in amusement as your eyes visibly widen at his confession. You open your mouth, only to close it, then open it again, before deciding to just bite the inside of your cheek.

“I know that you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but next time we have a mission, please be more careful, yeah?” You only nod your head as you’re unable to form any words due to the close proximity between the two of you, and Jeonghan smiles softly. He pulls away and grabs his plate, but not before pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead, giggling at how shellshocked you appear from the endearing action.

“Do you like me?” You finally blurt out, and the black haired beauty simply sends you a mischievous grin.

“Perhaps… I wouldn’t just kiss anyone’s forehead, ya now? However, the real question is, do you like me?” Jeonghan asks in return and you bite the inside of your cheek. He tilts his head as he awaits your response, about to lean in close to your face once more when-

DING!

“Oh, the waffles are ready!” You exclaim, shoving Jeonghan out of the way so that you can reach the toaster oven. You take out the four waffles, dusting some powdered sugar over them, while Jeonghan stares at you in disbelief, plate in hand as he does so.

“Did you just shove me?” Jeonghan asks with a laugh, and you give him a smile as an answer, turning away and walking towards your dining table, plate of waffles in hand.

“Okay, but do you like me though?” Jeonghan presses as he follows after you, and sits down in the seat across from you. You quietly take a bite of your waffle, finding too much enjoyment in the fact that Jeonghan is acting like a lovesick puppy.

Oh how the turns have tabled.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He asks once again, and you smile.

“Perhaps.” You respond teasingly, taking another bite of your waffle. He rolls his eyes at you and leans back in his chair.

“If I asked you on a date for this Saturday, would you say yes?”

You visibly halt your movements, making Jeonghan grin at the sight. Your brain is running a million miles a minute. Even though it was confirmed that your longtime crush likes you back, hearing him ask you out on a date makes you want to pass out.

“Yes.” You finally answer after a moment of you screaming internally, and Jeonghan smiles. He nods his head, taking a bite of his waffle as the feeling of warmth floods him.

“It’s a date.” Jeonghan states, cutting out the yolk from his egg and placing it onto your plate, knowing that that’s your favorite part. You hold back a squeal, nodding your head in response.

What Seulgi told you the night before rings in your head as you eat the yolk Jeonghan gave you, and you roll your eyes at the thought of it. You can’t believe the mission was accomplished.

“You know Seulgi, this is a mission to get more information on a drug lord. Don’t you think this is too much?” You ask, gesturing to your whole get up, putting a pause to Seulgi’s rant about Hyoon’s poor makeup decisions. Your friend smirks at you, causing you to raise an eyebrow at her.

“There’s actually two missions, yn.” You squint at her, and she narrows her eyes back at you.

You watch as Seulgi’s eyes brighten when a smile forms on her face, and she raises her arms up in the air. “To seduce Jeonghan so that the two of you will finally go on a date!”

Smiling to yourself, you glance up into Jeonghan’s kind eyes and say,

“It’s a date.”

The bright smile that forms on Jeonghan’s face from your response almost makes all the worries you hold in your heart disappear.

key word: almost.

[80s4life]

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

[kpoppwriter]

The Pleasures of Life | pt. 9

Genre: demon/angel au (Demon!Seungcheol x Angel!reader)

Words: 1.4k+

Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of sexual assault, manipulation, some stockholm syndrome-ish content, blood, violence, swearing/language

A/N: so I spent some time thinking about this part because I had to decide on some world-building type things (that’ll make more sense later) but lol yeah come yell at me about this part later you’ll wanna✌️ 

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | pt.6 | pt.7 | pt.8 | pt.9 | pt.10 | epilogue

You woke up in a cold sweat. You immediately sat up when your eyes opened suddenly. You were disorientated and couldn’t remember where you were. The silk sheets beneath you were soft against your skin. The room was dark. You couldn’t tell what time it was. 

“Y/N?”

In the doorway stood Seungcheol wearing some pajama pants and a t-shirt. The light from the room behind him made the edge of his silhouette glow a warm gold. The faint murmur of a tv echoed into the bedroom. The memory of you running to Seungcheol’s home came back to your mind. You were at his place.   

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine.”

You brought your knees up to your chest and rested your forehead on them. You smoothed your hair back, a long sigh escaping your lips. The bed dipped beside you, a hand coming up to gingerly rub your back. 

“I know you’re not okay,” Seungcheol whispered, “You wouldn’t have come here if you were okay.” 

“I’m scared.”

Your voice was barely audible but it was just loud enough for Seungcheol to hear. His heart hurt seeing you so afraid, so scared for your life. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. 

“I promised I would protect you and I don’t go back on my promises,” he reassured you

“But Joshua-”

“Forget about Joshua. I said I’d keep you safe and I mean it. I won’t let him harm you. I’d have to be dead for him to be able to even come close to you.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” you smiled slightly, gently hitting his chest

Your head rested against Seungcheol’s chest, his warmth comforting you. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as his arms tightened around you. You pulled back slightly so you could get a good look at his face. He always looked at you with such kindness and love. His eyes made you feel at home. His hand cupped your cheek. You smiled as you pushed your face further into his hand.

“Home,” you whispered, “I’m home.”

You weren’t sure what time it was when you woke up. You were so out of it and Seungcheol had this thing about keeping his curtains closed in the bedroom. It really played tricks on your mind. You sat up but your head was pounding, making you dizzy. You slowly stood up once the wave of nausea wore off. You could hear the low murmurs of voices through the closed bedroom door. Hesitantly, you opened the door, unsure of who would be on the other side.   

“All I’m saying is- oh! You’re up.”

You recognized the guys standing in Seungcheol’s kitchen immediately. Mingyu, Woozi, Jun, Minghao, Vernon, and Wonwoo all stared at you and you stared back with a confused expression. Yes, they were Seungcheol’s friends and it would make sense that they were there but the way they looked at you make you feel...pitied.

“I was just telling the guys about your...situation,” Seungcheol said from in the kitchen

“My situation?” 

“We want to help you, Y/N,” Minghao interjected

“Yeah! You’re one of us and we protect our own,” Mingyu stated

“You’re making it seem like I’m in a lot of danger,” you chuckled nervously 

The room was quiet a moment, all eyes shifting away from you.

“Wait, am I actually in a lot of danger?” 

All eyes shifted to Vernon. He looked over at Seungcheol, wordlessly getting approval to share the information he knew. 

“Seungkwan told me this morning that any angel that spots you is to report it to Joshua immediately.”

“So you’re telling me that if anyone sees me, Joshua will zap over and, what...take me away?” you stammered

“Hey,” Seungcheol quickly walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “You know I’m not going to let that happen. We’re coming up with a plan now to keep you safe, okay?”

You let out a long sigh before nodding. Seungcheol’s lips curved up into a small smile, his lips pecking your forehead reassuringly. 

“Now about this plan-”

“Are you sure it’s safe to trust them?” 

“Cheol, you know them. Plus Jeonghan is so against Joshua that he’d kill the others before they had a chance to report back to Joshua.” 

4 months into hiding from Joshua and you were honestly surprised that you hadn’t been caught. Yes, you and Seungcheol ended up having to move a few times but you were still safe. Still with Seungcheol, which was all that really mattered. Finally, after much convincing, you were able to invite Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Jeonghan over. Seungcheol insisted that it was a bad idea but you knew them. You knew they wouldn’t betray you like that. 

A knock rang through your home. You happily walked over to the door but before you could open it, Seungcheol checked the peep hole to make sure it was really them. After you got the okay from him, you opened the door.

“Y/N!” Seokmin exclaimed excitedly “It’s been too long!” 

“I know I know!”

You hugged the boys as they entered your home. Like usual, they were bundles of energy. They just had so much to tell you since it had been forever since they saw you last (an over-exaggeration that Soonyoung and Seokmin frequently repeated throughout the evening). Jeonghan and Seungkwan were more curious about your wellbeing and how you were holding up in hiding. 

“Has he caught up to you yet?” Jeonghan asked

“Not here but it’s only a matter of time,” you sighed, “I haven’t actually run into Joshua though. Just his minions.” 

“Be lucky you haven’t run into him,” Seungkwan warned

The rest of the night was great. You were happy to see your friends again. It made your situation feel just a little bit more normal. Eventually the boys had to leave much to your dismay. You knew they had to get back to their homes, their lives now in danger from being in contact with you. 

After cleaning up your living room and doing the dishes, with Seungcheol’s help of course, you were very tired and ready to go to bed right then. You waddled into the bedroom, flopping on the bed without even changing into pajamas. Seungcheol laughed when he walked into the bedroom after you.

“At least get those clothes off before you pass out,” he chuckled

“Too tired. Must sleep,” you yawned

Seungcheol shook his head as he pulled you up off of the bed to help you change (more like do it for you but he’d never complain about much of a baby you could be when you were tired). After getting into pajamas, you slipped under the covers and fell asleep.

~~~

A loud crash, like glass breaking, rang out throughout your home. You bolted up out of bed startled by the noise. Seungcheol wasn’t in bed with you. You figured he must’ve made the noise and got up to check on him.

“Cheol, are you-”

“Hello Y/N.”

Your words were caught in your throat as you saw the scene unfolding before you. Seungcheol was being restrained by two men with a knife held to his throat. Holding said knife was, of course, Joshua. 

“Don’t hurt him.”

Your voice was stern but clearly wavering, scared of what Joshua would do to Seungcheol. 

“I wouldn’t hurt it,” Joshua smirked, “That’s not why I’m here.”

“You’re here for me,” you interjected, “So take the knife away from his throat.”

Joshua contemplated for a moment before moving the knife from Seungcheol’s throat. Joshua clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“You tainted a perfectly good angel,” he whispered, “How dare you.”

Joshua sliced the side of Seungcheol’s face. You let out a yell as Seungcheol winced in pain. Drops of blood fell onto the floor. Your mind went blank as you watched the red liquid pool at Seungcheol’s feet. 

“Joshua please,” you sobbed, “Stop hurting him. You want me right? You can have me just...just stop hurting him.”

Joshua eyed you like you were prey, his toy to play with. He moved towards you, stopping when he was right in front of you. His fingers played with a stand of your hair. He gingerly smoothed it back into place. You swore he could hear how hard your heart was beating. It was the only thing you could hear. 

“Y/N,” Joshua whispered, “You should’ve just behaved like every other good angel.”

Joshua thrusted the knife into your abdomen full force. Your name rang in your ears, Seungcheol yelling for you when he saw the knife enter your body. You collapsed to the floor clutching at your stomach. Joshua took the blade out of you, your blood now pooling on the floor. You heard Seungcheol. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying anymore but you heard him. He was the last thing you heard as you drifted off into the darkness. 

[hearteyesbowen]

just friends ☆ joshua bassett

you and joshua are just friends and nothing else. promise.

warnings: angsty, some swearing, some steamy writing, at this point assume anything i write may be long

part I , part II

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your eyes flutter open slowly, a bright yellow light blinding you as you wake up. You rub your dry eyes and smooth out your messy hair. The pounding in your head disturbs you as you clear your throat. You attempt to sit up on your bed until an a strong arm left at your hip prevents you from moving up any further. You look to your side and see a familiar hand, so you look back further and saw your best friend, Joshua. His curly brown hair covered more than half of his face, only showing his slightly open mouth. Soft snores escaped his lips as you watched his chest rise up and down slowly. You almost completely forgot you slept over at his house last night.

You laid back down and faced Josh, wanting to stare at his calming features. His arm tightened around your waist and brought you slightly closer. You felt your cheeks heat up. You did your best not to wake him as you moved your arm to snuggle into his warm body more. Your plan failed when you felt him softly shuffle above you and let out a low groan.

“Y/N?” Josh groaned lowly. His morning voice next to your ear gave you goosebumps.

“Josh?” You whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” He said as he removed his arm from your waist to rub his eyes. He moved his arms back to you and brought you back closer to him tightly. “Sorry about that, angel.”

“I’ve been awake for a bit.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“Do I have to do anything today?”

You shook your head to say no.

“Do you want to go to the diner and get breakfast?” He asked sweetly, bringing your head back to look at you. You nodded and he let out a soft chuckle.

Josh arm slid off your waist. He sat up and stretched out his arm above him, letting the blanket covering his body fall off and revealed his toned stomach. You almost forgot that he went to sleep without a shirt on. You also forgot how much Josh likes to work out on his free days. He got up from the bed and went to his dresser. He noticed how you kept watching him grab clothes from his drawer.

“Are you going to keep falling in love with me or are you going to shower? Because if you don’t go now I’m going to take my sweet ass time.” He joked.

You jumped up from his cozy bed and threw the blanket at Josh, covering his body. You did a quick stretch of your body and saw Josh look you up and down. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” You strutted past him and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Yours and Josh’s friendship was odd. You’ve been friends ever since he moved to the house next to you five years ago. It started off as a normal friendship; You two would hang out all the time and even go on road trips once a month. Then about three years ago it shifted. You would always playfully flirt with each other, which confused all your friends and family. But neither of you saw it as flirting. You both somewhat understood what you were doing, but it never fully clicked as to how it actually seemed. Your parents would always tease you about him. You always went out to eat and see movies together, you would pretend to be dating if someone in public was making the other uncomfortable, and cuddling together or sleeping with each other became a norm. Either way, a relationship between you two would never work, you lived totally different lives.

Once Josh got hired to play the part of Ricky Bowen on High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, he definitely needed some help managing all of his time, and basically his life. You would offer to help him any time he needed you, so he made the best choice to hire you as his assistant. It didn’t change your friendship, it’s just that now you know his schedule and have the numbers to his manager and his publicist. This choice, however, sparked more talk between not only your family, but also his fans. If he were to post a picture with you, then his comments immediately flooded with either questions about your relationship or them “shipping” you two.

You never thought of Josh as your boyfriend. When other friends or family would ask you about him and as to whether or not you did like him, you always said no, it’s what you genuinely believed. Although thoughts of you developing feelings for him did cross your mind, you thought it was just a phase and you would get over it. And you did. The idea of ruining your friendship brought you fear, probably more than the idea of being in a relationship, which you absolutely despised.

After you both took a quick shower, you grabbed your keys from your purse and went back to Josh’s room. He was bent over, looking for something in his drawer. He turned around and instantly had a smug smile on his face as he found what he was looking for. He found the sweater he was searching for in his dresser worn on your body. It was his light beige sweatshirt that he would wear when he recorded a lot of his music. Coincidentally, it was the same one he would give you every time he saw you sad or crying, to which you grew a strong fondness for it.

“I don’t get why you like that sweater so much, it’s literally my most plain and boring one.” Josh laughed as he brought you into his side with his hand on your waist.

“I don’t know either.” You lied.

“Whatever, you always make my clothes look way better than me.” He complimented, wrapping his arms around your head and yours around his waist for a tight hug. He pulled away slightly to look down at you, your noses barely touching. “Are you ready to go out?”

➢➣ ➢➣

“Shut up, dickhead!”

Josh slammed his hands on the steering wheel of his car. His loud laugh burned into your ears with embarrassment and discomfort. He slammed his body on the back of his seat and clutched onto the sides of his stomach and the fabric of his sweatshirt. He snorted, trying to catch his breath.

“Y/N, you’re such an amazing girlfriend.” He joked

As to why Josh was now stuck in a fit of laughter was all your fault. While at the diner, Josh received a phone call from his manager, which he of course had to take. You were both waiting on any news about the show as he was promised a special announcement from Disney. He was told to come to set tomorrow to film something, but he didn’t know what yet.

The moment he left, the waitress that escorted you to your seats had come to take your orders. You told her what you wanted, and she asked about Josh, referring to him as your boyfriend. Without even thinking of what she said, you continued to tell her what you knew Josh would have wanted, which led her to believe he actually was your boyfriend. You still had not realized what happened until you were both finishing your food and the waitress came back with the check, mentioning you two as a couple. To not make it seem awkward, Josh played along ( and would not stop teasing you about it for the rest of breakfast ). So here you are now; Josh is still not able to breathe.

You shifted in your seat, “You can take me home now, Joshua.”

He wiped his teary eyes and calmed down from his fit of laughter. “Aww, I’ll stop now. I’m sorry for laughing so much.”

He placed his hand on your lower thigh and gently rubbed it. You eyed him and earned back a sincere smile. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, and placed your hand on top of his to give it a tight squeeze. He brought your hand up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, making you hide your flushed face. Josh noticed and let out a quiet chuckle before starting the car.

“I was writing something a few days ago. I don’t know if I should record it.” Josh spoke, glancing at you.

You sat up straight and excitedly looked at Josh, “Can I hear it?”

“It sucks, Y/N.”

“Please, Josh. Everything you write is so beautiful. You know I love all of your songs, literally all of them.” You squeezed Josh’s hand tighter that stayed on your thigh.

“Maybe when we get home. It’s not a lot, it’s basically four lines, so don’t get your hopes up.” He warned.

“I’ll love it no matter what.” You smiled.

➢➣ ➢➣

You followed Josh to the staircase of his house. He had promised to let you listen to his new song and record it if you “didn’t make a big deal out of it.” You sat two steps above Josh where you knew his phone camera wouldn’t get you in frame. He brought his ukelele out with him too, and he nervously fiddled with the strings.

“Don’t laugh, ok?” He mumbled, trying to sit on the step comfortably.

You shook your head and watched as he let out a deep breath. He scooted up to his phone and went to the camera, and hit the red record button.

“I wish you all the best,

cause lord knows you deserve it.

And it took me time to see,

but I understand,

the best just isn’t me.”

Josh finished playing the final chord and quickly stopped the video. He let out a large exhale and slowly faced you. You were in awe. You were always so greatful when he played his songs in front of you, especially because you were the first one to hear them. He was regularly writing love songs, and each time you thought for a second that he was thinking of you as he wrote it. You always convinced yourself that it was nothing or it was for someone else, but this song felt different.

“So?” He asked nervously.

“Josh,” You gasped out, “that was so beautiful.”

“Don’t lie, it sucked.”

You got up from your step and moved to sit next to him. He set his ukelele in the step above you two and faced his body towards you. You held his hands in yours and he squeezed them tightly.

“It’s an amazing song, Josh. If you put out all those songs you wrote you would understand how much of an amazing songwriter you are. You’re the best musician I know.”

Josh looked up at you and gave you a small smile. He scooted closer to you and held your waist. You stared at him for what seemed like forever. Josh darted between your eyes and your lips. Instinctively, you slowly inched towards him, and you felt him do the same. Your lips were so close that you felt your breath fan over each other. Your mind raced with various thoughts; Just do it, if you never take the chance you will regret it. But if you take that chance and it ruins everything, then you would lose Josh.

A part of you stopped and backed away, Josh following suit. He quickly removed his hands from your waist and you scooted a few inches away from him. You cleared your throat and got up from the stairs. You held your hand out for him to grab and he hesitantly took your offer. He stood taller than you and with your chests almost touching.

“You want to watch a movie?” Josh asked, picking up his instrument.

“Sounds great. I’ll get the snacks.” You offered. You walked down the steps, leaving Josh alone to think about what just happened.

You ran down the remainder of the stairs and tried to reach the kitchen without stumbling, but you nearly ran into one of the bookshelves and almost fell over the couch. Your whole body felt lighter. You reached the kitchen counter and rested against it. Your hands grazed through your hair and roughly massaged it. The headache you felt from the past five minutes overtook you. You don’t like Josh that way, so why did you want to kiss him so badly?

Shaking your headache aside, you opened one of the wooden cabinets above you. You found the large box of popcorn that Josh bought and tried your best to reach for one of the packages. Once you did, you tore off the plastic packaging and harshly threw the bag into the microwave and set the timer. You laid back on the corner of the counter and let out a large sigh.

“Y/N?” You heard Josh’s voice from the living room and his steps that grew louder towards the kitchen. You immediately stood up straight and fixed yourself to look collected. He walked in and abruptly stopped when he saw you agaisnt his counter. You noticed his loss of words, “W-What movie do y-you want to watch”

“Anything, it’s your turn to pick the movie.” You replied.

He started to walk up to you and your breath got hitched in your throat. “Should I make hot chocolate?” He questioned.

You gave him a simple nod, trying not to stare at him for too long. He moved closer to you and you looked up at him. One of his arms gripped the counter to your side. He looked straight at you, his mouth slightly agape. You took in all his features once again.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get the mugs.” He whispered lowly, staring between you and the cabinet above you. You could have sworn he was about to lean in again.

Your head snapped back and you realized how much you overthink his little gestures. “It’s fine, I can get it.” You offered.

You turned around and stood on your toes, trying to reach for your favorite mugs. Why on the top shelf Joshua? Almost out of instinct, Josh held on to your waist to help you keep steady as you lunged for the cups. You let out a quiet gasp in shock. This isn’t new for him to do, stop overthinking. You eventually grabbed them and handed it over to Josh.

“I’ll make it just how you like it.” He smiled.

➢➣ ➢➣

Josh decided that you should finish your High School Musical marathon and watch the final movie. The first 30 minutes of the movie could not have been more dreadful to watch. The tension in the air was thick, and you were both so used to singing the songs together right next to each other. You two were almost on opposite ends of the couch, which although wasn’t too far away from each other, there was still a gap between you. The only thing separating you two was the bowl of popcorn.

Troy and Gabriella met at the rooftop of their high school, he had just asked her to prom. As much as you tried to hold it in to not seem bored, you let out a quick yawn. Josh overheard the little whimper you let out and scooted closer to your direction.

“Do you want to lay down on my shoulder?” Josh asked politely.

“You don’t have to,” You denied.

“I insist, come.” He demanded. He held out an arm for you to snuggle into.

You reluctantly got up and moved the popcorn bowl to the coffee table in front of you and sat down next to Josh. You moved the sweatshirt that he took off from behind the seat and to your lap. You left the smallest bit of space to not seem weird, although, for you, this whole situation was weird. Josh chuckled at your nervousness and scooted in closer to stop the big space. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and you laid on his. It felt as though nothing happened between you two nearly an hour ago.

Troy and Gabriella were in the middle of singing, and you hummed softly to the music. You felt Josh’s stare burn through you, but you tried to hold back from looking at him. You paid as much attention to the movie as you could. The two in the movie were in the middle of the rain, and were staring at each other intently, almost like how you and Josh were a while ago. They slowly leaned in as they were about to kiss until the bell rang, interrupting their moment.

You heard a snort come from Josh, “I swear, they’re always about to kiss every ten minutes and something always stops them at the last minute.”

You giggled, “I know, they should just finish what they were about to start.”

“Yeah, we should.” Josh replied. You turned to look at him instantly, thrown off by his remark.

“What?” You shifted your body to face him, one leg laying on the cushion and tucked under the other leg hanging off the couch.

“You know what I mean, let’s finish what we started. Your words.” He insisted. “Did you ever think we were just friends?” He whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

He altered his position to mirror you, facing your body directly. He rested his hand on your knee and moved closer to exclude any unwanted space between you two, playing with the material of the sweater still on your lap.

“Is this ok?”

“Yes.” You murmered directly.

You studied his eyes for any hint of a joke. Josh did nothing but admire you. His hand crept up to your cheek and the other around your waist. Like the staircase, you both veered towards each other. You felt his soft lips brush ever so slightly on yours, feeling his hot breath again. He drifted away the slightest to look at you, searching for any sign of discomfort or aversion. You gave a minimal nod as to let Josh continue, which was all he needed.

Josh pushed his lips onto yours for a soft and sweet kiss. The hand that wasn’t on his hot chest went to his neck. You kissed back gently. Josh pulled away extremely slow, lingering his lips on yours for however long he could. His eyes slowly fluttered open, showing an almost dreamy daze. His hands fell from your face and waist to your legs.

You stared at each other for the smallest second, before the confidence deeply hidden inside of you struck out. You pulled him back onto you, and Josh waisted no time in eagerly kissing you back. His hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. He swiftly grabbed his sweater that lay on your lap and threw it across the room. You pressed up your chest to his and tilted your head to deepen the kiss further.

Josh went to put his hand on your lower back, pushing his body weight forward. You slowly went down behind you until your back reached the couch softly. He hovered over you, passionately kissing you. You played with the curls on his hair, twirling it around your finger. You felt him bite down on your lower lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue in, feeding into your teenage hormones. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it off. Josh removed your hands and pushed you back down quickly, trailing long and awfully slow kisses from your lips to your neck. You felt him bite under your ear, earning a whimper from you. You could practically feel the smirk playing on his face.

He sat up from on top of you and pulled at his shirt from the collar, removing it completely. He quickly attacked your neck again, leaving deep red marks on your neck down to your collarbone, stopping where his sweater covered the rest of your body. You bit your lip to hold back the noises begging to come out. His lips traced back up to your face, fervently kissing your swollen lips. You tugged at his hair, making him groan into the kiss, and you quickly nudged his face up and to his neck. You were able to leave two big marks under his ear before he wanted to go back to giving you attention.

You heard a vibration coming from Josh’s pants. The buzzing didn’t seem to stop him, as he kept creating new marks all over your neck. You wish you would have ignored it too, but you knew it could have been his manager again about the show. You grabbed Josh’s face and held it up to you, his face confused as to why you stopped him.

“Your phone, Josh.”

“That can wait.” Josh grumbled, desperate for his lips to be back on your body. He was stronger than you, so he easily pushed your hands aside to kiss under your ear again.

“Josh,” You moaned out, pulling his face away from your neck again, “just answer it. I’ll still be here.”

He let out a groan, and kissed your lips tenderly once more. He got out his phone that was almost about to finish ringing, and got up from your position. You sat up as well, fixing your possibly messy hair.

“Olivia?” Josh sounded in shock as he answered the phone. “What do you mean you’re here? With Matt?”

Panic took over you and Josh, and he quickly threw on his shirt. You fixed up the couch, picking up the sweater that Josh threw earlier, and bringing the dishes left on the counter to the sink.

“Yeah, I’ll get the door right now, just give me a second.” He rushed, hanging up immediately.

“Should I leave?” You asked, reaching for your bag that was left on the floor next to the couch.

Josh rapidly grabbed your arm and held it to his chest, “No, no, no, please don’t. I promise it will be quick. You can stay.”

“They’re going to see your neck, and worst of all, mine.” You said in fear.

“Please, Y/N. Stay.” He begged.

You let out a sigh, holding his face in your hands to kiss his cheek, “I’ll be in your room.”

➢➣ ➢➣

Josh had been gone for about 10 minutes, leaving you to hear them scream in joy for something you have yet to find out about. After a while it got quiet, which made you as to wonder if they had left or if they were still talking. Either way, you didn’t want to go down and check.

You took that time alone to really grasp what just happened. Everything moved so fast, and you weren’t prepared to face it. In the moment, you would have thought nothing of it, just pushing aside the reality of the situation and focusing on Josh’s body on yours. Now the guilt has come flooding in, overwhelmingly. You didn’t want to like Josh, it would just over complicate you relationship, as if it weren’t already. You hated the idea of dating, it was never something you were good at. All of your relationships ended with you being cheated on or lied to. You know Josh isn’t like that, but the memories it brings back is like nightmare fuel. And now you almost possibly hooked up with your friend ( and kind of your boss ).

You heard footsteps rushing up closer to Josh’s room, sending nerves to your body. The door swung open, making you jump in fear. Josh saw you lying on his bed, almost like this morning, and he tried to catch his breath.

“What happened, Josh?” You wondered, sitting up on the bed and walking up to him.

“We start shooting for our second season tomorrow!” He yelled out, a large smile built upon his face.

The anxiety somewhat washed away, leaving excitement for your friend. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

Josh brought you back in for a tight embrace, picking you up off the floor. As he set you back down, he moved his head back to look at you. He leaned down again to try and kiss you, but you stopped him.

“I think we should talk about what happened.” Josh pulled away awkwardly, nodding.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sat down on his bed, “Listen, I’m sorry if I took things too far. I honestly don’t know what came over me, it was kind of an ‘in the moment’ type of thing. I’m not usually like that.”

You sat down directly next to him, “I’m not saying I didn’t like it, because I sort of liked it a lot. But I’m more worried about what this means for us. We’ve been just friends for years, so why did today feel different.”

“It’s been feeling different, Y/N. Don’t lie to me and tell me you haven’t felt something change between us.” He argued.

“Josh, I know things have changed, but we can’t do this. We’re friends, and worse, I’m your assistant, too. How could that ever work out?” You whined.

“You being my assistant has changed nothing, absolutely nothing. And ‘only friends’ don’t sleep in the same bed together, or constantly flirt with each other, or make out on one’s couch.”

“What are you saying, Josh?” You asked reluctantly.

“I’m saying that I feel something for you that I know is wrong, but I have to express. Y/N, I like you, and maybe it took me a long time to realize but, fuck, you’re the best thing in my life.” He angrily blurted out. “All those songs I wrote, I always thought of you. I know you don’t like relationships, I know that. I’m so sorry I put you in this position, but please, let me try.”

You felt your eyes water, “This is all moving too fast for me. Josh, we can’t do this.”

“You couldn’t have said that before we made out?” He cried, rubbing his head restlessly.

“That was my fault. But I can’t, Josh. I’m sorry. I really want to say yes, but it’s all too much to handle at once. I’m so sorry.” You choked out, getting up from his bed.

“Y/N,” Josh stood up and grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn around.

“Just give me some time, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You yanked your arm out of Josh’s grasp and walked out the door, leaving Josh alone in his room to think if he ruined his life.

A/N - so this is probably has the most sexual-ish writing i can do without feeling like ive sinned ( ironic ) . i took the inspo of his music from his instagram , just not in the same order (: hope u like this little story , planning on making it a small series , so let me know what u think !! love y’all xx

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Sunday)

Summary | The final day, but at last, not the final goodbye.

Word Count | 3K

Chapter Warnings | Familial fluff, plenty of emotions, explicit smut, breeding kink, cumplay/cum eating, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, breath play, possessive!Joel, lots of feels, but lots of happiness too.

Authors Note | Okay I know I teased DP but it ended up not fitting the vibe, please forgive me. BUT HERE WE ARE. THE LAST PROPER CHAPTER. We still have the epilogue to go, but I can't believe we're kinda wrapping up here. Thank you for all the love you give this series. I know this one is shorter, but I didn't want to drag it out, I hope you think it's a perfect as I think it is. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow@thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Tommy is still snoring softly into your ear when you wake the next morning, but the hand that Joel had kept clutched in his own all night is empty, his side of the bed cool again like it had been a few days ago. You let yourself have a moment wrapped up with Tommy, the warmth of his body almost lulling you back to sleep until you remember your son is here and one of you needs to get up to go and see to him. 

You extricate yourself gently from Tommy, being careful not to wake him. He’s spent the last week being at the beck and call of Joshua, so you decide to let him sleep in a little this morning. You throw on some comfy clothes that have been lying around the room for most of the week before heading down to the room you’d put Joshua down in the previous evening, but the door is open, and the bed is empty. The door to Sarah’s room is also open so you make your way down into the living area, but that’s also empty. 

The door to the back porch is slightly ajar, and when you step out onto it, you can see Sarah and Joel sat on the benches near the fire pit, where you’d been a few evenings before, Joshua sat on Joel’s knee as he bounces him up and down gently. It makes you heart swell and your eyes glass over with tears as you watch Sarah break off a little bit of her toast to put in his hand. One big, happy family. 

“Good morning.” You smile when you reach them, Joshua looking up at you with his hands sticky from the jam that had been on Sarah’s toast. 

“Mama!” He outstretches his arms for you to pick him up from Joel’s knee, which you do, cradling him to your neck in your usual morning hug. 

Sarah shuffles over, making room for you to sit between the two of them, you try not to sit too close to her father, but you can still feel his warmth through your clothes, as he moves his arm to put it on the back of the bench. You wish he’d wrap it around your shoulders as you move Joshua to sit on your lap. 

“You okay this morning, baba?” You ask him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Sarah fed me toast!” 

“You’re a lucky boy, aren’t you?” You chuckle, “She didn’t feed me any toast!” 

You’re still chuckling when Sarah’s hand comes into your periphery with her last slice of toast, holding it in front of you for you to take a bite, you let out a hearty laugh but take a bite none-the-less, because it looks like the toast Joel makes, covered in butter and slathered in fruity jam. 

“Don’t want anyone spreading rumors about me having favourites.” She laughs, taking her toast back for herself. 

Joel leans forward so he can see Sarah around your body, his hand resting on your arm so casually to keep you still while he speaks to her, “What about me?” He asks. 

“You’ve just eaten three slices,” She accuses, “You don’t need anymore.” 

“Rude.” He grumbles next to you, keeping his hand there, like he was just waiting for an excuse to touch you. 

You really want to turn around and kiss him. Tell him that it’s okay, that you’ve sorted everything with Tommy, that his faith in you worked out. You wonder if the time they spent together last night means he knows? Did Tommy say something? Does his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin means he knows he can have you whenever he wants now? Your mind is racing a mile a minute when Tommy joins you. 

He's found a tray somewhere, and it’s got four mugs of steaming coffee on it, plus a box of juice for Joshua. He hands them out, stabs the straw into the box of apple juice for Joshua before he takes his son from you, sitting him on his lap on the bench across from the three of you. 

“I miss you all.” Sarah says softly next to you. 

You turn to her, wrapping your own arm around her shoulder, because she sounds sad. You pull her closer into your side, leaning down to press a kiss to her head like you had done with Joshua. 

“Ah bug, we miss you too,” You say softly, listening as she sniffs, “But you’re doing amazing things, babygirl,” She’s only been gone a few weeks, but you think it must be hard for her, having spent her entire life around three people who would have died for her if necessary, “We’re already so proud of you, but think of what this one,” You nod your head towards Joel, digging your elbow into his side slightly, “Is going to be like when you graduate, when you find the cure for mankind,” She chuckles a bit at this, wiping her eyes, “And you can come home and see us whenever you need to, or we can jump in the car and come to you.” 

You give her one last squeeze into your side before she pulls away with a smile. You make the mental note to make more of an effort to call her and see how she’s doing each week, you’re sure there are things happening that she won’t want to tell Joel. 

Once you’ve all finished your coffee, Tommy is the one to speak, “We should probably think about making a move soon,” He nods to you, “It’s a long drive back with this one.” 

You nod, trying not to think about having to go back to real life, having to go back to work and juggle that with being a mom, but it was inevitable really. You’re always running out of time with this little bubble you’ve created. 

Packing up is easy, you hadn’t unpacked many of the clothes you’d bought, Joel had made sure to keep you naked often, and you pack up the leftover food for Sarah to take back to college with her. She’s particularly excited about having steak for dinner when you pass the pack of meat you hadn’t used last night to her. You wave her off as he drives away, holding on to Joel’s hand as he tries not to cry. It won’t ever get easier for him, watching his little girl drive away, no matter how old she’s going to get, how much she will continue to grow on her adventure, she’s always going to be the girl that begged to ride on his shoulders, begged for pretty much anything and got whatever she wanted.

Tommy heads inside, Joshua on his hip to finish packing everything up, and you press up on your tiptoes to kiss Joel’s cheek, “She’ll be fine.” You say simply with a smile, “And so will you.” 

He wants to say that he knows, but he’s not so sure. His bubble is about to burst, he’ll drive home on his own, to his empty house, and get up tomorrow morning and go about his day as he always has, but with the memory of what it’s like to have you to himself burnt onto his brain. He’s scared. Scared he won’t feel this happy again, but he doesn’t want you to know that, doesn’t want to ask you for more than he already has. So he tells you he knows, kisses your cheek right back, and resigns himself to being lonely once more. 

It takes you ages to get home. You’re tired. Joshua is fast asleep upstairs having slept most of the journey home too. Your home is familiar, warm, but you can’t help the feeling that something is missing. He’s missing. 

“What did he say?” You ask Tommy as he settles onto the couch with you, glass of whiskey in his hand to unwind before you go to bed. 

“Huh?” 

“What did Joel say when you told him I could see him more?” 

Tommy looks at you with a confused look on his face, like you’re talking to him in another language. 

“I thought you would have told him?” 

Your heart sinks. You have a lump in your throat. God fucking damn it. You put your head in your hands. You let that man leave you not realizing he wasn’t saying goodbye until it was the right time of the month again. Not realizing you kept your promise, fixed it all. Not knowing he could be happy. 

“When would I have had the time?” You ask. 

“That’s why I left you outside when Sarah left!” He exclaims in defense, “I thought you’d tell him then.” 

“I didn’t!” You cry, trying not to freak out, “Oh Tommy, he’s going to think the worst.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, trying to ground you, to soothe you, “Why don’t you tell him now?” He offers softly, “He’s only a few streets over.” 

“I’ve been gone so long.” You try and fight, the guilt at being away from this part of your family weighing on you. You've neglected them, you think. You should be here, with them, you think.

“Sugar, we coped a week without you,” Tommy muses, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “We can go one more night,” You look up at him, eyes glassy, because now you realise he truly meant it, that he honestly wants his brother to be happy, and if that means having you then so be it, “Go on,” He nods his head towards the door, “Go get your man.” 

It’s late. Joel is sitting on his couch, TV on low, bottle of beer half-finished on the side table. He should go to bed, he knows he’ll have a long day catch up with work tomorrow, but he can’t switch his brain off. He feels lonely. Sat in his house, alone, after a week of having the love of his life curled up next to him. He almost pulls out his phone, shoots a text to the girl he’s been seeing, but he doesn’t want to fuck, he wants someone to cuddle. Someone to fall asleep next to and hold as she snores into his skin, and she never stays, always catches her breath and leaves as soon as she can because that’s what they agreed. 

He's about to call it a night when his doorbell rings. He panics, mainly because he wonders if it something to do with Sarah, has she hurt herself? Was she in an accident on the way back to college? He knows it isn’t, because she messaged him a few hours ago with a photo of the steak she’d cooked, but he still panics as he walks to the door, expecting to open it and find a police officer standing there ready to tell him something awful, but when he opens the door, it’s you. His pretty girl. The woman he’s spent less than twelve hours away from and is already yearning for. 

He moves to open his mouth, ask what’s wrong, but you launch yourself at him. Jumping onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass to keep you upright as you plant your lips right on his. He doesn’t argue, steps back and kicks his door shut, kissing you right back. You open your mouth against his, and he follows, letting your tongues work together as he carries you to his kitchen, setting you on his countertop. 

“What’s all this for?” He asks quietly against your lips, pressing his back to yours lightly before he lets you answer. 

“He knows,” You speak softly, gripping onto the collar of his flannel, “He’s known all along, how much you love me, how much I love you,” You kiss him again as his heart flutters in his chest, “Says you can have me whenever you want Joel, you can share me, if that’s what you want.” 

He holds your face in his palms, looking into your eyes for any sign this might be a sick joke, but he only finds them filled with love, the same way you’ve looked at him all week, “Is that what you want?” He asks, because he only wants what you want. 

“Yes,” You breathe against his mouth, “I want you, always I want you Joel,” You kiss him again, “Now please, put your fucking mouth on me and tell me you want the same.”

It’s desperate this time, when he kisses you, all teeth and tongue and moans as his hands pop open the button of your jeans. You lift your hips off the counter so he can drag them off you. You whine when he pulls his lips from yours, but he drops to his knees, pulling you as close to the edge of the counter as he can without dragging you off him. You expect him to tease you, to work you up, but what he does this time is use his thumbs to spread the folds of your pussy and sucks your clit right into his mouth. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as he lets your clit go from between his lips, but uses the tip of his tongue to flick at that bundle of nerves. 

You keep your eyes on him as he devours your cunt, how own eyes looking right back up at you, challenging you to come, challenging you to come undone for him. Using the flat of his tongue to give wide licks to you, then swapping to those delicate kitten licks that make your hips buck into his face. He’s proving himself to you, proving to you he’s worthy of this, of having you around more than he’s used to. He will spend the rest of his life on his knees, worshipping at your altar like this if he must. 

“Fuck, Joel,” You groan as he sinks two of his fingers into your pussy, curling them upwards into that spot he knows makes you sing, “Gonna make me come.” 

“You gonna cover me, pretty girl?” He asks, pulling away from your cunt just enough to speak, “Want you to soak me.” 

It’s filth like that which always tips you over the edge, like right now, as you clench around his fingers, his tongue back on your clit as you do exactly what he wanted, those fingers coaxing you to gush around him, soak his face as he groans into your cunt, coaxing out every last drop of your orgasm before he stands, giving you barely any time to compute what’s happening, before his thick cock is sinking right into the depths of you. 

You have no idea whether you’re still coming from before, or whether this sets another one off, as he drags your mouth back to his own, your taste so prevalent on his tongue, but you’re fluttering around his cock, arching into him and crying out his name again. It’s too much, he’s too much, but you don’t want him to ever stop as his hips snap into yours and his hand settles on your throat. 

He uses that hand to push your head up, looking you straight in the eye, “Mine now, aren’t you pretty girl?” He punctuates this with a thrust into you. 

You nod as he squeezes his hand around your throat a little, nibbling at your jaw line, “Yes Joel,” You whimper, “Yours.” 

Because you are. You might be someone else’s as well, but in these four walls, when you’re on your own? You’re just as much his as anyone else’s, and that makes you melt. He’s close, you can feel it, hear it in the way he’s groaning into your skin. 

“Come on Joel,” You coax breathlessly, “Give it to me, come inside me.” 

“Fuck,” He spits out, “Gonna give you a baby, give it to you right now, mama,” You choke out a sob as he speeds up the snapping of his hips into you, “Give you the fuckin’ moon if you asked me.” You don't doubt him, you know he would, you're tempted to ask for it right now, just to see what he does, see what he gives you.

He pushes himself into you so deep you can feel him in your stomach as he comes, biting down on your shoulder, hands gripping your hips as you feel the ropes of his cum fill you up, praying that this, or any of the times before during the week, have planted his baby right inside you. You want to swell with him again, to make something beautiful with him again, and to be able to properly share the joy with him this time. 

He slips out of you, but as is the norm for Joel now, he sinks his fingers into you, stuffing you full of him, giving you as much of him as he possibly can, leaning over to kiss you as he does. He lets you suck his fingers clean, kisses you again, totally unbothered that he can taste himself on your mouth. He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You gotta go?” He asks softly. 

“I’m yours,” You smile, leaning up to peck his lips, “I can stay as long as you want.” 

So you do. You stay all night. Curled up in his bed with him. He wakes you up once in the night, slowly easing himself inside your cunt from behind, body clutched to him, rocking his hips into you so so slowly, coaxing your orgasm out from you like he has all the time in the world, because he does now. He doesn’t need to rush with you anymore, your time won’t run out anymore, because you’re his just as much as you're Tommy's. 

As he clutches you to his chest, his heart full of so much love, with finally somewhere to put it, he thanks the Lord, he thanks you, but most of all he thanks his brother, for loving him this much, for loving him enough to give him his own slice of happiness. Because for the first time in a long time, he truly is happy, whole again, because of his brother, because of you. Because of his pretty girl.  

[babyflossy]

compromise | y.jh

gif credits to owner

pairing: spy!jeonghan x assassin!reader

summary: when a group of young spies interrupts your hit-list, you have to find a happy medium in the outcome, and they won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.

genre: spy/assassin au

warnings: murder, i don’t think there’s any cursing, also unedited

word count: 2152

being a decorated assassin for one of the most trusted organisations was tough work. you often got called out of your plush bed at odd hours, saying goodbye to your cat before heading off to take care of whatever the big man in charge wanted you to. your company trusted you one hundred per cent, having never failed a job, and always exceeding your expectations, you were their prize possession, which is why you were the prime candidate for the biggest job of the year.

it was vastly different from the other jobs you were put on, it wasn't a company order, but a request from an external source, meaning you would get pid big bucks after you took out the list of targets. the list wasn't long, only five unlucky men added to it. you never stayed in the meetings long enough to know much about them, just their names. it made it easier to see them only as a price tag, rather than a human.

as the targets were high profile people, they were all invited to a party for what you guessed were people they worked with. you didn't care to find out. you had planned for weeks for this one night. you had to get them out of the ballroom without been seen, and not so quickly as to cause suspicion. you had opted to choose some pretty heavy sleeping pills to eliminate the worry of them escaping. it also meant you could move them to a secondary location, giving you time to stage the crime and dump the bodies. no one would know what happened to them, and you were perfectly happy with that.

your perfect plan had one major flaw however, you weren't the only one out for those men. you were informed a few days before the party, not giving you time to reformulate your plan. you were told an intel worker at your company had done extensive research on all the guests, and had found a tiny mistake, which led her to discover the secret identities of thirteen men all set to attend. she traced them to their headquarters, and with a bit more digging, she labelled them spies, seeking information from your targets.

you didn't know enough about the targets to know what information would warrant thirteen highly trained spies to chase them for information. it was good you knew about the blip in the plan, because there was no way they could know about you, meaning if you were perhaps a little more careful, you could be in and out before they realised the men were missing.

that was what you told yourself as you prepared yourself for the evening. you liked these jobs every so often, it gave you a chance to dress up in fancy clothes over the all black outfits you usually worked in. you stood in front of your wardrobe in your penthouse apartment. no matter how unethical your job was it paid fantastically. that's what you reminded yourself as you slipped knives into the inside pockets of your luxury dress. you needed to look the part, you told yourself as you donned the gown, looking in the mirror in satisfaction. it was pale gold and shimmer under the light of the setting sun. it matched perfectly with the stilettos and the clutch bag, concealing a handgun.

with one last look at the briefing you were given, you left the safety of your apartment and were greeted by the chauffeur the company had arranged. he would drive around the building and wait at the back, ready to load the bodies and take you to the secondary location. as it wasn't a company job, there was less pressure on the job, as the only important casualty if it went wrong would be your paycheque.

you got to the venue just as the guests were starting to arrive, stepping out of glossy black cars and being led up the red velvet carpet to the ballroom. you were no different, a young man escorting you from the door of your car all the way up to the room where people were talking among themselves. it didn't take long to locate the targets, spotting some of the spies not long after. you saw their three leaders – seungcheol, jihoon and soonyoung – talking quietly among themselves near the bar. soonyoung caught your eye and you smiled flirtatiously, you couldn't give anything away yet.

you started to move to the targets once you had seen all the spies dotted around, you counted thirteen of them, thrice, to make sure you knew where they all were. it seemed they weren't planning to move in anytime soon as they still talked and laughed among themselves, holding drinks they ignored. you had done that too whilst talking to some guests, you guessed it came with the paranoia of the job.

the first target was easy to single out, he was older than you, and you spotted his ring-free finger as you led him out of the ballroom, claiming you wanted some air after making idle conversation for a few moments. no one noticed his absence as he lay unconscious in a spare room, the key hidden in your shoe.

the second and third targets were relatively easy to move away as well. it was still early and you realised the spies were waiting for the end of the night to move in. they were considerably more drunk than the first man and so moved onto your advances eagerly, disregarding the fact they were both married. you felt bad for their wives as they were tied to chairs, also unconscious.

the fourth man was more difficult to distract. he was a hair away from wasted, swaying on his feet and slurring his words together. you sighed, this wasn't going to be easy. you talked to him for as long as you could without drawing attention to yourself. when you had finally made progress and led him down the hall to his fate, one of the spies noticed they could only see one target.

that same spy saw you leave the ballroom with the last target, leading him to his fate. the psy followed you. you would later find out his name was jeonghan and he hid behind his messy blonde hair as he slinked out the ballroom and silently watched as you slid a key out from one of you expensive heels and pushed him into a room. jeonghan caught the door with the tip of his foot and peered through the gap to see the other four men tied up, heads lolling about. his mouth dropped open slightly, how had you managed to get four targets out of a room with thirteen spies, and not be seen?

"who are you?" he couldn't help the words from falling out his mouth and he stepped into the room, letting the door click closed behind him. you turned around with only mild surprise, your hair falling elegantly down your back. you studied his face, recognising him as one of the spies from the profiles you had been given. he was much more attractive in person. he had plump lips and kind eyes, with hair that fell in delicate waves around his face. his eyes were hidden behind thin metal glasses which made him shockingly unthreatening. his voice was soft and you wondered for a second if you and misidentified him.

"why does it matter to you?" you cocked your head to one side, watching as he tapped the arm of his glasses behind his ear twice and you knew he had signalled for help. you sighed and turned around to face him, "you're not getting these men."

he narrowed his eyes at you, "what do you want with them?"

"they all have massive paycheques on their heads," you added a threatening smile to show you wouldn't give up without a fight, "i'm here to claim them."

you heard the steps behind the door and you could almost feel the group lean against the door. someone stepped on a loose floorboard and it creaked. as the door flew open, you flew your hand up, gun outstretched and poised perfectly at jeonghan's head. the spies poured into the room, their guns trained on you, but you knew they wouldn't shoot. they were young, and you knew they hadn't been spies for long, they wouldn't let a team member die for a mission like this. you reached for the other gun on you, pointing it at the closest spy, you think his name was chan. you heard their grips tighten on their weapons, their concentration fixated on you alone. you smirked as you realised you hit a soft spot. you turned your head to face chan, who seemed calm despite the weapon facing him.

it stayed like this for a moment until they realised you wouldn't give up your targets. seungcheol, he seemed to have the most authority over the group, was the first to crack, holding his hands up and lowering his weapon. your eyes didn't leave chan's as you watched from the corner of your eye, "we just want information, no one has to die."

"no one except for them," you swapped your gaze for seungcheol's, gesturing behind you, "i came here for them, not any of you."

he nodded, and soon, everyone else had lowered their guns, so you did as well, dropping the one facing chan first and turning back to jeonghan, shooting him a sly smile as you tucked it into the sparkling belt of your dress. "can we make a compromise?" seungcheol watched you carefully, the way you calculated your chances of getting out with the men, and without a scratch. you seemed think they weren't good enough and he let out the breath he was holding slowly. he was sure they would all be able to take you, but he didn't want to find out. you had managed to get this far without them noticing, and he didn't want to test your fighting skills.

"i suppose," you looked back to the men in question, you supposed you could let two of them go, you thought back to which ones were worth more and took your pick. "you can have those two," you pointed to the ones you didn't want and turned back around to face the spies, "the other three will be dead in the hour."

seungcheol looked between jihoon and soonyoung, and then joshua and jeonghan, a silent agreement passing between the five of them. he nodded and motioned for some of his boys to take the ones mentioned. "when will they wake up?" it was jeonghan, he had walked over whilst the others untied to the men they would take with them.

"maybe two hours, maybe more. you never really know," you watched as you driver entered the room, looking at the spies before looking at you with a questioning gaze. "take those three to the car, take the ropes off, i'll be out in a moment." he nodded and threw one of the bodies over his broad shoulders whilst you watched, impressed.

"you never told me who you were," his voice was quiet as the last spy left the room, leaving the two of you alone. he seemed to have forgotten you had pointed a gun at his face not five minutes ago, you guessed it happened to him almost as often as it happened to you.

"y/n y/l/n," you smiled up at him, "you can call my company if you ever need help, ask for their prize possession, they'll know who you want." you grinned slightly, waiting for the day they requested your help, it never took long. jeonghan chuckled slightly, looking back to the door where his team members had left through.

"maybe i'll see you 'round? hopefully it won't be when you're pointing a gun at me, though," he smirked down at you and you felt dizzy under the weight of his gaze.

"maybe you will, yoon jeonghan," you turned around and headed for the opposite door to his, your heels tapping softly on the floor before you heard him speak up.

"how do you know my nam–"

the next day, the group of spies saw the brutal crimes on the news. you had slit their throats and left green cloth over their faces, the media and the police working tirelessly to figure out the meaning behind the specific folding technique of them. they said the only suspects were local gangs, no evidence or dna was found at the scene and the spies watched in awe as the police was interviewed, saying all the security cameras within a three block radius had been turned off at 1:23 am, and they were appealing for any information the public would have.

they were left with more questions about the girl they met, and jeonghan replayed what you said to him in his head. you probably knew a lot more about them than you let on, after all.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.17: “Game Night”

Let the countdown begin, my friends. We only get to do this 24 more times.

THEN: Oh, god, Nick. SO MUCH NICK. It’s not gonna be good. (In fact, I turned to The Husband and warned him it wasn’t going to be a good one. I also pointed out that usually, when he watches with me, it turns out to not be a good one. Case in point: episodes The Husband has watched this season in their entirety include Unhuman Nature. Episodes he has missed include Mint Condition. He may not be allowed to ever watch with me again.) And also Jack and his soul, or lack thereof, but mostly Nick.

NOW: Donatello! He’s baking cookies while singing “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.” (And as I posted earlier, this song is from “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” and if that’s the kind of ending you want for the show, you may find that encouraging. I don’t and I don’t.)

Someone rings the doorbell, impatiently, and we see that Donatello still hasn’t regained his ability to discern good and evil, because he answers the door to some unseen person and the next thing he knows, he’s tied to a table and getting injected with something in an old-timey, completely metal (i.e., opaque) syringe. And screaming. Crap. Those cookies are gonna burn.

Title card!

Bunker. Dean is playing… what is this game called… Mousetrap? Yeah, I think it’s Mousetrap. It’s one of those games that you never actually played according to the rules, you just played with the fun pieces (hello, Operation). Jack’s in the kitchen, being questioned by Mary about his popcorn-popping, when we hear “son of a bitch!” from the other room. And I know some of you are not fans of the gendered insult, but regardless, I’m just glad they dropped that "son of a B” and “rhymes with itch” nonsense. Dean Winchester wouldn’t talk that way. Jack feels game night might not be as relaxing for Dean as intended (what happened to movie night?), but Mary says it was his favorite game as a child (THIRTY SIX YEARS AGO, YOU MEAN?) and okay, who would know about making Dean happy better than Mary? I mean, she caught on to his farewell tour, right? Oh, no, wait, she totally didn’t. Hmmm. Maybe you don’t know him at all.

A little foreshadowing for a trap that will come up later? A metaphor for Dean’s life? Discuss.

Anyway. She asks if Jack is feeling better, and he’s frustrated that people keep asking him that, and she’s all, we’re family. That’s what family does. Pretends they know you. He’s not better. He’s annoyed. As he walks away, she offers to listen to him talk or vent if he’s so inclined, and we watch him very deliberately paste on a smile before he turns back to her and says “you’re here, I know” and he pretends to appreciate her offer and oh, no, Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack. Mary turns away and seems to be thinking pretty much the same thing. But maybe it’s not that Jack is going down a dark road. Maybe it’s just that he’s annoyed with Mary. Because that’s ABSOLUTELY BELIEVABLE.

Game night will begin as soon as Sam gets back with the pizza. Jack expresses interest in the pineapple pizza, proving that he’s at least got some decency left in him. Dean considers it a crime against humanity. (Sidebar: I love Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza, but my mom likes pineapple on her pepperoni pizza, and THAT, my friends, is criminal.)

Mary brings Dean his phone and tells him he missed a call. Dean, you’ve always got at least a dozen pockets on or about your person at any time; there is no excuse for not having your phone.

The message is from Donatello and it’s obviously very disturbing. He puts it on speaker and plays it for Mary and Jack. Donatello begs Dean and Sam for help, and then starts speaking in a language that is not English. And what I want very much is for Sam to listen to this message and recognize it as Enochian and translate it, because OF COURSE SAM SPEAKS ENOCHIAN. But I’m sure we’re not going to get that.

Dean calls Sam and gets his voicemail message, which simply says “you’ve reached Sam Winchester, if this is an emergency, call my brother.” I’m guessing this is the friends-and-family-and-trusted-hunters number, since he doesn’t even give Dean’s number. If you have this number, you have Dean’s number. I like that theory a lot. But why isn’t Sam answering? Has something befallen him? Dean’s not concerned, so I guess I don’t need to be either. He complains that the whole town is a dead zone. (I guess Sam’s supernatural ability to access wifi anywhere doesn’t extend to LTE) and decides they can’t wait for Sam. Oh, good, they’re splitting the brothers up again! Yay! I love it when that happens.

Ahem.

Dean leaves Jack with his phone, so Sam can hear the voicemail and then call him back on his spare. I wonder if Dean’s spare phone is his FBI phone, and if so, does his outgoing message say “you’ve reached Agent Mumbledymumble, if this is an emergency, call my partner?” I hope so. (Cas’s says the same thing, except it says “call my partner, who is tall and has beautiful hair.”)

We cut to a little restaurant and Cas and Anael, and I’m going to recap all of that now and get it out of the way. (Feel free to skip. I feel like skipping, but I’m going to recap it anyway, because that’s just how dedicated I am.) He gives Anael a pair of earrings (16th century Burmese blood rubies, 5 carat, according to Anael) which are only lightly cursed, as a bribe. He wants to contact God. “Good luck with that,” she laughs. But he knows she used to be Joshua’s right hand, and God spoke to Joshua, and maybe she knows how he did it. He wants God to restore Jack’s soul.

He says, again, that he doesn’t know how much of his soul is left, and the last time I complained about Cas’s sudden inability to check that for himself, many of you pointed out that there could be very good reasons for this. Maybe it’s different with a nephilim. Maybe it’s too dangerous. And all of that would be fine, it really would, if the SHOW would give it to us. If Dean would have said “can’t you check, like you did with Sam?” and Cas had replied “it would be too risky, Jack is a nephilim, not a human, and it could be like unleashing a nuclear weapon.” But instead, we’re just getting details about earrings. (Also, I’m saddened to learn that Joshua didn’t survive. I liked him. The original Joshua, not the crappy AU version.)

Moving on. She figures the Winchesters don’t know what he’s up to, and says she can’t help, because Joshua never initiated contact with God. He just received. Cas takes the earrings back and she suddenly gets a little more helpful. There was a rumor, after the fall, that Joshua called God and got an answer. She doesn’t know how he did it, but she knows someone who does. They pull up (in yet another Cas vehicle, a huge pickup that I don’t think we’ve seen before, or maybe we have, all I know is Sam still doesn’t have his own gd car) at some kind of junk/antique store. The guy running the place is Methuselah, one of the few surviving angels. He says he and Joshua were roommates after the fall, and “the guy made a mean lasagna.” I wonder why it didn’t taste like molecules. Cas threatens to burn the place down, with Methuselah in it, and Methuselah calls him “kiddo” (hee!) and says he doesn’t care. I don’t know why another angel would be threatened by Cas, but when Cas calls his bluff and gives him the glowy eyes, he says the “thingamajig” Joshua used to contact God is around somewhere, and they’ll know it when they see it. Or not.

They poke around, and I had something to say about Anael’s “mulberry silk” but I’ve lost the will to write it out, and they find nothing. Anael doesn’t think it matters, because she knows God won’t answer and doesn’t care, because according to Joshua he “doesn’t meddle.” Which Cas disputes, because God brought him back. (And put the Winchesters on a plane over Ilchester, but I digress.) As far as Anael is concerned, that’s even worse - he lets millions of humans die screaming, but saves one angel. Huh. She also knows the real reason Cas is doing this is because he knows Jack has no soul at all, and he doesn’t want to have to tell Sam and Dean. Also, she stepped in a dead rat and she’s done. But on their way out, Cas notices something on a jewelry rack - a pendant that looks similar to the Samulet.

Actually, it looks like an evil version of the Samulet. I mean, it’s a freaking SKULL.

Methuselah says Joshua forged it “before he fell,” and I wonder why it didn’t occur to him that this could be the item Cas was looking for. Or he did know and was just being a dick. Cas clutches the amulet and tries to call on God, invoking the names of Sam and Dean, but he gets no answer. “It never worked for Joshua either,” says Methuselah, and again, why didn’t he admit he knew exactly what the thing was, and that it didn’t work? Outside the shop, Cas tells Anael he’s going to go home and tell Sam and Dean the truth, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do after that. He tells her she was wrong when she said everyone is alone (which I think I skipped in my recap but WHATEVER), because they all have each other. Well, you have Sam and Dean and Jack, so it seems a little unfair to rub that in Anael’s face, but go on then.

So let’s go now to Sam, who is back at the bunker (wearing an orange plaid shirt that would probably go nicely with that orange jacket of his, if I liked that monstrosity) and telling Dean exactly what I said, which is that he should be with him. Oh, Sam. You and I have so much in common.

Dean blows off Sam’s concern and asks about Donatello’s message. Sam tells him it’s not Enochian (OH HAPPY DAY) and he thinks it’s ancient Hebrew, but they’re still working on the translation. He tells Dean to watch his back. We stay with Dean and Mary in the Impala, driving through the perpetually-rainy darkness. (The Husband points out that we should be able to hear the windshield wipers. I really don’t think he’s going to be allowed to watch with me any more.) Dean says Sam (Sammy!) sounds stressed, and Mary says Jack and Dean are stressed too, and she wishes… well, we don’t know what she wishes, but Dean cuts her off and says “you’re here,” like that’s an accomplishment. She wishes she could have been here more. I don’t know, Mary. For a woman who was dead for more than 30 years, you’ve been here plenty. She admits that she can be closed-off and hard, and Dean says “that’s where I get it from,” as if John Winchester had none of those qualities. But okay. Mary wants Dean to know that she’s grateful for every day she has with him and Sam. And on first watch, I assumed this was just some leftover emotion from “Lebanon.” Because I’m always talking about foreshadowing but I miss it when it actually happens, don’t I?

Bunker. Sam is still listening to the voicemail and consulting his English-to-ancient-Hebrew dictionary (and rubbing the back of his neck which is SO DAMN CUTE AND I CANNOT EXPLAIN WHY) when he suddenly recognizes that Donatello is quoting the Bible. And of course he knows exactly where, chapter and verse, because he’s Sam Winchester. It translates as Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking who he may devour. WELL. If that doesn’t send chills down a Winchester’s spine.

Dean and Mary get to Donatellotown (sorry, Donny, I do not remember where you live), where there’s snow on the ground. When they enter the house, they can hear the prophet calling for help. But it turns out it’s just a recording on a phone, with no Donatello in sight. And who walks out of the kitchen but Nick, wearing Donatello’s apron. Well, at least he saved the cookies. Dean cuffs him and Mary goes to search the rest of the house.

“So it’s just you?” Nick asks. “Sammy’s home sick?” And on first watch this is just Nick being Nick. But on rewatch… maybe not. It’s interesting that Dean (and I guess all of the extended TFW) had no idea he’d escaped from prison. Mary finds no Donatello, but she did find Nick’s discarded syringe in the trash. He tells them he injected Donatello with thalium, which will cause his organs to shut down in a day. Just to get their attention. He tells Dean to hit the livestream button on the not-really-Donatello phone, and it shows a video of Donatello, tied up and gagged, sitting on a concrete floor somewhere. “You can save him if you can find him.” Dean pulls a gun on him, but Nick’s not afraid of being killed, because 1) that means Donatello would die, so he knows Dean won’t do it, and b) he has nothing to live for anyway. He wants to talk.

Bunker. Nick is still handcuffed, being led down the hall by Dean in slow motion. Sam and Jack are coming from the other direction. Sam looks anxious, so I assume he knows who’s coming, and when he lays eyes on Nick he <i>snarls</i> and grabs him and throws him against the wall and I’m not a fan of the weird slo-mo thing they’re doing here but otherwise? Angry Sam assaulting Nick? I am HERE FOR THAT. Dean pulls him off and says “not now, not yet,” which sounds like he is perfectly fine with Nick being assaulted but now is not the time. Sam makes a frustrated face and stomps off, and Mary and Jack look upset.

(All gifs were stolen from @itsokaysammy and I apologize for not inserting them the usual way, with the automatic credit, but Tumblr wouldn’t cooperate.)

Dean having to get all handsy, holding Sam back? I am here for THAT as well.

War room. Sam wonders what kind of game Nick was playing, just sitting there waiting for Dean. And he doesn’t even know Donatello. “Lucifer did,” Dean points out, and we could spend some time wondering how much bleed there was between Lucifer and his vessel, how much Nick saw, how much of Lucifer’s thoughts he was exposed to, how much he absorbed. We might want to do that later. But right now, Mary reminds us that Donatello is in danger, and Smart!Sam knows the antidote for thallium is something they already have on hand, Prussian blue, which sounds like a breed of cat but really is the antidote for thallium poisoning. And I suppose Sam could have looked it up on Wikipedia earlier, just like I did, but I choose to believe he just knew. He also thinks he might be able to hack the location of the live feed, but he doesn’t know if they have enough time, and if I were so inclined, I’d comment about Sam’s intermittent hacking abilities, where he’s a hacking genius one day, and the next day Charlie needs to look smart so he needs Charlie to tell him how to hack into a bank. But I’m not going to comment on any of Sam’s intermittent abilities right now. Maybe later.

Well, Nick wanted to talk, so Dean thinks it’s time to talk. “Oh yeah, let’s talk,” Sam says enthusiastically, and I think he means talk with his fists. And for the second time in this episode, Dean lays a hand on him and stops him from going after Nick and once again, I’m here for it. So much. Angry vengeful Sam is really doing it for me. “The way you are right now,” he says, “if Nick looks at you wrong, you’re gonna waste him. That can’t happen.” Which doesn’t really sound like Sam, but yeah, he has been pushed to the edge, so okay. Sam once again accepts the promise that he can get to Nick “later,” and Mary once again looks concerned.

After Dean leaves, Sam tells Mary that he’s the reason Donatello is in this and a police offer is dead. “I’m the one who let Nick go, I’m the one…” and he can’t even finish, he just looks up in frustration and despair with tears in his eyes. “What was I thinking?” (Sidebar: Did Sam really “let Nick go?” Nick actually left the bunker while Cas was “babysitting” him at Sam’s request. Discuss.) Mary tries to get him not to blame himself, saying he couldn’t have known, and he says “that’s not an excuse.” OH SAM. “You gave him a chance because you felt for him,” she says. “Because you’re a good man.” (What do we think about this? Do we think that’s the only, or even the main reason Sam felt sorry for Nick? Or was it because he was also Lucifer’s vessel? Are we supposed to believe Mary actually knows his motivation, or is this yet another example of her Not Getting what’s going on in her sons’ heads? Or is it just bad writing?) Sam obviously doesn’t believe he’s a good man, and she repeats “You are; it’s one of the reasons I’m so proud of you.” Aw Sammy. Closure with Dad, approval from Mom. Kind of a parallel, isn’t it?

The way Sam keeps looking up, in an apparent attempt to not cry, is simultaneously killing me and giving me life.

Cut to Dean punching Nick in the dungeon. Ah, Grand Inquisitor Dean. Always a favorite. Nick says he and Dean are almost like brothers because of the Michael and Lucifer thing. “You’re not the same after something like that, are you? Being one, with one of them. Changes you. Makes you more than human.” Huh. This reminds me of that one guy in season 7 who wanted his possessing demon back. Anyway, Nick wants to see “my son.”

His son? I say. “His son?” Mary says. Is Nick actually Lucifer? Are we going there? Dean is totally against it. Jack asks Sam, because AS WE ALL KNOW, Sam is Jack’s primary dad. Dean is angry that Sam’s not immediately against it, but as Sam points out, Nick is locked down and not a threat (“he’s always a threat,” Mary says, and for once I agree with her), and they’re running out of time. I don’t really like the juxtaposition of these scenes. Moments ago, Sam blamed himself for everything Nick has done and castigated himself for being stupid enough to “let him go.” And now he’s all, he’s not a threat. If I were writing this, Sam would have said yes, it’s risky and I’m not happy about it, but I don’t think we have any other way to save Donatello. And Jack would have gone in with a phone in his pocket on speaker so Sam could hear everything that happened. But I didn’t write this. So.

Jack walks into the dungeon and demands to know where Donatello is. Nick is impressed by his spunk and says it comes from his father.

My father was a monster

Everybody’s a monster. Even your three dads. How many innocent people you think they’ve killed?

Okay, we know I love any reference to Jack’s three dads, so thank you for that, Nick. And also, yes, he’s right. They’ve killed a lot of innocent people. Lots of not-so-innocent people too, but yeah, there’s a lot of collateral damage out there.

Nick also tells Jack “He loved you. You know that? He did. I felt it. He loved you so much, and you broke his heart.” And we knew Lucifer said he loved Jack, but it’s interesting to get confirmation that he truly did. As well as confirmation that Nick felt all of Lucifer’s emotions. Nick then clarifies that he was talking about “the old you, the you with a soul,” because he heard all of that from Donatello. Oh, for a minute there, I thought Nick could detect souls. Jack says he has a soul but Nick eggs him on and then Jack gets in his face and I guess has a sudden angry outburst of nosebleed? It’s hard to tell what’s going on. But Jack’s blood is all over his face, and his shirt, and Nick’s shirt. Hope that washes out. Oh, don’t need it, he takes care of all of it with his glowy-eyed power. Nick is afraid of him now. Unless he’s lying. But why would Nick lie?

Jack steps out of the dungeon and tells his assembled fathers and grandmother that Nick will tell them where Donatello is. Sam wraps his arms around himself uncomfortably. Next we see the brothers and Nick in the Impala, driving through the night. Sidebar: Donatello’s hometown of Lewis (yeah, I looked it up) doesn’t exist, according to Mapquest, but elsewhere on the Internets one can learn that it’s a “township” near Tushka, Oklahoma, which is almost an 8 hour drive from Lebanon. I wonder where Lucifer stashed him? In Lewis, or closer to Lebanon? Not that it matters. Carrying on.

When the guys get to Nick’s hidey hole, it’s daylight and it’s snowing. Dean and Sam both threaten that Sam will shoot Nick if he does anything, Sam hands Dean the antidote, and Dean goes off on his own. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Meanwhile, in the bunker, Jack sees Mary going through the pile of stuff she carried back from Donatello’s house for some reason, and recognizes that the hypodermic syringe held angel grace. Wait. Grace? Not thallium? Nick lied? Color me shocked.

Sam’s sitting in the Impala with Nick, who is doing his best to be as annoying as Lucifer, and poor Sam looks like he wants to shoot either Nick or himself. He gets a call from Mary, and while he gets out of the car to talk to her, we see Nick has produced a something from somewhere and is picking at his handcuffs. Sam yanks the car door open, waves his gun at Nick, and orders him out of the car, because he knows that will make for a more dramatic and attractive confrontation. (Hey, I’m not complaining, I’m just pointing it out.) He tells Nick he knows about the grace and asks him why. Nick explains that prophets are like “old CB radios,” and Sam knows that means he was trying to communicate with someone, and who could THAT be? Because Lucifer is dead, right? Well, yeah, if dead means awake, in the empty, and able to tell Nick how to bring him back using Jack’s blood. “Come on, Sam,“ Nick says. "Nobody stays dead any more. You know that.” Well, obviously Nick has been watching our show!

Nick reveals that demons have been hiding him, and obtained the angel grace for him, because they’re as anxious to have Lucifer back as he is. It’s your own fault, Sam. You denied them a leader. What did you expect them to do? Sam’s standing there, holding a gun on Nick, and I’m going “shoot him, shoot him, dammit” and then Nick’s handcuffs fall to the ground so Sam shoots him in the head. Oh no, he doesn’t. He yells for Dean, who is in the warehouse, many yards away.(And it’s not even a Bucklemming episode.) They start punching each other, so I guess Sam drops his gun? He does end up pinning Nick, with his hands around his throat, so it looks like Sammy’s gonna win this one. But he stops before Nick even loses consciousness (SAM! HAVE YOU STILL LEARNED NOTHING FROM THE WHOLE THING WITH JAKE?), because Sam is extremely skilled and efficient at hand-to-hand combat, except when he’s mysteriously NOT.

This gives Nick the opportunity to reach for a rock and bash his head in. Sam is dazed, and Nick throws him against the car (and we know hitting a hard object with your back and shoulders knocks you unconscious, we’ve seen it many times) and taunts him. “Lucifer’s perfect vessel. You aren’t so perfect now, are you?” Oooooooh, wait. Is Nick jealous? Jealous of Sam being the perfect vessel? Has Nick been feeling Lucifer’s thoughts about Sam for all these years, feeling how much he preferred his perfect vessel, and gnashing his jealous little teeth? And if so, why couldn’t we have had 17 episodes of that? Why is this delightful tidbit just coming to light NOW?

Dazed Sam manages to get in the car and lock the doors, and as Nick pounds on the window, he frantically honks the horn. Now, some folks on Tumblr think he was trying to warn Dean, but I think he’s calling for help. Desperately, frantically calling for help.

As this is happening, Dean enters the warehouse (an abandoned warehouse? imagine that!), oblivious to a couple of shadowy figures watching him. He sees Donatello, and then hears Sam call him, but is attacked by demons just as that happens. He does, finally, conquer his demons by way of the angel blade. Donatello manages to free himself during the melee, and they run outside. Nick is gone and Sam has managed to get out of the car, but not to stand up. Dean runs up to him and there’s some panicky “Sammy!” and looking around as if there’s someone or something there to help, and Sam broken and bloody on the ground, just the way I like it.

Hi, my name is Caranfindel and I have a problem.

As Nick yanks a guy out of his truck and makes his getaway, Dean calls Mary and tells her what happened. “He hurt Sam, he got him in the head. I don’t even wanna move him. We called an ambulance but they said twenty minutes. It’s not good, Mom, it’s really bad.” I didn’t even get that this was supposed to be a serious head injury until this point. I mean, obviously it would be serious in real life, but in Supernatural life, Sam gets knocked unconscious on a regular basis and suffers no ill effects, and I thought this was just going to be another one of those.

Nick breaks into a cabin and sets up his little Lucifer spell. (It’s a good thing - or a bad thing - that this abandoned cabin had an ample supply of salt, and apparently everything else Nick needs besides Jack’s blood.) When he lights a fire, Jack reacts in the bunker, saying it feels like his blood is burning. And he can feel him. He can get to him. He says he needs to use his powers, and Mary says “do it,” and I had forgotten that he promised not to use them without permission. Nick chants the spell and Lucifer appears, and for once, the effect is actually pretty cool and not cheesy. He’s a swirling black snake-like mass, lit from within. He’s still got that Terminator face, but it’s mostly hidden by the rest of it, so that’s good.

“I’m here, I’m ready,” says Nick. “Your vessel, your perfect vessel. Make me strong again. Make me you.” Perfect vessel? I don’t THINK so, Nick. Not in your wildest dreams. (And I appreciate another reference to Nick wanting what Sam has.) Lucifer reaches for him, but just before he can touch him, Jack and Mary show up and Jack zaps him out of existence. So, Jack gets to kill Michael and Lucifer? Seems unfair. Jack mutilates Nick’s outreached hand and then sets him on fire, with Mary yelling at him to stop. So, it looks like Nick’s dead, but I’ve been fooled before. And that makes it three for Jack and zero for Sam. If you’re keeping track.

Over at Nick’s hidey hole warehouse, Dean is in full-on “it’s not even that bad” mode. He holds a bandanna against Sam’s cracked-open head and tries t get him to count with him, but he only gets to two before Sam decides it’s time to say goodbye. “You always put me first,” he says, between raspy breaths. “Your whole life.” (I had to resort to closed-captioning to understand that last bit.) And then he goes limp and Dean gets even more panicky and face-patty.

This is not fair, Sammy. You just died on me last season.

Back at Nick’s cabin, Mary tells Jack to go help Sam. He zaps over to the Impala and is horrified to see his favorite (I know it, you know it) father dying. He puts a hand on Sam’s face and heals him, and as Sam gasps back to life, Dean quickly helps him to his feet and then even more quickly turns away and puts a hand to his face because he can’t do this, he can’t let anyone see how emotional he is, he needs a second to compose himself, he’s going to burst out sobbing or screaming or something and he just has to turn away and godDAMN this is such a good acting choice on Jensen’s part. I love it. We need to watch it some more.

And more and more.

Sam asks about Nick and Mary and Jack tells them he stopped Nick, and Mary is fine. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Narrator: Everything was NOT going to be fine.

Back at the cabin, Mary’s quietly freaking out. Jack zaps back and tells her he healed Sam and everything’s okay (ha ha no), but she’s obviously not happy. Apparently her concern isn’t that Jack killed Nick, but that he did it “like that.” Oh, come on, Mary. Get off your high horse. You seemed to enjoy a bit of “interrogation” back in the day with the BMoL. This isn’t that different. Jack begs her to tell him he did okay, but she refuses. “It’s not your fault, but the Jack I know would never have done that.” Well, I have to disagree, but I can’t think of any real evidence right now.

“If Sam and Dean saw what you did,” she says, “they would be as worried as I am.” Hi, Mary, have you met your son Dean, the Grand Inquisitor from earlier in the episode? Or your other son Sam, the sweet kind gentle giant who was ready to beat Nick to a pulp? Dean had to physically restrain him from pummeling Nick TWICE, and only managed it by promising he could have him “later.” But anyway. She promises they’ll help Jack, because they’re family, but he yells at her to leave him alone and grabs his head and she can NOT take a hint and finally his eyes glow gold and he says “LEAVE ME ALONE” one more time and boom. The screen goes black and we hear “…Mary?”

(Me, to The Husband: “Mary’s gone? Well, I guess this was a good episode after all!”)

Well, that explains why we’ve had so much Mary-and-sons bonding and mutual appreciation in this episode. I mean, it didn’t make me care any more about her being gone, but, okay. And there were a lot of things I could have done without. The guys being separated. Cas’s endless B-plot. Sam not shooting Nick, and losing a fight he really should have won. But these things brought me hurt/dying Sam and frantic Dean, so I accept them. And I’m disappointed that Sam never got his “later” with Nick, and once again he didn’t get to kill Lucifer, but at least SOMEBODY did, and you’ve gotta love that. And we got angry-vengeful Sam and trying-not-to-cry Sam and Grand Inquisitor Dean, so. That makes up for a lot of nonsense.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

[mayhemproduces]

Joshua Bishop (c) vs Derek Dillinger - MPW Atlas Championship

Just two weeks ago, these two men engaged in a brutal, hyperviolent no-rope barbed wire match at AIW Absolution 15 for the AIW Absolute and Intense Titles. Joshua Bishop left victorious that night, and now it was Bishop putting his Atlas Championship on the line against Dillinger here in their rematch. These two men tried to permanently maim each other the first time, and now, on a bigger stage, with a wider variety of weapons, just what the hell were Dillinger and Bishop going to do to one another?! 

Suddenly, before Tom Dunn can even ring the bell, Ziggy pulls a chair from ringside and tosses it into the ring to Derek. Referee Tom Dunn looks slightly miffed, but he knew this one was destined to turn into this the second he got the assignment. Bishop looked to Wes Barkley who tossed him a chair as well, and now both competitors were circling one another, chairs in hand. This one was about to break down. The two men charged one another, swinging their chairs, the impact from Bishop’s chair knocking Derek’s right out of his hand! Derek then tried to pick his chair back up and throw his chair at Bishop, who swung his own chair, deflecting it out of the way! Now Derek was left without a chair, and he simply sighed to himself before receiving what he knew was coming- Bishop whips his chair at Derek’s head! 

Derek is dazed against the ropes, and Wes throws Bishop another chair, as Bishop hits the ropes and charges Derek, chair in hand, before knocking Derek over the ropes with a chair shot! Derek took a hard tumble out to the floor as Ziggy ran to check on him, and Bishop set the chair up near the ropes, before Wes tossed him another chair. Derek got back to his feet, and Ziggy only had just enough time to move out of the way as Bishop threw another chair at Derek, catching Derek right on the head again! The last two shots must have caught Derek bad, because Derek Dillinger was already leaking a significant amount of blood from his forehead, to the point where a crimson mask was forming quickly! Derek leaned against the guardrail for support, as Bishop rolled out of the ring, picking Derek up, before slamming Derek into the guardrail with a HUGE powerslam! 

The Intense Icon continues to stay on the Director, grabbing another chair, which he proceeds to crack over Derek’s back, causing Derek to arch his back, before Bishop then cracked the chair over Derek’s head! Derek stumbles away, clearly dizzy at this point, before Bishop whips the chair at Derek’s head, knocking Derek into the guardrail as it does! Bishop was going absolutely ballistic here with these chair shots!

Bishop asks the fans in the front row to disperse, and between that and a reminder of “If the action looks like it’s coming your way, it is, grab your shit and move!” from Steve Guy over the microphone gets the fans in the front and the next two rows behind to do just that. After exchanging some words with Ziggy Haim, Bishop charges Derek, and clotheslines him right over the guardrail, taking the action out towards our fans here at The Midway! Bishop climbed over the barricade and urged the fans to get louder, before he accepted a White Claw from a fan who handed him one of the big cans. Bishop waterfalled the liquid before turning his attention back to Dillinger, and smashing the can over Derek’s head! Hard Seltzer went everywhere, and Derek fell to a knee, still bleeding profusely, as Bishop looked around for other things he could use to batter the Director. While Bishop was pandering to the crowd a little too much, though, Derek blasted him in the best with a chop. Bishop turned around, clutching his chest, before he turned back to Derek, kicked him in the gut, and then answered Derek back with a chop of his own. Derek responded in earnest with a huge forearm shot, and now two of the heaviest handed men in MPW were trading bombs back and forth with each other out in the crowd, fist after first, forearm after forearm, back and forth, both men refusing to back down from the other! 

Bishop gets the better of Derek, catching him with a few stiff chops right in a row, before grabbing Derek and whipping him back into the barricade! Derek crashes hard into the steel! Bishop takes a few steps back, and charges Derek, but Derek sends Bishop up and over the guardrail… but Bishop lands on his feet! Derek hasn’t realized it, as Wes tosses Bishop another chair! Bishop waits for Derek to turn around, before smashing the chair over Dillinger’s head! Derek leans against the guardrail in a daze, before Bishop grabs him and suplexes him over the guardrail, right down onto the concrete floor! 

Bishop grabs Derek again, and Ziggy tries to get in Bishop’s face, but Bishop simply laughs her off as he drags Derek over to the other side of the ring, and once again asks the fans to move, before once again tossing Derek over the guardrail and out into the fans! Bishop looked determined to beat Derek all over The Midway tonight! 

Once again, Derek gets back up, and once again Bishop grabs him and suplexes him back over the guardrail, driving Derek into the concrete. Derek hadn’t gotten in much in terms of offense here tonight, this match so far having mostly been all Bishop, but Derek was still moving, still kicking, still fighting, refusing to back down. Derek clings to Bishop, using his opponent to try and stand, before Bishop grabs him again and throws him into the guardrail, once more! Derek’s back collides with the steel as he rams into it, before Josh Bishop grabs Derek and tosses him back into the ring. Bishop starts digging around underneath the ring, producing two doors, and sliding them into the ring. Wes looks like he’s gonna try to get into the ring to help Josh, but Ziggy Haim pulls Wes Barkley out of the ring, and tosses him back into the barricade! Josh’ attention is grabbed away just for a second, and when he turns to focus back on Dillinger, Derek catches Josh with a HUGE right hand, dropping Josh to his knees! Derek Dillinger scoops Bishop up into a Fireman’s Carry, before charging at the corner, putting Bishop into the mat with a Rolling Senton, before using his momentum to spring up to the second rope, before Derek leaps and crashes down onto Bishop with a beautiful moonsault! Dillinger hooks the leg on the champion!

1….2… Kickout!

Josh Bishop out at two! Derek pulls himself up to his knees, wiping the blood out of his eyes, before Derek rolls out of the ring again, digging around underneath it. Eventually, Derek comes across a small black bag, and I’m pretty sure we all know exactly what’s inside of it. Derek empties the contents of the bag onto the mat, revealing a whole bunch of shiny, sharp thumb tacks that now littered the mat. Dillinger picks Josh Bishop back up, and lifts him up into the air, before slamming Bishop down, back first onto the tacks! Thumbtacks now nearly cover the entire back of Josh Bishop, and it didn’t look like Dillinger was done dishing out punishment yet! Ziggy rolls into the ring as Derek grabs a door, and lays it ontop of Josh, before grabbing Ziggy, swinging her up, and driving her down onto the door, squishing Josh underneath the door and onto the tacks again with a Painthriller! Derek holds the door down, trying to keep Bishop pinned down for a three!

1….2… Kickout!

Josh Bishop shoves the door and Derek Dillinger off of him in order to kick out! What was it gonna take to stop this man?! Bishop makes an effort to roll to the outside, stumbling and having to lean himself against the guardrail in order to stay upright.  Ziggy rolled inside, and allowed Derek to lift her up into a front facing Razor’s Edge, before Derek charged forward, and tossed Ziggy out of the ring and over the guardrail, right onto Bishop! Derek using his tag partner and manager like a human missile! 

Ziggy got back up, a crazed look in her eyes as she grabbed a chair and warned Wes Barkley to stay back, as Derek got out of the ring. At this point the barricade had practically been pushed up against the ring, so Derek just climbed over to the outside, before charging and nailing Bishop with a big boot to the head. Derek caught Bishop with a couple of stiff right hands to the face to keep him down, and Ziggy came over with the chair, smashing it over Bishop, before leaning down to where Bishop had some of Derek’s blood on him, wiping it off with her hand, and then proceeding to wipe the blood on her own face. The Grindhouse were truly unhinged, Derek especially tonight reaching a new level of brutality. Derek lifts Bishop up again, and grabbing the chair from Ziggy, places it against Bishop’s back as he lifts him up and drops Bishop onto the floor with a chair-assisted scoop slam on the outside! Bishop clutches his back in a great deal of pain, as Derek looked into the camera, his entire face covered in a crimson mask of his own blood. 

“Keep those cameras rolling… This is going to be my fucking masterpiece…” 

Over towards the guardrail, Ziggy and Wes Barkley were still arguing amongst each other, and Derek took the chair out of Ziggy’s hand and brought it back over to where Bishop was, folding it open and setting it up. Derek then picked him up and peppered Bishop with a couple more shots, before dragging him over to that set up chair and smashing Bishop’s face into it after a drop toe hold. Bishop was now joining Derek in the busted open department, as both men were now bleeding profusely. 

Derek grabs one of the cans of beer that had been left laying around, before smashing it against Bishop’s head, doing even more damage to Bishop’s busted open forehead. Derek then finds a trashcan that had been left out in the crowd for the fans' convenience, before smashing that over Bishop’s back as well! Derek hitting Bishop with everything except the kitchen sink at this point, and there was no guarantee he wasn’t gonna go looking for that next! Derek wiped some of the blood from his eyes before grabbing Bishop back up again, catching him with a headbutt, and then tossing him over the guardrail and back into the ring. Derek made the climb back over himself, and got back into the ring with Bishop. Bishop had to use the ropes to try and pull himself back to his feet, and caught Derek with a boot to the gut, followed by a big chop to the chest, but Derek answered back with a straight right hand to the face, shutting him down! Derek picked Bishop back up, and whipped him into the opposite corner as hard as he possibly can, Bishop collapsing as his back meets the turnbuckles with an insane amount of force! 

Derek tries to pick Bishop back up, but once again Bishop won’t stay down, catching Derek with an uppercut, and getting back to his feet to land a couple more shots, before going for a clothesline. Derek catches the clothesline however, wrapping Bishop up before dropping him down with a Bareback Jawbreaker! Bishop’s jaw is driven into Derek’s massive shoulder! Bishop didn’t look like he knew where he was as Derek hooked his leg for the first cover of this match!

1….2…. Kickout!

Bishop out at two, keeping this match going. Bishop pulls himself up to his knees quickly, and almost looks like he has to confirm with referee Tom Dunn that he kicked out. Derek gets back up and catches Bishop with a right hand, before lifting him back up as Ziggy gets up onto the apron, holding a chair. Ziggy holds the chair out, and Derek drives Bishop’s face right into it, before allowing Bishop to collapse to the mat, potentially out cold from that! 

Derek holds up two fingers, before shouting “TAKE TWO!” and grabbing Bishop once again, as Ziggy still holds the chair in place. This time though, as Derek goes to throw Bishop into the chair, Bishop turns it around on him, and tosses Derek into the chair headfirst instead! Derek’s head collides with the chair, and he stumbles backwards, turning right around into a HUGE Black Hole Slam from Joshua Bishop! Bishop hooks the leg, trying to end this one!

1….2… Kickout!

Derek Dillinger out at two this time! Josh Bishop gets back to his feet and grabs the door he’d been smushed under a short time ago, propping it up into the corner, before going back over and grabbing Derek Dillinger, lifting him up onto his shoulders, and driving Derek through the door with a Death Valley Driver! Joshua Bishop drags Derek out of the corner, and hooks the leg, trying to end this one!

1….2… Kickout!

The Director will not die! Josh Bishop sits up, trying to wipe some of the blood from his eyes, as he shouts to Wes on the outside to grab a table. Josh gets back up and tosses Derek out onto the apron as Wes gets the table set up on the outside, Bishop looking to put The Director down in the sequel. Bishop gets out onto the apron and grabs Derek, before trying to lift Derek up for a Bishop Bomb. Derek manages to escape, wiggling off Josh’s shoulders, before slipping behind him, and grabbing at Bishop’s face, raking his eyes. With Bishop stunned, Derek lifts The Intense Icon off his feet and up onto his shoulders, before, with a running start, Derek leaps off the apron, putting Josh Bishop through the table at ringside with a HUGE Rolling Senton! Bishop and Dillinger explode through the table, and if Derek can get up and get Bishop back into the ring, that might be the end of Josh Bishop’s Atlas Championship reign! 

Both men are down and out on the outside for a long time, but Derek is the first to stir, doing everything he can to fight back to his feet and try to get back over to Joshua Bishop. Derek gets Bishop up to his feet, and tosses him back into the ring, before sliding in himself, hooking the leg, looking to win the Atlas Championship!

1…..2…. KICKOUT!

Joshua Bishop out at two, keeping the Atlas Championship for the time being! Derek Dillinger is almost in disbelief over the whole thing. He thought he had Josh Bishop dead to rights, and that the championship was his. Alas, here we are. Our Atlas Championship match still going. Derek gets back to his feet, and does his best to drag Bishop up to his as well. Derek tries to trap Bishop in a full nelson, looking for The Directors Chair, but Bishop manages to block before Derek can lock it in all the way. Bishop catches Derek with a back elbow, sending Derek stumbling backwards. Bishop turns around, and nails Derek with a headbutt, staggering him, before Josh goes to charge Derek, looking for a clothesline, but Derek manages to block, before wrapping a hand around Bishop’s throat, looking for Chokeslam! Bishop blocks it though, grabs Derek, and spikes Derek with a Chokeslam of his own, right down onto the thumbtacks! Dillinger rolls to his knees, quick to try and get himself out of the tacks, but that just opens him up as Bishop hits the ropes, and DRILLS Derek in the back of the head with a huge forearm! Cover! 

1….2….3!

“Here is your winner, and STILL MPW Atlas Champion, Joshua Bishop!” 

[countrymusiclover]

7 - Abominations

Part 8

Gemini Runaway

@dragonixfrye

“Klaus…ah!” The woman released me into his grasp where I gasped, sniffing through some tears when he pressed a blade into my back harshly drawing some blood. 

His blue eyes welled in some tears but he didn’t dare move forward. I knew that only one of us expected this to possibly happen. “Raelyn..” 

“I’m sorry Klaus. I…I wasn’t quick enough to think that he - argh!” I winced when Mikael pressed a knife tip into my back. His other arm was clutching my forearm keeping me in place. 

His father growled in my ear. “Shut up girl! Honestly Niklaus have you learned nothing. You have now stooped to caring for this weak little girl." 

“She has nothing to do with this. Just let go so I can watch my hybrids tear you limb from limb.” Klaus told his father, staring down at me. He could hear the siphon witches' heartbeat picking up rapidly. 

His father scoffs. “You think that you are stronger than me. Thinking that you can beat me but you are a coward. No, you still just cling to that weaker side of yourself. You are an abomination and apparently so is this girl if she spends any time with you.” Blinking through tears of my own I remembered someone calling me that when I was younger but it was directed at our mother. 

Coming down the staircase of our house I paused hearing my mother arguing with someone that I recognized as my uncle Joshua. "Eliza, they are part of our Coven. They must Merge." 

"They are siphons like me. Like your son Kai that we helped banish. I left the Coven since I was already an outcast when I wasn't born with a twin and I didn't have my own magic like you." She spat in his face throwing her arms up in the air. 

Joshua grabbed her by her shoulders a little tightly. "You will always be a part of our family. You are my sister and they are my niece and nephew. It is their destiny. They must do the Merge. I can't wait till Lucas and Olivia are old enough." 

"And why not. Our parents did with you and your twin?' She questioned him, shoving him backwards away from her. 

He growled at her face. "Because if I die before we have a younger leader we all die. So I NEED your children to save all our lives! I don't care if you're whole family is an abomination. The Coven comes before the family!' 

"Phasmatos Motus!" She raised her hand throwing him across the room suddenly meaning she must have siphoned him without his knowledge. He grunted staring up at her. "My children are not abominations, Joshua and I will never help you!' 

He rose to his feet slamming the door behind him on the way out. "I'll get them to help their family one day. Mark my words little sis if you don't tell them to Merge I will force them to myself!" 

"You only forget. They may be sired by you, but they're still part vampire. And they can be compelled by me." Mikeal's voice pulled me from my memories where he harshly shoved me onto the ground with his foot on my back before the random hybrid woman handed him a girl with slightly curled brown hair. "Come out and face me, Niklaus, or she dies." 

Klaus spoke unfazed. "Go ahead. kill her." 

The girl that I must assume is the Gilbert girl he used to make his hybrids acted cared. "No, Klaus. He'll do it." 

"If she dies, this lot will be the last of your abominations." His father growled moving the knife he had in my back against the new girl. 

Klaus glanced down at me briefly. "I don't need them. I just need to be rid of you." 

"Oh but you do care about this one don't you boy." Mikael drew out another dagger pressing it deep into my back making me whimper in pain. 

Klaus croaked in his british accent seeing me cry. It was foreign to the thousand year old original hybrid to feel anything for someone who wasn't his family. "Raelyn - let her go father. Your fight is with me." 

"Oh yes. But this one you address specifically making her special to you." He shoved me up into the hybrid girls arm where she pressed the tiny blade against my throat drawing some blood where I was beginning to feel light headed. "Come outside or I'll kill them one right after the other. I don't intend to make it quickly either." 

Klaus took a step towards the doorway but I cried out knowing if he stepped outside he would kill him without a second thought. "Klaus don't  - he'll kill you. I - I can't expect you to risk your life for someone like me. Someone who her family outcasts just for being born without magic!" 

"Rae…" He mumbled under his breath barely being able to say anything. 

Mikael gains his son's attention once more. "To what end, Niklaus? So you can live forever with no one at your side? Nobody cares about you anymore, boy! Who do you have other than those whose loyalty you've forced? No one. No one." 

Klaus bares his teeth. "I'm calling your bluff, father. kill her." 

Mikael teased him while I felt the knife on my neck moving down to my stomach but she hadn't stabbed me yet. "Come outside and face me, you little coward. And I won't have to…" 

"My whole life you've underestimated me. If you kill her, you lose your leverage. So go ahead. Go on. kill her. Come on, old man. kill her. kill her!" He shouted at his father, making me jump a little started by his tone where the knife tip pricked me, drawing some blood to go on the dress I was wearing. 

Mikael laughs as Klaus sheds a tear. "Your impulse, Niklaus. It has and will forever be the one thing that keeps you from truly being great." He suddenly stabbed the brunette where she gasped and he dropped her body onto the ground then he grabbed me pressing his blood stained knife to my throat. "And last but not least the little blonde abomination!" 

"Raelyn  - argh!" Klaus screamed getting stabbed in the chest by Damon who had a different colored stake that looked to be white. 

Quickly the brunette rose to her feet causing Mikael to gasp when she threw some grenades at the hybrids standing on the lawn. "Katherine?" 

While Mikael was distracted I moved my hands around until I was gripping his forearms as tightly as I could siphoning his energy. "I am not an abomination, Mikael…and neither is Niklaus….Motus!" Raising my hands I threw him onto his back on the front lawn. 

"What are you, witch?' Mikael asked, attempting to get to his feet. 

Raising my hands up I began to feel more dizzy when I swayed on my feet sending pain through his body until he was on his knees. "Pondas!" 

"Argh…you bitch!" He screamed trying to move but my magic was keeping him there. 

Drops of blood were staining my shoes when I stared down at the vampire hunter. I raised my other hand so when I pulled it back I saw blood on my fingers but I shook the problem away. "Ah sha lana…ah sha lana!" Turning my head over my shoulder I heard someone tackle the raven haired vampire. 

Stefan is above Damon when he fights his brother. "What are you doing?!" 

"Klaus the stake…" I raised my hand with the blood on it pointing to it since it was next to him. "I…I can’t hold him forever." He takes it and rushes over Mikael. He drives the stake through his heart. Mikael burns. 

Klaus rose to his feet standing over the burning body whipping his nose glancing over at me. "Raelyn, love. You're bleeding." 

"Go, Nik." I pressured him on trying to stop the noise with my arm. But there was a wound in my stomach where I was getting very light headed. "Deal with the Salvatore Brothers…I'll be fine." 

Damon grunted up at his brother above him. "What the hell did you do?" 

Klaus entered the room while I limped up to the mansion struggling to keep my eyes open. "He's earned his freedom. Thank you, my friend. You no longer have to do as I say. You're free." He placed his hand on his shoulder when he rose to his feet and Damon quickly disappeared. 

"Raelyn?" Stefan called my name softly making Klaus turn around to see me too. 

Gripping the windseal in my fingers I leaned my body against the wall. The once bright and expensive dress was stained with blood. My hair was messy and I was barely remaining conscious. My eyes fell close a few times and I was swaying more away from the wall when I made an attempt to step towards the vampire and hybrid. "Nik, I…need…" 

"Rae!" He vamped towards me instantly, catching my body when it went limp. He holds underneath my ankles and my shoulders where I was bridal style in his arms. "Let’s get you out of here." 

Dropping my head against his chest I muttered under my breath passing out. "Nik…I'll go on a date with you…" The hybrid couldn't hold back a smile hearing the words but it didn't last long seeing the siphon witch in her current state because of his actions. 

Comments really appreciated ❤️