#because they both have matured so much only for them to both back pedal a bit

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Sorry, but I just had a thought and I’m exhausted and don’t know if I’m going to write anymore tonight.

Just Steve holding a slight grudge against Nancy after she pretty much calls his love bullshit in the bathroom. He feels lead on, he’s slightly bitter but he knows how to be discreetly passive if he needs to be. But thing is he doesn’t have the energy in him to be passive. If this had been before the monsters, and someone who he thought was the love of his life did what Nancy did and proceeded to end up dating the guy who she said not to worry about within days after getting into a fight, he would have probably done something stupid. Probably would have ruined her locker with mean words or something like that.

He wasn’t sure what he would do, he was exhausted and couldn’t think of what used to come easy to him. Or maybe he’s grown to realize how immature that was, how it didn’t even seem all that fun to do to someone. Just thinking back to spray painting slut on the theater makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Once, he used to be the one to climb up there and spray something even worst. Now the thought made him want to throw up.

And maybe the grudge he is holding against Nancy isn’t really a grudge. Maybe he has matured to realized that the grudge he held was within himself for how fast he had fallen. For how stupid he was for thinking the girl would ever end up with him. He should have seen the signs. How she defended Jonathan even after he took non consensual photos of him and her about to have sex. Which he still felt disgusted by, his skin still crawled uncomfortably around the little creep whenever he was close by.

Though when the time comes, he realizes he was holding a grudge against Nancy. When he falls harder for someone new he realizes within minutes that something was different about this one. Instead of smacking him in the shoulder and scolding him for staring to long, Eddie would pull his hair in front of his face with bright eyes. Would do something dramatic to snap Steve out of the trance he was in. Like lick his face instead of kissing him.

That was the other thing Steve discovered. In the moments where it was just the two of them, it seemed like every other minute time would stop and Eddie would be in the same bubble as him. Lost in the same spell that Steve had tumbled into, needing to kiss the other just as much as they needed oxygen to breathe.

Nancy rarely had those moments with Steve, and they had stopped right around the time she started hanging out with Jonathan.

And Steve does hold a grudge, for how she stayed with him longer than what she had to.

Eddie made him feel in love and loved. Whenever Steve watched the other man he could barely keep his hands to himself and the best part was Eddie didn’t care. Steve could bite off Eddie’s remaining nipple and the man would still let Steve do whatever he wanted to him. Nancy never trusted Steve and never earned Steve’s trust the way Eddie did within one week of knowing each other.

Eddie was the moon and Nancy had been the sun for Steve. The sun burnt his skin and left him blistered while the moon wrapped his arms around him and rocked him to sleep every night. While Steve worried about when the sun would explode, he never had to worry about the moon disappearing for to long. It always came back, no matter what happened. Even if Steve had been an asshole.

God was Steve in love. This was it for him. And maybe at one point he had loved Nancy just as much as he did Eddie.

But now, as each day passes he only finds himself falling more in love with Eddie Munson.

He slowly comes to the conclusion that his love was and will never be bullshit.

And when he finally sits down to talk to Nancy about it, he finally gets it off his chest. What had been bugging him for almost years before falling for Eddie.

“Nancy, we were bullshit. But my love, it was all real. Maybe not as strong as it is for Ed’s but I know that if … everything wasn’t such bullshit I could have gotten there.” Steve says softly to Nancy. Shortly after she confessed she still had feelings for him. He seen this conversation coming from a mile away, especially with how many one sided sparks happened between the two of them while running for their life’s on spring break.

And as he stands up, leaving her in her own shock. Letting her process that he was with Eddie, a man. He can’t help but feel proud of himself.

He didn’t intentionally hold this grudge, but he felt as if he got back at her the healthiest way he could. By maturing and moving on. And looking down at Nancy, he could tell that she needed time to do the same. Not to be with another man or date in general, but to just grow as a person. But that was no longer his problem. His problem was currently running up the steps of the trailer with what seemed to be a moving snake.

“Hey Stevie! Look what I found.”

Steve was in love, and it wasn’t bullshit.

[ruiniel]

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Characters: Alucard, Reader, Original Characters

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Also on ao3

Tags/CW: Accident context, Depressive character, Portal Fantasy, Isekai, There is a plot, And language nerdery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, References to Depression, First Meetings, Character-meets-world, Near Death Experience, References to Loss, Grief/Mourning, POV Second Person, Language Barrier, Violence, Slow burn, References to Canon, Rewriting show canon, Because why not, More tags coming

Summary:

Entertained an idea as I was doing writing warm-ups for CV: what if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what's more they can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

I.

You start at the sudden garble of voices on the radio and turn the volume down, eyes then back on the gray road. It's the start of the weekend and you cannot wait to get to your old, decrepit — but still reliable — family cabin set beyond the familiar wooded hills, a few hours' drive out of town. Once you manage better, you'll refurbish and mend it, keep it functional for as long as you can; too many things had time destroyed recently. 

The erosion in your ears is joined by a deafening crack of thunder, and you sigh as you watch the clouds hanging from the skies like a mass of lead.

“We needed this, didn't we?” you mumble at the car, as the trees slip by you on either side, their crowns and limbs bending under rising winds.

It should be getting better by now; you've been this way for months, but finally, things should be looking up again. 

It's not happening; why isn't it happening? 

It's not as though you didn't try getting back on track, struggling to do the things you used to do but no longer find joy in, still banging your metaphorical fists against the walls of your stubborn mind. There's a gnawing bite in the pit of your stomach which comes and goes — that you’re missing something, that something’s not quite right at certain moments, like the wrongly placed piece in a jigsaw puzzle preventing the completion of a greater picture.

The radio's still out and you forgot your phone in the back, which means you'll take the rumble of thunder for entertainment. The skies are even darker, now crested by lightning like holy wounds, cold and white-grey, phantom-like. Now here, now there, so fast they make you blink twice, and your foot eases on that gas pedal. “Never like this before…” you wonder, trying to remember the last time you saw nature so vicious.

If nothing else, it’s a great show.

You’re fairly sure the forest ahead and the faraway places beyond it are currently being drenched, and you hope the patched roof is sturdy enough to withstand nature at its angriest. “So much for weather forecasts,” you say to the water splotches crashing angrily against the windshield, until the dull pattern becomes a thrum against the rigid body of the vehicle, taking you with it in all senses. If only—

“Fuck!”

Your foot slams the brake but not fast enough, and your horror at the humanoid lump you’re trying to avoid running over freezes you but somehow both your hands still grasp the wheel, and next you're skidding to a precarious halt, to what it feels like narrowly avoiding flipping over with the whole damn thing.

Your hands are clammy on the steering wheel as you open your eyes, shivering, and your gaze flies to the rear view mirror; someone, is there. Someone is there, possibly hurt. 

“Oh, oh shit. Shit, shit-shit!” With adrenaline still pumping in your veins you jump out of the car and throw the back door open to search for your phone and call an ambulance, but it must have been flung who-knows-where while you were avoiding death — it's nowhere to be found.

A weak, strangled groan behind you has you whirling around, feet moving and hurrying towards the person now trying to rise to their knees and failing. 

You reach them, staring at a young face that goes with the earlier sound you heard, then at long, tattered hair, and a… ragged cape, dark and sleek with rain. What hits you most, what freezes you more than the pouring water, though, are the eyes. 

Staring at you wildly through the curtain of rain, too confused to not deepen your worry. So light, amber, golden. 

“Hey, hey a-are you hurt?!”

The absolute eeriness about them — him? — leaves you as stunned as the shock you just went through, all relief included.

He doesn't answer you, instead brings a long, heavily cuffed hand to his temple, mumbling something in a language you can't grasp but sounds faintly like 'cali'.

“C-what's that?” you ask. “Is that you? Or where you're from? Are you hurt?” you ask again though he looks left and right, rises, turns a few times, gazes at this hands, then at you, taking in your face and clothes, and the absolute insanity of this situation is beside you when that unusual face twists into utter horror and he plunges his —gloved?— fingers through his hair, raking them over his scalp.

You look him over, and apart from being soaked to the bone and dressed very, very strangely, he seems unharmed. “Listen, I can't find my—”

You gasp as he grabs your arm, staring at you wide eyed and asking you question after question in that language you just don't get and as you struggle you quickly and easily free yourself, only to see him slowly fall against you and is he ever heavy; barely you lead him down to the ground.

It's freezing cold in this downpour. There's a barren field on either side, the nearest town well half a day's drive away. Farther than your cabin, and of course the wiser thing to do would be not to take a complete stranger whom you cannot even understand there, alone with you. Besides, what if it's someone who would do you harm? Worse things have happened for less.

Even with these thoughts you rush back to the car, grab a lantern from the glove compartment and search earnestly for the only device you had on you — the phone. You find it, under one seat, screen cracked. You grab it and try anyway, but it won't charge up no matter what you do.

“Can't believe I'm doing this…” you sigh, throwing the device onto the front seat before you go to retrieve the first aid kit, only to realize there seems to be nothing needing splinting or bandaging. You'd seen no wounds on him, no outward sign of trauma. That might not be the whole story, you know, but what else to do?

You head back, see him rising to his feet again. Your steps become cautious. He's taller than you expected, but hunched and so confused as he repeats that word again, over and over, hugging his arms at his chest. Your sensible worries don't strike as hard anymore, and you come closer. “I… can try to keep you dry until you come to,” you say, but it's like he can't quite look at you, those peculiar eyes wild and head turning left and right, as though seeking something far above or deep below, and when your gazes finally collide, your thought flicks back to the jigsaw puzzle.

You nearly trip over in your haste to help when his knees buckle and he goes limp, falling to the ground again. His face is pale, deathly pale, long wet hair stuck to the skin.

The storm no longer rages, its cry is more wind than rain. The branches of trees still creak above as you pant here, between somewhere and nowhere, on the side of an empty country road with a stranger in your arms.

Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI

Banner illustration: Fifth Avenue at Twilight, ca. 1910 by Birge Harrison

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MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[erythrum]

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘸𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘭

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴!

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2.6𝘬+

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘺/𝘯’𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘥.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

It wasn't an easy sleep, I laid awake all night thinking about her question, her confession. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Do it? My head was spinning around and around, my thoughts jumbled in my brain. What if I did? Would it ruin our friendship? Would it bring us closer? Would I actually do it? Of course I wanted to, but is that taking advantage of her vulnerability? I wanted it, but not in that way, because she made it seem like a favor, rather than love.

The pain in my chest hadn’t gone away since last night. It hurt so much hearing what she said, and that maybe if we had just a little bit more time it could’ve been something more. I need to see her, tell her how I feel, make my decision.

Driving didn't ease my mind at all, my heart was racing faster as my foot pressed harder into the pedal. My knuckles clutched onto the steering wheel like I was holding on for my life.

Knocking on her bedroom door may have been the most frightening thing I've ever done. My back against the door as I chewed on a nail.

"y/n, can I come in?" I said through the door, my body trembling.

"I guess," her voice was faint and broken.

She laid in her bed, blankets covering every inch of her. My hands couldn't stop shaking as I closed her door behind me. I stood there like an idiot, feeling like I wasn't welcome in a place that was once my only home.

"Look y/n, I, I'll do it, if you still want me to, but I," just do it Rafe.

"Listen, y/n, I’m in love with you, and I have been for fucking years okay? You’re the only thing in my life that has ever been constant. I want to give you absolutely everything, we can go anywhere and everywhere you want, whatever you want. And if right now what you want is-,” it felt like I had choked on my own words. Nothing else would come out.

She sat up in her bed, legs tucked in closely to her chest hugging them with her arms. The sleeves of her crewneck wiped away her tear-stained cheeks.

“So obviously this means a lot more to the both of us than I originally thought,” she giggled.

“Yeah, you know Chapel Hill and Duke are only a twenty minute drive from one another,”

“So maybe this, us, could work?” Her voice was more clear now, but still unsure of what I wanted.

“It would, I know that for a fact,” might have been a bit too cocky. Y/n slightly adjusted herself, patting the empty spot on her bed, summoning me closer. Of course I came over to her bed without hesitation.

“But, I’m going to take you out tomorrow, how does a day on the druthers sound?” She was definitely hiding her smile.

“Fantastic, but we should maybe talk about the other thing too.”

“Ah yes, that thing, I think maybe we should lay out some ground rules before doing anything,” it was true, I didn’t know what her previous experience was and what she would’ve been comfortable doing.

“Well what did you have in mind?” Y/n sounded nervous now.

“For starters, did you want to do everything in one go? Or would you prefer taking our time, maybe multiple occasions?” I never knew with her, sometimes she liked to take things slow, and other times not.

“Definitely multiple, uh, occasions, but what would they include?” y/n questioned.

"Well probably at least the basics, you know, touching, uh, fingering-,”

"Fingering?" she laughed out loud.

"Yes fingering, and if you can't be a little bit mature about this then I don't think you're ready," I teased.

"Okay okay Rafe I'm sorry, it's just a little bit funny," and she was right, the whole thing almost felt comical.

"After all since you're a virgin it'll help get you used to the feeling," somehow it felt wrong talking to her about this stuff.

“Okay okay fine, touching, fingering, what about head?” Apparently it was her turn to be bold, I coughed on my own air hearing those words come out of her mouth. I had to grab her bottle of water on the bedside table, making any attempt to clear my throat.

"Only if you want to, of course I'm totally down to do it for you if you're interested," the idea of eating her out actually quite excited me.

"Guys actually do that? I thought it was just a porn thing?" Y/n seemed shocked, like it was something unheard of.

"I'd say it's something only men do."

"I assumed you would've wanted me to suck you off," her nervous giggle told me all it needed to.

"Not if you don't want to, everything is up to you y/n, everything," and it was true, this was all about her right now.

"When do we start?" Well someones eager.

"Now? But if anything is ever too much please let me know y/n," I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her in closer to me. She had to be comfortable and I knew that, pushing her too far too soon could ruin everything.

We stayed that way for some time, eventually turning on a show to pass the time. Y/n snuggled into my chest, her arm wrapped around my abdomen. I tried my hardest to keeping my breathing under control. We sank deeper into her bed, the blankets covering us for warmth in her cold room. My thumb moved gently back and forth on her shoulder, allowing y/n to relax into my body. I began using my free hand to caress slowly just above her knee, barely touching her. I felt the exact moment she realized where my fingers were, her breathing hitched, then relaxed again.

“Remember y/n, if anything is too much, tell me and I’ll stop,” I had to take my time with her. I pressed more firmly into her thigh, my hand grasping a much larger surface area and giving a light squeeze. After, I returned to the gentle caresses of my fingers, this time moving to her leg laying against the bed, giving me perfect access to her inner thigh. Trailing ever so slowly up her leg, I could tell she was extremely aware of my touches.

Before I knew it, she was facing me, her eyes staring deep into mine. That was when she kissed me. It sent lightning through my entire body, the feeling of her lips connecting with mine. My whole world was right here in my arms, but she pulled away much too soon.

"I'm sorry Rafe I, I didn't mea-,"

"Hey hey it's okay, it's normal right, I mean did we really expect to have sex and not kiss each other?" she laughed again before leaning back into me. It was electrifying, but once the shock passed we began slowly making out, both of us finding a perfect synchronization. My fingers started tracing up and down her thigh again as she relaxed into me. I propped my knee in between hers, giving me easier access to her. I inched further up her leg with each pass, testing how far I could go before she felt uncomfortable.

Maybe two inches away from where her leg met her pelvis her breathing hitched again, pulling her lips away from mine. I stopped in my tracks, waiting and looking at her for permission. With a slight nod of her head she was allowing me to continue. I let out a breath I had been unconsciously holding in.

I placed gentle kisses on her lips and onto her cheek, then just under her jaw. It was an attempt to calm her down, but may have down the opposite. My thumb eventually came into contact with the bottom hemline of her spandex shorts, almost to her most sensitive spot. The tender touches of my calloused fingers sitting between her heat and thigh was causing her to squirm ever so slightly. Y/n's breathing quickened, but I decided to try something different. I placed my palm on the spot above her core, adding pressure to the soft spot above her pubic bone, while swiping thumb across the top edge of her shorts. Clearly she was enjoying it, her breathing had picked up to small panting.

It was hard to ignore the growing erection in my pants, straining against the denim, begging to be touched. But that didn't matter right now, the only thing that did to me was getting my girl off. I had dreamt of this for what felt like years, for what was years. My hand returned back to its new home on her inner thigh, gripping onto her, and earning what sounded like a soft moan from her.

Meanwhile, her free hand had begun tugging on the bottom of my shirt. I almost didn't notice it, until she slipped her hand below my shirt. Y/n was grasping onto the side of my abdomen, pulling me in closer to her. Her head was nestled into my neck as I adjusted my hand, gliding just over the top of her clit before resting my index and middle finger on either side of her core. That was the thing that earned me the next whimper from y/n. I massaged slowly up and down on the sides of her, before tracing circles into her, closer and closer to the spot she craved most.

"Rafe," y/n whimpered out. Her hand warm against my skin, now gliding her thumb closer to my stomach.

"Are you okay?"

"I'd be better if this was off," she said, tugging on my shirt.

Never had I expected to be in this situation, but I did as she asked. In a swift motion I grasped onto the collar and pulled it over my head, then tossed across the room. She stared at me with those eyes, the ones that had me in a chokehold. The light casted shadows over my skin, definitely helping me out. Her hand came to rest on my chest, then slowly tracing her hand lower down my torso. I couldn't say it didn't turn me on, because she was now aware of the much more obvious bulge in my pants.

In her distraction I grazed another finger horizontally over her clothed pussy, earning yet another gasp from her. I was now the one tugging on the bottom of her crewneck, with the arm I had wrapped around her. Touching the skin on her hips along with playing with the bottom of her sweatshirt.

"Think it's alright to take this off?"

Y/n pulled away from my embrace, grabbing the bottom of the fabric and pulling it off with my help. The sight of her in that little lacy bra put another strain in my pants. Falling back into my chest I kissed her again, this time grazing my tongue on her bottom lip. I felt an urgent need to return my hand to her core, as the other traced circles on her back. My fingers met her heat yet again, this time my middle finger tracing gently up and down the center of her folds.

Eventually y/n began moving her hips, aching for more friction. I could feel the wetness beginning to seep through the spandex. The rubbing of my fingers against her core elicited whimpers from her. I focused nearly all of my attention to her clit, massaging slow circles into her with varying pressures.

"Fuck, Rafe," They sound of her voice had gone from whimpers to moans as I rubbed her faster and faster. But I couldn't let this end so soon.

"Can I take these off?" I said pulling at the stretchy fabric of the spandex.

"Please," that was all I needed to hook my fingers into the waist band of those little shorts and pull them down her legs. She pushed her hips up, craving the touches I had been giving her. But now I was entranced by the matching lace panties she was wearing. Reattaching to her center, I could feel the wetness of her core had completely drenched her. A smirk formed on my mouth, knowing I was the one who did this to her. Still, I continued the circles around her clit, with one more layer of clothing finally removed.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this?"

Shaking her head no, I felt prideful, I was the only man who had ever, and would ever see her like this. Writhing in my arms as she craved my touch.

"Rafe, can I try something?"

"Of course," that was when she straddled me, my head pushing back into her pillows. Fuck, this girl was going to be the death of me. Y/n seemed unsure of what to do from here, so I grasped onto the sides of her hips and pulled her down into my lap.

"It's okay, you can sit here," I pulled her in for another kiss, it seemed to help y/n now my own breathing had quickened, the thought that she could be grinding against me in mere moments had my dick throbbing through my pants.

As I predicted, she began rubbing her wet core against the bulge aching in my pants. My heartbeat quickened at the friction. As y/n got more comfortable, she ground her hips faster onto me. I wanted her so bad, and she most likely did too, but it was too soon. At the moment all I felt was bliss. She wrapped her arms around the back of my neck and leaned in to kiss me again. I would never forget this feeling. The pressure of her center grinding against me was driving me further and further to the edge.

The loss of her contact felt like a shock. Y/n pulled her hips off of mine and began fumbling with my belt. I couldn’t help but stare at her as she struggled, but eventually she undid it. Not only did she take the belt off, she also undid the button and zipper, sliding my pants lower and allowing better access to my now engorged bulge. Meanwhile, I traced my fingers in circles along her thighs, slowly pulling her back down into my lap. She was lined up with my dick, and I could tell the feeling shocked her a bit. The realization that only two pieces of fabric were all that separated us.

She began moving her hips back and forth against me again, it drove me absolutely crazy watching her do this. I tried to hold back, but I couldn’t stop my own hips from occasionally bucking up into hers, begging for more. After her unsureness passed, the speed at which she ground into me increased. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into me.

Her panting breaths in my ear became broken up, the continuous grinding of our hips together pushing her further to the edge.

"Rafe,"

"It's okay y/n, cum for me baby," probably shouldn't have said that.

I felt her release onto me, then collapse into my body. Our pants mixed together as we caught our breath. I tangled my fingers in her hair as she shifted off of me, resting her head into my neck.

"Enjoy yourself?" I said.

"Oh shut up Rafe," y/n laughed, wrapping her arm across me as we laid in her bed, drifting off to sleep.

"Loved me for years huh?" she mumbled.

"Was it not obvious?"

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴��𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ;)

[rat-bastard-fics]

Paul Lahote X Reader - Mine.

A/N: I haven’t written anything for a few years so please have mercy on me.

Warning: Possessiveness, PG-13 Smut, Jealousy

Description: Y/n is at the bar with Paul and after failing to get him to agree to go home, she flirts with someone else to spark his jealousy.

Word count: ~1800

Paul hadn’t had a night off in months—between work, patrols, and basic human needs, his schedule was almost constantly booked.  It was this exact reason that caused y/n to feel so guilty about wanting alone time with him.  While it was true that she constantly missed him with him being so busy, it was also true that he missed being a normal human who had spare time and could sit at the bar with a friend.  Paul and Jared had been in the pack longer than any other member—barring Sam, of course—but despite this they still rarely had a moment away from the others. The bar was loud, and they’d already been there for almost two hours.  For a homebody like y/n, it was a bit much. Feeling anxious about physically stepping into the avid conversation between Paul and Jared, y/n grabbed out her phone and decided to text Paul instead.  She felt stupid for it, but there wasn’t much that wouldn’t make her feel anxious.

Feeling anxious, could we head home soon?

She peered down the bar to watch Paul peek at his phone before setting it back down.  This was out of character for him, so y/n figured his conversation must have been one he was more invested in than normal.  She bounced her leg nervously, sipping on her water.  She gave the boys another 10 minutes—which felt like an hour—before sending another text.

Please?

Paul looked at his phone again, then looked over at his imprint waiting impatiently down the bar. He could see her nerves and nodded, responding swiftly.

I’ll finish this drink and we’ll go

y/n read the message and nodded, about to respond with an affirmative when another text came in.

Unless you really need to go now, are you okay?

To anyone else, it may not have read much, but to y/n she knew Paul really would leave without hesitation and without being upset had she pressed further.  She shot him a smile and a thumbs up and he nodded, getting the message.  While he finished his drink, y/n decided that then would be a good time to use the restroom before they hit the road.  She was sober but she’d drank quite a bit of water and, despite how grossed out using public bathrooms made her, it was the safest choice.  After commencing her business and washing her hands, y/n returned to the busy bar area where she noticed Paul taking the first sip of a new drink.  While this didn’t mean much for him—the wolves burned alcohol off at an impressive rate—it did mean waiting to leave.  Paul had probably just forgotten and, not seeing y/n where she’d been before, didn’t think twice before agreeing to one more drink with his good friend but the left y/n feeling particularly perturbed.  

As a rationally thinking mature person, y/n settled in to taking action.  Her blood was steaming, past anxiety was effectively out the window, and she quickly chose her target.  Spotting a man waiting to buy a girl a drink wasn’t difficult in such a testosterone packed bar an y/n had found her perfect match.  An innocent enough looking guy sitting well within Paul’s view.  He wasn’t too non-threatening that Paul wouldn’t notice but he also wasn’t too unsettling to make y/n nervous to approach him.

“Hi,” y/n leaned on the bar next to him and made the conscious decision—that she knew she would feel embarrassed about at any other moment—to, for lack of a better term, use her assets.  She pressed her body against the counter top in a way that shelved her boobs up just a titch higher than normal allowing her rarely seen cleavage to peak out of her casual v-neck.  The man clearly noticed as his eyes were set looking lower than her chin.

“Heeeeello, how are you doing tonight?” His greeting was drawn out in a way that gave off the vibe of him having been a douchey business-major frat guy in some former year. He wore a long-sleeved shirt that formed snug to his arms and had a slight stubble.  He seemed to be the type of man who may be a regular.

“I’m alright,” y/n bit her lip and twirled her hair idly, she could feel Paul’s attention, his eyes burning holes into her back and she could imagine his muscles tensing.  As cruel as she knew it was, y/n knew she wouldn’t have to play this game much longer, “I think I could use a drink though.”

The man jumped on the offer, immediately ordering a shot for y/n without bothering to ask what she might like.  Whiskey.  It burned y/n’s through but in a way that added to her twisted excitement.  The man began talking about something that y/n didn’t care about but she chose a moment to laugh and rest her hand in his bicep. And here it was: the final bate.  The man wasted no time in proceeding to rest his hand on y/n’s lower back and immediately a bar stool could be heard scraping on the cheap linoleum floor. She could hear his breath and feel his warmth before he got close enough to say anything.  ‘This poor man,’ for a split second y/n felt bad for the schmuck she’d chosen to smother in her game and quickly turned to her boyfriend before he had the chance to raise his fist.  It happened quickly.

Paul approached.  Y/n turned.  The man had fear in his eye that y/n barely caught as she spun and placed her hand flat on the seething shifter’s chest.  Paul looked down at her and the danger in his eye was no longer one of malice but rather one of intoxicating jealousy and possession, he dragged a tongue across his lower lip.  

“Paul,” y/n said his name low and that was all it took. He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her from the masculine prop and swiftly walked her to the door.  He gave a fleeting wave to his buddy that the two lovers effectively abandoned at the bar.

“What were you doing?” Paul almost hissed between his teeth as they left the bar.  It was cruel, and she knew that, but maybe y/n was a glutton for punishment. She was aroused by his reaction.

“I wanted to go.” She looked at Paul innocently as they made it to his car, as his eyes locked with hers she could see him run his tongue across his upper teeth and let out a tsking sound.

“You,” he approached her, pinning her between him and the hood of his car with a hand on either side of her body.  He leaned over her slowly, “are going to be the death of me.” He cracked a short smile, one that was smug and cocky and, dare she admit it, sexy.  His eyed flickered, leaving hers for only a moment to gaze down at her lips.  It was almost shameful how turned on she was at the sight of him.

“Oh?” It was breathy and all she could let out but it caused Paul to, at her dismay, chuckle and separate from her.  He went to the driver’s side door and she just watched him, standing there, yearning for his warmth.  He opened his door and looked at her.

“Well?” She was confused and it showed, her brain still calibrating what was happening.  She’d wanted so badly for him to do as he pleased with her that it was taking her a moment to catch up, “do you want to go home or not?” She bit her lip and shook her head, laughing as she went to her door and climbed in.  One door closed and then the other, Paul started the engine but didn’t go.

“Well?” Y/n allowed another moment of confusion at her suddenly seemingly indecisive boyfriend.  He sat there, looking at his keys, he hadn’t taken his hand away since he turned them.

“Fuck it.” He swiftly twisted his wrist, shutting the car back off before turning to y/n and grabbing the nape of her neck, passionately pressing his lips against hers. She reacted automatically.  Kissing Paul was like riding a bike, except not at all because there were no pedals and there were no wheels and instead of sitting on a bicycle there’s a longing to have a hot, and ideally horny, wolf of a man between your legs.  Y/n reached to unbuckle, forgetting that she hadn’t even gotten that far into the car ride and they both let out a gasp of a laugh, their teeth bumping.  Paul took initiative and pulled y/n from her seat, setting her on him instead, a leg on either side of him.  They were ravenous, starving for each other.  Paul slapped her ass and she jumped, moaning into the kiss and then he pulled away.  Y/n went to lean back in but a warm finger was placed over her lips instead.

“We don’t want to give Mr. Lonely a free show tonight, do we?” He was clearly as aroused as she was if the tent beneath her was any indication, but you wouldn’t be able to tell in any other way.  He was cool, collected, and composed. He gently set y/n back into her seat and turned on the engine once more as y/n tried to catch her breath. “One more thing.”  He grabbed her chin gently so she looked at him and his eyes were serious.

“Yes?” She was hoping he would change his mind again—her head was spinning this much, what’s a little more—and turn off he engine, but he seemed ready to head home.

“I love you. So fucking much.” It was almost wolfish the way he said it and he proceeded to kiss her one last brief time before putting the car in gear to drive home, “You,” He looked at her again, “are mine, doll face.”

[ninjakitty15]

Steering Clear (Loki Oneshot)

Loki couldn’t understand why he was pressured into this trivial, useless and utter waste of time lesson. It was all beneath him, these midgardian contraptions, when he could just as easily get the same results his own magical, mischievous way without needing to lift a finger or get a license for it. Really the only reason why he eventually agreed to the very idea of it was because he wasn’t the only one that was reluctant to go along, the one giving the lesson definitely didn’t sign up for this either and was even less pleased by this whole situation than Loki was. Loki of course found that more than amusing and therefore worth the small amount of time he would actually waste doing this. There was an ongoing joke among his assigned teacher’s friends that said teacher already had a resting murder face but seeing that there was even a darker than murderous look on his face in agreeing to this lesson put a smile on Loki’s instantly. 

“What’s got your feathers ruffled now, Barton?” Loki asked none too innocently.

Clint jerked his head sharply in Loki’s direction then with an expression that promised a lifetime of slow, painful deaths. “Shut up and get in the fucking car. You’re lucky we’re stationed in America or this would suck so much harder for both of us.”

Loki arched an eyebrow at the second part as he had come to understand America wasn’t as a great a country as it probably could be, it wasn’t even the second greatest country on this planet, probably not the third either. Nonetheless he graciously did as he was told and slid into the car smoothly, opposite side as Clint. “How do I adjust my seat exactly?” he begrudgingly asked.

“There should be a lever next to your seat to adjust the back, another one to move it forward or backward for leg room.”

Loki reached below his left side seeing as there was absolutely no way to reach down the right and found both levers, fixing his spot accordingly till he was completely comfortable. He glanced at all things needed to control the contraption, how much different could this be than the ships in Asgard? Besides the fact these ones weren’t made to be airborne, a shame that was as he actually enjoyed flying when it wasn’t by his oaf of a brother’s doing. He glanced over at Clint expectantly then and held out a hand. “I believe you have something I need.”

“What’s the magic word?” sneered Clint right back.

“You really don’t want me to say any magic words in your presence as a great many of them wouldn’t give you any peace of mind, something I’m sure you’ve already experienced,” growled Loki right back.

Clint considered chucking the keys he was harboring out the window but as this wasn’t even his car and he was the assigned supervisor for it, he would be the one in trouble for losing them in the end. He also considered a few scenarios where he would get out of the car right before a freak accident occurred with Loki still inside but he reminded himself as the car was still his responsibility in the end and Loki was after all superhuman, he would still be the only one hurting from it. Not worth the pain on his end. What would Natasha do? Probably blind him in one eye that would hinder his ability to drive without depth perception and make it look entirely like he did it on purpose.

“What exactly do you need from me? Ask me nicely,” Clint retorted before realizing how sexual that sounded and inwardly cringed, it sounded a lot better in his head.

“If you would give me the keys to this death trap, Barton, that would be ever so kind of you,” Loki in turn purred, not at all bothered.

Clint reluctantly handed it over, already done with the verbal sparring and just wanting this whole thing to be over already. He suddenly had a desperate need to take a long shower and scrub himself raw. 

Loki took no time at all figuring out which key actually worked for the car and turned it till the engine came to life for him.

“Check your mirrors first,” grumbled Clint, earning him an eyeroll from his student driver. “How can someone so much older act so childish?”

“You’d be better asking that question to my older brother who has yet to reach maturity himself despite being the crown prince.”

“I would but I’m stuck here with you instead. Gently press your right foot on the brake pedal on the left then firmly pull the stick shift from P to D.” Clint decided to blame Tony for his mind instantly thinking that too sounded dirty, he couldn’t have been any more uncomfortable doing this if he was wearing a thong and Natasha’s super suit.

Loki did as he was told and was tempted to read Clint’s mind seeing how even giving the god instructions seemed to grind his gears the wrong way but decided against it as he too wanted this over with. 

“Take your foot off the brake pedal and gently press it on the accelerator pedal on the right, slowly please. Keep both hands on the wheel as often as possible on either side of the top center or ten and two if this was a clock.”

Loki threw a glance around him before he got bored of simply following instructions to the T and pretended to slowly drive forward before applying more pressure on the pedal and bolting forward, peeling out into the driving course parking lot and weaving his way through the orange traffic cones, tires screeching the entire way with every sharp unorthodox turn. He stole a glance at Clint whilst driving like a Fire Giant out of Muspelheim who was sheet white and pressed back against the passenger seat, knuckles just as white while one hand gripped the seat and the other hand grasped the latch over the window. He then stopped short in front of a stop sign temporarily stationed ahead before lurching forward and quickly figuring out how much to turn the wheel and brake at just the right time and pressure to miraculously park between two other SUV’s to check off parallel parking on the list of driving achievements. He put the car back in park and turned off the car before turning to Clint fully for his reaction.

“How’d I do?” Loki asked once again not too innocently or as innocently as the god of mischief could sound.

“What the actual fuck was that? No, don’t answer that! I’m gonna need a moment to hold down my lunch and a clean pair of pants after that stunt.” He looked over the list he was given to decide if Loki passed the test or not and was dismayed to find there was no spot for comments or complaints. He was even more dismayed to find that Loki despite his antics and speeding had somehow managed to check everything off the list, well almost everything, he didn’t use his signal lights though to be fair, that seemed to be a dying art among drivers depending on where you were driving. “How the hell did you pass, this is some bullshit.”

“What is it you Midgardians would say? Ye of little faith?”

Clint snorted at Loki’s smug commentary. “This is why I’m atheist.” He snatched the keys from Loki once more and the two got out of the car, Clint glaring at Loki the entire time. “If there really were such things as gods then one of them would show some mercy and put me out of my misery by now.”

“Why Barton, all you had to do was ask and I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Loki cooed.

Before Clint could lunge at the cocky god like he so desperately wanted to do since shooting him wouldn’t do anything, Fury interrupted their verbal battle himself and directed his unforgiving gaze at Clint in warning. “How’d he do?”

“He fucking passed! I’m done with this fuckery! I’m going home and having a shower and a drink, maybe at the same time and I’m never doing any more favors for you ever! Peace!” He tossed the paper in the air dramatically and stormed off without another word or a glance back.

Fury caught the paper before Loki could and read down the list curiously before glancing up at Loki who was smirking proudly back at him. He then took out a cigarette and a lighter and promptly set the paper on fire. “You didn’t think I’d notice the format had been changed and the list shortened, did you?”

Loki scoffed. “Consider me surprised you notice anything with only one working eye.”

“Consider yourself a pedestrian until I decide otherwise and if there is an otherwise it will be either myself or Romanoff as your tester and you can bet we won’t take any of your bullshit tricks. Until then, you better start walking now if you want to get back to the compound by the evening.” Fury then unlocked the car behind the one Loki had parked and smoothly backed out and sped off.

Loki watched Fury drive off and rolled his eyes before disappearing in a flash of green then reappearing right where he last stood and looked around. He sighed, shook his head, and repeated disappearing and reappearing two more times. “What sorcery is this?”

“Mine actually,” another familiar voice spoke up before a sparkling gold ring appeared behind him and out stepped another sorcerer in a red cape and blue robes. “When you can drive, you can teleport again, no shortcuts or cheating.”

“I thought you didn’t want to deal with the Avengers.”

“Oh I don’t, but putting you in your place again made their lesser annoyance worth it. Start walking, no taxi, lyft or Uber will pick you up either, I made sure of it.” He stepped back through his gold ring before Loki hurled a dagger he had summoned at him and disappeared from the parking lot, leaving Loki alone and stranded.

Loki tried once more to teleport only to remain back where he stood before again and cursed in his native tongue before eying the remaining car left. He couldn’t teleport clearly but if he could summon daggers, his magic wasn’t completely cut off. He snapped his fingers and the car unlocked for him, the mortals were fools for teaching him how to drive. He slid into the car and started it up with magic, smirking in satisfaction as it came to life at his command. Rob Zombie’s Red, Red Kroovy came blasting on the stereo and his smirk widened. The sky might be Thor’s but the roads were now his. He glanced up at the rear view mirror before peeling out of the parking lot, the black SUV shimmering into a forest green sports car as it sped off into the city. As if he needed anything but himself to get what he wanted or where he wanted. 

[angelanimedesaray]

Through The Looking Glass Chapter 5: Flickers In Time

AN:  Okay, so there’s a lot of time skipping in here, just a lot of brief short moments as our little ones get a little older.  The time frame is honestly all over the place for what happens when.  I’m doing this before we get back on track because I realized a lot of these scenes I had planned I couldn’t string together in a cohesive linear fashion at the length I’ve been writing these chapters, so I decided just to do a time passing chapter, and here we are.

Also, congrats guys, the next chapter is our first MATURE CONTENT warning that I’m honestly a little nervous writing, but we’ll see how it goes.

Characters:  Levi, Reader, Reader’s Parents (Mentioned), Kenny (Mentioned), Occasional OCs

Pairings:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Angst, Family Drama/Troubles, Running Away, Mentions of Divorce, (Is Fluff really a Warning??? I mean, if you don’t want to feel warm fuzzies, I guess)

Word Count:  10464

<---Previous Part    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

Levi flickered in and out of your life in moments that could be fleeting like the pictures of an old film, or seemingly endless and frozen in time, held in your hands like precious gems.

Friends came and went as you grew older and the social cliques and popularity divided people further and further away at school.  It didn’t help that your mother followed through with her threat and pulled you out of school to homeschool you for a year, and your family moved a few times for your father’s job. But despite all the rapid change in the space of a few years, Levi continued to appear at the most unexpected of times, a constant friend despite his inconstant presence.  He grew more...distant, the older the two of you became.  Not distant like your friends at school had become, simply more...reserved, withdrawn into himself, and wary of the world around him.  But you could still get him to relax, get his guard to lower some when he was around you.  He always arrived acting far more mature than his age, but you managed to get him to be a /kid/ with you at some point during his visits…

*Levi’s POV*

The trees outside had turned, a palette of oranges, reds, yellows, and lingering remnants of green, clinging to the thinning tree branches or littering the ground like paint spatter.  Levi had stared at the colors in silent, wide-eyed fascination when he’d appeared, twirling an orange leaf between two fingers by the stem before Y/N had grabbed him by the arm with a happy exclamation of his name, dragging him deeper into the yard and insisting that he help her rake up a pile of leaves to jump into.

He’d been a little displeased when he saw all that hard work to rake up the yard disappear as she jumped into their pile and sent leaves everywhere, but the shrieked giggles and the wide grin on her face as she rolled around and continued to spread leaves everywhere helped make up for it.  Plus, she was perfectly ready and willing to rake up the pile all over again so Levi could try doing the same--apparently she’d seen his skepticism over the point of it all.

He had to admit that there was a sort of childish thrill to jump in and cause an explosion of fluttering autumn colors all around him.

Afterwards, when the leaves were raked up into their final piles and they had picked all the bits of multicolored leaves off of one another, she had dragged him inside raving about caramel apples she said were a Halloween only treat--whatever that was.  By now, he’d learned to just go with the strange things she said.  They made sense to her, and he didn’t need to understand everything she talked about to enjoy what she was trying to share with him.

This time, it was green apples on sticks with a shining brown glaze and chopped up nuts sprinkled all around it.  It was sticky at the same time it was juicy, since the apple was crisp and fresh underneath--sweeter than the things he was used to eating, but not enough to give him a stomach ache, thankfully.  They both had the caramel and apple juice all over them when they finished, having to scrub at their faces and fingers afterwards.  As with most of the foods and drinks she shared with him when he visited, it was another thing he’d been able to genuinely enjoy, part of him wishing the treat wasn’t seasonal like she’d told him it was so that he could look forward to maybe having one more often when he saw her.

*Levi’s POV*

The excitement practically oozed from Y/N when he appeared one day, and she dragged him into the house, informing him that her family bought a piano for her to practice with at home.  This was something he was more familiar with by proxy, considering all the times she’d talked about learning to play the piano, sometimes at his prompting.  As such, as soon as she said she had a piano, for once he knew what he was being dragged into, and he looked forward to it with enough curious excitement that he easily matched her pace.  Curiosity and even some excitement radiated from him as they tread into a part of the house that he hadn’t seen since his first visit.  At the foot of the stairs was the large living room, and pushed up against the wall was a light brown wooden piece of furniture with ivory white and onyx black keys, and a matching bench pushed underneath.

Y/N let go of his arm long enough to pull out the bench with a brief, frustrated grunt when it got caught on the soft rug, which did in fact cover the entire flooring now that Levi got to look at it.  She slid onto the bench with ease and got off again to adjust it, doing this several times until she had it where she wanted it and could reach the pedals at the bottom and seemed to be able to reach the keys.  At that point, she turned to look at Levi, who had walked up to the piano to investigate, hand gliding gently over the smooth wood and listening to the hollow thunk of her foot pressing on the peddles underneath as she tried to make sure she could reach everything.

“C’mon, there’s room for both of us.  You can turn the pages for me, too!” she said cheerfully as she opened up a thin book that was propped up in the center of the piano above the keys on a built-in stand.

Levi racked his brain for the names of some of the songs she’d said she was learning to play on the piano in all their conversations, dismissing the ones she’s said were really easy, the first songs she’d learned to play.  What had been the name of that one song she’d been looking forward to learning?

“Have you learned Furr A Lease yet?” Levi asked as he took a seat next to her on the bench.

Y/N lit up as he mentioned it, flipping through the pages of the book and settling on a specific one that had rows of bars and spots that made no sense to him, but clearly meant something to her.  “You remembered!  I had my teacher promise to teach me to play Fur Elise as soon as I could recognize all the notes, so I can!  You’ll have to turn the page once for me,” she rambled, fingers hovering over and finding their place on the keys as her eyes flickered up towards the pages in front of her.  A look of concentration fell across her face, and after a few moments of silence where Levi simply watched her, her fingers pressed down on the keys in semi-practiced movements, and a lovely sound started to fill the air.

Occasionally she pressed a little too hard or too soon on a key, and the sound was thrown off, but Levi was aware that she was learning.  Even though it threw him off in the moment, he was still enjoying listening to her play.  He could see she was trying hard, and the practice was paying off.  The sound was nice and beautiful, and it was gentle, like her.

He only moved when she asked him to turn the page for her.  He had to stretch with care to make sure he didn’t get in her way, but he apparently timed it right, because her playing didn’t hitch because of missing notes.

After that, whenever they were inside and she wasn’t intent on having him try something else out, he asked her if there was anything new she’d learned to play on the piano.  Every time, she would drag him into the living room like he’d hoped and they would sit down side by side on the bench while she played for him.

*Reader’s POV*

One of the great things about Levi whenever he showed up was how he was willing to listen.  He wasn’t much of a talker, anyway, he never had been.  But even though he didn’t speak, and there was a distance as time went by, it wasn’t out of indifference or coldness.  He did listen to what you talked about, and considering he was able to recall stuff even from past conversations and ask the occasional meaningful question, you knew he was, in fact, paying attention.

Considering you didn’t have anyone to talk to with some of your interests, it was a breath of fresh air.  Even with your parents, some of the things you tried to talk to them about, they started using the mechanical voice, the one that told you that they weren’t really paying attention because they were giving automatic, short responses.  And the few people your age that bothered to spend time around you didn’t understand some of the things you wanted to talk about, or gave a blank look and then switched the subject to something else entirely.

With Levi, you could go into depth about rudimentary energy conversion, or basic natural science--the basic stuff taught in elementary science classes that you were developing a stronger and stronger interest in as time passed.  Most of the people your age that you knew didn’t really care about science unless they got to see something with fire, something explode, or got to do an activity they could barely put any effort into and goof off for the rest of class.

Even if Levi didn’t understand everything you told him, he tried to.  And what you could demonstrate or explain, you did, with Levi paying attention and trying to follow what you were saying to the best of his ability.  If he seemed like he wasn’t interested, as you’d been worried a few times by wandering eyes or a general look of disinterest, he usually put those worries to rest with a well-formed question that showed he was paying attention.

When he did lose interest, or perhaps gave up on trying to follow something you were attempting to explain, he would change the subject to something else that you enjoyed.  That way the topic was still something you enjoyed and wanted to share, even if it was no longer the one you’d previously been talking about.

Which you understood.  It wasn’t for everyone, and he wasn’t going to be as enthusiastic about it as you, no matter how much you talked about or explained things to him.  He still did far more than most people you knew, and listened nonetheless.

Though you did notice that one time you talked about studying the human body and naming bones and such, he was already surprisingly knowledgeable, and even helped you study and remember some things you were struggling with.  Like remembering the names of bones and their spots in the human body.  It wasn’t that you thought he was stupid, it was just that you’d gotten so used to having to explain most of the sciencey things you talked about, it through you for a loop when he was rather knowledgeable about it.  Especially the specific parts he was knowledgeable about: arteries and the like.

But, whenever you started to get that worried, pondering look on your face and your mind started to wonder how he knew those kinds of things so well, he usually caught on and managed to direct your attention elsewhere, the touchy subject forgotten before you could dig too deep and realize something unpleasant.

*Levi’s POV*

Warmth trailed uncomfortably from Levi’s nose and down over his lips, his jacket hanging halfway down the arm that was still clutching the bloodied knife in a tight grip.  His eyes weren’t on the almost unconscious man underneath him, but on the tan coat and wide brim hat that was quickly disappearing from sight without so much as a glance back in Levi’s direction.  His lips parted, intending to call out to the man, but he disappeared entirely before he could gather the words.

Gone, just like that, without a word from either of them.

And something inside him told him he wasn’t coming back.

His grip slackened slightly on the knife, stunned and still staring in the direction Kenny had disappeared.  His smug accomplishment at winning the fight he’d picked with the adult now below him disappeared entirely in the wake of on setting abandonment as the reality of what had just happened settled in, and Levi realized he was now alone in the Underground.

He blinked, and while the lighting didn’t change much, the smell in the air did.  The man below him was gone, the ground was different beneath his feet, and the lighting, while still dark, wasn’t from the absence of light from a nonexistent sky.  There was no ceiling again, just the trees up above him, and open night sky with the moon and stars glinting around him.

The surface.

Which meant…

He didn’t have to look far.  He simply turned his head a little to the side, and there was the wooden playhouse he’d slept in several years ago.  Sitting atop it was the familiar form of Y/N, though she was a little hunched over.  At the sight of her, Levi instinctively hid his bloodied knife, taking a moment to wipe it off in the grass below him before he put it away where she wouldn’t see it.

Like the day he’d found her sitting on the steps after that incident at the school, there was shouting coming from the house, mainly a woman shouting.  There were pauses in between, and if he listened hard enough, he could faintly make out the sound of a man’s voice replying.  He couldn’t make out what either of them were saying, but whatever it was, he was sure it was the reason she was hunched over on top of the playhouse like a depressed bird.

Levi pulled out his handkerchief, and barely managed to get it to his nose to wipe away the blood when she finally noticed him.  Her posture straightened slightly upon seeing him, though she definitely hunched back over to wipe at her face first before she turned to face him more fully.

“Are you alright?  You’re bleeding,” she stated.

Of course concern for his well being was the first thing she said.  She was always worrying over him, it seemed.  Even when there was clearly something upsetting her, she asked about him, first.

“It’s nothing,” he answered, finished wiping away the blood and secretly hoping it wouldn’t continue to bleed so she wouldn’t continue to fuss over something that equated a scratch for him.  He was probably going to look a little rough no matter what he did, considering he was literally just in a fight.

As Levi walked over to the playhouse, Y/N leaned down and fixed his jacked, pulling the shoulder up from his elbow and back where it belonged before Levi could shrug her off and fix it himself.  He didn’t need her fussing over him like a mother, because she wasn’t.

Partially sulking, and nowhere near wanting to talk about his own problems right now, Levi decided to draw her attention away from him again as he leaned his back against the side of the playhouse that was now too small for both of them to fit inside.

“You’re upset.  What’s going on?” Levi asked, head inclined back towards the house for clarity since they could still hear voices from inside.

Y/N shrank again, and Levi’s gaze settled steadily on her once again.  “My dad’s going back overseas,” she said quietly.  Levi’s brow furrowed at the mention of overseas, no idea what she was talking about or what that was even supposed to mean.  Context clues told him her dad was leaving again.

There seemed to be a lot of that going around right now.

“They’re fighting about it because apparently my dad’s already done his required military service.  He doesn’t need to go back, but he is,” she clarified just as softly.  “Mom’s insisting that he doesn’t love us enough to stay, and he wouldn’t go if he did.”

Levi looked away as she got especially quiet, and he suspected she might be shedding more tears.  At the same time, Kenny’s retreating back flashed through his mind.  Sure, Kenny didn’t love him, Levi wasn’t an idiot, he knew that much.  But he’d thought, at the very least...well, he hadn’t expected to get abandoned in the street like that.  And he felt betrayed because of it.

As much as he thought this would be a good distraction from his harsh reality like it usually was, this was just echoing his own pain right now, and he hated it, a muscle twitching in his jaw as his teeth ground together, and a bit of resentful anger starting to bud inside him towards a man he hadn’t met for making Y/N feel a similar sense of abandonment.

“She’s wrong, though.”

Or maybe not.

Levi looked up in surprise at Y/N’s entire change of tone, which went from small, timid, and hurt to firm determination with a bit of fire he hadn’t seen from her before peeking through.  It wasn’t at all what he had expected from her, and she wasn’t done, either, wiping away residual tears as she continued to speak in that firm tone.  The way she spoke, it was easy to tell she was venting out frustration that her mother didn’t understand this.

“I know he loves us.  Just because he’s going away for a while doesn’t mean he hates us or anything.  He’s going because he needs to protect people, it’s what he does, and it’s the right thing to do.  It’s scary when he’s gone, and it hurts, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love us.”

Levi watched her as she smoothed her hair back with both hands, taking a deep breath before she hopped off the playhouse.  He straightened up from his previous position leaning against the playhouse, but before either of them said anything, she suddenly wrapped both of her arms tightly around him.  Levi stiffened, pain flaring up in his side where he’d been hit during that fight, hands starting to rise to push her off him in an instinctual reaction, but she was attached to him like a leech, and as his hands met her sides to push her off…

“Thank you for being my friend, Levi,” she murmured into his ear, and Levi paused.

Hesitantly, Levi returned the hug, his hands finding a place on her back as she clung tightly to him.  She was warm, and it was comforting to be held like this again since…

Well...he didn’t want to think of how long it had been.  Already he felt a slight burn in his eyes, a mess of emotions trying to bubble up and out of his chest as he clung tightly to Y/N in return, wrestling with himself to keep it under control.  The hug felt good, but he could tell he was trembling, and with how tightly they were holding one another, surely she could tell as well.

Y/N’s arms loosened slightly, and she started to pull back in concern.  “Levi, are you all right?”

Cursing himself for the outward display of weakness the whole time, Levi hugged her a little tighter in response, which gave her enough of a hint that she stopped trying to pull away.  Instead, she secured her arms around him again in that comfort he suddenly realized he craved.  Every moment he wasn’t here on the surface, he craved the clean air, the warmth of the sun, the energy that oozed off of her and helped lift his spirits, as well as the security he felt while he was here.

If only he had the security of staying.  If only he wasn’t so sure that he would simply flicker away again, like every other time.  If only this existence didn’t keep slipping through his fingertips like a mirage lost in fog.

If only people stopped flickering out of his life...like Kenny just had.

“Why do people leave?”

The words slipped past his lips before he could get control of himself again, and he cursed his stupidity.  Why did people leave--it was a stupid question he already knew the answer to.  Because the world was cruel and harsh, full of death and destruction that took without a care, with people that were just as cruel and destructive.  And sometimes, when it seemed like people cared...well, he knew better now.  Already he was forming another wall to try and keep people out before they could wreak that kind of damage on him again when they left.

Y/N, while she didn’t give him an answer--maybe she didn’t have one, considering her more sheltered existence--still gave him something to hold to.  Though he wasn’t sure how concrete the promise really was, considering how they kept fluttering through each other's lives.

“I won’t leave, Levi.  Not really.  I’ll always be here when you need me most,” she promised, her words muffled since her face was still buried in his shoulder thanks to the hug.  “I’m usually here waiting and looking for you to come back, anyway.  You’re the only real friend that’s stayed with me so far.”

*Reader’s POV*

“What nonsense have you cooked up this time?”

By now you were done being surprised by Levi’s sudden appearances.  If they hadn’t started when you were so young, perhaps this wouldn’t be normal to you, and you would wonder how he got into your house and in your room on the second floor without a sound or alerting your parents, but it had never occurred to you to ask those questions in the past, and before enough time passed for you to start asking those kinds of questions, it became normal for you.  With Levi’s appearances being normal, you no longer thought it odd.

Not even looking up, you gestured to the chessboard on one side of you and the halfway finished game of solitaire on the other side.  “I got grounded for lying, so I’m trying to entertain myself.  Thought I would try to play some card games.  Or practice some chess.”

For once, Levi didn’t look completely lost as he took a seat across from you in between the two games.  It was like you had at long last spoken a language he understood, his eyes flickering between the stalemate on the chessboard and the game of solitaire you were too stubborn to admit defeat with.

It was a little difficult to play against yourself when you knew your opponent self’s every next move.

Levi’s eyes flickered around the room, probably noting the lack of...well, lots of things.  Most of the stuff you usually played with.  No video games, or movies, or music, or even books.  You’d dragged this out of the family game chest for something to do.  You weren’t even allowed friends over for a little while.  It was your mother’s way of putting the pressure on you to stop lying and tell the truth.

“It must have been a pretty big lie,” Levi commented as his eyes returned to you.  His comment earned a bitter snort from you, especially at the dark humor you found in him saying that.

“I wasn’t lying.  Just, no one believes me,” you said with a sigh, glancing up at him before you shook away the depressing thoughts.  Levi wasn’t always here, and when he was, you never knew how long he would be here.  Every time he showed up, you had to make the most of it.

“Come on, this will be much more fun if you play a few games with me.  Chess or cards?  I am ready to teach,” you said excitedly, leaning forward and planting your palms on the ground as you came closer with a wide smile, gazing at him expectantly as you waited for him to choose.

“I know a few games,” Levi said, nodding towards the cards.  You immediately brightened.  Could you get right to playing games for once?

“Which ones do you know?  War, slapjack, blackjack, rummy, go fish, poker--well, I don’t know how to actually play some of those, I just know they’re card games.”

Levi shrugged.  “Basic gambling games.  Like poker and blackjack.”  A blush started to creep up in your cheeks as you realized he knew the games you didn’t know how to play.  His sharp eyes didn’t miss the expression, and a first finally happened between you.  “I can teach you.”

You nodded sheepishly, watching as Levi gathered up the cards that had made up your solitaire game and shuffled the cards, starting to explain how to play poker to you as he handled the cards.  You never heard him talk longer than short sentences, so hearing him talk about something at length was new for you, and it was your turn to listen to him with quiet attention.  He had a rather soothing voice.  Steady and fairly low--at least for a boy his age--and occasionally he said his words like a sigh.  It gave him a general carefree feel as you listened.  If you had been tired, he probably could have lulled you off to sleep just listening to him.  It helped that you were paying avid attention to give him the same respect he gave you when you were talking about things you were interested in.

Even though poker was usually played with more people, you and Levi played a mock version of it with CheezIts you swindled from downstairs.  Needless to say, Levi was a little...too good at playing poker.  For the life of you, you couldn’t read him while playing the game, which meant he won every time.  Eventually, you got pouty.  Sure, your dad never /let/ you win when you played chess with him to teach you how to really play, but this was ridiculous.  At least you could take a few chess pieces off the board with your dad.  This was just--just--

You huffed as Levi scooped the pile of CheezIts towards himself once more, looking mildly annoyed at the orange dust he kept having to wipe off his hands as they played.  “You’re too good at this game.”

“You’re not good at hiding your expressions.  You’re an open book.  And you have lots of tells,” he returned bluntly, shuffling the deck once more.

Was he smiling?  You could have sworn he just smirked, but it was gone before you could be sure.  Dang it!  You had to do something to get back at him or this was going to drive you crazy.

“Bah, enough poker for today.  I at least know the basics of how to play now.  Maybe we could do some chess?” you asked hopefully.  Chess was something you knew but he didn’t.  You’d have the advantage again.  Hopefully you’d be able to beat him a few times and it would satiate your desire for a few victories.

Levi simply sat aside the cards after shuffling them, coming over to the chess board as you set it up.  “You’ll have to explain this one,” he said softly, gaze roaming over the starting positions of all the pieces to commit them to memory.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly,” you said cheerfully before you started explaining how each piece got to move and the goal of the game.

It was a nice respite from an undeserved punishment while it lasted.

*Levi’s POV*

For once, he found an upside to living underground, as when he appeared outside, he was almost instantly drenched in an unpleasant feeling with humid, hot air and the sun beating down on him, making him cover his eyes entirely and re-expose himself to the bright sunlight little at a time.  At the same time, he shrugged off his jacket, pushing hair out of his face and looking around with a squint for Y/N.  She had to be close, she always was.

“Levi!”

Levi turned at the sound of her voice, spotting her as she came out of her house pushing something slender with two wheels along with her, waving her hand excitedly with a fancy bag slung across her chest from shoulder to waist.  She hurried over to him, hands guiding the wheels in the proper direction as she approached.  She kicked out a metal bar and let the slender thing prop up on it when she reached him.

“I was just going to the store to get some treats--do you want to come?” she asked cheerfully.

“Might as well,” Levi mumbled, his jacket draped over his arm now, though he was considering using it to give himself some shade.

“You can put your jacket in my bike basket, and...um…”  She frowned, turning back to look at the bike with a thoughtful look.  There was only one weird looking seat, and he was certain both of them were not going to fit on it.  “Well, I haven’t done it before, but you can try riding on the handlebars.  Or I can try it, if you know how to ride a bike,” she said, looking back at Levi, who was already shaking his head no in response to the upcoming question.

“Handlebars it is,” she said with a nod, swinging her leg over the bike to get situated on the seat and kicking that bar of metal back, balancing the bike on the two tires.  Levi put his jacket in the basket at the front, and then hesitated, looking at the way she balanced on the bike and the slender bar with her hands on either end.

This was not going to end well…

“Come on, it’s not that hard.  I don’t think so, anyway.  And I’m right behind you to keep you from slipping.  It might take a few tries while I figure out how to balance with two people, but we’ll figure it out.  It would be easier if I had bike pegs, but I don’t, so…”

Here goes nothing, Levi thought, turning his back to her and putting his hands just inside hers on the handlebars before he jumped up and back, partially landing on his hands.  Y/N moved her hands to the very edge, allowing Levi to get his hands out from underneath him and move them off to the side as his ass hung over the edge of the bike.  Her chest was pressed against his back as she leaned forward, though, giving him a bit of stability like she said as she leaned forward, head peeking around his shoulder so she could see.  Levi kept a tight grip on the bike as she shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out the balance and keep them from tipping over--something Levi felt happening every time she tried to lift her feet.  She was going to make him a nervous wreck if she kept--

Instead of trying to lift her feet again, Y/N just started walking them forward slowly, getting the wheels to start moving instead of trying to balance in place.  As they started heading down the brown stone walkway, Levi wondered why she didn’t just move onto the wider black stone street that looked like it would give them more room for error than this narrow brown stone path.

As they started to pick up speed, Y/N suddenly took her feet off the ground again--which Levi knew, because the bike wobbled.  “Hold on!” she told him, which was entirely unnecessary--his knuckles were white on the bars as they started to go faster with a push he could feel, and the bike wobbled and veered from side to side as Y/N attempted to steer while Levi had the better grasp on the handlebars.  Eventually they managed to find a sort of arrangement, and they were steering mostly in tandem, Levi feeling what direction she was trying to move the handlebars and watching the narrow path in front of them to see what direction they needed to go in order to avoid crashing into something.  As they picked up speed and Y/N adjusted to what they were trying to do, the ride grew smoother, the wobbling stopped for the most part, and Levi was able to relax.  Mostly.

As they navigated the streets in their precarious arrangement, Levi had to blink sweat out of his eyes and squint against the wind, Y/N occasionally switching which of his sides she was peering around as they continued to go down the path at a speed that he occasionally wondered if she had complete control over.  He kept worrying she was going to accidentally swerve into something, or wasn’t going to be able to slow down before taking a corner and they would lose balance.

Finally, finally, she started to slow them down, and skidded to a stop in front of a red brick building with a glass and metal door.  Inside he could see bright light from a light source other than fire that he wasn’t familiar with, and a cacophony of brightly colored packages on rows of shelves.  Levi hopped off the bike and looked inside with cautious curiosity as Y/N moved the bike over to the wall and lowered that metal bar again, leaning the bike next to the wall out of the way before she approached him.

“I have enough money I’ve saved up to get us some soda and candy, or ice cream.  Since it’s hot out, I think ice cream would be better,” she mused as she pulled open the door, letting him go in first.

And she was speaking gibberish again.  Well, for the most part.  He didn’t know what the soda or ice cream was, but he of course knew what candy was, though he usually didn’t bother with it because it was such a luxury, and that money could be spent on more important things.

And here the difference between him as the Underground dweller and her as the surface dweller was glaring.

There was a man behind a counter off to their left as Y/N came in behind him, a man who immediately eyed Levi was a narrowed look as he took in his ragged appearance and (current) lack of a coin purse or a bag.  When Y/N bounded in with her clean-cut appearance and bag that obviously had money in it though, the dirty look eased, though Levi could still feel the man watching him to make sure he didn’t steal anything.

Y/N dragged him towards the back where there were more glass doors keeping certain products inside, with strangely shaped bottles and other containers with more bright colors.  “I’m thinking we can choose a drink, and an ice cream, and we can have some over at the conservation site we went to that one time!  Wait, no, the ice cream will melt by then...we can have the ice cream as soon as we get outside!” she amended as she brought him to a stop in the back in front of the wall of completely foreign foodstuffs.  Levi looked blankly at everything in front of him, completely lost on what he should get.  Hell, he’d never even seen half of the materials this place was made out of.  He was used to wooden buildings and shelves, to dirt or clay walls with the occasional stone structure, firelight or darkness.  He didn’t even seen any flames in this place, yet it was as bright in here as outside, but with more...artificial colors.  This place was different enough he was unsettled by it, and he honestly wanted to leave as soon as possible so he could be back somewhere that felt more...comfortable or familiar.

“You haven’t had soda or ice cream before, have you?” Y/N asked, deflating a little as she asked it and realization flashed in her eyes.  Levi shook his head, and she turned back to the wall of product with a slight frown, hands on her hips.  “Well...what kinds of foods or drinks do you like?  I like the really chocolatey stuff, or the fruity stuff.  Mom’s always telling me to have less because there’s so much sugar in it.”

“I don’t have a lot of sugar,” Levi said quietly.  Too much, and he might get a stomach ache, so he’d like to stay away from something packed full with sugar like she was claiming.

“You probably don’t want soda, then.  It’s super sugary and bubbly.”

Well that last part just made him curious…

“Or you can start with something lighter, like Sprite, or ginger ale...or you can have lemonade instead…”

At this point she was just talking to herself, pulling open the door in front of them to start picking up and looking at the bottles.  Levi shivered at the surprising blast of cold air, suddenly wishing he had his jacket as she held the door open, continuing to look at the bottles.  Levi’s head was on a gradual swivel, taking in the sight of all the different colored packages around him and trying to figure out what everything was.  This was nothing like the Underground, it was the exact opposite.  He didn’t even recognize anything in here--so far, anyway.  You would think they were from entirely different worlds.

“How about this--I’ll get a lemonade and a Sprite, I’ll let you try the Sprite, and if you don’t like it, I’ll just take the Sprite and you can have the lemonade,” she said, handing the two bottles to him and shutting the door, relieving him of that cold that would have been refreshing if it had been brief instead of constantly bombarding him while she held the door open.

The bottles weren’t made of glass, like he would have expected.  He had no idea what this was, and he watched the bubbling drink and the yellow drink slosh around inside as she pulled them up to the counter.  He was momentarily distracted and forgot she’d mentioned she was getting something else, but was now dragging them over to pay.

“I’d like to buy these two drinks, and two ice cream cones, please!” she said, leaning up against the counter on her tip-toes with Levi just behind her holding the drinks.  The man glanced skeptically at Levi again, who just gazed steadily back at him in silence, the two bottles held tightly in his hands.  He looked at the boxey...thing, in front of him, touched a few things that made strange noises to Levi, and then turned back to Y/N with a polite smile.

“That’ll be six seventy-four, little missy.”

Y/N dug around in her back, pulling out one faded green paper looking thing, and then another, and then reached back in to pull out a handful of coins, pushing them around in her hand and placing nine coins on the counter, pushing them over to him and dumping the rest into her bag.

“There you go,” she said as the man counted back over what she’d handed him, then put it in a drawer with a nod.

“Go ahead and get your ice cream,” he said, nodding down towards some strange thing at the end of the counter.

Y/N took the bottles from Levi and placed them in her bag, heading over to the thing at the end of the counter, grabbing yet another thing Levi didn’t recognize that was in a cone shape and dark brown, and she reached up and pulled down on a lever.  Something thick and light brown came out, with Y/N’s tongue sticking out as she tried carefully to layer it before she pulled the lever back up, stopping the flow and handing it over to Levi.

“That one’s mine, don’t eat it.  It might be too sugary for you,” she said before grabbing another cone and doing the same thing at a different spot.  This time what came out was clear white, and she managed to be a little neater with what she was doing before she handed that one to Levi and took the brown one from him.

“Have a nice day,” the man called automatically as they passed the counter for the door.

“You too!” Y/N called, and then they left, re-entering the heat of the outside world.

Levi simply stared at the treat she’d put in his hands, seeing it start to glisten in the sun and able to feel how surprisingly cold it was.  Like those red things she’d given him that one time.  Beside him, Y/N started licking hers, apparently doing so in a very specific way to try and keep it from melting past her fingers, since she had to catch a few drops that started to trickle past the edge.  Levi hesitantly followed suit, unsure if it was something he would like...

It was freezing cold, and sweet, but not so much that he pulled back.  It tasted...well...he wasn’t sure how to describe it.  It was good, though.  And once more, he found himself associating something he was experiencing on the surface with clean because oddly enough that was the best he could do for describing the ice cream, as she’d called it.

Following her lead on how to eat it and knowing better than to bite into it after his experience with the red frozen treat, the two of them leaned against the wall and ate their ice cream until all that was left was the cone.  Apparently that was an edible thing, since she crunched right through it and quickly ate it, too.  It tasted similar to a cookie, actually, as he ate it.  Not sweet like the ice cream, and a nice crunchy compliment.

When they were done with their ice cream, Y/N retrieved her bike, wheeling it around so it was facing the direction they’d come from.  “All right--to the conservation site,” she said cheerfully, finding her balance on the bike again as Levi grumbled under his breath, reluctantly resuming the position on the handlebars.

Next time she better come up with a better way to travel, because he wasn’t too keen on this arrangement.

Their wobbly trip was longer this time, and more laborious considering this time she had to bike them up a hill this time, which she gave up on not even halfway through when she almost veered and lost balance while trying to struggle up the hill.

“All right, this isn’t going to work, we’re walking up this hill,” she huffed, waiting for Levi to hop off before she got off as well, walking beside the bike and guiding it by the handlebars.

“Well, at least most of the distance was easier to cover,” she said with a sigh, reaching into her pack and handing him the Sprite bottle as they reached the crest of the hill.  It was somewhat nostalgic, coming back up here, with the memory of the long grass, the meadow and the pond with the berries and the wildlife.  The only thing that was missing was slightly more forgiving weather and her carrying him, which he wasn’t about to let her do since he was perfectly capable of walking himself this time.

“I can actually swim, now, so we could jump in the pond.  Mom wouldn’t be too happy with me getting my clothes wet, but it would be fun!” she suggested cheerfully.

“I can’t swim,” Levi returned bluntly.  He’d most likely just be watching her bob around the entire time if she went through with that.

“Dang it...well, we can just stick our feet in the water, again, then,” she said, easily brushing off the disappointment as they crested the hill and she guided her bike off to the side into the rocks.  Kicking the metal bar to lean it against again, she left it on the side of the road, pushing aside grass that wasn’t as tall as he remembered and gesturing for him to follow her once more to the pond.

Just like they had before, they dangled their feet in the water, and Levi took the chance to clean up any traces of ice cream that might have lingered on his face and wash away any dirt on his person.  Meanwhile, Y/N was simply playing with the bottle of lemonade, watching him and waiting expectantly for him to try the Sprite so she knew if they had to switch drinks or not.  Once Levi felt relatively clean, he followed the instructions of the little white arrows painted on top of the lid and twisted it open, hearing the bottle hiss at him as the air escaped and the drink inside bubbled drastically before settling down again.  He glanced at Y/N, who was still waiting for him to try it, and, based off his past experience of trying the foods and drinks she gave him, started small with a little sip.

He pulled back a bit from the bottle, unsure how he felt about it.  It was clear and sharp and refreshing, but the bubbles...well, he wasn’t used to his drinks being fizzy, and it threw him off.  Maybe he would adjust to it?  He’d probably ask for something more normal if they did this again, though.

Seeing that Levi was keeping his bottle, Y/N happily started on her own drink, taking big gulps before putting the lid back on and throwing herself back on the ground with a pleased sigh.

“I love summer,” she said, eyes closed as she soaked in the heat from the sun’s rays.  Levi stayed quiet, watching the birds across the pond hoping around and pecking at the ground in search of bugs or worms.  The water rippled occasionally from small fish coming close to the surface, and the breeze ruffled his hair and cooled him down slightly from the heat of the sun.  He felt like a little kid again, looking around at a bright and new world.

Well, technically he still was a kid, but really, he’d grown up a long time ago.  Yet every time he came up here...he felt like a kid again.  And he felt much lighter and carefree.  It just made him all the more determined to find his way to the surface.

*Reader’s POV*

It was dark and damp in the place that you were hiding, your sobbing echoing around the large metal tube and a small trickle of water at the bottom getting parts of your pants and shoes wet.  It smelled musty and terrible down here, and you’d be colder if it wasn’t for the medium sized dog that was pressed against your side and partially in your lap.  Your greyhound black lab Sabrina was attempting to comfort you, giving a few licks on your cheeks.

It was the middle of the night, and you were tucked away in a storm drain, cold night air whistling down the tunneled space.  You’d been down here for a while now, and you didn’t know what to do.  You were lost, practically alone, hungry, and scared, and it was your own doing.

Footsteps echoed down the storm drain, splashing water with each step, and you scrambled to your feet, ready to bolt from the stranger in the drain.

“Why are you down here?”

You relaxed considerably at the familiar voice, wiping the tears from your face as he drew close enough for you to make out features in the dim light provided by your flashlight.  “Levi?” you said with another sniffle.  Sabrina got on all fours and put herself between you and the stranger, starting to growl and causing Levi to pause before you pet her head and neck to calm her down and told her to sit and settle.  She calmed down and allowed Levi to draw closer, though he was much more careful now.

You were still mid distraught crying, but he’d asked what was happening, and this was your chance to ask for some help and get what was happening off of your chest.  After a few more sniffles and wiping at your tears to get yourself under control enough you could speak again, you attempted to explain what you were doing crying in a storm drain with a dog in the middle of the night.

“My parents are splitting up.  I want to stay with my dad, but I’m going with my mom cause I’m apparently too young to decide.  And I thought...I thought if I-I ran away…” God, now that you were saying it out loud, you could hear how stupid this whole idea had been.  “That they might get back together while they were looking for me,” you finished in a very small voice.

You’d done it in a distraught panic, honestly.  Clearly you didn’t have enough food smuggled into  your backpack, because you were already out of food.  You’d at least thought protection, which ended up coming in the form of Sabrina and a tiny pocket knife you got from your grandfather a year ago.  Now you were here with five bucks, a dog, a pocket knife, no food, no blankets or pillows, a stuffed animal, a book, a game, and the feeling that you were absolutely--

“Are you stupid?”

You blinked in surprise when you heard Levi say it aloud, immediately blushing and hiding your face in shame as he said the very thing you’d come to realize but hadn’t wanted to admit out loud.  This whole idea had been a stupid plan, and you’d executed it horribly, resulting in this mess.

“For someone so smart, it was stupid thinking running away was going to solve your problem,” he continued to scold you, coming to a stop just beside you and looking down on you with you could only assume to be some harsh judgment.  “All running from your problems is going to do is make things worse.  Your parents aren’t going to magically get back together because you’re missing.  They’ll likely fight more.”

You hated how right he was.  They were probably blaming each other, if you knew them well enough.  This was really something you should have thought through before bolting when you did.  You were curling into yourself with every word he said, and as much as you hated hearing him say it, you knew he was right, and he had a point.  You never should have tried running from your problems.  You should have tried to say something and made them listen.  Running was only making things worse for everyone.

You felt his foot kick you--not hard enough to be mean or painful, but enough to get you to move and look up at him, tear streaks still on your face.  “Are you going to sit there feeling sorry for yourself, or are you going to get up and head home?”

You wiped your face one more time, getting shakily to your feet.  Your dog followed suit, standing expectantly at your side as you gathered your mostly empty bag.  You didn’t have anything else, so you were ready for a walk of shame back home.  There was only one problem.

“I don’t know how to get there.  I got lost.  And...and I’ve overheard Mom and Dad talking about a white van going around taking kids, so...That’s why I’ve been down here.  Once I didn’t know where I was,” you said in a quiet voice  Suddenly very aware of the terrible situation you’d put yourself in.

Levi was staring hard at you.  His expression was blank, and he was still, but you could see him processing the information and deciding what to do next.  Suddenly, he reached out and grasped your wrist, pulling you forward and towards the mouth of the storm drain.

“Standing around feeling sorry for yourself won’t get you anywhere,” he muttered, dragging you along with Sabrina following on her leash.  “You can recognize the area your house is in, right?”

You nodded hesitantly.  Moving to the suburbs had its drawbacks.  No more were you surrounded by diverse streets, houses, and buildings--everything here was uniform, with rows of streets and houses that looked identical to you.

But what he said about feeling sorry about yourself was also right.  So instead of thinking of what you couldn’t do, you wracked your brain for what you could do.  You knew the name of the section of houses you stayed in, and what the park looked like, and the number on your house.  You could also recognize one of the biking paths that ran along the edge of the housing area.  So you had some landmarks you could recognize.  If all else failed, there was the pool center or the school that you could recognize without hesitation, and if you waited long enough there, maybe someone could get you home.  You knew your phone number.  You had options.

Levi got you both to the mouth of the storm drain, and he stopped, staring at the sight in front of him.  The last time you’d seen Levi, you’d been living on the east coast.  Now you were in the southwest, and you’d gone from a lush green temperate climate to the desert.  It was like he’d never seen the desert and was trying to process the entire change of terrain.

“Where the hell…”

Now he was the one just standing there, and you realized that if you’d still been living where you had before, he’d be able to recognize streets and houses and the like as well.  He hadn’t been here before--this was all new to him.  He was even more lost than you were.  At least he was still making an effort.

You tugged him towards the slopes behind you.  “That’s definitely not the right way.  We have to go back to the houses,” you said, the two of you struggling up the steep slope and back onto the bike path you’d been following aimlessly before ending up here.  You hesitated there, swinging your flashlight both ways before choosing to go left.  “I’m pretty sure I came from this way.  We can follow it until I recognize one of the town names.”

*Levi’s POV*

Levi let Y/N tell him where he needed to go, considering this was an entirely new area to him.  He hadn’t even heard of barren land like this above ground, with just sand stretching out as far as the eye could see, and everything in earthen shades.  It was completely different from where she’d been living previously, yet she didn’t seem phased by the strange sights.  So, Levi tried to ignore the oddity of the landscape and let her give any signals for where they needed to go as needed.  However, he stayed in the lead, holding tightly to her wrist with one hand as she crowded close to him, her dog trailing right behind her as they walked with their sides almost pressed up against one another.

Her comment about kids being taken in the area had him even more on edge than he would have been.  Already he was keeping his head on a swivel and his eyes peeled since they were two kids traveling alone at night in a strange place, but her piece of information had his free hand consistently hovering near where he kept his knife on him.  At the first sign of trouble, he was ready to draw it to protect her, but he was keeping it concealed for now in order to keep from panicking Y/N.  She was already distraught enough over her situation, he didn’t want to upset her anymore.  Even now, he could feel her burying her face in his shoulder to try and hide a fresh wave of tears.  He didn’t say a word about it, continuing to guide them steadily forward along their path despite the tension in the air.

He still couldn’t believe she’d been foolish enough to get herself in this situation.  He’d known she was a little...naïve about the more dangerous parts of the world, but this was just…

Levi let out a soft sigh, reconsidering his stance on popping the protective bubble she seemed to be secured inside.  If naivety was going to lead to her doing something like this, maybe she needed a bit of a wake up call.  Horrible people lurked in dark places at night, and she was an easy target.  He wasn’t, but she was, and she was lucky she hadn’t been snatched in the time she’d been out by herself.

Right now wasn’t the time to disrupt that little protective bubble, though.  She was scared enough, shaking and crying as she clung to his arm, the hand he had on her wrist giving it a small squeeze of reassurance in the hopes that it might help calm her down.

They followed the path long enough Levi started to worry that she had no idea where they were still, and was simply leading them even further away from her home.  Eventually, though, she pulled on Levi’s arm to get his attention, bringing him to a stop a few paces away from a fork that they had passed that the other path had twisted into an opening in a stone fence that led to rows and rows of identical houses.

“I recognize that name,” she said, pointing towards the words scrawled on a sign just in front of the entrance.  “It’s not the area I live in, but it’s close,” she commented, looking far more attentively around the area.

“How close?”

“I think...one over from where my house is.  There should be another section that starts with C, and then it’ll be mind.  If I can find the park, I’ll know the way home,” she said.

Good, then they were heading the right way.

Levi urged her forward, surprised by how...quiet it was out here.  Besides their footsteps, he didn’t really hear any other sounds.  Maybe the occasional voice from someone outside their home late at night, or a closing door, but he wasn’t hearing much in the way of wildlife like he would where Y/N had lived before.  The loudest thing was their footsteps, which was a little disconcerting.

“You’re not going to do something stupid like this again, are you?” Levi asked as they continued to walk.  He just wanted to make sure what he’d said got through her head, and she would know better from now on.

She nodded emphatically at his side, holding a little tighter to him as they continued forward.  Well, hopefully she /would/ be a little smarter about this kind of thing in the future.  Time would tell.

They continued their trip in relative silence besides Y/N’s occasional sniffles, with Levi staying protectively in front of her the entire way until at long last, after finding their way to the park she’d mentioned, they turned onto the street she said her house was on.  There was one of those horseless carriages in front of the house she said was hers, a stark white one with blue markings and something red and blue and clear on top.  On either side of the carriage was two men in black uniforms having some solemn discussion over the top of the low carriage.  The sight made Y/N shrink beside him, and for a moment, Levi thought it might be trouble.  Before he could draw his knife, she spoke up.

“My parents must have called the police,” she mumbled, the embarrassment clear in her voice.

He was pretty sure that wasn’t the uniform of the Military Police, but she didn’t seem to be panicked over the sight of them, just embarrassed and shrinking into herself.  He still stayed on guard as they drew closer, the two men noticing them as they drew closer.

“Are you kids lost?” one of them asked while Y/N was still mostly hidden by Levi standing in front of her.  However, she stepped out enough to be seen with Sabrina trailing behind her, her cheeks burning red as she spoke in a voice so quiet Levi thought the two might not have heard her at first.

“I live here,” she mumbled.

“Y/N L/N?” the other one asked as they both straightened, getting a better look at her as they drew just a little closer.  She nodded, and her grip on Levi’s arm loosened slightly as she moved hesitantly forward, pulling the dog along with her.  The two men approached, and Levi tensed, expecting trouble.  “Your parents have been worried sick, where have you…”

Y/N pulled out of his grip, apparently perfectly fine with the two strangers in front of her house.  Maybe surface police looked different?  That didn’t make any sense to him, but she seemed pretty sure, no hesitation as she approached them.  For a moment, as Y/N pulled free of Levi’s grip and both of the officers got on either side of her to make sure she was all right and take her inside, their backs were to Levi, only for a moment.  But that moment was all it took.  In a moment that was becoming quite familiar to him, Levi blinked, and the scene disappeared, and he was standing in the middle of the street in the Underground.

This, he wasn’t okay with.  He didn’t even get to see her safely through the door to her home, didn’t even get to make sure those men really were safe.  What if they hadn’t been?  What if they had been kidnappers or something worse?  What if he’d just left her in more danger than he’d found her?  He didn’t know enough about the surface to feel confident that she was going to be all right until she walked through the door to her home, and he didn’t get that luxury.

He was going to be worried sick about her until he saw her again, which, hopefully, would be soon.  He had to know she was all right.

Levi’s gaze was drawn to one of the stairwells to the surface, and his gaze intensified, expression contemplative.

Perhaps, for once, he could find his way to the surface and look for her himself.  If he was careful, he might be able to stay out of reach of the military police above ground long enough to find where she lived.  He knew what it looked like now.

But first he had to get up that stairway...

Next Chapter---->

(Strikethroughs Couldn’t Be Tagged)

Tags:   @humanitys-hottestsoldier​ @artist-bby @kaz2y5-pie​ @tartheyes​ @super-peace-fangirl​ @huntersbunker​ @nefelimalfoy​ @soft-levi-girl-blog​ @honeygivemeachainsaw @regalillegal​ @sugas-daddy7​ @cathyannecookie @chaoticshepardplaid​

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn​ 

[drumboydowoon]

Woof Woof | Stray Kids Au

Chapter One / Misunderstandings in Kinkshaming

Werewolf!Chan au

Warnings / swearing, kink and sex mention, this isn’t smut I promise, mature themes

Words / 4k+

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Working at the convenience corner store wasn’t the most ideal place to be, but what else is a broke college student to do? So the only thing you can do is suck it up and deal with another unpleasant night of boredom. 

Nothing exciting happened, only what you would expect to happen in an almost unknown store. The customers would avoid any kind of small talk, so they could get out of there and on with their lives. 

There were a few exceptions, however. Every once in a while, some drunk or other douche waltzed into the store for more booze and a phone number from the very unlucky cashier, which happened to be you. Of course, you’ve had to tell them off and from time to time, threatened to call management if they continued to harass you. Adventures in working the evening to night shift were always a joy. 

The only highlight of your night was when two of your favorite idiots walked in. Suddenly the room lit up and it became a party. A very sad pity party of three. 

Once they’ve come through the sliding doors, the sensors ring throughout the building. You greet them with a small smile and wave of your hand. Jisung was the first to wave back happily (and a little too enthusiastically). Minho stuck with something more simple and opted for a quick glance and smile of his own. 

Usually they only come in for snacks and other “boy’s night in” necessities. But every once in a while, they come for some things that are very… odd. At least for college boys that never go out and do anything. It seemed normal at first, but the more it happened, the more you began to question it.

Each month, the two of them would stride in and grab one of the carrying baskets. Completely normal. Watching them head straight for the freezer section and then proceed to struggle to pack their basket full of meat was a little weird, though. Afterwards, Minho strayed away from Jisung to come back with some cheap doggy bowls, which you didn’t even know you had in stock. And to bring their shopping trip to a conclusion, they both came to the cash register by slamming two cases of water bottles onto the counter, along with their basket that’s nearly overfilled.

“Doing weird shit again tonight, boys?” you ask as you begin the long process of scanning their seemingly endless items. 

Jisung chuckles and scratches the nape of his neck, “Well, you know how grandma is… She just always craves a good steak and gallons of water to wash it down,” he answers with his smart ass attitude. 

“Alright, little red riding hood. Make sure you tell ‘grandma’ hello for me, or should I say the big bad wolf?,” there’s a sarcastic tone in your voice, but you end with a small laugh anyways. 

Every time you dared to ask what they were doing with these things, they managed to come up with some ridiculous answer (or excuse) that somehow amused you. Of course it would only increase your curiosity about what they were actually up to every one day in the month, though. You can only wait for the day that they finally tell you what they're doing. 

Jisung momentarily chokes, “I-I’m sorry wolf--?”

Minho elbows the side of his friend and clears his own throat, “That’s just some silly fairy tale,” he rolls his eyes, “Jisung just has some really weird relatives,” he jokes. His voice is a little darker than before, “Trust me, you don’t want to meet them.” A shudder is sent down your spine. Sure his words seem lighthearted, but something in his tone makes you believe that he really means it. 

Jisung nods and agrees, “Yeah, my family’s just-- Hey, wait!”, he cuts himself off as he realizes he’s being insulted. Laughing at the both of them, you finish scanning the rest of their things and ring up their total.

Minho glares at Jisung, then looks back to you. Minho pulls out his wallet and hands over the amount that was due while his murderous intent was still focused on his poor Jisung. You wondered what he could’ve done wrong to earn the wrath of the older boy, but it’s best you don’t interfere. After that, he quickly gathers the heavy plastic bags and makes Jisung carry the water cases. 

“We have to get going now,” he announces just when he’s about to start walking away. But Minho pauses for a moment in thought. He takes a few steps back and glances at you with a coy smile, “Hey, do you maybe want to hang out sometime soon?” he asks.

The request catches you off guard at first. Mr. brooding and quiet, actually asking you to hang out? Unheard of. “Uhm… sure,” you respond a little awkwardly and unsure. It’s not like you didn’t want to, you’re just surprised is all. Not only that, it was also strange since you’re literally going to see him and everyone else later tonight. 

Jisung snorts loudly as Minho shyly averts his gaze (most likely internalizing the cringe). “Okay, nice… ” Minho blurted out before rushing out with a laughing Jisung in tow, who was sure to face the death penalty as soon as they were out of eyesight. Poor poor Jisung. 

“See you later!” you call out to them, but the sliding glass door already slid closed by the time you were able to fully get your words out. Sighing deeply, you shrug your shoulders in indifference. They’ll see you later at the house. Then maybe you can ask about their activities and what was up with the weird farewell. 

For now, all you can do is wait for the time to pass by and pray you don’t lose your mind. 

--------

By the time your shift ended, the sun was already going down. Letting out a long tired breath of air, you look at the time and wonder if you should really stop by Felix’s, or if you should go back to the dorms and give him the notes he missed in the morning. 

You silently debated in your head as you grabbed your backpack from the break room and proceeded to head out to the back of the building, where your bike was locked up. One thought, two thoughts, three thoughts...

It’s decided a moment later that you would ride over to Felix’s place. It’s not like you had anything better to do on a Friday night, anyways. It wasn’t ideal to pedal all the way to the house considering that he and his friend’s live quite a distance away. But if you’re lucky (and if he values your friendship) he’ll let you stay the night. And in the morning, perhaps he can convince his oldest roommate to drive you home. 

After unlocking your bike, you begin riding off towards Felix’s house. Before you took off, you texted him, telling him that you were on your way, but he never responded. Maybe he was doing something at the time, which isn't a big deal. He knows that you’re coming over anyways. 

Even if he doesn’t answer, one of his roommates is bound to be home. He lives with three other guys that hardly ever go out. Jisung and Minho moved into the almost mansion sized house at the beginning of the year. One day, out of the blue, they decided not to live in the student housing anymore. Instead, they wanted to live with Felix and their sugar daddy, Chan, who lets them stay by barely paying for anything. 

Chan is the oldest roommate, who you’re the least close with and hardly know whatsoever. He’s also the owner of the house they all live in. He’s nice enough, but you’ve only spoken with him a handful of times. Sometimes it feels like he avoids you, but you try not to let it bother you too much. You have the other three boys to keep you company when you’re over.

You didn’t even realize that you were lost in your thoughts at first. It’s just that the bike ride was taking so long, that you had nothing better to do. Pedaling for over an hour was exhausting, but since you’ve done it nearly everyday, you were used to it by now.

Before long, you could see the gates that lead to the property the house is on. Each time you saw the fenced off private property, you couldn’t help but be in awe of it. In short, the area is huge. So huge that you can’t even see the house yet because you still have to go through their forested front yard that was a mile long, before you actually reached the house. How anyone could afford such a massive place that was also gorgeous, was beyond you. 

It took a couple of minutes until you finally made it to the house’s driveway. The first thing you can recognize is Chan’s beat up car sadly parked in front of the garage. Then your gaze drifts to the unidentified motorcycle sitting next to the van. As you can recall, no one here owned a two wheel vehicle, except for Felix’s red bicycle that’s been thrown haphazardly thrown into the bushes. 

After walking up to the door, you knock, then wait… then wait… and wait some more.  You knock again, this time louder.... There’s still no response. It’s a little strange. Clearly someone’s in the house. Everyone looks like their home and there’s lights on.

Sighing, you tap your foot impatiently. Finally you decide to look in the flower pot that sat alone next to the door. There the spare house key was found, that was supposed to be used in emergencies. This isn’t necessarily an emergency, but if no one’s home and Felix made you ride your bike all the way to Nowhereville, then you’re going to be seriously pissed off. In that case, you’re leaving a very harshly worded note. 

As you unlock the door and enter the house, you notice that it’s eerily dark in the front room, which is unusual since the boys are almost always still awake lazing around on the couches. You quietly click the door shut and slowly move through the unlit room and towards the stairs where the lit up bedrooms were.

About to walk up the stairs, you’re stopped in your tracks as you begin to hear a strange noise. At first, you think you hear someone, who sounds almost exactly like Minho, telling someone, who also sounds almost exactly like Jisung, to shut up very loudly.

Following shortly after, there’s something that sounds somewhat like a rumbling, or perhaps it’s a growl. You’re pretty sure the boys don’t own any pets. It must be the darkness and the quiet messing with your mind. Maybe it’s the boys and they’re playing video games or something. 

It sounds like the voices are coming from the basement, so you step down from the stairs you were previously about to walk up, and head to the basement door by the kitchen. Once the door opens, you take one step down and call out, “Hello? Anyone home?” Then you take another step down and the staircase creaks along with it. 

It must have caught someone’s attention because in an instant there’s shoes thudding hastily towards you. Soon the familiar head of lightly dyed orange hair belonging to none other than Han Jisung, rounds the corner of the staircase. As soon as his eyes lock on you from below, he’s jumping in surprise. His face is pale and his forehead is covered in sweat, so his hair looks messily matted. Your heart beats a little faster at the sight. Him looking scared for some unknown reason, was making your own anxiety peek around the corner.

Jisung’s sudden appearance makes you pause and stare at him. Before you could even say a word or take another step forward, Jisung rushes up to you, making you flinch back at the unexpected movement. His arms spread out to either side of the walls to completely block you off. 

Out of breath, he chuckles nervously, “H-hey there, Y/n! When did you get here??” his voice is jittery. It’s suspicious. 

You furrow your brows at his behavior. “Hey..? Just got here… Is everything okay down there?” you ask, trying to find a way past him. There’s worry lacing itself into your words. Something doesn’t seem right. 

Jisung’s voice cracks, “Yeah, everything’s fine here! Why wouldn’t it be?” He’s too quick to answer. His gaze keeps wandering from you and hastily down the stairs, even though you can’t see anything from here.

“Jisung...” you warn in a stern voice. It’s clear that he’s hiding something from you. He’s not exactly the best at lying, unfortunately for him. 

“Y/n…” he says back in a mocking tone that makes you frown at him.

Then another odd sound resounds in the room and up the stairs. Even when listening closely, it’s difficult to precisely make out what it is. It almost sounds like a person, but it almost doesn’t at the same time. The noise is deep and rumbling, like before when you first heard it in the front room. 

The gutturaling shoots a strange sense throughout your body. Suddenly your chest pounds more than when you first entered. There’s unease going through your mind. You wonder if it’s actually a good idea to go downstairs. But then there’s a throaty whimper that follows shortly after, which affirms your determination to see what it is making the noise. 

“Alright let me through,” you demand, trying to push past Jisung, however each time you try to advance, he moves to block you from going any further. You scoff at his childish behavior, “It sounds like someone is hurt. Get out of my way.” 

“I can’t let you do that,” he struggles to say as he tries to fight against you. 

“Get out of the way,” you repeat, attempting to pull his arms down and out of the way. 

“No!”

Finally, you overpower him and push his arms out of your way. Roughly, you shove past him. You descend down the steps quickly before Jisung can make another effort to stop you. 

Jisung hurriedly follows after you. Alas, his attempts proved fruitless when he realized that you already reached the bottom of the stairs before he could get to you. Though he couldn’t stop you from getting past him, he could try to save your innocent eyes before it was too late as a last effort. 

Seconds before you can even glimpse at the scene, Jisung hurries to cover your vision with his hands. Like when he tried to stop you from going downstairs, he failed to keep your eyes covered for long. Immediately you shrug his hold off of you and give him a disappointing frown.

Once you’re able to see what’s in front of you, it takes you a couple of moments to fully process it. After blinking once, then twice, you almost wished that Jisung still was protecting your vision. This was just flat out disturbing. 

First there’s Felix to the left, then Chan to the right. A little further away, sat a long dark haired boy that you couldn’t identify yet. Metal chains wrapped around their wrists and connected to the concrete wall behind them. With each pull from one of the boys, the chains rattled and clicked against each other. They pulled against the chains as if they were trying to escape, but it was impossible. 

Each one of them looked utterly exhausted as sweat dripped off of them and onto the cold grey floor. Dark bags were formed under their eyes as far as you could tell. You were mostly basing this off of seeing Chan’s face and part of Felix’s downturned gaze. The third member was unreadable since his head hung low and his hair covered most of his expression. But overall, they look like shit. 

Their eyes… looking closely you slowly begin to realize that they don’t look normal. Chan’s usual dark brown eyes were no longer there, and were instead replaced with a shade that surely wasn’t normal. They were the brightest yellow you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost like they were glowing in the barely lit room. The little golden glow reminded you of the stars, and nearly captivated you. 

What snaps you out of your trance is steel smacking down onto the ground. When you search for the source, you see Minho standing in the corner of the room. Had he always been standing there, or were you too busy trying to process what was in front of you to realize that he was there? 

Looking down, you notice one of the doggy bowls he purchased earlier. The contents spill out of the bowl while the bowl continues to settle down. The meat flops onto the floor and stains the concrete beneath it. It smells raw and appears raw. 

Looking back to Minho now, you see his expression. He looks like he’s just seen a ghost, and that ghost happens to be you. His jaw drops as he stammers to say something, anything. It must’ve been an illusion right? Minho was sure that he was just imagining you and that you’re not actually here right now. There’s no way that you’re currently witnessing the secret that they’ve all been trying to keep from you and the rest of the world, right? Nope, no way. Impossible.

He blinks once more. You’re still standing there. He’s freaking out, Jisung’s freaking out, and you’re about to start freaking out yourself. Everyone’s freaking out. So before you can fully freak out, Minho hurryingly marches up to you, “Y/n, it… it’s not what it looks like. I can explain. I-”

“You guys are into some freaky shit…” you breathe out in a barely audible whisper. You continue to stare on at the scene. It hardly registers in your mind the chained up boys are snarling and staring right back at you now. 

Minho keeps rambling excuses, but he pauses once he hears you. He backtracks, “I’m sorry, what?” He glances at Jisung momentarily. In return, the younger boy just shrugs tensely. 

This time you stare at Minho with a blank expression, “I said you guys are into some freaky shit… If this is some sex dungeon, it’s really fucked up…” you inform him. You swallow anxiously. 

Both Minho and Jisung look at each other, then back to you. Standing directly in front of you now, Minho blocks your view from the three chained up boys. He places his hands on your shoulders tightly. He’s ready to explain a few things then make you go back upstairs until they can get everything sorted out. 

You had different plans, however. Instead of listening to what he had to say, you pushed Minho’s arms off of you. It was your god given right to blow up over what’s in front of you. Sweat drips down your forehead and each breath comes out uneven. Your heart accelerates in, not only fear, but pure, untampered rage as well. 

“What the hell is all of this?!” you screech in his face unintentionally, which immediately panics both parties standing around you. You were so calm before, so your sudden explosion took them by surprise. 

Jisung is quick to hush, “Y/n, be quiet, please…!” he raspingly mumbles. He continues to eye both you and the three boys warily. The rattling metal from the wall becomes slightly more frequent and louder. 

You being in such a frenzied state, did not listen of course.

Instead your voice is louder than before, “What is this?!” you repeat, “Is this really some weird freaky sex dungeon?!” you question angrily, confused, and among other things. 

You glance to wearily three behind Minho. It was hard to believe what you were seeing. You kept praying that you somehow got hit by a car on your way over, and now you’re having some weird coma dream that you would wake up from soon. The nerves and adrenaline felt too real to be a dream, though. 

“Like who’s into chaining people to the wall and making them eat raw meat from a doggy bowl?!” you throw your hands up as you gesture to the knocked over bowl on the ground, “ A goddamn doggy bowl!” you throw your hands up as you gesture towards the spilled over bowl on the ground. 

A low growl interrupts your interrogation. It come from Chan, who, might you add, didn’t look right in the mind at all. Before, you never noticed it, but now that you were eyes were jumping around the room, you finally see it. There’s a pill bottle sitting on a table over on the other side of the room. 

Your eyes widen as you suddenly come to a conclusion, “Oh my god…” you gasp in shock, then look between Minho and Jisung, “Did you drug them?” it comes out as more of a shocked whisper than your previous shouts. 

Did you just walk right into the middle of a crime? Two of your closest friends, drugging people are dragging them to the basement for whatever weird sick purposes… was unbelievable. But you couldn’t deny the sight in front of you.

There’s a much longer rant lingering at the back of your throat, but Minho places a hand over your mouth before a peep gets out. A harsh glare is etched on his face as he tells you to shut up. Your immediate reaction is to shove his hand off of you, but the look he is giving you tells you that it’s best not to. 

He lifts a finger up to his lips and wordlessly quiets you. After a moment, Minho cautiously removes his hand off your lips and sighs. “Listen, I know this looks really bad, but I can explain everything. I just need you to calm down,” he tells you “And, as for you,” he pointedly says as he gives Jisung a harsh glare, “I can’t believe you just let her come down here!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that Y/n showed up out of the blue! She’s the one who almost pushed me down the stairs to get here!” Jisung defends himself. 

“You could’ve at least tried a little harder! I mean how hard is it to--”

A loud metal snap from behind Minho is what interrupts him next. Suddenly, the room becomes completely silent with the exception of the low growling that is heard throughout the room. Immediately, your gaze fixes itself on the source of the noise and what, or rather who, it was coming from. 

You nervously look and see exactly who it’s coming from, and it didn’t even really look like him anymore. There, Felix stands, with the chains that were previously secured on his wrists, now broken off in half. How is that possible? That’s what you want to know.

Many times, you’ve seen Felix when he was in a bad mood. He didn’t look nice then, and he certainly doesn’t look any nicer now. The only difference between then and now is the fact that your best friend looks absolutely terrifying. The cold sweat runs down your back as he breathes in and out heavily. The atmosphere becomes thick and heavy. It’s getting harder to breathe properly. 

There’s a hunger in his unnaturally golden glowing eyes, one that you’ve never seen before in another person. It’s nearly animalistic how ready he looks to pounce on one of you. This isn’t the Felix you know. This isn’t your Felix, your goofy friend, who makes you laugh at the dumbest things. This is some kind of beast standing before you.

Besides you, Jisung is tense and shaking so much that you can almost hear his teeth clattering. In front of you, Minho is frozen solid. It takes him a moment to build up the courage to look behind him. He slowly cranes his neck in Felix's direction, who stands not too far behind him. He gulps anxiously. Then he turns back to you with his grip much tighter than before. 

“Don’t. Move…” he mouths to both of you shakily. Everything is silent. The only sound is the rugged breathing that hangs in the air.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Desperation, Baby! (coda to 15x19 “Inherit the Earth”, Dean & Lucifer, Dean/Cas, 2.3k, T)

ao3 link

Death took her sweet time parsing through Chuck's book, meaning Lucifer spent longer than he'd like surrounded by his former vessel, his brother, his son, and a man whose obvious longing made him want to vomit. Instead of returning with his prize, Chuck welcoming him back, he must waste his valuable time playing 'nice; with those he can't stand.

Not that it matters. They don't trust him, each member of this ragtag group of survivors watching Lucifer in shifts. Never leaving him alone.

It's Dean's turn now, and he's driving Lucifer up a wall by doing nothing at all save for broadcasting a never-ending supply of feeling. Can he cut the signal without showing his hand, or put Dean's heart to good use?

           It’s pathetic, truly. Lucifer huffs, deflating, sinking further into his seat. Weighed down by obscene amounts of longing that poured freely off Dean like a broken hydrant. Funneled into his awareness because its usual drain was cordoned forever. It flooded these now silent angelic air waves, Lucifer growing more annoyed with each, excruciating second. Until, finally, “Holy hell, can you please quit it?”

           Dean startles from where he stood, jaw tensing. Mouth flattening in a thin line as he glares, “What?”

           “Quit. It. Quitit!” He hisses, leaning forward. Stretches his arms across the table, reaching for Dean. Fingers twitching, Lucifer imagines Dean’s neck between them. “Seriously, you’re giving me a migraine with all your feelings.”

           “Good.” Dean surprises Lucifer with his response. No attempted denial, nor misdirection. His gaze unflinchingly pierced through Lucifer’s vessel, pride bolstering its blow. Lucifer cannot detect any shame that usually clings to his soul, none of that smell lingering. He’s grown since they’ve last seen each other. Stunning character development. “Deserve it, after that dick move you pulled earlier.”

           “You still upset about that?” Scoffing, Lucifer rises. Meanders across the room towards Dean, gaze never straying. Easy since it’s only them. “I thought my gift would have more than made up for that.” He grins, rocking on his heels. A breadth of space separates them now. “How else was I supposed to get in, anyway?” he continues, “Not like if I called as myself you’d’ve rolled out the welcome mat.”

           “But… Cas?” Lucifer savors the taste of his brother’s name, drenched in sadness. Ripped from Dean’s heart in a barely controlled sob.

           “Nasty habit,” he giggles, “Though the results speak for themselves. I mean – you know how easy it was smooth-talking little Sammy when I looked like his ol’ flame, Jess?” Dean doesn’t laugh, snarled lip suffocating Lucifer’s airy mirth. “You’re no fun.”

           “Sorry,” Dean growls, “why don’t you try later when the world’s not ending.”

           “It’s always ending. In one way or another.” Lucifer waves his hand and a chair drags itself over. He straddles it, gazing up at Dean. “If we waited for peace to enjoy life, there’d be no time. Better to… say what’s in your heart, even if it kills you.” He frowns, mockingly, “Or in Castiel’s case… did kill him.”

           Dean slams his fist against the wall. “You have no right –“

           “Timeout there,” Lucifer smirks, eyes glowing red. Reflection of Dean’s entire face, blood rapidly swelling his cheeks. “Don’t want to do anything you’ll regret…” He holds Dean there, frozen, waits until the other man seems calm. Dips his head, tries catching Dean’s gaze. “If I let you go, will you behave?” Dean remains silent, yet Lucifer hears him. Tunes into his frequency, actively sifting through his frenzied emotions. “Seriously,” he lets Dean go, hunter falling on his ass, “how are we supposed to work as a team if you’re not willing to cooperate?”

           “This… isn’t a team,” Dean spits, “you’re working… with the Empty.”

           “And the Empty’s trying to take Chuck out!” he argues, “So, enemy of my enemy is my friend or all that nonsense –“

           “Go to hell.”

           “I wish I could, but I’m kinda on a short leash.” Bored with Dean’s resistance, Lucifer threads his next few words with seriousness. “Listen, once Betty’s done with the book I’ll flit on out of here and one, two, three – humanity is saved from dear, ol’ dad! We can make this all painless if you’d just trust me, or we can keep doing what we’re doing. I, personally, am tired of this bullshit. Rather be napping back in the Empty, but no…”

           “You should be.”

           “Beg pardon?”

           Dean bares his teeth, roiling hatred knocking Lucifer back a few inches. “You should still be sleeping, back there,” he says, “if anyone were supposed to come back, it’d be Cas. Not… you…”

           “Ah, Castiel, yes…” Lucifer sighs, “that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Of course, he lacks my raw power and charm, but… yes, you’d trust anything that he said.” Hand on his throat, he affects his vocal cords. Mimicking the other angel’s gravelly tone again, “Dean, please go along with Lucifer’s wishes and help him –“

           “Enough!” Dean kicks at a chair leg, interrupting Lucifer. Tears threaten to pour, dangling from his lashes like morning dew. “If you really wanna play nice, you’d stop doing that.”

           “This is nice, buddy.” Lucifer pokes at Dean’s leg with the toe of his boot. “Why don’t you grow some thick skin, huh? Where’s the real Dean Winchester? That tough guy with endless bravado instead of this sad, sorry piece of shit that’s pining after some dead guy?”

           Dean turns, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That isn’t me. I… he never was.” An intimate confession whispered into ancient brickwork. Meaningful for a different crowd. Except Lucifer shows little care, sarcastic clapping shattering Dean’s moment.

           “Wow, Dean… really fantastic. Amazing!” He climbs off the chair, crouching closer. Tongue dragged over his lips, smile wide. “Your verbose diction astounds me… did you whip that together after my brother got dragged into super hell? Are you still workshopping it – okay if I give you a few notes?” Lucifer pinches Dean’s cheek, poking this rabid grizzly. “At least you’ve got that face. Clearly Cas didn’t fall for your emotional maturity, your observational prowess or timing…”

           He weakly bats Lucifer off him, “You don’t know anything…”

           “I think I know quite a lot,” Lucifer challenges him, “Between the both of us, only I managed to slip inside my tight-ass little brother. Probably why I knew all his little… perversions, although it was clear as day how he felt about you to everyone – well… almost everyone.” His hand settles on Dean’s chest, atop his heart. “Do you know amazing it was, when I slipped my blade through him? You were a buffet that night… fear, relief, hope… despair. I could’ve ended him in that other dimension, but I waited until he crossed back. Knew how much more painful it’d be.”

           “Monster,” Dean says, “Fucking psychopath.”

           “The old me, maybe.” Lucifer teleports, sitting on a nearby table. Legs absentmindedly pedaling, stirring confusion within Dean. “But I’ve been reborn on the right side, Dean. Nobler. I’ve got purpose.”

           “You’ve got a load of shit,” he accuses, standing on shaky legs, “that you’re trying to sell me. Us.”

           “Come on!” Lucifer groans, hands flying skyward, “Isn’t this supposed to be your eleventh hour? How can you be so stubborn? Here I come, with a Hail Mary, and you’re turning your nose up at me like some snob. Like you have better options waiting. All because you won’t work with the Empty –“

           “It’s not just that,” Dean corrects him, “I also don’t want to work with you.”

           He crosses his arms, pouting. “You’re gonna have to suck that up. So the Empty wouldn’t send your boytoy, do you blame them? For a broken, little thing he sure is popular. Who’s to say Cas’d come back once this all wraps up? At least the Empty trusts me.”

           “I guess something has to.”

           “You can, too, if you want.” Lucifer casts his reel wide, waiting. Eyebrows waggling like baited worms. “It’d be a hell lot easier than what you’re doing now. Come on…” he needles, “why is it so hard to believe in miracles?”

           “Please…” Dean says, hiding his face behind his knees. Arms circled around his legs, curled into a ball. “Stop talking.”

           He relents for the time being. Proud of what cracks in Dean’s armor he made. When Chuck sent him, he asked Lucifer to ruffle a few feathers. Mess with their heads, ensure this ragtag group of losers would stay down. Accept their fate, end this miserable experiment called humanity in sadness. “Don’t provoke them too much, though,” Chuck warned, fists curled along his jacket’s lapels, “Betrayals only work when the other side doesn’t expect them. Plot’s stretched thin as it is, bringing you back doesn’t really make sense –“

           “I love you too, dad.”

           “That’s why you need to lay it on thick,” he said, “steer them away from why, keep the action moving.”

           Lucifer stared down at his father, frowning. “Anything else you need?”

           “No,” Chuck clapped Lucifer’s shoulder, nodding. “Just be yourself.”

           Except none of them wanted him. Especially Dean. He wanted… Castiel.

           It’s a little off-script, but Lucifer bets Chuck will enjoy what he plans. Even if it’ll involve his least favorite character. Lucifer hops off the table, grace burning across his body. Razing this vessel’s form, stealing its characteristics and distinguishability. A tall mound of clay left that he molds into a new body. Darker hair, sturdier frame, and bluer eyes. “Dean,” he says, swallowing his laughter. “Dean…” He tries again, sounding exactly like him.

           Like Castiel.

           Dean tenses, “Cas?” Barely audible, Lucifer strained to hear his prayer. That hope, sweetness quickly bittering as Dean digests the scene. “No…” he sighs, mumbling into his legs. “Lucifer, thought I told you to quit it.”

           “Lucifer is gone, Dean,” he lies, kneeling. “I’m here… please, Dean, look at me.” Lucifer grabs at Dean’s head, thankful the other man lets him. Green finds masked-blue, their ‘reunion’ drawing a pained breath.

           “What?” Dean asks, a single tear slipping free. Trails along his cheek until it falls off his chin. “How – how is this happening?”

           “Because of you, Dean.” Lucifer’s hands shift, a thumb smearing that tearstain while he runs fingers through Dean’s hair. “You refused Lucifer’s help, even though what he said was true. The Empty saw and decided, if we were to truly end Chuck, the risk of sending me will be worth it.” Expression darkening, Lucifer leans into dramatics. Lips quivering as he recites his next line, “Though not without conditions, Dean – I… you know I can’t stay, right?”

           “You will,” he says, “Cas – we will… if this book really can end Chuck, and we take him out, what can the Empty do –“

           “Take you,” Lucifer cuts him off. “Take you… Sam, and Jack. I step even an inch out of line and we all get sucked into their being, with no hope of actually defeating my father.” He nearly breaks character, watching how the light in Dean’s eyes flickered before being snuffed. Lucifer regains composure, growling his next words. “You understand this, then? What it means?”

           Dean nods, snaking his hands across Lucifer’s wrists. “Means we don’t have long,” he barks, squeezing tight. “I have to set it right, right now.”

           “Dean –“

           “No, Cas,” Dean talks over him, guiding Lucifer’s hands off where they rested. Silences the disguised archangel by chaining him, making Lucifer a helpless victim. Awe real as he waits for Dean, cowed by longing powerful than his earlier annoyance. “I… I need to get through this because – well, the last time you didn’t let me get a word in edgewise and I, there was a lot left unsaid that I don’t want to stay that way. If we can’t have a future, then at least… at least we have here.” He laughs, choking on it. More tears dance their way down.

           “When you told me you loved me, I couldn’t believe it,” Dean confesses, “and then, when you told me why I – I was… I believed that less. I mean, you… you’ve listened to your heart more than I have. Even if a few of those times it was wrong, everything you did was for love. Knowing you was – that was my happiness. Having you, in whatever way you’d let me. Because there you were, this shining beacon, and for some reason you kept on letting me bask in your glow. I felt I… I didn’t deserve it. That I didn’t deserve you.”

           Dean brings Lucifer’s knuckles to his lips, pressing a light kiss along a patch of skin. The gesture disgusts him. “And you were right about how – I thought of myself so… so poorly, it kept me from saying and – and doing things I wish I’d done sooner. All my life I thought there were things I couldn’t have, rules I had to live by, and I never questioned them until you saved me from hell. Literal and figurative. Because of you, I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to be good. But I never believed I could. Then you tell me you loved me… because I was good. I already was the kind of person I thought seemed impossible. I couldn’t believe it. What’s stranger… I didn’t have to believe it, to know it’s true.” Dean smiles at him, Lucifer mirroring his gesture though it pained him. “I’m the person I always wished I could be, and even when you’re gone I’ll still be that person. I’ll miss you, Cas. Always. I’ll miss you, and I’ll love you. I’ll love you always.”

           It happens before Lucifer realizes. Distracted, nauseated by Dean’s powerful emotions, he missed how a hand snuck its way towards his neck. Pinched there, startling him. In that second, Dean forces Lucifer into an embrace. Lips crashing together, Lucifer stays frozen while Dean attacks his mouth. Mewling, whimpering.

           Disgusting.

           He pulls the curtains back, reverting to his previous form. Delights in how Dean senses the change, peeking with one eye as Castiel’s face vanishes. The other man violently hurls himself to the side, gaping at him. “Why Dean,” Lucifer grins, awkwardness heavy in his tone, “if I had known that’s how you felt about me…”

           Dean sobs, wiping at his lips. “How… what the –“

           “You really thought I was Cas, didn’t you?” Laughing, Lucifer towers over him. “I figured you’d catch on but… I underestimated you. And for that I’m sorry.” He devours these new emotions radiating from Dean, eagerly lapping them up. “I’m also sorry that you’ve convinced you deserve a happy ending,” he twists the knife further. Dean flinches, turning. Fleeing. Lucifer shouts at his retreating figure. “That’s not your story, Dean! Don’t ask for more, be happy with what you have!”

           Then, as he waits for his next babysitter, Lucifer’s eyes glow red. “Because soon enough… you won’t even have that.”

[theangriestpea]

Teacher, Teacher | Sweet Pea

Summary: Sweet Pea is ready for date night but Lavender decided to surprise him to something a little different than dinner and a movie... <ao3>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC 

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Word Count: 3.8k+

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Deepthroating, Anal, Vaginal, Sexual roleplay, Teacher/Student roleplay, Dirty talk, Unprotected sex, Hair-pulling, Rough sex, Aftercare

A/N: My second installment for @riverdalebingo​ Winter bingo! My work is out for two weeks due to covid19 so...I have way too much time on my hands. Hence why this was written in about a day. Sweet Pea and Lavender are aged up in this, think early 20s. Teenagers are terrible at aftercare, you can’t change my mind. 

“What is taking you so long, Shanna?” Sweet Pea’s annoyed voice echoed in the trailer from the couch in the living room. In their bedroom Shanna (aka Lavender as she was more known as) was getting dressed for their date night….what he didn’t know was just what she had in mind for their supposed date. Thinking she wanted dinner and a movie, Sweet Pea had already made reservations and bought the movie tickets. However, if she took much longer then they’d be late to both.

“I’m almost done!” She called back as she put the finishing touches on her makeup. This had been something they had talked about off and on for months now and tonight was the night that she was going to dive right in.

She was wearing a short pleated miniskirt that barely covered her bottom. A nearly see-through white button-up blouse with no bra underneath. It was too short, exposing a few inches of midriff. On her legs were thigh high stockings hooked to garters and a lacy black thong. Her hair was in pigtails making her look very Brittney circa 1998. Most thought she’d be too young to get the reference. But she wasn’t.

Finally she put her highlighting brush down and walked out the door. She put one hand on the doorframe and cocked her hip to the side. “I’m ready.” She purred to him, voice sultry yet sinister. The tone she took whenever she was up to something naughty.

Sweet Pea turned his head, jaw dropping at the sight of her before he got ahold of himself. His mouth closed and formed into a wide smirk. So this was what was taking her so fucking long. It was well worth the wait...and the wasted money on tickets to a movie they most definitely were not going to see.

He pat his thigh with one hand adorned with his usual set of rings. “You’ve been a naughty girl, Miss Rhodes. Why don’t you come sit on your teacher’s lap?”

Lav bounced over to him, plastering a look of innocence onto her face as she sat down on his lap. She blinked up at him with hide hazel eyes, pupils dilating with desire. Sweet Pea put his hand on her knee before slowly moving it upwards. It caressed the outside of her thigh, squeezing slightly before disappearing under the short fabric of her skirt. “Bend over.”

The metal of his rings were cool on her warm skin, the sensation sending shocks of excitement up through her. She bit her lip, pretending to be disappointed. “But, Mr. Pea, what did I do to deserve punishment?” She asked, her voice thick with forced upset.

His hand suddenly moved to grope her ass, the grip of his fingers tightening. “This skirt is entirely too short. Only bad girls wear outfits like this. Don’t you agree?”

She got up and turned so that she was now laying across his lap. Her skirt had ridden up so that her bare cheeks were showing, the only thing providing any coverage was the thin strip of fabric from her thong. It was hardly visible. “So, this is for a dress code violation?” She asked, purposefully being obtuse.

“Yes,” Sweet Pea said, his voice turning gravely and hard. “And what happens to bad girls who violate the rules?”

“They get spanked.” Lavender answered, doing her damndest not to show how much she wanted him to hit her. What she didn’t particularly want though was for him to keep his rings on, the metal adding to the sting.

Unfortunately for her, Sweet Pea was a little annoyed with wasting his money and decided she did deserve some actual punishment for changing plans on him without informing him first. With one hand he pulled the skirt all the way up so it couldn’t protect her and with the other he smacked her hard. A red handprint almost immediately began to show on her light skin.

Lav jumped, having not anticipated how hard he was going to hit. She let out a small whimper of pain that was ebbed with pleasure. A beautiful mixture of sensations. His hand reared back and he hit her a second time. “Who’s a bad girl?” He asked with the same dark tone.

“I am, Mr. Pea.” She said, her voice toeing the line between a whine and a moan. The sound nearly made him go absolutely primal. One of his few weak spots that she actually did not know about. He managed to keep himself in control.

“It's time for a math lesson. Start counting.” He said and she noticed something different in his voice. Something teetering on the edge of losing himself. She had to bite her lip in order to keep from smirking. She didn’t know about it before, but she sure as hell knew about it now.

He hit her again, this time harder. Lav jumped a second time and tried not to squirm from the stinging of her skin. “That was number three.” She said, her voice the same as before.

Sweet Pea took this as a taunt. He knew her all too well and he could always tell when she was pushing his buttons. He hit her even harder. Her ass would definitely be black and blue in a few hours.

“Four.” Lav whimpered, and this time it was a literal sound that conveyed the pain she was in. He changed tactics, knowing if he pushed her any further then she’d have to tap out. Of course, he didn’t want that so he quickly back pedaled. His palm and fingers lovingly moved across her blistering skin gently.

He did this a few times, feeling her relax on his legs. She knew the worst of the pain was over and that was all she needed to know in order to continue. Sweet Pea pulled her skirt back down, though it still didn’t cover the bright red skin of her lower buttock. “Now. Tell me what bad girls do really well?”

This was really a question in disguise. In truth he was asking what she’d like to do next. If she wanted more foreplay of if she was ready to just simply fuck. He had no way of knowing just how far he had pushed her unless he asked in this subtle way.

The purple haired girl turned to look at him, a grin on her lips. “Sucking teacher’s cock.” She said, voice nothing like the whimpering whines of before.

Sweet Pea loved this answer most because what man didn’t love getting good head? He leaned back against the couch, the pads of his fingertips still brushing against the tender area he had just hurt. “Show me.” He demanded, taking back control of the scene.

She slid off his lap in a languid motion to her knees. He spread his legs for her and she got between them like a good girl, nimble hands moving up to undo his pants and gently pull out his hard cock. She stroked it once before giving him a fake bashful look, “Mr. Pea is already standing at attention. Guess he likes bad girls.”

“Enough talking.” He said, the smirk on his face turning into a scowl. He wouldn’t punish her again but he had to at least pretend that he would in order to stay in control. “Open that annoying mouth of yours and put it to good use.”

Lav did as he said and opened her mouth wide for him. He put a hand on the back of her head and guided her downward so that he could put his dick into her mouth. A small grunt escaped him at suddenly being enveloped in her warmth.

She didn’t take her eyes off of him, knowing how he almost demanded eye contact when she went down on him. The only acceptable time to close them was when he was cumming on her face.

Lav took as much of him into her mouth as she could. The tip of his penis was pressed against the back of her throat as she worked her tongue swiftly along his shaft. Sweet Pea’s head leaned back and he let out a low groan. He used the hand that was on the back of her head to grab both pigtails tightly.

His eyes stayed glued to hers as she began to bob her head, sucking hard while she continued to move her tongue. One of her hands reached for his scrotum and she gently began to massage his balls, causing a second moan to escape him. This one was much louder than the first.

He bucked his hips, thrusting into her mouth and effectively choking her. Lav couldn’t help but gag, however she did not stop her ministrations. She increased her pace again, never breaking eye contact.

“You enjoy sucking teacher’s cock? Taking the whole thing into your mouth like a dirty girl. I didn’t know I had such a whore in my class.” He said between grunts and other mixed sounds of pleasure. He thrusted his hips harder, “Teacher loves fucking your pretty little mouth.”

Lav felt herself growing more and more aroused by his words. Tears pricked her eyes as he hit the back of her throat again and again, however she did not gag after the first time. It wasn’t long before he was cumming on her tongue.

She licked him clean before sitting back on her legs, mouth open for him to see the white semen pooling on her tongue. He gave her a proud look, “you may swallow.” She quickly obeyed.

Sweet Pea relaxed again against the sofa as he let go of her hair. Lavender continued to look up at him, “Mr. Pea, don’t I deserve a reward now?” She asked, wanting some kind of release from the intense emotions she was currently feeling. He couldn’t help but give his signature smirk in response.

“Get up here and lay back.” He ordered, shifting to the edge. Lav got up and laid down, skirt pooling around her upper thighs. He looked at the display before him hungrily before running his hands up her legs again and spreading them as he settled between her thighs.

She bit her lip to try and quell her anticipation. It did not help. His eyes flicked up at her as his thumbs rubbed circles in her inner thighs. “I’m so wet for you, Mr. Pea.” She said, hoping it would urge him to take action instead of just taunting her with his touch.

His smirk only grew as his hands disappeared under the fabric of her skirt, only reappearing once they had grasped the elastic of her thong and pulled the thin lace down. She quickly adjusted her position so he could take them off of her fully. They clung to her left ankle and were promptly forgotten about.

He hiked her skirt up so it was around her waist in order to see her spread out before him. His head lowered and he gently kissed up each thigh, switching between the left and right periodically until she was whining with a silent plea for him to kiss something a bit more sensual.

Sweet Pea finally obliged and ran a circle around her clit with his tongue slowly. Lav was gripping the edge of the couch so hard that her knuckles were turning white, a needy mewl coming out of her mouth.

His tongue moved further south as his thumb continued to rub her clit. It teased the entrance to her pussy, going in slowly before coming out quickly. A moan came out of her then and she couldn’t stop the light movement of her hips, wanting to feel more, needing to feel more before she went absolutely insane.

He allowed this, not stopping her movements for once as he could tell how worked up she was. Punishment always made her so fucking needy. Not that he minded in the slightest. Sweet Pea increased the speed of his tongue, fucking her with it thoroughly as his thumb rubbed faster.

Lav’s grip on the couch somehow tightened even more as her toes curled at the sensation of the incoming orgasm. Her vision began to grow hazy as she cried out to him, “yes, teacher, eat me out just like that. You’re so good to me. Oh my god!” She suddenly hit her peak when he switched places. His mouth was on her clitoris again, sucking and licking while two fingers pumped her core at an impossibly fast pace, faster than his hips could ever go.

Wave after wave of mind number pleasure washed over her, her vision nearly going black with the sheer force of it. As she collapsed back into a puddle of near satisfaction, he gingerly licked her clean before giving her his fingers to suck on. She did so eagerly, tasting herself on him and loving it.

“Mr. Pea isn’t giving up on my punishment already, is he?” She asked coyly, regaining a bit of strength back. His smile back to her was sly and mischievous.

“No. Not quite yet.” He answered honestly as he sat back, pumping himself slowly to get himself ready for the next round. He was almost there.

Lav sat up, an equally impish smirk. “Good. Because I want teacher to fill me up with so much cum that I have to change the sheets tomorrow because I couldn’t stop it from leaking out of me all night.”

Sweet Pea tried not to laugh. He shook his head, snorting out a light chuckle. “Bend over then, Miss. Rhodes and I’ll see if I can fulfill that wish.”

She rolled over onto her stomach before popping up onto her knees with her back arched. Her hips wiggled at him teasingly as he got up. He took his pants and boxers off before assuming the position. One foot was on the ground while the other leg was bent so his knee was on the seat of the couch. He ran his tip down her slit, running across both her pussy and up to her ass.

“Should I make it a surprise as to where I fuck you first?” He asked, voice dangerously low. He knew where he’d go first, as for health reasons, but he wanted to taunt her nonetheless.

“Hmm,” Lav hummed back at him, pretending to be deep in though. “Do bad girls deserve a warning beforehand?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

He let out a growl, “Not at all.” He said before suddenly pushing in past her labia. She whimpered at the sudden pleasure of him filling her up and stretching her out. He was the perfect amount of length and width to satisfy her. It was like they were a match made in heaven.

Sweet Pea grabbed her hips and began to thrust into her. He was slow, then fast, and then slow again. She was already coming undone from this, although what she really wanted was for him to just let loose. He was not about to do that though. Not without a bit of fun first.

“Miss Rhodes, you’re so fucking tight around my fat cock.” He groaned, quickening his pace as he grabbed a fistfull of hair and yanked it. Lav moaned in response, pushing back against him in order to make his thrusts hit harder.

“You were dripping wet for me before I even touched you, weren’t you?” He asked, not really expecting a coherent answer. Naturally, he only received another moan in response. “You’re such a dirty fucking girl. I want you to cum all over me so I can tear your ass apart.”

Lav was reaching her climax again in no time as he picked up the pace for real this time. He was no longer slowing down periodically, pounding into her with only a modicum of restraint. He gave her hair another pull before reaching around to grasp her throat, pressing hard on her pressure points with his thumb and forefinger.

She gasped out a strangled cry as she came. His thrusts grew arrhythmic and sloppy before he spilled into her. He pulled out and watched the cum drip out of her with amusement. He took his phone out of his pants pocket and took a quick close-up to save to his personal spank bank.

Once he was satisfied with his work he laid back on the couch. “I’m not done with you yet, clean my dick up while I warm up that tight asshole of yours.”

Lav listened as she moved on top of him. Her face was over his crotch as she straddled his head in a sixty-nine position. He kissed her clit sweetly, making her shudder. She grabbed the lube from the end table and handed it to him. Having sex in the living room was such a frequent occurrence that they more often than not left one out.

She tenderly licked the head of his penis, tasting a mixture of their flavors. Sweet Pea put lube on his fingers and inserted one into her ass slowly. Lav bit back a moan as she licked down his shaft at the same speed, dragging her tongue down along the prominent vein there.

He shuddered beneath her as he began moving his finger at a steady pace. She quickly relaxed, having been a fan of anal since the beginning. It never took long to get her ready to take him. His lips planted lazily kissed across her lips in order to further her torment. The saltiness of his own seed on his mouth now. Lav’s thighs were already starting to quake. Her downtime was always much shorter than his for obvious reasons.

Her licks turned into kisses which turned into light sucking. Sweet Pea added a second finger as he felt himself starting to get hard again. She moved her mouth to his balls and began to suck on them instead, her hand lightly stroking his shaft.

They were both ready for the next round in no time at all. A few minutes max before Lav was moving her hips against his hand and mouth and was nearly deepthroating him once more. “Get up.” Sweet Pea told her as he covered his cock with plenty of lubricant.

“Reverse cowgirl?” She asked curiously, unsure of what position he wanted to take. In truth he had control no matter how they were poised. Even when she was on top he was the one doing most of the moving.

Sweet Pea didn’t respond verbally. He gripped her hips as she was still facing away from him and placed them where he wanted. He jerked her down so his tip was pressed against her anus. “Reverse schoolgirl.” He finally said before thrusting up into her.

Lav couldn’t help but wince at his size. It was a quick adjustment, one that he didn’t allow her the grace to have by stopping. He slammed her hips down on top of his, making the sound of their skin slapping reverberate off the thin walls. The pain from her spanking earlier returned with a quick jolt, though she paid it no mind.

He was controlling the majority of her movements, only allowing her to move her hips as fast as he wanted her to. His thrusts were deep, fast, and hard. He held himself back earlier so he could go all in now. Her ass was his favorite hole to fuck.

“You like teacher’s dick up your ass, Miss Rhodes?” He asked, voice breathy instead of stony like before. He always lost quite a bit of concentration when he was inside her tightest orifice. “What’s a fucking slut you are. I bet you do this with all your teachers, don’t you?”

She panted out a whiny moan, her eyes slipped shut as she bounced roughly. “No, Mr. Pea. Only you.”

“Yea?” He hissed, “Not even Mr. Fogarty?” He smacked her ass at the coming lie.

“He doesn’t get my asshole, Mr. Pea. Only you.” She said back as he pulled her down onto him even harder. Her entire body was shaking now as she reached down to trace rhythmic circles around her clit so she could come. Sweet Pea didn’t seem to notice.

Sweet Pea was very pleased with her answer. Of course, he had forbidden Fangs from anal with his girlfriend so it wasn’t really a surprise per se. It was just nice to hear out loud.

“Fuck,” He groaned in an exhale, already about to cum inside her again. He was currently pounding out most of the cum already within her core as it was leaking down onto him now.

Lavender was close as well, increasing the speed of her fingers exponentially until she came completely undone. Her moans were so loud that people right outside the trailer could probably hear them. Neighbors had certainly made that complaint a few times. Neither cared enough to tone it down.

Her muscles tightened around him and with one last thrust he also unraveled. A thick shot of cum spilled inside of her before he gently moved her off.

Sweet Pea pulled her down on top of him and she turned over so their stomachs were touching. She rested her head on his chest as they both breathed heavily for a few minutes in order to catch their breaths. She was still trembling slightly and he could feel more cum spill out from her and drip onto his thigh. It was such a lewdly comforting sensation.

His fingers trailed softly up and down her spine as she practically melted against him. Her head was on his chest, eyes closed while his other hand took out her pigtails so he could run his fingers through her hair.

They bathed in the afterglow of the intense scene. Sweet Pea continued to kiss the crown of her head and lightly pet her, whispering words of praise to her for how well she did. She was nearly asleep when he finally stopped.

“Come on, let’s fulfill your dream of ruining the sheets.” He said gently.

Shanna giggled and sat up, scooting off of him so he could stand. She held her arms out to him cutely in a silent plea for him to pick her up. He smiled lovingly and gladly scooped her up in his strong arms and carried them to their unmade queen bed.

He set her down, “I’ll be right back, I’m going to clean up. I’ll get you a rag.” He kissed her forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. After a few brief moments he came back, now completely naked, and cleaned her up himself after removing the rest of her clothing.

Once satisfied with his work, he threw the dirty washcloths into the hamper and laid down beside her. Sweet Pea pulled her close so that they were spooning, his arm secured around her waist and face buried into her hair.

Lav let out a sigh of content as all the tension left her body. His body heat was giving her all the warmth she needed as her eyes slid shut and she drifted off into slumber. Mr. Pea wasn’t far behind her...

[oftenderweapons]

Small Town Swoons

Hello buttercups! Here is the big fat project I was talking about. I am giving you snippets and teasers of the whole thing, just to let you know what you’re all getting yourself into. 

There are some spicy tidbits here and there, so I would suggest only mature (18+) people read and/or engage with this post. 

I’ll be starting with Yoongi since his piece is really in the holiday spirit and I’m super hella inspired to write it, but don’t worry, Steamy waters is still coming (just know that I’m not done publishing stuff for the night 👀)

Let me know what you think about this project, what story you like the most and which one you really really look forward to reading 💕✨

Just in case you need it, here is my masterlist

Enjoy 💜

Apple of My Pie — Jin

In the bakery and café near the university many students barge in, desperate for coffee and the delicious apple pies served there once October comes. Some of them barge in for the sweet sight of the owner, still mysteriously single. Little do you know that he’s been pining after you for years, since you ran into his café in a slow, rainy Sunday morning, drenched like a stray kitten, asking only for friendly help. Friendship sparks easily and his comfort tastes as sweet as autumn apples. That’s how you find yourself flatmates, watching movies with his secret recipe hot cocoa on Saturday evenings and waking up to the delicious scent of his pies on Sunday morning. But the sudden apparition of a rival makes you wonder, what would it be like to fall asleep in his bed every night?

Mold Me New — Taehyung

Divorce is a mess, especially when you’re so young and you had bet your life on your high school crush. All those things you never had to learn are scary now: dating, friends with benefits, all those secret rules on social interactions and flirting. But then your friends gift you a clay modelling lesson at the local pottery. Your teacher looks like a quiet, grumpy man who slowly warms up to you, offering you his kind smiles and gentle laughs. Right when fear that your lack in courtship manners might cost you your greatest chance at a new happiness, his lessons indirectly turn into small advice, and suddenly it feels like his hands are shaping your heart into the perfect, beautiful whole you needed. And to show him your gratitude, you’re more than willing to gift the artist his creation.

“Don’t let it dry too much. Too much water will mess it up. It will become too pliant and it won’t hold up.” That was it. The rule to love. You had bathed him in reassurance and affection, and just like that he had melted underneath your touch, and he had turned into nothing. And the love had run out. “Every shape has its specific requirements.” He explained, dipping his hands in the basin and letting the droplets fall from his fingertips. “Wet hands, but not drenched.” Once he was happy with the result he sat up, his foot starting a small pressure on the pedal. “See, here we go. The clay will show how much water it needs. Easy on the pedal. Very slow. You’re warming it up. Be gentle. You’re not sure it’s good. Just like with people. Easy at first, and once it works you speed up.” He smiled at the material underneath his hands. “Gentle. Easy.” He said, his sinewy fingers gently pressing into the art piece to be. His fingers seemed to stretch and bend imperceptibly, as if he was feeling the very texture of the material, and of the final result he wanted to obtain. “That’s the secret to good things.”

The Shrew, Untamed — Jimin

Everyone gets married in small towns. The hairdresser’s daughter, the butcher’s niece, the doctor’s granddaughter. Even your best friend. And someone has to organise all the weddings. You have taken part in so many it is unnerving. You’re not asking for a husband, a simple fuckbuddy would suffice. You don’t even need someone with skill, you just need to have sex with a human. Though your goal seems unattainable and life apparently truly sucks, the petty florist where you order the flower arrangements offers you a beacon of hope, comforting you and spoiling you whenever you visit his shop, condescending to your every whim. Will he satisfy your every wish or will you have to supervision your best friend’s wedding on the verge of sanity?

“Sit down, sweet pea.” He said, offering you his chair. He immediately stood behind you, digging his fingers into your shoulders, massaging them. He always smelled like greenery. It was relaxing. “Who pissed on your roses, tiger?” He asked, his thumbs drawing circles at the base of your neck. You moaned and closed your eyes. “Poor baby. So stressed.” He purred, laughing. “Portia is getting married.” You groaned. He ohed. “Your friend, Portia?” You frowned and pouted. “That bitch. Portia.” You growled. He laughed a silvery sound. “It’s your best friend.” “It’s a stressed out insult. She wants me to plan it. Jimin, I am so tired of watching people getting married.” He kneaded the nerves near to your spine. “It’s a professional hazard, baby’s breath.” His finger stilled as he reached the middle of your back without finding the clasp of your bra. He moved upwards, ignoring the small detail. “It’s the third in two weeks. I can’t. Is everybody getting married this spring?” You asked, your head rolling forward. “I’m tired. Stressed. Grumpy.” You whine. “Baby, you have your sugarcane at home, use it.” He said, referring to your swirl shaped dildo. You shook your head. “It’s the warmth. Human touch. Sympathy.” Ask me, please — Jimin mentally begged — I’ll be so sweet to you. “And now I even need a plus one for Portia’s wedding. Lest she pairs me up with her cousin. Did I mention that he’s thirty and bald?” You sighed. “I can help.” He said. “With the Plus one.” He clarified. “Don’t expect me to get my fingers in your pie, blossom.” He stated. You shook your head. “Your loss.” You tutted. His loss, for sure. Not like you wanted him massaging your breasts as you sucked him off, laying on your white silk sheets, his dulcet moans filling your lonely room and your empty

Natural Connection — Namjoon

The city sucks. And before you definitely choose to resign from your job, you spend the money earned with your all-work-and-no-play attitude in a reinvigorating holiday in a natural resort in the woods. What you find is true heaven on earth, an eden of wonders and explorations. When you meet your guide, who will follow you and you alone, you almost cannot believe your luck. The closed-off man leads you through all the breathtaking sights of your location, offering you emotions and landscapes unrivalled — both in terms of wildlife and... well, humans? The steamy atmosphere seems to keep growing hotter together with the summer days, and before you can think twice your big friendly giant helps you get rid of the hots. What happens when your Adam and Eve idyllium gets interrupted by a ruckus of stag-partying jocks?

Namjoon knew your average blood pressure at rest and under effort, your shoe size, your weight and height. Still when he found you right before him he could barely believe the sight of you. He knew you were small but this small? He was surprised. Amazed. Completely dazzled by your size. “Uhm. Kim Namjoon?” You asked, hesitant. God, even your voice was small — he noticed. As you got even closer, he realised you barely reached his sternum. He was endeared. He imagined how hugging you would feel. Why was he imagining to hug a stranger? “Hello! Welcome to the Valley!” He said, offering you his hand. You took it and shook it energetically. “Thank you. I assume you will be my guide during my stay.” You commented. “Exactly. I'll be your coach and your guide through the whole experience.” “Perfect.” You smiled. He was dumbstruck by it. So sweet and bright. You noticed he had a nice voice. And a kind smile. He looked like a very gentle giant. “Have you brought any specific equipment with you or would you prefer to use the one we offer?” “I have trekking boots and walking sticks. You know, basic stuff that's difficult to find when you're the size of a teapot.” He laughed a loud belly laugh, which surprised you and pleased you. “Okay, we can head to the hall and chat about your activity plan.” He said, leading you. Walking behind him was definitely a hard challenge, both because his legs were kilometric — and damn fine — and because how could you not stare at that ass right in front of your gaze, clad in oh-so tight shorts? Once he realized you were basically running behind him, he turned, a bit confused. And then embarrassed. “Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, taking shorter steps. "Don't worry, it's okay. I'm a fast walker." You stated. He grinned. He barely stopped himself from murmuring a 'cute'. You were adorable.

Ink ‘n’ Run — Jungkook

People find awful ways to inculcate mean insecurities in our lives. It is to get rid of insecurity that you head to the talented tattooist in a small town near your campus, ready to ink your fears away. Ready to start from zero, you let yourself enjoy a night out clubbing and a steamy one night stand with a tattoed god. Hit by the morning-after regrets, you run away before he wakes up. Little do you know that he’ll be the man you’ll be spending several hours underneath, half-naked as he inks you. Such a shame that you keep running away each time he is ready to ask you for a date. And that he keeps running away after you convince yourself to concede him one. Will you manage to let each other see that you click perfectly or will you let that night be just an accident?

“Oh. You’re back. Lovely to see you, how can I help you?” He looks sweet. God, he was sweet, of course he looks sweet; you thought. He was the most gentle man you had ever been with. Wicked hips, but such a sweet mouth. “Uhm, I have an appointment?” You said, showing him the business card with the date and time of your appointment. “Oh.” His expression was the perfect depiction of confusion. “Uhm. I guess you can come into my studio, then. Do you have someone with you? Would you like Daisy to come in?” He said, looking at the girl sitting at the reception table. “No, I’m cool.” You forced yourself to form a tiny, polite smile on your face. As he walked ahead of you you noticed the way his tight black t-shirt hugged his narrow waist. And his wonderful, jeans-clad, toned ass. God, he had rammed into you like a mad man that night. You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to reality. Meanwhile, his mind was fuelled by millions of questions. Why had you run? Were you freaked out by what was happening? Were you as affected as he was at the idea of him working on you? Did you think he was a fuckboy? Would you let him take you out on a date? Would you let him fuck you again? Wait, scratch the last one.

Head over Heals — Hoseok

You are the most talented ice skater of your state. Or rather, you were. Your career was harshly interrupted by an unfortunate accident. Healing from the hurtful events takes strong nerves and positive energy. Luckily, your physiotherapist — the neighbour of your childhood home — is the most positive, enthusiastic person. New feelings bloom like daisies on a warm spring morning, while old feelings rekindle and light your way back home like a field of fireflights, back to places that you’ve always loved. It takes little time to get used again to his sweet energy and his gentle hands, healing your body and your soul. It takes even less time to fall head over heels for him.

“What changed?” He asked, drying your tear with his thumb. “I don’t know. It feels like it changed.” He smiled. “You’re still the same to me. Same bright eyed little girl running around in a summer dress, smelling like honey shampoo and sun cream. You feel like home. I think nothing has been okay since you were gone.” Your heart took a second to melt and resolidify around that new truth. “Hobi.” His eyes were glittering. “I think I always had a soft spot for you. You and your knees always scraped, the small curls framing your face, the way your braids came undone that night as we were driving away after prom in the convertible your parents ran away in when they eloped.” He looked so sad. And so beautiful. “Hoseok, I never forgot you, you know. You were my first.” You confessed. “And you were mine.” He replied. He paused. “We were perfect.” “We were.” You replied. We still could be. We are.

Sugar and Spice — Yoongi

A new girl moves into town, her goal starting her life from scrap. And then on a foggy autumn night she ventures in the local pub, where she meets a cute, tattooed bartender who happens to be the local sweetheart. Fate — and the sweet granny next door — seem to push them together; it’s only a matter of time before feelings bloom and attraction becomes too intense to resist. The magic of a small town, and that loneliness that they share and understand so deeply, bring them close at the most wonderful time of the year. Love can blossom even in the dead of winter and who knows, maybe they’ll find a new life by the time of the new year?

“How does it feel to live in a small town?” You asked, stretching your legs out the flannel blanket. Sunlight came in through the yellow leaves of the apple trees. “Like time doesn’t really exist. Until you don’t have any left and suddenly your friends are getting married and having children and all you have is a useless piece of paper stating that you’re a doctor.” He said. “But it’s okay. It’s lovely, at times like this.” He said, looking at the sky. “Marriage and kids are overrated.” You said, laying down. He looked at you, your eyes closed, your hair coming out of his beanie, currently covering your head. “Don’t leave me alone here.” You had a beauty he had never known. Or that maybe he had seen in his mother. That rough, tough beauty that looks dangerous from afar. Delicate from up close. You weren’t gracious. You weren’t cobwebs and golden hair and clouds. You were the ground, the trees, the stone. You were the mountains capped in ice, beautiful and so endangered. Still, so steady. You were the forest, eternal. Nothing could marr you. No man, no humanly disgrace. You would weather and transform, like nature does. Maybe he was idealising you, maybe he was giving you all those traits he had always wished in a woman. “Stop staring at me. Lay down. Enjoy your seconds before you turn into a fifty-something lonesome worm.” You teased. He laid. Your hand found his. “I’ll tell you how a small town feels like, based on the opinion of a girl from a big city.” He exhaled a laugh. “It’s comfort. Like when it rains outside but you’re in your bed and you’re warm and you don’t have to get up. You can simply lay.” He rolled onto his side, staring at your eyelashes. If I blink, will she disappear?

[spn-safeandsound]

16. The Yellow-Eyed Demon

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x22; Devil’s Trap

Word Count: 9,163

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, murder, blood

Author’s Note: Sorry for not updating for a while. This is the last chapter in season one. I hope you enjoy! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

Dean shakily snapped his phone shut. "They have Dad."

Even though Julia and Sam already knew that, having Dean confirm it made everything feel worse. If Dean was shaken that meant things were bad; he was their rock who was hardly scared of anything and to see him so upset made things so much worse.

"Dean..." Julia said hesitantly, wanting to comfort him in some way. Dean was focused, though, grabbing the Colt from the nightstand between their beds and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "What are we going to do?"

"We got to go," Dean said quickly, grabbing his duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Why?" Sam asked as Julia went to make sure everything was in her bag; when she was satisfied that everything was in place, she zipped it close.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right?" Dean slipped on his jacket. "It knows we have the Colt. It's got Dad—it's probably coming for us next."

"Good," Sam declared. "We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

Dean whipped around to face Sam, his eyes wild. "Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay? We don't know how many of them are out there and we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving now."

"Sam," Julia touched his arm for only a second. "Let's go."

An hour later, they were a hundred and some miles away from Salvation. Sam was still sulking about the fact they left Salvation but Dean wasn't worried about it and Julia ignored him in order to text Abby for help.

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could have taken him," Sam spoke up tensely.

"What we need is a plan," Dean changed the subject. "Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive so we just gotta figure out where."

"You think they're gonna trade him for the gun?" Julia asked him, briefly looking up from her cellphone.

Dean nodded in confirmation but Sam shook his head.

"What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam's voice trembled. "Dad, he might be—"

"Don't!" Dean cut him off.

Sam sighed, thinking that Dean was in denial. "Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you but if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job."

"Fuck the job, Sam!" Dean grunted.

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

"Quit talking about him like he's dead already," Dean scolded his brother. "Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything."

Sam was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "So, how do we find him?"

"Maybe we got Lincoln," Dean suggested. "Start at the warehouse where he was taken."

"I don't think the demons will leave a trail," Julia interjected.

Dean nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "We need help."

"Well, I reached out to Abby," Julia told the brothers, looking at the text that Abby sent her. "She can't leave her hunt but she told me that we should go to Uncle Bobby's house."

"Bobby Singer, huh?" Dean hummed. "If he actually wants to help us. He and Dad had a falling out a couple years ago. I haven't seen him since."

"He's probably over it. Besides, he's not gonna turn away the Winchester boys when they need help. He adores you two."

Dean sighed and pressed on the gas pedal. "Looks like we're heading to Sioux Falls, then."

-

Julia was right about Bobby; he let them right in, giving tight hugs to all three of them. Despite the fact that he was glad to see him, he had to make sure they were really them—especially since they called ahead and told him what was going on. He handed a flask of holy water to Julia and she took a sip—with no reaction, she quickly went to Bobby's desk, reading the large book on demons that he got out for him.

"Here you go," Bobby handed Dean the flask of holy water and the flask that he didn't offer Julia; she assumed it was alcohol.

"What is this, holy water?" Dean studied the flask.

"That one is. This—" he showed him the other flask and took a sip of it. "is whiskey."

Dean drank the holy water and passed it off to Sam before taking the whiskey Bobby offered him.

"Bobby, thanks," Dean said gratefully as Sam took a sip of holy water and whiskey. "Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense," Bobby waved him off. "Your daddy needs help."

"Well, yeah, but the last time we saw you—I mean—you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything," Dean reminded him; Julia smiled to herself and continued looking through the book, stopping on the page about devil's traps.

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Bobby shrugged indifferently. "John just has that affect on people."

"Yeah, I guess he does," Dean chuckled lightly while Sam nodded in agreement.

"None of that matters now," Bobby clapped Sam and Dean's shoulders. "All that matters is that you get him back."

"Uncle Bobby," Julia called for him, reading the rest of the writing about devil's traps. "Where did you get this book? It has great info."

Bobby walked around the desk and stopped at her side. "Key of Solomon? Your daddy gave it to me," he told her. "It's the real deal, all right."

Sam drifted to Julia's other side, scanning the page. "And these protective circles, they really work?"

"They do," Julia confirmed before Bobby could say anything. "If a demon walks into one, they can't move and they're powerless. There a few under the floorboards at home."

"It's like a satanic roach motel," Bobby added.

Sam chuckled while Dean walked over to them. "You two know your stuff."

Bobby smiled slightly. "I'll tell you something else, too. This is some serious shit you three stepped in."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam looked at him curiously. "How's that?"

"A normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four," Bobby informed them. "This year, I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us—a lot more."

Julia raised her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose, alarmed. "Do you know why?"

"No but I know it's something big," Bobby shook his head. "The storm's coming and you boys, your daddy—you are smack in the middle of it."

Before Sam and Dean—or Julia, for that matter—could say anything, Bobby's dog, Rumsfeld, started barking loudly. Bobby stiffened and headed over to the window to see what was going on.

"Rumsfeld, what is it?" the barking abruptly stopped; Bobby looked back at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Something's wrong."

The door burst open and Meg appeared, easily stepping into the house. Julia and Sam backed up as Dean inconspicuously grabbed the flask of holy water.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg snarled at them.

Dean screwed open the flask and advanced on her. Meg waved her hand and he went flying, straight into one of the huge piles of books. He ended up knocking it over and falling unconscious.

Sam protectively stepped in front of Julia and Bobby while Meg laid her eyes on him.

"I want the Colt, Sam," she said sternly. "The real Colt—right now."

Julia grabbed Sam's arm and slowly backed away into the living room, Bobby right by her side. Their goal was to get Meg to follow them and get stuck under the devil's trap that Bobby had painted onto the ceiling. It was working so far; Meg was steadily approaching them.

"We don't have it on us," Sam lied to her. "We buried it."

"Did I say no more crap?" Meg called him out. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you chuckleheads," she entered the living room, standing right under the devil's trap; Julia had to hide her smirk. "I mean, did you really thing I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually," Julia spoke up, her eyes flicking from Meg to Dean, who was now standing behind her. "We were counting on it."

Meg turned around to look at Dean and, when his eyes went to the ceiling, she followed his gaze. The devil's trap loomed over her, making her unable to move a single toe.

Dean smirked at her, anger blazing in his green eyes. "Gotcha."

Julia, Sam, Dean, and Bobby quickly got to work. Julia grabbed her journal to make sure the exorcism she had memorized when she was a kid was correct and she had all the right words and pronunciations, Sam and Dean got a chair and tied Meg to it, and Bobby went to salt the doors and windows and grab a flask full of holy water.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," Meg drawled, staring over at Sam and Dean.

Dean nor Sam responded to her but Meg did earn herself an eyeroll from Julia.

Bobby came back into the living room. "I salted the doors and windows," he told the three of them. "If there are any demons out there, they ain't getting in."

Dean nodded at him and slowly walked over to Meg. "Where's our father, Meg?"

"You didn't ask very nice."

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean casually corrected himself.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" she scoffed before adding mockingly, "Oh wait, I forgot. You don't."

Julia could feel Dean's energy flip; his anger about his father and the whole demon situation had turned much darker—he was furious and he was going to do whatever it took to get information out of Meg. On the other hand, Meg's energy was pure black, swimming with evil and darkness. It was horrible to experience but her brief run-in with the yellow-eyed demon had been much, much worse.

Dean moved quickly, leaning over Meg with his hands clenched around both arms of her chair. "You think this is a fucking game?" he shouted at her. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming," Meg answered calmly. "I killed him myself."

Dean glared at her, pure hate in his eyes, and harshly slapped her across the face. Julia flinched as Meg's head whipped to the side from the blow but she quickly looked back at him with a smirk.

"That's kind of a turn-on," she said slyly. "you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl," Dean sneered.

Julia exchanged a knowing look with Bobby; they both knew that Meg was possessing someone and the girl she was wearing was more than likely innocent. Bobby stood from his leaning position from the wall and beckoned Dean into the study. Dean followed him with Julia and Sam on his heels.

"You okay?" Sam asked his brother, concerned.

"She's lying," Dean declared. "He's not dead."

"Dean, you got to be careful with her," Bobby advised him. "Don't hurt her."

Dean gave him a bewildered look. "Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why."

"What are you talking about?" Sam wondered.

"She's possessed," Julia told them. "Meg is possessing that poor girl's body."

Dean glanced back at Meg, who was glaring at him, before turning back to the others. "Are you trying to tell me that there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?"

Bobby and Julia nodded in unison; Dean briefly looked at Meg again.

"That's actually good news," he stated, turning to Julia. "Jules, you still have that exorcism memorized?"

"Yeah," she nodded in confirmation. "and I have it in my journal just in case."

"Good girl," he praised her; she flushed as he turned to Sam and Bobby. "Let's send this bitch back to Hell."

Julia grabbed her journal, opening it up to the pages she bookmarked, while Dean and Sam went to stand in front of Meg. Meg's eyes flashed from Julia to Sam and Dean.

"Are you gonna read me a story?"

Dean angrily gritted his teeth. "Something like that," he looked over to Julia. "Go on, shortcake."

Julia immediately started to recite the exorcism. "Regna terrae, cantate deo, pasallite domino..."

She kept going as Meg smirked at Sam and Dean. "An exorcism? Are you serious?"

"Oh, we're going for it, sweetheart—head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards."

"...Tribuite virtutem deo..."

Meg flinched as Julia ended the first phase of the exorcism, grunting in pain. Julia immediately looked to Dean and Sam, wondering if she should keep on going.

Meg looked over her shoulder at Julia and then back at Sam and Dean. "I'm going to kill you. I'm gonna rip the bones from your body."

"No, you're gonna burn in Hell," Dean shot back at her. "Unless you tell us where our dad is?"

Meg smiled smugly at him.

"Well, at least you're get a nice tan," he snarked and then nodded at Julia. "Jules."

"Exorcisamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversaii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et sectra diabolica—"

Meg jerked and cried out in pain, trying to fight off the effect that the exorcism had on her. "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes," she shouted at Sam and Dean. "He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat."

Julia continued. "Ergo...

"For your sake, I hope you're lying," Dean leaned over Meg again, pure rage covering his face. "Cause if it's true, I swear to God that I will march into Hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches. So help me, God!"

"...Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, santana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae..." the room started to cool, wind coming out of nowhere and blowing things around. "...Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine. Quem inferi tremunt—"

As Meg made another noise of pain, Dean glared at her. "Where is he?"

Meg gave him a dirty look that was full of pain. "You won't just take dead for an answer, will you?"

"Where is he?"

"Dead!"

"No, he's not!" Dean screamed at her. "He is not dead! He can't be!"

Sam gave his brother a look of concern and Dean turned to him, sensing eyes on him.

"What are you looking at?" he asked Sam before turning to Julia. "Keep going."

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut eccelsiam tuam secura tibi facias litertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."

Meg screamed but Julia kept going.

"Ut inimicos sanctae eccelesiae humiliare digneris..." Meg's chair started moving, forcing her around the devil's trap. "Ut inimicos sanctae, ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus audi—"

"He will be!" Meg shouted, cutting off Julia.

"Wait, what?" Sam looked down at her in shock.

"He's not dead but he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dean asked her harshly.

"You don't."

Dean nodded at Julia to keep going. "Julia!"

Meg spoke up before Julia could start up again. "A building, okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Where? Give us an address."

"I don't know," Meg was breathing harshly.

"And the demon—the one we're looking for—where is it?" he insisted.

"I don't know," Meg repeated. "I swear! That's everything. That's all I know."

Dean stared down at her for a long second, his jaw clenched angrily, and then looked back at Julia. "Finish it."

"What?" Meg protested. "I told you the truth."

"And I don't care."

"You son of a bitch, you promised!"

"I lied," Dean shouted back at her. "Julia!"

Julia wanted nothing more to send Meg back to Hell but the more she thought about it, she wondered if it was a good idea. The girl that Meg was possessing had dropped from seven-stories—if she exorcised Meg, the girl would die. She was sure of it.

"Julia?"

Sam looked as hesitant as Julia did. "Maybe we can still use her," he suggested to Dean. "Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know," Dean spoke lowly.

"She lied!"

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there," Dean reminded him. "We've got to help her."

"We're gonna kill her," Julia walked over to them at the same time as Bobby.

Dean gave her a strange look. "What?"

"You said she fell from a building," Bobby backed her up. "That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die."

Dean inhaled deeply before adopting a stern face. "Listen to me, all three of you. We are not gonna leave like that."

"She's a human being."

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery," Dean snapped at Bobby. "Julia, finish it."

Julia knew that Dean was right but that didn't make her feel any better about what she had to do. At the end of it all, though, she knew it was best to put the girl Meg was possessing out of her misery. She had never been possessed but she knew that it was terrible on the victim.

"Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos. Terribilis deus de scantuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribruite virtutem et fortitudinem plebe suae. Benedictus dues Gloria patri!"

The exorcism worked. Meg screamed as her head was thrown back and black smoke escaped from her mouth. Once the black smoke disappeared, the real Meg Masters' head fell forward, chin pressed against her collar bone.

Julia snapped her journal closed and rushed over to Meg, seeing the blood drip steadily out of her mouth. "She's still alive," she told Dean, Bobby, and Sam after feeling Meg's slow pulse. "Call 9-1-1 and get some water and blankets."

"Thank you," Meg managed to whisper as Julia untied her wrists and ankles from the chair.

"Shh, shh," Julia shushed her gently. "Just hold on, okay?"

"Here," Dean and Sam hovered behind the girls. "Let us get her down."

Julia nodded and stood up. "Be careful."

Meg's bones creaked as Dean and Sam gently picked her up, making Julia flinch and start tearing up. She couldn't stand the girl's cries and whimpers of pain; she felt such sorrow for her and all that she went through.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam apologized as they lowered her to the floor. "It's okay, it's okay."

Julia grabbed a throw pillow from Bobby's couch and gently laid it under her head before kneeling next to Sam.

"A year," Meg wheezed quietly. "It's been a year."

"Shh," Sam comforted her. "Just take it easy."

"I've been awake for some of it," Meg continued. "I couldn't move my own body. The things I did—it's a nightmare."

Tears fell down Julia's cheeks at Meg's admission. It was times like this that Julia questioned God. How could he let good, genuine people like Meg suffer at the hands of evil?

"Was it telling the truth about our dad?" Dean asked her.

Julia gave him a sharp look. "Dean."

"We need to know," he insisted.

"Yes," Meg confirmed breathlessly. "but it wants...you to know...that...they want you to come for him."

"If Dad's alive, none of that matters."

Bobby entered the living room, a glass of water and another blanket in his hand. He handed the water to Dean, who held up Meg's head and helped her drink. Once she was done, Sam gently laid her head back down on the floor.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" he asked her.

"Not there," Meg's breathing was slower now. "Other ones. Awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our dad?"

"By the river...Sunrise..."

"Sunrise?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean? What does that mean?"

"Stop, Dean," Julia sternly before looking down at Meg to comfort her. "It's gonna be okay, Meg. You're safe now."

Meg smiled weakly at her as her heart stopped beating her and breathing stopped. That smile was still on her face when Sam closed her eyes. Julia sighed and bowed her head, saying a prayer for Meg and hoping that she would be going to Heaven where she would be in paradise.

"You three better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here," Bobby told them only minutes later as they all walked into the office-dining room.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean wondered.

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out," Bobby took the Key of Solomon off his desk and handed it to Julia. "Here, take this. It belongs to you."

Julia took the book with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Uncle Bobby."

"Thanks for everything," Dean added. "Be careful, all right?"

"You just go find your dad," Bobby clapped his shoulder. "And, when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time."

Sam chuckled. "We will."

-

They arrived in Jefferson City six-and-a-half hours later, thanks to Dean's crazy-ass driving. They stopped just outside of town, in an empty field next to the train tracks, in order to make sure all their weapons were ready to go.

Sam and Julia occupied themselves as Dean checked the weapons, flipping through the Key of Solomon. Julia quietly answered any of Sam's questions—to the best of her abilities, anyway—but kept glancing over at Dean, who was quiet and melancholy.

She pointed out the devil's traps to Sam before she walked over to Dean's side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean said shortly, adding more holy water to their weapon's duffle.

"You're not, Dean," she squeezed her hand through his arm to wrap hers around his waist. Dean easily gave in and relaxed in her hold, pressing his forehead to her hair; she rubbed her thumb against his back to comfort him. "Everything is going to be okay."

"You don't know that," Dean murmured.

"Well, I have faith and I have hope," she replied into his bicep, her lips brushing against the old leather of his jacket. "And you're Dean Winchester. You're invincible."

Dean scoffed slightly and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "Jules..."

Julia lifted her head and happily received the quick peck he gave her on the lips. "I know."

She could feel what he couldn't say. He was grateful and loving and nervous and scared. He was glad she was here with him and Sam and he was glad that she was his and he was hers. She felt the same way. Julia loved him—she was in love with him.

It's funny how you don't notice something—or how you feel—until it comes down to a scary situation. Julia had already known that she liked Dean as more than a friend but she didn't realize she loved him until now. She would die for Dean and she would kill for Dean and she would comfort Dean and she would do anything for him—she was oblivious until this moment.

And she wanted to tell Dean that she was in love with him but she couldn't. Dean wanted to take their relationship slowly and she was pretty sure that she had never heard him say those three words before—not even to Sam. Plus, with the fact that Sam was within hearing distance made her hesitate as well. He didn't know about her and Dean.

Until now, anyway...

Sam appeared out of nowhere and it was Dean who noticed him first. He quickly pulled away from Julia, where they were pressing their foreheads together, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Julia faced Sam, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, hi, Sam."

"Hi there," Sam smirked triumphantly at his best friend and his brother. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"None of your business," Dean said gruffly, unwrapping his arm from around Julia and getting back to work on the weapons. Julia gave Sam a pointed look, silently telling him that she give him details—non-sexual details, of course—later when they were alone.

"You're quiet," Sam changed the subject knowingly.

"Just getting ready."

Sam nodded. "He's gonna be fine, Dean."

Dean didn't answer but Sam nor Julia expected him to. Sam went back to the Key of Solomon and read the last of the page about Devil's traps. "Hey, J, come here."

Julia patted Dean on the lower back, earning herself a small smile, and made her way over to Sam. "What's up?"

"If we draw one of these on the trunk, could a demon get in?" he whispered quietly.

"No," Julia answered softly, shaking her head. "Unless the trap is broken, no demons will be able to get inside."

Sam nodded and pulled out two white wax pencil from his bag and handed one to her. Julia nodded, realizing what he wanted done, and went to the trunk where Dean concentrating on packing the weapons.

While Sam went to the other side of the trunk, she wiped off the dirt that had been coated on Baby from the stretch of driving more than thirty hours in two days. She started drawing a devil's trap on the space she cleared off.

"Dude," Dean huffed, walking over to Sam. "What are you drawing on my car?"

"It's a devil's trap," Sam answered casually. "Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?" Dean's eyes flickered over to Julia, where she was just finishing up. "You too, Junior?"

Julia gave him an apologetic smile and tossed the pencil back in Sam's seat. "They turn the trunk into a lockbox."

"So?"

"So, we now have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad," Sam explained patiently.

"What are you talking about? We're bring the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean," Sam shook his head. "We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon. We've got to use them on the demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam," Dean argued. "We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Sam sighed, irritated, and finished his devil's trap. "Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? He wouldn't want us to bring the gun."

"I don't care, Sam. I don't care what Dad wants," Dean declared firmly. "And since when do you care about what Dad wants?"

"Dean, Sam, come on," Julia sighed. "Now, more than ever, is not a good time to fight."

The brothers either heard what she said but chose not to acknowledge it or they were just ignoring her.

"We want to kill this demon!" Sam exclaimed. "You used to want that, too. Hell, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Dean scoffed and shook his head. "You're the one who dragged me back into this. I'm just trying to finish it!"

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" Dean retorted. "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourselves for this thing but you know what? Me and Jules, we're the ones who are gonna have to bury you."

Julia pressed her lips together, already devastated at the mere thought of Sam being dead.

"You're selfish, you know that," Dean continued when Sam sighed. "You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean," Sam argued; Dean scoffed. "I want Dad back but they are expecting us to bring this gun. It they get the gun, they will kill us all. The Colt is our only leverage and you know it. We cannot bring that gun. We can't."

Honestly, Julia didn't know what to think. Both Sam and Dean had good points but there really wasn't a right way to do this. She was more inclined to agree with Sam, though, but she didn't speak up. She was merely a bystander in this fight or back-up when they needed it. Sure, she'd fight like hell but she wouldn't call the shots.

Dean was quiet for a moment before he agreed, "Fine."

"I'm serious, Dean!"

"I said fine, Sam!" Dean raised his voice, very obviously annoyed. He took the Colt out of his pocket and put it close to Sam's face, obnoxiously shaking it, before throwing it into the trunk.

"There's an hour until sunset," Julia spoke up, opening her door. "We better get going."

Dean and Sam nodded, both of them getting into the Impala.

-

They parked the Impala in a free parking lot by the Mississippi River before they started to walk around to see if they could find anything that related to what Meg had told them before she succumbed to her injuries.

The weather was absolutely beautiful and being by the river during summertime reminded Julia of her summers at home. Lake Michigan was practically her home during her least favorite season. The heavenly breeze, the smell of the water, the crashing of waves, the cheerful cries of kids playing with their friends, siblings, and parents...it was one of the truest forms of nostalgia for her.

"Hey, check it out," Dean said suddenly, stopping Sam and Julia and pointing at the nearest apartment building. "I think I know what Meg meant by sunrise."

The apartment building had a large sign in front of it, declaring the name of the company who owned it. Sunrise Apartments.

"Wow."

"Son of a bitch, that's pretty smart," Dean looked reluctant to give the demons any kind of compliment. "I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah and make anybody attack us," Sam pointed out.

"So, we won't be able to exorcise them," Julia hummed. "It's a building full of their pick of humans."

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too," Sam added. "And they could look like anybody."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "This fucking sucks."

"Tell me about it," Sam agreed with him while Julia nodded. "All right, so, how the fuck are we going to get in?"

Dean pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "We can pull the fire alarm," he suggested. "and get out all the civilians."

"But the city will respond in seven minutes," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded. "Exactly."

Within five minutes, the alarm was pulled by Sam and was blaring loudly from almost every part of the building. In the seven minutes that it took the firemen to get to the building, Julia, Sam, and Dean planned out what they were going to do. Dean and Julia would distract one of the firemen while Sam broke into their truck and stole two firemen uniforms. They would go in and Julia would wait by the fire escape to wait for their call before climbing up the apartment.

Julia and Dean joined the group of civilians coming out of the apartment and waited a minute until they approached the fire chief.

"Hey, what's happening?" Dean asked him, acting nervous. "Is it a fire?"

"We're figuring that out right now, sir," the fire chief replied politely. "Just stay back."

"We've got a dachshund upstairs," Julia made her voice shaky and forced herself to tear up. "He pees when he's nervous."

"Sir, ma'am, you have to stay back," the fire chief repeated patiently and started escorting them back to the group of apartment owners.

Once the man left them, Dean turned to Julia with an excited look on his face. "I've always wanted to be a fireman."

Julia grinned at him, melting from how adorable he was. "That's cute."

"Well, I was thinking more sexy than cute," Dean smirked down at her. "Would you like that better?"

Julia flushed and shrugged. "I like you both ways, Dean Winchester, but..."

"But what?"

Julia flashed him a sly but sexy smile. "I think I would prefer the sexy version."

Dean's eyes darkened. "Oh, baby," he groaned quietly so he wasn't overheard by any of the people they were standing next to. "When this is all over, we're getting ourselves a hotel room and we're not leaving for a week."

Julia giggled. "Promise?"

Dean snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, letting her feel his semi-hard cock. "Does this feel like a promise?"

Julia shook her head in amusement and buried her face against his chest. She pressed a chaste kiss between his pecks, near where his heart would be.

"Dean, Julia!" Sam approached them, looking annoyed by their flirting in the middle of a very serious situation. "Let's go!"

Dean and Sam quickly changed into the firemen uniforms that Sam snatched and grabbed holy water, salt, and a EMF device. Dean made sure that he gave Julia a good-luck kiss—it was kind of freeing that Sam knew about them now—before he and Sam made their way into the apartment building.

Julia stood on the first level of the fire escaped, waiting until Sam and Dean called her with the location of the apartment the demons were holed up in. Her phone rang only six minutes after the brothers left, telling her that they were on the third floor and it was the third apartment.

Julia raced up the stairs, climbing as fast as she could to the third floor. She counted the windows, hoping that every apartment had two, and chose the one that was likely to be the third apartment. She was able to unlock the window with the knife that Dean got for her and, when she slid it open, she sighed in relief when she saw John passed out and tied to the bed.

She could hear a commotion going on outside of the bedroom but she ignored it for the moment, climbing into the apartment. Once she was securely inside, she rushed over to the bed, checked John's pulse—she was very relieved to know that he was still alive—and started untying the ropes around his wrists.

There was a lot of banging going on in what she assumed was the living room and kitchen but it died down within seconds.

"Julia?" she heard Dean call. "Jules, are you here?"

"In here!" she told him loudly, taking out her flask of holy water. "I found your dad!"

The door quickly opened and Sam and Dean walked in, staring at their father in shock.

"Dad?"

"He's still breathing," Julia informed them.

Sam sighed in relief while Dean went to her side. He started shaking his father, trying to get him to wake up. "Dad, wake up. Dad!"

"Hold on," Julia cautioned him, screwing the cap off her flask.

"What are you doing?"

"He could be possessed," she answered Dean. She poured some water on John's face, relieved when nothing happened and he started to wake up. "All good."

"Julia?" John groaned groggily. "Why are you pouring water on me?"

Julia laughed lightly as Dean gave John a worried look. "Dad, are you okay?"

"They've been drugging me," John gave a non-answer. "Where's the Colt?"

Of course that was what he was worried about.

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe," Sam assured him.

"Good boys, good boys," John breathed.

Dean and Sam helped John off the bed, wrapping his arms around each of their shoulders, and started carrying him out of the bedroom, following Julia. Just as they were about to reach the kitchen, where the door was located, it was burst open by a fireman and a mail carrier.

Julia immediately turned around. "Go, go!" she urged the brothers. "The fire escape."

Sam shut the bedroom door behind them and, while the fireman demon was destroying the door with his ax, he sprinkled a line of salt in front of it. Meanwhile, Julia was helping Dean and John out onto the fire escape.

"Sam, let's go!" Dean called urgently.

Sam hurried over and climbed out of the apartment, handing the salt to Julia as he helped Dean with John. Julia poured salt on the window sill just as the demons broke into the room and quickly followed Sam, Dean, and John down the rusty escape.

When they reached the ground, Julia and Dean held onto John while Sam went for the Impala. As he was crossing the alleyway, he was tackled to the ground by a demon.

"Sam!" Julia shouted in shock as the demon started wailing on him. "Go," she told Dean. "I've got your dad."

Dean sprinted over to the demon, who was close to killing Sam, and kicked him in the face. The demon hardly reacted and turned his head to the right; Dean went flying through the air and landed on the windshield of the nearest car.

"DEAN!"

The demon continued to beat Sam up when, out of nowhere, there was the sound of a gun going off. The demon was shot in the head; he flickered with an orange light before falling to the ground, dead. Julia looked over at Dean in absolute shock and saw the Colt in his hand, aimed right where the demon had been.

She quickly pulled herself together. "Let's go!"

Dean shook himself out of the daze he seemed to be in, put the Colt back in his jeans, and ran toward Sam. "Sam!" he exclaimed. "Sam, come on!"

Sirens started to approach them. "Hurry!" Julia urged them, keeping her hold on John. "Dean, Sam, we have to get out of here!"

Dean finally got Sam to his feet and Julia helped John walk over to them. Once she got the first aid kit out of the trunk, she joined Sam in the backseat and Dean took off.

She made sure she stopped Sam's bleeding, pressing some gauze against the cuts on his face. Once the blood stopped, she made sure to disinfect the wounds, ignoring the winces and grunts of pain that Sam gave.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted under her breath the whole time.

By the time she was finished putting butterfly bandages on the cuts that needed to stay closed, it was pitch black outside and they were arriving to a nearby safe house that the Petersen-Alexander family owned.

Once they entered the cabin, Julia demanded that John and Sam take a seat while she salted all the doors and windows. She took out one of the large containers of salt hidden under one of the kitchen cabinets and Dean volunteered to stay with John and Sam and salt the windows in the dining room-kitchen.

Julia took care of the rest of the cabin, including three bedrooms, the living room, and two bathrooms. It only took ten minutes to take care of the bedrooms and bathroom and she was in the living room when Dean joined her.

"How are they doing?" she asked him quietly as he saddled up to her side.

"They just need a little rest, that's all," Dean replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she deflected; and she really was fine, despite the fact that had been scared out of her wits only two hours earlier. "How are you?"

"I'll survive," he grumbled. "Hey, do you think that we were followed?"

"I have no idea but I doubt it," Julia sighed, finishing up the last window. She turned in his arms, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head on his chest. "We got this place for a reason. It's secluded and so far away from civilization it might as well be in the middle of Russia."

Dean snickered slightly, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "I don't think that made any sense."

"Russia is barren, Dean," she told him matter-of-factly. "I'm pretty sure that the people who live in New York City outnumber the whole population of Russia by, like, two times."

"Hmm, okay, smarty-pants."

"Mmm," Julia hummed. "I'm glad you brought the Colt. If you hadn't..."

"I'm not going to say I-told-you-so but..."

"But?"

"But I told you so," Dean sighed, his amusement fading. "Jules..."

"Hmm?"

"You know that demon I shot? There was a person in there."

Julia's heart fell at the reminder. She wasn't mad at Dean and she certainly didn't blame him for anything. He had saved his brother's life—the person he loved most in the world—and there wasn't really another choice. They couldn't exorcise him and he was on the brink of killing Sam.

"Dean," she rubbed his back with her thumbs. "You didn't have a choice."

"Yeah, I know," Dean agreed quietly "but that's not what bothers me."

Julia moved her head so her chin rested on his chest, looking up at his beautiful freckled face. "Then what is bothering you?"

"Killing that guy, killing Meg..." he swallowed harshly. "I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch," he confessed. "For you or Sam and Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh...it scares me sometimes."

Usually Julia would know what to say to Dean that would comfort him. But what was she supposed to say to his admission? Thank you? That was awkward and by the way Dean was talking about it, she didn't think he was appreciate that. That being said, she knew how he felt; she'd do anything for the Winchesters, Bobby, her dad, sisters, brother-in-law, niece, and aunt. She was in the same boat as him.

"It shouldn't," John declared as he and Sam walked into the living room. "You did good."

Dean pulled away from Julia and gave his father a look of surprise. "You're not mad?"

"For what?"

"For using a bullet."

"Mad?" John scoffed lightly. "I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you—you watch out for this family. You always have."

Instantly, Julia was suspicious. This wasn't like John—one time, when Dean sixteen and Sam was twelve, he got into huge trouble for stealing peanut butter and bread from a gas station so he could feed Sam. He was arrested and, when the police called John, he told them that Dean could rot in jail for stealing. At that time, he was looking out for Sam, too, but John sure didn't appreciate it.

And there were many times after that when Dean took care of Sam in John's absence. So, either he changed his attitude within the past few days, or something was wrong. Julia squeezed Dean's hand as a warning and he squeezed back right away, signaling to her that he was suspicious too.

It couldn't be a coincidence that the lights started flickering at that exact moment. The wind blowing around the trees suddenly harshened. John walked over to the nearest window and looked out at the woods around them.

"It found us," he told Sam, Dean, and Julia. "It's here?"

Sam bristled. "The demon?"

John nodded and ordered, "Sam, salt the doors and windows."

"Julia and Dean already did that."

"Well, check it, okay?"

"Okay," Sam agreed and left the room.

John turned to Dean now. "Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

Dean pulled the Colt out of his jeans but hesitated when John stuck out his hand for it. "Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation but it vanished."

"This is me," John insisted. "I won't miss. Give me the Colt, hurry. Son, please."

Dean grabbed Julia's hand again and pulled her with him as he backed away from his dad.

John shook his head angrily. "Give me the gun," he ordered firmly. "What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious that I wasted a bullet," Dean muttered. "He wouldn't be proud of me, he'd tear me a new one."

Obviously Dean had been thinking along the same lines as her.

John blinked as Dean raised the Colt, aiming it right at his chest. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, it's me," John insisted.

"I know my dad better than anyone and you ain't him."

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Dean retorted. "Stay the fuck back."

Sam rushed back into the living room, eyes wide with shock at the scene he walked into. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"

"Your brother has lost his mind," John told him.

Julia rolled her eyes and looked over at Sam. "He's not your dad."

Sam blinked in shock. "What?"

"I think he's possessed," Dean stated, upset. "I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to them, Sammy," John pleaded to his youngest son. "

Sam immediately turned to Dean and Julia. "How do you know?"

"He's...he's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this," John pointed out. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you gotta trust me."

Sam looked back and forth between his father and Dean and Julia, trying to decide what he should do and who should he trust.

But the demon inside of John was right; they didn't have time for this. "Oh, for crying out loud," she muttered before raising her voice. "Christo."

John blinked, his eyes changing from his usual chocolate brown to a hazy yellow. The same yellow eyes that the demon at the Holden's house had. He chuckled lowly. "I almost had you."

None of them could even take a single step before each of them were thrown to separate walls, hovering a foot or so into the air. Julia grunted in pain, pressure building in her abdomen and lungs. Dean and Sam weren't fairing any better, both of them struggling against the force the demon had them in.

The demon picked up the Colt and examined it, shaking his head. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been."

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam spat through gritted teeth; the demon nodded. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me," the demon shrugged.

"Why didn't the holy water work on you?" Julia asked with some difficulty, tilting her head upwards to try to ease the pressure on her lungs.

The demon looked over at her and laughed. "You think something like that works on something like me, Julia?"

Sam clenched his jaw and struggled against the demon's force. Unfortunately, he was unable to move. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, that would be a neat trick," the demon drawled mockingly. "In fact, here—" he put the Colt on the coffee table. "Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."

Sam locked his gaze on the Colt but after a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Well, this is fun," the demon sighed wistfully as he walked over to Julia, studying her with curious eyes. "I could've have killed you a hundred times today, but this...well, this is worth the wait."

Julia flinched as he reached for her, cupping her cheek roughly. "Get your hands off of me!"

"Aw, so precious," the demon clicked his tongue. "You're as threatening as a fruit fly...And they say you're the Chosen one? Please."

"Get away from her!" Dean shouted, trying to get out of the demon's hold.

The demon laughed and left Julia, wandering over to Dean. "Your dad—he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi, by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Let him go or I swear to God—"

"What?" the demon cut him off. "What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice," he stepped closer to Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley?" the demon continued on. "That was my boy. You understand?"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What? You're the only one that can have a family?" the demon narrowed his eyes. "You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" he smirked. "Oh, that's right. I forgot; I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean growled at him.

"I wanna know why?" Sam spoke up. "Why'd you do it?"

The demon looked over at Sam. "You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?"

"Yeah."

The demon scoffed and turned back to Dean. "You know, I never told you this but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. He'd been shopping for rings and everything."

Julia pressed her lips together sadly; Sam and Jess were so close to a happy ending, so close. It destroyed her to know that Jess was dead and Sam was never going to have a normal life again.

"You wanna know why?" the demon backed away from Dean, making his way toward Sam. "Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?" Sam asked, voice hard.

"My plans for you, Sammy," the demon said simply. "You and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh?" Dean interrupted, hoping to get the demon's attention off of Sam. "Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

The demon scoffed. "Funny," he walked back over to Dean. "But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family but the truth is, they don't need you," the demon lied. "Not like you need them. Sam? He's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. And your girl over there?" he nodded at Julia. "She'll get over you soon. It'll be like you never existed."

"Shut up!" Julia shouted at him. "God, you talk more than my sister."

The demon rolled his eyes at her and Dean shook his head, silently telling to keep her mouth shut.

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh?" he got the demon's attention again, smiling sarcastically. "Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted them."

The demon took a couple steps away from Dean and bowed his head. And then Dean was screaming in pain and the demon was looking back up at him.

"DEAN!" Julia and Sam shouted in unison before Julia continued, "Stop! Stop it!"

Dean's chest started bleeding heavily; it looked like he had a waterfall of blood falling over him, dripping down his chest and staining his gray t-shirt.

"Stop!"

"Dad! Dad," Dean grunted desperately, trying to get through to his father. "don't you let it kill me!"

The demon continued to attack Dean.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as Julia cried in fear. "No!"

"Dad, please," Dean whispered before his head drooped and he fell unconscious.

"DEAN!"

Suddenly, the demon paused and, when he spoke, there was pain and sadness in his voice. "Stop. Stop it."

Julia saw the change in his energy as John took control of his body. The three of them dropped to the ground, the demon's force no longer holding them; once she steadied herself, Julia rushed over to Dean's side, putting pressure on his wounded chest, and Sam reached for the gun, aiming it at his father.

Julia patted Dean's cheeks, trying to wake him up, all the while looking between him and Sam and John. His energy changed again and the yellow eyes appeared; the demon was back in control of John's body.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," he taunted Sam.

"I know," Sam said harshly and lowered the Colt, aiming at John's right leg and pulling the trigger.

The bullet shot strait into John's left thigh; his body flashed with a white light but it didn't kill him like they had expected it to. John's body still fell to the floor, though, and as soon as he was down, Dean woke up, wheezing.

"Dean," Julia sighed in relief. "Thank God."

"What's happening?" he breathed.

"You lost a lot of blood, so stay still, okay?" she advised him. "Sam's checking on your dad right now."

"Is he okay?"

"Sam, how's John looking?" she called over to him.

Sam didn't get to answer; John suddenly gasped loudly, his back arching severely.

"Sammy!" he shouted desperately. "It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it! You shoot me, you shoot me in the heart, son!"

Sam shakily raised the Colt, aiming at John's chest.

"Sam, don't!" Dean protested as loudly at he could. He tried to sit up but Julia had to take most of his weight. "Don't you do this. Don't you do this."

"You do this, Sammy!" John ordered his youngest son. "Shoot me, son! I can't hold onto it much longer! I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," Julia shook her head at Sam.

"Sam..."

Sam lowered the gun and a half-second later, John's mouth opened and black smoke erupted from it. It quickly left the cabin through the floorboards, leaving John to stare at Sam in disappointment.

They didn't have time to just sit around and accuse each other of what they did wrong. Dean was severely wounded and John wasn't much better. Julia and Sam quickly scooped them up and helped them out of the cabin and into the Impala.

Julia slid into the backseat behind Sam, who was going to drive, and opened the first aid kit that she, thankfully, didn't put away when they arrived. She ripped open a few packages of gauze as Sam started to drive and passed one patch up to John to press against his bullet wound.

"Hold on, Dean," she breathed, pressing the gauze to his bloody chest. "Just hold on for me, okay? You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

The closest town with a hospital was an hour away; Sam drove as fast as he could and, within less than a half-hour, they were only ten minutes away.

"Just hold on, all right," Sam spoke up as John groaned in pain, having put on a new patch of gauze on his wound. "The hospital's only ten minutes away."

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy," John grunted. "Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eyes on this? Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything."

Sam looked in the rearview mirror, checking on his brother and best friend. Julia was still putting pressure on Dean's wound, stroking his hair every few seconds, and Dean was halfway unconscious, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to stay awake.

"No, sir," he finally replied to John. "Not before everything."

John shook his head in disagreement.

"Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left," Sam said optimistically. "We just have to start over, all right? I mean, we already found the demon—"

(Gif is not mine)

[hardforbenhardy]

drumming lessons | rogerxreader

summary: you were a very emotional drunk. and also a very embarrassing, chatty, and overbearing one too. drunk + studio + pent up feelings do not = good idea. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, minimal references to sex near the end

word count: 4.5k

been working on this one for a while and have only just finished - oops :) hope you enjoy!!

“Darling, I’m just saying that if you were to put yourself out there, you could do much better than that poor excuse for a gentleman!” Freddie exclaimed, stubbing out the end of his cigarette in the ashtray before him and pointing his finger accusingly towards the blonde man before you. The same blonde man who you had happily been in a relationship with for the past 2 years. You chuckled loudly in response to Freddie’s statement; you loved how Freddie always stood up for you if there was even the tiniest disagreement between you and Roger. And, as expected, you were in a squabble with your boyfriend, and as expected, Freddie was siding with you.

“Fuck off, Fred!” he almost whined, seemingly afraid that you would take Freddie’s advice and find someone better. As much as he loved Fred, he really did, there were moments between the couple and certain things Freddie did that just set his resentment off the scales. Especially considering he knew how close you and Freddie were, so you had every right and reason to follow his instructions. “You two are taking this completely out of the fucking context! I have literally done nothing wrong! Brian, back me up on this-”

“I refuse to get involved in this” 

“Fred, I may just have to take you up on your offer; take me to a strip club and find me a man who will actually have some fun with his girlfriend!” you quipped, taking a long sip of your glass of wine and being so tipsy that you practically fell into Freddie’s side from laughing too much. Though, to say you were tipsy was an absolute under exaggeration. Evening sessions in the studio often resulted in you and Freddie, sometimes Roger when you weren’t siding against him, and even John and Brian from time to time, getting drunk and pissing around because the band had simply began to despise them. It was, you supposed, a form of relief for the boys as you understood the music industry was stressful so why couldn’t you have fun every now and then? 

“You have to be fucking kidding me… look, babe you’re just drunk, and it’s getting very late; why don’t we head back, and we can go to bed?” Roger questioned, in a soft and calming voice as he squatted to be level with you as you hunched over, sat in what would be considered quite an ‘unladylike’ position. He was trying to be civil, trying not to let his anger at the two of you get the best of him, trying to get you to listen to him; but Brian and John could both tell in his tone that he was just simply sick and tired of your acting out. You certainly were a whiney, childish drunk and all the boys knew it. He took your hand in his and rubbed his thumb gently against the soft skin of your palm, in hopes you would notice his utter desperation to just get you in bed. His intentions meaning sleep, though your drunk mind immediately turned them dirty. You pushed him backwards with your foot, rather harshly; so harshly, in fact, that he ended up falling flat on his arse and release a small grunt from the pain. Of course, all the other boys burst into laughter; even Brian and John, who had not had a mere drop of alcohol enter their system. 

“Roger Meddows Taylor, you dirty dog, what do you take me for?” You laughed, slurring pretty much every single word that left your mouth. You now found yourself on his level, trying to almost patronize him and pointing your finger into his chest “I am not, I repeat not, letting you fuck this until you teach me to play the fucking drums!”

Your last words were practically whined at the top of your voice, acting completely immature for a woman of your age and usual sober-maturity. Brian and John both snickered rather loudly after realising the actual reason you were arguing. 

“That’s what this is about? Because you won’t teach her the drums?” John questioned, making Roger sigh loudly and pull himself off the floor, as well as you; meaning you and Roger were stood rather close, his hands on your waist, mainly to avoid you falling to the floor. In a moment of drunk hope, you reached behind him to take his arse in your hands and squeeze tightly; making him release a sound that you could only describe as a combination of a yelp and a groan. Of course, everyone else in the room burst out into laughter, as Roger just felt his cheeks growing redder and redder; he didn’t know whether it was from the embarassment or frustration of the situation. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N, please just come home with me”

“Drums.” you insisted, not letting it go, because you knew Roger would most definitely surrender and give you what you want. Well, at least you hoped. At this point, you could not give two shits about actually playing the drums; you just wanted to do something with Roger that you could bond with him over. You didn’t understand why Roger didn’t want to teach you, you were only asking to learn drums; it wasn’t like you were asking him something outrageous. 

“Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is; you need rest”

“Drums.” 

“Mate, just teach her the drums? I don’t see why that’s such a bad idea” Brian interrupted, earning a grimace from Roger. What everyone didn’t know was Roger would happily teach you the drums; he loved the idea of his girlfriend being able to drum (the idea was rather attractive to him, he couldn’t deny). Though, he was extremely exhausted, overworked, and worn out; he just wanted to sleep. 

“Keep out of this Brian; I thought you refused to ‘get involved’” he came back with, and everyone could notice him rising in hostility with every second passing by and every word said. He couldn’t help it; he felt like everyone was siding against him. Everyone was laughing at him, mocking him, standing with you rather than him; every little thing you did to taunt him was earning laughs from the other 3 boys and he was sick of it. No matter how much he loved you, you were acting like a whiny little brat and he couldn’t take it any longer. So with your next words, he caved in. 

“D. R. U. M. S. Drums” you slurred, dragging out each letter and leaving pauses. Your face was practically hovering in front of Rogers, inches from making contact, and Roger could feel your warm, alcohol breath hitting his skin. He snapped, grabbing your wrist and pulling you firmly towards his drum kit on the risers at the back of the studio. The 3 boys were now looking up at the two of you, fear rising in their system at how angry he seemed.

“Fine, you want to learn the drums, here we go. That’s the bass, snare, hi-hat, toms, crash cymbal and ride cymbal.” he instructed, pointing out each part of the drum as he said the name and sat himself down on the stool. He gripped his drumsticks, so harshly that his knuckles were fluctuating between a pale white and a crimson red. You could feel yourself regretting this as every second passed by; you hadn’t meant for him to get this angry. “I’m going to play Another One Bites the Dust, and you’re going to watch. Best way to learn the drums is to observe and copy” 

You didn’t want to answer, so you just nodded and hummed ‘mhm’. He began playing, banging out each beat that somehow came together so well and yet you could not keep up. His foot was moving at some points, his left hand the others, but his right hand was always hitting the hi-hat; you were attempting to follow but you were sure that even sober, you wouldn’t have been able to understand what he was doing. He was playing with such force, you were sure he was going to pierce the drumstick right through the mylar of the drums; he had sweat dripping down his forehead, and his arms were getting more and more sore every second. Fear struck through you when he finally stopped, and you realised you were not paying attention at all; not only was your vision completely blurred (thanks to the alcohol coursing through you) but the deafening thuds and clangs were sending searing pains to your head. He pushed himself off the stool and obliged you onto it, holding out the drumstick right in front of your face, waiting for you to take them. The three other boys remained speechless as you sent them a look of panic, as if you were pleading them to get you out of the situation you had stupidly got yourself into. He wiggled them in front of your face when you still hadn’t taken them from his grip, so you reluctantly took the hint. You didn’t even know where to start; you readied your foot against the bass-drum pedal, you held the drumsticks loosely in your hands, you had crossed your arms over each other. But you were struck clueless, you had absolutely no idea where to go next. 

“Well, fucking play then” Roger commanded, his voice making you jump as you didn’t quite expect it; the drumming sounds still ringing loudly in your ears. You couldn’t help but notice how bitter Roger really was through his tone; he was absolutely pissed off at you. You kept your eyes away from his face, you couldn’t bear to make eye contact with your boyfriend as you were panic-stricken of how he would react if you did. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his gaze searing into your skin as he stared you down. You played a test beat on the hi-hat, and it sent an ear splitting echo through your ears, which was when you realised that you hadn’t got your other foot on the pedal for it. “Eight counts off the hi-hat. Every 1 and 5, hit the bass. Every 3 and 7 hit the snare. It’s not fucking hard Y/N, and since you were so eager to learn them, you’d think you’d be able to fucking do it” 

Your brain played over the words and tried to make sense of them; Hi-hat = 8 counts. Bass on 1 and 5, Snare on 3 and 7. What the fuck was a count? Why were there so many numbers? Why are there other parts of the drum if you don’t use them? And Why had he picked such a fucking difficult song? 

You attempted the beat, trying to use your foot and both hands at the same time, doing 8 counts on the hi-hat. Though, nothing pieced together; you found your foot going at the same beat as your right hand, and your left hand playing at completely sparse moments. You didn’t understand how Roger made it seem so utterly natural when your body just wasn’t accepting of the idea that your leg and hands shouldn’t be moving at the same time. You cringed at the atrocity of your playing, and you noticed the other boys do it as well. 

“Very abstract playing, darling” Freddie smiled, trying to make you feel at least a little more confident, but you only sent a glare in his direction. You regretted everything; the drinking, the nagging, the drumming. You wanted to go home, and go to bed; just like Roger suggested. 

“Is there anything easier I can play, Rog? I-”

“Is that a joke? That was fucking easy, Y/N; that’s one of the easiest fucking Queen songs there is on drums. Maybe if you had just listened to what I had to say before, this wouldn’t have happened; but no, you insisted you wanted to play the drums. So now we’re all stuck here having to listen to your shit drumming. I knew you wouldn’t be able to fucking play them!” Roger practically roared, and he felt the extreme urge to just kick his drum kit off the risers and storm out of the room. Though, you instead took that opportunity; bar the wrecking his extremely expensive drum kit. The moment went so fast, but you could not bear to be in the room with him; you felt an unforeseen wave of guilt wash over you and you were struggling to hold back the stream of tears. So you left the room, locking yourself in the closest closet you could find, just as long as it wasn’t the studio, you didn’t care. Shit drumming. I knew you wouldn’t be able to play them. Fucking easy. Of course it was easy, for him, he’s played drums nearly all his life. 

What you were most sorry about was the fact that you knew it was your fault; you should have listened to what he said. You should have just gone home and gone to bed. You couldn’t get angry at Roger for getting angry at you, because you didn’t blame him. You were a complete bitch to him, and he held out for as long as he could without reacting; you were the one who pushed him over the edge because you didn’t want to back down in front of the other boys. You did find it humorous at one point, but now you just wished you could turn back time and decline Freddie’s offer of a whole bottle of wine. 

After a few minutes of silently sobbing into your hands, curled in a ball on the floor of the closet, you heard a soft knock at the door and a small whisper.

“Y/N, baby, I’m so fucking sorry; please can I come in?” his voice was muffled by the thickness of the door but you didn’t need to hear it twice to recognise the voice. You pulled yourself off the floor, wobbling a little as you were still rather intoxicated, though you were in much more of a hangover state now. After pulling down the handle, the door opened with much more force than you remembered it usually did, but that was only because Roger was so impatient to get in and comfort you. At first, he wasn’t actually sure if you were upset about the whole situation, but the moment he saw your rosy, mascara-stained cheeks coated in tears, he felt his heart snap in two. “I’m so sorry for snapping out there, I was a dick-“

“N-no, Roger, I-I’m sorry…” you mumbled, your voice cracking after practically every word. The constant sniffling and your sore throat made it difficult to even speak but you pushed through; you had to redeem yourself. “I-I was a complete bitch and I should’ve just listened to you when you suggested we go home but I-I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the boys and back down. I… you had every right to get angry at me, I’m not mad at you-“ 

You were cut off from your rambling by the sensation of Rogers lips pressed forcibly against yours in a moment of passion. You got so lost in his touch against yours that by the time the two of you had split, you had practically forgotten what you were saying just moments before. Your eyes met with Rogers, and all you could see in them was mounds of desperation, tears peaking at the corners. Why was he upset? 

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” you asked, utter confusion clouding your mind as you tried to figure out how Roger was infuriated only seconds ago and now was treating you like the most fragile piece of glass. 

“No, no I’m sorry, so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have snapped in there, I was trying so hard to avoid making a scene. Y-you did nothing wrong, you were just having fun…” 

“Why didn’t you want to teach me? Did you really think I was going to be shit?” you questioned; you knew the answer, but you just wanted to confirm it. You yourself didn’t think very highly of yourself, so you understood Roger wouldn’t either. Though that didn’t mean you still didn’t have at least a glimpse of hope.

“I-uh… love, I’m sorry I said that. I was stressed as hell, have been all week. I didn’t think you were going to master it, of course I didn’t, but I swear I didn’t mean to say you were shit. I mean you were drunk, I was barely teaching you, and you have never even picked up a pair of drumsticks before.” Roger's voice was merely there, and you could barely make out the small chuckle at the end of his words, so you giggled too. You were now cuddled, not a gap of air between the two of you as you curled into his lap; your arms wrapped tightly around his waist so he knew not to let you go. His hand stroked through your knotted hair, the other was placed softly against the small of your back to hold you up. “And as for not wanting to teach you; I swear that’s not true. In fact, it’d be an absolute dream to teach you drums; you’d be so fucking sexy. I-I, I just haven’t been up for even playing them myself recently. Working in the studio every day, I feel overworked and completely drained of all energy. It was nothing to do with you, I just simply want to get some decent sleep”

“I-I’m sorry for not taking you into consideration; if you had mentioned it earlier, I wouldn’t have drank and we could have just gone home. Or I’m sure the boys would have understood if you took the day off. You could all do with a break from the studio” you sniffled, mumbling into his neck as you felt him nod in agreement. He knew you were right, he should have told you when you both woke up; you would have protested but all he needed to say was that he hadn’t been sleeping and you would have practically forced him back into bed, whether he liked it or not. He just didn’t want to ruin the bands chance of getting this album released; they were so close to releasing their new album, The Game, and it only needed a few more touches so Roger didn’t want to make the process any longer. 

“I know, I know. Why were you so eager to learn them? You’ve never shown interest before?”

“W-well, I just… wanted to spend some time with you and-” you explained, trying to convince Roger that you were telling the truth; though he noticed you weren’t. He had developed a skill of understanding your every emotion; and in this example, your nose would always scrunch up when you lied.

“Y/N, tell the truth”

“F-fine, truth is I saw John teaching Ronnie how to play the bass the other day, and I couldn’t help but notice how happy they were; I just wanted to bond with you, spend time with you, have fun with you. They looked so… perfect. We don’t do romantic things like that. And I wanted to. Also, I can’t help but feel useless around here; everyone has a place but me. Freddie sings, John plays bass, Brian plays guitar, you play drums, Ronnie is the resident ‘food and coffee collector’ and Chrissie helps Miami with management sometimes. I have literally no business being in the studio other than sitting and waiting for you. So, I thought if I could play drums, I might be able to come up with some beats for new songs…” you explained, feeling yourself begin sob again at the feeling you had previously suppressed. You hadn’t had to voice it before now, but saying it out loud makes you realise just how pathetic you sounded to yourself. That wasn’t to say you were wrong about it though. 

“Oh lovie, you are not useless; I’m so sorry you feel that way. You don’t need a reason to be at the studio.” he comforted, pulling you impossibly closer than you already were and rubbing his hand along your back. He had never really considered your relationship ‘unromantic’ - to him, you were all he needed to feel loved and that was romantic enough. But he understood your point; you weren’t all lovey-dovey, especially around the boys. And he had never really considered the fact you didn’t have a purpose around the studio because you didn’t need one. The boys absolutely loved you, and your company made their day. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve always thought your job around here is to cheer everyone up because you always seem to do that with your presence”

“You really think so? I’ve always thought I’m just a burden” you sniffled, pulling your face away from his chest as looking up at him with doe-eyes. He couldn’t help but admire how pretty you were, even in this state; drunk and heartbroken. 

“I absolutely think so; you don’t need a purpose around here. Look, I would love to teach you drums when I’m not so exhausted; maybe we can set something up in the week? But for now, I think we should go home, and sleep. Please” he begged, another large yawn coming out his mouth. You nodded, trying to stand up without passing out from the alcohol poisoning your system, with Roger giving you a hand. 

It was safe to say you both slept like logs that night.

*****

Roger had looked everywhere, but he still hadn’t found you; you had planned to meet in the studio for your first drumming lesson, but you were yet to turn up. Bored out of his mind, he took a stroll through the different rooms in the building in search for a cigarette he could steal, when he came across a room he’d been yet to explore. He hoped it was a room of Freddie’s, because he would’ve been certain to find something in there to do. 

Walking in, he noticed the room was far too bland to be anything to do with Freddie, otherwise it would have grand costumes and colourful posters plastered over the wall. In fact, it looked like a room a bunch of girls would sit in and gossip. Which allowed him to whittle it down to a room you, Ronnie and Chrissie (maybe even Jim sometimes) would come to gossip in whilst the boys recorded. When he was about to leave, he noticed a small book on the coffee table in the centre of the room. It looked quite small, but it had definitely been used as the edges were tattered and the pages were brimming with post-its and other inserts. Being the curious little shit he is, he took a sneak to see what was inside.

As he opened it, his brain immediately clicked that this was some kind of ‘songbook’, presuming it was one of the boys who had been working on new material. Though the handwriting was way too familiar to pass down, the curves of the h’s and the flicks of the y’s; this was your handwriting. Your book. Your songs? Skimming over the lyrics to the first song he saw, titled ‘Radio Ga Ga’

I'd sit alone and watch your light

My only friend through teenage nights

And everything I had to know

I heard it on my radio

Reading the words, he could already imagine the beat of the drums and the way Freddie’s voice would sound singing the song; he thought it was genius. He read through the whole song, picking out certain lines he could change or his personal favourites. He also couldn’t help but recognise the fact that the whole chorus sounded a little like something his son had said a few days earlier when you were feeding him his breakfast and listening the radio. 

“Roger?” he heard his name being shouted from the studio, instantly recognising your voice and going to find you (carrying the book with him). He met you in the room, seeing that you had Felix in one arm and a shopping bag in the other. “I-I’m sorry I was late, John said he’s look after Felix while I did the shopping but he and Ronnie came down with the flu, and Brian is at some astrophysics lecture, and Freddie on some romantic holiday with Jim for the weekend as you know so I had to take him shopping with me- where did you find that?”

“In your secret little room you and the girls seem to have. Why didn’t you show me this? Some of these songs are amazing, Y/N!” Roger enthused, taking the little boy out your arms so you could relieve yourself of the heavy baggage. You raised your eyebrow in disbelief of his words; they weren’t that good. 

“You really think? They’re just some shit I write when Ronnie and Chrissie are busy chatting about the boys in bed, so I don’t have to join the conversation.”

“I know Y/N. That first one, Radio Ga Ga, could be a major hit. I could hear it in Freddie’s voice in my head, in fact I think I might already have the tune. Listen” he seemed extremely excited about it, rushing over to the keyboard to play the chords. You sang the words along as he played, your son joining in when it came to the ‘Radio Ga Ga’ with his own interpretation; the same one he had said in the kitchen a few days ago. You and Roger both laughed at Felix’s cheering, Roger kissing him on the cheek and going to give you a hug. 

“Roger, that sounds amazing!” 

“Well, I could’ve hardly done it without your songwriting. I’m serious YN, you should pitch some of these to the boys. Like that Hammer to Fall, and I Want To Break Free - the boys would love them!” 

“O-Okay. I will. I guess if I’m such an amazing songwriter, I don’t need to learn the drums” you giggled, snatching your book back off Rog to put in your bag. 

“Mhm, I think you could still learn them; just the idea of you on them gets me going” he winked, wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his face into your neck. He wasn’t lying, and you could tell because he was only this touchy when he wanted something. 

“Not while Felix is here!” you chuckled, patting him on the back and pointing towards your child who, while completely oblivious to you and Roger, was plucking at the strings of John’s bass, which you were thankful was not plugged in. 

You caved in to Rogers demands, and learning the drums wasn’t as hard as you expected. As long as you weren’t drunk, and Roger wasn’t exhausted. 

[angeliise]

Day 5: College AU

Warning: Contain Mature content and explicit language 

Words: 4.775

****

“Mm.” Hinata moaned as her boyfriend, Sasuke, swirled his tongue around hers in an intense make out session. She had lost all sense of time in his embrace that the swarm of butterflies in her stomach was no longer a bother. His hands gently massaged her breasts as he hungrily attacked her lower-lip with bits of kisses and bites. “Oh, Sasuke.”

Hinata’s moans grew higher as her nether regions were wetting her undergarments. Oh, how she wanted to pounce on him like there was no tomorrow! But… it always around now that Sasuke made his way to her-

“Nn!”

Hinata shamelessly avoided Sasuke’s gaze. They had been together for 4 years, nearing their 5th anniversary and they hadn’t had sex yet. She was about to say something until she heard Sasuke let out a low sigh before he planted tiny kisses on her neck. When he stopped at a point, Hinata winced at the sharp but quick pain from Sasuke’s teeth.

She felt an unwanted breeze through his body as Sasuke lifted his body from hers. “Babe-”

“It’s fine. I know how you feel around these things.” He said as he picked up his shirt and pants. Hinata’s lips were pursed while he put on his clothes. She knew she was reaching his limit but she didn’t know how to approach the situation accordingly. One big reason being that she believed in sex after marriage. She grew up in a household where traditional views on marriage were still upheld and highly practiced. She never called herself religious, but she was starting to think that she was simply in denial.

“I’ll pick you up on Monday.” He walked over to her and placed a soft kiss on her lips before leaving.

***

When Sasuke entered his car, he dialled a number as he got the engine going.

“Helloooooo?”

“Hey, Naruto, are you free?”

“Sure, same place as usual?”

“Yeah.” Sasuke stepped on the pedal and was quickly off to  meet with his best friend, Naruto. He had always gone to Naruto for advice for anything, really. Although they related to being neglected, Naruto had handled things far better and was always on the happier side. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long he would have held out without sex in this 4 year relationship.

Sasuke parked his car and entered Ramen Ichiraku, their favorite spot. Or, at least Naruto’s. But Sasuke saw it as “their” spot so he had come to love the restaurant regardless. He saw his yellow-haired friend already in the midst of downing his… 4th ramen bowl. Sasuke sighed. “Gross.”

“Who are you calling gross?”

Sasuke took a seat. “You, how can you eat 4 ramen bowls when they are so big?”

Naruto scoffed. “We are here for your relationship issues not my eating habits.”

Sasuke gave him a small smile. Although he hadn’t stated his reasons for wanting to meet up, Naruto had come to know what he wanted to talk about. And no, they weren’t all about his relationships.

Sasuke sighed again when his mind went back to his main problem. “I don’t think I can hold it out anymore.”

Sasuke stared down at his bowl which Ichiraku had placed a few seconds ago. Naruto glared intently as he slurped on his ramen. “Hinata is the best girl I’ve ever had the luck of meeting. When she said yes I seriously thought I was dreaming and she became sexier as the years went by. I was hoping… that she would have loosened up a bit but…”

“She hasn’t.” Naruto finished.

Sasuke shook his head, feeling a bit ashamed over how desperate he had become. But-

“Don’t shame yourself about it. Not that sex should be the vocal point in a relationship, but unless both of you are asexual, what’s so wrong about wanting to do it? Especially when you two have been together for as long as you have?”

Sasuke reached for his chopsticks and separated them. “I know, but-”

“But nothing!” Naruto said, pointing his dripping chopsticks at Sasuke. “Ino and I have been together for 3 years and I’ve lost count of how many times we have done it.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, I think we started doing it after we had been together for 5 months.”

Sasuke frowned his eyebrows. “Naruto.”

“It did give us a lot of time to experiment with our different… erm..”

“Naruto..”

“Oh yeah, ki-”

“NARUTO!”

Naruto put his hand over his devious grin, barely trying to suppress his laughter. “But you get what I mean, right?”

Sasuke stood  up. “I’m leaving.”

Naruto calmed his laughter down. “But, if there’s one thing I remembered during Ino’s exchange abroad,” Sasuke groaned as he slowly took his seat, “it was that, no matter the sex, I loved her. Being apart from her for so long was too much. Life just didn’t feel the same without talking face-to-face, cuddling, holding hands and those small kisses here and there.”

Sasuke bit his lower lip. He watched as Naruto’s goofy self was replaced by a more serious look. That was when he knew Naruto was about to give him some grand advice. “Sasuke, how about you take a break from Hinata this week?”

Well, maybe not this time.

“What are you talking about? Why would I do that?” He spat.

“All I’m saying is, test the ‘Don’t know what you got ‘till it’s gone’ saying. Although we never tested it, we realized how unimportant sex can be as long as we have each other. Besides,” he drank a glass of water, “Hinata must be feeling some type of way with making you wait this long.”

Sasuke was resting his chin on his palm while stirring his ramen around. “You think?”

“I know so. She loves you. A lot. And I think this test will push her to take the next step. It’s better than potentially lashing out on her and pressuring her.”

Sasuke sighed. “I guess.”

“Don’t worry. I know it will work out just fine. Besides, it's only for a week. You two are still a pair for the history project next month, yeah?”

Sasuke nodded. He had almost forgotten about their history group work. Him and Hinata had already teamed up as a pair because they worked so well together. They were in their second year of university and this was their last exam before the end of the semester. They were in the last week of November, and their presentation was on the 3rd of Jan. They are expected to spend the whole of December on the topic of history on the Hokages. He could imagine the shitshow it was going to be.

Sasuke sighed. “Kami, have mercy on me.”

****

Hinata tiredly tapped her alarm clock off. She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone. Sasuke always came to pick her up and before both of them had even begun their day he would text her to ask if there were going to be a change in plans. She had done some thinking over the weekend and saw it fit to talk about their potential sex life on their way to school.

Hinata tapped her password in and nearly dropped her phone by her boyfriend’s message.

Sorry, I’ll be going to school with Naruto for the whole of next week. Nothing personal, just haven't’ had the time to speak with him for a while. Love you.

Hinata felt her eyes begin to water. From the sigh last friday to this. And for a whole week? Was he reaching his limit? Had he reached his limit? Hinata did not want to know for she could already guess the answer. She dug under her sheets.  No, no, no. She couldn’t let her view on sex ruin the best relationship she had ever been in. She was going to fix things when they saw each other on campus.

****

Hinata had called her best friend, Kiba, and asked if they could walk to classes together and he had agreed.

“So, what did you do?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” She said, looking away with a blush.

“Something big must have happened for Sasuke not to pick you up as usual.”

Curse Kiba’s sharp intuition. Then again, he wouldn’t be her best friend if it wasn’t for that. “Well… I think Sasuke has reached his limit with me.”

Kiba tripped over his step. “Limit? What do you mean? You have been together for 4 years and he is as happy as ever. Boy, you should have seen him before he got with you. Always miserable and sulky and calling me and Naruto at 3am about how his life sucked. Pheesh.”

Hinata chuckled to herself before the frown came back. “That might be so but… in those 4 years we have been together, we have yet to have… sex.”

“What?” Kiba gasped. “I thought- wait what? You two haven’t had sex before?!”

“Kiba! Keep it down…”

“But. How do you explain the hickies? Especially this one. By the size of that one, you would think you went at it for a whole night.”

Hinata squirmed as her cheeks flared up. “K-Kiba!”

Kiba looked at her with a more calm face. “On a serious note though, do you not want to have sex with Sasuke?”

“No that’s not it! I… I do.” She said in a low whisper. “But, I’m nervous.”

Kiba leaned his head on his webbed fingers behind him. “Sasuke is quite experienced, if that helps.”

“It didn’t.”

“What I’m tryin to say is, he will know what to do.”

Hinata plastered her eyes to the ground, speaking in a low voice. “A-am I a bad girlfriend?”

“What?! No, of course not! This is not your fault. You have your views on sex and those should be respected. But having said that… it doesn’t stop Sasuke from getting sexually frustrated. I’m sure that if you just talk it out with him, everything will go well.”

Hinata looked at Kiba who wore a hopeful smile on his face. “Thank you, Kiba.”

Kiba grinned. “We haven’t been friends for 10 years for nothing you know.”

****

When Hinata and Kiba entered the seminar class, Hinata’s eyes darted to see where her boyfriend was sitting. But he was nowhere to be found. Her shoulders fell as the anticipating left her. Kiba nudged her shoulder.

“Don’t worry.”

Hinata nodded as she took a seat with Kiba by a four-man table, leaving the two spots for Sasuke and Naruto.

When the two boys walked in, Hinata’s excitement re-surged. She felt her heart beat faster at how tightly Sasuke's shirt was hugging his lean figure. Knowing the type of chiseled abs lay beneath that made her blush. She at times forgot how hot her boyfriend was!

When they reached her table, Hinata parted her lips in until Sasuke spoke first. “Sorry, I’ll be sitting at the end this time.”

Although he smiled at her, Hinata’s face fell as he continued his walk with Naruto. She watched him take a seat at the back where Ino and Sakura were sitting. Sakura immediately brightened when Sasuke took a seat next to her. It made Hinata uncomfortable as she knew how big of a crush Sakura has on Sasuke. Yes, has. Sakura never claimed to be over Sasuke, and it was because of that, that they never spoke again. Well, he only said this time so…

****

It was not the only time. Sasuke had downright avoided her the whole day. Because Sakura and Ino were best friends and Naruto and Ino were a couple, Sakura had tagged along with them the entire day. She even caught Sakura entwining her arm with Sasuke’s. Who did she think she was?!

Kiba wasn’t in the same evening class as hers and she was bummed because she was sitting all alone. It was rather embarrassing as it had always been her and Sasuke. She was getting stares and could hear the whispers coming from all sides. She was hoping that she would get a chance to drag Sasuke into the seat next to hers.

As her boyfriend walked in, she stood up. “Babe, would you-”

“Sas-u-keee!” Sasuke made a grimace as Sakura attacked him from behind with her arms, pushing him forward and away from Hinata.

She could sense a new round of whispers coming along and took her seat as a result. He really had reached his limit. She cursed herself for being so prone to cry for she a single tear drop escaped her eyes and dropped on her phone screen as she was typing away to Kiba. He had called Sakura a bitch first of all, and then told her to relax and that he had his reasons but… Hinata looked at where Sasuke and Sakura were sitting on a table alone. Naruto and Ino weren’t in the same class either.  

Hinata sighed. She was determined to speak with him after classes.

*****

Hinata had hurried out of class to make it to the parking lot where Sasuke’s car was. He was going to be here any minute and hopefully they could make up. Maybe today would be the day she finally let go of her traditional views. Maybe-

“Sasuke, you are too funny. Haha, stop.”

“Eh…” Hinata watched as Sakura was tailing behind Sasuke. She grabbed Sasuke’s muscular arm and gave it tight squeezes, practically ogling all over it.

****

Sasuke came to an abrupt stop when he found his beautiful girlfriend standing by his car. He knew she wouldn’t leave without an answer. He removed his arm from Sakura’s hold and ignored her annoying grin.

“Sasuke, remember the party is on Friday at my house.” She clapped his shoulder. He didn’t notice the sly smirk she slid at Hinata before she skipped off.

*****

Hinata bit down on the tears. She wanted to cry. She really wanted to run over and claim Sasuke’s as hers and hers only. But… was he still hers after today?

“Babe.” She started, nervously looking down at her feet.

“Sorry, I’m really in need of some sleep-”

“Then let’s!” She cut him off, her voice screaming desperation. She took a couple steps forward, placing her fingers at the biceps Sakura’s hands had grabbed. “Let’s go home together. We can stop by the grocery store to buy c-”

“No,” he held his hand up, “baby, I think I need a break.”

… … …

“A break?...”

Sasuke nodded. “It’s only for this week. Don’t worry, we will still be partners for the project.” He planted a soft kiss on her cheek before opening the door to his car.

“Baby… Sasuke, wait. I’m sorry, I-”

“No, Hinata. I really need this break.” He said as the last thing before she saw him drive away.

He… needed a break. That’s what he had said. A break. From her. His girlfriend. Hinata allowed the tears the run down her cheeks as she hugged her frame in an attempt to comfort herself. She held out of hope that it was only going to last a week. Only a week and then she would show Sasuke how much she meant to him in a way that both of them would benefit from.

****

It was Friday and Hinata had finally decided that in order to show Sasuke how much she meant to him, she would attend the party at Sakura’s. She wasn’t a party person. In fact she loathed anything that involved alcohol, weed and drugs. But she knew that Sasuke only drank. So did Kiba, so she was going to tag along with him for tonight.

She settled for a tight-fitting black dress that reached her laps. She tied her hair in a bun and threw a wool jacket on. She dialled Kiba’s number.

“Yes, Hinata?”

“I’m ready, Kiba.”

“Huh?”

“For the party?”

“It’s still 9pm, though.”

“Yeah, the party already started. I’m worried that we’ll be late and won’t be let in.”

She heard Kiba sigh. “Good grief. I’ll meet you in an hour from now.”

“Eh? But-”

“An hour from now and that’s it.”

*Clank*

Kiba had explained that a party really starts an hour to 2 after the “official time” which Hinata found confusing. But she was doing this for Sasuke.

When Hinata stepped through the door she was close to regretting her decision. She had never been around drunk people and she now she knew why. She saw some people laying on the floor, others too busy eating each other’s faces out, one of the couples being Naruto and Ino and people doing funny stuff on top of the furniture.

She got startled at Kiba’s loud voice. “Hey, hit me up!”

“Hit up?...” She whispered to herself. She was about to ask Kiba until he was gone from her side and was chatting it up with Shino and Shikamaru. Although she was really nervous, the plan was to surprise Sasuke and spend time with him tonight. Since she couldn’t spot Sasuke anywhere in the kitchen or living room, the only solution was upstairs.

Hinata climbed the stairs and saw a door slightly open. Though she was getting nervous she could hear weird noises and she didn’t like it. She wouldn’t like to walk in on the act but if it meant-

“Yes, Sasuke. Right there…”

No… It was Sakura’s voice and-

“Nn, you’re so big. Aahh”

No. Hinata found herself standing outside of the door in the blink of an eye. She carefully peaked inside to clear the misunderstanding. Maybe it was another Sasuke. It must have been because… Sasuke was her boyfriend. Right? They were on a break now but that would all end today. Right? Right?...

“Babe…”

She saw her boyfriend laying on his back with Sakura on top of him, moaning frivolously. She was the lead and Sasuke seemed rather… unresponsive but… it was him nonetheless. She couldn’t believe this. Was he this frustrated that he would rather do it with someone else than ask her? Was he so mad at her that he didn’t even want to pressure her? Her boyfriend of 4 years was having sex with a woman that wasn’t her. Hinata flinched when Sakura faced the door and she smirked at her. When she looked away she latched on Sasuke’s lips, deliberately moaning louder.  She… Hinata was…

… back in her room with her face flat in her pillow. She had lost him. All because she didn’t let go of her views. All because she made him wait this long. It was all over now. And she could blame no one but herself.

*****

Sasuke groaned in his sleep as the sunlight became intruding. He yelped from the sharp pain that went through his head. Oh, another massive hangover. He was feeling so disoriented, he feared he would collapse if he tried to get out of his bed. Though what he found weird was the warm sensation next to him. The last he remembered was being at Sakura’s house for a pre-drink with her, Naruto and Ino. Sakura wanted him to try this new combination she had made herself. And from then everything became a blur. When he tried to think back to the events of last night his brain just hurt. So, instead he rolled over to see where this warmness was coming from.

“Sakura?!”

Sasuke sat up, immediately regretting it as his head began to spin. Sakura groaned in her sleep and calmly stretched herself out, smiling at him. “Morning, baby.”

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me, what are you doing here? What am I doing here? What’s going on?!”

“Nn, don’t yell so loud in the morning.”

Sasuke’s temper was increasingly rising. “What is going on.” He demanded with a threatening tone.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Well, you seemed to like my drink a lot-”

“What was in that drink?!”

Sakura swallowed because she had never seen Sasuke this angry. Or angry at all. “Just a little something that I-”

“I swear if Hinata finds out!”

“Well, she kinda has.”

“WHAT?!”

Sakura sat up. “What does it matter? She is selfish for making you wait this long for sex.”

“I love Hinata! I don’t care how long it will take before she is ready. I will wait!”

Sasuke ignored the throbbing pain, the blurry vision and Sakura’s calls. He needed to get out of here. He needed to clear this misunderstanding!

****

Is what he said until he reached his home. How was he going to approach her with this? He couldn’t do it over the phone, neither did she probably want to meet with him. He would have to wait for Monday to talk to her.

****

Monday came and Sasuke was the first to arrive for the history seminar where they would be briefed on their project and whatnot. He told Naruto of what had happened who then proceeded to tell Ino who then proceeded to cut all ties with Sakura. As the class had begun to gather, Sakura hadn’t showed up but Hinata- There she was. She walked through the door looking sleep deprived with dark circles under her eyes. He internally face palmed  at what he had done to her.

When they were told to sit in their groups, Sasuke and Hinata decided to sit in the library. There was nothing but an awkward silence in the air as both were scrambling for words to say. Hinata wanted to ask Sasuke to give her another chance even when she had every right to break things off but… she knew Sasuke would never hurt her like that. But his silence was making Hinata think that he was thoroughly done with this relationship and it made her not want to speak. Sasuke was trying to read Hinata’s expression to see if it was clear to talk it through but everytime he looked she avoided his gaze.

As time went by with either doing anything related to the project, Sasuke sighed in defeat. As much as he wanted to clear the air, the project wasn’t going to write itself. Therefore he divided the tasks and made homework for each one of them. Perhaps she just needed time and he was going to give her all the time in the world.

When Hinata parted her mouth to finally say something Sasuke had spoken up first. “How about you talk about the Hokages from Konoha while I take the ones of Sunagakure. I’ll share the powerpoint with you so we can both see each other’s progress. That should allow us to work on our own.”

Hinata watched nervously as her boyfriend stood from his seat. She hurriedly stood up, grabbing his wrist. “Wait. Sasuke, I…”

Sasuke had his back to Hinata, which was a good thing. Because the sad frown on his face would have been a dead giveaway. She didn’t even call him ‘babe’ as she always did. “It’s alright. With everything that has happened, I think it would be a good thing for us to be, you know…” He trailed off. He hurriedly made his way out, trying his best to ignore her voice. He knew it was the best for both of them.

****

And so a month has gone since Sasuke and Hinata had last talked to one another. It was the last day of December and Hinata had asked Kiba to meet up at the Konoha park. She patiently waited by the swings. Though, she didn’t mind Kiba not being here yet. She has never been hurting for so long and she wanted it to end! She had convinced herself that Sasuke maybe needed time but seeing as he never even texted her to ask how she was must have meant that he moved on from her. Maybe he suggested this idea because he wanted to make it official with Sakura. Maybe-

“Stop making such a face.” Kiba knelt down to her level, removing the bangs from her head. “It doesn’t suit you.” He smiled at her.

Hinata’s lips were wavering. The stream of tears were already falling when she parted her lips. “Kiba!” She cried.

Kiba chuckled as he let her continue. “I don’t care about traditions anymore. I just want Sasuke, my baby, back. I don’t care about what happened at the party because I know he had his reasons. He has been sexually frustrated for so long and couldn’t even tell me because he knew how I felt about it.”

“So,” he said, placing his hands by his hips, “go and tell him what you just told me.”

“But… he probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore…” She wiped her tears and dried her cheeks.

“You silly girl,” he stared Hinata in the eyes, “you know that’s not true. He loves you.”

“Kiba…” Without a second thought, Hinata rose from her seat and dashed towards Sasuke’s house.  

While watching her go, Kiba dialled a number.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, you there? She’s on her way. How are things going over there?”

“He hasn’t- wait, I’m getting a call. It’s him. Be right back.”

Kiba hung up, smiling in the direction where Hinata had ran off to.

****

“Naruto, I really messed it up, didn’t I?”

“Well, it was my idea so-”

“It’s all your fault!” Sasuke yelled over his phone. Because of this stupid test, he had lost the one thing he cared for the most. Hinata. His beloved girlfriend. He should have never suggested that they work on their own. A didn't hadn’t by where he didn’t regret saying that. He missed her. More than anything. There was no way she was going to come back to him. Especially since she never once called or texted him.

“And you agreed to it.”

“Naruto!”

Naruto chuckled. “What are you feeling right now?”

“Feeling?” Was he kidding? “I’m mad! I might have lost the best thing that has ever happened in my life. All because of what? My sexual needs. I  get it, I get it. It’s understandable but… what does that matter if it means that I won’t get to be with Hinata again? I just want to hold her, kiss her, cuddle with her. I will wait for as long as she wants me to.”

“So how about you just say that?”

“But… she’s probably…”

“There you go again making the weirdest assumptions. Just give it a try. I saw her by the park, maybe she’s still-”

*Clank*

“Boy, he could have let me finish.”

****

Sasuke hadn’t given Naruto the time to finish because he hurriedly threw on a pair of pants and a t-shirt and rushed out. The most important thing to remember was a boxed case.

As he neared the horizon, a voluptuous figure became more clear. Her lavender hair dancing with the wind as the evening sun enhanced her pale complexion. “Hinata!”

“Sasuke!”

The two fell into each other’s arms, hugging one another tighter than they have ever held. Hinata nuzzled her face in his embrace as she had longed for this more than anything. To be held by her one and only love, Sasuke Uchiha. “Babe…” She cried.

“Baby..” He said.

“I’m sorry.” They chorused, simultaneously looking at each other. They both fell back at the other’s confession. Hinata finally being the first to speak.

“I’m sorry for making you wait this long. I love you! I love you more than anything else and I don’t want to lose you to my traditional views of sex. So…” She trailed off, trying to find the appropriate words. When she was about to speak, she felt his soft finger on her lips.

“Don’t apologize. I will wait for however long you want me to. If it means that you’ll still be my side then I will wait.”

“Sasuke…” Hinata stood on her toes and kissed him passionately, sticking her tongue in his mouth in no second.

Sasuke groaned by Hinata’s aggressive kiss but did not falter as he reciprocated, holding her closer to him.

When both were running out of air, they separated. Hinata pouted when Sasuke slowly let go of her, to only fiddle in his back pocket. He brought out a mini box which he opened. It was two necklaces. “What is…”

He smiled at her as he wrung the necklace over her neck and gestured for her to do the same with him. His was the Yang symbol while hers was the Yin. He nearly closed the distance between them as he connected the two symbols.“Oh, Sasuke.”

“Baby, I love you. You bring the light to my world. Nothing, nobody or anything will ever change that. I will always love you. Happy birthday,” he took her hands into his, “and happy 5th anniversary.

@sasuhinamonth

[hedwigstalons]

Rite of Passage

This is written for #irrelief set up by @gumnut-logic.  This is for both @tsarinatorment who wanted Scott teaching a younger brother how to fly, and @scribbles97 who wanted anything with Scott and Alan.  

xoxoxox

“Up and at ‘em, birthday boy.  These pancakes won’t last long if you don’t get down here quick.”

 Grandma Tracy’s voice reverberated down the corridor to Alan’s room, stirring him in to action.  At twelve years old he had lost the desire to be up at the crack of dawn and even his own birthday couldn’t entice him out of his room any earlier than was necessary.  Although if pancakes were on offer that could only mean one thing – Virgil was cooking.

The thought of Virgil’s thick and fluffy pancakes gave him the final push he needed otherwise he risked losing his share.  He thundered down the stairs towards the kitchen and snagged a stack of pancakes from the pile in the middle of the table.  The serving platter was loaded to overflowing and the jug of maple syrup was still full.  Despite the threats no one else had started although Gordon was practically drooling from his place at the far side of the table.

 All the Tracy boys appreciated good food.  It could be in short supply on a rescue and in even shorter supply on the island if Grandma Tracy took it into her head to care for them with a good old fashioned dose of home cooking.  Taking their cue from Alan the stack of pancakes was soon demolished.  Blocks of butter were carved in to.  Syrup dribbles were slurped off fingers.  The feeding frenzy only finished when Virgil announced that there was no more batter left, much to the disappointment of everyone present.

 With his stomach finally full Alan was able to take a proper look around the table.  For once all of his brothers were present, even John.  Comms must have been routed through to the island to allow his space monitor sibling to attend.  He appreciated the effort; having John around was a rare treat and he missed the sibling who had inspired his love of space.  He just hoped the Earth stayed quiet for a few hours.  It always hurt watching his brothers dash off in their craft to save the world.  Since Gordon earned his full IR blues last year he was the only one left behind when a call for help came in.

 There was still one noticeable gaping absence in the assembled company.  The place at the head of the table was empty.  No one yet had the heart to sit in the chair that had until recently been the preserve of their father.  This was Alan’s first birthday since the Zero-X exploded.  His first birthday without his father.  The thought made the pancakes sit heavily in his stomach, as though they had been made of cardboard.  

 All joy seemed to leach out of the day.

 Birthdays were meant to be special.  Twelfth birthdays even more so.  Turning twelve allowed a Tracy to obtain the freedom of the skies.  That magical rite of passage that was the first time being in control of an aircraft.  He was no stranger to flying as a passenger, all Tracys seemed to clock up air miles from birth, but to actually take control was a privilege that had so far been denied to him.

 It had all started with Scott.  Scott, who would bleed aviation fuel if you cut him and had been obsessed with the skies from the moment he had first been placed on a blanket outside as a baby to watch the clouds go by.  Scott, who had been asking to fly since he could talk.  Other boys might ask for bicycles for their birthday, Scott asked for aeroplanes.  And when Scott turned twelve he had been deemed mature enough, and tall enough, to move into the pilot’s seat.  

 It was a milestone that had carried on with each brother in turn.

 It was a milestone that Alan was to be denied.  There was no father around to take him up and hand over control.

 The celebration moved through to the lounge where a stack of presents were arranged on one of the sofas.  Books, video games and new clothes all appeared from the brightly wrapped parcels.  A box of snacks and candy from Gordon was quickly whisked away to his room to be hidden from thieving brothers.  Even birthday candy wasn’t sacred if left in a communal area; exhausted brothers returning from the danger zone could demolish a pack of Oreos quicker than you could say ‘Thunderbirds are go!’.

 Soon there were no more parcels left.

 “So, Alan, any plans for your big day?”  Scott asked.

 With his attention taken up with reading the back of one of the video game boxes Alan completely missed the smirks that were exchanged between his brothers.

 “Maybe play one of these.  Anyone up for it?”  He held up one of the boxes.  A space rocket filled the cover and the tagline promised intergalactic adventures that were out of this world.

 “Sorry.  Maybe later. I’ve got some maintenance to do.”

 The disappointment on Alan’s face was clear to all as Scott turned and headed off towards the hangers.

 “Anyone?” He waved the box in a hopeful manner but the lounge was already clearing as everyone went off to their respective duties.

 “Sorry, Al.  I don’t really have time for games.  Scott’s right, there is maintenance to do.  If you come and give me a hand on Three I might get done in time for a game before I head back up to the office.”

 Alan perked up at this prospect.  Thunderbird Three was his favourite craft but one he was rarely allowed near.  The mighty space rocket seemed to call out to him and he longed to one day feel her power. Every time she launched in to orbit Alan could be found drooling at the windows of the villa.  It was a sight he never grew tired of.  The thought of spending time with John was also not to be sneezed at.

 Alan willingly followed John to the elevators but instead of heading towards Thunderbird Three’s silo John started leading the way towards the private hanger.  Alan trailed along behind.  Maybe John needed to collect some tools or speak to one of the others first.  They would get to the rocket soon enough and then Alan could lose himself in the mighty machine.  If he was lucky John might even let him sit in the pilot’s seat.

 As he entered the hangar Alan found himself blinking. Bright tropical sunshine spilled through the open door, exposing the view of the runway and the ocean beyond.

 Once his eyes stopped watering and adjusted to the brightness Alan noticed his brothers and Grandma all gathered round.  There, lined up to exit the hanger, was the small two-seater propeller plane that rarely saw the light of day.  Probably not since Gordon had turned twelve.

 “You didn’t think we would forget would you?”  Scott stepped forwards, already kitted out in his blues and holding out one final parcel.

 Alan stepped forwards to meet him and accepted the gift. He peeled off the paper almost reverentially, partly because of the significance of the gift and partly because he knew better than to leave litter in the hangar that could get sucked in to aircraft engines.

 Hidden underneath the folds of paper was a familiar flash of blue.  He shook out the material and held up the small flight suit.  The stiff cotton was unblemished and still heavily creased in its newness.  He rubbed his thumbs over the material as he held the suit by the shoulders.  A patch badge on the breast proclaimed ‘A. TRACY’.

 It might not be the high-tech material of his brothers’ uniforms but it was his.  A symbol of the next stage of his life.  Each brother in turn had been gifted their first flight suit on turning twelve.  The significance of the colour was not lost on him. For each of the others the flight suit had been in the traditional green used by the US Air Force.   His was sky blue with patches of a slightly darker shade on the knees and elbows. This suit was proof that one day he would be accepted as a Thunderbird.  Provided he could actually master flying.

 He undid the velco down the front of the suit with a satisfying rip and stepped in.  The legs and arms were a little long but it gave him some growing room.  Scott knelt down in front of him and folded up the cuffs into a fetching pair of turnups while Alan rolled back the sleeves a couple of turns.

 “Can’t have these catching on the controls.”  Scott murmured and he stood up, stepping back to admire his handiwork.  “You ready?”

 Alan could only nod dumbly as Scott led him over the aircraft and helped him in.  

 The aircraft was rather more basic than anything else in the Tracy fleet.  Dual controlled with a simple stick and rudder pedals.  It was the perfect trainer plane to learn the principals of flight.  Of course it had had a few Tracy upgrades over the years.  The instruments were now more in line with those found on the Thunderbirds and the comms unit was able to connect to the secure International Rescue frequencies.  The technology was nothing new to Alan who had grown up with a lot of these features as standard but an outsider might have found the juxtaposition between high and low tech to be a touch strange.

 “At least you are a bit taller than Gordon was” Scott said as he slotted himself into the second seat by Alan’s side, “Dad had to put him on a booster wedge.”

 Alan smirked a little about this piece of ammunition. His next older brother made a big thing about Alan being the baby of the family.  Next time Gordon teased about him having homework to do or not being allowed to swim without on of the others present Alan knew just what he would throw back in his fish brother’s face.  

 Lost in his imaginings of being able to retaliate against Gordon Alan missed that Scott had stared speaking again.  Information about pitch, roll and yaw; rudders, flaps and ailerons had passed him by.

 “Earth to Alan.”

 A hand was waved in front of his face, jerking him back to reality.

 “Huh.  What was that, Scotty?”

 “Wake up, kid.  This thing won’t learn to fly itself.  I said the stick controls the flaps and ailerons” Scott gave the stick a waggle and Alan watched as sections on the wings and tail moved correspondingly, “and the pedals control the rudder”.  Alan turned around and saw the rudder section in the tail swing left and right as the pedals at his feet shifted, mirroring the action caused by Scott manipulating his own pedals.  “Now lets get this baby fired up.  Just watch what I do for now.  You can keep your hands and feet on the controls but make sure you don’t put any pressure on them, just touch them lightly so you can feel what I’m doing.”

 Scott’s fingers flew deftly over the various switches in the cockpit.  The engine stuttered in to life and the propeller began to turn until it was a near-invisible blur at the front of the plane.  A few more switches that Alan recognised as belonging to the radio and they were ready to go.

 “Trainerbird One requesting permission to take off”.

 John’s hologram popped up in the cockpit showing that he had evidently headed back to the lounge to run comms.

 “Trainerbird One you are cleared for take off.”

 Alan felt the small aircraft vibrate as Scott increased the power and they slowly rolled forwards towards the hanger doors and the outside world.  Soon they were moving at speed towards the end of the runway and Alan was suddenly struck by how short the strip was.  Normally he was the passenger section of one of the jets or they used VTOLs.  The small training craft gave him an entirely new perspective of the world.

 Scott really was a master of all things aeronautical and Alan barely felt them leave the ground despite the most basic component of the Tracy fleet providing little protection against the pull of forces.  He kept a fingertip touch on the controls and felt the aircraft turn and dip to Scott’s commands.  The ocean glittered below, blending with the crystal clear sky on the distant horizon.

 Despite normally piloting the most advanced plane in the world Alan could tell that Scott was enjoying himself too.  The small propeller plane was neither fast nor elegant but the primitive controls only served to deepen the connection between man and machine.  Every action had a reaction which was fed back to the pilot via the controls.  Every gust of wind was felt and needed to be responded to.  Pilot and craft needed to work in harmony rather than one assuming control of the other.

 “You ok there Alan?  Feel ready to take control for a bit?”

 Alan looked across at his eldest brother, his eyes shining.

 “Really?”

 “Sure.  Just avoid hitting the island and you’ll be fine.  You have control.”

 “I have control” Alan responded, parroting the interaction between pilot and co-pilot that he had witnessed so many times previously.

 And then he did.  Scott’s hands were no longer on the stick but were instead placed neatly in his lap.  Alan had no doubt that those same hands would be back on the controls in an instant if anything went wrong but for now the sky was his own.

 After a couple of minutes of level flying, circling around the island, Scott looked across at his youngest brother.  He could tell that Alan was just itching to try something a little more adventurous.  

 “Go on, put her through her paces.  I’m here if anything goes wrong.”

 Alan needed no second bidding.  Soon the small plane was dipping and turning.  First moving with the wind, then against, as he got a feel for the craft and her abilities.  The freedom of the skies was his and he could see why his brothers soon got miserable if they were grounded.  Even Gordon, whose natural habitat was in the ocean, was not immune to the lure of the skies and griped if he couldn’t get airborne.  His heart soared as he felt the shifting air currents and the pull of the forces as he coaxed the plane through progressively more ambitious and demanding manoeuvres.

 All too soon it was time for lesson one to come to an end as Scott took control again with Alan gently feeling the movements required for landing.  The short runway rushed up as Scott took the steep approach angle necessitated by their island home.  A subtle bump and bounce announced their reconnection with the ground.

 Once the craft was still Scott reached out and draped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.  In the confined space of the cockpit they had been practically touching for the whole flight and it took no effort at all to turn it in to some semblance of a hug.

 “So what did you think, Al?  Another lesson tomorrow if rescues allow?  You did great up there.”

 Alan nodded against his brother’s shoulder, not trusting his voice as an unexpected wave of emotion washed over him.

 Scott sensed the younger boy stiffen against him.  He looked down and spotted the moisture welling up in Alan’s eyes, the clenched jaw showed just how hard Alan was fighting to stay in control.

 “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 “Did...did I really do ok?”

 “Yeah.  I’m proud of you.  Dad would have been proud too.”

 And that was the tipping point.  Alan twisted in the confined space and Scott found himself wrapped in a tight embrace as Alan fully buried his face in the shoulder of Scott’s uniform, sobs wracking his body.  Scott rubbed a hand gently up and down the back of Alan’s flight suit, letting Alan have his moment and burn out in his own time.

 Soon the moment had passed.  With one final sniff Alan pulled himself out of the embrace and suddenly became very interested in the wall of the hanger visible through the side windows of the cockpit.  

 “I mean it Alan.”  Scott spoke to the back of Alan’s head.  “Dad would be so proud of you today.  I know it’s not the same for you but it was an honour to take you up today. You’re a natural up there.”

 Alan turned back to face him, a grin splitting his face.

 “So, next time you’re going to take me up in Thunderbird One?”

 “Nice try, kid.  Nice try.”

[miss-pearlescent]

So you can make whatever AU you want, but if I can have one kink can it please be Noona kink 🙈. When Jongin meets OC he always teases her, it’s definitely not innocent but she blows him off. One night, she’s out with friends and he notices her, noticing her being annoyed by this one guy so he decides to save her and is pleasantly surprised when she decides to indulge his teasing afterwards which then leads toooooooo😉😉 and if you do name the oc my name is Ayla ❤️❤️

The Swim Team’s Car Wash Fundraiser

Word Count: 4493

Rated M for Mature Scenes

You cleared your throat, though it didn’t do much over the rushing of the water.

Kim Jongin, the head of the swim team, was sitting at the edge of the pool, his broad back lined with muscles that allowed the droplets of water to tease their way down to his shorts. It was wrong to stare, so you cleared your throat again.

His teammates noticed you first and snickered, making your cheeks grow warm. The pool wasn’t a place you or your neat Oxford shoes belonged. You were used to sitting in an office or a classroom, organizing budgets and running fundraisers.

It was the only reason why you had to meet with Jongin in the first place. He had said he would be free at 3:00pm, right after swim practice ended, but it was now 3:05pm and he was still halfway in the pool.

As if he heard your thoughts about his tardiness, he looked over his shoulder and threw you a smile. You clutched your clipboard to your chest and dipped your head in greeting. You hoped he got the message that your time was precious and the minutes were ticking.

He said goodbye to his friends before grabbing his towel and climbing out of the pool. Water sloshed everywhere as he shook his hair out, and you looked away as he ran the towel down his body.

“Punctual as ever, Treasurer Noona,” he said as he followed you to the exit doors.

“Don’t call me that,” you replied, giving him a hard look from the corner of your eye. You had only recently gotten this position as treasurer of the council and you worked hard for it.

Jongin barked a laugh. “Fine, just noona, then?”

You shrugged because that was what he had always called you. Jongin had moved here years and years ago, when the two of you were still in middle school. Your parents had helped their parents adjust into the community and you were the good kid that helped the new kid adjust to his new school. Ever since he joined the swim team, though, his popularity had soared through the roof.

It didn’t bother you because it meant more time to focus on school.

You pulled out a piece of paper from your clipboard and handed it to Jongin as the two of you left the chlorine-filled pool area. “Here is the budget. Tell me what you think.”

He wrapped the towel around his neck and dabbed his hands dry before reading over the paper. His brows furrowed and you wanted to warn him that a drop of water was dangling precariously on the tip of his spiky hair. You bit your lip instead. “This isn’t enough. We need more for the extra lifeguard training happening this year.”

You knew he would say that. “Then how about a fundraiser?” you suggested.

Jongin ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all sorts of angles. “The hell kind of fundraiser would a male swim team do? Swimming lessons?”

“Well, what would earn good money?”

As if on cue, a group of giggling girls passed by, whispering to each other as they cast glances at Jongin. Discreetly, you arched your eyebrows at him.

“What is it?” he asked, completely oblivious.

“I’m sure those girls would like to donate a few dollars to the all-male swim team.”

He glanced over at them but still didn’t seem to connect the dots. “I’m not going to be a beggar, noona.”

You rolled your eyes and pointed a finger at his naked chest. “Do you know how much girls are willing to pay to watch good-looking men do a performance half-naked?” Glancing behind you, you were relieved that the girls had left the building and were now getting into their cars.

“You think I’m good-looking?”

You spun around and took a step back, sputtering. “That’s not the point. I’m just speaking objectively. Coming from an objective point of view, you are not bad-looking, per se. You have to know that. You’re an athlete. You should use that to your advantage.” Shoot, you were rambling, weren’t you?

The corner of his lip turned up and you didn’t know if it was your imagination, but his chest seemed to puff up too. “And you think that I should do a strip show? That girls would pay a lot of money to watch?” He took a step toward you, but you held the clipboard tightly to your chest like a shield. He leaned in and you swore you felt a stray drop of water land on the tip of your nose. “Would you come watch me, noona?”

“N-no.” You pushed your glasses up, glaring at him down your nose. “I don’t have time for that kind of stuff.”

His teasing smile didn’t disappear as he stood there, watching you slowly lose the confidence behind your words. “Liar,” he whispered, his breath so close you could feel it tickle your cheeks.

Indignant, you pulled out the thick planner stashed in the book bag that hung at your hip. You flipped to this week’s page and opened it up. “Look at my schedule, Jongin. I barely have time to get my car washed this week let alone go to a show.” Your brother had taken the car to his friend’s cottage last weekend and brought it back full of dirt and grime.

Jongin ran his finger down the column for Saturday and stopped at the entry “Car Wash 10:00am”

He looked up to give you a smirk.

“What?” you asked.

“What do you say about a weekend car wash as a fundraiser?” he said, biting his lower lip. “We kill two birds with one stone: I get funding for the team, and you get your car washed.”

Your heart actually skipped at the thought. Not at the fact that Kim Jongin would be washing your car, but the fact that he had come up with a great fundraising idea. The weather was nice and it was going to be a holiday weekend next week. People will want to have a clean car for their holiday trips. “That’s a great idea!” you squealed, nearly jumping in the air.

Mimicking your smile, Jongin place a finger under your chin, gently turning your head up to look at him straight in the eye. “Actually, we’ll kill a third bird.”

You cocked your head to the side, not understanding what he meant.

“You’ll get to see me half-naked,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, tapping his arm with your clipboard as he pulled away, laughing to himself. “Money first, Kim Jongin.”

“Yes, money first,” he repeated. “Then good-looking, half-naked men, right?”

You shook your head and turned around but couldn’t hide the smile behind your lips. Jongin’s laughter behind you was contagious.

“See you this Saturday, noona!”

-

You finally steered your car into the line at the edge of the parking lot and clenched and unclenched the steering wheel with your sweaty palms. You didn’t know why you were so nervous or why your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat.

You just knew that you had anxiously driven around the block three times on this hot and muggy day, avoiding eye contact with the shirtless swim team member waving around a sign that read “$5 CAR WASH! FUNDS GO TO A GOOD CAUSE!”

It wasn’t until two of your friends had finally sent you a text that they were down the street that you finally pulled into the parking lot.

“Ayla!” You blinked and looked around, finding Chanyeol on the sidewalk also holding a big sign. He gave you a big grin and waved. “Good to see you here!”

“Of course. Here to support the team.” You patted the steering wheel as if to prove your allegiance to the swim team as if you were a big fan of everything they did.

Chanyeol didn’t look like he believed your words either as he pointed behind him. “If you’re looking for Jongin, he’s back there.”

“Ah,” your mouth hung open as you gave a quick scan of the full parking lot. Why did Chanyeol point out Kim Jongin? And now that you found the man, you had to look away quickly. “Thanks, Chanyeol. I’ll see you soon.”

He tipped his baseball cap and went back to waving his sign.

You proceeded to look down at your phone, pretending to be very interested in a text conversation. A shirtless Kim Jongin was just at the other end of the parking lot, talking with a bunch of girls who were similarly clad in very little clothing. He had had a hand on his stomach as if he was shy about all the attention he was getting for his nakedness.

You suddenly felt self-conscious about the outfit you had picked out today. It was a simple yellow tank top with jean shorts. You even put on flip-flops because it was so hot out today. But your bare toenails wiggled at you from the brake pedal. Maybe you should’ve gotten them painted first. All the other girls always wore French tips or dipped powder nails.

But it was hard to justify the time and money spent on getting your nails done when all you ever did was sit at a desk and move numbers around.

A knock came at the roof of your car. “Hey, no texting while driving.”

The voice made you jump and you dropped your phone between your thighs onto the floor of the car as you gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. “Sorry!” you yelped, looking straight ahead…and seeing that none of the cars had moved.

Turning to your side, you found a tanned chest with sculpted abs greet you. You knew that chest from a couple days ago when you had been eye-level with it. Kim Jongin ducked his head in. “Did I scare you, noona?”

“No.” You breathed out a sigh. “I just thought a tree had fallen on my car. You didn’t have to knock so hard.”

“Mm.”

You followed Jongin’s gaze to your lap and bent to pick up your phone. “If my phone is broken, Jongin, you owe me.” You dusted off the screen and turned it on to check.

“A personal show? Gladly.” Jongin let out a chuckle. “When do you have time in your busy schedule? Later tonight?”

You shot him a mock death glare and was thankful to see that he had a teasing grin on his face. “I’m here to get my car washed. That’s all.”

A series of squeals came from a few cars ahead and you craned your neck to find that a group of girls had gathered together and were being hosed down by one of the swim team members.

“Um…” You raised an eyebrow at Jongin.

He shrugged. “A bunch of the girls kept telling us it’s getting too hot today so we offered to cool them down.”

You pushed up your glasses and pressed your lips together, not wanting to say anything about it. This wasn’t your fundraiser anyway.

When the two cars in front of you finally went to a free spot, Jongin opened your door. “I’ll take your car. Go hang out with your friends. There are drinks and hot dogs by the trees.”

As you slowly stepped out of the car, you were slightly amazed by the sight of the refreshment stand. The guys only had a few days to organize this whole thing and they were doing a good job of it. “You guys really thought of everything.”

“I do have perverted treasurer up my ass,” he said with a wink as he took the driver’s seat.

Your jaw dropped. “Perverted?”

Jongin held his hands up in defense. “Who was the one that suggested the boys do a strip show to earn money?”

You closed your eyes and rubbed your temples as Jongin laughed.

“Go get some snacks, I’ll take care of this baby.” He patted the side of your car.

You began walking away, thoroughly embarrassed by Jongin’s comment. You did not outwardly suggest a strip show.

“Oh, noona!”

“Hmm?” You turned back, wondering if you had left something in the car.

But Jongin just grinned. “You should wear shorts more often. You look good in them.”

You forced your mouth not to hang open. “Th-thanks,” you replied stiffly as you turned around again and found your friends. But you seemed to have suddenly forgotten how to walk. The knowledge that Jongin had noticed your legs was making you even more flustered and suddenly you envied the girls that got hosed down a minute ago.

And as you chatted with your friends and drank some lemonade, you couldn’t help but think about Jongin’s compliment. He was always joking, but he seemed genuine when he had said that. Did he actually think your shorts were cute?

Thinking back, you shouldn’t have spent so much time this morning picking out your clothes and deciding which lip colour to wear because you could have spent those extra minutes getting in some more sleep. But Jongin had noticed the effort you had put in, and the thought made you warm inside.

It also made your stomach do a couple flips, and you were too nervous to eat the hot dogs that were being sold so instead you pulled out your wallet and bought one for each other your friends.

You grabbed one more to bring to Jongin as a thank you because you could see him diligently soaping up your car.

“I’ll be right back,” you told your friends.

The oldest girlfriend waggled her eyebrows at you. “Going to see your boyfriend?”

Your eyes bulged. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t say who I was talking about, Ayla,” she said, giggling behind her hand. “But you better go quick or else he’s going to be caught by that group of girls.”

You turned, red-faced, and saw that the same girls who had passed by the pool the other day were talking to Jongin. And they had brought him a lemonade.

You looked down at your hotdog, suddenly regretting your decision to go over there. Of course he would want a lemonade more. It was so hot today and he was working extra hard on your dirty car, trying to get the wheels squeaky clean after your brother had dragged it through the mud and back. He had no time to eat a hot dog when there were so many cars waiting to be washed.

You thought about ripping open the foil of the hot dog and stuffing it into your own mouth instead to hide the pout that was forming.

“Just go over there and talk to him,” your friend said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

You grimaced. “I…I don’t want to bother him.” You didn’t want to be swarming him like the other girls. He already looked uncomfortable enough, his smile tight-lipped, his hand rubbing his neck. He didn’t need another girl taking up his time.

“Ayla.” Your friend grabbed you by the shoulders. “He is washing your car. Himself.”

“That’s because he made me drop my phone earlier. He’s just returning a favour.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “For a girl who’s head of the class, I swear to god…” She turned your chin toward Jongin. “My boyfriend won’t even take out the trash let alone wash my whole car. Jongin is doing it happily out in the sun. And the fact that he keeps looking over at you?”

“He’s not looking over—” You stopped as Jongin glanced over and nodded, as if he had heard what you friend was saying and was just confirming it.

The hotdog suddenly felt like dead weight in your hands.

“Now’s your chance, girl. You got this!”

Before you could say another word, your friend shoved you away from the group so that you had to keep walking. One step at a time, you dragged your feet across the parking lot. There was no turning back now. You were already halfway there.

“Hey, Ayla!” You whipped your head to the male voice but couldn’t pick it out from the crowd. “Lookin’ hot there! Want a cool down?”

A frigid blast of water smacked you in the shoulder and you teetered to the side, trying to hide your face. “Stop—” A pair of arms came around your waist and picked you up off the pavement, turning you to the direction of the hose.

You wanted to scream but the water was directly hitting your face. Quickly, you realized your glasses had been knocked off at some point.

“Hey,” you sputtered, batting away at the water and the arms. “Please, stop.”

But nobody seemed to hear you. They were too busy laughing even as the water went up your nose and you began coughing.

“Ayla!”

Suddenly you felt your world teetering again and the arms let you go. You fell to the hard concrete, your knees getting scratched in the process, but you were just glad to be out of the water. You clutched your chest, trying to catch your breath as you coughed.

“The fuck was that?” you heard Jongin’s voice above you.

Without your glasses, you could only see murky figures, but you could tell it was Jongin standing in between you and the two guys. He shoved one of them back, putting more distance between you.

You watched as their voices rose, but you couldn’t tell who the others were. “We were just trying to get her nice and wet for you, Jongin.”

“What the fuck does that mean? Did I ask for that?” Jongin’s voice shook with anger. “Did she ask for that?”

No answer came from the guys, and you could see that others were forming a crowd to watch what was happening. This was too much attention for you to handle, but you couldn’t run away without your vision. “Jongin,” you murmured. “Do you see my glasses?”

You saw his broad shoulders heave a sigh and then he turned around to face you. You couldn’t tell the specifics of his expression, but you knew he was pissed.

“Here.” He picked your glasses off the ground but didn’t hand them to you. Instead, he helped you stand and put an arm around your waist. “Let’s go.”

Silently, you followed him, because without your glasses, you didn’t know where else to turn.

When he ushered you into a single bathroom stall, it wasn’t until he turned on the tap and began meticulously cleaning your glasses with a paper towel that you realized the two of you were alone.

You rubbed your arms and leaned against the counter. “Thank you, Jongin.”

He didn’t say a word, just continued cleaning.

Seconds passed by and you wondered what he was concentrating so hard about. The faucet was still running and he was still bent over the sink. “Is something the matter?” you asked.

“I…” he trailed off before gingerly handing you the glasses and turning off the tap. “I’m not sure. Try it out.”

You placed them on your face and turned to look at the mirror and realized two things.

Firstly, the frames were bent so they sat on your face in a funny position.

And secondly, you could clearly see the little pink flowers on your bra outlined by your soaked tank top.

“How is it?” Jongin’s voice whispered close to your ear as he peered over your shoulder to look in the mirror.

You spun around, not wanting him to see your embarrassing choice of a bra. “It’s fine.”

He blinked down at you, as if he didn’t quite believe you, and you couldn’t help but notice you were standing too close to him. You backed up a little bit on your toes so your butt could rest of the edge of the counter.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Your hand shot out to grab his shirt—to stop him from turning away and beating himself up—but he didn’t have a shirt on.

Instead, you skimmed his hard abs, sending a shock through your system. You pulled your hand away, but not before hearing him exhale a small hiss.

“Jongin, it’s not your fault,” you pleaded, craning your neck so he could see the sincerity in your eyes.

But he was staring at the ground, shame darkening his eyes.

You put your hands on both sides of his face. “Jongin.” You forced him to look at you. “None of this was your fault. You did great today. Look at everything you organized in a few short days. It’s not the end of the world if there’s a hiccup here or there.”

You smiled, hoping he would copy you, because you realized you enjoyed his smile. You liked it when he teased you. And it made you sad to see him so serious.

“Noona,” he choked out.

You tilted your head, listening hard because his voice was so low. “Hmm?”

“If you don’t let go of me now, I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widened and you realized what kind of position the two of you were in. Somehow, in the span of a few seconds, he was suddenly in between your legs and you had wrapped your ankles around his strong calves, trapping him there.

This position was not appropriate for a fundraiser car wash.

But it was exactly the position you wanted.

You hooked your arms around Jongin’s neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips to his in a gasping kiss. Your body felt electrified as Jongin’s hands quickly came to squeeze your sides, roaming and touching down your back and hips.

You moaned and gave a little nod as he slipped a finger under your tank top, skimming your warm skin. You never wanted to get a soaked piece of clothing off so fast.

He didn’t make it easier for you. He wouldn’t stop kissing you, even as he pulled your top higher and higher until it revealed your flowery bra. You squealed as he expertly popped the clasp.

“Jongin!” You pulled away and held the cups to your skin.

“Too fast?” he asked, panting.

You realized you were just as breathless. “No, but how far are we going? I don’t have a condom with me.”

“Always the planner,” he teased as he slipped the tank top over your head and helped you pulled the bra down your arms. “We have five minutes before people are going to start knocking. Let’s see how much we can squeeze in.”

You whimpered as he kissed the tip of your breast.

“Stop me if it’s too much, noona. I’m going crazy here.” His tongue came out to flick your nipple, making it hard enough so that he could suck it into his lush mouth. His hands pulled up your knees so that your feet landed firmly on the countertop.

Your hands shook as you rushed to unzip the fly of your denim shorts, anything to get these layers of fabric off. With every pull of his mouth on your breast, Jongin was sending waves of empty aches down to your belly.

You cried out as he turned to the other breast, this time less gently. Throwing your head back, you leaned on your arms to steady yourself.

“That’s it, noona. I owe you a good time, don’t I?” His voice was dark and raspy, as if he was having trouble holding himself back. Then, true to his word of giving you a good time, he slid his hand between your legs and pressed a finger to the thin fabric of your underwear. “Fuck, you are so hot.”

You tried to keep your hips still but you couldn’t help raising them, wanting more of him. You wanted him to keep touching to, to never stop. You wanted his lips on your skin, and you wanted his fingers stirring all your sensitive spots.

God, most of all, you wanted him inside you.

You clasped a hand to your mouth to hold back a loud gasp when he suddenly found your clit. “Oh, Jongin. Yes.”

Jongin gave a dark chuckle. “How could I miss it? You’re so swollen.”

He leaned in for a better angle and you had to put an arm around his shoulder, holding yourself in place while he worked his hand. You kissed his collarbone, trying to make this feel just as good for him as he worked hard, his finger quickly running back and forth over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“C’mon, noona. You know you want to let go. I can feel you pulsing around me.” You moaned at his dirty words. “If I could stuff my throbbing hard cock in you right now, I bet your tight pussy would suck me dry. I’d spend all night in between these beautiful legs, making sure you were satisfied.”

“Oh, Jongin,” you whimpered his name through a shaky breath as you clung to him. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Good.” He continued the same pace, the veins on his arms bulging through. “I want you to cream in your panties for me. Just for me.”

You let your head fall back, and he took that opportunity to suck on a sensitive spot on your neck. That was your undoing. You legs curled up, suddenly shaking as your core pulsated. But Jongin continue playing with your poor clit, gently rubbing it back and forth.

Clutching his shoulders, your body seemed to convulse as you crested. You could feel a rush of warm wetness drip into your panties and you couldn’t stop the ongoing orgasm.

It wasn’t until you nearly slipped off the edge of the counter that Jongin took his hands out from between your legs to steady you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes searching your face.

You thought you were seeing double until he adjusted your glasses a little bit. “Mm,” you murmured as a reply.

He laughed and pulled you into a hug, letting your jelly-like limbs rest heavily on his strong body. “Noona, you should know something.”

You could barely open your eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t do casual sex.”

You pulled back, blinking. “What do you mean?” You brain felt fuzzy, and you couldn’t comprehend words and thoughts very well at the moment.

But you could see that he was still hard behind his flimsy swim shorts. “It means I’m going to want you even more from now on.”

You squeezed your thighs together at the thought and you knew he could hear the lewd noise caused by the wetness in your underwear. You snaked an arm around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. “I think I’d be able to find some time in my schedule for you, Jongin,” you teased.

—

THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN LOOOOL I was actually a little stumped by this request because I never do noona stuff since….I’m not a noona to any of my biases lol I also debated between different AUs and I almost did a boxer!jongin but I decided to play it safe and I’m so glad I did because I am actually really happy with how it turned out :3 :3 :3 another note: I had wanted to save the glasses thing for a red riding hood AU but since I never write about glasses, I might as well do it more often!

Thank you for the request @ninibears-erigom ^^ You are always so supportive of all the writers and whenever you reblog a fic, they get a surge in notes (thank you for reblogging my vampire one-shot recently hehehehhehehehe) I hope you liked this one!

Thank you everyone for reading~~~

[eternaljouska]

"sunflower garden" and joshua for the title request thing 🌻💐💕 thanku!!

∆∆∆∆∆ Title Request 2/6 ∆∆∆∆∆

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: I am so so sorry this took a whole eon to finish. Thank you so much for requesting and waiting for this~~ I hope this is satisfactory. Also, I don’t know why this is so long when my plot is, again, questionable lololol

Sunflower is just a little price for such as little happiness. It’s gaseous, happiness. You can smell it. Before it’s gone with the wind just like that. But it’s worth it.

You wonder what would happen if you’re to give out diamond instead. Would people look at you crazy? Lord, even with the obnoxious yellow-orange flowers in your hands, people already look at you crazy.

You are out for a walk near the Han River—it’s a walk for today, not a run, not biking, but a walk—handing out one sunflower for anyone you deem needs some cheering up. There’s a little plastic tag attached to each flower; you’d take your time to write a short encouragement to hide inside it whenever you wait for the florist assistant to prepare your regular. And then you’d go on your way, hunting for gloomy people on your stroll. But that’s it, as long as the stock is still available.

There are people who’d be weirded out by your sudden involvement in their sweet miserable life. No offense. Really. You think all lives are just the same: sweet and simultaneously, miserable. Sometimes, not even sweet at all. But there are others who’d be pleasantly surprised.

There was this one kid from two weeks ago. She had cried, you didn’t know why, but you swept in anyway with your sun in the smiling flowers—please, excuse the poor attempt at replacing a knight in the shining armor. You had continued your pilgrimage after you wiped her tears dry and made sure that she smiled. But when you’re about to start on your religious self-reflection on the bridge, facing the holy sunset of the Han River, someone tugged at the hem of your baby blue sundress.

It was the little girl.

She stood in front of you, a bright smile challenging the sun behind you and a fresh baby breath posy inside both of her tiny palms. You fell on your knees and pulled her in a hug. Lord, you needed a hug. Before you pulled away, you noticed a shadow of a man standing a few feet away under the shade. It must’ve been her father, you’d thought and couldn’t help but think that sunflower needed to cost a lot more than it was.

That was the one time you’d felt the magic at its strongest. And just like humans did, you craved for more.

This kind of outing usually ends with you donating some water to the Han River. But that day, it didn’t. After the little girl ran towards the man, you’d turned around to face the sun with teary eyes. But you didn’t cry. You felt happy. And happiness was every drop of water swimming in the river in front of you. You just stood there, until it swallowed whole the dying sun.

However, today, you cry.

It’s not an ugly cry. People would think you’re a lunatic if they saw you like that. It’s just water, tears, streaming down your eyes and into the river. Your gaze follows the infinitesimal droplet giving in to gravity. You smile. You always think that you’re such a bad person. But now you feel like the best altruist, donating water for the Han River.

Lord, what a joke.

You see your tears falling to your arms hanging from the rail and then continuing their journey somewhere you can’t keep your eyes on. They rarely even fall into the river, just a very insignificant amount does. And now you’re acting as if at least a quarter of Han River is your tears.

You wish everyone was that little girl. Or her father.  You wish that after almost a year doing the same set of activities would make people recognize you and finally return the hospitality with a simple hi or a ghost of an acknowledging smile. No one besides the people from the flower shop does. And as you cry, you think about why nobody’s ever walked to you to ask the reason for your tears.

Maybe they know not to meddle in such a sacred act of crying. Or maybe after almost a year, they know to let you be because you’ll stop eventually and go home. Until the day comes again for you to repeat the habit.

Maybe you should actually change sunflower with diamonds hanging from your neck and circling every inch of your arms, spending your ten-minute walk trying to blind everybody’s eyes. Maybe only that way would people see you. Or maybe not, since they’d be even more blinded to see.

You chuckle at the image of you with a pair of shiny sunglasses copying a supermodel, strutting with hands spread out to make an exhibition out of the diamonds in your possession. You’d lower the sunglasses when people look and throw one random bracelet their way and a necklace to the others. You swear you’re such a funny person, too bad nobody would stick around long enough for that side to start emerging. But then when your laughter dies, you feel pathetic. Have you been crying here because you want someone to notice? What an attention seeker.

And Joshua would have said otherwise and defended you—like he usually has—if only he hadn’t been caught completely off guard.

Joshua’s afternoon exercise is cycling from his neighborhood, around the Han River, and back home, the route only interrupted by a quick stop in his favorite smoothie shop. He rarely brings his friend with him because most of the time, they’ll very likely ruin his zen. They’d start an unnecessary race that messes with his pace and force him to pay for their smoothies and even have the nerve to blame him for the sweat their own bodies produce.

Today, he’s accompanied by Seungcheol and Soonyoung, both of which are clingy—as hell. And the amount of stress he got from his unwise decision was enough to last him half a lifetime. They had argued about who had the largest shadow—very important, he knows—and when Joshua pedaled faster to get ahead of them both, the disaster began.

Soonyoung was the first to realize his attempt to escape, and so he said, “See, Shua can’t take being close to you any longer. I know he only likes me.”

The guy reached his right in no time and Seungcheol, being the mature one that he is, raced him and singsong, “He can only tolerate you because I’m here, though.”

So that’s how Joshua wished a truck would kindly and gently run them over.

But that much stress he could handle. The additional dose they added when they started looking at you weirdly, he couldn’t.

Joshua walked out of the smoothie shop later than usual. All because his highly intelligent friends couldn’t notice the urgency of his tapping foot, the urgency of wanting to be in the right moment and in the right place. He already didn’t see you in his round about the Han River. There’s no way he’d miss you on the bridge. So he did what he knew would raise Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s interest: betting in a race.

Once they all reached the finish line, which obviously was picked by Joshua for a specific reason, Seungcheol and Soonyoung immediately noticed you and wondered aloud as to why you’re crying in front of the bridge. Soonyoung squeaked and almost shouted at you, thinking that you’re planning to jump over the bridge.

It was a fair thought. Joshua was like that the first time he saw you. He’d hesitated to say something, so he waited. He waited with bated breath until the sun completely set and you wiped your face with your hands and left. You rode a lemon-colored bike that matched the yellow of the sunflowers in your hands. You had caught him following you home, and Joshua could only stutter out his explanation. But in the end, when the shadows of worry cleared out of your eyes, you smiled instead. And with a thank you, you gift him the last of your sunflowers.

Joshua doesn’t see your bike anywhere near you, and that fact is somehow unsettling. He has come every weekend, sometimes early enough to witness you doing your sunflower patrol, to know that you only leave your bike home when you do your run. And you doing your run means that your day is worse than usual.

So today is one of those days.

And on those days, he, more than anything, wants to give you back all the sunflowers in the world.

But his friends, flanking him, are watching you with pity in their eyes. The balloon-seller who stopped Soonyoung from shouting for you earlier had told them to let you be, saying that you’ve been here a lot and perhaps just like the attention people give. It had made Joshua wondered for a split second, just how many people in the park recognize you. But it was the least of his priority. It’s the middle-aged man’s remark and Seungcheol’s question that came after he left.

She’s attention seeker or something?

Joshua would’ve defended you against the balloon seller’s comment and his friend’s question any day if it’s not for the fact that he’s too late—if it’s not for the fact that you’ve been listening to the exchange all along.

You meet Joshua’s dark orbs and grasp the worry swarming within them. It’s almost like the first time that you saw him, when you confronted him for following you home. Only back then, his worry was slightly muted by a hint of curiosity. And now, listening to the conversation of the men around him, you think you have an idea as to why he’s looking at you like he’s ready to throw himself under a bus.

The words that his friends said didn’t hit the mark, not after you just admitted it to yourself earlier, admitted that you indeed want the attention, just not the one that people have been giving you—if they even spare you any. You know that Joshua feels horrible about his friend’s question or the seller’s comments. Or maybe because of the fact that you heard them, you can never know.

You’ve seen him around on the weekends, Joshua. You’ve seen hovering around the bridge, watching you—or the sunset. And sometimes he might follow you to your neighborhood. You know you should be worried, but after that first meeting, you’ve accepted his presence in your periphery. If only he would move a little bit to your line of vision.

Joshua never said hi. He never uttered any more word after he left with your sunflower that first night. And he blames his insurmountable stupidity for that. He likes to conjure up his ideal next meeting with you, the perfect words, the majestic setting. There would be no more of that, he’s afraid. His friends have ruined it. You had met his stare for long seconds before you turned around and left for the direction of your neighborhood. And Joshua hadn’t been able to follow you because of his hellish friends. They finally noticed that his expression was made up of not only of exhaustion only when they invited him to Wonwoo’s house for games.

Joshua brushed them off, but they knew. As hellish as they were, they’re still his friends. So he told them about you. Their reaction at the end of his story, the immense guilt written in the line of their faces, was a little victory for him. But then they forced him to go to where you live and send their apology before they do it themselves since she doesn’t know them yet.

And so here he is, standing in front of a house approximately a third of his in size, but of which small lawn is in much better care than his wider one. He smiles at the variety of flowers that it has, imagining you crouching in front of each one and giving them such meticulous attention. He realizes it then that he knows nothing about you other than your love for flowers. You must have spent a lot of money on flowers alone, but the house in front of him gives him the impression that you come from a more humble family. Do you work? Or are you still in school? Do you live with your parents at all? Are they still present? Suddenly, the prospect of talking to you, trying to draw an explanation of your daily ritual, seems very absurd for him, for someone who has no clue of who you are. It seems beyond personal. It seems out of the line.

Joshua grunts and knocks his head to the solid surface in front of him and let it stay there only to realize five seconds too late just what it was that he has done. He heard the running steps first and then suddenly you’re in front of him.

Joshua’s eyes are blown wide in surprise as he takes a few scurrying steps backward.

You still have your face on the window, flipping the curtain a little bit to identify the person outside your door, but Joshua is stupefied. You were so close to him, so close that if the window isn’t there, his lips probably have had brushed against your temple. This is so not the moment for him to think about such a thing, not when he could’ve broken your glass window with his head bump. Not when you’re standing on the doorway, eyes equally wide, with your almost translucent long white nightdress.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“Is this about your friends?” In the span of a couple of seconds, you have closed the door behind you and stood less than three feet away from him. You’re hugging yourself. The night air must be cold for you in your nightdress, and Joshua feels a knot forming in his stomach. He can’t imagine you chose to sacrifice the warmth of your house as to not let him inside is a good sign. But after he let it settled, he knows it’s the sensible option. He would be wary if you had let him in that easily, he’s still a stranger after all.

And to be frank, if you had the time to consider your action, you don’t know what choice you would choose. You had been hiding under your blanket, going over the conversation you heard and kept listening to a couple of hours earlier when there’s a glaring sound coming from outside. You had jumped out of your bed and ran to your window to see, but you weren’t prepared for the sight in front of you. It took you a fraction of seconds to put the name into its face, and without being completely aware of what you did, you had opened the door and walked a few steps towards Joshua.

He scans your stance, takes a short glance towards your house, and then stares back at you, which makes you feel suddenly conscious of how you present yourself in front of him. “Say it,” you demand, placing more force on your voice than necessary.

“I’m, I’m sorry. They’re sorry. They wanted me to say it because they don’t know how to do it. Because you don’t know them.”—he clears his throat again—“Not that we know each other, but you know, I’m more, um, familiar with you, you know. But they want to say sorry too, I mean, I come so that you can meet them, that is, if you want.” You hear him grumbles, probably scolding himself for the quality of the words coming out of his mouth, not that you think they are bad.

“Hm,” you mumble noncommittally before you continue, “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel sorry.”

“But—“

“Their words missed the mark. I do want attention. That doesn’t make it right, but… I was thinking about their words, and, um, they brought out some truth I’ve been struggling with. So it’s okay, I guess.”

Joshua doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to, so he just looks at you, struggling to contain the questions building up inside of him. He wants you to share that truth. He wants to know more about your sunflower patrol, but he’s not certain you would tell him even if he begs you. Lord, he wants to know. Why had you forgiven his friends’ words so easily? Why had you accepted them? He was about to burst when you finally slice the thick silence and blurt out, “You never said hi.”

Joshua blinks. And he can feel his whole body burns red with the shame washing over him. All the whys he’s asking is now turned inward. Why, why hadn’t he said something? Why hadn’t he come to you? What’s his reason? His excuse?

When he finds the answer, he let out a soft scoff. “Because I’m afraid. Because I’m a coward.”

He would never guess that you could deviate so far from his expectation, but you did. You smile and whisper, strangely proudly, “And I’m an attention-seeker.” He doesn’t know why, but that brings out a smile out of him also. But then you turn around and walk towards your house, to quickly for him to register. His smile was almost replaced by panic when you say, “It’s cold. Let’s talk inside.”

She brews him a cup of hot chamomile tea, and Joshua has the sure knowledge that the warmth within him comes not from that tea or the four walls encircling him. “I, um, I’m sorry. I was afraid you’d think of me strangely if I walked to you when you, um, you know, when you were crying on the bridge.” She laughs at that, and the sound of it warms him even more.

“And yet you follow me home after,” she taunts. Joshua’s eyes grow wide again, he always makes sure to keep his distance and to bike away once you enter your neighborhood. He’s never followed you home completely like that first night he saw you. “Don’t worry. After that first night, I don’t mind your presence anymore. But I do wish you’d just come to me and offer your company directly.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just—“

“Stop saying sorry or I’ll kick you out of my house.” Ah, right, your house. He hasn’t had the chance to look around with his nerve eating up him. But this house… The white wall opposite of the window, the wall in front of him, has considerable amount of picture frames: some containing real pictures, some with dried flowers inside. So you live alone, he concludes. The sound of a cleared throat snaps him out of his attempt to learn more about you by observing your home, and Joshua wishes he could be clever enough to try a more subtle method.

“I wanted them to be diamonds, you see,” you start, but Joshua has no clue of what you’re trying to say. “The sunflowers. I might not seem like it, but I have the money to do so. But that would attract the wrong kind of attention. Even sunflowers already did so.”

Joshua’s heart races at the realization of the direction this conversation is going. You’ll let him know. You’ll let him know. He bites his lips to prevent himself from saying stupid things that will make you stop telling him your story.

“When you do something good, is it so wrong that you wish a little something in return? I just want to be that unexpected kindness someone’s hoping to make their day better, you know, like when you have such a bad day, and the smile of the bus driver acknowledging you is like the greatest present you’ve received in your life? I can’t hope people stop and compliment me every time I have a bad day to better my mood. I used to go to this park back then when I was a child. They have a small section dedicated for sunflowers. I remember how happy I always was when I visited the park. So I tried one day, giving out flowers, sunflowers, to stranger on the street. And I keep doing it. Because the surprise on their faces, their smiles, they make me feel good about myself. Wow, I realize it now. Saying things out loud really makes a difference, huh?”

“W-what?” Joshua stutters out, caught off guard once again. “It’s not—It’s not bad that you do it to make yourself happier. It may sound self-centered, but everyone is all about themselves first anyway, right? That’s how it supposed to be. You take care of yourself. And what you do while doing so, it makes other people happy also. So that’s good, right?”

You let out a single laugh. “You think so? I just— the people who are there a lot, they say things that make me feel bad about myself. After hours of going around with flowers, I’d hear them say those things and the happiness just gone. It becomes a burden, somehow, I don’t know.”

Joshua doesn’t know what to say, and never in his life before does he feel more useless than he does at this moment. That is, until he remembers what he shoved inside his pocket before he rode his bicycle to your house. He jerks into movement and he can feel your apt attention on him. He reaches into his pocket, takes the small object out, and offers it to you.

You accept the small pin from his hand. It’s a sunflower pin with eyes and a curving lines on its face and some words engraved on the bottom part of it. I am a smiling flower, it says. It’s so pretty, so so pretty even with tears starting to blur your vision. “I’m not good with words. I’m always scared of saying the wrong words, so I resort to not saying anything,” Joshua says, his hand reaching for the back of his neck now. “When I saw that pin, you came to my mind, so yeah… Um, I know not everyone appreciates flowers, but I know you do. You… I think you’re like a smiling flower, so I hope that more than anyone, you can appreciate yourself, like you do flowers.”

You’re stunned, still looking down at the pin, but with tears clearly lining your eyes. You look up and smile at him. You notice his surprise at the sight of your tears, but you pay it no heed. You rise from your seat and he follows suit in reflex, but that action allows you more freedom to do what you want to do next.

Joshua believes he’s already dead when you wrap your arms around him, but his thundering heart crushes that belief. It’s not his current main problem, though. His ultimate problem now is where he’s supposed to put his own hands, which are now limp on his side. He raises them slowly only to find that you already let him go. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Oh? Yes, no problem,” he answers instantly. His heart still won’t calm down, but that’s not what bothers him at the moment. He knows it’s coming. Goodbye. It’s coming any time now. And he’s not ready. He doesn’t know if he’d have the courage to talk to you again if he has to say goodbye now. Quick. Think of something. “Oh!”

“Oh?”

“The, um, the meeting with my friends? Can you, would you want to do that?”

“Ah, that,” you chuckle softly, “of course.”

Both of you share a few moments of silence until you chuckle again, “Goodnight, um…”

“Joshua,” he says. In all honesty, you already know his name, but you refuse to present yourself like a creep that you’d already know his name, in case he doesn’t know yours yet. You walk him to your door and repeat what you said, “Goodnight, Joshua.”

“Goodnight…”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he speaks your name as if it’s the first time he’d heard it, and it may be so, for you don’t think even the sellers around the Han River know your name. You don’t have friends that would holler your name like crazy as Joshua’s friends, that’s why, although you imagine that that certain friends would meet you soon enough for their said apology.

Just before you close your door on him—knowing that he would not go until you do so—you call him, “Hey, Joshua.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not as cowardice as you think you are, you know. I’ve seen you defending me against people’s comments in the park.” His eyes widen again, and you decide that is one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen. When it’s apparent that he’s handled the surprise of you knowing his small act, you say your request, “Talk to me tomorrow?”

There, there, his eyes grow even wider, and you chuckle. “Make sure that you do. Be careful on your way home. Goodnight.”

“Y/n, wait.” The closing door stops moving and you open it a little bit more to let your head out. “I know this place. The, um, the owner is my mom’s friend. She loves flowers too, has her own garden and all. But only recently did she become obsessed with sunflowers. You know, one day her youngest daughter brought a sunflower home, and she suddenly felt this renewed and expanse fondness of sunflowers.” Joshua’s stare flickers upward and finally notice the eyebrow you raised at him.

Your point? You seem to say.

“My point is, I want to take you there. I can ask for her permission and take you there,” he finishes with a long exhale.

“For the meeting with your friends?” you ask.

“No! I mean, no,” he clears his throat, “No, for, um, our talk, tomorrow. I’m going to make sure that I do.”

He smiles at the end of his sentence, and you return it. “Can we bike there?”

“It’s pretty close, yeah.”

“Alright, then. Pick me up anytime.” You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing and for the third time tonight, you half-whispers, “Goodnight, Joshua.”

“It is,” Joshua murmurs after you closed your door, his smile bigger than the one on the sunflower pin’s face. “It is a good night indeed.”