#but ultimately he did get a wind god's help to get them home faster

[superineffable]

eurylochus wouldnt have really lasted as a captain, right? not because he was slowly getting blinded by his hunger or whatever, but did the other crew not see he was the one who opened the bag?? idk if i was crew and we were so so so close to home and someone opened the bag that the captain said not to open, causing a storm to blow the ship so damn far, i'd be going mad at whoever opened the bag

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards Pt. V

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI

    Alright so maybe you spoke too soon; the four of you were going to do great things, minus Tommy. Technoblade had finally agreed to let you join Tommy and him on an adventure into L’manberg. The plan was to crash their festival, and ultimately attempt to get Tommy’s discs back from Dream and Tubbo. You expected your first adventure into the country to be fun, if anything you’d get to steal some shit, what you didn’t expect was to be thrown in the middle of a public dispute. 

Clearly, you underestimated what ‘getting the discs back’ actually entailed. 

You and Technoblade were back to back swords drawn, surrounded by about thirty people in the ruin of what was once deemed a community house. Technoblade never would’ve agreed to let you come if he thought the confrontation with Dream was going to be this serious, he assumed they’d watch from afar. If things got to dicey Tommy and him would rush in and he’d have you stay behind to watch from afar. If only he could’ve predicted someone blowing up a random building would cause such turmoil. 

Nothing could ever come up Technoblade.

   “Yah know when you first invited me out to partake in a festival for some reason I didn’t expect to be attacked by like thirty people.” You chirped a hesitant smile on your face as Technoblade made a confused sound. 

   “You definitely should’ve expected it,” Technoblade grumbled, barely taking his eyes off of Tommy and Tubbo’s argument. You watched Techno’s back but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the boys conversation as well. As much as your heart broke for the two war-torn children, you had your alliance first and foremost with your boyfriend. You also couldn’t help but feel this conversation should be happening privately but here they were airing things out seemingly for the first time in front of everybody. Speaking of your boyfriend, your attention was drawn back to him as he caught Tommy’s attention, “be very careful what your decision is here Tommy.” 

You narrowed your eyes and took a step in front of Technoblade, he made his classic ‘heh’ sound as you did so. You felt his hand grip your forearm and tighten trying to hold you back in case you wanted to do something stupid. 

   “Tommy, come home with us.” You held out your hand to him, the one Technoblade didn’t have a hold of obviously. “Phil’s waiting for us, we’ll get your discs back together as we planned.” The smile on your face could part the cloudiest of days and it broke Tommy’s heart, she had given him something that he hadn’t had since the war with Dream began.

A home. 

   “(Y/N),” That’s the first time he used your name, the first time you weren’t just Ms Blade. It broke your heart and you whimpered a little bit, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me. But I can’t go back with you and Technoblade. I don’t like what I’ve become, this isn’t me. I’m sorry. I hope one day we can be friends again. Tubbo give Dream my disc.” You leaned back into Technoblade in disbelief, Tommy had just betrayed Technoblade right before your very eyes. The man who gave Tommy the clothes on his back and a place to stay when no one else would. Weapons to help him fight against Dream when everyone else abandoned him, even though they all treated Technoblade as a weapon he still went out of his way to help Tommy. Your hands clenched into fists at your side as Dream let out a roaring laugh collecting the disc from Tubbo. He called the two children stupid right to their face and no matter how angry you were with them that was harsh, it’s like everyone in this country forgets that they are children. Children fuck up, it’s how they learn and it’s in their nature why does no one here understand that. You looked up at Techno your eyebrows furrowed and you pressed your lips tight but he didn’t take his eyes off Dream, he had different priorities in mind. 

Protecting you from the Dreamon if anything went south. 

Dream continued to mock and criticize the people of L’manberg before turning to you and Technoblade. The mask he wore may hide his facial expressions, but it couldn’t mask the unadulterated glee in his voice. Technoblade pulled you behind him as Dream stepped closer to the both of you, you felt a growl rumble in Technoblade’s chest, 

   “That’s close enough.” 

   “Down boy.” Dream mused, holding up his hands to show faux innocence. “I have no issues with the both of you. Tomorrow, with your help, Technoblade and woman.”  

   “(Y/N).”

   “Don’t tell him your name.” Technoblade gaped at you and you only could huff in frustration, 

   “Better than just being called woman! Plus Tommy already said it.”  

With an eye-roll Dream continued his speech, “With the help of Technoblade and (Y/N) L’manberg is going to be a crater. We’re blowing it sky-high.” Dream turned over to face Tubbo once again, “I had to pretend to be friends with you, to get the dumb disk back! I don't care about you. I'm not your friend. Okay? I cared about getting the disk back, and I got the disk back. I got it back. And that's-that's- that's the only thing that really matters. You can't even run your nation right. RANBOO IS A TRAITOR. ONE OF YOUR MOST TRUSTED FRIENDS.”

Your eyes widened as you spotted another child looking horrified, it was the half enderman from the butcher gang. You’re adopting him next.

   “NO, IT IS TRUE. READ THIS BOOK. READ THIS BOOK. There's his memory book. He was meeting with Techno and Tommy and told them EVERYTHING. The proof’s all his own memories! He writes it down! You can't even run your own nation correctly Tubbo. Listen. Tubbo, you, I mean you, ... L'Manberg is weaker than it's ever been, and it's because of you! You have- you have destroyed everything. You have ruined your friendships. You have ruined L'Manberg's allies. You have just-you are a horrible president Tubbo.” Dream continued as Tubbo looked sick to his stomach, you felt just as nauseous.

   “YEAH, YOU SUCK TUBBO!”

   “TECHNOBLADE!” 

   “What?” He flinched at your tone, “he’s right!” 

   “They’re children,” You tried to argue but Dream cut you off by stepping in between you and Technoblade. Your pulse skyrocketed as you were separated, and you made sure an ender pearl was at the ready. Tommy looked at the both fo you nervously, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes when you defended Tubbo. Tommy turned over to Tubbo who honestly looked just as shocked that a partner of Technoblade’s would defend him, espeically considering he had tried to kill her a few days prior. Tommy had hope that he wasn’t completely dead to you.

   “Techno. Got any withers?” You watched a sickening smile spread across Techno’s lips he picked at his nails. 

   “I got a few.” 

   “Good. Then I’ll see you all tomorrow when the L’manberg loses its last cannon life,” Dream announced before disappearing into the wind. The citizens turned to face you and Technoblade, he only had to utter a single word:

   “Run,” Before both of you pearled away from the wreckage of the community house. 

Technoblade scooped you up in his arms as he made his way through the Nether portal back to his base. He was much faster than you were and you didn’t fight him on wanting to make a quick getaway. You both were silent on the way back to his base, bottom line was you didn’t know how you felt about what just went down. On one hand, destruction was your middle name and you weren’t going to oppose blowing a government to smithereens with your boyfriend.  

Nothing could be more romantic than that. 

Yet at the same time, unlike Technoblade, you felt the guilt eat away at you. These were people’s homes, and lives you’d be destroying tomorrow. Most of the citizens you had no affiliation with, which you were grateful for, but those you did you almost couldn’t justify blowing the country up. Tommy was by all accounts dead to Technoblade and by that extent you as well. Still, you didn’t want to see him physically dead, it wasn’t his fault he got corrupted by the government and a homeless teletubby.

You were starting to sound like Technoblade now too.  

You made a sound of distress and Techno glanced down at your form, his face flushed as you nuzzled your nose against his neck. 

   “You okay princess?” 

   “No…” You answered with a sigh, you reached out and twirled a strand of his pink hair through your fingers. “Tommy’s gone, we’re going to blow up a country tomorrow. I feel bad for the people we’re gonna leave homeless. So, no I’m not okay bubs.” The socially awkward man winced a little as he battled with what to say to you, he tends to forget you both aren’t the same person. For as much as both of you agree, you were still different from him, you had more empathy than he could ever wish to have. 

   “You don’t have to come.”  

He watched a frown appear on your face as you pulled away from him. You clicked your tongue in distaste, a sure sign that you were about to pick a fight with the blood god. You were one opponent he could never seem to defeat. That did not come out the way he intended. 

Time to backtrack before he got his ass handed to him. 

   “What I mean is, you have no affiliation with L’manberg. You have no prior issues you need to settle with them so technically you can stay home tomorrow, no one would blame you. You’d be safer away from the explosions, I’d feel better with you at home.”

   “That way you’d only have to worry about Phil tomorrow right?” 

   “Well, that’s part of it,” He stated bluntly, never one to be dishonest. “He has only one life and he’s going to want to fight, he has a lot to avenge. The government drove his eldest son mad, enough that Phil had to kill him. He’s one of my oldest friends, I wanna look out for him and protect him.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly at his response, you brushed your thumb across his cheek fondly. 

   “You’re wrong.” 

   “Eh?”

   “I do have something I want to fight for, I want to fight for what I believe is right. Let’s face it Techno the way everyone’s treating those children is sick. Dream manipulated Tommy and used Tubbo to get what he wanted from him. I know you did what you thought was right for Tommy but he’s a product of a war-torn country, they all are. Now, that doesn’t excuse his betrayal but… did he even know what the right thing to do was in this situation, does he even truly know what peace is? I want to fight to protect those kids. They deserve to know peace, true peace away from bloodshed and war. If I can I want to give them that.” You watched Technoblade’s jaw tighten, “I’m going with you tomorrow but I’m not going to kill the children.” 

   “I don’t think I can ever forgive Tommy.” He sighed adjusting his grip on you a sure sign he was nervous, “but I love you.” Techno kissed you once again, it was long and tender you watched as the apples of his cheeks turn red after you both pulled away. He took a breath, “You’re unstoppable and you’ve never stopped me before so I won’t do the same for you. Just stay safe. Please. You need to come home with me tomorrow I won’t settle for anything else.” 

   “I will. I promise.” You pressed a light kiss to his cheek, and he hummed gently in response. “I love you Technoblade, I’ll fight beside you. Till the end of the line.”

   “Till the end of the line,” He repeated as you both approached the snow-covered house to convene with Philza Minecraft himself.

~~~

Hi guys! Officially feeling a bit better, enough to get a small part out before I work on the next chapter. I hope you like it, thanks so much for reading and your amazing feedback. Also, thanks so much for your kind words and well wishes! Also, also, If anyone ever makes fanart of this story (I doubt it would happen) please tag me and let me know. I love to make art myself and always wanna support other artists! Thanks Again!

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)

I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence. 

Chapter 1 can be found below.  Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;) 

Enjoy xx

Chapter 1 - La Guardiana

Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly. 

“I’m so done with eating bananas, man,” he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, “Can’t we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?”

As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily. 

“We just might, JJ,” said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, “We just might.”

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

“I’m actually starving,” laughed Sarah, nudging John B’s arm, “Don’t tease!” “Hey, so am I,” he cooed, “First joint we find, we’re going in for food.” Kiara rolled her eyes, “As much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.” Sarah nodded, “Mhm, nothing at all.” “Nada,” John B looked at the two girls sternly, “And when has that ever stopped us exactly?” Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, “Alright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy I’d need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.”

The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadn’t had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldn’t help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore. 

The street wasn’t crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster they’ll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasn’t helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result. 

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Pope suggested, “Neither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, I’d say we have nothing to worry about.” John B smirked at his friend’s remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it. 

“La Cubanita Hotel and Restaurant” it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building. 

On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didn’t put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town. 

The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what he’d give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm. 

“JJ,” she urged, “Waitress is here!” In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, handsome?” She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Uh…” JJ fumbled with the menu, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.” He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Pogues’ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him. 

She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didn’t mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldn’t make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didn’t really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadn’t touched a female in so long, he didn’t know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friends’ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl. 

She looked up at him, “Can I help you?” “Brown…” JJ mumbled to himself. “Excuse me?” She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. “Name’s JJ,” he said suavely, “I’m not from around here-“ “Clearly,” she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, JJ?”

JJ smirked, “What can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.” The girl snickered under her nose, “Sure. Well since you’re here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,” she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Should I take that or will you?” She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. “Oh, uh, don’t sweat it…” he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friends’ booth. “So much for customer service,” Sarah laughed. “And to think my dad says I’m hostile to our customers,” Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. “La Guardiana,” Pope read out loud, “This place is called La Guardiana, and apparently we’re somewhere in Florida.” “Florida?” John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu. 

La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diego’s Crescent, La Guardiana, FL 

“Holy shit, we’re in Florida!” John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, “Calm down now, Sancho, let’s not draw any attention to us,” “Yeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,” teased Pope, nodding his head in JJ’s direction, “Was it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?” JJ snapped at Pope, “Hey, man, just ‘cuz you don’t have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,” “Yeah, I really want to attract the staff’s attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as we’re the only other busy table at this place.” “Your food,” the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Pogues’ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, “Relax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we won’t even need to sneak out without paying!” Pope gave JJ a fake smile, “Mhm, I’m sure she’s gonna be so deep under your spell she won’t even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. “Might even offer us a place to crash, you know, because she’ll be so captivated by you.” Pope continued to tease. “Yeah, chicks totally dig this whole I’m homeless and I haven’t properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,” Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, “Yeah, and the bit that’s gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.” Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, “Talk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, you’ll see who’ll dig what.” “The rest of your order,” he recognised the girl’s voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John B’s plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJ’s ear, “Next time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.” She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, “Oh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friend’s right. That shit doesn’t work around here.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didn’t waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. “I’m guessing you’ll want another one?” She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. “Let’s see… Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? Hmm…” she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJ’s now panicking ones. “Please don’t call the cops,” he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, “Look, we - we were in a boat accident, we don’t even know how we got here, hell - we didn’t even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we don’t have  any documents on us, we don’t have any sort of identification, what would you -“ “Relax, kid,” the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, “I won’t rat you out.” She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, “Thank you, really… That means a lot.” The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. “Hey,” she said, “I told you to relax, didn’t I. I won’t charge you for your food, in fact… I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.” JJ’s eyes grew wider at her words, “You what?” She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, “Hotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. She’s currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.” She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? “So, uh, what’s in it for me?” He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. “Samara, how many times do I have to tell you?” Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, “No drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heather’s gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?” She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, “Besides, Georgia, as far as I’m concerned, since they’re both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,” she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldn’t believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. “Guys-“ JJ tried getting their attention. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’re totally screwed!” “They’re gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!” “Guys!” JJ yelled, catching even the bikers’ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.” He smirked before telling them what had just happened. “Hold on,” said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, “So this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?” “Next Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?” JJ scratched his head. “JJ!” Kiara slapped his arm, “What if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesn’t it? Like, what’s in it for her? We don’t even know her! What if she’s a murderer or something?” “She’s right, you know,” Cleo chimed in. “She is,” said John B, “But we have nothing to lose, literally.” Pope nodded, “I’d usually agree with Kie, but John B’s right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, I’m sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.” Everyone laughed at Pope’s remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, “So what’s the plan?” Realisation just struck JJ that he didn’t in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgia’s notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:

Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms. 

JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.

[fallingappleshurt]

63 with Wilbur and Techno. Bonus if it's a flashback to their childhood after wilbur's death.

Hi yes I write things I swear

So the second part of the request is more directly implied than outright stated so oops but yeah! Also this takes place in some modern AU because the SMP is tiring me

all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight

TW: swearing, major character death (already dead not- they are just grieving)

Techno felt like he was watching himself in a painting, a shitty, hazy painting. One where the artist got frustrated and gave up halfway through, smearing the paint up and down and across the canvas in rage.

He couldn’t focus- the smudges on his glasses were distracting and unwanted tears building up in his eyes were blurring the words on his assignments together.

The sky was screaming, the wind whipped at the trees and slapped at the house, thunder shook the clouds and lightning slipped through the cracks. It was raining so hard Techno couldn’t see out his window.

Sharp and painful feelings that he tried so hard to crush were bubbling up along with tears in his eyes- he couldn’t do this. He had at least 3 assignments due at midnight and 2 missing ones that he couldn’t find the motivation to do, he should probably shower, he felt gross- and the rain made him think of Wilbur-

Oh god Wilbur.

If Wilbur were here he’d make Techno take a break after teasing him for awhile, hanging upside down on Techno’s bed and commenting on his fantastic posture.

He jammed his hands in his hair, nails getting caught on the tangles and coating his hands with grease, pulling and digging his fingers into his scalp. This was the last thing he wanted to think about was Wilbur- fuck- his stupid fucking hair was getting in the way.

Phil had tried to get him to take care of it again but even brushing his hair felt like a hassle and Wilbur wasn’t there to braid it. Techno knew how to braid and care for his own hair- but Wilbur would always do it- he used to.

His chest was tight- ribs mending together and crushing his lungs- no he had to focus- just get these assignments done- the thunder cracked outside again.

Tears burned his face, he was tired, so tired, he knew he didn’t have the right to be but he was- he went to grab his pencil only to accidentally jerk at his hair again.

He snapped, shoving his papers and books off the desk, jumping up so fast his chair fell over.

Techno pushed his door open and stomped into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers in the dark like a mad man, washcloths and toothbrushes and bandaids being shoved aside until he found the scissors.

He grabbed a chunk of his hair- yanking it so he could see it better- and lined the scissors up. He paused, tears clouding his vision to the point where he could barely see himself- did he really want to get rid of it? Of something that took so long to grow- something Wilbur liked so much?

His eyes flickered to the small nightlight on the wall.

He bit his tongue and sliced through his hair.

Iron filled his mouth as he threw his hair on the floor, snipping wildly at the other parts, ripping them away, feeling the jagged ends brush against his face and neck.

Techno dropped the scissors, he stumbled out of the bathroom and back towards his room- it felt unfamiliar but homey at the same time- it smelled like dust and ink.

He collapsed on the already made bed, it was soft and enveloped in him in a cool but familiar sheet of grief.

He wrapped his arms around the pillow, that smelled like the shampoo that Wilbur had insisted on using, holding it to his chest, and somehow fell asleep.

“You’ve been sitting there for the last 3 hours, I thought you’d be finished by now.” Wilbur commented, flopping down on Techno’s bed.

“Shut up.”

Wilbur snorted, “You’re in a mood.”

Techno gripped his pencil tighter, “Go away- I’m busy.”

“You’ve said that a lot recently-”

“Cause I’ve been busy so fuck off!”

Wilbur rolled off the bed, setting his hand on Techno’s shoulder, “You need a break-”

“I need to finish this project-”

“It’s due on Monday, you’ll still have the rest of the weekend to finish it, now come on, we’re going on a walk.”

“But it’s raining,”

“So? That’s what makes it fun, besides it's basically summer so it’s warm.”

Techno let Wilbur drag him out of his room, past Tommy who was passed out on the couch with the TV blaring, and through the kitchen towards the garage.

“Leave your shoes.”

“What?”

“Walking barefoot in the rain feels much better than with shoes, now come on! You’re so slow!”

They walked out of the garage and were immediately pelted with fat drops of water as the sky dumped buckets on them. Wilbur grinned and they continued down the driveway and down the sidewalk.

Techno felt like an idiot, walking in the rain in shorts and a t-shirt with his twin, but strangely, he didn’t mind it. Wilbur closed his eyes and put his head back, smiling widely, letting the rain hit his face and drench his hair.

Barely anybody was out, Techno could see faint light filtering from other peoples windows but the streets were clear, he watched leaves and twigs get swept down the little rivers that ran down the curb every time it rained.

Wilbur grabbed his hands suddenly, spinning them around, Techno was barely able to stop himself from falling.

“What-”

“Come on Tech! Move your feet, get your blood flowing!” Wilbur twisted them around again, laughing. His laugh was like little drops of sunlight in the sea.

Techno snorted, trying to keep up with Wilbur’s rapid pace.

They spun themselves at a shitty old field by the middle school, where the buses would park over the summer and the people would let their dogs run. The asphalt was gray and cracked, huge potholes filled with water and pebbles.

Wilbur pulled him along, urging him to go faster, until they were running. They ran through the puddles, splashing muddy water on their legs. Techno ran and ran, feeling the wind in his hair that was simultaneously sticking to his forehead, his feet hit the ground so hard he thought they might bleed but he finally felt like he wasn’t wrapped in a foggy haze.

Wilbur nearly tripped twice and Techno couldn’t see out of his glasses but for the first time in months he felt like he could breathe.

Eventually they went back home, creeping through the house Techno went to get changed and dry himself off, once he did he sat back down to work on his project again. Only for Wilbur to poke his head through the door, droplets of water still clinging to his hair.

“Oh no you don’t, I just got you to loosen up, you gotta stay loose. Come here,”

“I really should be working-”

“Shut up and let me braid your hair.”

Techno found himself in Wilbur’s room sipping a cup of hot chocolate, curled up on the bed with Wilbur running his fingers through his hair, sectioning it off for braids.

It was still pouring outside, rain pattering against the window, the ceiling fan creaked and rattled mixing in with the TV’s soft melody of a cheesy old show Techno hadn’t seen in years. The multicolored Christmas lights Wilbur had taped to the wall were glowing softly but still brighten the room.

When Wilbur finished the last braid he leaned against his twin, his hot chocolate forgotten on the desk, “Stay the night with me?” He asked quietly, “It’ll be just like old times.”

Techno nodded and Wilbur laid his head on his shoulder, just like old times.

Phil had been worried when he woke muffled thumps and bangs coming from the hall but after quickly investigating found that they were safe.

He felt the panic flare up again for a moment when he peered in and saw Techno wasn’t in his room and it was in complete disarray but relaxed when he found him in Wilbur’s room, curled up, fast asleep.

He wondered if he should wake him and ask if he was alright but ultimately stopped himself, he couldn’t do that to him, even in the dim light Techno looked more at peace then he had in months.

It had been months since Wilbur died and Phil’s chest burned everyday, there was a piece missing from his home, his heart, his family, he lost his songbird.

He knew it affected his other sons too, Tommy flipped between loud fits of rage and sadness, screaming or sobbing softly, while Techno was barely managing to scrape by as human.

Wilbur and Tommy were close but Wilbur and Techno had been by each other's sides since birth.

He remembered Wilbur refusing to leave Techno’s side when he was sick and how Techno never missed one of his concerts. The paper crowns and crudely made flags and swords as they decided they were the most fearsome duo that would conquer the land one day.

They never got that far.

Phil knew Techno tried to put on a brave front but it was cracking, piece by piece, baggy eyes, slipping grades, and forgetting to eat. He had tried to help but nothing seemed to be working, Techno was slipping into a husk of himself.

Wilbur may have been in a casket but any fool could see Techno was the dead one.

[satendou]

⟼ a locked room

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: kuroo tetsuro/reader

⇢ au: college!au

⇢  summary: yeah, it was cliche getting locked in a room with him, but the universe is vindictive sometimes. at least you got what you wanted.

⇥  masterlist

⇥ make a request! | rules

⇢ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, pre-relationship, fingering, cowgirl, mild daddy kink

⇢ word count: 4.7k

a/n: this one is pretty tame but it’s really just pwp so you know, take it for what it is. once again beta’d by my wonderful wife @keijiskitten​. she takes requests as well!

The final slam of the door echoed through the now empty gym as the rest of Kuroo’s teammates walked out. Most of them had offered to stay and help him clean up, but since they had been working hard at practice and deserved a break, he had declined. The floor was still littered with volleyballs, but two of the more persistent members had insisted on at least putting the nets up. He couldn’t deny he was happy about that.

The squeak of gym shoes broke the silence and Kuroo whipped around, catching sight of you coming out of the club room, holding a volleyball under your arm.

“Hey, hey, hey, _____,” he said, waving in your direction. His heart thumped a bit faster in his chest as you smiled back, gently kicking balls towards him, herding them closer to the basket. “What’re you still doing here?”

As the team manager, you helped out with the expenses of the team as well as anything else they needed, and you often found yourself staying late with the members assigned clean up duty. Such was the case tonight; you had been in the club room making sure that the funds were set up for the team to get to their next match. The championships were coming up and your team was determined to win, and you were doing everything you could to support them.

You smiled as you heard his greeting, a small laugh escaping as you thought of Bokuto. They had been friends since high school, so it was only natural Kuroo would pick up some of Bokuto’s habits. The first time he had shrieked it on the court after winning a game,  Bokuto in the stands had screamed it back at him and sent the whole court into hysterics. 

The memory almost made you burst into giggles again, and Kuroo caught the shaking of your shoulders as you tried to suppress them.

“What’s so funny, princess?” he asked, spinning a volleyball on the tip of his finger. The glint in your eye when you looked up at him made him suspicious, and he suddenly realized that you were remembering something he had done.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you quipped back and watched the abject horror cross his face as he realized what you had remembered. Of course you would think of that. 

The ball hit the floor with a hollow thud, bouncing towards the basket as he covered his face with his hands. “Could you not bring that up? That was so embarrassing, ugh.”

This time, you made no effort to hide your laughter. He would never know just how gorgeous he had been, covered in sweat and grinning so wide you thought his face might split, fists in the air as he yelled in victory. It always made your heart pick up speed, whenever he looked like that. That was why you cheered your heart out when they played-- so you could see that happiness shine every time.

“Sorry, but it’s your fault,” you said, tossing the ball towards the basket. It hit the rim and teetered on the edge before ultimately falling in. “It was cute, by the way. I keep hoping you’ll do it again.”

He already knew that. The way your face would light up when he greeted you like that, the small smile turning your lips upwards. He could shout it across the gym and you knew it was aimed at you. You would instantly turn around and shout it back at him, falling into laughter afterwards. He smirked as he realized how well trained you were.

“That’s fair. It’s cute how you always respond whenever I say it, you know?” he said, and watched your face burst into a shade of red he had only ever only seen on tomatoes.

“I-- do I?” you stuttered, looking down at your feet. You hadn’t even realized it, but it seemed like second nature to shout back at him across the gym. It felt like your own personal thing, even if it started as Bokuto’s. “Well, I’ll just have to stop then, I guess.”

“We’ll see about that.” Kuroo smirked down at you, resting his hand on his hip. “You should go home before it gets too late now.”

Finally in safe territory again, you looked back up at him, towering over you and smirking. What a smug little shit, you thought to yourself. “Nah, I’ll hang around and help. Wouldn’t want you to overwork yourself.” You waved him off, continuing to punt the balls carefully towards the basket while he picked them up and, with near perfect accuracy, bounced them off his arms and into the basket. “Showoff.”

“Well, I gotta impress you somehow,” he said, flashing you yet another grin which only widened when you flushed pink and looked away-- your signature move. It was adorable to begin with, but you always made it better by quipping back, acting as though you didn’t enjoy it.

“Keep trying, hotshot,” you muttered under your breath, picking up one of the balls and shooting it like a basketball. It sailed over, bounced off the wall and the edge of the basket and hit the floor.

You groaned, smacking your forehead. 

He laughed, doubling over at the sour look that graced your face as you glared at the ball, which came to a stop at your feet once again. How did that even happen? 

“Shut up,” you whined, throwing the ball at his head. Grinning, he caught it before it got close and began to spin it on his finger as he had before. “Kuroo.”

Tossing it over his head, he hit the basket dead on and smirked at your groan. “Yes, _____?”

“You are so infuriating,” you said as you packed the balls up properly, but there was no bite to your words. If anything, you actually were impressed, as you always were with Kuroo’s skill. But that didn’t mean you were going to tell him that.

But he could hear the amusement in your voice anyway. Following your lead, the basket filled itself up quickly, mostly because it devolved into a competition to see who could get the most in.

“Ha, admit it, _____. I won,” Kuroo said as the two of you pushed the basket towards the storage room. All of a sudden he stumbled and caught on it when it stopped short, winding him. When he looked up, your shoulders were shaking but he was suddenly pulled forward as you started walking again.

“You sure did, Rooster-head. Sure showed me,” you managed to choke out around your laughter, 

“No one likes a sore loser,” he said, but refrained from pushing the basket back at you, knowing it would make you trip. Besides, he wasn’t even that mad as he listened to your laughter fill the empty court.

“‘M not a sore loser. You’re just a brat,” you said as you put the basket in its proper place. You turned around to grab the brooms and almost smacked right into Kuroo. Before you could say anything about how close he was-- or acknowledge how hot your face felt-- the room was filled with a deafening thud.

The both of you jumped and whipped around, nearly crashing into each other again to face the door, which had slammed shut.

“Jesus, that scared the crap out of me,” you said, placing your hand over your racing heart. The noise the door made had sounded like thunder inside, nearly sending you into a panic.

Kuroo’s laughter was shaky but reassuring. “Same. Wonder what happened.”

You made your way to the door, Kuroo right behind you, and leaned down to examine the broken door stop. “Huh, the rubber is gone. That’s weird.”

“I think we have a bigger problem, _____.” Kuroo sounded grave and your head snapped up to look at him. His hand was resting on the door handle as he stared at it in bewilderment. “Who locked this?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Locked, _____. It’s--” He twisted his wrist, but the handle stopped with a loud clank. “I don’t know.”

“We’ll have to call someone to come unlock it,” you said, looking around at the windowless room.

Kuroo sighed, patting his pockets. “Uh, do you have your phone?”

A surge of panic went through you. No way. 

You patted frantically at your pockets, hoping, praying-- 

“Oh thank god,” you said, pulling it out of your jacket with trembling hands. You couldn’t imagine being stuck in here until one of your roommates realized you were missing. Hopefully.

You dialed the coach’s number and the dial tone sang in your ear for five, ten, fifteen seconds, until the voicemail picked up. A call to another team member yielded the same result. You went through four numbers until one picked up, sounding sleepy and annoyed.

“Kenma, I’m so sorry to bother you. We, um, we...well,” you faltered, unsure how to explain your situation.

You were saved the trouble however when the phone was snatched out of your hand, Kuroo sounding half amused and half annoyed. “The door to the equipment room is locked--”

He paused, his brows furrowing. “Gee, Kenma, I hadn’t thought of that. The problem is we’re inside it.” Another pause. “Yeah. Locked. Inside it. Can you--?”

He sighed and you quirked your eyebrow at him, receiving an eye roll and a grimace in response. Kenma could be so grouchy when woken up.

“We’ve tried, Ko. He didn’t answer. No, everyone’s left but us. Thanks, and I’m sorry. We have no idea how it happened, by the way. It was already locked. Yeah, i guess I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

“Ask who what?” you asked when he had hung up, 

He handed the phone back to you and leaned up against the door. “The other manager. Kenma mentioned she might’ve locked the door before she...well, whatever. He said he’ll be here in about an hour.”

You groaned, pressing your back to the door next to him. “Well, what do we do in the meantime?”

“I can think of a few things,” he answered, holding his hand out. 

You stared down at it, blinking in confusion. “I’m gonna need a little more to go on, romeo.”

He laughed, whether at your confusion or your reaction, you weren’t sure.

“Your phone. We’ve got an hour to waste. Let’s just watch youtube videos,” he said, and took it as it was offered and slid down to the floor.

You followed suit, sitting beside him close enough that the smell of laundry detergent and the remnants of whatever cologne he put on earlier that day overwhelmed you. It was mixed with sweat which, weirdly enough, somehow just enhanced the rest, and you flushed red as you realized what a weird turn your thoughts had taken. Blinking, you tried to focus on whatever was playing on the screen.

It was only a few minutes into some cat video compilation Kuroo insisted you watch when a message popped up on screen.

‘10% power remaining’

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Kuroo groaned, tapping the button to make the message go away. “Do you not know how to charge your phone?”

Snatching it out of his hands, you stuffed it in your pocket with a huff. “Well, if I had known I’d be locked in a closet for the next hour, I would have made sure to charge it. As it is…”

Silence followed for a few minutes, each of you trying to think of something, anything to say. Short of a nap, there was nothing else to do.

“So…” you said, tapping your fingers across your knee, “are you excited for the upcoming game? It’s the quarter-final, after all. It’ll be against Bokuto’s team, so it’ll be a good game.”

“Yeah. He’s been texting me non-stop about it, actually. It’s driving me insane. I’m gonna make him eat his phone when I see him,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. His battery didn’t even last all day with how often Bokuto and Hinata texted him. He’d had to flat out turn off notifications from them to save both his battery and his sanity.

Your laughter broke through his sullen thoughts and he realized how pretty it was. Not that it was a surprise, he had already known you were gorgeous. Maybe it was the lack of anything else to notice or maybe it was just because you were so close, but whatever the case was, he was noticing things about you now that he’d always taken for granted before.

The way your eyes lit up and the lilt of your voice whenever you talked about something you enjoyed, the hair that fell in front of your eyes when you looked down shyly because you had caught him staring, the shape of your lips when you said his name, the shine on them when you licked them, just the tip of your tongue peeking out. He wanted to kiss you so bad.

Blinking rapidly, he tore his gaze away from your lips, shaking his head like he had water in his ears. 

But it was too late, you’d already caught him staring, laser focused on something that was definitely not your eyes. And he had been leaning in, slowly but surely, and you were certain he had taken in not a single word you’d said.

Following after him, leaning into his space just a little, you tugged on his shirt sleeve. “What is it, Kuroo? Something on my face?”

He huffed out a laugh and turned to look at you, startled by your proximity. You were much closer than he expected and his brain shot off one warning before it shut down, your bright eyes practically begging for him to lean down and kiss you.

One rough, warm hand came up to cup your cheek and he leaned in further, his nose brushing past yours and though you didn’t pull away, still he asked, “Do you mind if I--?”

You cut him off with your lips, soft and still wet as his hand slid up to cup the back of your head, tangling in your hair, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He couldn’t pinpoint what you tasted like, coffee or sweets or vanilla, but he already wanted more. Wrapping his fingers around your arms, he hauled you up and into his lap, right over the newly formed tent in his shorts. He groaned low in the back of his throat when you wiggled around, grinding down on him as you settled yourself, and the smirk he could feel against his lips made him wonder if it was accidental.

“Tease,” he whispered, moving across your cheek and down your neck, leaving a trail of nips and kisses, and your fingers threaded in his hair, catching in the tangles of his bedhead and tugging in response when he found a particularly sensitive spot. His hands slid up just underneath your shirt, gripping your hips to help you move. “You sure you wanna do this? Kenma could show up at any moment.”

Your eyes were closed, head tipped back, little noises escaping your lips as your panties grew wet. Your question came out breathless. “Do you want to stop?”

His fingers tightened and he pulled you closer, slamming his lips against yours and swallowing whatever noise you made in response. You could feel your shirt rising up, his hands rough as he squeezed and kneaded your sides until you had to relinquish your hold on his hair to lift your arms up. 

As much as he just wanted to throw your shirt, he knew that Kenma may interrupt and he didn’t want to be caught completely off guard, so he left it on, pushing it up around your neck so you could pull it down if you needed. After a moment of fumbling-- because he simply refused to pull his tongue from your mouth for even a moment-- your bra was pulled off and set aside. 

He could feel you jump and arch into him when he tweaked one nipple, already hard and begging to be pulled. Palming one breast, he rolled your nipple between his fingers, and you jerked your hips in response. He suddenly wanted your pants gone more than he wanted to taste you.

“Fuck,” he moaned when he pulled away, momentarily forgetting his plans when he caught sight of your tits. They bounced with every breath and he wanted so badly to wrap his lips around your hard nipples and suck, your fingers pulling on his hair as you whined his name. But not before he felt your slick cunt gliding across his cock as he did. “Pants off, princess.”

You had to stand on wobbly legs to get them off, and he watched you fumble in a rush to shed them, dropping them and your panties on top of your bra while he struggled between watching you undress and pulling his own shorts off.

You paused, drinking in the sight of him relaxed and smug against the door, his rock hard cock standing up and waiting for you to sit on it. And you were going to, to hell with getting caught.

“Clock’s ticking, princess. Hop on it,” he said, smirking as you turned pink.

You crawled back into his lap, his hands starting at your knees and squeezing their way up your thighs until his thumb grazed your clit, gathering up the slickness already there. You squirmed and rolled your hips, spreading your legs as far as you comfortably could so he could work one finger into your slick hole, his thumb swirling over your clit. 

His eyes were locked on your tits, swaying and bouncing as you circled your hips. One finger wasn’t enough for either of you, and you keened as he fit a second one in, scissoring your tight pussy open enough to fit something much bigger. You were so tight and his cock drooled at the thought of you squeezing down around him. The soft noises you were making, the fluttering of your walls around his fingers, and the movement of your tits was too much for him and he pulled his fingers from your heat.

Cupping and kneading your ass, he used his grip to pull you closer. His head thumped back as you settled over his length, pussy leaking along his shaft as you slid over it. He could die like this, he decided, your wet slit grinding along him, cum mixing with his.

Only the feel of his tip sliding inside, your cunt sucking him further until your hips met his. Your breathing had deepened, eyes rolling along with your hips and he had to grab them to make you stop, unable to concentrate over all of the pleasure.

He thought back to all the time he had imagined having you like this, stretched around his dick and so, so wet for him. You were tighter than he could’ve imagined and he wanted to savor the feeling before he fucked you open and made you cum so hard you blacked out. 

“Kuroo, please,” you pleaded, trying to roll your hips against his punishing grip. You couldn’t help it, he was so hard, throbbing inside you and you wanted more. You clenched down on him when his thumb grazed your clit, marveling at the spike of pleasure and the way his cock jumped inside you when you did. “We don’t have time for this.”

You practically melted when he bucked his hips up into you, jerking your hips sharply in his hands in response and leaning back to brace yourself on his knees. 

The temptation was too much.

“Tetsu, fuck,” you moaned when his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking so hard your toes curled. His fingers occupied your other one, rolling and tweaking and pulling, your hips rocking in time with the flow of pleasure. The coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickled your clit and your thighs twitched, all of it too much. 

There was an insistent tugging on his hair, not trying to pull him away but push him closer and he switched to your neglected nipple and groaning around it, palming your now freed one. “You’re so good, princess. So pretty, taking daddy’s cock like this. You feel so fucking good.”

He pulled your nipple with his teeth, smirking at the way your whole body jumped when he called himself daddy. That was something he was going to remember.

The small room was now filled with the sounds of your wet pussy bouncing on his cock in earnest. Kuroo pulled back, leaning against the door and smirked, mesmerized by the bounce of your tits as you rode him, head tossed back and lips parted. He briefly imagined them wrapped around his cock as he stuffed himself down your throat and stowed that away for later activities. 

His thumb found your clit again, twiddling it as he focused on the way you clamped down around him, stuttering in your rhythm.

“Tetsu, don’t stop please,” you begged when his hips picked it back up, knocking the breath out of you. Your nails dug into his thighs, only able to hold on as your brain blanked, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine and out to your fingers, down to your toes. The coil snapped and in the back of your whited out mind you could hear Kuroo groan, feel his teeth in your collarbone and his nails dig into your ass.

“Where do you want it, princess?” he hissed out, continuing to thrust into you even when you tugged on his hair hard enough to make his eyes water.

“Inside, Tetsu,” you cried out, unsure if you wanted him to pound you harder or stop. All you knew was that you were on the pill and you wanted him to fill you up with his cum, and you spasmed around him again at the thought. “Cum inside me, daddy.”

His hips stuttered and he groaned, a shaky noise, before they stilled, stuffed as deep as he could be and he came. Swearing against your shoulder, his hips jerked, his cock twitching with every spurt inside you until he was dry.

“Holy shit, babygirl,” he panted, his forehead resting against your neck. He could feel his sweat mingling with yours, your shoulders rising and falling fast as you fought to regain your breath. 

You laughed, still breathless as you said, “That’s one way to fill an hour.”

Smirking against your skin, he said, “That’s not the only thing that got filled,” and snickered at your groan. The sound of your smack against his skin was slick, and it stung far more than it should have, but it was worth it. The red mark he knew he was going to have as you burst into giggles would be too.

“You’re so dumb, Kuroo.”

“Tetsu,” he corrected. “Or daddy, though I’m not sure everyone is going to appreciate that the way I do.”

“Oh my god, Kuroo, stop talking,” you groaned, covering his mouth with your hands, your face scarlet. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“It’s okay, princess. You’ll get used to it soon enough,” he said, muffled against your hands. That thought made you loosen your hold on his chin, looking down at his chest shyly, and he laughed. “If you want, that is.”

You snapped up to look at him again, eyes bright with hopeful happiness. “I’d really like that, Tetsu. I’ve--”

There was the sound of a door clanging outside of the room, and the color drained from your face.

“Shit, Kenma,” Kuroo said.

“Kenma is here,” you blurted at the same time and scrambled out of his lap.

Suddenly thankful for Kuroo’s carefulness, you threw your clothes on in a rush and pulled your shirt down, forgetting about the marks all over your neck and the state of Kuroo’s hair. Just as you slid your shoes on, the door opened, and you sighed in relief at the fresh air that flowed into the room. You hadn’t even realized it had gotten so hot, and then flushed when you realized it might not have been just a lack of airflow.

You missed it, but Kuroo smirked at Kenma when he looked up at his hair, quirking a brow followed by a pointed glance to your neck. Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows, his smirk turning into a grin when you took his hand and laced your fingers with his.

“I am exhausted. I know we’re supposed to sweep but why don’t we come in early and finish up,” you said, tugging on his hand. “Also, thank you so much for coming to rescue us, Kenma. I really appreciate it. The door stop broke and--”

Kenma raised his hand to stop you, still glancing up at Kuroo’s more-bedraggled-than-usual hair. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you minded too much.”

You blanched and Kuroo snorted before bursting into laughter, clenching his stomach at the shade of red your face had turned. He received a sharp smack on his shoulder for it, but it didn’t phase him a bit as he gave a thumbs up to Kenma, who just shook his head, wearing the tiniest smirk possible.

“I’m going home,” you huffed, stomping towards the door. It was embarrassing enough to be caught but then Kuroo just had to go and be an ass. 

The sound of footsteps caught up to you, a hand wrapping around yours and then Kuroo stood in front of you, carefully walking backwards. He was still wearing that smug grin, staring down at you with amusement. “I’m glad he noticed. I want everyone to know who you belong to now.”

Ugh, why did he have to be so fucking smooth?

“Shut up, Rooster-head,” you muttered, but didn’t let go of his hand, and he fell into step beside you. “You can walk me home to make up for it.”

He smirked, and put on a thoughtful look. “Maybe I can do more than walk you home. Your bed is big enough for two, right?”

“Don’t push your luck, romeo. I have a roommate.”

“I’ll make sure not to make you scream then.”

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⇥  masterlist

[lovely-ateez]

Silver Nights With You~

ꕥPosted: 12/18/20

ꕥGenre: College!au, Christmas Imagine, Fluff, Angst & Smut (You know it’s gonna end happy, I’m a sap)

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Mingi

ꕥSummary: You get stuck in a cabin with Mingi and shit goes down( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

ꕥWord Count: ~4.9k (Holy shit I’ve never written this much before I am so sorry)

ꕥWarnings: Angst, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my dudes), Praise (m & f receiving),

ꕥA/N: This is the most angst I will ever write, I was genuinely on the brink of tears while writing this because I honestly can’t stand people being sad. Anyway this literally took me days to write and I really hope you all like it :)

ꕥTagging: @raysanshine​

“It’s fucking cold.” I took a sip of my hot cocoa, burying myself deeper in the mountain of blankets on my lap, glancing at the snow falling outside.

Wooyoung scoffed and spread his arms along the back of his couch, “It’s December, of course it’s gonna be cold.”

I turned back to him, “Okay, yeah, but I’m still gonna complain about it.”

“You complain about everything.”

“That is a gross over-exaggeration that portrays me in an unfair light and, frankly, you should be ashamed.”

My closest friend smiled, showing his slight dimples. His eyes drifted to my own, smile fading slightly. “What do I have to do for you to join us? Even for an hour or so?”

I sighed. Wooyoung had been bothering me about coming to our friend Yunho’s annual Christmas party for days now, but I simply wasn’t in the mood.

“I’d rather not go at all.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

A year ago at the same party, my boyfriend Mingi broke up with me. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but it still hurt. He was set to study abroad for the next year and it just made the most sense to him, he told me. So who was I to stand in the way of his dreams? We decided to cut contact shortly after, it being too painful for us to even have small talk. We hadn’t talked since.

I’d spent the following year in a limbo, trying my hardest to enjoy my newfound independence, but ultimately failing, my thoughts somehow finding their way back to Mingi. Everything reminded me of him.

Rainy days made me think of the way he loved to dance with me in the rain, spinning me and smiling wide, warm raindrops messing up our hair. Sunny days made me think of the times we’d both take off work to have picnics, making wishes on dandelions. Stormy days made me think of how we’d cuddle up to one another and watch a trash movie, making fun of the characters’ bad choices. He was a part of me. He always would be. I suppose two years of dating does that. I suppose they take a part of you with them, too.

I told myself I healed. I told myself I was over him. But deep, deep down I knew I wasn’t. Part of me never would be.

“He won’t be there this year, if that helps at all.”

I remained silent, refusing Wooyoung a response, looking down at the carpet.

“I get it. I know what you’re going through. It really wasn’t that long ago that Aisha broke up with me.”

My eyes darted up. Wooyoung hadn’t talked about their breakup with me yet. I refused to push him, knowing he was still in pain and that he’d tell me when he was ready.

“It was for the best but I can’t pretend like I’m gonna move on soon. We were dating for a year and a half for god’s sake.” He let out a bitter laugh and turned to me, “I know it’s tough, but would you do it for me? Please come.”

“Okay.”

-

The high shrill of a female voice rang out through my phone, leading me to pull the device away from my ear.

“I knew Wooyoung could get you to change your mind!”

“Arin I get that you’re excited, but I’m gonna go deaf if you keep yelling.”

“Ack I’m sorry! I’m just so excited to see you! It’s been, what? Five months since I saw you last?”

“Yeah something like that.”

“Well anyways, I know it’s probably tough for you but I really appreciate you going. I know everyone else will, too.”

I tried to push down the longing I felt for Mingi, remembering the previous year in far too much detail.

“Yeah it’ll be nice to see them.”

“Okay I hate to cut it short but my boss might actually fire me if he finds me on my phone again.”

“You’re literally dating him. There’s no way in hell he’d fire you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Shh not so loud!”

I rolled my eyes, knowing I was speaking no louder than usual.

“Alright. Take care then. I’ll see you at the party.”

“Yep! Love you, girly!”

“Love you, too. See ya.”

My phone beeped, signaling the end of the call.

I checked the calendar hanging on the wall of my bedroom. Three more days till the party and I was dreading it more and more.

A knock at the door startled me and I made my way over, opening the door to find Wooyoung standing before me with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t a guy just drop by to say hello to his best friend?”

“He can, but you only do when you’re up to something. What is it this time?”

“Nothing! Scout’s honor!” He lifted a hand to make the famous three-fingered salute. 

“You were never a boy scout, dumbass.”

Wooyoung brought a hand to his chest, mocking offense, “I’ll have you know that I simply brought flowers over as a thank you for agreeing to come with us.”

“Aww really? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, really. But nah I can’t stay, I just wanted to drop them off.”

“You’re sweet.”

A cocky smile formed on his face, “I know.”

He passed the flowers over to me, giving me a hug and saying his goodbyes. I watched him walk to his car, a little skip in his step, wondering how anyone could let him go.

-

I grabbed my warmest jacket and walked out to my car. Today was the day I’d been dreading for weeks. Today was the day I’d have to put on a brave face and pretend I was alright. I mentally hyped myself up as I slid into the driver’s seat.

You’ll be okay. You’re strong. You can do this.

Snow was already starting to fall and I made a mental note to be careful. After all, Yunho’s cabin was roughly an hour away.

As I drove, the snow began to fall much faster, leaving me no choice but to feel concerned. My car didn’t have four-wheel-drive and what if my car got stuck? I was only fifteen minutes away but in snow like this with such a low temperature, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk the rest of the way.

The sun had already begun to set and seeing the road becoming much harder. Only four more minutes with the current speed I was going. I could make it.

Of course, the universe wasn’t having it and my car broke down almost immediately after I had the thought.

“Fuck.”

I panicked for a brief moment, trying to start up my car with no success.

Wait. My phone.

Grabbing my phone at rapid speed, I found it out of battery.

“I literally just charged it what the hell?”

I tried my best to cope with the fact that I had no choice but to walk the rest of the way. Taking a deep breath, I opened my car door and braced for the cold wind.

Trudging through the snow storm, I felt my ears and hands begin to hurt from the cold. I could barely see where I was going, having to rely on remembering where the cabin was based on the times I had been there prior.

Eventually I spotted a cabin in the distance and kept going, feeling myself lose heat with every step.

Finally, I climbed up the stairs and reached the main doorway.

I knocked loudly against the large wooden door, silently pleading for someone to answer. After waiting a few seconds with no response I tried to turn the door knob, grateful to find it unlocked. 

I pushed the door open and entered, quickly closing it behind me. Warm air rushed over me and I never felt so thankful for indoor heating. The inside looked the same as it always did; the main door lead to the living room which had the same snow globes above the fireplace as always, the same Christmas decorations scattered throughout, and the Christmas tree in the same corner as usual.

I shivered and moved to find a blanket when I saw a tall figure enter the living room. I looked up, feeling my heart drop. Standing before me was the one man that I didn’t want to be here.

Mingi’s eyes widened and mouth opened, looking at me with surprise. It seemed both of us were frozen, unable to do anything other than look at one another.

His rich chestnut hair was longer than when I saw him last, it was parted in the center, reaching his eyes. He was wearing a fitted green sweater that complimented his honey skin and tight ripped jeans. I refused to allow myself to acknowledge how attractive he truly looked. I refused to tell myself how much I missed him and how I wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to say, hating how timid my voice sounded. It’s because of the cold, I thought.

He seemed to come out of his trance, “I could ask you the same.”

“I’m here for the Christmas party.”

Mingi gave me a confused look. “The party isn’t until the twenty third.”

Annoyed, I narrowed my eyes, “It is the twenty third.”

He raised a brow and took his phone from his pocket, turning it to me, ‘December 19th’ it read.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I huffed, moving to sit down on the couch while running my hands along my arms for some sort of warmth. Mingi noticed immediately and left the room only to bring back several thick blankets.

I removed my jacket and wrapped the blankets around me as tight as I could.

“My car broke down a while back and my phone is dead. Is there anyone here that could give me a ride?” I didn’t want to spend more time with him than I had to. It hurt too damn much.

Mingi gave an apologetic smile, “I’m the only one here, actually.”

I gave the man a confused look, “Why are you here?”

“My second semester ended so I’m no longer studying abroad. I came back to visit friends but didn’t have a place to stay so Yunho has let me stay here for a few days.” He was silent for a few seconds before adding, “I was gonna leave before the party I-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s fine.”

Silence.

“I would take you home if I could, but my car is being fixed right now so it isn’t here. We could call someone maybe if that-”

“Yeah that’s fine. Can I borrow your phone?”

He nodded and handed it over. I didn’t notice it when he showed me his phone before, but his lock screen was different. It shouldn’t have hurt to see that it changed from a selfie of us to a picture of him with friends I assume he made abroad. It shouldn’t have. It had been a year, I should be over him.

I opened his phone without needing a password and tried to hide a smile. He never had a password in all the time I’d known him.

Good to know some things never change.

I dialed Wooyoung’s number and pressed the call button.

“We are sorry, but at this time your service provider is out of range. Please-”

Great.

I handed back his phone, “You don’t have any signal.”

“That’s odd, we always have service here...Do you wanna charge your phone? Maybe you’ll have better luck?”

“Yeah.”

He left the room and I placed my head in my hands, trying to process seeing him for the first time in a year. He was devastatingly handsome and still as kind as always.

I really miss him, don’t I?

His voice started me, “Hand me your phone, I’ll plug it in for you.”

I passed my phone over, accidentally touching his warm hands and I felt a spark run through me which I did my best to ignore. With almost comical timing, just as Mingi reached a plug-in, the lights went out.

“Uhh...that’s not supposed to happen.”

I scoffed, “No kidding. Do we have a generator?”

“Honestly, I don’t think we do.” Mingi gave me a sad look, “It’s been snowing hard outside for hours so there’s no way we’ll be able to leave now. Even with a car.”

“Awesome. I love to hear that.”

“At the very least we’ve got food to last us a few days. We should be okay-”

“Do I look like I want to spend several days here?” I snapped.

He looked taken aback at my words and I felt a pang of regret in my chest.

“I’m not sure we have a choice.”

I hated to admit it, but he was right.

“Do you want any food?”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“Are you hungry? I could make you something if you’d like.”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind, anyway.”

Mingi shook his head, walking to the kitchen. I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until he mentioned it, so I didn’t care what he made for me.

Minutes later he placed a plate and cup on the coffee table in front of me.

My favorite sandwich and chips. He remembered.

It should have been considered kind, but it just broke my heart a bit further. It was a simple act, but it proved that he stored it in his memory.

He remembered.

“I hope it’s still your favorite. I got you your favorite lemonade, too.”

I nodded, trying to prevent tears from spilling.

“I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure what to do.”

“Lighting the fireplace would probably be a good start.”

He laughed, “Ah you’re totally right. I’ll be back with a lighter, call out to me if you need anything.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Stuffing my face with the sandwich, I hummed. I always loved his sandwiches. There was something special about them, knowing that he made them for me, and this one was no different.

Mingi once again returned, this time with a lighter and a blanket, lighting the fire and sitting down on the couch across from me, wrapping himself in the blanket.

I couldn’t help but wonder how I possibly ended up in the current situation. Maybe the universe was out to get me. Who knows?

I took another bite of my sandwich, hoping I’d be able to leave soon.

-

I briefly glanced over at Mingi to find him on his phone.

Lucky. I wish I had mine so I wouldn’t be so damn bored.

The crackle of the fireplace was the only noise for what seemed like an hour. Neither one of us spoke. Growing tired of not doing anything, I stood and walked towards the fireplace to admire the snow globes. I noticed that behind the globes rested a photo album. I debated whether or not I should open it for the span of a few seconds before my curiosity got the best of me.

Opening it up, I saw pictures of all of our friends from the previous years of Yunho’s Christmas party. I began to walk back to the couch with my eyes on the book when I tripped, some of the pictures falling out. Mingi noticed and quickly rushed over to my side.

“Are you alright?” He was careful not to touch me, I noticed, but he was still right by my side.

“I’m fine, just help me pick these up.” I motioned towards the pictures scattered across the floor.

“Of course.”

We resumed our silence, picking the photos up and placing them back in the book. Noticing Mingi had stopped helping me I looked at him, prepared to make a quick jab at him for not helping, when I saw why he stopped.

In his hands he was holding a picture of the two of us kissing, dated two years prior.

I let out an empty chuckle, devoid of all humor, “I don’t know why that’s still there. Here,” I reached out to take the photo, “I’ll throw it away-”

“Don’t.” His response was immediate, taking me by surprise. He shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat, “I’d like to keep it.”

My heart felt like it stopped for a moment, hoping he missed us as much as I did.

“Why?” I asked.

Mingi smiled, still looking at the frozen image of the two of us. “Do you remember this day?”

“Of course I do.” My eyes began to water without me realizing, “That day was the first time you told me you loved me.”

His eyes found mine, sadness within them, “Yeah. Yeah it was.” His voice became horse as if he was fighting back tears.

“I didn’t want to let you go.”

“Then why did you?”

His eyes drifted down. “I was traveling halfway across the world for a year. I guess part of me thought you would meet someone else. I wanted to save myself the heartbreak in case you did.”

“I would’ve gladly stayed with you if you had asked. I have no desire to meet anyone else. Ever. You are the only one for me.” I froze, the realization of my words hitting me.

Mingi looked at me, “When I was abroad, I missed you every second of every day and I have missed you every second of every day since.” His hands cupped my face as if I was made of glass and a single tear fell down his cheek, causing my own tears to spill.

I was no longer able to speak, and so I did the only thing I could think of: I kissed him.

I kissed him with all the hurt that I felt after he left me. I kissed him with the deep love that I still felt for him. I kissed him with the fear that I’d lose him once again.

Our kisses soon grew heated, the photo album quickly forgotten, and I found my arms wrapped around his neck, hands running through his soft hair while his found their way to the bottom of my sweater, toying with it.

“Do you want this?” He growled, voice much deeper and raspier than before.

“Yes.”

With that, he pulled my sweater over my head, eyes scanning the red, lacy bra I was wearing.

His favorite.

Mingi chuckled, “This is still my favorite bra of yours.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got some new ones that are pretty hot.”

He let out a groan and began to leave kisses down my neck, setting my skin on fire.

I stopped him, needed to know one thing before we continued, “Did you...have you...since we last...?”

He smiled, “How could I? I’ve only ever been yours. Have you?”

I gave a slight smile, “No. No, I haven’t.”

I kissed him again and lifted his sweater, tossing it across the room. He had slightly defined abs when I was with him before, but they were far more prominent now. His arms were much more defined and it took all of my concentration to keep from drooling.

“Like what you see, doll?”

My voice was a borderline squeak, “Yes.”

“You still into praise, sweetheart?

I nodded, pulling on his jeans. Only slightly embarrassed with how eager I was.

“Not yet, baby.” Mingi easily lifted me to the couch and helped me remove my jeans. He grabbed my hips and placed me on his thigh, tightening his muscles as he dragged my clothed core across his own jeans. In mere seconds I became a quivering mess. I realized how truly long it had been since I’d been with anyone like this, and I had to admit I was needy.

“What a good girl you’re being for me. Aren’t you? You’re doing wonderfully, my love.”

I whimpered and pulled myself closer to him.

“Are you close, baby?”

I nodded, maybe too quickly, and felt my orgasm wash over me. I panted, already out of breath.

“Good girl.”

Bringing my lips to his I reached for his pants again and this time he helped me remove them. As I grinded down against him, he let out a deep growl.

“Let’s rid you of these, hmm?”

He eagerly removed my panties and bra and stared at me for a minute.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

I blushed fiercely. “You’re so incredibly handsome. Somehow even more so than when I saw you last.”

Mingi looked at me with a shy smile then resumed his actions. He removed his underwear and ran his length across my slit, teasing me slightly.

“Mingi, I need you.” I begged.

His eyes darkened and he entered me without hesitation. My back arched as he reached a steady pace and littered my neck with kisses, most likely leaving hickies, marking me as his.

I pulled his hair, bringing him closer to me. Mingi was always fairly vocal, but he could never get enough of me pulling his hair, always moaning in response.

He reached down and toyed with my clit, causing sparks to fly through me.

“Fuck—babe don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t—shit—planning on it, doll.”

Both of us quickly reached our high, cumming at the same time. I pressed a hand against his chest as I caught my breath.

“You’re still really, really good at that.”

Mingi laughed, “You are too, sweetheart. Oh wait-”

He got up and returned with a warm towel, cleaning me up and looking at me fondly.

“You’re cute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingi smiled, placing the towel aside,“Now, how about we get under some blankets? We’ll feel cold soon enough.”

I nodded and began to put my undergarments on, reaching for my sweater.

“I think not.” He said, now with his pants on, handing me his own sweater which I gladly took.

“You look hella good in my clothes, miss.”

I giggled at his choice of words, feeling happiness bubble in my chest for the first time in a long time.

“You look hella good without a shirt, mister.”

Mingi raised a brow and ticked my sides, making me squeal.

“I’ll fight you!” I yelled.

He stopped and rubbed his nose against mine, “Sorry I can’t help it. Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world.”

“Shut up.” I laughed, feeling shy.

He placed arm around me, nuzzling my neck.

I turned to him, worry in my eyes, “I’m really sorry for lashing out at you earlier. That’s not like me.”

He smiled, “I know it’s not. But don’t worry about it, I understand. It’s a defense mechanism I guess.”

I cuddled up to him then realized I needed to use the restroom. I tried to get up when he pulled me closer to him.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Silly, I just have to use the restroom. I don’t want a UTI.”

He laughed aloud, “Fine but you better come right back.”

“I will,” I told him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before I walked away.

I soon looked in the mirror of the bathroom, observing my flushed cheeks and the wide smile I couldn’t seem to wipe off my face.

This girl looks happy. I think I can get used to seeing her in the mirror.

I returned and was instantly pulled back into his arms.

“I love you.”

I felt a tear run down my face, feeling beyond happy, “I love you, too. So much.”

I wasn’t sure when, but I felt my eyes began to droop, slowly falling asleep in the arms of the man I loved.

-

The day following, Mingi’s phone recieved signal and I was able to call Wooyoung. Apparently the power lines had fallen, everyone in the immediate area losing power. The nearest roads had been somehow cleared overnight and he’d be able to come pick me up.

“Wooyoung’s on his way over, apparently everyone lost power.”

“Hmm. well I, for one, am glad we did,” Mingi pulled me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, me too.”

A silence fell between us, but it was comfortable this time.

Mingi spoke up, his voice becoming playful, “I’m taking you on a date soon. There’s nothing you can do about, I’m afraid you cannot refuse.”

“As if I would refuse.”

“Mmm.” I didn’t think he could, but he pulled me even closer to him.

“Mingi you’re literally gonna break my bones.”

He let go of me, eyes wide, “Did I hurt you? Gosh I’m so sorry I can—”

“You didn’t hurt me you goof.”

“Oh good. You scared me.”

The honk of a car horn scared me and I jumped, Mingi hiding a smile.

“Call me if you need anything, okay? You’ve got my number.”

“Of course.” Giving him one last kiss before I bid him goodbye and left the cabin, hopping in Wooyoung’s car.

“Holy shit are you okay? Was anyone even home? My god I feel so bad—”

“Mingi was there.”

Wooyoung’s face froze, quickly turning into a scowl, “I swear if he did anything to you—”

“No, don’t worry about it. We’ve made up,” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at me before he spoke again, “You two totally fucked, didn’t you?”

“Wooyoung!” I slapped his arm in shock.

“You didn’t deny it!”

“Oh shut up. Just take me home.”

He playfully rolled his eyes and put the car in drive.

“Just so you know, I’m happy for you. I get why he did it but I am still a little pissed. I swear to fucking god if he breaks your heart again I will actually break his knee caps.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it. I wouldn’t worry to much about it, though.”

“If you insist, okay.”

“I do.”

-

December twenty third. The day that I had been dreading once, now one that I had been very much looking forward to. I checked my makeup and outfit once more before texting Mingi.

Me: I’m ready whenever you are!

Mingi Mango: I’m outside :)

Me: Shit, already?

Mingi Mango: Language

I scoffed, grabbing my purse and running outside to meet him.

“Babyyyyyy!” Mingi yelled as he saw me.

“Mangoooo!” I yelled back, jumping into his arms.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Mingi it’s been two days.”

“But it feels like forever! You look absolutely stunning, by the way.”

“You cheese. You look really good yourself.”

“You know it,” Mingi winked and opened his passenger car door for me, “My lady.”

I was unable to keep from smiling, giving him a little kiss on the cheek and climbing into the car. The entire car ride was filled with lighthearted conversation, not a single silent moment between us.

“We’re here, doll.”

“Yes I see the cabin in front of us.” I teased him.

“Well just in case you didn’t I thought I’d let you know.” He laughed, eyes disappearing into crescents, and I felt my heart swell.

We held hands as we walked into the cabin, finding several pairs of eyes turning to us, then to our intertwined hands. I was pleased to find smiles on my friend’s faces, feeling happy that they were happy for us. Arin came running towards me at a seemingly inhuman speed and wrapped her arms around me.

“Ahhh how are you, girly? I’ve missed you so much! And you look gorgeous! I love that sweater on you! And your makeup! Wow! How’d you do that? Have you been eating well?”

“One question at a time, Arin.” I smiled.

“Sorry! I’m just so happy!”

"Me too!” I looked around, “Do you know where Wooyoung is?”

“Oh he’s out back with San. They’re having a competition to see who can build the better snowman.”

I shook my head with a smile.

At that moment she took a step back, looking at our hands. I had told her about Mingi and I dating again over the phone and she seemed happy for me, but I had to admit I was nervous to see her reaction in person.

“You,” She pointed a finger at Mingi, “If you hurt even a hair on her head I will actually fight you.”

Mingi’s eyed widened, assuring her that he would never hurt me.

She clapped her hands, “Well, good. Now that that’s over, do you all want a drink?” Arin cocked her head, the change in mannerisms throwing me a little.

“Yeah that’s fine.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back! Catch up with everyone you two!”

As if he was a ghost, Yunho appeared next to Mingi, scaring us both.

“Christ, Yunho. Give a man a warning first.”

“Sorry,” He chucked, “How are you both?”

“We’re doing well, thanks.”

“We’re happy.” Mingi turned to me and looked at me with heart eyes, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“You all are cute. Speaking of, you haven’t met Mia, have you?”

Mingi and I exchanged confused looks.

“No, I don’t believe so. Who’s that?”

“She’s my new girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a little over a month but if I’m being honest, I’m already head over heels for this girl.” Yunho turned, calling out to a girl surrounded by people, “Mia, can you come here?”

The short brunette walked over, a smile plastered on her face as she made eye contact with Yunho.

“I’d like you to meet my friends from high school.” He introduced us and she nodded, fully invested in the conversation.

“I’ve heard a lot about you both! I’m so excited to get to know you all better!”

I smiled at her enthusiasm, “Aww you, too!”

Arin walked over and handed Mingi and I our drinks, skipping off to meet another friend.

Yunho and Mia wondered off soon after, greeting more people coming in.

“Hey I’ve got something I wanna show you.” Mingi whispered in my ear.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Come with me.”

Before I knew it, Mingi was pulling me into a bathroom and locking the door.

“I know what you’re doing, Mango.”

“And what’s that?” He asked as he leaned down to reach my neck, kissing me gently, arms resting on my hips.

“We’re at a party.” I said, whining at him but doing nothing to stop him.

“I saw that couch when we walked in, you know? I’m never going to be able to look at it the same.”

“Me either.”

My head eventually won the fight I was having with myself, and I promised that if he could wait till he dropped me off I’d be all his. It seemed to appease him as he gave me one last kiss and led us out of the bathroom. Somehow, no one noticed and I was grateful, sure that my flustered expression would certainly give us away.

“Hey, look at this.”

My eyes moved in the direction Mingi was pointing, seeing a mistletoe directly above us.

“Oh you definitely planned that.”

“And if I did?”

“I’d kiss you all the same.”

Mingi bent down to kiss me, a hand on my face, another around my waist. As I wrapped my own hands around his neck, deepening the kiss, I couldn’t help but think that this was what true happiness felt like.

Thank you, Mingi. Thank you for giving me the greatest gift of your love. Merry Christmas, my love.

[helaintoloki]

Of Monsters and Men

(collab piece with @obitwo !)

pairing: Dan Torrance x reader

warnings: language, nsfw content, smut, possessed Dan, some fluff sprinkled in throughout, 4k word count

notes: @obitwo and I are so excited to finally be able to share this with you all! This is my first time collaborating with another writer and it’s been such an honor to work with someone as talented as Claire! I wrote out the story/plot elements and Claire wrote out the smut sequence and together we made a piece we’re both very proud of. We sincerely hope you guys enjoy it!

summary: after narrowly escaping the clutches of the True Knot and the Overlook, Dan now has the chance to live a normal life with you at his side. But the hotel isn’t through with you just yet, and it’s up to you to satiate the hungry spirits.

It’s been exactly one month since the Overlook burned to the ground, and though the absence of Rose and the True Knot has made the world a much quieter place it definitely hasn’t rid your husband of the trials and tribulations that come with the shining. The ghosts of Dan’s past did not abate their torment despite having their home destroyed, and the task of locking them away in a box grew increasingly difficult with each new visitor. He was struggling, losing sleep, constantly worried about your safety as well as Abra’s, and despite how much you tried you weren’t sure how to help him. What could you possibly do to chase his monsters away?

It’s a tranquil evening in Frazier, leaves falling from the trees in the cool breeze outside as you get started on dinner for the night. You hope his mother’s old homemade chicken casserole recipe will be enough to provide some sense of comfort for your troubled husband. The Grady sisters had made a surprise appearance the night before and Dan was still recovering from the mental toll their visit had taken upon him; he had called in sick from work and stayed home for the day to nurse the splitting headache that had come with locking them away.

Tender kisses grace the skin of your shoulder as Dan wraps his arms around your waist and brings you into his chest. He’s exhausted, but he craves the solace your presence brings him and is willing to suffer through the ache at his temples if it means he gets to have you near. Your smile is a sight for sore eyes, and he takes pride in the fact that you are his wife.

“Feeling any better?” You muse whilst Dan presses a kiss to your cheek.

“No, but I’m not feeling any worse either so I guess that’s a good thing,” he chuckles softly. “What are you making?”

“Oh, well I know how much you loved your mom’s casserole as a kid so I thought I’d try and make it for you. Just a little something to raise your spirits a bit.”

A soft smile graces his features at your thoughtfulness, arms winding even tighter around your waist as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

“How’d a guy like me ever manage to end up with someone as wonderful as you?” He hums against your skin, prompting a cluster of butterflies to form in your stomach.

“Oh, stop,” you giggle, lightly pushing him away. “You’re distracting me, I have to make dinner. Can you hand me the measuring cup? The glass one please.”

Dan’s head begins to throb as he goes to the cupboard, yet he thinks nothing of it as he retrieves the glassware. But then the room begins to spin and your voice sounds so far away as you start to talk about your day. There’s a rumbling from the darkest corners of his mind as the boxes begin to rattle, panic settling deep in his bones as both the measuring cup and Dan go crashing onto the floor.

“Dan!” You gasp, quickly falling to your knees beside him and resting your hands upon his taut shoulders. “Danny, are you alright?!”

A whine escapes him as he shuts his eyes and grips tightly at your thighs in an attempt to ground himself, hoping to fight the spirits off long enough so he can lock the boxes up tight and throw away the key forever before the spirits have the chance to escape. But they’re coming, and he’s too weak to stop them now.

“I can’t,” Dan pants heavily, a groan tumbling past his lips as he doubles over on the ground. He can feel the ghosts suffocating him, his breaths growing shallow with each box that unlatches.

“Dan, look at me. Danny,” you plead desperately. You don’t know how to help him, you don’t know how to make it better, you don’t know how fix it, and the helplessness you feel leaves you feeling sick with worry.

“You have to... You have to run.”

“Danny...”

“Run!” He bellows, startling you into getting up off the floor and back onto your feet. Your vision is blurry with tears as you slowly begin to back away from your husband whose shoulders are heaving with every strangled grunt that leaves his lips.

“Danny,” you weep softly from your spot in the kitchen doorway. He told you to run, but how can you leave him when he’s in so much pain?

Your quiet sniffles are the only sound in the kitchen when he finally stills. Dan is bent over on his hands and knees in a way that prevents you from seeing his face, and you take a single cautious step forward.

“Dan?” You call gently. “Honey, a-are you alright?”

Your husband raises his head slowly to meet your gaze, smirking at the horrified look that flashes across your features at the sight of him.

“Hi sweetheart,” he grins, and the sight of his milky white eye is enough to send you bolting towards the bedroom.

You can hear his thundering footsteps following close behind you, all kinds of threats and warnings accompanying them, but you urge yourself to run faster. This isn’t Dan, you have to remind yourself, this isn’t Danny.

“Come here, little pup!” He coos hoarsely with false tenderness, but his demeanor changes in an instant the moment you slam the bedroom door shut and lock it from behind you. One of his fists slams on the wood while the other hand violently twists and turns the doorknob. The frustrated growl that leaves him sends chills down your spine as you slowly back away towards the far corner of the room, eyes never once leaving the door.

“Open the door, little girl,” Dan says gruffly. “Open the door and I won’t hurt you. Let me in and I’ll forget the whole god damn thing.”

“I-I can’t,” you whimper, frantically scanning the room for your phone. As guilty as it makes you feel to do so, you know you have to call Abra. She’s the only one who knows how to bring Dan back, and you can’t afford to lose him to the Overlook. You’d almost lost him once, and you’d be damned if you’d let them win this time. Another bang on the door has you in hysterics- where’s the phone?!

“Y/n, darling, light of my life, open the fucking door,” he warns lowly. One more good strike to the wood will break it down, but Dan is willing to give you one more chance to behave yourself, to be the good girl he knows you are.

“Danny, please!” you sob, and with your denial of his request he slams his whole body against the door so that it breaks off its hinges and comes crashing to the floor.

“There you are,” he leers maliciously from the doorway, shoulders hunched and hungry gaze settled upon your trembling form in the corner. He staggers forward slow and calculated like a predator stalking his prey. The tears that fall down your face make you look all the more appetizing, and the fear that radiates off of you is almost enough to feed the hungry spirits festering inside of him.

“Stay away,” you warn fruitlessly, “get away.”

“Is that any way to treat your husband?”

“You’re not my husband,” you avow emphatically in an attempt to put on a brave face despite how terrified you are. “I know what you are, and I know that you’re not really my Danny. You’re just... You’re just a false face.”

The man that stands before you ponders your profession with amusement before striking in an instant. Your wrist is grabbed swiftly in a tight grip, allowing him to raise your left hand in front of your face.

“What a pretty diamond on your finger,” he mocks before raising his own left hand. The golden wedding band on his ring finger glints in the light, his deriding gaze ticking back and forth between the jewelry. “Are these not a symbol of your undying devotion to me? Does this not mean that you are mine to have?”

You have no counterargument to give because he’s right; you had vowed to be there for Dan through sickness and in health, and this was a time of sickness. You were his wife, you had taken on the Torrance family name and promised to surpass any challenges that followed the title, so you’d just have to overcome whatever obstacle came next.

“What are you going to do to me?” You murmur, gaze nervously following the hand that slowly creeps up your chest and wraps itself around your neck. You can’t help the shivers that prickle at your spine as his hot breath fans against your skin, tongue darting out to lick an agonizingly slow stripe along the column of your throat.

“You’ve been very, very bad,” he says gruffly, “and now you’re going to take your medicine.”

Dan watches you, ultimately sinister as he rushes you towards the wall by the hand on your throat, slamming your back into it. He hungrily mouths at your neck, hands planted beside your head while his wet lips leave marks across your skin. He's eager, voice husky, breathing fervently across your shoulder. Hips jut into yours as Dan presses his hardness against you, trying to satiate himself with the sheer intensity of his movements. He growls at the contact, nothing short of animalistic.

“Are you going to hurt me?” You’re still apprehensive and afraid of what this twisted version of your lover could do, but there’s no denying the heat that rises off your cheeks and emanates from between your legs.

“Hurt you? Poor, pretty little thing, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He’s still rocking his hips against yours, friction between his jeans and your clothes. “Do as I say and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

His dark and sensual stare does little to calm your nerves and you decide to give into him for your own sake. Hands lay upon your breasts, and Dan tilts his head back in satisfaction, groping and palming them.

“Touch me,” he croons and gasps when your hand reaches between his legs to palm his concealed length. He’s enjoying you, growing more and more primal with every passing moment. The sensation goads him and he forces his thigh between your own, harshly shoving it against your growing wetness. You pant as he further presses you into the wall, trying to rub yourself on his leg.

His thumb and forefinger catch your chin to tilt it upward, urging you to look at his blue eye and the ghostly white one.

“So desperate for me… and you were just trying to lock me out,” he mocks you, withdrawing his leg and letting your feet fully touch the floor again. In his trance, it’s what he wants; to feed off of the arousal, to release himself and be taken by his own desires. You want to fight it, but your involuntary whine betrays you.

Dan brings his face to yours, masculine features clouding your view.

“Do that again,” he snarls, hand returning to your throat and clamping down on it, earning himself another heavenly moan from your lips in return. He closes his eyes at the sound, leaning back and relishing in it, completely obsessed with having you at his mercy.

“Please, Dan,” you beg him for some type of relief to which he simpers cruelly. He needs to hear no more, bending down and wrapping his arms underneath you to toss you over his shoulder. Your arms dangle upside down, and you don’t bother to squirm. He walks purposefully towards the bed, hands gripping onto your ass before he lets you off, crashing on the mattress.

You huff at the drop, clearly appreciative of the manhandling. Dan is kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you towards him by your ankles and holding them firmly, his lips inches from your aching core.

All Dan is focused on is pleasure and power as he rips your clothes from your trembling body, careless of any tears he might have made. He sighs when he looks at you in your panties, a sight he usually compliments - but not now, he’s greedy, teeth grazing your hip to bite down on the fabric and pull it down your legs with the movement of his head. You feel yourself melting at the action, trying not to like this Dan too much - it’s not truly him, but the way he’s looking at you like he’s starving is entirely captivating, clouding you from your common sense.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he advances his mouth closer, then letting his gaze follow the curve of your thighs, spreading them neatly for his tongue and admiring them. He adorns them with harsh kisses, sucking to leave bruises on them, pleased with himself for marking you as his. His trail leads up to your wetness and he swipes a finger up your folds, gathering some of it and pressing it to his tongue. He likes the taste.

“Filthy girl.”

It’s then that his arms hook under your thighs to lock them over his shoulders. You’re unable to move, caught in him, and he knows that he’s going to torture you.

A slow lick up your clit sends you trembling at which Dan groans, vibrations coursing through your body. He’s deliberately tentative, providing unhurried laps at your clit, waiting for you to break. After several tormenting moments, Dan is kind enough to give you a full circle of his tongue, and you writhe under his clutch, legs begging for freedom and hips rising against his face. It’s enough for him.

“Sit. Still.” He’s ordering you now, and you know better than to be a brat and do it intentionally.

His stubble meets your soft skin in a rush, his tongue swiping madly at your clit and you’re back to trembling pathetically. He’s fulfilled with your response, his sexual prowess sending moans from your throat that fill the room with urgency. An arm releases one of your legs to let a finger prod at your entrance, under the tongue that flits across you. It dips in teasingly, merely deep as his first knuckle and you take the opportunity to squeeze his head with your free leg.

At your sudden defiance by not sitting still, he reaches up to run a palm across your naked breast which makes you falter. His hand stays there, massaging as he continues to eat you out with exhilarating competence.

“Dan…” You choke, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging it to release the rising tension of your body. He snaps at the pulling, evidently stimulated by it. Making no mistake, he consciously groans into you again, except it’s primal and electrifying, making you yelp.

“Good… Keep making those pretty noises or I won’t be so generous,” Dan nearly barks at you, mean, his voice hoarse and drunk on his urges. Finally letting his finger slide all the way in, he withdraws it at the same speed, pumping it and drowning in the sounds that you make for him.

The tension continues to rise, your body shaking violently. Dan knows what he’s doing; just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. You know he’s saving it.

“More,” you whisper boldly, weak from his delightful touch.

“Do you deserve more?” He moves his face away, but adds a finger to the first one, roughly thrusting them both in and out of you and biting his lip. He sneers, “I’ll decide what you get.”

You pause simply to keep shuddering, unable to speak with the sensation of his fingers hitting the right spot. He stops and leaves you a blubbering mess of moans and whimpers, leading Dan to decide on your next sentence for locking him out.

He rises, looming over you supported by his hands, hair falling handsomely. Your own hair is gathered from beneath you into a ponytail and yanked down to give him plenty of access to your neck, biting down softly into the juncture of it and your shoulder. Your legs instinctively wrap around him, trying to keep him touching you.

“So impatient.” His lips graze your ear and he nips at the lobe. “Get over my knee.” Dan disembarks from you, sitting tall and spreading his knees apart on the edge of the mattress, feet set firmly on the floor.

You mistakenly hesitate for a moment and find a rough hand pulling your hair again, and an expression on his face that warns you I won’t ask again.

Pitifully crawling over, you splay your body over his knees, your stomach against one of his thighs and your ass right where he can hurt it.

Dan briefly lounges with you on his lap, his weight leaned back onto his palms, admiring the beauty before him. His hand travels up the back of your thighs, crossing up to your waist, dipping under to feel up your chest. He smirks wickedly, raising his hand up into the air and sending it crashing down to give a sharp and loud slap to your ass.

A high moan leaves your throat and he repeats the action, faster than the first time, little pieces of hair slipping into his face from the power he’s exerting. You feel it deep within you, the painful but delicious sensations of his calloused hands roughing you up, slapping you hard as all hell.

“Don’t you go locking me out again, pup. You got that?”

“Mhmm!” You groan frantically, waiting to feel his red-hot palms strike you again. They don’t.

He instead reaches under to grab your windpipe, lazily turning you over and getting you to straddle him.

“Words.” He has no tolerance left.

“I got it.” You blurt out quickly as you can, not trusting yourself to carry a sentence any longer than that.

Dan guides your hips to grind you against his hard length, back and forth. Your head tilts with the movements, idly lolling. Another quiet noise and Dan can’t take it anymore. He’s finishes with his teasing of you; he needs to unleash.

He assumes his full, intrinsic and feral state, pushing you back onto the bed, and you rebound with force. He keeps you down, wrists pinned above your head and his lips are searching your entire body, biting, sucking, bruising - hungry for anything he can get. You don’t dare move, knowing he wants your full compliance.

His jeans are long gone, underwear too, forgotten somewhere on the floor. His skin feels smooth but hot against you, a gorgeous and soft feeling when his chest collides with yours. Strong arms are positioned on either side of your body, Dan lining himself up with your entrance. Your raising hips cause him to prod, whining as the head of his cock teases you.

“Does my dirty girl want my cock?” He gives a low groan to your ear and you’re losing yourself in him. The word “yes” is hardly loud enough, an inaudible whisper.

This time he doesn’t care for precision to your obedience. He doesn’t ask for a clearer answer, content with your submission to him.

He steadily presses himself into you the rest of the way, guttural moans seeping through his mouth that latches on to yours. Your thighs squeeze him closer and he stays a moment, fully immersed and gasping.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” The words almost can’t make it out of him and he leisurely pulls back, re-entering you with full, lusty force. You cry out his name and he basks in it, pumping himself faster, reaching so deep inside you that you can feel it reaching your stomach, your body quivering with the stimulation.

“Oh… Dan!” Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes with the sheer strength of him, and a thumb reaches to rub tight circles on your clit that still glistens with the wetness of his tongue. His mouth is agape, bottom lip curling onto his teeth from the pure effort he’s giving, and effort is about the only thing he’s giving. Otherwise, all he knows is to take.

Your jaw is swiftly and skillfully pried open, and Dan, possessed and sickeningly tempting, spits into your mouth, no regard left in him. It’s something he’s never done, especially not when he’s your proper Dan, and you like it. You swallow firmly and draw him in.

His head falls into your shoulder, biting it at the pleasure you’re giving him. You sigh, spent, and he bites again. He doesn’t flounder, maintaining steady and thrilling strokes that make your body stiffen and shake. Dan’s hankering grows and he plunges in a last time, reveling inside you before flipping you onto your elbows and knees and taking you immediately back onto his cock. His hands grace the curve of your hips to push and pull you over his length, and he yells out in his rapture.

His fingers trail up your back to wrap around the back of your neck, bringing your back flush to his chest, ruining you from behind. You sit atop his thighs as he stretches you out so good and not a single coherent thought passes through your mind. Thin sheets of sweat are the only thing between you.

His repeated hitting into the right spot has you wailing, your hands covering his own as he’s surely sending you over. Tingles sweep through your limbs and you come undone around him, clenching him harder and getting his cock all the more wet, trying to fall forward onto the bed and catch your breath. You’re given no such freedom, and he continues pounding into you, whispering dirty things into your ears as your orgasm is drawn out impossibly long.

“Nasty thing, you’re gonna make me cum.”

And so he does, warm inside you and it starts to leak out with his last excessive thrusts. He keeps you to his chest, panting, but his grip loosens ever so slightly.

A dull blissfulness clouds your senses and hazes your surroundings, eyes fluttering shut in an attempt to savor the warmth you’ve been encompassed in. The experience was new and terrifying, but it had satiated a craving deep within you that you hadn’t even been aware of in the first place. From behind you, Dan pulls out of you with a deep groan and allows his head to fall against your shoulder.

“Danny?” You call hesitantly, unsure as to which Dan you’re speaking to. It’s silent for what feels like a long time before he speaks again.

“Y/n?”

“Oh, honey,” you sigh in relief before shifting in bed to face him. He looks absolutely spent, but the white film over his eye is gone and with it the spirits of the Overlook.

“What happened?” Dan asks tiredly, eyes widening at the various marks that little your body. “D-Did I do that?”

“Technically, yes. But um, you had a little help,” you explain meekly. “They came back.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, the hands that had just choked and spanked you not too long ago now coming to rub soothing circles into your bruises. A content sigh leaves your lips at the feeling.

“Don’t apologize. I umm.. I was able to handle it.”

“Did... Did you like it?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” you nod with a sheepish smile. “You were terrifying, but you were also really, really good. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“I’m happy to hear that?” Dan says questioningly, prompting both of you to laugh. He smiles then, adoringly and full of love. “Oh, my brave, sweet girl.”

“I love you,” you sigh happily, taking his face in your hands and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “In sickness and in health.”

“In sickness and in health,” he repeats with a gentle smile, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you into another passionate kiss.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I hope I can send this in. It’s an idea of something you could write one day .. like a blurb or something. idek. Bleh.

BUT I DIGRESS -

Flip and you are at a cabin in the woods. Y’all have traveled a great length and your cabin is lakeside. You two have plenty of pent up ‘energy’ so you put on your swimsuits and head out to the water. Eventually y’all are a tangled mess of limbs and you can’t tell who’s who, by the sounds you’re making, a nun would blush.

🖤

A/N: @preshprinceofstarkiller I really hope you enjoy this one! I poured as much smut as I could with a shit load of fluff wrapped around it because I love a sappy Flip/Reader dynamic!

Warnings: Married banter, lots of cuddles and kisses, FLUFF out the asshole, public sex, outdoor sex, public nudity, hair pulling, dirty talk, creampies, just all kinds of SMUT 

The sweet smell of a morning cup of brew, pine trees, and the crisp September air filled your senses as you sat on the wooden lawn chair on the deck of your lakefront cabin. Wrapped up in a wool blanket, in your favorite sweater, admiring the sounds of the lake crashing up on the beachfront, and the nature rustling about in the morning sun. It was perfect. The best idea you and Flip had decided to make in several months. 

He, being so burnt out on work, as usual with his large caseloads, wanted to get away for a few days. The two packs of smokes a day indicating he had just had it up to his forehead with Ron, Trapp, and Bridges reaching down his throat for answers. Flip had always been a naturally grouchy person, it was just something you’d gotten used to. But when he would get to point of being angry with you over idiotic matters, like for instance, the dishes not being rinsed out properly, then you knew it was just about time to head out of town. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” his sleep ridden voice ground out as he approached with his cup of coffee in a sweatshirt, and sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination. 

“Good morning to you too honey,” you craned your neck as he lowered his warm face to your lips, pecking it with the slightest effort. 

“Did you sleep, okay mountain man?” you asked as he cozied up to you, wrapping his body around yours in the straining chair. 

“Honestly, I slept better last night than I have in months,” he chuckled out into the air as you stroked the bedhead he’d given himself. 

“I know. I heard you snoring all night,” you giggled lowering to kiss his crown, “sounded like there was a bear in our bed all night.” 

“Psh,” he smirked burying himself more into your clothed body, “it wasn’t as loud as you howling my fuckin’ name last night I bet.” 

“Excuse me?” you tried to pry his large head up to get him to say that phrase again to your face, ultimately failing in the process as he gripped your waist even tighter at the sensation of your straining. 

“I didn’t say shit, sweetheart,” he murmured back into the mess of sweatshirts and blankets, “only that I love you, so much!” 

“Uh-huh… That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” you returned to grab your cup, taking a sip as you chuckled over his comments. 

“I love you too sweetie. I’m so glad we’re up here,” moving his curls to expose his ear, playing with the soft lobe. 

“Same here. I fuckin’ needed this,” nuzzling his face into you more and more, “I need something else though.” 

“And what is that my poor baby?” you asked in a pandering way to mimic his childlike form in front of you. 

He muttered something incoherent into the blankets, “honey, I can’t hear you,” leaning down to wrap your soft lips on his ear. 

“I said, I want to go skinny dipping… with you,” he looked up hair in all sorts of places, his sleepy face blinking the light back into his adjusting pupils. 

You giggled at the sight of him all discombobulated, “oh babe… I would hope you’d only want to do something like that with just me!” 

Grabbing his rosied cheeks, bringing him into another series of kisses, starting from pecking to a little more romantic, “of course it would be you, honey, who the fuck else would do it?” 

He smirked into your lips, “I don’t know, maybe a mistress of yours or somethin’,” egging on his sarcasm, “your mom did tell me at our wedding mind you, that you were hard to pin down.” 

He lifted himself off of you, “no she fuckin’ didn’t,” he looked shocked at the admission you made. 

“She honestly did,” you sipped back at your coffee, “but she countered it with the notion that she had never seen you as happy as you were with me,” so you can’t be mad at her. 

“Well I kinda am now,” he huffed, “I can’t believe she’d say that on our wedding day… holy shit mom. I’m gonna give her a good talkin’ to when we get home.” 

“No, you aren’t, grouch,” you asserted, “she didn’t mean anything by it. Now let’s go skinny dipping before I die of old age,” you punched his arm, “plus I wanna see that ass in the sunlight.” 

He smirked at your comment, getting up with a groan and helping you from your seat. As you started to walk in front of him he slapped your ass with all the force he had built up in him, “Jesus fuck Phil!” 

You turned around, “now I’m gonna have a handprint there!” you rubbed the sore cheek, wincing as your hand rubbed the area. 

“That’s the point babe,” I wanted to look at my ass with my handprint on it while I fuck ya on the beachside.” 

You blushed at the notion, hurrying in the house to remove any piece of clothing the both of you had been wearing. After your nakedness was revealed, you grasped your tits in your arm, “race ya down there, detective,” bolting in the direction of the back door, revealing your natural form to the sun and all of nature’s creatures as you bounded down the hill towards the beach.  

Little did you know, Flip was gaining on you in bounds, coming up behind your bouncing ass and scooping you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

“Oh my god honey!” you screamed, holding onto his back for dear life, “you’re gonna break something!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled back, “you know you’re lighter than air to me honey!” 

You groaned as he lowered you onto the warm beachfront, the sound of waves brushing the pebbles like a song. You both took an inventory of the sight around you, breathing in the mountain air, admiring every sound emanating from the scenery. 

Flip came up behind you, wrapping his large arms around you as you both rocked side to side with the ebbing and flowing of the waves. He kissed the top of your head, trailing down to your ear, whispering sweet nothings as his lips gnawed at the sensitive skin. Moving his hands to grasp onto your open tits, massaging the pillows with his large paws, eliciting a moan from your lips. 

“God I love you, Y/N,” he whispered moving down your neck, sucking little marks along the way as you found a hand in his thick hair, gripping it slightly at the pressure he applied to your neck. 

“I-I love you too, Phil,” you gasped out, feeling his hardening erection on your ass. Your hand snaked around to grip his dick, pumping it so you felt every angry vein bulging from it. Gathering the precum building up around his weeping head, rubbing it into the warm skin.  

Just then, he replaced your hand with his as he lined up with your wetness that had built up. Sliding his pulsing cock into your weeping entrance, “F-fuck honey,” he groaned out, “open up for me.” 

You bent forward, allowing his cock to penetrate you deeper and deeper. Your walls vibrating around him as he came closer to your cervix, “you are so fuckin’ tight, babe,” he thrust in hard, balls slapping, “no matter how many times I fuck this little cunt.” 

He moved a hand on your hip and wrapped another in your hair, pulling until your back was arched in the most magical way, “Ohm-my god honey,” you wailed, “t-that feels…” 

“Uhmm… feels good huh,” he thrust in a little faster, tightening the hold on your hip and hair. 

“God you look so fuckin’ beautiful right now,” his gyrations in full force as the sounds of slaps penetrated the mountainside. 

“So. Fuckin’. Perfect,” he pronounced as he reveled in your screams and cries for release. The more he pulled your gorgeous locks, the more your walls fluttered around him. 

“Phil,” you bawled out, “c-can I p-please c-cum.” 

“You wanna cum honey?” he growled out, keeping his pace steady and unwavering as he rearranged your guts in the best way he possibly could.

“Y-yes, please baby!” you relented writhing under his powerful strokes. He moved his hand from your hip to your aching clit, rubbing small, but fast circles, bringing you to the edge of an ear-shattering orgasm. 

“Mother f-fucker,” you groaned out, releasing your pent up frustrations into the wind, your cunt milking his cock the hardest it possibly could. 

“That’s it, honey, cum all over it,” he kept his thrusting up, becoming more erratic the more your walls clenched down on him. 

“Fuck honey,” he stammered out through his clenched teeth, pumping his cock a few more times into your vibrating hole, then releasing his hot sticky spend onto your walls, coating them in a donut glaze. 

“Jesus fuckin’,” he gasped out, pulsing the last of his spend as he pulled his softening erection from your pussy, watching the mixture pour out of your gaping hole. 

He ran his hands down the expanse of your back, rubbing your ass cheeks in a massage of sorts, watching and listening to the wetness seeping from your cunt, admiring the sight more than the nature surrounding the both of you. 

“Fuck you take my cum so well, honey,” he scooped the remainder dripping out to stuff it back in your overstimulated wetness. 

“Only for you baby,” you panted, lifting your back upright once again, and turning to your sweat sheened husband, to place your hands on his chest and look up at him in total bliss. 

“I love you, Phil,” you stroked him, leaning into a kiss. 

“I love you most,” he whispered out, “but can we please go swimming now? I’m so fuckin’ hot,” he laughed as you nodded up towards him. Taking your hand he led you into the cold embrace of the lake before you. 

The remainder of those few hours were spent swimming and fooling around like the both of you were in high school. Scaring each other in the water, him putting you on his shoulders, racing around the bay, and floating to admire the skyline that Tahoe provided for you. 

It was definitely a vacation much needed and well deserved. 

 _____________

GOD I LOVED READING THIS OVER AND OVER AGAIN... I THINK I COULD DO ANOTHER PART FOR SURE... MAYBE 👀

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

[nightwingshero]

All I Wanted

So...I did a thing. @sapphicvalhallas maybe I wasn’t as innocent as I claimed. Anyway, so I’m gonna be honest, I just wrote this out because I got inspired by a few songs. Mainly Misguided Ghosts and All I Wanted by Paramore. Hence the name. But...yeah.

“Do you think he’ll be happy?” I whispered, glancing up at Rowan as insecurity ate at my insides. She met me with a glowing smile as she stuffed the little booties in the gift bag with the paper.

“I know he will be. Having a miniature version of himself running around? He’s going to be ecstatic.”

I smiled, feeling reassured as I finished tying the bow around the plastic stick and setting in the bag. I was about two months, or at least, that’s what one of the doctors in the Project had said. Luckily, she still stuck with the doctor/patient confidentiality. The idea that the family was growing elated them, and I was curious if she had been more excited than I was. But that was what led us here, Rowan and I, away from her cabin in the woods with Jacob, and getting out of the ranch from John’s watchful eye.

If I was being honest, deep down I was terrified. So fucking terrified. The absolute joy the woman expressed, forced me to put a smile on my face, but I didn’t feel it. I went home, vomited up all the anxieties, fears, and trauma that went along with news like this for someone like me. Not that I was alone. No, many women have had to deal with stuff like I had, and I reminded myself of that. But to me? That defining moment haunted me enough that even the bliss twisted my nightmares into reality. Something that was supposed to be uplifting, showed me just how much my heart still bled.

But this was a new beginning, the real fresh start of my life, unlike what had happened when I first moved here. The blotched arrest, the constant fighting…falling in love with the enemy, and the ultimate betrayal. It was like I had free fallen into absolute chaos and it wasn’t until I realized what made me happy, that I was able to breathe.

“Wren?”

My eyes snapped back up to Rowan’s dark brown ones, a bit startled. “Hmm?”

Rowan frowned, leaning forward to squeeze my hand. “Hey, are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine! I was just deep in thought. Did you say something?”

She opened herself, but there was a sharp knock on the door, drawing both of our attention. Without waiting to be called in, Jane burst through the door. I smiled at the presence of my favorite redhead, something smart on the tip of my tongue, but I stop as her frantic eyes meet mine.

“Sister Wren, we need to leave. Now.”

Rowan glanced at me as my frown deepened. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She swallowed, closing her eyes briefly. “The ranch. It was attacked. The alarm had been triggered.”

“When?” Rowan demanded. I couldn’t move, let alone speak, as I went cold.

“About 20-30 minutes ago—”

“That long?!” I shriek, shooting up. “How the hell am I just now hearing about this?” I stormed out of the room, heading outside with both women on my heel.

“I just found out—”

I yanked open the driver side door and climbed in. Jane looked at me in shock, but I didn’t care. I didn’t need my Chosen driving me around, I only relented sometimes for John’s sake. I didn’t trust Jane to throw caution to the wind. I glared at her through the window. “Get in the fucking car.”

She pursed her lips before climbing into the passenger side, Rowan climbing in the back. I didn’t think about seatbelts, I had barely given Rowan enough time to close the door. Gravel flies as I slaw on the gas, Jane looking at me like a crazed woman, and in this moment, I was.

“John is still at the bunker, right? Has he been informed?” I asked. “Fuck, Randy is at the house. Was he the one that called? I hope he’s okay.” Jane hesitated, not saying a word. I looked at her, but the second our eyes met, she looked away. “Is he at the bunker, Jane?” I breathed out, panic rising in my chest from her silence.

“Wren—”

“Damn it, Jane, where the hell is my husband?” I snapped. “He went to the bunker like he had planned, right? He told me this morning that that’s what—”

“He never left.” She whispered, but it was as if she screamed it straight in my ear, a ring beginning to sound. “He stayed home, he wanted to make sure he was home so he would have time to surprise you with a date night. He…he insisted that he wouldn’t beat you home from the bunker.”

The sound that escapes my throat is strangled as I grip the steering wheel tighter, my foot pressing down a little more. Rowan clutches my shoulder. “John is surrounded by Chosen all the time, there are guards stationed at your home 24/7, Wren. I’m sure he’s fine.”

I tried the best I could, but I began to panic, on the verge of hyperventilating as my mind ran wild with the possibilities. Finally, I turned on our drive with Jane insisting I slowed down. I paid her no mind as I left a trail of dust behind us. My heart sank as we passed the YES sign, bullet holes and blood stains tainting the white paint. Jane squeezed the door handle as we came around the corner, slamming on the brakes and coming to a skid.

Jumping out, the breath escaped from my lungs completely. Blood, bodies, and chaos covered the lawn of my very home. I staggered, my hand over my mouth as I saw faces of my own loyal followers and people I had once helped, lifeless. A few more of our people milled around, trying to do what they could to clean up the devastation, but their faces were grim, heartbroken and mournful for the family members they had lost. I looked crazed as some newer members spoke to our Chosen, shaken and a bit hysterical, as they eyed me.

“Is that--”

“The Judge, his wife. You know Sister Wren, don’t you?”

“Does she know?”

There words barely register, and I rushed to the house, not caring for a second if Rowan and Jane were with me. The hairs on the back of my neck had stood on end as I ran. Randy was with John, John was safe. I repeated it tom myself over and over as I made it through the threshold. My legs push harder to get me up the stairs faster, and I stumble to a stop as I come to the top.

The door is barely open, just ajar enough for me to see the sunlight coming through. My heart hammers against my chest as I take a step forward. Normally, he would either keep it shut or decide to keep it open wide. I shouldn’t be this scared of a door, but I’m shaking. Suddenly I’m a heroine in one of those horror movies I force John to watch. We’ll both laugh at my comparison to Laurie from Halloween, and that’s the only comfort I can cling to in this moment.

“John?” I called, taking another step. “Baby, are you okay?” Nothing, but silence. My breath quickens even more. “This isn’t funny, you stubborn ass. Just please tell me you’re okay.”

I picked up the pace when I got no reply, a panicked sob choking me. “Please be okay. For the love of God, baby, be okay.” I shove the door open, looking and seeing nothing at first. But then I take it in, the messy desk, papers scattered, his laptop on the floor, and that’s when I finally find him.

I’m on my knees in seconds, my hands on his chest, as the tears pour. His eyes are closed, a tint to his cool skin that doesn’t settle well with me. He’s blue. He’s too fucking blue. “Baby, I’m here. I got you.” I cry harder when he doesn’t move. I barely notice the blood soaking through my jeans. I’m too busy shaking him. “John, wake up, I’m here. It’s okay.” I pull at his hand to place it against my face, but its cold and it won’t stay. My eyes squeeze shut as a painful wail finally escapes, all my feelings refusing to be bottled any longer.

I grab him, pulling him on my lap as I cradle his head, my lips pressed against his forehead as I cry. I rock back and forth, because I don’t know what else to do. The movement disturbed something in his other hand, drawing my attention. The frame was broken and the glass shattered, but our wedding picture was still in decent condition. My rocking increases as I sob harder. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

I squeeze him harder, willing him to open his eyes. To cough, and scoff, only to make a stupid remark that would only make me smack him on the arm. To snap at me to stop because I’m making him dizzy. But none of that comes and I hear a distant shrieking as my hand fists his hair, placing my forehead awkwardly against his. I hadn’t had the chance to tell him, he would never know that I was carrying our child. And I was alone. I would have to do this all alone, without my partner, my anchor. It was crushing, I could barely breathe. As the soreness in my throat builds, I realize that I had been the one shrieking. “You promised! You swore to me that you would never leave me!”

Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me back, but I only held on to my husband tighter. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let go. But the person was stronger. And I turned as they ripped me away and swung blindly. Jacob dodged it with ease as I tried to pull away, only to slam my fists against his chest. He pulled me forward, engulfing me in a hug as I collapsed against him. “He’s gone, Jacob. He’s gone.”

“I know.” Jacob replied, his voice gruff. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t offer condolences, just stood there as I fell apart. I pulled away, glancing to see Rowan and Joseph there in the doorway, both silently crying. “Get her out of here, Ro.”

Rowan nodded, gently pulling on my arm. I followed, allowing her to pull me along. I was too numb, too out of it to protest. This wasn’t real. This didn’t feel real. I wanted nothing more than to just go back to this morning, laying in bed with him laying on top of me and snoring lightly. I would give anything to go back to two nights ago, to relive the fight we had. The way that he had slipped down the stairs to carry me up from the stairs because I was too stubborn to sleep in our room. I wanted his arms around me.

“I’ll get you some tea.” Rowan whispered as she helped me to couch. I say nothing in response, and she leaves.

I had been sitting there what felt like hours, a mug full of cold tea in my hands. I had only been sipping it here and there. They had already carried him out, plans on what to do next being thrown around. I couldn’t believe it, even as I sat covered in his blood. The sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention to see Joseph standing next to the now lit fireplace. I couldn’t remember when that had happened.

“May I join you?” he asked softly. I just nodded aboundingly in response, still struggling with finding words. So, it’s silent for a while, until he decides to break the silence. “I’m sorry for your loss, Wren. This is hard on all of us.”

I sniffed, glancing down at my cup. “I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think for a second that they would attack here, because…”

“Because of you?”

I looked at him, his soft eyes meeting mine. “I still have some friends…they didn’t exactly understand, but they love me. I thought that they wouldn’t attack either of us because of me. It was so stupid, because I lived in my own world where I believed that we were untouchable because I was an ally at one point. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. And John paid the price for my pride.” My voice broke as my shoulders sagged.

“That wasn’t pride, Wren. You wanted, and wished, for a happy future for the both of you. There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I can’t do this without him, Joseph. I just can’t.” I sobbed.

He placed his hand on my shoulder. “It will hurt for a long time, I know. But you can—"

“I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant and John’s dead, Joseph. He’s gone, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Joseph hesitated, a bit shocked at the reveal, but brushed it off. “He left you everything, Wren. You and the child are well taken care of. It’s in his will—”

“I don’t give a fuck about his will or his money!” I shrieked, my eyes squeezed shut as a broken sob wracked my body. I want my husband!” I began to shake, my breath quick. “Who am I without him? What am I if I don’t have him? How the hell am I supposed to do this without my other half? I can’t do this alone!”

“You are not alone.” He replied softly with passion. “I know you’re not religious, and you don’t believe in what I preach. But you hold a pivotal role in our community, an example of strong faith and leadership that people follow. This community is your family, Wren. We are your family.” Joseph whispered, his voice softly giving way to that Georgia drawl he could sometimes hide.

“False faith? I’m pretty sure that’s a sin, Joseph.” I sound hollow, a shell of myself as the words tumble out. Words that was meant to be something like a joke coming across robotically and empty. All I could do was stare at my blood covered hands numbly.

“You had faith in John.” His name cuts deeply and its enough for my eyes to meet Joseph’s. Despite the fact that they were technically the same color, they were so different than John’s. A serene calm vs the playful mischief that my husband always portrayed. “The trust you had in him, the love you had for him, created a loyalty that spread and touched those he was loyal to, bringing you into a family that welcomed you with open arms, that still accepts and loves you. Your faith in him was enough for that. And he…he loved you more than he loved himself.” My face contorted, fresh tears following the trails of old ones as the pain throbbed. “That was something John struggled with every day. He would take, because he loved himself more than he loved others. And you saw that, didn’t you? The night you first met him.”

“The Cleansing.” I replied lowly and Joseph gave a single nod.

“That’s right. And it was your fear of him not being able to love you in return, not as you did him, that drove you two apart before. My brother John was loved by few and feared by many. He wasn’t always like that. When we were young, he was full of joy, easily preyed upon. He wanted to watch the world burn. And after he met you, after this started, John would have done it all for you if he had to. Because he finally understood what I meant. He loved you more than he loved anything.”

“Except you.”

Joseph hummed, closing his eyes momentarily. “Do you have any siblings, Wren?”

I knew he already knew the answer, but I appreciated that he was giving me the courtesy and respect to offer me the chance to tell him myself. “No.”

“Well, when you have siblings, there’s this…feeling. This bond that is interwoven in your very nature to protect and love them. Jacob knows that better than all of us. But it isn’t a bond or a love you choose.” Joseph placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You are the bond, the love, he had chosen. You’re what kept him in the light. At the end, it wasn’t Eden’s Gate that gave him the redemption he longed for…it was you.”

My face contorted as my heart twisted painfully. “He didn’t always do good, but he loved me. He loved this family and his people. He learned to love, Joseph. And for this to happen to him…?”

“We can’t explain the bad that happens. Only fight it with love and faith.”

I scoff lightly, but Joseph doesn’t say anything. “How did it happen?” I whispered. “Nobody has told me.”

Joseph shifted, removing his hand as he looked down at his book. “Jacob believes it was a sniper. Someone came in, and John fought, but it was a sniper that…”

I swallowed, clenching my teeth as I glared tearfully at the flames. “Grace.” I hissed. He glanced back at me as I dug my nails into the meat of my thigh.

“What do you plan to do?”

I looked at him, the fire in my eyes burning as my mouth twisted in a sneer. “What I’m meant to do. I’m the Judge, Joseph. So that’s what I will do. I will Judge their actions accordingly. All their sins, their transgressions.”

“And then?”

“And then I will release every once of Wrath that I have left for what they’ve taken from me.” My voice is icy and dark, but I don’t care. “They will not be given forgiveness. They aren’t worthy of it. And they’re going to realize just what John’s death has cost them. And I will show no amount of mercy.”

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

meet me in the past part 4

A/N: This is part four to: ‘meet me in the past’. I know it’s been Awhile since the last chapter, I hope you still enjoy though! Please let me know what you think! 

Summary: After Stanley Uris takes his own life, his daughter goes to find the recipients of his letters and ends up in Derry. After and incounter with IT, she ends up traveling back into the past, meeting the younger version of her dad and his friends.

warnings: cursing and mentions of suicide

tagging; @artlovingbre​ @cocastyle​

‘Beverly, you know I love you, but you have got to stop talking about the poem for like five seconds,’ Emily groaned out, flopping back into the couch and pretending to smother herself. Beverly’s laugh carried out throughout the living room, as she tried to pluck the pillow away from Emily’s face. ‘I think it’s Bill’, Bev ignored her, and getting back to ranting about the poem.

Emily threw the pillow away from her face, letting out another loud groan. ‘I don’t think it’s Bill’, she replied. Beverly turned her head sharply, her face contorting into one of confusion. ‘ You don’t, how come? Who else could it be?’

Emily sat up, facing Beverly as best as she could, reaching out to grab the bloody card the poem as written on once more.

‘I don’t know, I just have a feeling. It might be Ben? I mean Ben is crazy about you, I’m pretty sure that he would do anything you asked of him, anything.’

Emily didn’t exactly want to spill Ben’s secret, but she was sure that if Bev would stop being so convinced it was Bill, she would realize what an amazing boy Ben was, and how good they would be together.

Besides, Emily was absolutely sure that it was Ben that had written the poem, as he had accidently told her, after Richie pushed him one to many times about his crush on Bev. They had been in the arcade, just Richie, Ben and her, though Ben and her were mostly watching Richie play. Ben was telling Emily about a romantic love story he was reading, and Richie had jokingly interrupted, saying that Ben should leave these stories to himself and then just recreate the scenes with Beverly. He had been jabbing at Ben for the entire day, and Ben had enough. He had stormed off and Emily went after him. Once outside of the arcade, Ben had admitted that he was the one that had written Bev the poem and Richie knew about it, and Ben was scared that Richie would tell on him. Emily promised to talk to Richie, which she did. Richie promised up and down that he would never tell Ben’s secret, and that he was just joking around.

Emily seemed to do that a lot here, mediate between people. The losers clearly had a lot of deep-rooted problems that showed in the way they interacted with others, and Emily felt compelled to try and help them. The losers were all amazing people, each with their flaws and plus points, and everyday Emily spend with them, she started to care about them more and more.

It was clear that the losers started to really care about her too, and it showed. Even though she was about the same age as them, they treated her like a little sister. She had met Henry, finally, even though she would have preferred to never ever met him. She had been with Eddie on their way to Barrens, where they would try and figure out a plan to find Georgie, as Bill was still obsessive over that, when they heard the word ‘fag’ being shouted at them. Eddie walked quicker, but Emily was not that smart and turned around to face the boy who called out to them. He was with three other people, Patrick, Victor and Belch, Emily would later learn.

Emily hadn’t realized the danger she was in, so she had stubbornly told Henry to ‘piss off’, as she wanted to help Eddy. Turns out that Henry was not opposed to hitting girls, and Emily had a blue eye to prove for it. Eddie had ran off, getting the others, because he knew he would never win alone against the entire Bowers gang. As the rest of the losers came as fast as they could to help Emily, Henry and the others ran off, seeing Henry’s father in his cop car driving around, shooting a deadly glare Henry’s way.

Henry dropped Emily on the ground harshly, Mike and Bill dropping beside her, already trying to access the damage. Richie, as always, couldn’t keep his mouth shut, ‘You best watch out next time fucker, mess with one of us, you mess with us all.’ Henry looked like he would come back for a second, but ultimately decided against it, walking away with the rest of his group.

Emily’s eye had hurt, but she recognized her luck, as she heard the losers story’s about what Henry had done to them. They had broken Richie’s glasses, carved into Ben stomach, called Beverly a slut every change they got, and what pissed her off the most, they rubbed Stan’s face into the snow until it bled. They were psychopaths she realized, and she hoped to god Henry would get what he deserved. It made her so mad that the losers were so helpless, they couldn’t tell their parents because what could they do, and they couldn’t tell the police either because the chief was Henry’s father.

Despite knowing how lucky she had been, Emily’s eye was killing her the first two days. Henry had gotten her good, she could barely open her eye, but thankfully Eddie had thought to put some ice on it. The swelling was down quite a bit by the next day, and it didn’t look as blue as it did the day before either. One good thing came from her altercation with Henry though. It seemed that now Stan had seen that the Bowers gang was after Emily too, he finally trusted her completely. He didn’t seem to stray away from her anymore, and was as honest to her as he as to the other losers. Bill had told her that he had never seen Stan adjust to someone as fast as he did with her, and Emily felt a little proud at that.

The bad thing about Bowers beating her up, was that the losers seemingly thought she was a wallflower that needed protection at all times. They would try and keep her away from any plans they made concerning Pennywise, and would never let her be alone, except if she had to go to the bathroom. She did her best to worm herself into conversation, and tried to participate in the plan, and the losers would mostly let her, but later they would try to minimize her role as best as they could. It frustrated Emily, but she didn’t say anything, as she knew how much this plan meant to Bill. She kept an eye on her dad, because of what he did in her time, but he had a stoic face if he wanted to, and if he thought about backing out, he didn’t show it. He didn’t help with making the plans either though, he would sit there and nod, but never suggest and idea of his own.

The plan as it stood was that the losers would distract IT, while Bill shot at it, hopefully killing IT efficiently. The details itself were still being worked out.

Emily thought that things were going well here. She had talked to Bev a lot about what happened in the future, and Bev and her would try to find a way to get her home, but Emily wasn’t in a hurry. She missed her mom of course, and her friends in Atlanta, but she knew that this would be the only change she would get to spend some more time with her father. The faster she went back to her time, the less time she would have with him.

So everything was fine really, and moments like the one she was having with Bev, laughing and gossiping on the couch, made her happy. Suddenly, a knock on the door startled her and Bev. They stopped laughing instantly, both of them more than a little paranoid after their encounters with IT.  Beverly placed her hand against her lips in a sshh sign, and Emily got up quietly, going to hide in Beverly’s bedroom. This was their routine if Bev’s dad came home, or if anyone knocked on the door. Bev would open up, while Emily hid, so no one would find out that she was hidden in Beverly’s house. She left the door to Bev’s room open slightly, so she could carefully peer through it to see who was at the door. She could hear Bev’s voice carrying through the apartment, and by the sounds of it, it was just the mailman knocking on the door.

Emily tensed, a gust of wind coming from behind her caused her to shiver. She turned around, and was shocked to find the window in Beverly’s room open, leading towards the emergency exit stairs, towards the back alley. Emily closed the door softly, effectively shutting Bev’s voice out. She still didn’t want anyone to know she was here. If the mailman would find out, he might tell Bev’s dad, and neither of them wanted that.

She walked over to the window slowly, curiosity killed the cat they always say, and curiosity may be Emily’s greatest weakness. She peered out of the window, but saw nothing. Not a thing. Shrugging Emily pulled back, closing the window with soft thud. She was just convincing herself that she must have accidently opened it because she wanted some air, as she suddenly felt an intense pain on the side of her head. She felt to the ground and groaned, her hand instantly reaching up to the side where she felt a warm liquid. She was bleeding. She looked up to see The clown, grinning devilish at her, before her started to contorted into something else. In front her, her father now stood. Not the young Stan, but the adult one. Her father who had killed himself.

She knew logically, that this wasn’t her real father, he couldn’t be, because he was dead, but all logic flew out of the window the moment Emily laid eyes on him. ‘Dad’, she croaked out, forgetting for a second why she was hiding in Beverly’s room. IT dad looked at her, but didn’t step forward, or did anything to help Emily get up. Emily scrambled up against the wall, her hand cradling the wound, but she didn’t take her eyes of her father for even a split second. IT dad bowed down now, grabbing Emily’s ankle, dragging her across the floor towards him. It seemed as if the touch made Emily’s brain work again, as she realized that this wasn’t her dad, but Pennywise.

She screamed, loudly, and Beverly came crashing into the room. She dove forward, grabbing Emily by the arms and dragging her in the opposite direction of pennywise. He was still in her dad’s form, and he didn’t let go, no matter how hard Beverly pulled. Suddenly he smirked, something Emily had never seen him do, he either smiled genuinely, or he didn’t smile at all. ‘Are you just as much of a coward as I was Emily’? He asked. Emily was shocked, he sounded just like her real father. It caused anger to course through Emily’s body, spreading like a wildfire, and she pulled her leg back, and stomped on his face. Out of shock IT let her go, and he turned back into a clown instantly. Beverly dragged her back with her; closing her bedroom door with a loud bang.

‘My dad wasn’t a coward’, Emily screamed, thought she wasn’t sure if IT was still in the room.

‘Oh god Emily, we’ve got to get you to a hospital.’ Beverly cried out, and without taking their eyes off the door, the two girls stumbled back out of the apartment.

She didn’t need to go the hospital eventually. As the girls were riding Bev’s bike towards the hospital, the girls crossed paths with Ben and Mike, who had been on their way to them. As soon as they saw Emily and her head bleeding, they ushered the girls towards Stan’s house.

Mike, ever the voice reason, told them that it would be to hard to take Emily too the hospital, because questions would be asked, they would need an explanation that they didn’t have, and it may result in Emily’s parents being called. Beverly still wanted her to go the hospital, but Emily accepted that Mike was right. They would want to contact her family, and though the losers understood that her parents were a sensitive subject, the nurses and doctors at the hospitals undoubtably not be so understanding.

Instead of going to the hospital, Emily chose to go over to Stan’s house, where the others were gathered. It seemed that she getting beat up quite a lot as of late. Beverly, Mike, Ben and herself rang Stan’s door, and Emily hoped to that he would open soon, cause she wasn’t sure how long she would still be able to stand on her legs. Luckily Stan opened it as soon as the bell had rang. It seemed like his parents weren’t home. Emily was glad, she wasn’t particularly close with her grandparents, as they lived far away from her. Stan gasped as he saw Emily wobbling on her knees. He instantly pulled her inside of his house, wrapping her one arm around his shoulder, Mike doing the same to her other side, and guiding her up the stairs towards his bedroom, where everyone else was. Bill, Eddie and Richie jumped up once they all came in, hastily making room for her on the bed by shoving all the supplies on the side.

Mike and Stan carefully sat her down, Eddie taking Mike’s place beside her to look at her wound. He wouldn’t touch it, and he was squeamish because of the blood. ‘You really should become a doctor you know’, Emily laughed, but Eddie was to focused on the wound to respond. ‘Yep, definitely a doctor in progress’, she said absentmindedly once more. ‘Bev, go get towels and water, and bandages hurry’, Eddie barked out instructions, and Bev hurriedly went to get the items. Once she got back Eddie wasted no time in dipping the towel into the freezing water Bev had brought with her, before pressing it to Emily’s wound.

She hissed, and tried to get away from the sensations, but Stan was too much in her way for her to be able to move. Instead she reached out with her hand, trying that way to get rid of the excruciating pain, but once more Stan stopped her. He grabbed her wrist muttering; ‘let him, he knows what he’s doing.’

It reminded Emily of the time she had nearly been hit by a car, her mother dragged her backwards just in time, but Emily had sliced her knee open and had to have stitches. Her father had been called then too, and while her mother was crying and panicking, he remained calm and had held Emily’s hand as the doctor stitched her up. She had been crying, not because she was in pain, but because she was afraid of the doctor, and her father had told her the story of how him and her mother met to distract her.

It had worked of course. Only later did she realize that Stan must have been just as worried as her mom, only he did a better job of hiding it. Emily couldn’t quite remember, but she was pretty sure that they filled a lawsuit against the driver who had just taken off without checking if she was alright.

It did the trick now too, by the time Emily zoned back in, Eddie finished placing the last bandage on her head, looking satisfied with the result. ‘You get beat up a lot huh?’ Richie joked, and Emily and the others started laughing. Everyone expect Bill. ‘T-t-this stops n-n-now’, he said, getting up from his spot in the floor, already walking towards the door. ‘Bill, where are you going?’ Bev asked, getting up aswell.

‘To k-k-kill IT. My b-b-brother is down t-t-there, I h-h-have to h-h-help him. IT k-k-keeps hurting us b-b-because we l-l-let him, s-s-so I’m g-g-going a-a-after him n-n-now, and t-t-this time h-h-he won’t g-g-get away.’ Bill practically ran out of the room, the rest waiting half a second before scrambling up all the same. Everyone ran towards their bikes, Emily getting up behind Bev, as she had been in no condition to ride a bike on her own. Bill was an idiot, Emily thought bitterly as they rode towards the only place they could think Bill might have gone, the Neibolt house.

Bill was an idiot, the plan is even finished yet.

The bike came to a screeching halt in front of the house, looking menacing, seemingly looming over the losers club, and Emily gulped. She wasn’t too keen of getting into that house. ‘Bill wait’, Ben called out, and at the sound of his voice bill turned around.

‘The plan isn’t ready yet,’ Richie finished, skipping from one leg to the other, he seemed as nervous as Emily felt.

‘Look you don’t have to go in with me’, Bill said, ‘but what happens if another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty, or Ed Corcoran? Are you just gonna pretend like it’s happening like the rest of this stupid town? Cause I can’t. I go home and all I see is that Georgie isn’t there. His clothes, his toys, even his stupid stuffed animals, but not him. So for me, walking into this house is easier than walking into my own.’ Bill looked so determined as he said the words, it made Emily determined too. Fuck this clown, they were going to beat him.

‘Wow’, Richie breathed out, ‘he didn’t stutter once’.

Emily took a step forward, to join Bill inside the house, but Ben’s hand stopped her. ‘No’, he said, ‘not you.’

Emily frowned at him. ‘Why not me?’ She asked, looking around the group questioningly. They looked around nervously, not meeting her eye. It wasn’t like she wanted to go into the house. She was so scared, but these people were her friends, even family, literally. And for family, there was nothing that she wouldn’t do.

‘Someone has to be on lookout’, Stan said suddenly, ‘I’ll wait with you.’ Emily frowned, her dad looked absolutely mortified with idea of going inside the house , like he would rather kill himself than go in there. ‘W-w-who wants to s-s-stay out here?’ Bill asked and in an instant everyone except Beverly raised their hands.

They decided to let the straws decide, whoever got the shortest one had to go into the house, though Bill already said he would go in no matter what. Emily isn’t even allowed to pick a straw, she had to stay out there no matter what. The losers said it was because she was injured, but she knew it was because they didn’t want her to be in danger, though she couldn’t really argue, she was hurt, so she kept quite as the others picked their straws.

Stan’s face seemingly gives nothing away as he picked a straw, but Emily had known her father long enough to be able to tell that he was ecstatic as he picked a straw that was definitely not the shortest. Richie and Eddie picked the shortest ones, and Eddie didn’t even complain, though Emily would feel how scared all three boys were .

She wanted to say something, to wish them good luck, but she couldn’t think of anything to say, and before she could, they were already inside the house. Stan started crying, hiding his face away in Mike’s shoulder. ‘ I can’t go in that house Mike’, he sobbed. ‘I just can’t.’ It was strange, to see her father so scared and crying, because Emily had almost never seen her dad cry. The group that was still outside huddled  together, and Emily gripped Stan’s arm and Ben’s wrist tightly. They stayed in their cocoon of warmth for a while, until they heard screaming from inside the house.

They broke apart quickly, all looking at the front door, hoping against all hope that Bill, Eddie and Richie would run out completely unharmed, but the door doesn’t budge. ‘We have to go in there’, Emily heard her own voice say, even though she didn’t realize she was about to say something. Beverly nodded, and because she did, Ben did too. Mike and Stan seemed like they wanted to say something, but Bev and Emily had already ran into the house, there was no time for hesitations, their friends were in trouble.

Emily could feel her heartbeat pounding so fast it’s hard to focus on anything else, but then she hears Richie breath out; ‘Eddie’, and she and Bev ran towards the sound. In her peripheral vision she could see that Ben, Stan and Mike were behind them, but she didn’t turn to get a better look. Bev froze in front of her, and when Emily looked up, she understood why. Eddie was sitting down, cradling his arm as it was clearly broken, over his face was white glove that belonged to IT, who was turned with his back towards him, yelling at Bill and Richie who stood on the opposite side of the room.

‘It was real enough for Georgie’, IT cackled, and he jumped forward towards Richie and Bill. Bev didn’t hesitate a second, she plunged an iron rod, straight into his eyes, and then jumped beside him towards Eddie. Bill and Richie also jumped forward, trying to get Eddie up and out of the door. There is a second of absolute silent, and then the screaming of the losers began. Emily rans forward into the room some more, Ben beside her, and Mike and Stan behind him. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t think straight in her gaze of panic.

IT turned around, going after Eddie once more, but then leaned back at the last minute, his menacing laugh filling the room. He then turned towards the group still at the door, slicing Ben’s stomach so fast nobody has time to respond. Emily dropped down on her knees, taking her jacket of and pressing it into Ben’s stomach, refusing to give pennywise a second of her time when Ben needed her.

It seemed that IT left the room then, as suddenly Bev was beside her, pushing everyone out, Bill and Mike carrying Eddie outside of the house. The second fresh air hit Emily, she wanted to take a five year nap, she was pretty sure that this encounter cost her at least 10 years of her life. The losers didn’t pause though, so she didn’t either, jumping back on Stan’s bike, not even thinking about it, and neither did Stan as they paddle away as fast as humanly possible.

Watching Eddie get taking away by his pathetic excuse of a mother was painful, and Emily wanted to help him, but she was once again rendered silent as his mother insulted each one of the losers, before grabbing him and taking him to the hospital. It was good Eddie was getting treatment though, Emily hoped the pain wasn’t to bad and if it was, she hoped it would get better soon.

As soon as the car was out of their sight, Bill turned back towards the group.

‘I-I-I saw the w-w-well, w-w-we know w-w-where it is now. Next t-t-time we’ll b-b-be better p-p-prepared.’ He said, so sure of his case, even though Eddie and Ben were badly injured. Emily looked up at Ben, who was indeed bleeding a lot, it made her worried, but for some reason she was scared to interrupt the atmosphere that hung around the group, she didn’t want to be the target of rage that was spreading across the room. Nobody responded to his words.

‘N-n-next time’, Bill tried again, but this time he was interrupted by Stan.

‘No, no next time Bill’. He screamed, his eyebrows set in a frown. ‘You’re insane.’

‘What do you mean no next time’? Emily asked, her fist clenching together.

‘I mean that I don’t wanna die, I would like to live. I’m never going back into that house’, Stan bristled.

‘Your friends need you,’ she screamed back to Stan. ‘ You’re just gonna leave them to deal with this on their own? Already? You are so different than I thought you were.’

Stan’s frown deepened. ‘You’ve barely known me for more than a week, you don’t know me at all.’

‘Clearly not, you know, maybe IT was right, maybe my father is a coward.’ Emily spat out, she was so mad. To her, her dad had seem invincible, and strong, he was her hero, and she looked up to him. But he wasn’t brave, or a hero. He was a coward, who left his friends to deal with all the problems. He didn’t deserve her adoration, because he hadn’t even written his own daughter a letter, because apparently she didn’t deserve and explanation.

Emily was furious at Stan for all sorts of reason, but most importantly, because she still loved him so much despite of all of this. She still wanted to go birdwatching with him, she still wanted make puzzles with him, she still wanted to hear him and his mother happily chatting in the kitchen while she made her homework in the other room.

She thought, stupidly, that if she saw her dad here, being brave and trying to protect his friends, that it would stop the conflict inside of her. Regardless of it being stupid, he was doing the opposite of that, and because of it, the conflict of love and hate inside of Emily just seemed to grow stronger, tearing her apart even more.

‘Emily’, Bev spoke up worriedly, she clearly saw where this was going. She wanted to help Emily, but Emily was to mad to think twice about what she was saying.

‘What does your father even have to do with this’? Stan asked, his hands waving as if to prove his point.

‘Because you are my father you dumb asshole’, Emily bellowed. Bev slapped her arm, trying to get her to stop talking, but it was already too late. The words were out in the open already. She vaguely heard Stan’s sharp intake of breath. Emily started heaving, heavy sobs rattling her entire body. She saw Stan’s face, looking so shocked, he had no idea what to even say. It was then that Emily realized what she had just did. She hesitated for another second, before turning around on her heels, and running like IT was after her.

‘Emily’, she could hear Beverly call after her, but Emily didn’t stop. She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been. She had just spilled her secret to Stan and now she would have nowhere to go. She ran until she physically couldn’t anymore, and then she dropped to her knees in the grass, her body still heaving with sobs.

‘Emily’, she heard Bev say once more, and that was weird, considering Emily had been running as fast as she could. As she looked behind her, It was clear that it wasn’t Bev, but instead IT stood directly behind her. His orange eyes were the last thing she saw, before she fell back on the grass, passed out.

[paperbagpetrichor]

Aaah I'm sorry, I'm not sure how far you're into jjba. Only if it's okay with you, would it be okay to request Josuke and a fem s/o hanging out outside until it starts to rain? btw your writing is amazing! 💜 😭

[ You’re all good!  I’m in the process of finishing DIU and love it ahh <3 Josuke is precious.  Thank you for requesting and being so kind and considerate!  I swear, I have the best anons, you’re all so sweet and caring and ohmygoodness??  I don’t deserve that love but I cherish it nonetheless ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) ]

The bright sunlight of the day seemed a bit out of place.  Not to say Morioh wasn’t usually a nice place - quite the opposite, in fact.  Almost every day you awoke to rays of illumination filtering through your curtains, warming your sleep-ridden body as you stretched and grabbed your caffeinated drink of choice for the day, heading out for school and always someone winding up alert even when you hadn’t finished your coffee or tea.  Luminescence was enough of a wake-up call, and even if the warmth was enough to comfort you, it wasn’t exactly putting you to sleep any time soon.

Except for last week.

Of course, why wouldn’t last week have made you incredibly tired?  When did finals ever make someone feel rejuvenated?  Right, never.  After a draining period of nothing but homework atop assignments and projects atop tests, a full year’s load of work piled upon one final exam with questions ranging from day one to the night before scattered haphazardly throughout page after page of the assessment packets, bubbling answer after answer only to erase or curse yourself as graphite clung to the edge of your hand, painting the entire answer document an unpleasant swath of gray, you could barely drag your body to the park.  Not even the gorgeous morning could restore the liveliness to your eyes.

Not to say that nothing could, however, because as you yawned and closed your eyes for a moment you opened them at the exact moment your feet were lifted off the ground, strong arms embracing you in a tight hug and practically crushing your body between them, eliciting a smile and a laugh from the both of you as you returned his gesture of affection.  After awhile of peaceful silence laced itself between the two of you, still melded into one, you managed to tease, “You’re going to suffocate me, Josuke.”

He gave you a snort before setting you down, looking you over for the first time since you’d arrived.  So overwhelmed at seeing you again after almost three weeks of physical separation and only sparse phone calls here and there, with both of you preparing for exams, he’d hardly wasted a moment to take you in before hugging the life out of you just to feel you, to know you were really there, and that he was, too, beside you once again after what seemed like decades.  Bags had sprouted beneath your eyes, and your skin was paler than usual, but somehow you still managed a smile.  Your presence would always bring a grin to his face, and even in your stressed state you were just as beautiful as the day he’d met you.  He took your hand in his and guided you to one of the multitudes of park benches, sitting down beside you before shaking his head and blinking.  Still expecting you to disappear the moment he opened his eyes, much to his joy, he found you, still there, smiling up at him.  “You look like you could use a rest,” he thought aloud, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.  “I could’ve just dropped by your place, you didn’t have to come all the way here…”

“‘All the way here’ is two blocks,” you giggled, playfully flicking his pompadour.  If you were anyone else, he probably would’ve killed you on the spot.  But you weren’t ‘anyone else,’ you were [y/n] [l/n], the girl who somehow took the time out of her schedule to defend his most prized possession (besides you, of course): his hair.  You thought it was unique, to say the least.  It fit him.  Just the right amount of craziness coupled with the attempted calmness he tried to keep around you: practically his personality, physically manifested.  “Though I have to say that needing a rest is an understatement.  Feels like I could sleep for years.”

“I know the feeling,” he chuckled, resting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him, gently and wordlessly easing your head onto his chest for comfort, his body like a big, strong pillow against your fatigued body.  “But that’s what we’ve got break for.”  With a pause, he suddenly opened his mouth to speak once again the moment he saw the same action reflected across your face, both accompanied by a look of concern, albeit for different reasons.  “And before you even think about it, you did fine, [y/n].  I know you did.”  Much to his relief, he felt you relax, even if only slightly, against him, sighing away whatever feeble protests you had to offer.

You closed your eyes for a moment.  His faith in you was unshakable, and sometimes it felt like an excess of stupid stubbornness, but at that time you couldn’t have been more grateful for it.  If all that work had resulted in nothing...no, you couldn’t think like that.  Not when he was so sure of you.  Not when he cared enough to reassure you.  “Thank you.  Same goes for you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he replied with a small, muted snort.

Rolling your eyes, you tilted your head back to face him, taking his hand in yours and giving it a comforting squeeze.  “Oh, please,” you began, “I know you worked just as hard as anyone else.  I believe in you - I know you did fine, too.”

Ah, jeez.  What would he do without you?  As much as he tried to remain himself externally, if only as a reassurance to you, he was still a bit shaken from the weeks himself.  Finals would take a toll on anyone, he supposed, but he hadn’t really thought much of it until he’d gone through them himself.  He would be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit nervous.  But your words were like honey, dripping with sentiment and coating him in confidence, and that statement - I believe in you - was enough to send his heart racing.  

“So, we both get some sleep, because we both need it -” Josuke’s eyes widened, since when were you telepathic? “- don’t even try to hide it, I know you too well.  Besides, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t tired.”  The two of you let out a soft laugh, sounding off a gentle melody of tranquility that you both needed more than you knew before you continued, “And then we start break.  Any plans yet?”

You felt him shrug against you.  “Nothing much, but I’ve got one thing I definitely want to do,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Which is?”

“Spend it all with you.”

You broke out into a mess of laughter.  “Oh my god, you’re so cheesy,” you managed between wheezes, taking the moment once you’d gotten enough air back into you to steal a kiss, sealing the deal.  “But I’ve gotta say, I love it.  And you.”

“Who’s the cheesy one now?” he chuckled, running a hand through your hair.  You stuck your tongue out like a young child after losing an argument, ultimately throwing your head back with defeat against his chest, allowing him to take the win for whatever it was worth.  It sounded lovely.  Really and truly, it did.  There wasn’t anything more you could’ve wanted to do during your break than catch up on all the time you’d missed with your boyfriend.

It honestly didn’t matter whatever the two of you did, as long as you were together.  A soft “It’s so good to see you again” escaped from your lips, but you didn’t try to hide it, leaning into him even more and savoring his touch.

He felt you surrender against him, and after he repeated the words back to you with equal truthfulness, he fell quiet, enjoying the serene blanket that had fallen atop the both of you after an insane week of work and woe.  It was exactly what the two of you needed.  Enjoying another’s company in silence was sometimes all it took, and thus it was precisely what the two of you did.  Every now and then you’d reposition yourself, taking his hand or giving him a gentle hug, and he’d offer the same, holding you closer and helping you both find the most pleasant positions, no longer two separate individuals but a unit of soft hearts and loving eyes. 

A few dark clouds had begun to roll in, but neither of you paid them much attention.  The darkening of the sky only let you unwind further, and as Josuke rested his head atop yours, the same was evident for him.  It wasn’t sleep, but it was something better, more calming: feeling one another against yourselves, worries fleeting with your touch and a steady lull hanging around you.  It didn’t take much more than a few minutes for that to change, however.  Just as you had begun to nod off in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms, something cold and wet hit your forehead.

Your eyes snapped open just as Josuke brought you to your feet, the both of you realizing the sudden rainfall at the same time, stunned into stillness as the gentle pitter-patter began to turn into a torrential downpour.  With a start as you regained control of your body you reached in your purse for your umbrella.  You came up empty-handed.  “Ah, crap, I left my umbrella at home,” you muttered to yourself bitterly, only to feel something soft and warm being draped across your head and shoulders like a makeshift hoodie.  With a glance up you found Josuke, who had taken your hand in his and begun to guide you out to the exit of the park, confusion rising in your throat as you realized he wasn’t wearing his jacket - oh.  

So that’s what that was.  Despite it you felt yourself sink into its comfortable softness, pulling it down over you as best a makeshift shield against the torrents as you could, following his footsteps but nevertheless calling out, “Hey, you’re gonna catch a cold -”

“- ‘All the way here’ is two blocks,” he retorted, casting a glance over his shoulder and shooting you a smile with a wink that was enough to melt your heart regardless of your concern and begrudgingly letting him continue, “I’ll be fine.”

You kept pace with him, and sure enough, faster than you expected, the two of you found yourselves on your front porch as you frantically unlocked the door, practically shoving Josuke inside as you followed, shutting the door behind you and draining out the sloshing of the rain.  You were both breathless, but nevertheless, as you offered his coat back to him, you couldn’t help but smile.  “Well, that’s one way to start break.”

“Wouldn���t change it for the world.  Except, you know, the sudden torrential downpour part.”

[mxsinistir]

Secret Family (Mycroft x Wife! Reader)

A/N: I have had no inspiration lately haha so I haven’t written anything recently, especially not for the Sherlock fandom. I still love the fandom but I can’t seem to get any creativity for it? Yeah so hopefully my portrayal of Mycroft is still decent. 

Requested by: @lotusbreathe

Summary: The wife of Mycroft Holmes, the mother of his children - such a shame she had to die so young, isn’t it? I hear he didn’t even cry at her funeral. Almost as if he knew better.

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count: 1,387

          Name Surname Holmes  

         1979 - 2008

         Sister, Daughter, Lover 

Mycroft made a habit of walking by your grave every once and a while. Just to take out his handkerchief and dab his eyes (Which were watering profusely, thanks only to the allergies). He’d glance around to see if anyone had watched the British Government show emotion - usually, there was no one paying attention, meaning it was just a few wasted minutes.

When this happened, he would wait until he solemnly got back into the car to complain about the inconvenience to Anthea, who just laughed and drove away from the cemetery, asking if she should buy flowers for their next trip. He’d shrug and think about it, though ultimately his visits were too spur-of-the-moment to order flowers for. Except for the holidays - he’d lay a bouquet of white roses over your frankly, bland headstone come Christmas and your birthday.

Anthea would have a second bouquet in the car. A much more expensive, beautiful one. Those were the ones he would actually take to you. 

“Good night, sir.” Said Anthea, sliding the limousine into neutral as they entered Mycroft’s driveway.

“Won’t you come inside?” A velvety voice said, approaching their car. With your hands in your sundress pockets, you casually laid an arm over the open car door. 

“You shouldn’t be out here!” Mycroft hissed. You ignored him, keeping your sweet smile and focus on Anthea. Mycroft’s Chief of Staff just smiled. (Do they have CoS’s in Parliament? They do now.)

“I should get home.” Anthea insisted. She knew how much Mycroft treasured his time away from work with you. She would never want to impose on that. 

“Nonsense, park the car and have dinner with us. You look too thin.” You smirked before looking up at Mycroft. “You can have this one’s portion.” You joked, walking inside a few steps of your husband as Anthea stayed behind to pull the car into the garage.

“You shouldn’t be outside,” Mycroft said again once the door was shut. You rolled your eyes.

“Mycroft, I’m wearing contacts, I dyed my hair, I-”

“Moriarty has facial recognition built into his cameras, you know.” Your husband insisted again, holding his face in his hands, now red with frustration. 

“Does it look like I care?” Your voice broke, throwing your arm in between you two, displaying the pale underside of your forearm. “That’s the first time I’ve been in the sun in a year! I’m deficient in Vitamin D! Do you even know how many supplements I’ve been taking?” 

“It’s necessary-”

“I’m not worried about me. I can handle it.” Mycroft paused, watching your eyes and realizing that he had mistaken your expression for one of self-pity. When, in fact, he should have known that it was empathy instead. “They’re four years old, Myc. Are you expecting to look them up for their entire lives? It’s not fair to do that to them too.”

“Moriarty is a threat to them too-”

“Then maybe you need to focus on apprehending Moriarty faster.” You spat, “Because our children will not be raised like-” You stammered for a comparison. “They will not be raised in some secret basement, alright? They won’t be hidden from the world.”

“God knows it runs in my family.” “Mycroft, you know that is not what I meant at all.” You grabbed one of his hands with both of yours, kissing his knuckles. “But they’re in isolation right now. They have no interaction with anyone but you and I. Sometimes Anthea. What if they turn out like her because of that?” 

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft said after a few seconds.

“I could take them” Anthea had entered without either of the Holmes realizing it. Their eyes went wide, and their heads whipped around to Mycroft’s assistant, who just raised her hands in surrender. “I don’t mean permanently. But when they start school next month, I-”

“Are you saying you could pass off as their parents?”

“It was a stupid idea,” Anthea sighed, “I’m not their mother, but-”

“Well, you are their godmother.” It had been unofficial. “You could say you found them and took them in. Dead mother, abandoned by their father.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mycroft interjected.

“Oh, stop taking it personally.” You chided before turning back to Anthea. “You have no idea how much it would mean to me. You’d just be driving them back and forth, mostly, but...” 

“Anything, Mrs. Holmes.”

“(Name), Anthea, we’ve been over this.” You said blissfully, “You’re about to be the mother of my children, you know. You can call me my first name.”

The three of you put a simple dinner over the stove before you dismissed yourself, jogging downstairs into the secure and secretive basement of the Holmes House. 

Ted, the first one of the twins, was at least still half asleep. He was never an issue. Andrew, on the contrary, was practically climbing the walls. It was an adorable sight, but it only disheartened you more. Such an adventurous child should have been able to know that there was something beyond those walls.

“Hey guys, Daddy and Auntie Anthea are both here for dinner.”  You kissed them both on the head and helped them up to the winding staircase, of course having to trouble yourself with all the over-the-top procedures and checkpoints that Mycroft had built in. The poor brothers had no idea how out of the ordinary their security was. 

“Andy, Ted - you remember Anthea.” They both smiled and hugged her legs, to your delight. “Well, whenever you start school you’re going to be seeing her more.”

“Is she one of our teachers?” Ted didn’t speak like a toddler at all. Neither did Andrew, for that matter. They’d been exposed to Government speeches and eloquent words throughout their development. 

“Nope, she’s kind of going to be your mom.” “Are you leaving us?” Andy looked up cynically. 

“Mommy can’t go outside with you.” Mycroft was the one to step in, surprisingly. “I know it’s disheartening, but you’ll understand when you’re older.” He set down both boys at the table. You all ate like a family, for just a small window of time. Mycroft stood up, you trailing him - obviously, the normalcy didn’t last all that long.

“This is abuse, Myc.” Strong words, but what else could this be? “They’re caged by their parents, and so am I!”

“God, I have been nothing but good to you.” Mycroft snapped with you. “I am trying, (name), but this is the only way I can keep you and the boys safe.”

“By locking us up and isolating us like we’re on Sherrinford?”

“Jesus, if that’s what it takes, then yes!” Mycroft said shrilly, running his hands through his dark, glossy hairline as silence enveloped the space. “I know it’s hard. I know you must hate this. You must hate me.” “I could never hate you,” You whispered. “But I do hate him.”

“Sherlock will find Moriarty and bring him to justice.” 

Sure enough, he did. He paid the same price as you had, however . . . Sherlock Holmes had lost his life, according to the official records. A stunning conclusion to the epic story of the consultant detective and criminal. 

But Moriarty was dead. As selfish as it was, it was all you cared about. You heard the news from Mycroft over the phone and didn’t waste time asking for permission. You ran into the driveway and drank up the sunlight, streaming from above and casting golden rays over your skin. If not for your heartbeat, you would have been sleeping in it its heat.

You laid there - in the driveway - laughing and smiling and staring up at the crystal sky until your husband came home. The first event you visited once Mycroft had announced that you were, in fact, alive, was Sherlock’s “Funeral”. You wore black and tried not to smile at the irony of standing over a convincing casket. 

The event after that was kindergarten graduation. Andy’s and Ted’s, to be more specific. You, Anthea, and Mycroft had all gone. It had been a surprise for the twins. Mycroft had tried to convince you to stay out of sight, but not even the British Government could keep you from sharing the moment with your secret sons. 

And on that note, neither could the Consultant Criminal. 

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm Interlude 1 - In which we talk about “descendants” and “progenitors”

Huh? Interlude 1? What is this, some sort of bonus between sagas? Hmmm.

“We don’t know how long he had been there.  Suspended in the air above the Atlantic Ocean.  On May twentieth, 1982, an ocean liner was crossing from Plymouth to Boston when a passenger spotted him.  He was naked, his arms to his sides, his long hair blowing in the wind as he stood in the sky, nearly a hundred feet above the gently cresting waves.  His skin and hair can only be described as a burnished gold.  With neither body hair nor clothes to cover him, it is said, he seemed almost artificial.

Oooh is this like backstory?? On the world itself?? This is all the way back to 1982!! It sounds like a documentary of important events of the past! Is this what the interludes are going to be? Lore bombs?. I’m game for that : D

So floating in the middle of the ocean was a man with long hair, no clothes, and his skin with the apearance of gold. That makes for an incredible mental image. Holy shit powers are awesome

He’s giving me strong Dr Manhattan vibes, but this one has hair and is yellow instead of blue.

“After a discussion including passenger and crew, the liner detoured to get closer.  It was a sunny day, and passengers crowded to the railings to get a better look.  As if sharing their curiosity, the figure drew closer as well.  His expression was unchanging, but witnesses at the scene reported that he appeared deeply sad.

People getting closer to something that could be dangerous to record it and/or touch it is such a staple of humanity. That would 100% happen in our world

He looks deeply sad....Maybe it’s because of the Manhattan vibes, but this screams deep, profound loneliness to me. Or detachment from the world. Where did this golden man even come from? He was suddently spotted one day all radiant and sorrowfull...

“‘I thought he was going to crack his facade and cry any moment’, said Grace Lands, ‘But when I reached out and touched his fingertips, I was the one who burst into tears.’

Damn, they make him sound majestic. Holy shit.

Also this is totally a documentary! I love the format of this.

“‘That boat trip was a final journey for me.  I had cancer, and I wasn’t brave enough to face it.  Can’t believe I’m admitting this in front of a camera, but I was going back to Boston, where I was born, to end things myself.  After I met him, I changed my mind.  Didn’t matter anyways.  I went to a doctor, and he said there was no sign I ever had the disease.’

!!!!!

The golden man can cure cancer! Is his power omni-healing? A universal cure? He basically did a miracle there!

He has this amazing healing power and was just floating idly over the sea... He still gives me massive Manhattan vibes..

“‘My brother, Andrew Hawke, was the last passenger to make any sort of contact with him, I remember.  He climbed up onto the railing, and, almost falling off, he clasped the hand of the golden man.  The rest of us had to grab onto him to keep him from falling.  Whatever happened left him with a quiet awe.  When the man with the golden skin flew away, my brother stayed silent.  The rest of the way to Boston, my brother didn’t say a word.  When we docked, and the spell finally broke, my brother babbled his excitement to reporters like a child.’

Were superheroes less common at that time? I mean, golden man here still seems amazing even with that we have seen, but they are acting like it happened in our world!

“The golden man would reappear several more times in the coming months and years.  At some point, he donned clothing.  At first, a sheet worn over one shoulder and pinned at either side of the waist, then more conventional clothes.  In 1999, he donned the white bodysuit he still wears today.  For more than a decade, we have wondered, where did our golden man get these things?  Who was he in contact with?

So he has a contact! Who gives him clothes and maybe equipment? And no one in the world knows? He seems as much a mystery to them as to us!

“Periodically at first, then with an increasing frequency, the golden man started to intervene in times of crisis.  For events as small as a car accident, as great as natural disasters, he has arrived and used his abilities to save us.  A flash of light to freeze water reinforcing a levee stressed by a hurricane.  A terrorist act averted.  A serial murderer caught.  A volcano quelled.  Miracles, it was said.

H-Holy shit.

This makes Lung seem like nothing. What is even his power??

Curing diseases, freezing water, calming volcanoes....He performs actual miracles! Is his power just... all the powers??? Or a power that does everything???

How high in the hierarchy is this guy??

“His pace increased, perhaps because he was still learning what he could do, perhaps because he was getting a greater sense of where he was needed.  By the middle of the 1990s, he was traveling from crisis to crisis, flying faster than the speed of sound.  In fifteen years, he has not rested.

Oh my god....

He has been saving people and doing good deeds for over fifteen years, EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF EVERY DAY.

Holy fucking shit.

Is this the #1 hero?? The “All Might” of this world?? But this....this is even more insane. He’s like the ultimate good!

“He has been known to speak just once in thirty years.  After extinguishing widespread fire in Alexandrovsk, he paused to survey the scene and be sure no blazes remained.  A reporter spoke to him, and asked, ‘Kto vy?’ – what are you?

“Shocking the world, caught on camera in a scene replayed innumerable times, he answered in a voice that sounded as though it might never have uttered a sound before.  Barely audible, he told her, ‘Scion’.

!!!!!!

This is giving me all of the chills, ever.

Scion

Descendant?? What does that even mean?? Why are you so mysterious and amazing at the same time, golden man????

“It became the name we used for him.  Ironic, because we took a word that meant descendant, and used it to name the first of many superpowered individuals – parahumans – to appear across Earth.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAIT HOLD THE FUCK UP

He’s just not the best, he’s the first!!!!

The first superhero ever!!!!

Oh my god, he’s superman! Both in meta and in-story!!

Godly do-everything powers, ultimate good, first ever superhero....

He’s the man of tomorrow!!! But without like the secret identity part. This is who Superman would be if he never stopped saving people, ever. If he was a hero all the time!!

THIS IS SO COOL.

“Just five years after Scion’s first appearance, the superheroes emerged from the cover of rumor and secrecy to show themselves to the public. Though the villains followed soon after, it was the heroes who shattered any illusions of the parahumans being divine figures.  In 1989, attempting to quell a riot over a basketball game in Michigan, the superhero known to the public as Vikare stepped in, only to be clubbed over the head.  He died not long after of a brain embolism.  Later, he would be revealed to be Andrew Hawke.

WAIT AND NOW YOU DROP THIS ON ME.

One of the first superheroes was the man who touched him at the boat!!! Did he give him his power??? DId touching him grant him powers??? What???

But then what about all the other people who got powers afterwards??. I’m sure he wasn’t there for them all??? WHAT IS GOING ON?? Was that just a coincidence??

“The golden age of the parahumans was thus short lived.  They were not the deific figures they had appeared to be.  Parahumans were, after all, people with powers, and people are flawed at their core.  Government agencies took a firmer hand, and state-”

Can I just say that I fucking love how despite all their powers and grace, parahumans are just human, with all their virtues and flaws, and it was this that made people realize that they were not gods, just men?? That one of the superheroes of the golden age died from a simple hit to the head??

God, this is so great.

The television flicked off, and the screen went black, cutting the documentary off mid sentence.  Danny Hebert sighed and sat down on the bed, only to stand just a moment later and resume pacing.

It was three fifteen in the morning, and his daughter Taylor was not in her bedroom.

WHAT. It was indeed a documentary! A documentary that Taylor’s dad was watching! While waiting for his daughter to come home (and her being presumably dealing with the fire demon situation)

What a way to link this to the main story

For the twentieth time, he felt the urge to ask his wife for help, for advice, for support.  But her side of the bed was empty and it had been for some time.  Daily, it seemed, he was struck by the urge to call her cell phone.  He knew it was stupid – she wouldn’t pick up – and if he dwelt on that for too long, he became angry at her, which just made him feel worse.

Oh so Taylor doesn’t have a mom? ):

Poor Taylor and poor Danny... He seems to have regrets... I would say they broke up but the “she wouldn’t pick up” line makes me think she’s dead..

He wondered, even as he knew the answer, why he hadn’t gotten Taylor a cell phone.  Danny didn’t know what his daughter was doing, what would drive her to go out at night.  She wasn’t the type.  He could tell himself that most fathers felt that way about their daughters, but at the same time, he knew.  Taylor wasn’t social.  She didn’t go to parties, she wouldn’t drink, she wasn’t even that interested in champagne when they celebrated the New Year together.

Hmm, Taylor doesn’t have a cellphone? Danny seems to have an issue with them..

Also damn. Taylor did this to free herself from her troubles and start her dreams but didn’t account for how she would make his father feel.... Probably didn’t even think on the possibility that he would wake up and she wouldn’t be there.

Two ominous possibilities kept nagging at him, both too believable.  The first was that Taylor had gone out for fresh air, or even for a run. She wasn’t happy, especially at school, he knew, and exercise was her way of working through it.  He could see her doing it on a Sunday night, with a fresh week at school looming.  He liked that her running made her feel better about herself, that she seemed to be doing it in a reasonable, healthy way. He just hated that she had to do it here, in this neighborhood.  Because here, a skinny girl in her mid-teens was an easy target for attack.  A mugging or worse – he couldn’t even articulate the worst of the possibilities in his own thoughts without feeling physically sick.  If she had gone out at eleven in the evening for a run and hadn’t come back by three in the morning, then it meant something had happened.

Damn, I feel the adult fear Danny is expierencing. Having a daughter to take care of, worring about horrible things happening to her, about her general happiness ...

This is very well written.

He glanced out the window again, at that corner of the house where the pool of illumination beneath the streetlight would let him see her approaching.  Nothing. 

Checking out over and over again to see if she has come back, knowing that each time you look and it isn’t so, it is yet another weight of worry over your weary shoulders....

The second possibility wasn’t much better.  He knew Taylor was being bullied.  Danny had found that out in January, when his little girl had been pulled out of school and taken to the hospital.  Not the emergency room, but the psychiatric ward.  She wouldn’t say by whom, but under the influence of the drugs they had given her to calm down, she had admitted she was being victimized by bullies, using the plural to give him a clue that it was a they and not a he or a she.  She hadn’t mentioned it – the incident or the bullying – since.  If he pushed, she only tensed up and grew more withdrawn.  He had resigned himself to letting her reveal the details in her own time, but months had passed without any hints or clues being offered.

Oh god, they bullied her so bad she went to the phychiatric ward??? What the hell!??

Oh my god those three fucking monsters. And Danny has been tormenting himself over all this since! Wanting to help but not wanting to intrude in such personal matters...

There was precious little Danny could do on the subject, either.  He had threatened to sue the school after his daughter had been taken to the hospital, and the school board had responded by settling, paying her hospital bills and promising they would look out for her to prevent such events from occurring in the future. It was a feeble promise made by a chronically overworked staff and it didn’t do a thing to ease his worries.  His efforts to have her change schools had been stubbornly countered with rules and regulations about the maximum travel times a student was allowed to have between home and a given school.  The only other school within a reasonable distance of Taylor’s place of residence was Arcadia High, and it was already desperately overcrowded with more than two hundred students on a list requesting admittance.

Ugh schools being so useless is also very realistic, sadly....

It sucks and everyone refuses to help.

With all that in mind, when his daughter disappeared until the middle of the night, he couldn’t shake the idea that the bullies might have lured her out with blackmail, threats or empty promises.  He only knew about the one incident, the one that had landed her in the hospital, but it had been grotesque.  It had been implied, but never elaborated on, that more had been going on.  He could imagine these boys or girls that were tormenting his daughter, egging one another on as they came up with more creative ways to humiliate or harm her.  Taylor hadn’t said as much aloud, but whatever had been going on had been mean, persistent and threatening enough that Emma, Taylor’s closest friend for years, had stopped spending time with her.  It galled him.

Aaaaaa, if you only knew!!! This is so sadly ironic, Emma’s got more to do with this than you are even aware of...

And what the hell did they do that time???

Impotent.  Danny was helpless where it counted.  There was no action he could take – his one call to the police at two in the morning had only earned him a tired explanation that the police couldn’t act or look for her without something more to go on.  If his daughter was still gone after twelve hours, he’d been told, he should call them again.  All he could do was wait and pray with his heart in his throat that the phone wouldn’t ring, a police officer or nurse on the other end ready to tell him what had happened to his daughter.

Ugh, what he is living though is just... awful.

He’s completely helpless to her daughter when she might be in need (or at least that’s what he thinks) and he’s waiting for a phone call telling him that something terrible has happened, and for his life to stop making sense.

Fuck

The slightest of vibrations in the house marked the escape of the warm air in the house to the cold outdoors, and there was a muffled whoosh as the kitchen door shut again.  Danny Hebert felt a thrill of relief coupled with abject fear.  If he went downstairs to find his daughter, would he find her hurting or hurt?  Or would his presence make things worse, her own father seeing her at her most vulnerable after humiliation at the hands of bullies?  She had told him, in every way except articulating it aloud, that she didn’t want that.  She had pleaded with him, with body language and averted eye contact, unfinished sentences and things left unsaid, not to ask, not to push, not to see, when it came to the bullying.  He couldn’t say why, exactly.  Home was an escape from that, he’d suspected, and if he recognized the bullying, made it a reality here, maybe she wouldn’t have that relief from it. Perhaps it was shame, that his daughter didn’t want him to see her like that, didn’t want to be that weak in front of him.  He really hoped that wasn’t the case.

Oh Taylor has returned after the Armsmaster talk!! Yess

And now Danny doesn’t know if to approach her for if he sees her in her weakest moment, he thinks it would break his daughter even more

Damn being Danny is suffering, at least today! Worse thing is, Taylor must be feeling realtively happy after being owed a favour by a famous hero and helping stop a villain...

So he ran his fingers through his hair once more and sat down on the corner of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands on his head, and stared at his closed bedroom door.  His ears were peeled for the slightest clue. The house was old, and it hadn’t been a high quality building when it had been new, so the walls were thin and the structure prone to making noise at every opportunity.  There was the faintest sound of a door closing downstairs.  The bathroom?  It wouldn’t be the basement door, with no reason for her to go down there, and he couldn’t imagine it was a closet, because after two or three minutes, the same door opened and closed again.

It was probably the basement, to hide her costume again.

After something banged on the kitchen counter, there was little but the occasional groan of floorboards.  Five or ten minutes after she had come in, there was the rhythmic creak of the stairs as she ascended. Danny thought about clearing his throat to let her know he was awake and available should she knock on his door, but decided against it.  He was being cowardly, he thought, as if his clearing of his throat would give reality to his fears.

Her door shut carefully, almost inaudibly, with the slightest tap of door on doorframe.  Danny stood, abruptly, opening his door, ready to cross the hall and knock on her door.  To verify that his daughter was okay.

Aaaaaa this hurts! If only you could talk to each other! The worse part is I know Taylor would be distressed if Danny tried to talk with her! She would worry about her cover being blown, about having to explain herself or even just about making her father worry!

He was stopped by the smell of jam and toast.  She had made a late night snack.  It filled him with relief.  He couldn’t imagine his daughter, after being mugged, tormented or humiliated, coming home to have toast with jam as a snack.  Taylor was okay, or at least, okay enough to be left alone.

He let out a shuddering sigh of relief and retreated to his room to sit on the bed.

Yes!! At least now he has some proof that things are somewhat ok : D

Relief became anger.  He was angry at Taylor, for making him worry, and then not even going out of her way to let him know she was okay.  He felt a smouldering resentment towards the city, for having neighborhoods and people he couldn’t trust his daughter to.  He hated the bullies that preyed on his daughter.  Underlying it all was frustration with himself.  Danny Hebert was the one person he could control in all of this, and Danny Hebert had failed to do anything that mattered.  He hadn’t gotten answers, hadn’t stopped the bullies, hadn’t protected his daughter.  Worst of all was the idea that this might have happened before, with him simply sleeping through it rather than laying awake.

Damn, this still hurts.

Danny you are a good father, you worry about your daughter so much. Don’t hate yourself for feeling useless. It’s a bad situation overall.

He stopped himself from walking into his daughter’s room, from shouting at her and demanding answers, even if it was what he wanted, more than anything.  Where had she been, what had she been doing?  Was she hurt? Who were these people that were tormenting her?  He knew that by confronting her and getting angry at her, he would do more harm than good, would threaten to sever any bond of trust they had forged between them.

He wants to be more of a father, to demand answers and try to protect her, to see if she’s doing something self-destructive or dangerous, but he’s afraid that he’ll lose her if he does that. That their bond will be irreparably damaged...

Danny’s father had been a powerful, heavyset man, and Danny hadn’t gotten any of those genes.  Danny had been a nerd when the term was still young in popular culture, stick thin, awkward, short sighted, glasses, bad fashion sense.  What he had inherited was his father’s famous temper.  It was quick to rise and startling in its intensity.   Unlike his father, Danny had only ever hit someone in anger twice, both times when he was much younger.  That said, just like his father, he could and would go off on tirades that would leave people shaking.   Danny had long viewed the moment he’d started to see himself as a man, an adult, to be the point in time where he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t ever lose his temper with his family.  He wouldn’t pass that on to his child the way his father had to him.

“Unlike his father”... Oh

Oh no.

Danny you are not him, you are better than him. You seem like a wonderful man!

Seems Taylor inherited her tall, thin physique from him.

He had never broken that oath with Taylor, and knowing that was what kept him contained in his room, pacing back and forth, red in the face and wanting to punch something.  While he’d never gotten angry at her, never screamed at her, he knew Taylor had seen him angry.  Once, he had been at work, talking to a mayor’s aide.  The man had told Danny that the revival projects for the Docks were being cancelled and that, contrary to promises, there were to be layoffs rather than new jobs for the already beleaguered Dockworkers.  Taylor had been spending the morning in his office on the promise that they would go out for the afternoon, and had been in a position to see him fly off the handle in the worst way with the man.  Four years ago, he had lost his temper with Annette for the first time, breaking his oath to himself.  That had been the last time he had seen her.  Taylor hadn’t been there to see him shouting at her mother, but he was fairly certain she’d heard some of it.  It shamed him.

This makes it seem like they broke up. but.. if she really is dead... what a final conversation to have, angry with each other. No wonder he seems to have a lot of regrets with all of that. And with Taylor seeing him like he saw his father as well...

The third and last time that he had lost his temper where Taylor had been in a position to know had been when she had been hospitalized following the incident in January.  He’d screamed at the school’s principal, who had deserved it, and at Taylor’s then-Biology teacher, who probably hadn’t.  It had been bad enough that a nurse had threatened to call for a police officer, and Danny, barely mollified, had stomped from the hallway to the hospital room to find his daughter more or less conscious and wide eyed in reaction.  Danny harbored a deep fear that the reason Taylor hadn’t offered any details on the bullying was out of fear he would, in blind rage, do something about it.  It made him feel sick, the notion that he might have contributed something to his daughter’s self imposed isolation in how she was dealing with her problems.

He’s probably right about that, that Taylor doesn’t want his father involved...

January seemed a horrific month for them both.

It took Danny a long time to calm down, helped by telling himself over and over that Taylor was okay, that she was home, that she was safe.  It was something of a blessing that, as the anger faded, he felt drained.  He climbed into the left side of the bed, leaving the right side empty out of a habit he’d yet to break, and pulled the covers up around himself.

He would talk to Taylor in the morning.  Get an answer of some sort.

The space he leaves for Taylor’s mom   )):

Things will be better in the morning, sleep it off for now...

Also I wonder how Taylor will explain herself. Maybe she’s thinking about that.

He dreamed of the ocean.

We started this chapter with the ocean, and we seem to end on it, how poetic.

One ocean the scenery for a sight that would change the world forever, and the other a moment of peace in a storm of anxiety.

This interlude was incredibly good.

[squirrelly831]

He Cheats [Baekhyun and Chanyeol]

Obviously angst. As always, links are at the bottom. 

Enjoy~

Baekhyun

Lily always thought she was doomed to heartbreak and betrayal until she met Baekhyun. There wasn’t a single relationship that didn’t turn sour on her. She always thought it was just a curse as her mother and her mother’s mother were in and out of relationships faster than a track star on steroids. However, when bubbly, quick to smile, angelic school boy to the ultimate sex God, Baekhyun entered her life, she felt something different.

Baekhyun wasn’t like her usual. Her leather wearing, motorcycle gang looking thug who had the aura of a dead man’s life on his hand. Baekhyun was different. He radiated with a light as sweet as candy. He was the one who would hold open doors or help her out of a car. The one who had his woman at his side or in front of him but never behind him. He was the one who showed off his girlfriend, not as a trophy he won, but as a queen who gave him, a lowly servant, a shot.

He was perfect. She felt loved. Appreciated. Wanted. At least at the beginning.

The first year was sheer bliss, until the day Baekhyun returned from tour bitter and pissed. He accused her of cheating while he was away. He accused her of saying she loved him to his face while she slept around with her childhood friend, Jose. The accusation of false to say the least, but that didn’t mean he let up on the suspicion. The arguments only intensified and the tension between them grew.

Until one day, tired of the fights, Lily left their shared apartment and went to Jose’s. He greeted her with open arms as she cried. He lead her inside as she explained what happened. Jose cradled her in his arms as she spoke with a heavy heart.

Once she finished, Jose combed his hand through her hair, “Lily, do you think that he may be cheating on you?” Lily let out a shaky breath and shook her head in denial. “I’m just saying, someone who accuses their significant other of cheating when they have no evidence is usually the cheater.” Lily didn’t reply though Jose didn’t need a reply. He knew the look that was etched on her face. Though she shook her head, it was obvious that her gears began to turn as she thought of Baekhyun.

Lily stayed at Jose’s home for two days before she worked up the courage to go home. She had to get clothes for work the following day. She received no messages from Baekhyun. No calls of concern or wish for her return which made her reevaluate their relationship and with a heavy heart, she decided to end it.

Jose didn’t want her to go home alone, but Lily was adamant. She needed to face the problem on her own. She unlocked the front door and was greeted by heavy pants and shrill fake moans. At first, it sounded like a bad porno that he was into, but to her horror, she discovered it was no porno. “WHAT THE FUCK!”

The naked girl jumped off him as Baekhyun stared at Lily with his jaw dropped, “Jagiya…”

She shook her head as she went to the bedroom to get a suitcase. She began throwing clothes in as her anger grew. She stormed out into the hall to see the girl hightail it out of the apartment and Baekhyun fixed his clothes. “You accused me of cheating like I’m some lying whore” she snapped her fingers and flicked her wrist. She was livid. “You sat there” she flicked her wrist as she pointed to the spot Baekhyun had previously occupied, “Right where that bitch rode you and accused me of cheating. You” her finger pointed up and down his body, “have lost your damn mind.” She went back to the bedroom and continued to throw her clothes in the suitcase. Baekhyun trailed inside like a lost puppy. Lily didn’t get angry, but at that moment she just snapped. She let out a laugh and leaned over the suitcase, “How long?”

“Babe—”

She pushed the lamp off the nightstand by her and it shattered, “HOW FUCKING LONG?”

Baekhyun looked away and swallowed hard, “Two months…” Lily clicked her teeth as she zipped her bag, headed out the room, and shoved him as hard as she could with her shoulder as she passed. Baekhyun watched her leave. He couldn’t cry as he felt his heart being ripped to shred. No one else was at fault but him. He fucked up the best thing in his life and he knew he couldn’t fix it.

Lily managed a straight face all the way to her car. Once she was safe in the confines of the car, she screamed and beat the steering wheel. She cursed in Spanish and Korean as she let out all her pent of heartbreak. With her head on the steering wheel, she sobbed. The pain was unbearable.

Chanyeol

Hailey’s relationship with Chanyeol was perfect. Sweethearts since Hailey entered college, four and a half years together. It was picturesque to say the least. Fans knew, the families knew, everyone knew and waited for the day they would finally reveal they were engaged. Hell, Hailey waited for him to pop the question. She only saw him in her future beside her, no other man could take that spot.  

And maybe, that was why Chanyeol did what he did. The relationship was too perfect and the love for him was invincible. Sure they argued, but they were able to hash it out and squash it most of the time. That didn’t make their relationship weak, but stronger as they built a communication bridge.

However, that bridge weaved and twisted when SM got a new girl trainee. At first, there was nothing, but once she began to focus on rap, Chanyeol agreed to help her when he could. She shared something with him than Hailey didn’t. Their love of music. Hailey loved to support Chanyeol. She was just a fan, not a musician like Chanyeol.

At the beginning, Chanyeol sparsely spent any time helping the new trainee, but eventually he began spending more than just a few hours with her. He didn’t know when it happened, but he knew he began to fall for the girl. However, it was a crush and nothing compared to his feelings for Hailey.

Hailey was the first to notice the shift of the relationship before even Chanyeol did. So many late nights when his group wasn’t preparing for anything major, the smell of perfume that wasn’t hers, and she could no longer touch his phone like she used to when she wanted to take selfies for him. She didn’t want to suspect him of anything, but after a run in with the trainee Hailey knew something between the two. The way his eyes lit up and how his subtle flirts went unnoticed by him, but not the trainee or Hailey. But she didn’t want to be that girlfriend.

It was Jongin who ultimately discovered Chanyeol’s secret after a late night at the dance studio. Jongin stumbled upon the trainee straddling Chanyeol in a provacodative manner before she leaned in and kissed him. Jongin wasn’t going to tell Hailey if Chanyeol pushed the trainee away. Though, when he saw Chanyeol’s hands lace through the girl’s hair and around her waist, Jongin took photographic evidence and relayed it to Hailey.

The pictures told a story she wished didn’t come true. Her world shattered as she ended their relationship the same night he came home after his randevu. She could forgive a lot of things, but cheating wasn’t one of those. She wouldn’t be like her mother who took in her cheating husband.

The moment it ended, Chanyeol felt empty. Suddenly the trainee wasn’t as attractive as he found her. He didn’t want her. He wanted Hailey, but she had nothing to do with him.

It had been a year since the break up, Hailey began to pick up her life again with the help of her friends, especially Jongin. He never left her side as she broke and screamed or got drunk and curse. He was there through it all which only lead them down the path of dating. When Chanyeol caught wind of the relationship, he was devastated. He was still in love with Hailey. It killed him to see the smiles and ‘I love you’ exchanges between his friend and ex. If only he had stayed faithful to her, he knew he would have had it all.

It had been two years since the break up and you began seeing his bandmate and your best friend, Jongin. Chanyeol was devastated when he found out you were dating Jongin. Seeing you with Jongin killed him. All Chanyeol could think about is how that could have been y’all happy and loving if he had stayed faithful to you.

Part I || Part III

Credit to gif owners

Written & revamped by Squirrelly831

♕ REQUEST

☮ EXO MASTERLIST

∞ ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

[p-artsypants]

Sing We All Noel

After receiving the worst Christmas present ever from his father, Chat Noir finds himself out on the streets with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, Ladybug finds him and brings him home.

For @splitting-infinities, because she did a really cute Christmas oneshot too!

Links in Reblog.

I wanted to write a Christmas story, but I was busy before Christmas, so it’s a little late.

Also, my family is German, so our traditions might be different from others? But I tried to do research on French Christmas traditions. This is my stab at it. Some angst, some fluff. All cute! Hope you enjoy, and hope you all had a merry merry Christmas! (Or whatever holiday you celebrate.)

—

Adrien hated Christmas. Last year wasn’t that bad, since he had gotten to have a loving Christmas dinner with his friends, but the Akuma attack and everything before that wasn’t great.

This year, however, topped them all.

Gabriel had said, with a big grin, that he had an amazing present for his son this Christmas. That was surprising since he was sure Nathalie usually went shopping for him.

But the present wasn’t so amazing as it was horrifying. Gabriel had led him into his office, and down a secret passage, where he found his mother in suspended animation. Apparently, now that Adrien was old enough, he was allowed to join his father’s side in the fight against Ladybug and Chat Noir, as Hawkmoth’s right hand man.

Everything after that was a blur. There was some shouting, some begging, fists thrown, but he ultimately tore out of the room, threw some items in a duffel bag, and leapt into the night.

Now here he sat; sad, cold, and alone on a rooftop in Paris on Christmas Eve.

He glanced at his baton. It wasn’t even 5 o’clock yet. Most folks probably hadn’t even eaten dinner.

And neither had Adrien, he remembered painfully as his stomach growled.

It all had to happen on Christmas Eve. Any other day, he’d ask to stay with Nino and then go find his Lady, but Nino was gone to Cannes, to see family, and Ladybug was not likely to be transformed.

Not that he wanted to bother anyone with news like this. It was just...too awful.

His face throbbed from one of Gabriel’s hits. A father wasn’t supposed to punch his son in the face, not over something like begging him to stop being a super villain. Though, a good father wouldn’t be a super villain in the first place.

So what was poor Adrien to do? All alone in the snow? He cried. His hot tears being the only warmth on his wind bitten cheeks. Everything hurt. His ears, his face, his chest and his heart. It all hurt.

His life was over. His father was Hawkmoth, and even Christmas would be forever ruined to him.

There was a crunch in the snow behind him. “Chat?”

He panicked, swiveling over to look at his Lady. “Oh! Ladybug!” He sniffed, wiping his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” she answered, coming closer. “I had a...last minute delivery to make, as my civilian self, but I figured Ladybug could get there a few minutes faster.”

“O-oh, right. You’re so clever.”

She smiled softly. “And you, kitty?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. Of course it was important to tell her about Hawkmoth, but it wasn’t fair. He’d tell her in a few days, but she probably had a family she should spend time with. He would give anything for that.

“Chat, what’s wrong?” Her hand reached up and scratched just behind his ear, and he melted. His shoulders slumped and the tears fell like a faucet.

“Oh kitty...” she whispered, pulling him into a hug. That’s when she noticed the duffel bag in his lap. “What happened?”

“My-My father is insane!” He sobbed. “He’s—I’m so sorry my lady...”

She hushed him, petting his hair. “You don’t need to apologize about anything, Chat. I’m your friend and your partner. I’m here for you.”

“My Lady...” he whined. “He’s Hawkmoth...my father is Hawkmoth. That was his Christmas present to me!”

She gasped, crushing him into her chest. “I’m so sorry...”

“I-I didn’t know what to do! I tried to reason with him, but he hit me—“

He felt her hands clamp down on his shoulders, as she pushed him away slightly. Anger scrawled all over her face. “He did what?”

“He...he punched me in the eye...it’s not the first time he’s hit me...but I just...grabbed what I could and bolted.”

“Does he know you’re Chat Noir?”

“I...don’t think so? He said he wanted my help getting our Miraculous, but he never directly asked me for mine.” He gasped through his sobs, “I-I know we need to take him down—“

“You’re right. We do. But not now. You are a wreck and...we just can’t right now.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Stop apologizing! This is not your fault! In fact, I’m glad you told me instead of suffering in silence!”

He shrugged miserably, giving away that that had been his plan.

“Do you have somewhere to go? A friend or family to stay with?”

He choked another sob and covered his face. “My best friend, other than you, is out of town for a week. I...I don’t know where else to go!” At this, a fresh round of sobs started up, as his shoulders heaved.

“Then you’ll stay with me and my family.”

“What?” He glanced up, eyes wide.

“You’re staying with me.”

“Oh no! I couldn’t! Please my lady, don’t worry about me...”

“Chat, you must be insane or stupid to even think that I would let my best friend sleep on the streets on Christmas Eve!”

“B-But I don’t want to ruin your Christmas!”

“Nonsense! Having you around will make my Christmas twenty times more fun! My family is all kinds of obnoxious, so it’ll be nice to have someone else around for them to dote on.”

He was quiet, thinking.

“Please kitty? It would ruin my Christmas if I had to keep imagining you out here, all alone and crying.” She made her point by swiping her thumb under his eye.

“Are you really sure it’s okay?”

“Yes!” She said, exasperated.

“...but, we’ll have to share identities, unless you just invite Chat Noir over…”

She smiled. “While that would be funny, I think we need to reveal ourselves. I want to introduce my best friend to my family, and I need to know Hawkmoth’s identity.”

“I…guess you’re right…”  He glanced around. “But we should probably get off this roof first.”

She snickered. “Good idea.”

They both lowered down into an alleyway, only a block away from the bakery.

Chat scratched the back of his neck. “I’m…kind of nervous.”

“Me too.” Ladybug agreed. She reached out her hands to hold his. “Let’s do it together, okay?”

He nodded, biting his lip.

“Spots off.”

“Claws in.”

In a flash, the superheroes were gone, and two classmates stood awkwardly staring at each other.

“Marinette?” He breathed.

“…oh Adrien…” She reached her hand up to touch his cheek, her gaze riveted to his black eye. Tears sprang up as she pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Likewise, Adrien wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. “I’m so glad it’s you...” he whispered. “Looks like I was lucky for once.”

She pulled back to look him in the eye, trying to commit to memory that this was real. Adrien was Chat Noir.

Wait.

Adrien was Chat Noir!

She was just embracing Adrien!

She had spent the last two years running along rooftops with Adrien!

A hot blush dusted her cheeks as her eyes blew wide.

“My Lady?” He sniffed.

“Oh my god! You’re Adrien! You—I!!” All the attempts he made to kiss her flashed through her mind and then—“We kissed!”

“Ah...yeah?” Adrien was having his own freak out, but on a much smaller scale. He knew Ladybug’s parents! He’d been to her house and in her room! She had pictures of him all over her walls! Sure, they had a little awkward relationship, but she was always there for him. She was there for all of her friends. Bending over backwards to help them all. Always going above and beyond. She was so smart and clever and creative and beautiful and funny and—

He didn’t stand a chance.

Marinette’s musings had become vocal. “I can’t believe it’s been you all along! But I mean, you’re so different as Chat Noir! Not that you’re not still cute! I MEAN—! No, you are! You’re just goofier! Relaxed? Oh and here I thought I knew everything about you! But now I have to find out that the guy I’m crushing on is the same as my silly partner—ohmygod! You’re not wearing a coat! You must be freezing!”

Adrien listened to her rant with a smile, the way he always did when she rambled. It was cute and endearing, and a pleasant distraction from the hell that awaited him back home.

Without much thought, he leaned down and pressed the most gentle kiss to her lips. Just a peck, and nothing more.

She fell silent, her face red and eyes sparkling.

He grinned, “I don’t need a coat anymore.”

The stunned look turned into a gentle smile. “I’m glad to see you’re smiling, kitty.”

“Still willing to take this stray home?”

“Of course! This is even better because my parents know you!” But then her face fell, in something akin to horror. “Wait no! I can’t bring you home for Christmas!”

“What? But you just said—“

“Ugh! I know! And I’m going to but—“

“But what?”

She groaned loudly. “The relentless teasing...”

“Teasing?”

She placed both hands on her burning cheeks. “Um...my whole family kind of knows that...I sorta...have a giant crush on you?”

He smiled. “You talk about me that often?”

She glanced away. “I’m surprised I even hid it from you. Wait, did you know?!”

“You just said it. In your little monologue before I kissed you. ‘The guy you’re crushing on’, right?”

“Oh no! I said that?! Ugh! Stupid stupid!”

“Hey, no no...” he soothed, wrapping his arms around her waist. “My Lady is smart and wonderful. And literally the coolest person I know.”

“You...really think that?”

“Absolutely! Marinette, I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count all your amazing qualities and accomplishments! You amaze me, Bugaboo!”

That nickname sent a shiver down her spine. It was just so Chat.

“You...you’re pretty awesome yourself,” she smiled coyly.

He returned it, but only for a moment as his smile faded. “Even though...my father is—“

“Ssh!” She hushed, pressing a finger to his perfect lips. “We’re not going to think about that today or tomorrow, okay? I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m with you. Okay?”

“Okay.” He whispered, his heart in his throat. “And...and if your family teases you about me, then I’ll just give you a little kiss each time. Okay?”

“Adrien!”

“What?”

“You can’t just—say stuff like that!”

“I’m not just saying it. I’m going to do it.”

“B-b-But! It’ll be weird!”

“Only if we make it weird.”

“But what will everyone think when I say ‘oh this is my friend, Adrien, he’s going to be staying for Christmas’ and then you plant one on me?!”

“Well, we are French!”

She covered her face again in embarrassment.

“This is fun! I’ve never see you so flustered by my flirting, My Lady!”

“...jerk.”

He pulled her closer and shivered in her arms.

“Oh my goodness! You still don’t have a coat on! Come on!!” She took his hand and they hauled ass to the bakery.

—

Since it was Christmas Eve, the bakery closed early, but now there was a large table stretched out through the lobby.

When Marinette and Adrien entered, Sabine smiled at them warmly.

“Marinette, you were just supposed to drop something off! Not pick something up!” But then her jovial mood switched as she took in Adrien’s appearance. “Oh honey what happened to your eye?!”

“Um...” he began sheepishly. “I um...I had a little fight...” he stood ramrod straight as Sabine touched his face very gently, just as Marinette had. “...with my father.”

Sabine gasped. “Oh good heavens!”

Marinette provided, “I found him wandering the streets alone, and I invited him over...he ran away from home.”

“I’m really sorry to intrude, Mrs. Cheng...I just...I’m scared. I’m not safe at home.”

“You are staying here as long as you need to!” The woman stated fiercely. “Come on!” She grabbed his wrist and started yanking him upstairs. As they passed the bakery kitchen, she called to her husband. “Tom, Adrien’s joining us for Christmas, please set an extra plate at the table.”

“The blonde boy that Mari likes? Of course!”

Sabine pulled Adrien upstairs into the bathroom across from the living room. He could hear a group of people laughing and talking across the hall. She took a washcloth and soaked it in cold water, then folded it up and placed it on his cheek. “Here we go, this will sooth the throbbing.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cheng.”

“Sabine is fine, dear.” She patted his head sweetly.

Marinette stood in the doorway, just watching.

“Your shirt is soaked! Let me find something for you to wear. Just stay here and keep that wash cloth on. Marinette, will your help your father set the table, please?”

“Yes maman!”

The door closed and Adrien was left alone in the bathroom. He could hear the party from the living room, a group of people joyfully enjoying their Christmas.

“Well, despite that major kick to the nuts, looks like your Christmas might just be okay.” Plagg acknowledged.

Adrien shrugged. “I...hope so. To be honest, I’m really overwhelmed. And I kind of wish that we hadn’t revealed ourselves like this...”

“It had to happen eventually...besides, you need her now more than ever. I’m not so good at comforting you.”

“I think you do a fine job, Plagg.”

“Oh, well, in that case, give me cheese.”

—

Sabine was hosting family Christmas this year, and was up to her neck with stress. But with everything she did, she handled it with a smile and kindness.

But seeing Adrien in that state made her so angry, that she was having a small break down in the bedroom. Though it only manifested with her yanking clothes out of the closet, looking for something small for Adrien.

She always wondered. The stories that Marinette shared about him, how he wasn’t allowed to do so many things. She just couldn’t imagine it was this bad.

She found an ugly Christmas sweater that was too small for Tom, and a soft T-Shirt for underneath. Then she collected herself and popped into the living room.

The family inside greeted her warmly, as they chatted away. Playing cards, sipping on wine, and watching Christmas movies on the TV. Sabine cleared her throat and got everyone’s attention.

“There’s been a slight change in plans. Marinette’s friend Adrien is joining us for Christmas this year.”

“Oh is this the boy she’s had her eye on for a while?”

Sabine smiled. “Yes, but as far as I know, they’re just friends. This is an emergency for him. He ran away from home tonight, and I don’t know the details.”

A collective gasp and hums of sympathy came from the group.

“Look, please just…don’t ask about his family, and pretend like you don’t know anything. We just want him to have a nice Christmas!”

“Oh, I think we can manage that.” One of the aunts declared. “Bring him in! We have to meet him!”

“He’ll be in in a moment. Tom is setting up the table in the bakery, and dinner will be ready in a minute. In the meantime, can I get anybody anything?”

—

Sabine returned to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “It’s just me, Adrien.”

He opened the door, shirtless with the washcloth still pressed to his eye.

“I found this in the closet. I got it for Tom several Christmas’s ago. It’s a little small, I think it’ll fit.” She held up the sweater for him to see. It was red with little silver pom-poms on it, and right in the middle was a cat and gold cursive letters that read ‘Meowy Christmas’. Adrien stared in shock.

Sabine saw the look and took it differently. “I know it’s not the most stylish…”

“No, it’s perfect. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…” He touched the soft fabric, finding it almost silky to the touch, and not at all scratchy like most sweaters. He put in on with haste, and then hugged himself. When he looked up again, his eyes were glassy. “Thank you, Sabine.”

“Of course honey.”

Marinette came up the stairs. “The table’s all set—“ then she got an eyeful of Adrien’s new look and snorted.

“Do you like it?” He asked earnestly, “I think it’s so me!”

“It is so you! I can’t imagine that sweater for anyone better than you.”

He beamed.

“Come on, I’d like to introduce you.” She took his hand and led him across the hall to the living room. “My mom’s family is in China, but my dad’s side of the family all lives here in France.” She opened the door, and the murmuring became joyful conversation and laughing. But glances looked over to them, seeing the handsome boy with a black eye, and the conversation halted, only to be replaced with cheerful greetings.

Adrien smiled wide, but trembled with nervousness.

“Hello everyone, this is my friend Adrien, he’s going to be joining us.”

“Oh it’s so nice to meet you!” A woman said, approaching him with open arms. She hugged him tightly. “I’m Nann, Tom’s little sister. It’s so nice to meet you!”

“It-it’s nice to meet you too!” He chirped.

“This is my husband, Paul.” She gestured to a tall skinny man. “And those are my two boys, Brett and Kyle.” Two little boys were glued to the TV and didn’t even glance over.

“And that’s my Aunt Jenny and Uncle John,” Marinette pointed out. “They have three sons that are older, Perry, Philip, and Patric.” She pointed to three college-aged boys sitting at the table, laughing about something.

“And then you remember my Nonna from my birthday party.” An older woman was in the kitchen, taking a dish out of the oven.

“And then my Nonino, my grandpa, is over there on the couch. He’s actually my great grandfather.” A little old Italian man was on the couch, passed out, snoring with his mouth wide open.

Adrien looked around the room, admiring all the decorations. There was a shelf on the wall, lined with stockings and lights and garland. A tree, decorated with red and white lights, bird ordainments, crystal garland, and a shimmering star stood in the corner, sending glittery lights across the room. Little touches of Christmas dusted the room. A little nutcracker here, a festive pillow there...everything to make the house feel warm and...like a home.

“Your house is beautiful.” He whispered.

“Oh! Thanks! I actually helped decorate this year!”

He gave her soft look, one that was wrapped in awe and reverence. “Can we decorate our house like this when we’re married?”

She sputtered. “Wh-What?!”

Adrien flushed, realizing he had said that out loud. “Ah—I mean, you know...” he didn’t have an excuse so he just shrugged in a way he hoped was convincing.

She blinked, raising an eyebrow.

Sabine saved him from the awkwardness of having to explain himself by announcing, “Dinner’s ready!”

—

Downstairs, Adrien was seated next to Marinette on one side, and Nonino on the other.

The feast was amazing. A huge turkey with chestnuts sat in the middle of the table, ready to be carved and devoured. Au gratin potatoes and green beans, corn and duck liver pate, and of course, all sorts of bread from the bakery…the spread looked delicious, and all homemade. Adrien salivated as his stomach rumbled.

“Let’s all hold hands.” Tom stated from the head of the table.

Obediently, Adrien took Marinette and Nonino’s hands, and bowed his head to pray.

But instead, the group started to sing.

Thank You, Lord, for saving my soul,

Thank You, Lord, for making me whole;

Thank You, Lord, for giving to me

Thy great salvation so rich and free.

Then Marinette let go of his hand, a bit begrudgingly.

The meal commenced, plates being passed around, spoons tapping on dishes, light conversation filling the air.

A small hand rested on his thigh.

“You doing okay?” Marinette asked softly.

“Much better,” Adrien said earnestly.

“So, Andre,” Nonino said to Adrien, loudly. “What do you doing for a living?”

“Nonno, he’s 15.” Marinette chuckled. She should have see this coming. Nonino was notorious for appraising boyfriends to make sure they were good enough for his relatives. Even though Adrien was introduced as a friend, not that he knew that.

“…I do have a job though…” Adrien shrugged. “I do some modeling.”

Aunt Jenny glanced over. “I thought you seemed familiar. I might have seen you before! What kind of modeling do you do?”

Adrien didn’t mind his modeling career. It wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but he didn’t hate it. And for today, it was a safe topic. “Mostly clothing, though I did recently did a fragrance ad.”

“Oh that’s so fun! Do you enjoy it?”

“I do. But I don’t intend to do it forever. I mostly just do it to…keep my dad happy.”

Nonno snagged onto that line. “What kind of stock do you come from? What’s your family like?”

The other conversations died out as everyone looked to him in horror. Sabine smacked a hand to her face, realizing that grandpa had been asleep during her little explanation.

“O-oh…uh…” He stammered. “I’m…I’m French. My mother and father are both native Parisians.”

“Got any siblings?”

“No, no…just me and my dad. My mom…” He paused, remembering the sight of her within that glass coffin from only a few hours ago. “She’s no longer in the picture.”

“His dad is out of town for Christmas.” Marinette provided smoothly, hoping to help Adrien out a bit and steer the conversation into safer waters.

“Oh? Work related? What does he do?”

“He’s in fashion design.” Adrien answered. That was an easy answer.  

“Anybody I would know?” Asked the old man, with scrutinizing eyes.

“Perhaps,” answered Adrien with a shrug. “It’s Gabriel Agreste.”

This time, utensils clattered to the table as Uncle John choked on his drink.

“Did I say something wrong?” Adrien near whispered.

One of John’s boys, Patric, called across the table. “Marinette! How the hell did you get so lucky to snag the son of Gabriel Agreste!?”

Marinette blushed. “Uh…well, you see…we’re not exactly—“

It was at that moment that Adrien remembered his promise in the alleyway and swooped down to kiss her on the lips. Just a peck, but enough to elicit whooping and hollering from the family.

Marinette sat in shock, unable to think.

The rest of the questioning went a lot smoother and dinner returned to a celebration.

—

After the meal, the family retired to the living room, and everyone grabbed a chair to sit in. While Marinette glanced around for a spot, Adrien sat among the cousins, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her down to sit on his lap. “Now what’s happening?”

Marinette shuffled slightly, getting comfortable. “I’m not sure. Whatever everyone wants to do, I guess.”

A Christmas movie was on TV, and they alternated between watching it, and catching up. Everything stayed light, for Adrien’s sake.

“So how did you two meet?” Asked Uncle John. “Fashion event?”

“No, actually. Adrien sits in front of me in class.” Marinette grinned.

Adrien smirked, thinking about the time when Ladybug wrapped them both up in her yo-yo line. He tightened his arms around her, still somewhat in disbelief that he was holding her like this.

“We actually didn’t get along at first. He was trying to take gum off my seat, but I misunderstood that he was trying to put it on. But then he lent me his umbrella and we smoothed things out.” Marinette grinned.

“Aw!” Cooed Aunt Jenny, “and how long have you been dating?”

Whoops. “Uh…we’re not actually…” Marinette whispered.

“I’m not allowed to date.” Adrien added. “Not until I’m sixteen. But my father can’t forbid me from falling in love.”

“Aww!” The aunts cried.

Marinette blushed, tucking hair behind her ear.

Aunt Nann nudged her husband, “why don’t you get the keyboard out so the boys can show what they learned for Nonino?”

One of the older boys said, “I’ve been practicing my Ukulele, I have a song to show too!”

And so they settled in for a little talent show. Each of the cousins showing off their musical prowess.

As this went on, Sabine slipped out quietly from the room, cell phone in hand, down to the bakery.

She found a contact and dialed, nervous with a twinge of frustration. This was the right thing to do, even if it backfired.

“Agreste residence.” A man’s voice answered.

“Hello, this is Sabine Cheng, Marinette’s mother. May I speak to Gabriel please? It’s about Adrien.”

“This is he. What about Adrien? Have you seen him?”

“Yes sir, M. Agreste. My daughter found him wandering the streets and brought him home.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I will send for him immediately.”

“That’s not necessary. He’ll be staying with us until further notice.”

His tone changed from pleasantly neutral, to dark. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well quite frankly, Adrien was extremely upset when Marinette found him. He said you two had a fight, and not much more than that. But he had a black eye, and that’s enough of an indicator to know of his well being at home.”

“He...has a black eye?”

“Yes, it’s a beauty too.”

“I...didn’t realize...” Gabriel went silent on the line.

Sabine swallowed thickly and continued. “He’s being well taken care of here, so there’s no need to worry. But I figured it would be best to tell you so you weren’t sending out a search party. But I suggest you wait for Adrien to come home instead of dragging him back yourself. And if you do try, I won’t hesitate to call the authorities.”

Gabriel Agreste was a very powerful man, likely one of the most powerful in France. And here the little baker’s wife was threatening him. It was almost admirable. Still, he did not need the publicity of this one bit. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “Adrien can stay. But I would like updates on him. And he will continue with his scheduled activities.”

“Adrien will do what he wants to do. I’m not going to force him to do what you say. He ran away from you. He wants space. And if you don’t want to permanently ruin your relationship with him, I suggest you back off.”

Gabriel was quiet a minute more before sighing. “I may already have. Thank you for watching after him, Miss Cheng.” And he hung up.

Sabine lowered the phone with a shaky hand. She may have just painted a target on her back, but it was worth it for Adrien.

Perhaps it was all the stories Marinette told, or perhaps it was the look in his eyes and polite demeanor, but she felt a strong attachment to the boy. He was a good boy, and she couldn’t help but feel that he was special.

She returned to the living room to catch the tail end of someone’s performance and the applause that followed.

“Can’t you play the piano, Adrien?” Tom asked. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to of course.”

Adrien smiled. “Well actually...”

Marinette nudged him, “go on!”

A bit sheepishly, Adrien sat down at the keyboard, knowing the song by heart. When he was a child, when things were normal, his father would sit down and play this every year. Then once Adrien started to learn, he took over playing it.

Last year hadn’t felt like Christmas because of its absence. So he played the notes and began to sing.

“Sing we now of Christmas,

Noel, sing we here!

Hear our grateful praises

to the babe so dear.

Sing we Noel, the King is born, Noel!

Sing we now of Christmas, sing we now Noel!”

He was surprised he remembered all the words though. His mother had always sung it.

“Angels called to shepherds,

"Leave your flocks at rest,

journey forth to Bethlehem,

find the lambkin blest."”

The family joined his song. “Sing we Noel, the King is born, Noel!

Sing we now of Christmas, sing we now Noel!”

“In Bethlehem they found him;

Joseph and Mary mild,

seated by the manger,

watching the holy child.”

Adrien looked up to see the family enjoying the moment. Nonino had his eyes closed, as he sang the loudest of them all.

“From the eastern country

came the kings afar,

bearing gifts to Bethlehem

guided by a star.

Sing we Noel, the King is born, Noel!

Sing we now of Christmas, sing we now Noel!”

His heart felt light, and his soul at ease. Just this small bit of his own Christmas to share with her family. Perhaps it would become a new tradition?

“Gold and myrrh they took there,

gifts of greatest price;

there was ne'er a place on earth

so like paradise.

Sing we Noel, the King is born, Noel!

Sing we now of Christmas, sing we now Noel!”

—

It was getting late, and the children were whisked off to bed.

Adrien glanced at his duffel bag that sat at the base of the stairs to Marinette’s room.

“Um, S-Sabine? Where will I be sleeping tonight?”

“Oh you can sleep in the guest—“ she paused. “Hmm. Paul and Nann are on the couch and the kids are on the floor, John and Jenny are in the guest room...”

Grandma Gina piped up. “He can share Marinette’s bed!”

“Mother!” Tom gasped.

“What? It’s fine! They aren’t dating! I’ll be on the little lounger and John’s boys are on the floor, they won’t do anything!”

Would it be weird for Adrien to kiss Marinette’s grandmother? Perhaps.

“Well, as long as you two don’t mind...” Sabine trailed off.

“I don’t mind!” Adrien chirped, far too enthusiastically. “I mean—as long as you don’t, Marinette...”

She smiled softly at him. “I think we can handle it.”

So they withdrew to bed. Adrien dressed in soft pajamas and stood nervously at the base of the ladder to Marinette’s bed. The older boys were blowing up air mattresses on the floor, while Marinette’s grandmother had already snuggled into the Chaise, eye mask and earplugs in place.

Marinette emerged from the bathroom in her own pajamas, looking perfectly snuggable. “Do you guys need anything before bed?”

“Nah.”

“We good fam.”

“We gucci.”

She laughed and nudged Adrien. “You sure you’re okay with this, kitty?”

He blushed slightly, “if I’m completely honest, with what happened earlier, I could really use the company.”

“Then let’s get to bed. We’re going to want to wake up early in the morning.” She urged him up the ladder first.

He took the side closest to the wall, and scooted under the blanket. She followed after, as one of the boys turned off the light.

“Hey, lovebirds, wait until we’re all asleep before you start saying mushy stuff, okay?”

Marinette snorted, not looking away from Adrien’s face.

“Night fam!”

Then all fell quiet.

In the light from the window, she could still make out his face. Now that things were stilled, she couldn’t help but worry that his thoughts would take him.

“Are you doing okay?” She asked, so softly.

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, blinking rapidly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Wordlessly, she stretched her legs out, to hook with his, bringing them closer. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.”

Adrien shook his head, his hair ruffling against the pillow. “You didn’t know.”

“We’re partners…best friends even.”

“Yeah…” he shuffled closer, their noses almost touching. “Am…I a bad son?”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Why would you say a thing like that?”

“Because he…he shared this thing with me…and I yelled at him and ran away.”

“Didn’t you beg him to stop what he was doing?”

He nodded, with a sniffle.

“Then you did all you can do. Your father needs help, but you’re still just a kid. We will stop him, and we’ll save him from himself.”

He screwed up his lips and glanced away. “But—“

“Shh.” She pulled his head against her chest. “It’s okay. You’re a good boy.” She ran a hand through his hair. “You’re such a good boy.”

A soft rumble vibrated against her, and she recognized Chat’s purr immediately. She smiled.

“I…I love you, My Lady.” He whispered against her skin. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, kitty cat.” She kissed his head. “I always have.”

“Hey! What did I say about the mushy talk?” Came a voice from down below.

“Aw, shut up Patric.”

[weirdochick56]

Past Lives- Dean Winchester AU  Chapter Three

Dean Winchester x Photographer!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Sadness. Heartbreak. Cheating.

Disclaimers: I don’t own DW.

Word Count:  6,121 words

Read Chapter Two Here!!

*

(Gif’s not mine!)

You wring your hands nervously, fingers subconsciously fiddling with the ring on your forefinger. Dean had given it to you, the simple silver band and small puzzle piece bringing you the warmest of feelings and comfort, somewhat quelling your anxious mental chatter.

You teased him endlessly for it afterward but Dean had made sure to tell you how serious he was as he slid his own, vastly more masculine counterpart, on.

“Because you’re my missing puzzle piece. Because despite what it seems, you complete me and I complete you.” And then he’d leaned over and kissed you sweetly on the lips, hugging you firmly to his chest. He held you like no one else even existed other than you. Like you were his most treasured thing in the entire universe.

You couldn’t remember a day where you had felt as happy as you did that one. Dean satisfied you in ways you didn’t even know existed before him.

And now...now you were getting ready to possibly break his heart.

He had begged you to stay in Darkwell with him when the option of flying out to a completely different state was put on the table. Hell, he practically got on his knees. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you remember the desperation his beautiful face held when you’d told him you might be leaving for college.

He didn’t want you to leave. Said it’d end your relationship and that he couldn’t possibly live without you.

But you knew - you didn’t want to admit it to yourself at the time- but you knew that your future ran far beyond Darkwell. You had the kind of heart and passion for photography that a small quaint town like Darkwell could never nurture. And now, after weeks to think it over obsessively, you were ready to take the next big step in the direction of forever.

SAIC, the school of your dreams, had offered you a full four-year free ride to their institution and the fact that they hosted the best photography courses in the country didn’t make your decision any easier. Who were you to let that go? To let an opportunity such as this one go to waste?

Your future was at stake and although you loved Dean from the deepest parts of your soul, you knew that if he felt the same, he’d let you go to accomplish your life-long dreams.

That was what love was right? Letting go of the people you love for their ultimate happiness?

And it wasn’t like you were going to stop being in a relationship with him either. Like you were going to stop loving him.

You wanted to be with Dean forever if possible. You dreamed of carrying his children and marrying him and having “an apple pie life” as he liked to call it. You desperately wanted that with him. You wanted it so much, sometimes, it physically hurt you.

So you knew for a fact that a long-distance relationship could never alter your feelings for him. They were just that strong.

And you were prepared to tell him that. To let him know that you were so helplessly in love with him you weren’t letting him go despite the distance separating you two.

So with the heaviest, fastest-pounding heart, you’d ever experienced, you make your way to the small beige house at the end of your block. Only a small lantern illuminated the mostly-dark end of the street as dogs barked in the far distance.

It was fairly late, you knew that. And you hadn’t told Dean you were coming. In truth, it was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, coming here to tell him this right now.

But you had built the courage and if it wasn’t now, then he wouldn’t find out till you were eight hundred miles away from him. Plus, you knew for a fact he’d be here. It was a Wednesday night so he didn’t have anything going on.

You bite your lip nervously and walk slowly up the stoops, stopping at his front door. With a slightly trembling hand, you press the ring bell, shivering when a cold wind whisks past you and trying to ward off the anticipation gnawing at your queasy gut.

Was this really a good idea? What if Dean ends up hating me? What if the long-distance relationship proposal is something he's not up for and we end up-

You choke back a startled scream when the door flies open, and you’re face to face with Dean’s father; John Winchester.

John Winchester was kind of a mysterious figure in Dean’s life, that much was clear. He was a drunk and hardly ever home for his boys, but he did care for them as far as Dean had told you. He didn’t really like speaking of his father much.

And as far as you were concerned, John Winchester was a shadow, always near but never really a part of anything. Obscure and undecipherable, he was.

You gulp as he slumps lazily against the door frame, giving you a questioning frown. “Can I help you?”

Softly, you speak. “I’m here for Dean?”

He gives you a once-over, chuckles, then leans off the door frame, stumbling his way inside and speaking in a slightly slurred voice over his shoulder.

“Come on in sweetheart. Dean’s upstairs,” he mumbles something else under his breath, plopping back onto the small couch with his eyes glued on the tv and his beer already in hand.

You don’t waste any time idling around, quietly walking in and making a beeline for Dean’s room upstairs.

That is....until a loud snicker from John halts you right before you place your foot on the first step.

You stop and listen carefully to what he mumbles mockingly under his breath. “Damn, that boy is on fire!”

You frown, finding the remark a bit random, but climb up the stairs nonetheless, heart pounding loudly in your ears and hands getting clammy.

C’mon Y/n! Calm down. Dean isn’t going to make you choose, he loves you! He told you so himself and you’re it for him, just like he’s it for you, so no need to-

Just as you reach Dean’s door, you pause, a frown blossoming on your face almost instantly.

There was a sound- loud banging...and...screams? No, more like, shrieking?

Your eyes widen in alarm and your heart races even faster in your chest. Your brain becomes faint and your throat closes up with urgency. It sounded like someone was getting hit. Really hard.

You gasp loudly when a thought strikes you.

Was Dean in danger? Had someone tried to break in through his window? Or even worse, was it someone from the- Oh my  God, oh my God, oh my God! You try to remain composed, looking for anything at hand you could use to battle an intruder.

Silencing an excited yelp, you shoot forward and grasp Dean’s old baseball bat tightly in your hands, holding it readily above your head with one hand and using the other to turn the doorknob.

As silently as you can, you step in as the banging and screaming come more into focus. It almost sounds like- you quickly brush the thought off. Dean could be in danger and you’re here thinking about sex.

The room is dark and you can only see what you imagine is Dean and the perpetrator ensuing on a struggle in the bed, so you decide to flicker the lights on for a better view of who you’d be hitting.

“Worst mistake of your life” would be a vast understatement in this particular situation.

Because what you saw next absolutely and utterly crushed you. Broke you completely.

You stood there, heart completely torn to pieces as Dean scrambles to get off some brunette he’d been previously fucking into his mattress.

A slight sheen of sweat glistened on his tanned, lean torso under the moonlight filtering from the slightly-opened window and for a moment, a mere moment of complete agony when your eyes met his shocked green ones, you couldn’t breathe. The pain was so great, it was suffocating you as you remained immobile, gawking at the scene unfolding before your very eyes and still unable to grasp everything that had just been unveiled.

Dean keeps the sheet tightly wrapped around his slim hips and you can’t help it when the bat drops from your trembling hand and lands loudly and carelessly on the floor of his room.

Tears quickly prick the back of your eyes and your nose and not a single breath is released past your throat.

“D-Dean?” You breathe, mouth agape, heart utterly shattered.

His eyes widen out of shock and fear and he lets out a choked-back gasp. “S-sweetheart!”

You almost couldn’t believe it.  And maybe you didn’t want to believe it. Maybe you wanted this all to be some horrible nightmare you could wake up from and be happy again.

But even as your ears rung and your body remained frozen in place and your lips parted and closed repetitively with utter shock- even then, you knew this kind of pain, the kind that is so powerful it numbs the rest of your senses so that you can’t do anything but feel this intense, overwhelming grief wash over your entire being mercilessly, it couldn’t belong to a simple bad nightmare. No. This kind of all-consuming pain, the one hitting you right now, it was real. And so was the reality of the situation.

Dean cares not for the nudity of the brunette when she yelps in protest at the loss of coverage for her nonexistent dignity. You almost don’t notice her, but from what you can tell, the girl is runway-model gorgeous.

You feel queasy as more tears resurface.

He makes his way to your frozen figure, eyes ablaze with unbearable guilt.

“Y/n,” he whispers hoarsely, arms outstretched as if to touch you.

You blink back tears frantically and scoot as far away from his nearing touch as you possibly can without actually leaving the room.

“Don’t touch me,” you spit with disgust, glaring at him through your blurry eyes.

He flinches with hurt and his own eyes fill to the brim with tears as yours roll down your cheeks, warm and wet.

He swallows thickly and his voice breaks when he speaks to you. “Please Y/n, let me explain. I-”

You cut him off harshly, complete and utter hurt, betrayal, and grief hitting you in large, powerful waves of excruciating pain one after the other. “Explain what Dean? Huh? The fact that you think I’m some dumbass that you can simply manipulate and fool mercilessly or the fact that you’re a cheating lying son of a bitch?”

Your coldness clearly hits him hard as he flinches back from you, his jaw clenching with soft eyes.

“Please Y/n. Please, I beg of you. It isn’t like that! I love you!” he reaches out once more to get a hold of your arm, but you scoot back further from his touch, the immense pain in you suddenly turning into pure rage and disgust. At him. The mere thought of him touching you after having tangled his fingers in her hair. Of using those same hands to touch her in places he probably hadn’t even touched you made you feel absolutely sick to your stomach.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” You wipe violently at your tears with the backs of your hands and throw him another disgusted look. “You actually make me sick Winchester. God, I’d be more pissed at you right now if I weren’t so angry at myself. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve known that you were the piece of shit everyone warned me against.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t give him the chance to, speaking with venom laced in your every word, your gazes evenly met, but yours far more cold and detached than his, which was full with burning regret and fear.

“I actually believed you. God, I can’t believe I fell for your act. Of course you‘d do this to me eventually. And of course, I didn’t fucking see it coming because I didn’t fucking listen.” You smile sardonically, throwing your hands up and trying to push back the big fat tears in front of him. “I refused to believe what other people could see and I couldn’t. Because I was so damn blinded by my love for you and was hell-bent on convincing myself you were actually salvageable.” You scoff at him with pure and utter disgust. “But boy was I wrong.”

He looks down guiltily, begging quietly. “Y/n, please listen to me...” he looks up at you, terror in his eyes. It’s clear from the gritting of his teeth and the tightening grip on the sheets that he’s holding back from touching you. “I swear on my mom’s grave that what I have with you isn’t an act. Y/n please you have to believe me. I’m in love with you.”

Normally this would’ve worked on you. The sincerity in his eyes, the desperate breathiness of his voice, but now that you knew it was a trick, he just ends up looking like a sadistic entitled ass whom you feel nothing but hatred towards. The most immense love was now just as big and full- but with turned to hate and rage instead of endless adoration. Everything -even the air- now tasted sour.

“And you,” you walk past him, careful not to touch him and towards the bed, where the bitch laid, bare and spectating the entire conversation between you two like she had done nothing.

Upon closer inspection, you realize this is someone you know. You look back at Dean with shock on instinct. His back is to you and he stands in the exact same spot as before, head bowed low. You quickly realize your mistake and whip back around to face her, a cold smirk painted clear as day on your face.

“Jane Thomas, huh? I always knew you had particularly low morals, but this? Really bitch?” You cross your arms over your chest and look down at her, cool and -somehow- collected.

She sucks her teeth cockily and smirks up at you, stretching over Dean’s bed lazily like some sort of cat, frustratingly perfect body on display.

“Hey, I don’t blame Dean-o.” She looks you up and down with indifference, piercing blue gaze meeting your own. “I’m definitely an upgrade.”

Her words sting. They really sting. You’re not going to deny that to yourself, but who said she needed to know that?

You go to tell her off but are cut off by Dean.

“Jane, just shut the hell up will you?” He growls.

Your head immediately snaps to him and your face twists into a scowl, your dinner crawling its way up your throat at the sight of him, the face he uses when he’s being protective over you fiercely instilled. It once brought you an immense amount of discreet joy but now...

“Dean, make me a favor and. Stop. Talking.” You almost add “because the more you talk the more it hurts to be here and the less I can act like you haven’t just destroyed me” but bite back your tongue, observing as he immediately shuts up. You know it’s fucked up, but your heart breaks when his eyes, all big and green and wet and wounded meet yours.

Not that it moves you. At all. If anything, it only fuels what you do next more.

You turn back to look at Jane, who’s glaring at you sharply, but still looking far too cozy.

You don’t think you can stay for much longer in this place or with them, the stench of her cheap perfume and fresh sex covering every inch of every wall in the place.

With a condescending smile, you look down at her. “You know...you may think you’ve won. You may think that because he cheated on me with you you’re somehow better. An “upgrade”, if you will.” You lean in real close, making sure her eyes are looking straight into yours so she can see you’re dead serious. “But the truth is, you haven’t won. Because I’m not hurt in the least that it’s you.”

She sputters, swallowing thickly. “W-what do you mean?”

You chuckle in a sickly sweet manner and can see Dean shivering from beside you at the clear darkness of the sound.

“Because, you imbecile, you’re not an upgrade. In fact, you’re so under me that I simply cannot find it in me to be hurt that it’s someone like you.” You turn to Dean, making sure they’re both being addressed by you. “I would’ve been even more hurt if he’d cheated on me with someone with a tad bit more class and intellect. But you, Jane dear, you’re predictable. I expected nothing more from an uncultured, bourgeois philistine and -quite frankly- basic bitch such as yourself.”

You almost laugh at how much more confused she looks than offended. You can’t wait for her tiny walnut-sized brain to catch up to the insults with the help of google.

You turn to Dean, your face stoic as you all but rip the ring he gave you from your finger. You can’t help it when finger immediately feels naked without it, your soul hollow and the true gravity of what had just happened hitting you like a ton of weights. But you pay the emptiness in your heart no mind.

You quickly step close to him, blinking back even more tears. Remaining strong was tearing you up on the inside. Acting like a cold bitch even though what Dean had done was breaking you was hard. It was like being stabbed and having the knife twisted whilst it was still sunken deep into your skin.

His eyes are bigger and more guilt-ridden and broken than you’ve ever seen them but you can’t find it in you to feel anything other than hate and resentment towards him for what he’d done to you.

With strength you had no idea how you mustered, you slap the ring into his chest, your hand quickly retracting from him as his own rises and grips the silver piece of jewelry with heartbreaking slowness.

“I hope you know that you’re dead to me Dean Winchester. I would’ve expected this from anyone- everyone- else but you.” Unwillingly, your voice cracks at the end of your sentence and his frown deepens as big hot tears roll down your face.

“I gave you everything and it still wasn’t enough. All those lies you were spewing when you told me you loved me- that you were in love with me...All those moments we shared t-the ones I cherished the most. The ones that I gave to you despite knowing they would matter for the rest of my life...Th-they meant nothing to you. Absolutely nothing.” A soft sob escapes you and you immediately cup your mouth, watery eyes meeting his. “They meant everything to me Dean. You meant everything to me.”

You look at him one last time. Really look at him. Not for who he acted like with you. But for who he really was, the real Dean Winchester.

And as you looked at him, half naked, hair messy and eyes red-rimmed and tender and begging you softly, you realized...He-he was broken. He was a sad boy who craved love. Someone to save him from his deepest darkest inner demons. ...And you knew this all along.

With a final shaky, deep breath, you straighten out your back and hold your chin up in the air.

“I thought I could save you, Dean. But I see not even the immense love I felt for you was enough to save you from yourself.”

His lips part and fresh tears push their way up to his eyes, silently rolling down his cheeks.

“Y/n, please! W-we can talk this out! Please, baby, I love you! You have to believe me-!” He reaches out, hands outstretched towards you, but you shake your head at him firmly.

“This is goodbye forever Dean Winchester. I never want to see you again.”

And with those final words, you leave him, the first man you’ve ever loved with your entire being and thought you knew, standing there, half-naked and alone. Truly alone.

*

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

And almost a third time, to try and wrap your head around the abruptness of it all.

Because there he was. There he was. The first man you’d ever loved. Your first everything.

With a racing heart, and pushing through the initial shock of it all, you gaze at him, eyes flickering unbelievingly fast, aiming to take in as much as him in as you could.

A shock of electricity runs through you unwillingly. You can’t help it when your heart flutters at how unbelievably gorgeous he was.

His sharp jaw was no longer only smooth skin, but lightly stubbled and made him look more masculine than before. His cheekbones remained high and sharpened the rest of his heavenly facial structure. ...and his lips, those plump pink lips you’d often found yourself having fantasies about as a teen, were now even plumper than before. He’d gotten bigger but instead of it being fat, he’d gained muscle. So much muscle.

You suppress a small groan as your eyes flutter. You don’t realize he’s sizing you up too until your eyes meet his.

Ah, those eyes.

You’d almost forgotten the effect they had on you until they meet for the first time in almost a decade and it’s suddenly crystal clear why you fell for them in the first place. Your heart skips a beat and you find it hard to catch your breath at the sheer beauty they held. So green...so intense.

He looked at you with complete shock and awe, his lips parted slightly. It’s hard not to enjoy how gobsmacked he was.

But there’s also something so deeply hindering in his gaze. Because although it’s clear he’s completely taken aback by you, the expression on his face completely catches you off-guard. He looked...wistful.

Your whole body twitches, your breathing quick and your fast heartbeat making you dizzy. Your stomach flips and knots a hundred different ways and you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so...unnerved by a mere look.

Neither of you looks away from the other too soon though. Completely bewitched. Under some spell...

Finally, you snap out of it, adverting your eyes elsewhere. It feels like an entire eternity, but it was probably only a few seconds.

You dip your head down, using your hair as a protective curtain and begin to completely freak the freak out.

Oh gosh, what do I do?! D-do I say hi? Do I smile? Wave maybe?

Your hands get clammy and your breath shortens with panic. You consider bolting out the door and acting oblivious to it all when the decision is made for you by Oliver.

“Y/n Y/l/n! Oh my God! Is that you?!”

You groan mentally, hiding a flinch when you raise your head with an awfully awkward smile plastered on your face. Slowly sliding off the stool, you have no choice but to approach the pair.

You try to keep your nervous trembling as minimal as possible and your buckling knees well-hidden by having a firm grasp on the bar. Somehow avoiding falling on your face, you stop a few feet away from both men, painfully aware of Dean’s burning gaze on you.

You swallow thickly before offering Oli the sweetest smile you could muster. “Oli. It’s nice to see you again.”

He gasps a little, looking you up and down.

“Y/n, oh my God! It’s been so long sweetie! I can’t believe you’re back.” He beams so genuinely, you can’t help but return the favor with a real smile of your own.

“Yeah, me too.” You find your smile wavering because Dean hasn’t stopped looking at you this entire time. “But I’m only staying here for a week so...”

He gasps in dramatic horrification. “My God Y/n, that’s such a short amount of time!” You hear Dean shift uncomfortably beside you, but decide to ignore it.

“Yeah I know, but I can only really stay for my dad. I’ve got a-” You immediately stop yourself from saying “wedding” and smile to cover your fuck-up up. “An event to plan.”

Oli raises a suspicious brow but doesn’t comment further, opting to give you a dazzling smile instead. “You look fucking gorgeous by the way. Damn girl, the city did you well.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. You can’t help but blush and giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and biting your lip.

Slowly, and with fear equally as much as anticipation gnawing away at your gut, you slowly turn to face Dean, releasing your lip gently to speak.

“Hi.” Your voice is so soft and trembling, you’re surprised he even hears it. I mean, you barely yourself with your heart thumping so loudly in your ears.

His voice is just as soft and breathy with awe and shock as he looks at you, gulping lightly. A small, slightly sad smile graces his luscious lips. “Hey.”

His voice is smoother, richer and far more masculine than you remembered it to be and it sends pleasureable shills up your spine. Damn, his voice was sexy.

You suddenly have an overwhelming desire to stare at him longer, but refuse to give into to it, turning around to smile at Oliver once more.

Dean, however, doesn’t seem to feel the same, his eyes still stubbornly set on you. It’s almost as if he’s looking at you with the intensity of a thousand suns, eyes grazing every inch of your body like he wanted to photograph it with his eyes.

You felt a warm fuzziness blossoming in your chest. One that prompted tingles to erupt under your skin. One very much like the one you felt for him a long time ago.

And you didn’t like that prospect. At all.  

Your head felt unbelievably faint with surprise both at him and well, him as you pretended not to notice his -for lack of a better word-existence.

“Anyways, I just came to say hello Oli. I’ve got to get back soon.”

He pouts, his excitement dimming significantly at your words. “Aw, hun! But I thought we could catch up with everything! Ya’ know...like how life was after SAIC and living in the big apple! I can get you a drink or something-”

You shake your head firmly, giving into the nagging urge and glancing at Dean slightly. He’s already looking at you, so your eyes end up clashing against eachother as soon as you make the rookie mistake.

He blinks a few times, dazed, before clearing his throat and turning his gaze to his beer as if to seem uninterested.

You purse your lips before turning back to Oli with a nervous smile. “Uh, I’d really love to Oli, but my mom’s expecting me to go out with her.” You grin softly, feeling guilty for both lying and leaving so abruptly. “Raincheck?”

He seems hesitant but nods with a small smile nonetheless. “Sure. Think you can swing by tomorrow to chat?”

You smile meekly, rubbing your neck doubtfully. “I don’t know. Depends on what the doctors say to my dad, but we’ll see.”

Oliver immediately frowns, shaking his head sadly. “Yeah, I heard about what happened to your dad, hun. I’m sorry ‘bout that.”

You fight really hard to brush off Dean’s intense staring and the ridiculous effect it has on you, but it was infuriatingly hard to do. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be having zero issues feeling grateful for a friend’s apparent empathy and staying to chat.

You offer a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, thanks. I uh- I h-have to go now so...” you glance at Dean awkwardly and give them a wave of the same manner.

Oli responds enthusiastically, waving frantically after you. You can’t help but giggle softly and shake your head at him, somewhat glad to see your old friend despite the circumstances. Dean offers a tight-lipped smile and waves unceremoniously.

You nod a bit, turn on your heels and walk off. You can still feel Dean’s gaze following your retreating back as you walk away, your heart pounding erratically.

What the fuck was that?

*

“I saw Oliver Rochester today.”

To be fair, the incident had been on your mind for the remainder of the day, so when faced with a heavy silence at the table during dinner, that was the first thing that escapes your mouth.

Your mom smiles, swallowing her food and raising her brows from across you. “Really? How’s he doing?”

You poke a baked potato with your fork and shrug. “He’s fine I guess. Didn’t get much time to talk to him.” You pop the potato into your mouth and hold back a groan at the buttery goodness currently melting in your mouth.

Your mom hums thoughtfully, seemingly overly-interested. “Were you in a rush hun?”

You blush, smiling sheepishly. “Something like that.”

She searches for your gaze, but you refuse to look at her. “Why?”

You choke on your food promptly and your mom only grows more suspicious at your reaction. You attempt to shrug casually, hoping she’ll drop the subject. 

“Y/n? You couldn’t have been in a rush today. That’s kind of impossible considering you just got back. Why didn’t you wanna talk to Oli?”

Dabbing your lips carefully, you sigh defeatedly. “You’re not gonna drop it are you?”

She smiles triumphantly. “Nope.”

You clear your throat and sigh again, this one exasperated. On one hand, you didn’t think talking about your abrupt and awkward encounter with Dean Winchester was a good idea. But on the other hand, you were practically itching to tell someone.

“So?” She urges impatiently. “Why were you in a rush? Saw someone you didn’t like?”

You snort. “That’s an understatement. He was there.”

Your mom remains oblivious for a few more seconds, brows furrowed. “What do m-oh!” She snaps her fingers and then she does a double take, eyes wide and excited as she leans forwards in over-the-top interest. “You mean Dean?!”

You glare at her. “Mom.”

There was also that small detail. Your mom kind of...doesn’t know why you hate Dean with such a passion. I mean, she knows about the break-up, she saw you wallow in self-pity the days leading up to your leaving, but you might’ve...sort of...lied? Not a huge lie. You simply covered up the fact that Dean had cheated on you with the excuse that your heartbreak was all due to you traveling out-of-state for college.

She raises her hands in mock self-defense, huffing. “You know, I don’t know why you hate that boy so much. He loved you.”

You gape at her words, nearly choking on your wine. “W-what?”

She shrugs, cutting up her stake nonchalantly. “It was clear as day. When someone looks at someone else the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking...” she grins. “There’s really no other explanation.”

Your grip on the glass tightens significantly and you try not to chuck it across the room out of pure irritation. If only she knew...

“That’s in the past anyway,” you can’t help but grumble sourly, taking a huge gulp of wine.

She laughs, not looking up at you as she cuts up more of her steak. “Fine, But you can’t tell me the man ages like fine wine. I mean-“

“Mom!” You gasp, utterly horrified and already blushing madly.

She looks up at you and bursts into hysterics. You let out an incredulous groan and stare at her with wide eyes.

She speaks in between pants. “Y-Your...face. I-I can’t!” And then she bursts into a whole new set of giggles before finally calming down enough to speak a somewhat comprehensible sentence.

“Y/n,” she looks you dead in the eye. “I honestly don’t know why you hate him so much, but you can’t deny that Dean is an incredibly attractive man.”

When you see no trace of a joke in her face, only an annoying expectancy of you to agree with her, you grow increasingly uncomfortable. You push yourself off your chair on the table and groan -albeit- to cover up your true discomfort at the topic.

“Well, unfortunately, it would seem I can’t stick ‘round for much longer. I have to call Dave.” Your frown funnily at her. “You remember Dave right mom? Ya’ know, the guy I’m marrying in a few weeks. So if you’ll excuse me..” you smile sarcastically, walking away from her.

She calls after you, voice dripping with sarcasm that almost rivaled your own. “I’d like to meet this guy you say you’re marrying! Preferably before you commit yourself to him for the rest of your life if that’s possible!”

*

Once you’ve brushed your teeth and changed into a pair of comfortable pajamas, you settle into your bed. You’re cautious at first seeing as the last incident didn’t go so well, but once you’re done blushing profusely at the memory and feeling comfortable enough that it wouldn’t happen again, you settle into the warmth.

Picking your phone up from your nightstand, you turn it on, eyes frantically searching for any sign of Dave. Ah! There it is! You smile.

Dave sent you a message.

Your fingers fly across the keys as you unlock your phone and press the messaging icon.

From: Dave❤️😍

Hey babe. I’m so deeply sorry I couldn’t get to you earlier. I got your message and just wanted to let you know the wedding planner is still working out a few kinks with the silverware...or something....

Anyways, my business trip just ended and I’m home right now, headed to sleep off the jet lag.

Is your dad alright? I didn’t want to call and intrude, but let me know when you see this to update me both on him and your safe landing.

Love ya’😘

You can’t help but smile brightly, immensely happy at the text. He does care. I mean, you already knew that obviously, but with the hectic energy of today and Dave’s busy schedule, sometimes it was easy to forget it just how present for eachother you really were.

You immediately go over to his contact name, pressing it with eagerness. You practically bounced off your bed with excitement as you pressed the phone to your ear, intently listening to the ringing.

...only to be disappointed a few seconds later. Again.

Your smiles falls at the familiar voicemail. “Hi, this is Dave Larrson and this my personal phone number. If you’re looking to-“ before his dumb recording can continue to speak and further aggravate you, you sluggishly press the red button, a sad sigh escaping your lips.

You really wanted to talk to him. You wanted to hear his voice, to help remind you just how much you had waiting for you back in NY. You had no idea why you needed this so desperately but didn’t read too much into it. What’s wrong with wanting to speak to your fiancée?

Though, you suppose he’s sleeping right about now. I mean, he was working all week, at least you got some days off. Maybe you should just stop being so selfish.

A bit reluctantly, you text him.

To Dave❤️😍:

Hey baby. I landed safely, though I’m a bit achy all over from the jet lag.

Thanks for checking in with her. (Idk if I should be worried that you’re so lost in the planning process😂.)

My dad is stable, but the doctors are keeping him under close watch in an ICU just to see how his cancer’s gonna progress and when it’s okay for him to leave. I’m going to see him tomorrow morning though, so that’s good.

You’re probably sleeping right about now, but call me as soon as you see this. I want to hear your voice.

Love ya’ too. 😘

You sigh lightly, putting your phone back on your nightstand and letting the exhaustion of the day hit you like a truck.

Your body begins to shut off, eyes fluttering shut, muscles relaxing, breathing slowing down and just before completely losing consciousness, you can’t help but think back to today.

To Dean’s hauntingly green eyes.

It was only your first day back and already the exact thing you didn’t want happening...happened. And with that last thought, a half-second one manages to slip in before you fall still.

You wondered what a brand new day like tomorrow would bring.

Nothing good, that’s for sure.

***

YAYYYY!! Idk why, but I have so much motivation for this one!

The slow burnnnn that will befall you, my dearies, will be unlike any you’ve ever experienced. MUAHAHAHA!!

BRING ON THE FIREEE!!

Lmaooo.

A Special Thanks To: 

@thewinchesterchronicles

@topthis808

@vvinch3st3r

@thorins-queen-of-erebor

And my forevers of course.

@sherlockedtash88

@lilypalmer1987

@jessikared97

@mogaruke