#i have been told. this comes from a kids next door fanfiction?

[quotegender]

guncapableofkillinggodquoteic

a gender related to the quote “With that single act, he buried his innocence and created a gun capable of killing a god.”

[ PT. guncapableofkillinggodquoteic END PT. ]

[ ID start: a flag with six (6) horizontal wavy lines, in the following colors: yellow, dark green, green, teal, light green, and yellow. End ID ]

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[moonlightspencie]

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victim with a missing liver. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

[jounosnumberoneslut]

Just wanted to make me jealous?

Jouno Saigiku x Reader NSFW

Sorry for the grammatical mistakes and word repetitions, english isn't my native language!

This is my first fanfiction, hope you'll enjoy ♡

Pairings... Jouno Saigiku x fem!reader

Contains... celebration party, alcohol, party killer Jouno, dance with Tecchou, smut!, oral (fem!receiving), dom!Jouno, begging, tummy bulge, dirty talk, hair pulling, masochist reader, choking

AFAB reader

You’ve joined to the Hunting Dogs one month ago, finished your first mission succesfully with Jouno and Tecchou that’s why the team thought, this must be celebrated with a party.

You was in your apartment at the HQ, getting ready for the night while listened your favourite music. It was a hot summer day so you picked a short black skirt with a black cami top as your outfit. You choose a black leather choker for accessory. Luckily the dresscode is not the hunting dog uniform this time. While putting on your eyeliner and dark red lipstick fantasied about what will wear the others.

You haven’t seen them in casual clothes except Tecchou. You had to bring up to his apartment a letter from Fukuchi at late night, he opened the door wearing only a grey boxer, probably you woke him up. Your cheeks turned red when you stared his muscles and abs instead of his eyes. He didn’t notice your reaction because he was sleepy.

You checked yourself in the mirror last time, sprayed yourself with parfume and headed to the office what was the party’s spot.

You walked next to the building where your office was, you already heard the loud music from inside. You opened the door and what you saw. Fukuchi singed into his bottle of beer:

- I’ve been searching for a man, all across Japan, just to find, to find my samurai! – while pointing with his other hand toward Tecchou who danced with his sword.

In the corner at the table Jouno with his head down covering his ears, said:

- Finally Y/n! Do something with these two! They are giving me headache!

- What’s wrong Jouno? – Fukuchi laughed.

- The loud music pain in my ass, I don’t need your false voice too! Anyway Y/n has arrived she is the reason why we are here. – Jouno answered with his head on the table.

Tecchou threw away his sword, opened his arms and hugged you tightly. He wears a dark grey shorts decorated with a lance on it, and a black singlet so you can see his well muscled arms. And feel them around you... On the top of his head was a lighting party glasses. You hugged him back.

- Wow Tecchou how much did you drink already?

- aonly one glass of whiskeycola with BBQ sauce. – Jouno answered to my question instead of Tecchou who looked devestating to him. You thought he should be drink more to acting like this.

- What do you want to drink Y/n? – Fukuchi asked you and turned lower the music.

- I would whsikeycola too but without BBQ thank you...

Your boss poured it for you while the rest of hunting dogs has arrived. Teruko wears a small glittered dark pink dress and Tachihara? He almost lost in his elegant suit, he’s a kid.

- I told, you will come to the party 10 years younger than you really – Teruko laughed on him.

- Don’t mess with me Teruko! I will be drunk very quickly with this body!

You chuckled on his situation. You was happy they gathered because of you, and of course they like to have fun too. Except Jouno who still sitting in the corner of the office. To be honest, you liked him from the beginning. He is smart and mysterious, you heard from the others he likes or just liked to torture people. Quiet, calm and serious, but it’s funny to see him arguing with Tecchou. He is blind, but sometimes he is better in fight thanks to his hightened senses what stimulated your mind. You walked toward to him.

- Can I sit down? – you asked. He wears an elegant peach xolored shirt and a dark brown pants.

- Of course you can. Besides I want to congratulation to you, for your first succed mission. – he kindly smiled to you.

- Thank you. What do you drink Jouno? – you asked and wanted to clink with him for the celebration.

- Coffee. My senses dulling under the effects of alcohol. Incidintally I handle with the booze well, just difficult to sense anything around me then. – he explained.

- Oh, I see. So you won’t clink with me? – you looked at him dissapointed – Just a glass of something? – Teruko appeared on his side with a bottle of whiskey and a glass, started to pour the alcohol in it.

- I hope this meets your needs Sir – she said and gave to him the glass of whsikey.

- What do you want? – the white haired man asked her suspiciously – You never act like this.

- I just never saw you drink. I’m curious how will it affect you. Maybe will you dance? – her eyes are sparkled as if it were her greatest desire.

- I won’t dance. I lose my sense of space because of the loud music...

- Then, we will dance instead of you! Come Y/n!

You felt bad about him. He doesn’t look like who likes to dance or being drunk. Just imagined yourself in his place. Your heartbeat changed, he could feel it.

- Don’t worry about me. I’m having a great time, go dance with the others, I won’t leave. – how he said his last word clinked his glass to yours. – Cheers darling!

And he drank what was in your glass like you did.

You went to the others, drank more and more. Danced together with the adult Tachihara after Teruko changed his real age back. You felt yourself a little fuzzy, knew your place, just was a little bit feisty. You had a long slim fitting dance with Tecchou who was behind you caresses your hips and gave soft kisses to your neck. You played with his locks. Jouno noticed your little play and walked toward to you.

- I think I’m going home. This was a great party but enough for me. Good night! – he said without emotions and went to the door. You separated from Tecchou and went after him.

- Wait Jouno! I wanted to go too, wait for me please, just say goodbye to everyone.

- I’ll wait outside. Hurry.

You went back to Tecchou, gave a kiss on to his cheek. He was kinda cute, didn’t wanted to do anything what you don’t want, just flirted like you with him. You said goodnight to everyone and left them, they turned up the music louder and continued to dance.

Jouno waited for you at the side of the building.

- You didn’t look like who want to leave.

- But I am. This was enough for me too. I doesn’t want to be too drunk before I do something stupid. Anyway, if you are the reason of the party, and can't pay attention for everyone that’s not fun. So, would you like to come home with me?

He was suprised what you said, couldn’t find the words, just nodded.

You entered in your apartment, took off your shoes and walked into your kitchen.

- Do you want to drink something? – you asked.

- Water please. – he said. You opened your fridge and took of a bottle of water and a sake. You him the water.

- One shot of sake? – you asked.

- I’m in.

You poured sake for the two of you. Jouno raised his glass to you.

- Thank you for the invitation. It’s very kind from you. – he drank a little bit of his booze – I’d bet Tecchou will stand here tonight. Or you in his bed. – you chuckled on this.

- No no no. I don’t want anything from Tecchou. I mean, I like him so much, he’s very cute and kind. His body is wow, his hair... I enjoyed his approach but...

- But? – Jouno cut you off, drank his sake down to the last drop and moved closer to you . – You like him, so what’s the problem?

He felt your fastened heartbeat. You was confused, couldn’t find the words, didn’t know the right answer. But you knew.

- I just don’t want him like that. – you answered a little bit more tetchier. He stepped more closer, you were within reach neither from each other now.

- Then who do you want like „that”? – another step forward you.

- No one. – you asked quickly.

- This is a despicable lie you’re telling dear. – he smiled devilishly, placed one of his hand under your chin, made you look at him. You flinched of his touch and nearness.

- You can’t lie to me do you know? When we were on that mission, I took you cover, you acted like now. You was flustered because of my touch... When I took of my cape and spread it on you because you were cold. You checked my build. – he chuckled – I offered to take off my top and give it to you, ensure that you warm up faster. I felt how your heartbeat changed. You were embarrassed by the thought of my half naked body. And tonight’s special production from you and Tecchou? Just wanted to make me jealous. You don’t want anything from him... but from me?  I’m standing here in your apartment not him, this isn’t an accident. Tell me if I’m wrong dear.

His smile is cocky, your lips are inches from his. You can’t say a single word. You are blusted. Your face is full red now, lost in your thoughts. Impossible to hide your feels before him. He didn’t hesitate to catch your lips. His mouth is soft, you can taste the sake on it. He played with yours then entered in. Wasn’t rough, but passionate how his tounge explored your mouth. He breaking off the kiss.

- This is what you wanted right? – he asked, you could feel his breath on your skin.

Your answer was to jumped on him, wrapped your legs around his waist. He held you under your tiny skirt, felt his big hands on your butt. You were in each others mouth, he carried you to your couch, lied you down. He crawled onto you, smoothed your hair away from your face, softly bit your cheek and whispered in your ear:

- You are already wet aren’t you? I smell it, may I taste it?

He turned you more and more, didn’t want to believe, Jouno Saigiku leaned over you. He placed small kisses to your skin while climbing down to your wet spot. One of his hand wandered up to squizze your breast, massaged it. You let out a quiet moan. He rolled up your skirt, kissed your skin around your pantie. Put his nose into your clothed pussy, smelled in it’s fragrance. He licked the fabric and then, like a predator who tasted the blood, with a sudden movement ripped off your pantie. He kissed in your juicy pussy rough, panted into it. He licked it from above to below. Jouno eated you out like no one ever. You runned your fingers through his white locks while moaned his name quietly, what he heard perfectly.

- You are so tasty. – whispered into your burning core.

Then he started to circling around your clit with the tip of his tongue.

- Ahh Jouno! – you moaned his name throwing back your head down from the couch.

- Cum in my mouth dear.

He spread your pussylips and sucked your clit softly, then rougher and rougher. You grabbed his hair, pushed his face more into it, screamed his name while your thighs acted on their own, squizzed his head. You came in his mouth, how he ordered.

- Good girl, how obdient. – he leaned up close to your face and gave you a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself, his face soaked from your juice - Now please tell me, where can I find your bedroom? – he placed your hand to his crotch – you have another mission here.

- First door after the kitchen... – you said shakily.

Jouno picked you up easily, carried you to your bedroom and lied you down to the soft bed. You sat up, so he could take off your top and unbrace your bra with one hand, then stopped on your neck, tightened a bit. Gave you a long kiss but now you can’t order to you. You started to unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. He chuckled in your mouth on your movements, got up on his knees and took of his shirt and pants. You finally could see his muscles, abs and his erection under his boxer.

- Do you like the view? – he asked.

- So much... – while you answered his question crawled onto him, making him lay down to his back.

Now you are on him. Placed small kisses from his neck, through his collarbone, chest and abs until you reached down to his hard member. He flinched slightly at all your kisses, his skin is sensitive too. You pulled down his boxer to free his aching  cock. It is long and thin, with few vessel. You saw the precum bubbling out from his it. First licked his balls, went up through his lenght, then tasted his fluid. He let out a sigh and brushed your hair with his fingers. You took off your skirt, crawled over him and positioned yourself above his dick. Grabbed it gently and placed to your entrance, sat down slowly to his lenght. You moaned, waited for this feeling since you met this man above you.

- You are so tight baby, feels so good to my cock.

You slowly moved up and down on his hard member, he reached your boobs, massaged them and played with your nipples. You moaned, loved the touch of his hands. Bounced harder on him, placed your hands to his chest and abs, tried to find the balance. Your right hand moved up to his neck squizzed it while moaned his name. Suddenly he grabbed your throat tightly and pushed back into the bad, changed the roles.

- You... can’t... do that. – whispered in your ears.

A teardrop rolled down on your face, he licked it down and smiled devilishly to you.

- Are you crying already? I didn’t even touch you... You won’t able to walk tomorrow...

- Hahaha – you laughed – I like pain silly boy. I enjoy it better thank you think – smirked and licked his lower lip.

- Really? Do you know that my hobby is torturing people? I think we’re gonna get along.

He didn’t hesitate, pushed his cock balls deep in your wet pussy. You screamed but smiled at the same time. He still choked you when your hands came behind his back and hugged him tightly. Your sweaty bodies sticked together, you felt his muscular chest on your tits. He pumped deep in you then suddenly stopped. Jouno placed his hand on your tummy and pressed it down. He wanted to feel his hard cock from outside of you. You touched it yourself, he is so long, it bulging out from your lower tummy. You smiled to each other like two sick pervert and he continued moving faster and faster. He hit your G-spot, you fel another orgasm coming and clawed through his bare back make him to slow down. All of sudden he slapped your face.

- You fucking whore! To hurt me is not allowed to you! Turn around for me!

You was suprised cause the slap but you loved this sadistic side of Jouno. Made you more horny. You kneeled with your ass before him, pushed his cock deep in your pussy and moved faster than before. Pressed down your head into the pillows, with his other hand slapped your butt. You could hardly breath but smiled, enjoyed the situation.

- Jouno, Jouno, ahh fuck me harder, yes, I wanna cum, you are so deep!

You are out of your mind, Jouno suprised, he could able to know many things about you but not everything. You were already lying under him,  he moaned a little bit louder, you finally heard his voice like this. He pushed yourself so deep as he can, trembled of his orgasm and laid on you. You felt his full weight on you, waited a little while he catching his breath and moved next to him. You felt his sperm leaking out from your pussy. He lied to his back, pulls you onto his chest, gave a kiss to your head.

- I’ll kill Tecchou if he touches you again.

- So, did I make you jealous? – you chuckled.

- Maybe...

Thank you for @win-writes @iovetecchou and @stinkyme whos inspired me to write my first own, and whos works keep me alive in the everyday ♡

and ofc @nikolaiismysugardaddy whom I talk everyday and inspired each other ♡

masterlist

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 16

That was truly a fucked up situation. Apparently That boy had been missing for few hours. He had disappeared from a birthday party and now the police was searching for him in the streets of Chicago. Veronica and Desna had figure it out whilt talking with Kev, because a police car had passed by their house making an announcement about the boy.

“Shit, it’s him. They are speaking of him on the TV, with pictures,” Desna said turning it off. Why did the Gallagher had that baby?

“Fucking Gallaghers,” Kevin said, before Veronica went to take back the baby in her arms.

“Des, go in the bathroom and take the laundry basket,” V said and Desna even if she frowned she did what she asked, “Kev, take those t-shirts.”

“What are we doing?” Asked Desna getting back in the living room.

“We’re bringing him back to the Gallaghers,” V said putting the baby in the basket.

“Yeah, baby!” Kevin exclaimed proudly.

The three of them froze when they heard another police car passing in the street.

“All right let’s be quick about it,” Desna said covering the boy. That’s how they found themselves trying to reach the Gallagher’s house as fast as they could. And the three of them exited their house as if they were robbing it. They really risked big trouble for that.

As they made it to the Gallaghers’ house V banged at the door, “Open up, hurry!” She yelled. Desna was looking at the street, the moment before the door was opened felt like an eternity. But when they finally entered the house she felt breathing again.

“What the hell is going on?” Veronica asked, as Desna’s eyes met Lip’s, who had been the one opening the door, and she stopped next to him.

“What happened?” She asked him in a whisper.

He took an heavy breath, “Debbie.”

Desna frowned, “What?”

“Is this that missing baby?” Kev asked showing them the basket.

“Debbie stole him,” as Fiona stated to explain Desna’s eyes widened, “And now we have to figure out how to give him back without getting her 36 month in juvie.”

"Why in the world would she-" But Fiona stopped Veronica to not keep going. Desna looked at Lip again, his hand passing over him mouth.

"There must be a couple of hundreds cops out there," Kevin said looking out of the window.

"His face is all over the TV," Desna added crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes moved to Debbie. Why did she do that?

"I know," said Fiona, "I'm so sorry," then she turned to Debbie as everyone stood up. She told her to keep an eye on the baby, and they all followed thh oldest Gallagher into the kitchen.

"I'm not sure what's going on with her," Fiona admitted sitting on the chair.

"Well, maybe it's because your mom bailed and Frank is a big drunk," Desna slapped Kevin's arm as she passed by. All true, but maybe he could have said it with less sarcasm.

"What?" Kevin exclaime, "Am I the asshole now? She's the one who stole a baby!" Both her and Vee glared at the man.

Desna was sitting next to Lip when he started to speak, "Look, she obviously planned it."

"Why?" Desna asked softly, already see how he and his siblings were worried.

"She took a stroller out of the garbage and fixed it," he explained.

"That's what she used?" Lip nodded.

"And she waved a candy bar at him," he added and Desna closed her eyes.

"Jeasus..." she muttered.

"Hey, Debbie is still a little kid," Steve said from next to Fiona, "Worst things that happens is that she gets some help."

"Help?" Lip exclaimed.

"What kind of help?" Ian asked with a frown.

"She stole a baby," Steve stated. Fiona's expression matched with her brothers as she spoke.

"She is not crazy," she said, "She just sort of accidentally took a kid."

By what they were saying ut didn't sound so accidental.

"Not of she lured out of the yard with a candy bar," Steve exclaimed. Fiona moved back, putting some distance between them.

"What are you suggesting?" She asked aggressively.

"Some kind of professional-" but Lip interruped him.

"What a shrink?" His leg moving up and down so Desna put an hand on it to try and give some comfort.

"Gallaghers do not do therapy," Fiona stated, just before that another police car went by the window. It was only a matter of time before someone would have knocked on the door. Desna looked up at Lip as he put his hand over hers.

"Lip, we need a plan to get that boy back to his family," Fiona said looking at her brother, "Or Family Services is gonna have a field day."

"Family Services?" Steve asked.

"If they find out Frank's moved, they'll take the kids, split them up," Fiona explained, "Remember what happened last time?"

"Shit..." Lip muttered.

That was true, Frank was their father, and if their guardian didn't live with thrm anymore for the Family Services the presence of Fiona ment nothing. What a fucked up situation.

“Okay,” Lip said, “Okay, let me think about it for a minute,” Ian got up from the couch.

“I’ll look for Carl,” he said heading out. As Fiona stood up to make coffee with Vee.

Desna stood up to take a notebook on the cabinet next to Kev, then she went back to Lip, his legs moving nervously. She looked at him for a moment, before kneeling before him, “Hey, you’ll make it,” she said, one of her hands went to his thigh.

“If I don’t?” He asked, eyeing Debbie, but Desna made him look back at her.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” she said gently, giving him the notebook, “You can do this, Lip,” he observed her for a moment, before nodding his head. Her eyes followed his movements as his hand opened the notebook.

“Tell me if you need anything,” she said.

“Stay here,” he answered. They both shared a glance, before she set down next to him on the couch. He’s been there scripting for some time, writing times and roads, at some point Desna even went to take a map of the city so that he could pinpoint the different key places.

“Alright,” he said at some point, “I think I got it,” she smiled at him.

“Really?” He nodded and quickly they gathered everyone to the living room to hear Lip’s plan.

“Carl, come here,” Lip said, making his brother to sit on the coffee table, “You know that payphone that’s outside the Kash and Grab?”

Carl nodded, “Yeah?”

“I want you to get on the bike,” Lip kept saying, “Go to the payphone and call the police. Tell them that you saw a little boy walking down Southport Avenue at 2:45. Okay?”

Carl frowned, “Why should I?”

“Wanna be in a children’s home until you’re eighteen?” Ian asked from the couch.

Carl shrugged his shoulders, “Group home on Union has a climbing wall.”

“Carl!” Fiona exclaimed, making the boy scoff.

“I don’t have a bike,” he argued, but Ian had a solution for that.

“Wire cutter’s in the drawer.”

Lip rubbed his eyes before looking towards Fiona, “Alright,” he said, “Steve, Fiona, you guys have to get Debs to take that kid back.”

“I don’t know how I can make that happen,” Fiona said with a hand on her forehead. And Desna glanced at Debbie who was playing in the kitchen with the boy.

“Fiona, you have to or else we are all fucked,” Lip insisted, finally having his sister to agree to his plan.

“Alright,” Lip said, “I’ve made up a story that she had to tell to the police.”

Debbie had to learn the story where she was walking down Southport Avenue and she saw the kid alone who was crying, so she had asked him where his mom was, but he didn’t know. Since he was crying she gave him chocolate.

Fiona nodded her head, memorizing what Lip had said, then he turned to Vee.

“I want you to the cleaners, ask Mrs. Bergdoll to use the phone.”

“That woman is a cold bitch,” stated Veronica and Desna could agree. That woman wouldn’t give a smile or a gentle word to anyone, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have even give a glass of water is a person was dying of thirst.

“I’ve got something for that, okay? Don’t worry about it,” Lip assured.

“Are you talking about pot?” Desna asked with looking at Lip.

“Precisely,” he said nodding his head, “Okay you go there and you say that you’ve seen the boy with a little girl about 15 minutes before on Grand Avenue.”

“Grand Avenue, alright,” Veronica answered.

“But the police could ask why she didn’t call anyone,” Ian said, but Lip had an answer even for that.

“I’ll broke the telephone on Grand Avenue,” he said, “And she could say that she asked to people but nobody helped her because she is poor.”

“Humanity sucks,” Desna said, “Accurate.”

“Des,” he said turning to her, “I need you to go to where Colin Jones works.”

“Colin Jones?” She asked and he nodded.

“The guy in your math class that has a crush on you since your first year,” Lip said.

“I know who he is, I don’t know where he works,” she said before frowning, “Or that he has a crush on me.”

“The comic book store, at the end of Grand Avenue,” he said, “You go there, say that you need to use the phone to call the police, and tell them that you’ve seen the boy everyone is talking about and a girl walking and in hand on the street.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Tell them that you’ve just saw them, but that you’ve lost them, at the traffic light.”

“Alright,” she answered.

“I’ll come get you there with Ian and then we’ll go back towards Sheila’s house.” Desna nodded her head.

“Kev,” Lip said, “What time do you go into work today?”

“I go at 6,” he answered sitting next to Vee.

“You’re going in early,” Lip said shaking his head, “Tell them you saw a little boy in a Superman costume just passing by you. Someone will tell you that they who is the little boy and you’ll call for the police as well. In this way we’ve got covered the street and the hour, once the police will talk with Debbie everything will fit with the reports.”

The plan was set. And if everything went according to plan, they should all be save. Vee was taking care of the baby, while Fiona and Steve were talking to Debbie. Carl and Ian had went outside to take the wire cutter and Desna and Lip were in the kitchen. As Desna was getting Liam ready, she noticed Lip going through his notes again.

“The plan is perfect, Lip,” she said trying to calm his nerves.

“It all depends on Debbie,” he said, his leg bouncing up and down. Desna smiled at Liam, before setting him back into his crib, then she walked towards Lip.

“She’ll do it, and she’ll do great,” she said touching his hair, “You’re plan is amazing,” he turned to her, circling her hips with his arm. He smiled, but of course he was worried. They heard steps on the stairs, to reveal Fiona, “Debbie agreed, she knows the story,” she said, “Get ready to go.”

“Alright,” Lip said as his sister ran back upstairs.

“You ready?” Lip asked Desna, that smiled.

“I am,” then she kissed his cheek, “It’s gonna be alright,” he nodded.

“See you there,” he said just before she put her coat on and headed out the door.

She was confident in the plan. She had to be confident that everything was going according to it as well.

Desna made her way to the comic book store, taking a breath, before entering inside.

“Hello,” she said trying to put some hurry into her voice, “There’s anyone here?”

From behind the shelves appeared Colin Jones. He was a slim guy, taller than Desna, his hair was blond and his eyes dark.

“Desna Hills?” He asked her with wide eyes.

“Colin,” she said walking towards him.

“Is everything alright?” He asked observing her.

“Yeah, no..” she said looking between him and the door, “I think I just saw the boy everybody is talking about. Can I use your phone?”

“Mine?” He asked and she looked at him with a little frown.

“Yours or the shops,” she said, “I just need to call the police.”

“Oh, sure, here,” he said giving her his phone, and Desna was quick to thank him gently. When the police officer answered she gave him her part of the story, trying to sound agitated as well as helpful. As she finished to gave her report, she ended the call, giving the phone back to Colin, who blushed.

“Thank you very much,” she said with a smile.

“No worries,” he stuttered. In that moment the bell of the shop made them turn. They truly where synchronized. She was sure it was Lip and Ian, but her breath dipped in her throat when she saw Iggy Milkovich. His eyes found her and the usual smirk appeared.

“Thank you, Colin,” she said wanting to get out of that shop as soon as she could, “See you at school.”

She was quick to exit from there, but she felt her heart beat faster when she heard the door open behind her.

Shit…

“Aren’t you going too fast?” Iggy’s voice came from behind her, “Don’t you even say hi?”

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” that was not true but she would have found other ways to find Lip and Ian.

Iggy stopped her, appearing in front of her, “You seem eager to get on my bad side,” he hissed.

“I actually would prefer for you to fuck off,” she said, but she gasped when he grabbed her arm.

“You don’t want to do that,” he hissed, “You don’t want to get me angry.”

“Or what?” She hissed back. But he smirked again.

“I’ll give you one last chance,” he said, and she felt herself getting pale and her hands shaking, “Be a nice little girl and give me what I want, or there are going to be consequences,” she felt her body freeze as she looked at him and those eyes that where becoming scarier by the day.

“Des!” Lip’s voice came from behind her. And Iggy was quick to let her go and walk away. It didn’t take long for her to feel Lip’s hands on her arms.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked observing her face, as his hand moved to hers, stopping from shaking.

“Why was Iggy Milkovich talking to you?” Ian asked with a frown.

“Did he do something?” Lip asked searching for her gaze, “Des?”

She wanted to tell him that Iggy was scaring her, that there was something that really was making her uneasy about that guy and what he was saying to her. But she knew that it had been her fault. She had fucked with that guy and now he was acting that way. He was a criminal, probably being in juvie more times that he had been at school, what was she expecting?

“Nothing,” she said, her mouth dry, “It’s okay,” she knew that Lip didn’t believed her, but she shook her head, moving away, “It’s alright, we have to go to Sheila’s.”

“Des!” Lip said when she started to walk.

“Come on,” she just said. The beat of her heart loud in her chest.

********

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[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Regally Smitten

chapter 2: the secret

chapter word count: ~5.2k

synopsis: A future king and his servant are bound by their forbidden love. With the odds stacked against them, and a jealous brother out for blood, will their love prevail? Or will history repeat itself?

warnings: homophobia (specifically religious homophobia, this is a period piece so these beliefs are a reflection of the time period being portrayed, and the characters themselves, and do not reflect my personal beliefs. please read with caution and remember to take care of yourself. ily.) descriptions of violence, main character injury (no main character death), foul language, suggestive themes, brief mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks. one mention of suicidal thoughts (but no action)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of stray kids in reality. this is a fanfiction and should be treated as such. this is not me “shipping” them, these are simply characters based on real life people. i don’t need the minsung antis coming for me.

authors note: i definitely cried multiple times while writing this chapter.

series masterlist • main masterlist

The road to Westwood was a long one. About a weeks trip to be exact. They had rode all day long in the sweltering heat, along a dirt path with little tree cover. Well, Han did. The two princes and the king and queen rode in a gold trimmed carriage. Two members of the royal guard rode in front, their black stallions draped in the colors of the kingdom, their long manes braided with flowers. The guardsmen carried swords and tall poles that flew the flag with the crest of the Lee Dynasty.

Han rode on a much less impressive horse, behind the carriage. As did two other squires, one for prince Rian and one for the king and queen. The carriage kicked up dust from its wheels. It stuck to Han’s sweaty skin and left him feeling gritty and dirty. This was his first time as squire, his first time traveling this far away from the castle, his first time being on the back of a horse for this long. His legs and back were absolutely killing him. And to add to it, the other squires would not shut up. They had all been at their post for years. Whereas, this was Han’s second day.

"How you holding up over there, newbie?" called James, the squire assigned to the king and queen. He had been their squire since heinrich first took the throne almost ten years ago, and he was a royal pain in the ass.

"I’m fine. Just a little sore is all." Han told him. The other squires laughed.

"This is only day one. We’ve still got six days worth of riding before we make it to the Westwood gates. You better get used to it."

Han nodded. Unable to focus on their conversation anymore. He was more focused on not falling off his horse.

And just when he thought he could ride no longer, he could see a small village in the distance. As they approached, they started to see more people. Little stone houses, and small fields of crops. A waist high stone wall surrounded the little town. The entrance was guarded by two men, their armor dented and worn. The carriage stopped. The royal guard didnt have to say anything, before the two small guards stepped aside and let their party through the gates. Both guards bowed as the carriage passed. Everyone in the town stopped what they were doing and gathered around the town center, where the carriage stopped. The small door swung open and minho was the first one to step out. He looked just as he did when they had left the castle that morning. He showed no signs of having been riding all day. Han was sure the same could not be said for him.

Minho was dressed in his royal garb, his white undershirt covered by his lilac velvet vest, and tucked into his black trousers. He approached the town leader as the rest of the royal family exited the carriage. Prince Rian was next, followed by Queen Charlotte and lastly, King Heinrich. Everyone in the town center knelt to one knee, bowing their heads.

"Your Grace," said the town leader. "Welcome to Nalefell. It is an honor to have you."

"Thank you, my lord." Minho told the man. "You all may stand." Minho said louder, so everyone could hear him. "Thank you for your warm welcome."

Though no one stood. Rian gave a snobby chuckle. "You’re not king yet, brother." he whispered into Minho’s ear.

"Thank you, people of Nalefell. We wish to seek shelter for the night on our way to Westwood." the king announced.

"Yes, your grace." the town leader said. "Clarice is the head of our inn. She will get your rooms together right away."

A woman to Han's right stood up, he assumed this woman was Clarice. She bowed and said a quiet 'your grace' before turning on her heel and heading into a large building behind her.

Minho, Rian, and the king and queen followed. Leaving the royal guard and the squires to attend to the horses and the carriage.

Once the carriage was parked, their horses tied and fed, Han and the rest of the squires headed to find their respective royal family member.

Han was so incredibly tired, it took everything in him to drag his feet through Minho’s door. The prince was sitting on the edge of the bed, untying his boots. "I am starving." he announced without looking up.

"Of course Your Grace." Han said, his voice worn with exhaustion. “Let me fetch your dinner." He turned to leave, to head to the small pub across the square from the inn where he was sure he could find something to satisfy the king.

"Hold on." the prince stopped him. Han turned back around, facing Minho, waiting for instruction. "Are you alright?" the prince asked.

"Yes, Your Grace. Just a little tired from the days journey." Han explained. "Though I’m sure you are even more tired than I am. Please allow me to get your dinner."

"Han, you look awful." Minho said.

The look on Han’s face made Minho backtrack a little. "I mean no disrespect." the prince said. "You just look like you need to rest." Minho put his boots back on and stood. "Here. Please lie down." Minho motioned to the bed.

Han froze. "Your Grace.. you are too kind. I could not lie in your bed." Han shook his head. "I will get your dinner and then I will find my own bed if you have no need for me after that."

Minho wanted to tell his squire that he will always have need for him. He needs him in more ways than anyone will ever know. He felt so bad. Han was filthy, covered in dirt and sweat. He looked like he was about to pass out on the spot.

"As prince, im ordering you." Minho said, his voice gentle and not at all sounding authoritative. "Wash up while I go across the way and get us some food. It will give me a chance to talk to some townspeople anyway." Minho crossed the room to where Han stood in the doorway.

"Oh and by the way, my bed is your bed tonight. They only had three rooms. One for my parents and their squire, one for Rian and his squire, and one for me and you."

Han's cheeks pinked at the thought of sharing a bed with minho. Surely the other squires weren’t sleeping in bed with the royals. There’s no way that the king and queen are sleeping in the same bed as James. No, Han would sleep on the floor, as he was sure thats what the other squires would do as well.

Minho smiled, pleased with the blush that covered Han’s weary face. He patted the squire on the top of his head and gently moved passed him, in search of some food.

----

The dinner that Minho had found, filled Han’s tummy and made him very happy. They ate in silence together, both unsure of what to say to the other. The only break in the silence was when Minho had quietly said, "You’re cute with your cheeks filled with food like that. Like a little chipmunk." and Han was so stunned, he could not reply. He just bowed his head slightly to the royal. Minho also didnt add anything after that, having accomplished his mission of flustering his squire once more. He had decided he would do so any chance he could, as he never tired of seeing Han blushing and speechless.

Plates empty and left on the table, the prince climbed into bed. Han grabbed a spare pillow from the corner and took his place on the uneven floorboards at the foot of the bed.

"What’re you doing?" Minho asked.

"We should get some sleep, Your Grace. We ride again at first light."

"I know that." Minho said, shortly. "I meant, what are you doing on the floor? There is plenty of room and I promise I dont bite." Well, not unless Han wanted him to.

"It would be inappropriate, Your Grace. I am comfortable on the floor." Han curled up on his side, unable to see the prince any longer. Even thought the floor was dirty and hard as a rock, it was nice to finally rest his body by lying down. The bed squeaked, and Minho’s head popped up over the footboard. He looked down at Han, curled up in a small ball on the floor, and took a moment to admire him. His eyes were closed, his hair tickling his forehead, his full lips in a small pout. Han opened his eyes. "Your Grace?"

"You’re going to make me sleep up here all by myself? While you’re miserable on the hard floor?" Minho raised one eyebrow at his squire.

"Your Grace," Han began.

"Call me Minho." the prince interrupted. "You were practically limping earlier. There’s no way you will be able to do another full days ride after sleeping down there."

"Your Grace, I am flattered at your concern for me. But I must sleep on the floor. I promise I am okay." Han’s stomach was in knots, the prince's face so close to his.

The prince rolled his eyes. "I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m your future king. Get up here." Minho said, before crawling back to the top of the bed and climbing under the covers.

Han took a moment to take a deep breath before he stood. He awkwardly stood at the end of the bed, wringing his pillow in his hands. Minho lifted the cover next to him and patted the mattress. "I promise to keep my hands to myself." he teased.

Han nodded before gently laying on the bed, as close to the edge as he could get, facing away from the prince. The mattress sank under him and conformed to his body. He had to admit, it was extremely comfortable. He felt sleep coming for him quickly. Minho let out a small chuckle and smiled to himself. "Goodnight, Han." he said, quietly.

"Goodnight Your Grace."

----

The rest of the trip to Westwood was much of the same. Long grueling hours on the back of a horse, behind a carriage thats kicking up dust. The only reprieve being the rest when night fell in a small inn somewhere in the countryside. Though every night that followed had not been like the first night. Each inn they stayed at had a room specifically for the squires to share. Han sometimes let his mind wander back to that first night. Why had the prince insisted on sharing a bed? And why did he seem so.. flirtatious? Surely Han must be mistaken. No, he was delusional. That’s what it was. He would write to Hyunjin and have his best friend set him straight. Though, does he risk writing that down and sending it with a messenger? Han’s newfound feelings for the prince could cause him to loose his job should the word get out. And not only that, it could ruin the prince's reputation. Same sex relationships were defintely looked down upon in this kindgom. Han wondered if maybe it went even further than that. Han had always kept his feelings to himself. Only Hyunjin knows which way Han leans. Who Han fancies. And Han had never heard of anyone else in the kingdom being like himself. Only the gods know what would come about if this information got out. And selfishly, he didnt want to loose his place at the prince's side. No, he would admire him in secret and make sure to keep his distance from now on. Though the prince made it hard sometimes.

On the last day of their trip, the last night in an inn before they made it to Westwood, Han had been asleep on the floor, James had stolen the only bed in their room all for himself, when he was awoken. Someone was shaking him awake.

"Han." shake shake. "Han, wake up." shake.

Han slowly opened his eyes and he was met with.. chocolate. Han jumped back, scooted as far away as he could until he hit the wall.

"Shhh. Don’t wake them." The prince pressed a ringed pointer finger to his lips, telling Han to shush. He motioned with his hand for Han to follow him. Han clutched his boots in his hand and tiptoed out of the room.

"Your Grace." Han whispered. "Is something wrong?"

Minho shook his head and began walking to the entrance of the inn, Han trailing behind him, trying to put on his boots and walk at the same time. They snuck outside, the town quiet, the horses softly munching on their hay. Han finally caught up with Minho, who walked casually behind the inn.

"Your Grace." Han said, quietly. "Might i ask what's going on?"

"I couldn’t sleep." the prince answered. "I thought some fresh air would do me good. And the stars look so nice."

At the edge of the little village, a small river bubbled along, Minho standing on its banks, head tilted toward the sky.

"I agree a night walk is rather lovely.." Han said, still unsure why the prince woke him up for this. Han tipped a small rock over with the toe of his boot, the silence between the two men growing.

"You’re wondering why I woke you up." the prince stated.

Han looked over at Minho, the moonlight making his sharp features even sharper, his nose prominent. Though Han wished he could see that small freckle he knew was there. No, the darkness still hid that from him. "You dont need to explain, Your Grace."

The prince took a step closer to Han. Close enough to poke him in his side. Han jerked away, out of ticklishness, and unsure how to handle this playful nature. "It’s Minho." he said. "I wish you would call me Minho."

Han just nodded, taking a step back, looking at the dirt and trying to gather his thoughts.

"Can i ask you a question, Han?"

"Of course, Your Grace." Minho rolled his eyes. He would get Han to drop the formalities one day.

"You don’t have to answer if you so wish." he said. Han nodded, intrigued with what the prince could possibly have to ask him. "Do you think I will make a good king? Or do you think Rian is better for the job?"

Han took a moment to process the question. He needed to tread carefully. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing. "I think you would make a fantastic king."

"I’ve been raised my whole life to be king one day." Minho said, taking a seat on the soft grass next to the running water. He gestured for Han to sit next to him. Carefully, Han sat cross legged, the soft grass slightly damp with the morning dew. Han noticed the sun would be up soon. "I’m only going to be king because I was born first. If Rian had been born first, he would be the heir, not me."

"If i may speak freely, Your Grace." Han said, pulling up little blades of grass and rolling them together in his fingers. Minho nodded, gesturing for Han to continue. "I think your brother can be a little.. crass at times." Minho chuckled at that. Han continued. "I mean no disrespect toward Prince Rian, but he can be a little harsh. But you, Your Grace.. you are kind. You are what the people need." Minho looked over at Han, who was focused on the grass in his fingers. "You are kind, and fair, and enjoy talking with the people, hearing their stories and where they come from. Sometimes I feel like your brother is just interested in the notoriety." Han looked up and met Minho’s gaze. The prince was staring at him, hard. "But- but I’m sure im mistaken. prince Rian is lovely."

"Do’nt lie to me, Han." Minho said.

"Never, Your Grace." Minho looked as if he was searching for something in Han’s features. Any trace of dishonesty. Not about Rian. No, Minho knew his brother was an ass. But did Han really believe everything he had said about Minho being kind? Should Minho be harsher? More like his brother? Is that what it takes to be king? Minho wasn’t sure.

Han turned his gaze to the water, dipping his fingertips into its cold depths, unable to look into Minho’s eyes any longer.

"What if I just left?" the prince said.

Han's head snapped up, shocked. "What do you mean, left?"

Minho shrugged. "I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve thought about." He studied Han’s face. The way his blinks were slow, processing the words and formulating an appropriate response. He was so cute. Minho felt the need to protect him at all costs. Nothing bad could happen to Han. Minho didn’t think he could live if it did. "I’ve been thinking about it a lot more, recently." He continued.

"Is that something you want?" Han asked.

"I don’t know. Maybe." Minho ran his hands through his hair before reclining back on his hands. "I don’t want to run from my responsibilities, but at the same time, I’m not sure if being king is what I want. But I may not have that choice."

Han nodded, listening. "Could I say something rather selfish, Your Grace?" Minho looked over at Han, the dim light casting shadows across his face. "I think you would make a wonderful king. The best king this realm has had in a very long time. But I would not be mad if you decided you wanted to run from it. I can not imagine the amount of stress and pressure that must be on your shoulders." your incredibly broad, muscled, perfect shoulders. "but if you were not king, or if you left while still a prince, then I would no longer be your squire. And that would make me sad, I think."

"So come with me." Minho said, quickly. He sounded so sure of himself. Like he had thought this out already and had the plan in place. "..if i decide to go." he added. Han was stunned, his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded. And somehow Minho thought it made him even more adorable. The prince slowly inched his hand across the grass until his fingertips brushed Han’s. He ran his index finger down the length of Han’s thumb before Han pulled away. His stomach was in knots, he felt he may throw up his mutton he had for dinner.

"The sun will be up soon, Your Grace." Han said quietly. "We should go back to the inn."

And all Minho could do was admire the flush on Han’s cheeks. He wanted so badly to tell him that he has made up his mind. That they should leave, start a life together somewhere else. Somewhere where kings and queens didn’t rule, somewhere where Minho could kiss Han. Where he could openly kiss him and hold his hand and tell him just how happy he makes him. But Minho knew it was a fantasy, knew that it could never be. Minho had duties, a whole kingdom of people depending on him. He could not just run and leave them to suffer the nightmare that would surely be the rein of his brother. No, Minho must stick it out. He knew he needed to be king. But it was fun to entertain the thought of happiness, sometimes.

And with the sun peeking over the hilltop, Minho also rose, and led the way back to the inn.

----

Han had decided Westwood was a beautiful city. It was slightly smaller than the capital city where their castle was, but it was twice as beautiful. The city was covered in flowers. As far as the eye could see, flowers. Fields of lilacs and peonies, tulips and roses. Bright green vines crawled up all of the stone walls. The shops that lined the square were selling bouquets and don’t get Han stated on the smell.

"First time in Westwood?" James asked, seeing the awe on Han's face. Han nodded in response, unable to take his eyes off of the beautiful colors, but being careful to keep his horse in line. "Westwood is the main flower supplier for all of the realm." James said. "Anytime there’s a wedding, or a coronation, or birthday feast, the flowers come from here." James scrunched up his nose. "I think it reeks."

Han turned his head toward his fellow squire. "What? You hate it? How? It's so beautiful."

James rolled his eyes. "You're kind of a priss, aren't you?"

Han turned away, decided not to even respond to that comment.

If the town was beautiful, and the square was beautiful, it paled in comparison to the house they approached now. The single story stone house was sprawling. Covered in vines and flowers just like the rest of the town, but the house was very open and airy. There were so many windows with no glass, just large holes decorated with gossamer curtains that blew in the rose scented breeze. They were greeted by Lord Alexander and Lady Ere, and a young lady who Han did not know of her name but assumed her to be their daughter. Based on the way she was dressed, and the way she curtsied when the king approached, Han knew she was no servant. She had been raised well.

"Welcome, my lord, to Westwood." Alexander said, bowing, and then spreading his arms wide. The king laughed a laugh that Han didnt think him capable of. One that actually sounded.. happy. One that sounded like it originated deep in his belly.

"Alex! So good to see you, old friend." The king embraced the Lord before turning his attention to Lady Ere. He kissed her hand gently.

"I trust your trip was comfortable?" Lady Ere asked.

The queen answered her. "Oh very much so. But we are glad to have finally arrived. A week is a very long time to travel."

"Of course, of course." Alex said. "Please, do come inside out of the heat. We have dinner prepared."

And with that, the king and queen and both princes followed them inside the beautiful flower covered home. And Han rode away to feed and water his horse.

--

The servants at the Westwood home, showed the squires to their guest rooms. Unlike the inns they stayed at along the way, this house was large enough for everyone, all the members of the royal family and their squires, to have their own individual rooms. The room Han was placed in was small, but that was okay with him. He had a bed all to himself for the first time in a week. He wasn’t about to complain. He relaxed onto the soft cushion mattress and before he knew it, sleep overtook him. He only awoke to the sound of a soft knocking at his door. Bleary, his eyes cracked open. The once bright room was now overtaken with darkness. He squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust. The soft knocking happened again. Han begrudgingly hauled himself off of the bed and cracked the door open.

The prince immediately felt better after seeing Han’s face. He could tell his squire had been sleeping, his eyes barely open, his face puffy. It instantly made his heart feel lighter. It’s just what he needed. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you." Minho said.

Han stepped aside and allowed the prince to enter. "No, that’s okay, Your Grace. I was just getting up." Minho knew that was a lie, but he appreciated the way Han worried about his feelings. "Did you need something from me?" Han asked.

Minho paused for a moment, thinking. "No." he said. "No, not really. Just.." he paused again, turning to face Han, who was closing the door behind them. "Some company?" Minho finished his thought.

Han looked surprised. Minho noticed that Han often looked surprised. Like he felt that the prince would never want to voluntarily spend time with his squire. But that was not the case at all. Minho wanted to spend every single minute with Han. But it wasn’t appropriate to tell him that. Especially after the news he had just been given at dinner. Minho sat on the edge of Han’s bed, and looked up at the sleepy man. Han took a seat next to the prince, the small bed dipping under their weight causing their bodies to slide closer together. Their knees touching.

"I was thinking again about our conversation from this morning. About leaving and starting somewhere else." Minho said. Han nodded, but was unsure of what to say, so the prince continued. "It’s a wonderful fantasy. Don’t you think?"

Han did think that it would be nice to run away with Minho. To spend a life with Minho. But Han was sure that the future he was imaging was far different than the one the prince was picturing. "It does sound nice, Your Grace."

Minho sighed, he turned his head toward Han, who was looking down at his hands. "Will you ever listen to me when I say, please call me Minho?"

Han looked up and met Minho’s gaze. His eyes were intense. That was the only way that Han could describe it. They were so filled with emotion. More than one emotion for sure, but Han couldn’t place what they were. Sadness? Fear? Love?

"It would not be appropriate for me to call you anything other than your grace.. Your Grace." Han said quietly, feeling small under Minho’s stare. He couldnt tear his eyes away from the princes, though. He was captivated, enthralled. In this moment, nothing else existed for him. And Minho felt the same way. When he looked into Han’s eyes, he could see the future he so longed for. Deep in his brown iris, was a whole life that Minho could see. A whole world away from all of this princely bullshit. A simple life, with the man he loved.

The prince was leaning closer, trying to chase that life he could see. Han was busy trying to memorize all the lines of his prince's face. They had never been this close, their breath mingling together. That freckle that Han loved so much was only a few inches from his own nose. And what would he do if those noses touched? What would Han do if the prince's pouty lips met his own? Han didnt know.

Minho placed one hand on Han’s knee, the contact sending shivers through Han’s body. As the prince drew ever closer, Han knew this was a bad idea. He knew they should stop. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He didnt want to. Minho brought his other hand up and brushed some hair away from Han’s eyes, before sliding that hand to cradle Han’s head. Han was having trouble breathing now, his breaths coming in short ragged pants, his heart rate spiking.

Minho loved it when Han let out that little gasp, loved it when his cheeks turned a soft pink. But he thinks he loves it the most when he finally gets close enough.. after these long, longing days, he finally gets close enough..

Han closed his eyes, his fists clenched in his lap, as the prince finally was close enough, that their lips touched.

And it was everything Han had dreamed of. The prince's lips were soft, and warm as they moved against his own, the pressure feather light. Minho used his hold on the back of Han’s head to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Han felt his whole body relax as the prince's tongue ran along his bottom lip, the pince's hand rubbing soft circles on Han’s leg. Han thought this must be what heaven felt like. This is what the devoutly faithful meant when they said that heaven is beautiful. And Han thought he may take them up on their talk of gods if it meant he could stay in this heaven forever. In Minho’s arms for the rest of eternity.

Minho gently pushed Han, until his back hit the mattress. The prince broke the kiss, but only to move his lips to Han’s neck. he placed gentle kisses there. Minho was used to being a prince, used to having people worship him and faun over him. But in this moment, and in all future moments, all he wanted to do was worship Han. Wanted to give him everything he could ever want and more. And when the prince bit down softly on the flesh of Han’s neck, that’s when he heard it.

Han let out a soft gasp. "M-Minho.." he breathed out.

And then it clicked. Hearing his squire finally say the one thing he had been begging for this whole time, it finally brought the prince back to his senses. They can’t be doing this. This is dangerous. Minho threw himself off of the bed and across the room. His back against the cold hard stone of the wall, as Han lay on his back, flushed and panting, embarrassed.

"I- I’m sorry.." Han said quietly.

Minho's heart broke. What had he done? There was no going back from here. He promised not to make the same mistake as he did before, and now look at him.

Han sat up, his head in his hands. "I’m so sorry. I- I shouldn’t have.." Han couldn’t find the words. Minho had done this. His heart felt like a lead weight in his chest. He had made Han feel this way. Had made Han feel like he had done something wrong. Had practically begged for him to drop the honorifics and call him by his name and when he finally did.. it was so beautiful. But then Minho freaked out and now he fears he will never hear it again. And if that’s the case, then it’s what he deserves.

"They want me to marry her." Minho said bluntly. Han looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. Minho had to look away. He would not cry in front of Han. "The daughter here, Astrid. They want me to marry her. That’s what the dinner was about. What this whole trip has been about.”

Han's heart shattered some more. "oh-- oh." he stuttered. "I th-think you and the lady would make a fine match." Han said, though his voice shook.

"I told you never to lie to me, Han." Minho said quietly. He approached the squire. He knelt down on the floor in front of him. Looked up at him and used his thumbs to wipe his tears. "I don’t want to marry her." He whispered. Han sniffled. "I don’t want to, but I fear I may have no choice."

Han remained silent, holding back his tears. "I’m sorry, Han. I shouldn’t have put you through this.” He searched Han’s face, searched his eyes, no longer seeing their future there. "I’m sorry. I had a moment of weakness..” Han nodded, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

"But this has to remain a secret." Minho whispered. He leaned in and kissed Han on the cheek softly. “This has to remain a secret, and it can’t happen again.”

And with that, the prince stood and left the room, the door softly shutting behind him and Han’s heart was in pieces, littering the floor.

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[feliksyapsalot]

Alone again, naturally - Satosugu fanfic

Student Gojo Satoru has a party to celebrate another victory on a class S curse. Everyone is invited but Geto Suguru decided to stay in his room.

They have been growing apart for a while now, and Suguru felt like everyone was leaving. Gojo coming in drunk to yell at him at 4AM did not arrange things.

——————————-

This is my first ever fanfiction and I did it in english without using translation! I’m sorry if there is any mistakes, be indulgent!

It was the middle of the night. Satoru was having a blast with a few of his classmates in his room. He alone defeated a Class S curse in less than 1 hour! “This is worth celebrating!!” he said loudly in every single classroom. He sneaked in alcohol and a cake from Shibuya, from the greatest bakery he found. Everyone knew his love for sweets, and before they could even take a second slice, he had eaten the whole cake. There were laughs, smiles, sparkly eyes, and drunk teenagers all tightly compressed in this small bedroom. Even the headmaster knew about it but decided not to do anything because: “Hell! A Class S in less than an hour!”

This was the best night for everyone except for Geto, who was trying to sleep next door. Trying was a big word, as he had been trying for months now. Big eye bags were marking his skin, and his usually tan skin was growing paler. When Gojo invited everyone, he invited him too, but he didn’t like how he did it. He treated him like a common school kid, not his best friend. He didn’t come up to him and say, between laughs and jokes, how great his party was going to be and how much he would like to see him there. No. It was just a brief glance in his direction and this smile, this stupid idiotic fake smile he used for the common people. He was part of the common people.

He did fewer missions than him; he was getting weak. Nobody knew the taste he had to endure each time he won a fight. When Gojo wins, he ends up with little to no bruises and the sweet taste of victory. When Geto wins? It’s the taste of vomit. It’s the taste of the mint toothpaste he frenetically brushes on his tongue to rid of. Usually, it was Gojo who brought sweets to the mission. Typical sweet tooth. Now that they did their missions separately, it was just the taste of trash. Of disgust.

After a few hours, the noise died down, finally. It was, what, 4 am? Gojo waved goodbye to the few friends leaving and told everyone it was okay; he didn’t want anyone to clean! After all, the strongest can take care of himself! He sat down on his bed with a dreamy smile as he looked at the cigarettes that were left on the cake box, and even the gift Nanami solemnly bought to encourage him to do better. There was no saying; he really was the best at everything, even making friends. Friends… friends… Someone was missing, though, right? Why didn’t Geto come? He frowned and started scratching his head. Geto was living literally next door; couldn’t he get up to say hi? What was up with this guy? He got up immediately and started pacing in his room, cleaning everything while thinking hard.

Was he upset that they weren’t on missions together? Sure, he could understand that, but he can’t do anything about it. He has to admit that it’s less fun without his best friend smiling at his stupid jokes and teasing Utahime with him each time he had to save her; and sure, he missed going to get crepes after the missions with him. Oh, and he missed sneaking outside in the center of town to go dance in some clubs… But he couldn’t do anything about it! He’s literally not at fault here! Geto was always waiting for Satoru to make the first move, to ask him to do something fun! But he is busy now, and Tokyo needs him. He needs to get even stronger than he is already, especially with what happened with… what was his name again… Toji Zenin. “I’m literally Batman…” He whispered with a chuckle.

Geto was sulking? Good for him! Maybe, in time, he will learn not to think everyone owes him. He got more and more angry as there was nothing to clean anymore. He was just sitting on his bed, still clothed, more than drunk, wide awake, and getting more and more angry with this whole situation. Oh, and hell. He’s going to speak about it to him. Right now.

Geto jumped when he heard his door being slammed open. He was ready to pull out a curse when he recognized the white hair and the sunglasses. He sighed, trying to calm down his fast-beating heart, and was about to ask what’s going on before he was cut off by a very drunk-sounding voice. “What the fuck is your problem, Suguru?” “I’m sorry?” “Don’t act so dumb. Why didn’t you come to congratulate me?”

As he was speaking, Gojo was walking closer to his bed. Well, walking was a great word; he was more like awkwardly putting a leg in front of the other. Geto was silent, muted by confusion. What was his deal?

“I was tired.”

It wasn’t really a lie.

“Yeah? Fuck this dude; you could have just waved hello.”

He sighed as he sat up on his bed. Gojo was standing in front of him, his arms standing straight against his slim body. There was the soft moonlight hitting his pale hair and skin, and making his eyes softly shine. He was pretty. It was annoying.

“Satoru, come on… you’re obviously drunk. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

“Nu-uh. Let’s talk now, or you’re going to run away next time.”

There was an awkward silence. Satoru sniffed and sat down on Geto’s desk chair. They were looking at each other like dogs about to jump at each other’s throat.

“Look, man-“ started Geto. “No, I talk first actually. I feel like ever since I became stronger than you, you’ve been acting all weird and jealous. You victimize yourself; you don’t even go on missions. What? What’s next? You’re gonna go on a hunger strike because Satoru Gojo is too busy actually being useful for the town? While your selfish attitude is making you stay in your room to smoke cigarettes?”

Geto frowned; he was genuinely hurt. His heart was about to explode from his chest out of anger and embarrassment.

“Are you implying the reason I don’t go to missions is because I’m jealous of you?”

He sat up, closing his fist really hard.

“You know nothing of me, Satoru, nothing. You don’t know what I’m living, what I’m thinking, and what I’m doing. Especially now that you’ve decided to become some egocentric prick that doesn’t even ask me how I’m doing when you see me.”

He rubbed his forehead with his thumb, obviously stressed and pissed off.

“You come into my room in the middle of the night, and you say I’m selfish all while you’re drunk. Do you not have an ounce of respect for me?”

Satoru opened his mouth, about to say something, but he got caught by a choke on air. He frowned his eyebrows and readjusted his sunglasses, getting up again and going on a drunk blabber.

“Fuck you, fuck you for thinking I owe you shit. I don’t owe shit to anyone. You think so highly of yourself; it’s so annoying. I don’t always have to hang out with you, shit! I don’t even have to talk to you. I can stop perceiving you if I want, and it’s my right! Stop thinking like you deserve a different treatment!”

His eyes widened at his words. First, his brain tried to smooth the situation, thinking he was drunk, there was no way he meant any of this. But his gut was burning, and it was only a matter of time until he suddenly got up and grabbed Gojo’s shirt by the neck. They stayed like this for a few seconds, which seemed to be hours. Geto’s eyes were burning by the tiredness but also by how painful the words were. Did he mean nothing to him anymore? Did he mean anything to anyone?

Gojo was looking at him with this shit-eating grin and sparkly eyes. His sunglasses fell on the floor, and for a moment, Geto could feel himself getting lost in his irises. They stayed the same, so blue, so bright, almost like they could glow in the dark. This is what hurt the most. Gojo became an entirely different person, but the eyes he loved oh, so much staring into were the same. A simple glimpse into those brought back so many unwanted memories in the space of a second, of them talking in bed late at night. Of them laughing together, spending time together alone, with no one else around them. Gojo’s blue eyes were the only thing that existed in these moments.

This sudden dive into memories pissed him off enormously.

So, without thinking, he threw a punch at his cheek. His eyes widened because it actually landed. Gojo still had his Infinity turned off even though he was arguing with him? Why?

When the white-haired boy fell on the floor, Suguru started stuttering some excuses, realizing he fucked up. But Satoru was starting to get up and gave him back the same punch this time straight in his ex-best friend’s nose. It drew out blood.

The next ten minutes were spent struggling on the floor while trying to fight. One was too drunk to effectively hit, and the other was too sad and tired to hit hard. It was just a pathetic twister party, filled with groans, gasps, and insults.

They played fight before, in the training field. “Just brutal force, no sorcerer abilities!” had stated Gojo. It was just something boys do, trying to prove who is the strongest, sometimes finishing with a nose bleed or a chapped lip. Their banter all while it happened was also some strong words, but in the end, it finished with whoever was on top to block the one on the bottom and making them admit they lost. It depended on the day of who was where. But now there wasn’t any technique of fighting, no laughs. It was just regret.

It ended eventually when Gojo felt something cold hitting his cheek. Geto, who was on top of him, had started crying, either out of regret or rage… or both. He wasn’t done, though, and still trying to pull at Gojo’s hair or hit him. Gojo, who still hadn’t activated his Infinity, stared at him with wide-open eyes. Eventually, Suguru stopped trying to fight, noticing Satoru wasn’t moving anymore, just staring at him. It all came crashing down on him, more tears escaping from his eyes. He truly was alone. Even his best friend hated him now; he considered him a weakling. He couldn’t even kill this… this monkey that shot Riko. He couldn’t do anything. He was such a loser.

Gojo managed to extract himself from underneath Geto’s legs. The other boy was too busy sobbing in his hands, anyway. There was a hint of guilt that washed over him. At least Geto was feeling bad for being so selfish? He thought. He must be tired… Come to think of it, he doesn’t eat much lately. Or come out of his room.

He stared at his friend with confused empathy and awkwardness, trying to reach him while wiping his bloody nose. He put a hand on the back of Geto’s head and brought him on his shoulder. The other boy resisted.

Suguru didn’t want any pity.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru awkwardly muttered before standing up the best he could. He picked his broken sunglasses from the floor and walked to the door.

Suguru looked at him leaving, trying to form the word “Stay..” but it didn’t. His pained expression turned into rage, as he held himself in a ball to calm himself down. Gojo was an asshole; he didn’t want to see any of him anymore. He hated him. He was the only one left, and he abandoned him over pride and success. He never wanted to see him again. He never wanted to see anyone again. Sorcerers were all full of shit.

He finished sobbing after ten minutes and climbed on his bed. He will stay there for a few days, sometimes going out to exorcise curses if asked to. All the time wishing this painful routine will end soon.

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Eight

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

This chapter contains an explicit sex scene(s)

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight:

“What the fuck were you thinkin?” Raylan yelled down at Elenora. She was sat in a chair in the conference room of the Marshal’s office. Her dad’s hat sat on the table as he ran a hand through his hair in anger.

“I just...” Elenora began, but her father cut her off before she could continue.

“You weren’t thinking, were you? You lied, to get you into a secure room with a felon Elenora.” Elenora dipped her chin down and glanced to the side of the room where she could see Art, Tim and Rachel standing on the other side in hushed conversation, obviously trying to be discrete as they listened. “Don’t look at them. They won’t help you. What if Boyd’s men were watching the hospital? What if one of them knew who you were? They could use you, Elenora, take you and barter you for Boyd.”

Elenora’s head shot back to look at her father. “He wanted to shoot you. He wanted to kill you, and you weren’t going to tell me!” She eyed her father, and he held her gaze without a blink. The tension in the room was intense, and she was sure those outside the room felt it as well.

“How did you find out about what happened? I told Art I wanted to keep you out of this.”

“I saw Ava. She told me what happened, told me she invited you over for dinner too?”

“That is none of your concern.”

Elenora’s butt was off the chair before she even knew what she was doing. “Yes, it is dad! You come back here, and right away it’s like living in Miami all over again. You not telling me things, talking about how keeping me in the dark is keeping me safe? What next? You gonna tell me I need to leave Lexington?”

The fire was raging in her now. Elenora loved her father, but he liked to use his job as an excuse to decide for her. Like what brought her out to Lexington in the first place.

“Maybe you should.” Said Raylan, his voice now just barley over a whisper. His eyes losing their anger and now holding a look of loss.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!” Elenora threw a finger out to point at her father. “Do not give me the puppy dog eyes. I will not up and move my whole life. I’ve just moved into an apartment. I have a job waiting for me and you know what-yes dad, I am seeing someone. Want to know why I didn’t want to tell you, because of this! You tell me you want the best for me, and that I can come to you with anything, but I can’t even tell you about the man I’m in love with because you will probably try to shoot him.” Dropping her arm, Elenora’s shoulders sagged as she realized what had just tumbled out of her, and it took everything in her body to not turn and look at Tim.

Raylan’s eyes became enormous and his mouth opened as no words came out. Several seconds passed and Elenora was pretty sure the room’s temperature had increased by twenty degrees. Finally Raylan’s lips moved, this time accompanied by sound. “How long has this been going on for?”

“A couple weeks.”

“A COUPLE WEEKS! Elenora, that isn’t love, the excitement of something new.” Said Raylan as he picked up his hat and shoved it onto his head.

“See, there you go again! Not wanting to listen, but just tellin’ me how it is.” Elenora grabbed her bag, which she had sat on the table when she first entered and put one foot in front of the other as she moved to the door to the conference room and threw it open.

“Elenora...” Raylan called out from behind her back. It was a plea for her to stay, but Elenora was having none of it. She stormed past the three Marshal’s and out to the hall. Forgoing the elevator, she headed straight for the stairs and left the building once she reached the bottom.

Meanwhile, back in the Marshal’s office, Raylan moved out of the conference room to stand with the rest of the team. “I wouldn’t actually shoot the guy,” Said Raylan was a sag of his shoulders.

“You sure about that?” Asked Art, as he the old man looked from the door to his friend.

“Maybe graze, but not like I’d shoot to kill.”

“If you were my father, I wouldn’t want to tell you about my love life, either.” Said Rachel with a huff before she walked away back to her desk.

“She’s my little girl. I lost so many years with her. I just want to keep her safe.”

Tim sighed and looked at the two men next to him. “I hate to tell you this Raylan, but that woman, she doesn’t look like no little girl needing your protection. Now if ya’ll will excuse me, I have some paperwork to finish.”

Elenora was shaking. She had never talked to her father that way, but maybe it was a long time coming. She had just wished Tim had not been there for the whole thing. Elenora knew it was stupid to see her Uncle but it was something she felt like she needed to do. It was like closure to her, seeing him that one last time. Now all she wanted to do was call Tim, but she knew that until he reached out to her, which would probably not happen while he was still in the office.

She spent the rest of her day picking up her key copies and hanging around at one of the coffee shops with a book she had popped into her work to purchase. Eventually she was disturbed from her reading by her phone vibrating, telling her she had a message.

Tim: Where might I be finding you?

Elenora: Old School Coffee, on Maxwell

Tim: Be there soon.

It was a about twenty minutes later and Elenora saw a figure brush past her and sit down in the chair across from her. Picking up a napkin from the table, she shoved it between the pages of her book and closed the cover. “So how pissed was he?”

“Think he actually was pretty remorseful for what he had said.” Tim slouched slightly in the chair and stuck his legs out straight as he got comfy. “Threatened to graze me with a bullet, though.”

Elenora’s eyes went wide. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

“No. The threat of a bullet makes a man keep his mouth shut.” Tim smiled at her from across the table. “Do think he might have a suspicion, though? Followed me for a bit when I left, lost him in a parking lot.”

“Great.” Elenora slid her phone and book into her bag. Looking at Tim, she examined him in his laid back appearance and a smirk on his face as he stared at her. “What’s that look for?”

“Just judging by your father’s reputation, I shouldn’t be surprised that you did the opposite of what I told you to do. You’re lucky that he didn’t have people watchin’ the hospital.”

Folding her hands together and placing them on the table, Elenora leaned back in her seat. “He told me he was sorry. That he had seen the error of his ways and hoped that I would forgive him one day for everything he’d done.”

“Sounds about right for a man that nearly died,” Said Tim matter-of-factly. “Which is why you are going to decide now, if you want to eat before or after the range.”

“After. I had a bite to eat when I got here.” Tim stood from his chair and Elenora did the same. “Thanks for not being mad at me, by the way.”

Tim stepped forward towards her and leaned in with his lips to her ear. “Oh, I’m fucking furious.”

“What you gonna take me over your knee, Marshal?” Elenora whispered as she side eyed Tim and raised her brow.

The corner of his lips rose, and the look sent a shiver down Elenora’s spine, and she felt her thigh muscles clench involuntarily. “Now that is a thought that will keep me hard the rest of the day.”

“Wait till you see me with a pistol.” Elenora responded quickly and with a smirk of her own.

Letting out a groan, Tim straightened up and eyed Elenora down his nose. “We better get going before I make the people here real uncomfortable.” Tim’s hand reached out, and she felt the palm of his hand on the small curve at her lower back. With a gentle push, he led her to the door, out onto the street and towards his SUV. However, when they got there, he did not open the door for her as usual, but instead put his hands to her hips, pushed her against the door of the SUV, and encased her lips with his own.

Elenora’s hands found their way to the open edges of Tim’s coat. She fisted the material tightly in her palms as Tim pushed his hips into hers, effectively trapping her between himself and the door. She could feel everything about him as he molded himself to her. His lips were soft on her own, but his kiss had a pressure that she was sure would cause her lips to bruise. Hands were splayed out across her in a manner that made her believe Tim wanted to touch as much of her as he could. And then there were his hips. Firmly pressed up to her own, the words he had spoken in the coffee shop only a minute prior clear as she felt a hardness against her inner thigh. “Tim...” Elenora moaned as she pulled her lips away from the man before her. She did not loosen her hold on him as she looked him in the eyes. “Perhaps I am a little hungry, after all.”

“I know a place.” Tim huffed out before moving his nose towards her own and kissing her once again. This kiss only lasted a moment before he pulled away once again, this time removing his hands from her as he went.

Tim helped her into the SUV and, when both were ready to go, Tim drove them out of town towards the southeast. Eventually he pulled the SUV over onto a dirt road after a few minutes of leaving Lexington and he maneuvered the vehicle down into a wooded area where there was a small cabin. It looked as though if there was a strong wind, the whole thing would topple over. Without a word, Tim got out of the SUV and moved around to the passenger side, and opened the door for Elenora. He held out a hand to her, and she just looked at it and then up at Tim. “Tim, I’m not fucking you in there.”

“I was thinking more about the back of the SUV. We took this place in a few weeks ago. Federal property now, so no one should disturb us.”

Taking his hand, Elenora exited the SUV, and then Tim was on her, not even bothering to shut the door.

One of his hands moved up and into her hair and the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him. Reaching out behind her, Elenora gripped the door handle to the backseat and pulled it open as she continued to kiss Tim. Once there was access to the back seats, Tim wrapped his hands around her ass and hoisted her up. His lips moving from her down her neck and onto the exposed skin on her chest.

His kisses sent fire throughout Elenora’s body, and her legs tightened around his waist in response. Using her leverage, she ground her hips into his and Tim’s lips retracted from her skin as he let out a moan. The hot air from his breath hitting her skin and cooling quickly, enticing a shiver from Elenora. “Tim...” His name left her lips as a whisper and quickly she found herself tossed into the back of the SUV with Tim climbing on tip of her.

Hands pulled at the buttons on her jeans and soon she was lifting her ass so that the garment could be removed from her hips, along with her underwear. Her skin scratched against the fiber of the seat and a breeze that had snuck in from the open door hit her wetness, dramatically changing her temperature. Tim stood awkwardly above her as he then undid his own slacks and pushed both them and his briefs down, releasing his stiff and pointed member from its confines.

Elenora was impressed that he had kept his composure for as long as he had on the drive, but he did not strike her as the asking for a blowjob in the car type. Plus, he always seemed to care about her enjoyment as much as his own. This was proven to her yet again as his hand moved to her pelvis and a finger pushed against the nub that was currently a surging bundle of nerves. Her back arched and her head went back as Tim slowly and stroked his finger into her. Then he did it again, and her eyes closed and what little her toes could curl while in her boots did.

Leaning himself over, Tim brought his face to hers and placed his free hand under her head, causing her eyes to look back at him. “Is this what the thought of me spanking you does? I don’t think I’ve ever had you so wet.”

“Tim...” His name left her lips in a whine, and he just responded with a smile. Lips were on hers again and she could feel Tim moving around on top of her as his hand left her. It was only a second before she felt the tip of his erection sliding along her folds, and then with a gentle thrust he was inside her.

“I love you, Nell.” Tim whispered in a shaky breath as he placed her head down on the seat next to hers. His body covering hers like a blanket. It felt a lot like the first night they were together when he hadn’t lasted long. The rigidness of his body telling her he was again holding himself back, thinking about each move he made before he would make it.

“You can let go, Tim.” Elenora watched from the corner of her eyes as Tim’s head lifted and his eyes connected with hers. “I trust you.”

It seemed those were the words he needed, as something in his eyes changed. He looked down at her for a few moments, and then a grunt left his chest. Then, with a force she had yet to experience, Tim pulled his hips back, pulling himself from her almost all the way and then slammed back into her. The hand that was in her hair curled around her strands and pulled with a tightness she was sure would be sore later. His hips slammed against her own and she could feel the length of him hit deep within her, causing a gasp to come from her lips, before he did it again. It was rough, and as he slammed into her, she could feel herself sliding ever so slightly on the seat, but the pressure of Tim’s body on top of hers did not allow her to go far.

There was something primal in the way he fucked her today, and to her surprise, she liked it. Elenora felt as though Tim was staking his claim to her, his body telling her she was his and his alone. “Tim...”

The pleasure inside her was building and on his next trust, she focused on tightening her core, and Tim responded with a deep moan, before slamming into her even harder and faster. The pace quickening made it feel as though he was a jackhammer and she was the concrete. Until suddenly his body clenched around her and she could feel the spasm of him inside her causing her own pleasure to build, and as if Tim could sense what she needed he gave a few quick deep thrusts into her till she felt her own muscles grow taught and a delighted scream left her lips.

They laid there, Tim on top of her as they both breathed deeply to bring themselves back down, him still inside her. Elenora allowed him to take his time and soon she heard him let out a sigh as he pulled himself from her and slid out of the SUV. Pushing her hips up, Elenora slid her underwear and jeans back up and fastened them before sliding her way out of the back of the SUV.

When her feet hit the ground, she found Tim pants on with his hands behind his back, leaning on the side of his vehicle. His eyes were focused out into the woods that surrounded them.

“Tim?” Elenora watched him and when he did not answer, she took a step towards him. “Tim, you don’t need to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Just tell me if you’re good.”

“I’m good.” He whispered while continuing his stare. “After the range, I think I should go to one of those meetings. Mind dropping me off after?”

“Whatever you need,” Said Elenora with a smile.

Nothing was said between the abandoned cabin and the range. Elenora thought it best to let Tim be in his thoughts for a time. When they were in the parking lot and the SUV was off, Tim finally turned to look at Elenora. “I know I have no right to be telling you what you can and cannot do, but when I found out you had gone to see Crowder... for a second I saw you laying there, bleedin’ out on some floor. I hadn’t felt like that since the sandbox. Watchin’ as my friend bled out next to me after taking a sniper shot.”

“But I’m fine right. I’m here with you right now. I can’t imagine knowing how you feel, or what something like that does to a person. Just know that those thoughts, you aren’t the only one having them. I see my Daddy dead more often than I like, and now when you walk out that door I imagine every worse case that could lead to me never seeing you again.” Elenora reached out for Tim but did not touch him and instead left her palm up near his thigh. “I’m here, Tim. Whatever you need, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Tim raised his hand and put it in hers before setting them both on his leg. “You some fallen angel or something?”

“Careful, all this praise from you is gonna’ start going to my head. Now, am I limited to just hand guns here or can you teach me how to fire a rifle? Daddy never would let me fire one before.”

“I’m gonna need better back seats.”

“And at least a box of Kleenex. Because I’m gonna be real impressed if I haven’t soaked through my pants. One downfall of no condoms, you stick around Gutterson.” A groan left Tim and his eyes closed, and Elenora was sure he was trying to decide if he should feel bad or turned on because he was dripping out of her. “So please tell me this place has a washroom for me to clean up.”

Opening his eyes, Tim looked at her with a frown. “I didn’t even think. There are spare clothes in the back. I could have given you something to clean up with.”

“Well, let’s remember that for next time, but right now I need to clean up these little Tims before it looks like I’ve peed myself.”

Tim let out another groan. “Please don’t refer to them as little Tims. Makes me want to wrap it, cause the thought of you getting pregnant scares the shit out of me more than any Taliban.”

Chapter Nine

[monsterrae1]

20 17

Kat! 🖤 thank you so much! I’m gonna put number 17 in here and then I’ll do a post for number 20 on the date! Hope you like it, it’s a little angsty and a little sweet 🖤

17. Miracle

Having a second kid had been something that had been on their minds for the last year.

It started after Maddie and Chim announced they were expecting again, and Buck saw the wistful look on Eddie’s face every time they visited the Buckley-Hans and Maddie had new scans or new things to share with them; sometimes, when he saw that look on Eddie’s face – his shinny brown eyes, and the small smile tugging at the side of his lips – as he looked at their future niece or nephew, he wished he could somehow have kids for him, but unless a bunch of fanfiction suddenly became true, Buck couldn’t bear them a child.

Six months after they got married Eddie finally brough it up, they had just gotten back home from dropping Chris off at a sleepover, and when they parked the truck on their driveway Eddie took a deep breath, turned to Buck and said:

“I want a baby, Buck”

Buck smiled and told him “Me too”

They fucked that night as if that would get them a baby, full of passion and love.

And the next morning they came back to reality and Buck threw himself to one of his research binges.

He quickly learnt that surrogacy, which was the safest option if they wanted to have a baby, was expensive as hell, and with their city salaries combined, a kid on his way to high school, a mortgage and many other grown-up bills, they probably wouldn't be able to afford it. Adoption, which was the most probable option for them, could take years, especially if they wanted a younger kid and while they were open to adopting an older kid, they really wanted a baby.  Fostering, like Hen and Karen did, just seemed like it would break Buck's heart, he just knew that at the end of a single day with any kid, he wouldn't be able to give them back without breaking his heart. 

After weeks and weeks of trying to come up with plans it, after having been put in a waiting list in an adoption agency, after filling they license with the state for emergency foster placement - Buck was working his way up to permanent fostering, but for right now they mostly had kids who needed somewhere to sleep and be placed somewhere permanent in the morning - their heart was still set in a baby for themselves.

"At this point, I think we might just need a miracle" Eddie said one night, tired of wrangling teenagers all afternoon since they had hosted Christopher's friends for a sleepover "Or give up" 

Buck frowned "We're not giving up" they were cleaning the living room, the kids were already in Chris' room, loudly playing video games "It'll happen for us Eds, we just have to wait" 

Eddie smiled at him, leaving the empty pizza boxes on top of the coffee table and walked to Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning up to kiss him "Babe" Eddie said softly "I don't want you to get your hopes up again, I don't want your heart to break again" 

They had had a nearly success with the adoption agency, a teenager who was giving up their kid had chosen them, but changed her mind at the last moment, Buck cried for days, Eddie did too. 

"I won't, I promise I won't get my hopes up until we have a birth certificate signed" 

Eddie smiled and shook his head, kissing his husband again. 

*

The second week of December someone knocked on their door just past 2 AM; they had just gotten back from work and they were exhausted, Eddie had almost just crashed into their bed, but Buck had dragged him to the bathroom to at least wash his face and brush his teeth, if hadn't been for that, he would've missed the desperate knocking on the door. 

"Buck, did you order something?" 

It wasn't uncommon that Buck sometimes ordered in something on their way back so it would arrive just as they did, but Buck shook his head "No? I don't have any calls from Rachel either" Rachel was the social worker who handled their usual emergency placements. 

Confused and exhausted, Eddie just walked to the door and opened to find out what ever it was that was on the other side of the door. He was even more confused when he opened it and there was no one on the other side, no one even on their driveway. 

"What the..." his words were interrupted by a cry, a small baby cry, coming from the floor. He looked down and found a baby tucked into a picnic basket, a letter on top and wrapped in blankets. Eddie picked the basket up and then quickly walked inside telling Buck to call Athena and Rachel to meet them at the hospital. 

"What? Why?" 

"Someone just dropped a new born in our doorstep, Buck" 

Buck moved quick after that, calling Rachel first while Eddie told Christopher what had happen and to not open the door for anyone else while they were out, Eddie placed the baby very carefully in the baby seat they had had to have installed in one of their trucks in case they needed it, and tried to leave the rest of the basket undisturbed, in case it needed to be taken in for evidence. Buck called Athena on their way to the hospital, and Eddie somehow found himself wishing for the baby to be okay, trying to quiet down the part of his brain that screamed at him that this was their baby. 

Buck, thankfully, thought to call ahead to the hospital, so when they parked on the emergency bay, they were met with the neonatal team who took the unknown baby from them almost right away, while Eddie grabbed the basket and waited for Rachel and Athena in the waiting room.

"Eddie" Buck said softly, eyeing the envelope in the basket with their names on it "Eddie, what if they..."

"Buck, remember what we said? about getting our hopes up?" Eddie interrupted, he couldn't let Buck get his hopes up, his own and Eddie's.

"I know, I know, but… this feels different, doesn't it?" 

Before Eddie could respond, both Rachel and Athena walked into the room. 

They went through everything that happen twice, they told them everything that had happen in the last 30 minutes, and gave Athena access to their security system for her to check their cameras, and then turned to Rachel. 

"There's an envelope, we don't know what's in it, but it's addressed to us" Buck said, bringing attention back to it, Athena had taken the rest of the things in the basket "Can we read it?" 

"It is addressed to you guys, so you're within your rights to do so" Rachel answered, and Eddie had never seen Buck open something so fast and so carefully at the same time. He waited patiently as Buck read it, and then as he read it again, before he was pushing the papers towards Eddie.

“Read it, Eds, you have to read it”

Eddie took the papers from Buck’s hand and read it himself. It wasn’t signed by anyone they knew, Eddie didn’t recognize the nickname they used, but the letter pretty much said that they knew they were good people, and that they wanted a baby, the mother explained that she wouldn’t ever be able to give the kid a good life but she wanted them to have her, to raise her as their own, she was giving them her daughter.

“Rachel, this…” Eddie’s hands shook as he handed Rachel the letter “She says she wants her to be ours”

Eddie was trying really hard to not get his hopes up, but it was hard, he knew a letter couldn’t be a legal binding document, but this could be their daughter, theirs, to take home, and raise, and love.

Rachel took a deep breath “This is a mess” Eddie felt his heart break, and reached for Buck’s hand “I don’t want you guys to think you can keep her, okay? But there might be a chance you can”

Eddie felt Buck’s hand squeezing his tight.

They didn't take the baby home that day, they had driven home almost at 5 am after the hospital assured them the baby was stable, being looked after but she couldn't be released back to them until social services determined what was going to happen with her; they understood, they did, but they still drove home with a heavy heart. 

It was a battle after that, but they were willing to right for their kid - because ever since reading the letter they both felt like she was theirs - it was a lot of meetings with Rachel and the social worker assigned to the baby; she was so young, the doctors had determined she was only a few hours old when she had been dropped at their door step, and no matter how much they tried to find the mother, they never did, nor did an existing birth certificate. 

It was Christmas Eve morning when they got the call, Rachel told them to meet her at the hospital and to bring a bag for the baby; they grabbed it - Buck had had it packed for days now - and rushed to the hospital to meet Rachel. There had been a hearing with a judge a couple of days ago, Buck and Eddie had made their case, and Rachel assured them that while the letter didn't have any legal weight, it could be used as proof that the birthmother wanted them to have her kid.

"Is she ours? For real ours?" Buck asked as they walked in, his hand tightly wrapped around Eddie's "She's coming home with us?" 

Rachel smiled "She is officially yours" She then handed them her birth certificate, while both her birth parents were listed as unknown, there was an even bigger stack of papers underneath "You just have to name her, and sign the adoption papers" 

"Milagro" Eddie said right away "Millie, for short" 

Buck smiled and nodded, agreeing with Eddie right away, and asking for a pen so they could sign the papers already. 

It was still a couple of more hours, Rachel had filed their adoption papers just in time before the offices closed down for the holidays, and on Christmas eve they got to drive home with their new addition. 

Next morning, Eddie found Buck in the nursery, softly rocking Millie as she fell back asleep.

"Hey" Eddie said softly, walking to them and wrapping himself around Buck, rubbing Millie's cheek slowly with this thumb. 

“You named her Milagro” Buck said softly “Miracle”

Eddie hummed, eyes lost in the soft breathing of their daughter in Buck’s arms “She is our little miracle, coming to us just when we needed her”

He saw Buck smiling from the corner of his eyes “She really did” Eddie smiled and kissed Buck’s cheek “Do you think Chris’ going to like getting a sister for Christmas?”

“He’s gonna love her”

[darkeraurora]

Admissions - Chapter 4

Minors DNI pretty please.

A slight trigger warning for unstable/abusive parents. Nothing graphic but for those of us who had or have verbally abusive parents you might choose to skip over the parts in bold italics.

For the past two days Ghost had been holed up in his room following his little moment on the rooftop and couldn't be cajoled into leaving.

Gaz tried.

Price tried.

Soap tried.   Twice.   And very narrowly avoided having a short-tempered lieutenant rip his head off the second time.

The others around base seemed to take their cue from Soap's experience and avoided the area around Ghost's door.

Mostly.

"Really not a good idea!" a familiar Scottish accent hollered from down the corridor, earning a cocked eyebrow from the masked lieutenant. He focused his hearing... must be about 10 meters or so down the hall from the sound of it. Footsteps were rapidly approaching; light ones at first followed by heavier ones running to catch up.

Soap's evidently, judging by the continuous shouted warnings. Fucking hell. Ghost felt his irritation rising at the notion of yet another intrusion into his space. Whoever was about to interrupt his alone time had better be on fire or something. That was about the only circumstance in which he could see himself being understanding.

Someone opened his door without knocking and caused the lieutenant to squint as light flooded his darkened room. But once he focused on the small figure in his room, clad in a dark hoodie and leggings, all annoyance faded into nervousness.

His heart began to race in his chest at her approach. Ohhh shit. Simon was not ready to face her yet after his rooftop fantasy... and here she was in his fucking room. Ghost tensed, braced for an intense ass-chewing as her little steps quickly brought her closer to him.

Without making eye contact or saying a single word, Sereza marched over to where the skull sat on his bed, plopped down next to him, kicked off her shoes, and leaned back against the wall just as he was.

Simon's eyebrows furrowed in a mix of amused bewilderment.

"...come in." he quipped.

Sereza didn't say a word or look his way. Her hand wriggled inside her pocket for a moment before a bottle of water was practically shoved in his face. Two days in this drab, sunless den of his without coming out even to eat was enough, and she had come to pry him out of his brooding spot no matter the cost. Gently, of course. If her theories about the lieutenant and what went on in that masked head were correct, then this called for a delicate approach.

"Hm," the skull grumbled, taking the water from her lest she shove it through his eye socket next. 

Only once she produced her own bottle and cracked it open did he reluctantly do the same. Thanks Love. Ghost bit the inside of his cheek in exasperation at his inability to say such a simple little phrase aloud. But the ever-present voice of his father screaming at him and mocking him wouldn't let Simon utter a sound. Something about him being pitiful and a sorry excuse for a kid or whatever it was.

Ghost tramped it back down, refusing to let the memories of his father ruin a moment with Sereza.

The next few minutes ticked by, and Ghost found his mood gradually improving. He stole another sideways glance over at the black hoodie at his side. "You're in my room," he grumbled half-heartedly. A small attempt to start a conversation.

"Smartass," she retorted without turning her face.

Simon chuckled at her response. Even cracked a small half-smile. She could be such fun to bicker with. "Why are you in my room?"

"A few reasons: First of all, you've been alone in this gloomy hidey-hole -"

"Hidey-hole??"

"- of yours for two days now. And secondly, because I wanted to." Scolding words but her tone told him there was no irritation behind them, only concern. The last one actually made him crack a tiny smile. She was here with him - in his room, on his bed - because she wanted to be where he was. Just as Price had said.

The two sat in comfortable (if somewhat awkward on his part) silence a while longer. Both lost in the thoughts and worlds that existed only in their heads.

"Were you mad at me?" Sereza finally asked in a quiet voice.

"What?" Ghost nearly croaked, surprised at her question.

"Well, you kinda took off all of a sudden, in a hurry, and..." her head turned in his direction a bit, though not enough to reveal her face, "And then you shut yourself in your room for two days. So... I started to think maybe I said or did something that made you mad."

That was unexpected, to say the least. If anyone was going to be mad, she should be mad at him. And probably would be if she ever found out about his fantasy... or had seen what it did to the front of his pants.

Simon felt guilty. He'd been in his... hidey-hole... over his mortification and shame over a fucking daydream (even if it was really hot) but in doing so he'd accidentally hurt the woman he loved by making her think he was angry with her. He silently cursed the way his mind worked for the umpteenth time before gathering his courage.

He brushed his knuckles delicately along the back of Sereza's hand. "No Sereza, I wasn't ever mad at you," his low baritone soothed, "My mind is... complicated... sometimes. I'm sorry I made you think I was angry with you."

"Why did you scurry off so quickly?"

Scurry?? Ghost had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the implication that he, of all people, scurried.

"I don't, uh, I don't always have a good explanation for what I do." Simon hoped that was enough of an answer. It was about as close to honest as he could get without telling her the entire truth. Something he was very much not ready to do. His hand kept rubbing hers as he tried to convey through his touch how much he regretted making her feel that way.

Finally Sereza acknowledged his attempt at an apology by returning the gesture. Simon's breath caught in his throat for a moment as her fingertips began lazily tracing the lines of his tattooed forearm. He found her touch both electrifying and relaxing. "Why have you been hiding in here all of this time?"

"Still don't have a good explanation... just had a lot on my mind," his gravelly voice mumbled as he kept his eyes focused on her fingers. Her hand looked so little compared to his large one. The touch of her fingers light and comforting against his skin. A sensation both precious and unfamiliar.

Ghost wished the rest of the night could be just like this moment.

Sereza seemed to accept that would be all he was willing to share for now and her attention turned to rummaging in her hoodie once more, producing a pencil and sketchbook. "Bloody hell Little one, how much shit do you have in there?"

 "Only the most important shit," she replied with a snarky tone, tossing her hood back and running a hand through her caramel waves. 

She flipped through the filled pages of her book. The drawings caught Simon's attention like they always did. A moose with giant antlers, bears, the river not far away, and faces of people from around the base - most of whom he didn't recognize - with random doodles and scribbles scattered throughout. All of them in astounding detail. The night's quiet filled his room again while he contentedly watched her pencil glide over the page in practiced strokes to create the outline of a face. Tiny scratching noises of graphite on paper were the only sound between them. The lieutenant was actually having a peaceful evening for once. Certainly a rare but not unwelcome change.

“You sketch a lot," he whispered, dark eyes fixed on her page.

“Can’t sleep a lot. What about you?”

“Barely fucking sleep,” Ghost grumbled.

There it is. An admission to what she had suspected. Sereza knew better than most others what dark thoughts could creep into a person's mind at night. They could torment you to the brink of insanity and drive you into the darkest holes the human mind could create. The kind that are only open to those who have experienced the worst that life can inflict on someone.

Her battles had made her able to recognize the signs of someone who was suffering through their own. Someone whose nightmares visited them both day and night without mercy.

Like the masked lieutenant beside her.

What exactly those nightmares were, she was unsure of. But it was clear they were ruthless in their assault. “It sucks that our minds can be so much more active at night, doesn’t it? Mine won’t shut the hell up most of the time," Sereza replied with clear annoyance and a subtle, calculating side-eye that Ghost didn't catch.

Simon hummed in both understanding and agreement before his expression took on a far-off look. A look recognizable to those who also fought against their own mind daily.

Sereza observed him discreetly. Wherever his mind was taking him was not going to be a good place. Sighing loudly, she repositioned herself, causing the mattress to move and allowing her knee to accidentally-on-purpose brush against Ghost's leg in a subtle attempt to get him grounded without drawing any attention.

The skull blinked as he snapped back to their reality. With a knowing grin, she resumed tracing his tattoo in order to keep him in the moment.

Hoping to keep his mind from wandering off again, Sereza started talking aloud. “When I can’t sleep I like going on a walk. I like how quiet it is at night and seeing the stars and aurora overhead. The sky is really pretty this far north where there aren't any city lights to ruin it..."

The Brit listened as she went on about the things she did on her sleepless nights and what she loved about life in the Arctic. Her voice was indescribably soothing. Simon had never been one for chit-chat but all of this, for some reason, felt like incredibly important information. Plus it was relaxing to listen as she chattered away. Hell, he could - and wanted to - listen to her all night long. And the next night and the one after that. All of the rest of his nights and days he could spend exactly like this.

"... but if it’s one of those nights where I don't sleep at all then I might sketch. Or read. What do you usually do?” Sereza asked as her little monologue wound down.

"Hm. Gym. Clean my guns..." he trailed off. That was what he used to do to try and keep his worst memories locked away at night, but it wasn't what he wanted to do anymore. He wanted, craved - desperately - more of this. The peaceful quiet, the tranquility, and connection that his evening had turned into the moment Sereza walked through his door. At no other time was Ghost able to experience any of these in his life. 

Only with her.

Simon took a deep breath to calm his nerves at what he was about to say next.

Gathering every ounce of his courage and bravery as he entwined his fingers with her slender ones -

"I... think about you."

"Me?!" Sereza almost squeaked, dropping her pencil. Wide eyes glued to him.

"Yeah," the skull admitted almost sheepishly, nerves making his accent thicker. Fucking hell... no going back now.

Hazel eyes tried to discern what was going on in that masked head. He was clearly on the cusp of saying something important, but he was also very obviously hesitant. "...I keep you awake?" She gave him her best fake-sad tone.

Simon nodded in response. "Yeah. You do. Quite a lot." He paused and held her hand tighter. He was right before about how little her hand was within his. "I sit for hours and think about you. Nonstop. Day and night. I think about you all the bloody time." His throat stung with the emotions he was forcing himself to admit to her. "At first I didn't understand what was going on and was fucking scared as hell by how intense my... feelings... for you were, but... before I knew it..." Ghost paused before finishing hurriedly, "You're on my mind all of the damn time. All I care about, all that I want."

"Ghost... are-are you-"

"I love you…," he confessed in a dejected whisper.  ("WHAT THE FUCK?! NO KID OF MINE IS GONNA BE SUCH A FUCKING PATHETIC LITTLE SHIT!! QUIT CRYING BEFORE I FUCKING MAKE YOU!!")

Once again, his father's voice filled his mind with hateful words. His eyes stung and his throat locked up.

("YOU THINK I GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU? YOU THINK ANYONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT YOU?! ALL YOU'VE BEEN GOOD FOR IS RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE  JUST LIKE YOU RUIN EVERYTHING ELSE! NO ONE WILL EVER FUCKING CARE ABOUT YOU AND IF THEY DO, YOU'LL RUIN THEIR FUCKING LIVES TOO!")

Horrible memories of yelling, screaming, violence, his mother pleading with his father to stop... all came crashing down and threatened to bury him.

He had to stop himself.

This was not the life he wanted to subject Sereza to. His past... the anxieties and trauma and nightmares... none of it should be something she should have to deal with. He would ruin her life. God he was fucked up and falling in love with someone was horrendously fucking selfish of him.

"But I can't. You have a future ahead of you... and I will ruin it." His gravelly voice heavy with the crushing weight of emotion. "You are so, so beautiful to me. So perfect. And deserve everything good in life. I will ruin you..."

The skull stood and turned his back to her, unable to stand the hurt it caused him to face her any longer.

"Ghost-"

The Brit cut her off, shaking his head, "Forget I said anything," he mumbled, refusing to turn around and roughly pulling the sleeve of his hoodie back down over his arm. 

"What if I said that I don't care that you're complicated?" Sereza asked, sliding her hand into his once more as she moved to stand in front of him.

He silently contemplated her words. Her proximity was making it increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself. 

"I've killed people..." came a barely audible whisper.

"Who would have killed you. Or worse,” Sereza replied firmly.

"I've done horrible things."

"To survive,” she corrected. “I'm not afraid of who you've had to become in order to complete a mission and make it out alive."

"I'm... I'm not a good man... I will hurt you. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

Those dark eyes held more pain within them than she had seen in ages and it was breaking her heart. What has happened to you? How long have you suffered alone like this?  "I know exactly what soldiers like you are capable of, but I'm still here, aren't I? You won’t hurt me or scare me away, Ghost. I'm here now, I have been here, and I will still be here in the future... because I love you too."

Simon’s entire body tensed and he drew in a shaky breath at the sound of those words. You... you don't want me Love...

"Sereza..." Ghost shook his head. He'd wanted so fucking much to hear her say those words to him one day... but it only caused him more internal misery.

He believed, with his entire soul, that he was beyond loving. His father had made sure he was well aware of it when Simon was little and then there was his captivity in Mexico, the scars of which were carved into him. A permanent testament to his unworthiness.

He had to prove to her that he was not what she wanted.

Reaching up with a shaking hand, Ghost grabbed the top of his balaclava and pulled.

He could physically feel her gaze cutting into him as she took in his appearance. The numerous scars, the mop of sandy blond hair his father always said was hideous and messy, his nose had a bump in it and was a bit crooked from being broken multiple times. A face that so resembled his father's. How could the Brit not be convinced she was as repulsed by what she saw as he was? Surely she found fault in everything there was about him just like everyone else in his life always had. He took up too much space, was too sensitive, not man enough, loved his mother too much...  

His father had quite a lengthy list of everything wrong or bad about him and Simon had learned it well. 

Dark eyes locked onto the floor between them, unable to look at her disgusted expression. Cheeks and nose reddened as he fought to maintain control over his emotions.

Small hands reached up and tenderly cradled his scarred cheeks. "I love you... Simon Riley," Sereza murmured, tiptoeing to lightly kiss one of his scars near his chin.

The gesture and hearing her call him by his name made him crumble a bit on the inside and a single tear slid down his cheek where she wiped it away with her thumb.

Ghost risked a small glance at her. None of the revulsion or pity he feared seeing was anywhere on her face. Instead there was love. Acceptance. Comfort. Safety. All being offered to him freely and unconditionally. And Simon nearly shattered at the sight of it.

She leaned forward again and left another small peck on a scar at his jaw. Barely pulling away from him after and glancing up into the dark pools of his unblinking eyes before pulling his head down for a final kiss to the scar near his lower lip, causing him to release a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Simon tilted his face further down and lightly brushed his lips across hers briefly. "...I love you," he whispered, his mouth hovering just above hers.

Sereza grinned as she tiptoed again to reach him and kissed his lips. Quick, but not lacking in loving affection whatsoever.

Dipping his head closer, he wrapped his arm around her back and threaded his fingers into the soft waves of her hair. "I love you Sereza." Their lips came together as Simon, at last, allowed himself to take his fill of her lush lips and embrace the woman he loved. Sereza's lips were every bit as soft as he'd imagined they were. And so sweet.

She hummed in delight, pressing closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. One hand sliding into his hair. 

“Stay tonight?” Simon asked after their long kiss finally wound down. “Not to- Just to sleep,” he quickly clarified.

A bright smile beamed up at him. “I’d like that.” Sereza left little kisses just under his jawline - about as high as she could reach if the Brit wasn't bending down for her.

Unable to resist, Simon pulled her up to him for a proper kiss. He then guided her to the bed where once under the covers he pulled her close against his chest, his cheek resting against her forehead. Little strands of her hair tickled his chin. Sereza squirmed beside him a bit as she got comfortable before she reacquired his tattooed arm.

“That feels nice,” Ghost softly admitted while he watched her fingers glide across his skin.

"Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s gentle and your skin is soft. It’s... calming…” A yawn cut him off. His eyes heavy with sleep and the sensation of her fingertips only relaxed him further.

“Good. I’m glad,” Sereza quietly replied as she continued her tracing and snuggling closer to his large frame. “I love you Simon,” she whispered.

Ghost shut his eyes at the feeling her words stirred inside him. He lightly kissed her forehead. “I love you too.”

[mtdthoughts]

I have just finished writing Chapter 7 of the fanfiction.

This time, it's in Dali's perspective, and it contains the entirety of Episode 8 in his POV.

This chapter also hurt a bit to write. But I promise, it'll get better!!

I sat inside my tent, reflecting on what just happened. Just as I uncovered the truth of what had happened that Christmas night, Migi came and interrupted us. Through a series of blunders, he must have realized that Sali was me all along and bit me out of anger, and then he ran away from me just as I was about to start our revenge against Eiji. I attempted to run after him, but after encountering the old couple downstairs, there was no way I could continue chasing him, otherwise I’d risk exposing our secret to them. I had to give up and find Migi another day.

I continued staring at the bite mark my younger brother left on me. Sure, I understood why he was angry with me. I tricked him into falling in love with a disguised version of myself, and then I ruthlessly broke his heart after he caught me talking to Eiji. But I had to do it, it was all for Mother’s sake, and for ours as well. That’s what I told myself.

Yet even though I have lived with Migi my entire life, I wasn’t quite sure what to do now. Usually, when Migi was angry with me, he would just sit or lay down sulking, and he would get better after I comforted him a bit. I was prepared to take on Migi and all of his anger, but I wasn’t expecting him to run away from me. He’s never done this before! Even though I hurt Migi’s feelings, I hoped he’d be more understanding, that we could never live normally in Origon Village while we still had a duty to fulfill to Mother.

Who was I kidding? This was how Migi’s always been, relying on his emotions rather than reason. And it’s not like I haven’t noticed how Migi has  slowly slipped away into our new lifestyle in Origon Village. How he gradually became a true member of the Sonoyama family. How he… drifted away from me and Mother.

Regardless, this was something that needed to be done, and we needed to be together to do this. I’ll make it up to him later, but right now this matter comes first.

I lay in bed alone that night with nothing but a stuffed bear next to me. It felt unusually cold without my brother by my side. I struggled to get much sleep as I continually thought about what to do and what to say to Migi.

Suddenly, out of some strange compulsion, I decided to sneak out of the house and biked to Eiji’s house. I quietly crept over to the yard where Migi fell, and there I found the shattered necklace that Migi had tried to give me earlier. I picked up all the pieces and put them in my pocket before heading home to sleep.

Over the next couple of days, I decided to wait for Migi. I hoped that he would come back after cooling down a bit, but he never did. I also tried to repair the necklace, but I just couldn’t do it. It was shattered into so many pieces that it was beyond repair.

Eventually, I couldn’t wait anymore and decided to look for Migi myself. After searching around the various hiding spots we set up in Origon Village, I concluded that he had to be hiding in someone’s house.

I turned out to be correct, as when I showed up at Akiyama’s house, Akiyama’s words and expression revealed to me that Migi was indeed here.

After sending Akiyama away to fetch me a drink, I was able to locate Migi in Akiyama’s closet. He was still angry with me, but that didn’t matter right now. I just needed him to come back.

I attempted to force the door open, demanding Migi to come out, but he stubbornly refused to budge. Then, Akiyama’s intervention only left me more frustrated as I felt my chances of recovering Migi slipping away from me. I tried to convey my message to Migi through Akiyama, telling him that I didn’t mean to hurt him, and that I did all this to fulfill our promise to Mother. This was the truth, and at this point I was close to losing control of my own emotions.

Suddenly, Akiyama grabbed hold of me, telling me that I shouldn’t have to live according to my mother’s expectations, that I should let myself be free. Huh? What are you talking about? Don’t act as if you know anything about me… about us! This was something that needed to be done to end the curse that we carried all our lives!

Then, as Akiyama was distracted by his angry sister, Migi suddenly grabbed me and threw me into the closet. Before I could say anything, Migi told me he didn’t care about revenge anymore, and then proceeded to look me in the eyes, telling me that he won’t take orders from me anymore. I was lost for words. This was a complete disaster, as what I feared most came true, yet somehow, I couldn’t stop this from happening. I could do nothing but sit inside Akiyama’s closet, now stewing in the hopelessness from my futile attempts to take back Migi.

Suddenly, Akiyama wanted to go on a bicycle ride and took Migi with him. No. I couldn’t allow this to happen. If I continued to sit and do nothing, Migi would be gone forever. At this point, our secret didn’t matter anymore. I shoved the closet doors open and ran after Migi, but it was too late. I stood outside in horror as they sped away, with Migi shouting out loud that he was free.

Why? How could Migi do this to me? I thought that we understood each other, that we were supposed to be one, that we understood each other and the loneliness we shared.

I’ve always watched over him, protected him, and I remained the “strong older brother” just for him, even holding back my own pain and my own tears. I thought that Migi would be able to understand the sacrifices I had to make for our mission, that he wouldn’t leave me because of the promise we made. But how could he abandon Mother, how could he abandon me when we were so close to breaking the curse over us?

I suppose that in the end, Migi was just a brat who just cared about himself and his own pleasure. He only clung to me for comfort, and now that I’ve hurt him once, he’s ready to discard me like some broken tool. Even though we’re brothers.

I dragged my feet over to Mother’s grave and cursed the heavens for once again for bringing me yet again more misfortune. Before, I had Mother. Before, I had Migi. Now, I had no one.

This was all Eiji’s fault.

If he hadn’t killed Mother, she would still be with us.

If he hadn’t killed Mother, Migi would still be with me.

If he hadn’t killed Mother, my life would not have been filled with suffering.

At Mother’s grave I vowed to her that I would kill Eiji to set things right. To make sure that our suffering wasn’t for nothing.

If Migi wasn’t going to help me, then so be it. I’ll avenge Mother myself. I don’t need Migi anymore. I can’t let Migi drag me down anymore.

This was my duty.

Still, avenging Mother alone as Hitori Sonoyama was easier said than done. Now, I had to do everything Migi and I did in the house by myself, such as eating both our servings of food. It was difficult, but there’s no way I could slip up now. The old couple didn’t need to know about me, and I didn’t need them.

All I had to do was remain the perfect child. That was all I needed to do.

Doing all this felt like hell, and I reflected upon my situation as I vomited again into the toilet. Stupid Migi, why aren’t you here?

No, no. Don’t blame this on Migi. He’s always been this thoughtless and dull. And stop thinking about him, I thought to myself.

Later, I sat in the bath with the old man while stewing in my thoughts. Suddenly, after learning a trick about water pressure, I realized something: perhaps it was better that Migi wasn’t here anymore. Migi was always the incompetent one, always getting into messes that let me worry about him. Without Migi, I no longer had a stupid younger brother to drag me down while carrying out our revenge. All I needed to do was erase Migi’s existence from within me, allowing me to finally fulfill my duty to Mother.

Or so I thought.

When Halloween came, I hatched up the perfect scheme to kill Eiji. He always won the costume contest every year, so I rigged the winner’s throne so that a pumpkin would fall and hit his head once he sat on it. I thought it was quite poetic: just as Mother died after hitting her head because of Eiji, Eiji would die in a similar fashion.

Everything was going well according to plan, and I thought I could finally be rid of Eiji once and for all so that I could end my unhappiness once and for all, that I could finally prove that my life had meaning.

But then, everything went wrong when Eiji refused to sit on the throne. Suddenly, the one to sit on the throne was none other than Migi! I instinctively jumped down from the tree from where I was watching and ran as fast as I could to save him. I was in an utter state of panic.

At this point, our secret didn’t matter anymore, because Migi’s life was in danger! Even though I claimed I could erase Migi from within me, I just couldn’t. There was just no way I could, because Migi was my precious twin brother. These thoughts swirled my mind as Migi’s life flashed before my eyes.

When I heard the sound of the pumpkin being smashed my heart sank, as I thought that I had just killed my brother. Memories of Migi began to flood my mind. Memories of our time living in the Sonoyama house. Memories of us at school together. Memories of Migi… smiling from ear to ear during our date at the aquarium.

I thought that our days in Origon Village were meaningless, that they were simply a means to an end in avenging Mother, but I was dead wrong. In that moment I remembered what my original duty was, what my purpose was. Everything I did was for Migi, and it wasn’t out of some arbitrary obligation, but it was because I loved him. I loved him dearly, and it was his smile that I lived for, and it was the same smile that I trampled over and ruined. I thought that I was doing all this for him, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. A river of tears streamed from my eyes as I finally realized this truth.

I looked up to face what had happened, and to my shock, it was Eiji who was hit by the pumpkin, as if he had just saved Migi.

I stared at Migi, but before I could say, do, or even think anything, Migi turned around and bolted away as Akiyama ran after him. By the time I had recovered from my shock and thought of going after Migi, it was already too late. The crowd was in complete chaos, and I had already lost him.

The Sonoyamas found me in tears, and with worried looks on their faces, they frantically asked me if I was okay.

I couldn’t say a word.

They then took me into their arms as we walked home together, though I couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

Once we arrived home, the old couple put me in bed to let me rest, but there was no way I could get better. Even though it was good that Migi was still alive, I couldn’t bear that I had almost killed him.

Deep down, I knew that Migi just wanted to live a normal life in Origon Village, yet in anger, desperation, and fear, I couldn’t let him have it. Instead, I dragged him around, brought him into danger, and crushed his heart, thinking that he would just get over it. I feared that Migi would drift away from me if he became a part of this town, and yet I made this happen myself with my own foolishness.

What was I thinking?

I thought I was protecting Migi, but all I did was make him cry.

How could I do these things to him?

He was all I had, and yet I pushed him away so cruelly.

It’s all my fault that Migi’s gone now, yet I couldn’t help but want him back as I muttered his name while crying, clutching the remains of the dolphin pendant that he once cherished. It was insufferable, as if I was drowning in an ocean of my own tears and loneliness.

Even if Migi hated me, I still loved him. I don’t care if he was still angry with me, I just wanted him back, to make things right with him, to see his smile again, and I would give anything for that. Without Migi, how could I possibly go on?

[johnlockedinkonoha]

SASUNARUSASU FANFICTION BINGO 2023

 FINALLY

 Thirty years after the end of the war, everything was finally... okay.

Naruto struggled a little a few years after the war. He got married to Hinata, he had kids, he got a job as the Hokage. It was everything he needed. Or so he was told. He wasn’t sure.

I guess he wanted to get married and have kids. He really wanted to become Hokage – it was always his dream.

But… it wasn’t like he had imagined how things would be. He guessed.

Something was missing.

He didn’t let his mind go there. But sometimes he couldn’t help it. Sasuke. He missed him. And it was the strangest thing. They sure became friends at some point. Every time Sasuke was in danger he could feel it in his bones, and the desperate need to save him.

But he was gone. And Naruto had to move on. Right?

 At some point life went on. Ten years later he decided to ask for a divorce. He couldn’t do it anymore. He loved them. Hinata and the kids. But it wasn’t working. So he moved out. At first, only Himawari would visit his loft. But a few months into this new life, Boruto came around.

 Naruto sensed Hinata knew, maybe before himself, what was going on in his heart. So they stayed friends.

Life was okay. He went to work, stayed up until late. Went back to his lonely and almost empty loft, but he was okay. He find it peaceful and a throwback to his past. On the weekends he got to spend a time out with his children. Go to the park. Practice a few techniques. Eat ramen and so on.

 He felt himself burning out. So five years later, he quit his job. It was a long time coming for him, but he sensed he let people down. They sure were curious as to why he did it. He was so young still. And they all knew about his dream.

 He left town.

 He still hang out with the kids on weekends. But he needed some break from Konoha and all the ninja lifestyle and past he carried.

 So now, thirty years later, feeling better without all that burden, he felt sad and lonely – and thought maybe this was it.

 But then he saw him.

It was a sunny day, in the afternoon, just walking home after a walk into the park and a pause for tea.

Sasuke was just there. Still. In the middle of the street, in front of him, looking shocked.

 “Naruto?” – his voice was weak,  as if he could believe his eyes.

“Sasuke” – the blond confirmed. I am here, I missed you, thank Kami you’re still alive, how long has it been. Do you miss me?

“You wanna… go grab tea?” – Naruto asked. The raven boy… no, man. The raven man, now not raven at all, but silver – seemed to be in shock still.

“Yes.” – he murmured, sighed almost. As if in relief, as if he couldn’t believe still.

So they went back to Naruto’s loft. Never spilling a word.

Naruto opened his door wide, set the keys into the bowl next door.

Sasuke looked around, observing, looking for something.

Naruto observed him. He’d aged, but was still Sasuke. The same onyx eyes, black and a blackhole. The same hair length, a bit longer, silver now. Dark clothes.

“I live alone” – he didn’t mean to put so much into his words, as to emply multiple things at the same time.

“Where’s the…” – he didn’t finish.

“I’ve been divorced for years now. And I’ve changed jobs. Retired now.” – he put a shy hand on his neck, rubbing it. Embarrassed with the realization that he wanted to tell Sasuke everything. And also that he had to start there. I’m single.

“Me too” – Sasuke said, but felt he had to explain it better. “I’ve been single for a while now. Retired too. I live nearby here”.

“Cool.” – he fidgeted. “Lemme go get that drink, please, seat” – he pointed to the large couch and went into his kitchen.

He grabbed them both beer and handed Sasuke his.

“So… I haven’t heard from you… for twenty years, more or less.”

“Yeah, I… had to sort some things out.”

“I missed you” – there. He said it. He was too old for  this conversation.

“You did?”

“Didn’t you?”

“I guess.”

Naruto laughed, weakly.

“What things did you have to sort out?” – The blond asked curiously.

“It’s all good now. It wasn’t anything dangerous. I’m good.” – Sasuke. The mysterious man.

“I see. Well, I’m too old for this… being shy or whatever. So I’m gonna go ahead and say it. Since you might bail on me again and we’ll see each other in how many years from now? Will we be dead by them?” – he mocked.

“Naruto…”

“I love you.” – he took a deep breath. “I think I always have. The war was over and so was I. You ran away. You left. It broke me. It felt like it was all for nothing. “We” won. But you were gone. I won nothing.”

As Naruto tried not to cry, not over this again, Sasuke seemed taken aback. Eyeing the man in front of him with fondness.

“I tried living my life. But something was always missing. It was you. I always knew it. There was no point in waiting. But nevertheless I got divorced. I asked around about you, no one knew where you were. Some took you for dead.”

“I’m sorry”.

“It’s in the past now. I’m glad you’re here. Just wondering why. It feels like a dream, honestly”.

“I love you too”.

“What?”

“Yeah… that’s why I had to leave. So I thought. But then I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to try. When I came back to find you, you were married. So I left again.”

“Sasuke…”

“I also tried to live my life without you. It’s too empty and it hurts so much”.

They both got up and took each other’s hands.

“I’m glad I found you. Even if it’s too late”.

“It’s not… kiss me?”

Then without waiting anymore, Naruto put his hand in Sasuke’s chin, pulling him down a little and kissing his mouth. Soft at first, just feeling himself be pulled closer. Feeling Sasuke’s warm body, firm against him. Safe. And finally.

They deepened the kiss, licked each other’s lips, then tongues. Tasting each other. Finally, finally.

Naru could feel Sasuke’s soft hair. Finally. The man grunt. More. It said.

Sasu touched Naruto’s body everywhere. His face, his hair, his shoulders, his hips. His ass. He grabbed it, squeezed it. Yes. Yes.

“Sasuke”.

“Naruto”.

[justdancekid]

Flowers are for Lovers - A JD Fanfiction

Series: Just Dance 2024 Edition

Characters: Tiana (Don't Start Now/Flowers), Maria (Volar), Pheonix (all the good girls go to hell/Therefore I Am), Cody (Heat Seeker)

Relationship: Tiana/Maria

Rating: T

Type: Fluff, Humor, Romance

Description: Tiana has become famous in Dancity, with Maria & her kids coming to see her shows every night. One day, Maria decided to give her an interesting gift

"OH MY GOD! WE LOVE YOU MADAME FLOURA!!!" The crowd yelled as we see Tania doing her performance. She has done her signature pose as the song finishes.

"Thank you! You have been an wonderful crowd! I will see you next Thursday!" Tiana yelled as she walked out the stage and out the performance house.

She sees Maria flying out the door, and land on the ground, with Pheonix and Cody running behind her.

"That was amazing, mom!" Cody said

"Yeah, I don't know why, but I always thought these places suck. But, you've made this place worth while!" Pheonix said

"Another excellent performance from Madame Floura" Maria said as she walked up and they both shared a passionate kiss.

"Heh, you've always known what to say." Tiana said as they've shared another kiss.

"Jeez, does our moms even know that we're still here?" Pheonix said as she and Cody looked on at the sight.

After a couple minutes, Tiana and Maria moved back. "So, you wanna go to that park around here?" Maria asked her

"I would love nothing better." Tiana said as they started to walk off.

"Come on, kids!" Maria called to Pheonix and Cody as they ran towards them

As they got to the park, Pheonix and Cody played at the playground, while Tiana and Maria sat on the benches. Maria layed her head on Tiana's shoulders.

"It's nice that you guys are willing to show up at my performances." Tiana said

"Of course, what kind of wife would I be if I didn't come to her wife's performances?" Maria replied, as Tiana just smiled softly at that statement.

2 hours later

"Mom! I'm bored! Can we go home?" Pheonix asked

"Yeah, I'm feeling a little tired." Cody said

Maria got up and started stretching. "Welp, it looks like the kids wanna go home." She said.

"Oh yeah, one more thing." Maria said as she gave her a bouquet of roses. "Just to show my love for Madame Floura, and my wife." She said.

Tiana grabbed the roses and looked at it, and softly smiled. "Thanks, I love it." She said as they share a kiss. She starts to carry Pheonix, as Cody hopped on her back, as she starts to fly

"I'll see you next Thursday!" Tiana yelled out

"You know I will!" Maria yelled back as she flew off.

Tiana just sat at the bench and looked at the roses that Maria gave her.

"Man. I got a wonderful wife who would follow me to hell, and two amazing kids who look up to me. Yet, they all helped me into being the person that I am today." Tiana said as she held tightly to the roses.

Next Thursday

"Thank you! You guys have been a wonderful crowd! I'll see you next Thursday!" Tiana yelled out to the crowd as she leaves the stage and the performance house. But, she's surprised when Maria is already out there, waiting for her.

"Huh, I guess Cody & Pheonix didn't wanna come today?" Tiana asked

"Oh, no. They're already at the park, I've told them that their mommy's are gonna kiss. Pheonix didn't want to see that, so she went ahead to the park, and Cody followed suit." Maria answered

"I'll never understand that girl." Tiana said

"Yeah, but at least you know that she still loves you." Maria said

"Yeah. That's true. And, guess what?" Tiana moved closer to Maria

"I still love you." Tiana said as she initiated the kiss, Maria then put her hands in her hair. Then after 3 seconds, they stopped

"Woah, Crikey!" Was all Maria could say

"Hmm. Come on, let's go to the park. I'm sure they'll need someone to get them home." Tiana said as she and Maria walked to the park, hand in hand. Loving every second of it

[sirowsky]

I posted 890 times in 2022

252 posts created (28%)

638 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@deadhumourist

@tintinn16

@myfavpedrothings

@toomanystoriessolittletime

@harriedandharassed

I tagged 779 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#pedro pascal characters - 246 posts

#pedro pascal fanfiction - 216 posts

#modern!pero - 162 posts

#pero tovar fanfiction - 147 posts

#pero tovar x fem!reader - 117 posts

#pero tovar x female reader - 111 posts

#din djarin x female reader - 111 posts

#pedro pascal - 101 posts

#marcus moreno x female reader - 101 posts

#the lost island fic - 92 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#23 when i got my first car. it was a pos ford that my dad owned before me and almost never started for him. always did for me.

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A Little Menace 2

That didn't take me very long. Thank you guys for all the love for part 1, it was massively inspiring :)

Rating: Mature Warnings: ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, yearning, more improper thoughts, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, no use of y/n, no description of reader. Human boy Grogu. Word Count: 2518 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 1 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 4 Link to Part 5

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   Your doorbell rings at almost exactly 5pm, and you have to stop yourself from running to the hall with excitement.    Even though you’ve changed outfits five times and gone over every inch of it before settling on this one, you still check your appearance one last time in the hallway mirror, before opening the door.

   “Hi, guys!” you call out a little too loudly, your excitement spilling into the two short words and quickly overflowing. But you’ve been waiting all day and now they’re finally here, Grogu’s response being a reserved but polite smile, while Din is grinning almost as wide as you, making that pleasant warmth return to your stomach.

   “Hey. Good to see you again.” he responds softly, instantly making your knees weaken.

   “Likewise. Please, come in.” you offer, stepping aside to let them pass before closing the door behind them.

   They’re not wearing any shoes since it wasn’t exactly a long walk over, so you invite them into the living room without pause and then immediately set to work. Partly because you don’t want to give the kid enough time to start doubting whether he’ll be able to do this, and partly to distract yourself from the fact that his father smells intoxicating.    Had he trimmed his patchy little scruff of beard since yesterday? And who the fuck had told him that it was okay to wear a white Henley over those arms and chest?

   You wonder if it’s deliberate. If he knows exactly how that shirt accentuates his form and is being passively flirty. The way his jeans hug his ass and thighs makes you think yes, definitely deliberate.    Not that you ogled him while he made his way into the living room, or anything. (Yeah, right…)

   “Okay, Grogu, listen to me. I know you’re worried, but the first thing I want you to know, is that I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise. Do you believe me?” you ask, putting a hand on his shoulder, and he meets your eyes.

   He looks nervous, but seems to want to trust you, and after a few beats, he nods.    You take his hand and gently tug him along towards the balcony, stopping by the open door and kneeling next to him.    The feeder sits five feet above the ground, so its fully visible above the metal lower third of the glass walls that enclose the balcony, and the smaller birds are in the middle of their evening feeding routine. Another half-hour and they’ll all be gone for the day.

   However, the metal partition does hide the larger birds, hopping around on the ground, so the kid shouldn’t have to endure his worst fears on this first attempt to help him overcome his fear of them.    You don’t say anything at first, you just watch him closely, gaging his reactions and trying to learn just how frightened he is, how slow you’ll need to take this and where his hard limits are.

   “If you get really scared, just tell me and we’ll close the door, okay?” you say, and he nods slowly, keeping his eyes on the little finches, tits, thrushes, sparrows and robins, darting back and forth from the feeder.

   “See that little yellow one? That’s a yellowhammer. It actually lives about half a mile away at the edge of a big field, but because it hasn’t been a great year for grass-harvests, it’s been struggling to find enough food to feed its family. So, it comes here about three times a week to top up on quality grains.” you explain, and he follows the little bird with his eyes.

   You keep going like that for a few minutes, pointing out the different species and their characteristics until he seems perfectly at ease. Then you crawl on your hands and knees past the doorway and out onto the balcony, whispering for him to do the same, and he drops down and makes a show of being discreet and silent.    You crawl right up to the sliding door that leads out there, and he bravely follows, trusting that you won’t open it, so you take him in your arms and whisper in his ear.

   “They can’t see us through the glass, but just in case, move slowly and only peer over the edge.”

   Your conspiring tone makes him giggle, despite his nervousness, and he mirrors your movements as you slowly raise your head above the metal edge, just enough that you can see over it.    And when one of the birds turns its head towards you, you gasp theatrically.

   “Do you think it sees me?”

   He snickers and drops his head down below the edge again.

   “No, no it’s gone back to eating. It didn’t see me. Phew.” you exhale, dropping down next to him with a smile. “Do you think that’s enough for today, tough guy?”

   He nods, but still with a big grin on his face and you point towards the door, mouthing ‘go’ at him and following him when he crawls back into the apartment, where Din has taken a seat on the sofa where he could see the whole thing.    He’s smiling too, breaking into a laugh as his son gets up and jumps into his lap, clearly pleased with himself for getting so close to the birds.

   “Great job, kid! Was it scary?” he asks, while you get up and close the balcony door to help the boy feel safe.

   Grogu nods and hugs his dad, who chuckles and looks at you with sparkling eyes, making your knees wobbly again, so you sit down on your coffee table in front of the sofa, to keep from falling over.    Christ, he’s even more beautiful today somehow.    How in the hell are you gonna be able to do this every day without jumping his bones at some point?

   “You did really good, Grogu. I’m proud of you.” you say softly, and the boy lets go of his father’s neck and turns towards you with a proud grin, and even though he doesn’t say a word, you know what he’s anticipating. And you see no reason to keep him waiting. “So, how about we break open that box of LEGO now?”

   His eyes go wide and he all but leaps out of Din’s lap and runs across the floor, over to your work desk where the big cardboard box is sitting underneath it.

   “Hey, wait for me you rascal!” you call after him, earning you a fresh bout of giggles as you get up and chase him.

   The construction is too big for the desk, so you bring it back to the sofa and the wide expanse and sturdy nature of the oak coffee table, where you let him do the honours of breaking into the box.    You wouldn’t have thought that a kid so young would be this good at something this advanced, and you watch in amazement as he slowly and methodically follows the instructions, while you and Din mostly just support him by helping him find pieces and interpreting some of the more difficult instructions.

   “How old is he?” you ask his father, while Grogu’s focused on a hunt for a tiny black piece that he needs to find before he can move on.

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133 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

#4

Don't Die

Here comes the last of the prompts I've gotten for this celebration, and we're wrapping up with a heartbreaker! I got this ask by an anonymous sender, where the prompt was "You can't die. Please don't die." with Din x Reader, so naturally, my head went to angsty-land...

Now, as this concludes the 400 Challenge, I just wanna say thank you to everyone that sent me prompts and helped me to mark this occasion! I love all of you <3 And I'll always accept asks, requests and prompts, if I feel comfortable with the subject, so please don't hesitate to ask.

Rating: Mature Warnings: ANGST, Din Djarin x female reader, mostly Din's pov, AU. Grogu, Cobb Vanth, Peli Motto and Greef Karga appears. Word Count: 1500 Author’s Masterlist

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135 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

#3

A Safe Place

So, I have no idea where this came from. None. But it's Pero, and I don't really need reasons to write him.

This is a standalone Pero Tovar one shot, with a female reader but told entirely from Pero's perspective.

Summary: He opens the door one night to find a friend in trouble, and in trying to help, he discovers that she's much more than a friend.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: TW domestic abuse, TW physical abuse, angst, hurt/comfort, no physical description of reader beyond female, happy ending. Word Count: 3250

Author's Masterlist

The two short knocks were so faint that had he not been on his way to lock the front door, he never would’ve heard it. It was well past midnight, and he’d just turned the tv off to go and brush his teeth before bed, so the house was dark and quiet, and still he barely heard it. He switched on the lights in the hall and opened the door. It had been a long day for a lot of reasons, and he was tired, but that all became insignificant when he saw you out there, leaning against the wall, covered in cuts and bruises, and hardly able to stand. You’d been beaten. Badly.

He stepped out and wrapped an arm around your waist, seeing how you flinched when pain shot through you at his touch. He wasn’t the most careful or tender of men, but he tried to soften his grip so as not to cause you any unnecessary discomfort, while he helped you get inside and guided you to his bedroom. You followed without protest, moving slowly and with great difficulty. You didn’t meet his eyes even momentarily, and he wondered why it felt like you were ashamed. Once he’d sat you down on the bed, he went into the adjoining bathroom and got some warm water and towels that he brought back and placed on the nightstand. He tried to be gentle as he wiped the blood off your face to try and see where it was coming from, but some of it had already dried and therefor required more effort. Every time his ministrations made you twitch or wince, he felt more and more like a monster for adding to your pain, but it had to be done. He found three larger cuts on your face and head, none of whom would need stitches, but he was gonna tape them together after he’d checked the rest of you over. Next were your hands, and they were in bad shape. You’d fought, and you’d fought with everything you had, as evident by the badly chafed knuckles. Your hands would need to be bandaged, but at least you seemed to have avoided breaking any bones in them.

“Where else?” he asked while dunking the small towel in the now dark red water.

You gave no response and didn’t move at all, and repeating the question yielded no better result, which made him huff in frustration. He was neither patient nor eloquent, meaning his responses to most situations consisted of grunts, sighs and eyerolls, which was usually enough to convey how disinterested he was in most things. But this time, for the first time, he regretted using such a crude way of communication, because you visibly shrunk at the sound, hunching even further in on yourself and angling your bowed head away from him.

He’d known you for almost ten years, ever since working his first real job, as a bouncer at a bar where you’d been a bartender, and at first, he’d found you childish and spontaneous and way too naive. You’d been the brightest spot of every room you set foot in and the one that everyone wanted to hang out with, simply because you’d radiated fun. You’d basically been his complete opposite, and while he’d never had anything against you, he hadn’t particularly liked you either. That is, until he’d seen you take every ounce of masculinity out of a guy that had made the mistake of putting his hands where they weren’t welcome. Naive, yes, but by no means helpless in either words or actions. He liked that quality in people, all people, not just women, because knowing that they could and would handle themselves meant that he didn’t need to worry about them. And try as he might, when he cared about someone, he worried. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d begun to care about you, since you’d been nothing but an annoyance to him ever since then, but he damn well did. Not that he’d ever admitted it, even to himself. You’d pretty much just decided to befriend him, whether he agreed or not, and that had been how your relationship had worked from then on. You’d show up unannounced at all hours of the day or night, sometimes inviting yourself to crash on his couch after a long night, and sometimes bringing takeout and a movie, just because you were bored and knew that he wouldn’t throw you out. Occasionally, you’d even cook or bake. And it didn’t matter to you that he rarely engaged with your ideas, or even answered you when you prattled on about anything and everything, you just smiled and kept at it, determined to have a good time, no matter the mood of the room. That was who you were at your core: someone that made the most out of every breadcrumb. And more importantly; a free spirit. Someone not meant to be tied down and trapped by commitments and promises. You’d been happy to take home a random guy to enjoy yourself with for a few hours on the weekends, but that was as close as you’d ever gotten to people. Even the friends you’d had were more shallow acquaintances than real relationships, since you’d never allowed anyone to really know you. Well, anyone but Pero. During your forced visits you’d usually talk all the time, and the topics were as varied as insects were plentiful. But sometimes you’d stray into more personal areas, like your family, or dreams, or things you’d gone through in your life. So, in truth, he was probably the one person that knew who you were, behind the scenes, even though he hadn’t asked or wanted to be. Or perhaps because of it. All of this meant that he’d known when you’d met the guy that had changed everything. He’d known it from the first day, because your behaviour had started to change that quickly. He’d never mentioned his observations to you, it wasn’t his place to judge or meddle with your affairs, but he’d noticed, and he hadn’t liked what he’d noticed. The guy had snared you into a relationship you didn’t want, but for some reason didn’t know how to get out of, despite your confidence in yourself. And the result of that had been a slow and painful death of the person you really were, as your soul became increasingly trapped behind the walls of the cage that somehow grew around you. He’d watched it happen, and said nothing, even though he’d wanted to, because in your eyes he’d seen how desperately you’d needed his house to be a sanctuary. A place where that person was still allowed to live and shine, as free as she’d always been. So, he’d let you, knowing that every time you’d left, you’d returned to that cage.

Now that he saw the finger-shaped bruises on your wrists, he regretted his silence. His compliance. Because this was how the guy had trapped you. This was why you hadn’t found the strength to walk away. And a part of him had known it all along, but told himself that it wasn’t his fight, and that unless you asked, he had no right to meddle. But the truth was simply that he hadn’t wanted to get involved. And for no better reason than because that would’ve meant admitting that he cared. Well, too fucking late, pendejo…

“I don’t care what happened, just let me take care of your wounds.” he pleaded, hating how gruff he still sounded.

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, but you took a jagged breath and reached up to pull your long-sleeved t-shirt over your head, grimacing badly with the pain the movements caused you. And as soon as the shirt was off, he knew why. Big black bruises had already formed along your left side, from the hip all the way up to the underside of your bra, and angry red scrapes, most likely from the toe of a boot, adorned the softer flesh of your love-handle. White-hot rage filled his blood at the sight, and he had to clench his jaws down tight, to silence the string of curses that spilled from his lips. But he couldn’t halt the anger.

“I’ll kill him.” he spat between his teeth.

You flinched, but more likely at the hard and cold tone of his voice, than the words he’d said, so he tried to speak softer, although with limited success.

“You need a hospital, scans, medica-…”

“No.” you cut him off, but your voice was weak and fragile, even with such a small word.

“You could have internal bleeding, broken ribs, damaged organs.” he pressed, but you just shook your head.

“He doesn’t know… about you. I’m safe here.”

That would imply that you weren’t safe at a hospital, and when he considered the fact that this man had forced you to marry him, and would likely have a story prepared, explaining your injuries, it wasn’t unthinkable that he could get his hands on you, even around medical professionals. You were scared, and you’d come to him to feel safe, which for some reason eased the rage and made a different kind of warmth spread through him.

“Okay. Let me get some bandages.” he offered, and you nodded once.

He noted that you still hadn’t looked at him, and that sense of shame still hung over your head somehow, which he just couldn’t understand. But for now, his focus was on making you feel better. When he came back to the bedroom after having retrieved his first aid kit from the kitchen, you’d slumped down on your side on the bed, with your feet still on the floor. He lifted them up to make you more comfortable, and you didn’t react to the movement at all, so he kept a close eye on your breathing while he worked, just in case you weren’t merely sleeping. Even though your pulse was strong, and everything seemed stabile, he was much too anxious to have a hope of sleeping that night. So, he dragged a more comfortable armchair from the living room into the bedroom, that he could sit in to watch over you while you slept. But before he settled in, he dug up the duffel bag from the bottom of his closet. He hadn’t used the blades inside of it in the ten years since he’d cleaned up his act, but he still trained with them, and kept them sharp and ready. He’d never imagined that you would be the reason he might have to resort to that kind of violence again, but he would gladly do it to keep you safe. For all the annoyance you’d made him suffer over the years, you’d never once been unkind or deliberately selfish or unthinking. Not to anyone, even your bastard husband. He took his seat by your side, and after a few moments, reached over and wrapped one finger around your pinkie. Just so he’d know if you stirred, in case he dozed off. He looked at your hand, all red even where there wasn’t any visible damage to your skin, and he thought about how hard you must’ve fought, and it brought a small smile to his face, just barely enough to twitch at the corners of his mouth. But it felt bigger than that. Because that kind of spirit was how he was used to seeing you, that was the person he knew you to be.

The morning came without anyone having banged on his door in the night, reinforcing your statement that your husband really didn’t know that Pero’s house was where you’d spent most of your free time, even after getting married. He wondered how you’d managed that? How had you been able to carve out entire days or nights away from him, for over three years? Abusive men were controlling assholes, they generally kept their victims on a tight leash, but somehow, you’d figured out a way to keep a little corner of freedom, no matter what your lesser half had done. It was admirable, and perhaps the only reason you were in his bed right now. Without that little speck of freedom, you probably would’ve succumbed to your husband’s control completely. Allowed him to dictate every thought and emotion. But perhaps only because you’d had a slice of something better, reminding you that life wasn’t supposed to be lived in chains, you’d been able to hold on to yourself, until you’d found your breaking point, and used it to get away. He wondered how much you’d managed to hurt the guy in return, given the state of your hands. He hoped that the answer was: a lot.

You regained some energy over the course of that day, even though the bruises only looked worse, and your pain was still not lessened. The improvement seemed to be more of mind and spirit, than body. He cooked for you and helped you move around, and you were strong enough to tease him about his culinary skills, which was a good sign. But any time he tried to ask you about what had happened, you shut down and stopped talking all together. He wanted to know so that he could decide what he was gonna do about the situation, and with his general lack of patience, it was twice as maddening to be forced to wait, when he had no clue what your husband was doing to find you. By the end of the day, you asked him to stay with you after he’d tucked you into bed, and he couldn’t refuse you. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time you’d slept next to each other. Sometimes when you’d stayed the night, he’d found you curled up on one side of his bed in the morning, having snuck in at some point during the night, and he’d always woken you and told you to get your own bed. Your response to that had always been to suggest shared custody of his bed, since it was the comfiest one you knew of, and in more recent years had graduated to you simply reminding him of that shared custody, even though he’d never actually agreed to it. But now, he wondered if maybe it had just felt safe to you, even before you’d met your husband. A calm port in an otherwise perpetually storming sea.

There was no moon to be seen that night, nor stars to bear witness to his vengeance. It wasn’t his to take, not really, and he’d left you alone even though he knew that you needed him there. But his blood still boiled at the mere thought of the man, and there would be no peace until the bastard was gone for good. He knew which house it was, even though he’d never been there before. He knew where the hidden key was, even though he’d never used it before. Through your eyes he’d seen every inch of your home, and it seemed as familiar to him as you did, when he stalked through the bottom floor, making no sound at all. One step of the stairs creaked, and he skipped it without even needing to count them. The master bedroom was on the far end of the upstairs hall, to the right, past the nursery that he’d made you decorate in the hopes that it would make you yearn for a child as much as he did. No doubt only for appearances, as a man like him would take enormous offence at the suggestion that he wasn’t fertile, or man enough, to father a child. The bedroom door always stood open a few inches, so the bastard would hear it if you moved through the house at night. He snuck inside and found the guy sleeping on his side, the duvet down by his waist and his arm on top of it. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the bruises you’d left on him were on full display in the light coming from the small lamp on his bedside table. Pero took a moment to admire your handiwork, some of it bad enough that large medical patches hid them, and he smiled in earnest. Because this meant that you’d already won. You’d already beaten him, in mind, body and soul. Meaning all he had to do was finish the job, so that you would never have to.

It would take another two days until you finally told him what had happened. He’d understood your shame then, as your kind heart had been made to endure terrible things for you to save yourself. Forced to reduce yourself to the most basic of instincts, ignoring all forms of humanity and decency and respect, in order to free yourself of a monster. You’d managed to stop your inner beast before delivering the killing strike, though, of which he was grateful. Both because it meant that your soul was still intact, but also because it had allowed him to exact his own revenge as well. It would take another few days before he told you about that, though. And only because the news reported about your husband’s disappearance, asking for tips concerning the whereabouts of his wife. You were shocked at first, but not appalled or disgusted, and after just a few minutes, you thanked him for his actions. He assured you that the body couldn’t be found, and that no blame could ever be laid at your feet, and you left it at that for the time being.

You never married again, but you did have a baby, a few years later after finally finding someone that you trusted to treat you right. He’d always been there, but you’d always thought that he was out of your reach, and he couldn’t say for certain that he hadn’t been. If you’d wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him to you for that first kiss, back when you were still just the friend he never invited, he wasn’t sure that he would’ve kissed you back. But he did that day. He kissed you with all the passion he possessed, tugged at you, begged you to come closer even when your entire body was pressed against his. He kissed you all night, everywhere that you would let him, and in those kisses, he learned what it was to love someone. How it felt. How it hurt and comforted all at once, how it burned and soothed and then started all over again, every single minute.

You gave him the rest of your life, and he took it proudly, all the way to your shared grave, many wonderful years later. In his final minutes in this life, having grown old and grey, he thought about the events that had unfolded back then, and he wondered if he’d given you enough. If the years you’d had with him had been good enough to balance those awful ones. To outweigh them, even. He looked at your face, still so soft despite the wrinkles, and still warm despite your soul having departed in the night. And you looked so peaceful, almost happy, even in death, that he had to have done something right. And that was enough. He’d gotten to be the one that made you happy. And now, he was the one that got to go with you to the next adventure.

--THE END--

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143 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

#2

Wrong Way Home

--Marcus Pike one shot--

This is so not what I was supposed to spend all my writing time on this week, but that's what happened. This was also not supposed to be such a self-portrait, but it really is. It's completely self-indulgent and I make no apologies. I wrote this for myself, because I needed it, but maybe someone else needs it too.

Description: You pick up a stray and decide to help him get to where he's supposed to be, a decision which ends up having lasting implications.

Rating: Mature themes 18+ONLY Warnings: female reader, vague physical descriptions, driving, animals on the road, cursing, blizzard, hazardous weather conditions, fluff, angst, happy ending. Word Count: 12,690 Author's Masterlist

Two consecutive blizzards had dumped almost three feet of snow on your hometown, in the space of just one week, and now a third one was bearing down on you, expected to drop at least another two feet. You were used to bad conditions, having grown up there, but it was just as cumbersome and inconvenient each year, no matter how well prepared you were. Thankfully, the city council was also used to it and had all its resources in the streets, day and night, to try and manage the frozen masses that were trying to bury you. They had urged all citizens to keep off the roads other than what was absolutely necessary, but you were a good driver who knew how to handle snowy roads and bad visibility, and you had a good car too. So, when your mom had asked you to help her clear some snow in front of her house that Friday, to make sure the winds couldn’t push it up against her front door, you hadn’t hesitated to make the drive over.

She was retired and had badly arthritic hands, and while she was good at managing on her own most of the time, there were certain things she just couldn’t do anymore. You’d made her stay inside while you’d battled against the winds and the whirling snow for a good two hours, until you’d cleared enough of it that she’d hopefully be able to get her door open in the morning, even if it kept snowing all night. Once you were done, you stepped inside to keep her company for a while and get yourself warmed up. You were sitting by the little table at the kitchen window, sipping tea and looking out on the storm, talking about the latest things to have happened in the family since the holidays that had come and gone. Your mother knew that the depth of winter was hard for you, because the lack of sunlight made you depressed, and did her best to keep the mood light, but she could tell that you were more than ordinarily tired today.

“How was work this week?”

“It was okay. You know how it is, it’s stressful and hard, but fun and rewarding too.”

“Yeah. Thanks for coming today, I know how much you need your weekends off to rest your mind.”

“It’s not your fault that the sky is falling down, mom.”

“No, I know, but I just want you know that I appreciate it. You always come when I call, and I wanna make sure you know that I try not to take that for granted.”

“Thanks for saying that, but I’m happy to help, and I need a kick in the ass to keep myself from never leaving the apartment until spring. Besides, shovelling snow can be really therapeutic too.”

“I suppose that’s true. Will you stay for dinner?”

“No, I think I wanna get home and shower. How about tomorrow? I assume there’ll be more snow to wrestle with by then.”

“Sure, that sounds good. I do have one more favour to ask, though.”

You smiled and shook your head a little, before taking the last swig of your tea.

“You always do. What is it this time? Don’t tell me you went and bought something on some online flea-market again, I’m not picking up some odd chair or a pair of socks on my way home, not in this weather.”

“No, no, it’s just the Christmas tree, if you could help me get it up to the attic?”

You couldn’t hold back the sigh that pushed past your lips at that. The plastic masterpiece weighed a ton, and the narrow steep staircase to the attic required some delicate manoeuvring, which should be interesting when your muscles were already spent from your battle with the snow. But your mother knew that you’d still do it, which was why you didn’t feel bad about the sigh.

“Fine. But that oldest brother of mine is bringing it down again next season, mark my words.”

She just smiled and took both your cups to the sink, while you got up and went to work on the eight-foot beast of a tree. Half an hour later, just after 3pm, you were back in your car and making your way through the small village where your mother lived, mentally mapping the ten-mile route to get to your apartment, trying to think which roads might be best maintained. The wind was howling and tearing at the car, even at low speeds, and visibility was awful with how much snow was being pushed around out there. It was a minor miracle that you even spotted him. He was little more than a shadow against a dark background, but his movements caught your eye and once you took a closer look, you got worried and slowed down further before reaching him. He wasn’t anywhere near dressed correctly for that weather, wearing the kind of coat that looks good but isn’t actually that warm, and suit-pants, suggesting a full suit under the coat. But nothing more. No thermal clothes of any kind, not even a hat or proper gloves. His shoes were under a foot of snow, but you’d bet anything that it wasn’t gonna be boots. On top of that, he was carrying what looked like an overnight bag and a generally confused body-language, leading you to the conclusion that this was either the most unprepared tourist you’d ever seen, or someone that was seriously lost. You came to a stop right next to him, but the windows were frozen shut, so you waited for him to take the hint, until he opened the passenger side door but politely only poked his head inside.

“Hi, can you help me, I’m completely lost?”

An American. That was unexpected, but thankfully your English was excellent, and you’d finally get a chance to use it.

“Get in, you’ll freeze out there.”

He did as you’d said, and sat down, cramming the bag down on the floor by his shiny shoes that were absolutely packed with snow. You turned the heater up to maximum and then started driving again.

“I need to keep moving or we might get rear-ended by someone not expecting a car standing still in the middle of the road in this weather.”

While you explained, he took his thin leather gloves off and put his trembling hands against the warm air fan in the centre consol.

“That’s okay, I don’t have a clue where I am anyway. Thank you for stopping.”

You reached underneath his arms for the button that started the heater in the passenger seat.

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147 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Little Menace

I recently had some trouble with the neighbors, and of course, my good friend @deadhumourist managed to turn it into an idea for a story. So, here's a lil thing based on her idea.

Rating: Mature Warnings: Includes ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, improper thoughts, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, Grogu is a human boy here. Word Count: 2080 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 4 Link to Part 5

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   He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know any better…    That’s what you keep telling yourself as you throw some clothes on to run outside and stop your next-door neighbour’s kid from breaking your birdfeeder.

   The thing is, this isn’t the first time he’s been messing with it, nor will it be the first time you talk to him about it, and he’s always apologetic once you catch him, which makes you think that this is about getting attention.

   But you’re not his parent. It’s not your job to teach this kid how the world works and it’s not fair to him that he should have to endure getting repeatedly told off by a stranger, when you suspect that it's his dad’s attention he really wants.

   “You know your dad will have to pay for that if you break it, and it wasn’t cheap.”

   He flinches at the sound of your voice, spinning on his heels to look at you, and taking a few steps back, but he doesn’t run away.    Your apartment is on the ground floor, and your balcony door is just a few feet from the feeder, so by the time he’s registered the sound of it opening, you’re already close enough to grab him, should you need to.

   The thing is about the size of a large suitcase, cylindrical in shape and housing over fifty feeding-stations that varies in the types of seeds or other kinds of feeds that it can hold. Large nets for peanuts and Plexiglas containers for small grains, for example.    It’s mounted on a big metal pole that’s been driven six feet into the ground to anchor the whole thing, and at the base of it, a separate type of feeder accommodates the magpies and other larger birds, to keep them away from the little guys.

   “I’m trying to help the birds survive winter, why are you trying to hurt them?”

   It’s a pretty solid construction, so in truth, the kid would have to work really hard to actually break it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still damage it. Plus, it scares the birds when he throws sticks or sometimes even rocks on it.    Today though, he’d tried to sneak up on some blackbirds sitting on the ground and feasting on dried mealworms, doing his best to kick them as they scrambled to get away. Thankfully, he’d missed them all, but it had seriously pissed you off.

   As always, he doesn’t answer you, but he does meet your eyes and you can see that he’s close to tears. Real ones. His body-language shows you shame and regret as clear as day, and you just can’t figure out what he’s trying to accomplish with all this.    You sigh and cross your arms over your waist. He’s not your kid to teach, but this has to stop, and if his dad isn’t gonna take care of it, then you’re just gonna have to.

   “I told you last time that if this ever happened again, I’d be marching you home and having a serious conversation with your father, and I keep my word, kid.    So, you can either come with me calmly, or I can drag you there, what’s it gonna be?”

   He looks worried, but after a moment’s deliberation, he slowly comes to your side and walks with you through first your balcony and then your apartment, out your front door where you immediately ring the bell of the apartment directly to your left.

   Despite living next to them for over two years now, you’ve never seen his father. You’ve heard him bustle about in the kitchen, and their bathroom is wall to wall with yours, so you hear it every time the bathtub is filled or drained. But you don’t actively listen to your neighbours, you just register the sounds that are loud enough to cut through your music or sounds of the tv.    Since you’re not the nosy type, you haven’t been running to look through the peephole whenever you’ve heard the door open, but he comes and goes like any regular person so if you had, you would’ve seen him.

   The door opens, and you automatically begin to explain why you’re standing there with his son, in the hopes that he won’t get angry with you.

   “Hi, Mr. Djarin, I’m sorry but your son-…” you trail off when your gaze connects with a pair of deep brown and slightly sad-looking eyes that are studying you closely, in between glances at the boy.

   “What did he do?” he asks, his voice soft and low, and somehow making you feel like you wanna purr.

   “Uh…” you’ve almost forgotten your reason for bothering him. “He was being mean to the birds in my yard. I would’ve let it go if it was the first time, but he’s thrown things on my feeding station and nearly damaged it a few times too.”

   He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose, before sinking to one knee and beckoning the kid closer.

   “Grogu, I’ve told you so many times now… the birds aren’t dangerous. If you leave them alone, they’ll just eat and leave.” he tries to remind his son, and you idly wonder if you’ve ever heard a name like that before.    But the kid doesn’t answer, so Mr. Djarin looks back up at you.

   “He’s afraid of birds. The smaller ones are more skittish, so he can ignore them because he knows that they mostly keep their distance. But the crows and magpies and the bigger ones are bolder, and they frighten him.” he explains calmly, with a very apologetic undertone.

   You’re struggling to pay attention, though, because he’s kneeling just two feet in front of you, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes and you can’t help but wonder what he’d look like buried between your legs.    If you’d known that he was this fucking beautiful you would’ve been glued to that peephole every time you heard him at the door.

   “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” you try to sound diplomatic, but you’re not sure what to do about the situation.

   One the one hand, it makes sense that he would be so aggressive towards the larger birds if he was hoping to scare them away for good, and that he’d be inclined to destroy the feeder to try and keep them from coming back.    But on the other hand, his actions are still not acceptable and no matter what he feels, he isn’t entitled to destroy people’s property.

   “I’ll pay for any damage he’s caused, of course.” he offers, and a streak of compassion stings your chest.

   He’s a single father, doing his best, clearly exhausted and unsure of how to ‘dad’ correctly sometimes, and you simply can’t be upset with either of them anymore.

   “Well, actually the feeder is homemade, so it would be hard to put a value on it. But he hasn’t broken anything yet, and I think I might have an idea on how to keep it that way.”

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185 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

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[everythingnerdyxoxo]

I'll Be Your Slave - Lizard x OC - The Hills Have Eyes Fanfiction

Summary: After years of being sold from slaver to slaver, Charly had finally lost the will to live. When she finds herself stumbling into the mutant village and being surrounded by the closest thing she'd known as a family, would they accept her or sell her back to her master?

Pairing: Lizard x OC

Rated: M

Chapter Six

It wasn’t long before Pluto had arrived back, with a collection of empty bowls. Big Mama had told Pluto what she had expected of him that day, to watch her and make sure no harm came to her. Pluto appeared excited at the notion. For someone who looked so large and dangerous, he came across quite sweet. Almost childlike.

Big Mama had taken great pride in showing Lily her cleaning cupboard, and Lily was actually impressed. Lizard wasn’t joking when he said she collected bleach. There were at least 5 shelfs full of it, several mops, and several other cleaning products inside, including a trolley Big Mama was happy for her to use – asking Pluto to carry it across the sand for her before entering Lizard and Goggle’s house.

The house was directly opposite Big Mama’s but looked more worn. Some of the windows at the top of the stairs had been broken and even the front door seemed to be hanging on by only one hinge. Pluto had entered the home first, holding the broken door open for Lily as he did so. Big Mama wasn’t kidding, the place really was a mess.

There was dust, sand, rubbish, clothes, and this was just the living room. She could see where they had been sitting, the only places not covered in empty beer cans food wrappers. She could see why Big Mama had been avoiding this. It was the same layout as Big Mama’s house, the open door ahead of her she presumed went into the kitchen, and there was a staircase to a landing to her left with two bedrooms upstairs and she presumed a bathroom. She imagined the rest of the house wouldn’t be much different, she could see why Goggle was embarrassed to have her here.

She could think of worse jobs to do though, she enjoyed cleaning, she found it quite therapeutic. She turned to Pluto who was standing beside her with her new cleaning trolley. He had a sheepish grin on his face as he watched her. She smiled at him.

‘Thank you, Pluto, I’m going to start in here and work my way through I think.’ She looked around once again, where to start?

For the next hour she went to work on the living room, Pluto sitting on the floor and seemingly occupying himself with the roll of binbags he held. He was enjoying himself, handing her things she needed. She has successfully picked up all the rubbish she could have seen in the room. she’d found a coffee table and a collection of weapons hidden until the rubble of cans and rubbish. She made quick work of wiping down the surfaces and all she needed to do now was take the rubbish out and mop and dust.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead, the desert heat was filtering through the house, with no curtains she could see, there was nothing to block the sun from entering the house she stood in.

She took hold of one of the mops, making a start on the floor when she heard the hinges of the door creak behind her. Pluto was up with a start as Lizard entered the room. Lily watched him with curiosity as he inspected her work, he looked impressed, an eyebrow cocked with curiosity in her direction.

He walked towards her, his boots echoing off the newly cleaned floor as he did so, until he was so close she could feel his breath on her. Pluto made to come between them, slipping on the wet floor as he did so. He fell with a crash, earning an obnoxious laugh from Lizard in front of her. Lily went to help the poor mutant, but Lizard grabbed the top of her arm, holding her steadfast. His strength surprised her to the point she dropped the mop she was holding as he turned her towards him. He was so close to her their noses almost touched.

‘Liz…Lizard! Ma said you aint not allowed to touch Lily!’ Pluto clumsily tried to stand back up his, weight and height working against him as he did so.

Lizard shot him a disdainful look, his eyes were cold as he looked at Pluto, like ice, she could feel his hostility towards the man.

‘She aint your Ma! And I aint be doing anything naughty to our little Lily here.’ His gaze was on her once more. His cold blue eyes bearing into her own. Lily could feel her heart beating a mile a minute as he came even closer, bringing his face to the side of her own and breathing hotly into her ear.  ‘At least not yet anyway, blondie.’ He whispered in her ear, quietly enough for Pluto not to hear.

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent as he did so. She felt his free arm slip around her small waist, pulling him against his hard chest. she could feel his weapon press into her shoulder as he did so, the spiked row of ammo he carried with him wherever he went.

She felt the blush come to her cheeks, her heart beating so strongly she could hear it in her ears. And then it was over. He released her in one movement, barely giving Lily time to register what had happened as he continued through into his kitchen. Pluto stood dumbfounded behind her; he was jittering on the spot ready to pounce if needed. Though it was obvious how afraid Pluto was of Lizard, his strength was undeniable. It surprised her, being pressed against him like that, he was so masculine he could have been made of stone.

‘Lily…?’ Pluto voice brought her out of her thoughts. His worried glance brought her back to the task at hand.

‘I’m fine Pluto…’ She could hear her voice tremble as she spoke, as she picked up the mop from the floor and continued what she had been doing, a little more vigorously than she had been. She shot the kitchen an occasional glance, as if waiting for him to return, but she had heard the back door open and close as he had gone in there.

‘At least not yet…’ Lily couldn’t decide whether to be afraid or excited by his promise to her.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Regally Smitten

chapter 6: epilogue

synopsis: A future king and his servant are bound by their forbidden love. With the odds stacked against them, and a jealous brother out for blood, will their love prevail? Or will history repeat itself?

chapter word count: ~2.6k

warnings: homophobia (specifically religious homophobia, this is a period piece so these beliefs are a reflection of the time period being portrayed, and the characters themselves, and do not reflect my personal beliefs. please read with caution and remember to take care of yourself. ily.) descriptions of violence, main character injury (no main character death), foul language, suggestive themes, brief mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks. one mention of suicidal thoughts (but no action).

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of stray kids in reality. this is a fanfiction and should be treated as such. this is not me “shipping” them, these are simply characters based on real life people. i don’t need the minsung antis coming for me.

authors note: this is the last chapter! thank you to anyone who has read this all the way through. i really really appreciate you. <3 now back to your regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. hehe

series masterlist - main masterlist

Han didn’t know what happened. He peeked around Ser Erin’s large frame and watched as Minho peered at the crowd, clearly searching for something, or someone. Han didn’t see Rian approach his brother from behind, didn’t see the dagger in his hand. But Han did see Minho crumple to the floor. His first instinct was to run to him, he tried to push Erin out of the way, he would push everyone out of the way. But Ser Erin was too large, too strong. And it’s probably for the better, because the crowd exploded into chaos. Some were rushing the dais, some were trying to find the exit, unsure of what was happening. Ser Erin grabbed Han and pulled him through a small doorway to their right. The room was average sized, and void of any furniture. Just the cold stone floor and a few cleaning supplies left behind by the maids.

"Stay here." Ser Erin had Han by the shoulders, looking into his glassy, unfocused eyes. Han wasn’t registering what he was saying. He had just seen the love of his life be stabbed by his own brother. Again, Han wanted to run to Minho. He didn’t know what he would do if he was able to make it to him, but he had to try. Ser Erin gave him a small shake. "Stay here. Do you understand? I have to go help the king. But your safety is main priority."

Han focused on Erin’s face. Main priority? Shouldn’t Minho be the main priority? Isn’t that the whole point of Ser Erin’s job? What was Ser Erin doing here with Han anyway?

"You should have been next to him!" Han yelled, placing his palms against Erin’s chest and pushing as hard as he could. The large man didnt budge. "How could you let this happen!" Tears were streaming down Han’s face. He banged his fists angrily against Erin’s chest. The large man grabbed Han’s wrists, holding him still.

"He told me to protect you." Erin explained. "I am trying to go help him, but you have to promise to stay here. If you’re here, I know exactly where you are and that you are safe."

"He told you to protect.. me?" Han asked, confused.

"We don’t have time for this, Han!" Erin raised his voice. "Are you going to stay put so I can go help him?"

Han nodded, shoving Erin toward the door. "Go, go. I’ll stay here."

Outside the small room , the noise started to quiet down. Han paced back and forth, wearing holes into his shoes. After what felt like an eternity, the door cracked open. It was queen mother Charlotte. She quickly gave the room a once over and then swung the door wide. Ser Erin walked in, carrying a limp Minho in his arms. Han thought Minho looked so small draped over Ser Erin’s forearms. The large man carefully placed Minho on the floor. Han hurriedly took his jacket off and folded it up, placing it as a cushion under Minho’s head. Han looked down at him, at his love. He looked peaceful. He was unconscious, the wound in his side still bleeding. Ser Erin had pressed a piece of cloth to the wound and was holding it in place.

"Your Grace, may I ask you to please go fetch the healer?" Ser Erin asked, looking at Charlotte. She nodded quietly before hustling out of the room, the door closing softly behind her.

Han’s tears were dripping onto Minho’s shirt, staining the fabric. "Is he…" Han couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t let his mouth utter the words. What would Han do if it were true? He thought he may find the biggest guy in the kingdom and pick a fight. Or maybe he would climb up to the top of Minho’s tower, to his chambers, and walk right out of the open air balcony and just keep walking. The pain of hitting the cobblestones would be nothing compared to the pain of loosing Minho.

"No. He’s just unconscious." said Erin. "I think he hit his head when he fell."

Han knelt next to Minho, pulling the king’s head to rest in his lap. He used his fingertips to brush the hair out of Minho’s face. Han could see that freckle on the side of Minho’s nose. He loved that freckle. He wished he could see the chocolate color of Minho’s eyes, but instead could only see his long beautiful eyelashes, tickling his cheeks. Han rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth across Minho’s flushed cheek.

"Your Grace.." he whispered. "Can you hear me?" Han squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from falling.

"C-call me M-minho." the king wheezed.

Han’s eyes flew open, and staring back up at him, were pools of chocolate. "Are you crying?" Minho whispered. Han nodded, the tears falling freely now. He couldn’t stop them. "Hannie, don’t cry." Minho reached for Han’s cheek and winced in pain.

"Don’t!" Han reached for Minho but didn’t know where to grab, where to touch that wouldn’t hurt him. So he just held his hands up. "Don’t move. The healer is coming."

Minho continued to stare up at Han, memorizing his face. He had never seen Han from this angle. "You’re cute." Minho whispered.

Han looked taken aback. "And- and you’re bleeding." he said.

Minho laughed, a truly beautiful sound, Han thought. But it was cut short as he winced in pain.

Han looked at Ser Erin. "Where is that damn healer!" he yelled. "He’s in pain!"

"They shouldn’t be far." Erin said.

"I’m okay, Han." Minho tried to comfort him. "Really. It doesn’t hurt that bad."

Han sniffled. "You’re lying." he pouted.

"Maybe a little bit." Minho smiled. He looked down his nose at Ser Erin, who was kneeling at his feet, holding pressure to the wound in his side. "Ser, i’ve been thinking about it for the last few minutes while I lay bleeding.."

Ser Erin nodded. "What’s that, Your Grace?"

"I want you to be king." Minho said.

Han gasped. Ser Erin looked equally as surprised. "Your- Your Grace, I couldn’t."

"You could. You’ve been next to every king for the last 40 years. You would do a fine job." Minho told him. "I’m not cut out for this."

"I am not in the bloodline." Erin argued.

"Yes, but my brother has fled, and if I die then who will be left to run the kingdom?" Minho asked.

"Die?" Han choked back a sob. "You’re not going to die."

Minho looked up at him. "No, i’m not going to die Hannie, please don’t cry. I’m okay." he explained. "But the people don’t know that. the only reason I agreed to take the throne in the first place was so that Rian couldn’t have it. He would be a terrible king. But the people would never have him now after his scandal and after.. you know."

"Stabbing you." Erin finished the bleeding man’s sentence.

Minho looked at the large man at his feet and smiled. "Exactly. But you… you would be a great king."

"And what about you, Your Grace?" Ser Erin asked.

"I think I would like to live a quiet life in the countryside if that’s quite alright." Minho looked up at Han again. "With my little chipmunk. If he’ll have me."

Han looked at Minho, his eyes wide, before looking up at Ser Erin. Minho can’t talk like this in front of other people. This could be bad.

"Erin doesn’t mind." Minho said, reading Han’s thoughts. "He knows how terribly in love with you I am. He doesn’t judge."

Han nodded. And then Minho’s words sunk in. "Wait, what?"

Minho smiled. "I said I love you."

Han looked nervous again, the dragons were back in his tummy, their big wings making him feel nauseous. "I—"

Thee door opened, queen mother Charlotte and a healer in tow.

——

It had been a few days since the coronation, Minho lay in his bed, healing from his wound. The healer said it was a very badly placed stab, or well placed, depending on who's side you're on. He said that Minho was very lucky. Han had been with him every second since. Too scared to leave his side even for a moment. But that had to change today. Today was the day that they got out of the castle. athe people had been told of Minho's death, and his memorial was scheduled for today. All of the people would be gathered in the town square to remember their king that never got his chance to reign. But in reality, Han and Minho would be sneaking out while everyone was distracted. Minho finally felt well enough to carry his own weight, and to hopefully ride a horse. Ser Erin had a plan to lead them out of the back of the castle and put them on a path in the right direction to where they wanted to go. Which was far away from here. Some quiet village on a coast maybe, somewhere they could easily stay hidden and live out their days together. Maybe once the drama surrounding the coronation blows over a little bit, and Minho changes his appearance slightly, they would be able to go out for walks together. Along a small creek, holding hands would be nice.

But Han had a few things to gather before they could leave. He placed a kiss on a sleeping Minho's forehead before quietly exiting the room. He made his way down the hall, headed to his basement bedroom for the last time. He spotted Hyunjin from afar, he was standing down the hall and he was talking to.. Lady Eliza? Han froze. Hyunjin seemed to be holding his own, though Han knew he was freaking out on the inside. He was proud of his friend for having the courage to talk to someone he so admired. Han envied him sometimes. His courage.

Hyunjin looked up and made eye contact with Han. He held up a single finger, telling him to wait there for a moment. Hyunjin said his final goodbyes to Lady Eliza, before bowing slightly and turning toward Han. As soon as Hyunjin’s back was turned to the lady and she could no longer see him, his face broke out into the biggest grin Han had ever seen. Hyunjin practically skipped down the hallway toward him.

"Uh.. what was that about?" Han asked.

Hyunjin let out a little squeal. "She came up to me." He explained. "She said she admired my bravery for telling Ser Erin about Rian’s affair. She said she really values honesty."

Tgey began to walk in the direction of their room.

"That's great, jinnie." Han smiled. "Sounds like she likes you."

"Well I was trying not to let myself get too excited.." Hyunjin was beaming. Han thought he had never seen his friend this happy before.

"Maybe don’t show her Cactus Eliza just yet." Han joked.

Hyunjin playfully pushed his friend, before opening the door to their shared room. Once they stepped inside, the energy shifted. seeing all of Han’s things packed up, though he didn’t have many, really reminded them that this was their last goodbye. at least for a little while.

"How is the king?" Hyunjin asked.

"Dead. Remember?" Han said flatly.

"You know what I mean." Hyunjin sat on his cot, pulling his pillow into his lap.

"He's good. He's healing well." Han pulled at a loose string on his tunic. "We're actually leaving tonight."

"Tonight?" Hyunjin looked a little surprised. "So soon? It’s only been a few days."

Han nodded, grabbing his bag from the corner, stuffed with all of his clothes. "Minho's memorial service is today. Ser Erin thinks it would be good distraction for our escape."

"Ser Erin is probably right." Hyunjin said, quietly.

Han shifted his weight back and forth between his two feet, unsure of how to move forward.

"I’m gonna miss you, you know." Hyunjin said.

"Me?" Han asked playfully. "But you have Lady Eliza now."

Hyunjin chuckled, the sound watery.

"I’m gonna miss you too, Jinnie." Han said, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder.

Hyunjin looked up at him and stood, before pulling Han into a tight hug. "You tell the king that I said he better take care of you." Hyunjin was trying to sound stern thorugh all of his emotion, but was failing.

Han pulled back. "He’s not the king anymore." he pointed out.

"Semantics."

They both laughed.

"Maybe after a little time has passed and we've settled and everything dies down a little, you can come visit us." Han said, sounding hopeful.

"ai would like that." Hyunjin smiled. "I cant belive that everything worked out the way it did. When you came in here that night and told me that you had a crush on the prince, I thought we were all doomed."

"We almost were."

"True." Hyunjin agreed. "But I like to believe that love conquers all. Nothing can stop you guys as long as you have each other."

Han gave Hyunjin the side eye. "That was so sappy."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. "I think it was romantic."

"2ell dont sweep Lady Eliza off her feet too early, with all that romance."

"Shut up." They smiled at each other, pain in their eyes.

"It’s not goodbye forever." Han said, comforting Hyunjin as much as himself, tears pooling on his waterline.

"It can't be." Hyunjin said, holding back his own tears. "We're brothers. We took an oath. You're never getting rid of me."

----

one year later

Han awoke to the smell of cooking food. The smell filled the cottage, and it smelled damn good. Han rubbed his sleepy eyes and threw his legs over the side of the bed. The wooden floor was cold on his bare feet, so he slipped on his house shoes. They scraped along the floor as he struggled to pick his feet up. Down the small hallway, he found the source of the smell. Minho was standing in the kitchen, cooking on the cast iron stove. He heard Han behind him and turned around.

"Morning chipmunk, you hungry?" he asked, smiling.

Han nodded and drug his feet across the kitchen floor until he was in front of Minho. He sleepily laid his head on Minho’s chest, wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist. Minho hummed before wrapping his arms around Han’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He burrowed his face in Han’s hair. Breathing in the smell of his shampoo. The food popped and cracked in the pan, drawing Minho back to the present. He kissed the top of Han’s head before pulling away and turning back to the stove.

A small meow sounded from the floor. Han looked down to see one of their cats weaving his way in between his legs and back again, rubbing along his ankles. He leaned down and gave the creature a small pet. He glanced around the cottage, looking for the other two. Shuffling his way across the room, he found them, curled up together on the floor in a bright patch of morning sunlight. He gave them each a scratch behind the ear. The sound of birds chirping flitted through the cracked window, drawing Han’s attention. The view from their window was picturesque, snow capped mountains in the distance, their horses softly grazing in the field.

Gazing out the window, he felt the sudden urge to cry. The peaceful scenery, the fluffy companions, the cozy cottage, and the once prince, had Han overcome with emotion. Tears brimming his eyes, he gazed in Minho’s direction. He absentmindedly swayed back and forth as he cooked, the princely rear looking extra good in his striped pajama pants. And to think that they almost didn’t have this. They almost ended up in the afterlife, two souls meant to never be apart, never together. But somehow, they managed. Somehow, whether it was the gods, or the universe, or their own luck, Han didn’t know. But he was incredibly grateful for the path that led him here. For the path that led him to his prince.

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