#i love how bad always gives chip golden apples

[hadthatdreamagain]

FUCK YOU *eggifies your snails*

[niskoo]

The forbidden candy bar

pairing: best friend! Sunoo x reader

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: a bunch of swearing, they get a stomach ache LMAO

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: AAAAAH <33 THAT ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS <33333 IT SPARKED SOMETHING BUT THE WRITERS BLOCK IS STILL THERE UGHH

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!

After many busy months of classes, assignments, and exams, both you and best friend! Sunoo finally has time to have a sleepover! When you two were younger, you would usually have one every week, but with school now, it’s like a 2 time thing in a year.

Your mother was kind enough to let you two throw a sleepover after so long, for she would usually not allow them because of school. So here you are, next to Sunoo, under the sheets with a scary movie playing on his laptop. It was your favorite thriller, ‘Us’.

“Jesus motherfucking christ Y/n, why do you like this movie? It’s so scary!” For the nth time that evening, your best friend brings the blanket up to cover his eyes and complains, squirming and flinching at every little thing.

You laugh at his scared antics, “Exactly why I love it! The plot is so good!”

“Fuck no, bye! I’ll just stay under here for a while.” You were getting close to the end of the movie, thankfully, and you told Sunoo to take caution of it. “I really don’t care- actually, I do! I care a lot! It better be ending!”

He only peeks the top of his head, and his eyes, shutting them and muttering complaints of how ‘freaky’ the movie was as you snorted at his struggles.

Despite your differences, you two still stick together after so long, and it amazes you how you haven’t scared him off with all the scary movies you force him to watch with you. You truly think you have power in you.

“No! No no no no! We are watching Up after this! You hear me? Up!” You snicker and nod, munching on a few chips as the credits start to scroll and the eerie music starts to play once again.

“AAH! NOT THE SONG! I'M LEAVING! I'M GOING TO GET SOME WATER!”

“Nooo! Sunoo I’m sorry! Hey! Wait for mee!” You chase after your best friend who runs out the door with no hesitation, chuckling as you hear your mother ask if he’s had to watch yet another scary movie again.

You walk into the kitchen as Sunoo and your mother talk about your strange addiction of scary movies, thinking how Sunoo it is to talk bad about you behind your back. In a playful way, of course.

Your mother then gets up, and bids you and your best friend goodbye as she says she has to go call your aunt, warning you not to scare Sunoo further.

The second her bedroom door closes, you sigh, “I think she loves you more than me,”

“I think so too,”

You choose not to argue, knowing it would do nothing but start a fire between you two that would turn into some kind of bickering.

You look through your cabinets for some more apple juice, for you and Sunoo had a chug competition before the movie. He had to go to the bathroom thrice because of it.

Just as you have sight of the infamous apple juice and start to reach out for the bottle, a certain glint catches your eye and captures your attention. You gasp at the sight of the candy bar that you and Sunoo used to fight for back in middle school, whipping around to your best friend.

“Sunoo!” You whisper yell.

The boy gives you a weird look, glancing at your surroundings to see if anything was off, “Why are you whispering?” You instantly shush and beckon him towards you, telling him to quick up when he simply trudges.

“Okay, okay! Jeez Y/n why are you acting so su- HOLY SHIT!”

Once again, you shush him aggressively, waving your hands around. He shushes back even more violently, jumping up and down in his spot and pointing at the candy bar.

“I know what it is! Calm down oh my god!” You two finally settle down from the mini shush argument you had, turning to the cabinet with anticipation.

“Why do you think it’s in this cabinet? Your mom always hides stuff in this cabinet!” It was true, she always would go with the highest one because she knew either of you would be tall enough to reach it back in middle school.

“I don’t know,” there is a pause of silence as you stare at the golden plastic securing the chocolate good, thinking of how long it’s been since you’ve seen one of them. “Do you think it’s from middle school?”

“I bet you it is.”

“....you wanna open it?”

“Let’s do it!”

And in a matter of just a few moments, the golden wrapper is ripped and abandoned on the ground, it’s job finally done. Surprisingly, the chocolate bar is in perfect shape and condition, despite it being years old.

You two stare at the sugary good, saying nothing as you process what’s happening. “That is not natural.” Sunoo hums in agreement, scrunching his nose up, “I kind of wanna eat it,”

Instead of objecting and expressing how disgusting that idea is, you want to eat it too. It looks perfect, just how you remembered it to be.

“I mean it’s not the stupidest thing we’ve ever done, right?”

“Right.”

Another beat of silence between you two, before you both reach out to snap the treat in two and observe the contents of the chocolate bar. The same golden, melting goodness drips down just how you liked in middle school, and you somehow aren’t surprised.

With one glance with Sunoo, you both mutually agree to eat it, shoving the pieces in your mouth and cautiously chew.

It... it tastes magical. Like the chocolate marshmallow, and caramel aged nicely, like it was always supposed to, only it wasn’t supposed to.

You share a stare with your best friend, expressions showing each other your opinion of what you just did. He doesn’t seem to mind it either.

“I’m convinced this is like wine, it’s fermented nicely.” You nod along to Sunoo’s theory, enjoying the sweet and salty taste of the nostalgic treat of your childhood.

“What is going on?”

At the sudden voice of your mother, you quickly gulp down the forbidden candy bar, stepping on the wrapper to hide the evidence as you turn to her. Sunoo quickly swallows as well, turning to give your mom a nervous smile, “N-nothing, aunty!”

Your mother gives you two suspicious looks, which causes you to give Sunoo a nervous one, and that’s when you see it.

There’s chocolate smudged on his bottom lip, terribly visible. You don’t realize the chocolate smudged at the corner of your lips, but Sunoo sure does.

At the same time, you both slap your hand on each other’s mouths, covering evidence of chocolate on your mouths. And at that moment, you know you’re screwed.

“What did you two eat?”

“Nothing!”

That night, as you two put on your face masks, you feel a certain twist in your stomach, and you know you wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

[colossal-fallout]

All I gotta say is: bodyguard! Porco who's gotta take care of some rich man's (legal age of course) daughter and pounding into her at night because she's such a brat 😩

Yes. All of the yes. Its a little different but hopefully you'll still like it ❤️ if not feel free to request again. I got resident evil 4 Ashley Graham vibes from her so I named her after the president's daughter lol

Warnings: 18+ smut

"Por----co!"

Galliard flinched at that all too familiar screeching; nails on a chalkboard peircing his ears as Ashley rounded the corner with her cheeks puffed out in annoyance.

"What?" He grumbled in response, his already short break ruined prematurely.

"I wanna go in now."

Porco lowered his sandwich with a sigh. "You can't go in without me. I'm not finis-"

"I said, now!"

Porco drops his small meal right there on the floor with an enraged snarl, not able to deny her request else he get his ass handed to him by her dad.

Ashley was 22 but by god did she act like a spoilt fucking brat. Guess he couldn't blame her really, when you're used to having anything and everything you wanted at the snap of a finger. He skulked behind her and her two friends as they walked towards the club, his hands in his pockets. He would almost feel sorry for her due to her lack of attention and love at home.

"Porco, you get our drinks."

Almost felt sorry for her.

An hour later, he was leaning against the barrier that was a few feet above the dancefloor where his client's precious angel was dancing with her pals. His cheek rested on his fist, eyes heavy and bored. He watched her sway to the music, the only elevation of the repentance of this job was Ashley was pretty easy on the eyes. But my god was she annoying.

His eyes flicker slightly when he notices two men who've appeared next to her, dancing along with her movements. Pretty harmless so far - they seemed to be keeping their distance.

"Bad client?" A low voice mutters as one of the bouncers stood next to him, draping his arms over the railing.

It was obvious, especially to anyone else in the business what Porco was - his white shirt and black tie hugging his large form tightly a dead give away.

A sigh leaves his lips but he doesn't remove his eyes from the dancing woman. "...You have no idea."

The bouncer chuckled. "Yeah I've had those jobs before. Just gotta keep thinking of the money."

"That's the only thing that keeps me going." Proco's tone was low and dragged out, practically whining with boredom. "She doesn't know but tonight's my last night watching her."

He tensed when he saw one of the men now placing his hand on Ashley's lower back, whispering in her ear. They began swaying together as he pressed against her his hands roaming.

"You're... Gorgeous." The man whispered in her ear, resulting in a pink flush across her cheeks.

His sneer quickly vanished when a large hand grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him back with ease.

"Come on, stud. That's close enough." Porco muttered.

"Porco! What are you doing?!" Ashley protested, grabbing the man's arm in an attempt to pull him back.

"You're not allowed to be -"

"I don't care! I'm not allowed to do anything! You always ruin my fun!" She screamed, stamping her foot before storming away.

Tossing the man to the side like an empty packet of chips, he pushed his way through the crowd in pursuit of her. If he lost sight of this lady, he's a goner.

God that screach! He thinks as he follows her outside. I'd love to shut her up by shoving my cock in that loud mouth.

He kept a safe distance from her fury as she made her way back to the hotel, storming into their shared room.

He was surprised to find her sitting on her bed, sobbing. Her tragic emeralds soaked wit tears as she dabs her cheeks adorably.

"Ashley?" He frowns.

He'd seen her lose her shit. He'd seen her boss people around. But he'd never witnessed her crying before.

"Oh, it's you. What a surprise." She whispers sarcastically, gazing down at the floor. "I know I'm difficult. But that's just... How I vent my frustrations I guess. I'm twenty two and can't do anything. I have no privacy. I want to have sex. And it's impossible. I'll always have some... Bodyguard casting a shadow over me."

Porco's mouth pulled into a frown. He didn't really know what to say. He was just doing his job. And he wasn't particularly fond of her so he was finding difficult to sympathise on a deep level. He felt some pity though, as she sniffled at the ground.

Her fingers curled into a fist as anger began to bubble up out from the sorrow. "I mean, I can't have anything I want! I want to be able to have boyfriends, I don't want that Mercedes, I asked my dad for a Porsche! But do I get that? No---! Is my dog a pedigree like I asked? Nope! And even then I -"

Her tear soaked eyes widened in surprise when Porco's fat cock shoved deep into her mouth, his large hands on her head, shoving it in deeper. She'd been so self absorbed in her shallow ranting she hadn't even noticed him pulling his hardening cock out from his trousers.

"Will you shut the fuck up?" He snarls, pushing himself further past her sweet lips and down her throat. "You're so fucking annoying." A deep groan passes his mouth at the feel of her tight throat. "If you want to ride a dick so bad, shut up and have mine."

Her eyes were still wide, but she wasn't pulling away. Her skin began to heat up as this large, well built and strong man began to thrust in and out of her mouth.

Porco let our a deep sigh and looked up at the ceiling, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Ah... Just shut up. Fuck..."

"Porco..." She gasps as he pushes her thighs up to her chest and looking down at her bare slit.

His shaft vibrated deliciously as she moaned around him, her heart pounding the extra blood supply down to her already wet pussy. He pulls himself out with a pop, pushing her back harshly and pulling down her skirt and panties with one easy tug.

"Nice and pretty like I thought it'd be." He nods with an impressed frown.

"Are you really going to-"

"Do you want me to sort you out?" He glares.

She nods.

"Then the only words to leave that fuckin' mouth of yours is my name. Got it?"

She nods again, more eagerly.

Her back arches and she calls out loudly when he closes his mouth around her clit, sucking and tasting her, his warm tongue flicking over her frustrated nub.

"Ah~! Porco!" She cries out when he slides his two fingers into her coin slot, activating her loud whines.

"Porco! Oh my god!" She calls out, her grip clasping onto his hair as she rode the golden wave of ecstasy into the next world. Her juices flowed down his wrist as she spasmed and pulled, her cunt just as greedy as her personality. He wasn't going to let her calm down though. Was he fuck.

She fuckin tastes good too. He thinks as he works her, even her moans of pleasure were annoying. Overly loud and high pitched. He couldn't wait to ruin her, finish and never see her again. She begins to squirm around, her tight walls clenching around his fingers, her orgasm already threatening the boundaries of her reality.

Without letting her catch her breath he stood up and harshly pushed his fat head into her entrance, her overstimulated whimpered gasp satisfying him greatly.

Finally got her to shut up.

He kept her legs pressed to her chest rolling his hips deeply, his breathy pants quickly warming the air in the room. His balls slappes against her relentlessly as she stared up at the ceiling with her mouth wide open, totally silent, not able to move with the pleasures his large dick was pulsing into her.

His eyes flashed up at the clock on the bedstand.

23:52.

He pounded faster, her wetness splashing around her and across his stomach and balls, her nails digging into his forearms as she came again, her silent scream not audible in their dimension.

"Fuck." He hisses as her insides clamp down onto him, trying to milk him for all his worth.

"Urgh... Take my cock, you fuckin bitch." He barks, slapping his hand across her ass, hard leaving a red mark. "This is what your daddy should have done years ago, you brat." He snarls before giving another open palmed slap.

He pulls out, once again not even letting her recover as he rolled her onto all fours with ease, her legs trembling as he pushed the side of her face into the bed, re entering her with a gruff groan. She can't see. Her body is overloaded with sesntivity. She begins to drool a little into the sheets, her eyes rolled into the back of her head as shes pounded into oblivion.

"P-por... Porco... Ah... Haa..." She whispers not able to use her basic functions, his cock basically prodding at her vocal chords.

The bed creaks and slams against the wall as he goes even harder, her cunt sucking and spurting, flexing in delight as he hurtles her into another climax, her tongue falling out of her mouth with a satisfied smile not even able to cry out anymore as she cums.

She wasn't worthy of his seed. So a few moments later, he pulls out of her soppy slit and rolls her onto her back, tugging himself as steaming ropes of his thick cum splatter across her dazed face, covering her from chin up to her hair.

"Look at the state of you..." He sighs, catching his breath as he picks up her skirt from the floor, using it to clean his cock.

She lay there, legs splayed, covered in cum, her own drool and sweat.

"That was just a quickie too." He shakes his head, throwing her skirt down to her to clean herself up. But she doesn't.

"Porco..." She finally breathes, coming back to life as he tucks himself back in his trousers. "That was... Oh my god. Can we do that again? All night?"

His eyes go back to the clock.

00:03

"Sorry, princess. My shift is over. You're under someone else's watch from 8am too. Was nice working with - what am I saying? It was a fucking nightmare."

She sits up, her eyes wide. "W-what?"

"You heard me." He grabs his coat and heads for the door. "Take care of yourself, now."

"Porco. You can't do this!" She barks, trying to get to her feet but her legs were still too mangled from being absolutely railed. "Wait until my father hears about this!"

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes. "You can't have everything you want. I'm not a possession. And you're not having me."

"POR----CO!" She screams as he leaves, the door slamming behind him.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - woes of your children

This work, 小朋友的碎碎念, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR’S SON ]

Sometimes, I suspect that I’m not my dad’s child.

It’s common knowledge (well, maybe not), that my dad is the manager and chef of Souvenir. Anyone who has eaten the pudding my dad makes will agree that his skills are superb, and I think so too. My friends at kindergarten are envious that I have such a gentle mum and a dad who’s incredible at making desserts. 

But I think they have misunderstood the meaning of "gentle” and what my dad is really like.

I shan’t start with how my mum is always bursting with energy. Let’s start with my dad. He makes desserts frequently, and the house is often filled with the fragrance of pudding, souffles, cookies and little cakes. 

But... they’re all for my mum. 

Indeed, I’m unworthy of dad’s desserts. 

“It’s not good for your teeth if you eat too many desserts,” says my mum while she eats one of dad’s desserts.

“As a man, you have to work hard to get what you want,” says my dad when I ask him for pudding. I admit that what he says isn’t wrong, but I just had my fourth birthday... 🙃

Normally, dad is very stern with me. He doesn’t let me sleep beside mum, doesn’t let me cry, doesn’t let me lose my temper at mum... It’s as though mum is dad’s child instead.

Actually, I think my mum is the true king of the house. She can get dad’s pudding, can openly challenge him, can act coquettishly with him, and has much more pocket money than I do...

Forget it, the more I think about it, the more I feel like crying. Looks like I should squat next to the dustbin and see if anyone would pick me up. I might be am definitely the most miserable kid in the world. 

[ GAVIN’S SON ]

Dad says that boys will naturally want to protect the girl they like.

My dad is the Commander of Loveland City’s Special Task Force. He’s normally the type who’s cold-hearted and merciless, not even letting plants off. Sounds cool, right? But what his subordinates don't know is that at home, my dad is a henpecked husband.

Even the slightest frown from my mum causes him to worry for the entire day. Sometimes, when mum discovers that dad is injured, she’d cry until her eyes are red. Dad would repeatedly promise that he wouldn’t conceal any injuries from her the next time, and would kiss and hug her, oblivious that there’s a child at the scene.

Oh, I forgot to mention something. In my dad’s eyes, I have no standing at all.

The most precious treasure is always my mum. I don’t disagree though. After all, mum loves me very much, and I love her very much too. It’s only right that I protect her.

“When you have someone you want to protect, you’ll think of ways to make yourself strong,” dad once said to me. “First, you need to learn to sleep on your own, and not stick to mum.”

Although it does make logical sense, I suspect my dad has his own selfish reasons. But I have no guts to say it aloud.

Dad and I have agreed that next time, we’ll protect mum together. I said that when I’m all grown up, I’ll ensure mum can walk on the streets without worrying about getting disturbed by anyone or anything, just like what dad used to do.

After hearing this, dad asked where I heard it from - of course it was Uncle Minor. I watched dad make a call, arranging to meet up with Uncle Minor. After telling mum that he’d be gone for a while but will be back for dinner, he left. 

So what exactly are dad and Uncle Minor planning to do?

[ LUCIEN’S SON ]

In my dad’s eyes, I might have always been an accident.

According to what I heard from the professor uncles in Loveland University, when my mum did a check when having me, the doctor said that I might be a girl. Back then, my dad had grinned so widely. 

When he saw that I was a boy, his face was just as dark as how happy he was back then. I heard that before I was born, everything prepared was pink. Sigh, I didn’t realise that that was just the beginning of my route to more accidents.

Normally, dad looks refined and cultivated, and sometimes dotes on mum a lot. Why do I say “sometimes”? Because I’ve seen dad bullying mum, pressing her down on the bed. Mum even cried. 

Then again, dad is a 180m man, and is so heavy. If he presses down on me too, I’d definitely cry too. Furthermore, mum is a girl.

Dad seems to turn a blind eye to my existence. For example, when we eat dumplings, he’d hold onto mum’s hand, and occasionally hug her and kiss her and things like that. I also want mum’s hugs and kisses...

He can’t even fold a dumpling properly. Even till now, he hasn’t learnt how to make a nice-looking one.

Normally, other people’s parents would address each other by name, or words like “wife” or “husband”. But my dad always calls mum “Little Butterfly”, “Silly Girl”, “Little Sweetheart,” “Greedy Cat”... It’s even more unbearable than how Torvald calls Nora “my little skylark” in “A Doll’s House”.

Despite my complaints, my dad is very incredible. He’s a university professor at such a young age, and even has a research centre named after him. Dad says that in the future, I have to do equally well or even better. I think so too. After all, I need to take care of mum in the future.

It’s pretty late, and I haven’t finished the test paper Dad prepared for me. I’ll stop here.

[ KIRO’S SON ]

My dad treats me pretty well. That is, if you ignore how he often makes me a scapegoat.

My dad is a widely known celebrity, so it’s necessary for him to manage his weight strictly. But my dad fails in this aspect. Quoting what Uncle Savin says, “Kiro, the only thing you know how to do is eat, eat, and eat!”

He doesn't eat alone though. He brings my mum along. That’s right, only my mum.

If Uncle Savin does a sudden check and finds snacks in the house, my dad would lack a conscience and assert that they belong to me. Although I’d feel maligned, I won’t rat him out.

Dad likes calling mum “Miss Chips”, and he says chips are a symbol to their love. But I’ve never seen other married couples eat the symbols of their love.

Apart from snatching snacks from me, he likes snatching toys as well. He’s always the one to open the presents mum gives me. He says it’s because he’s afraid I can’t open it given my young age. If that’s the case, why doesn’t he give it to me once he has opened it?! What a liar. 🙃

Everyone says that I look cute, and I think so too hehe~ My mum enjoys kneading my face and ruffling my hair. I think the only time I’ve won against my dad in my four years of existence is when my mum commented that I’m cuter than he is.

Every time my dad bullies me and doesn’t let me get close to mum, I’ll think of what my mum said. A man has a magnanimous heart, so I won’t hold it against him. When he’s 70 or 80 and balding, while I’m in my wise 40s or 50s, mum will definitely like me more. 

Forget it, I shan’t hold it against him. Apple Box is barking at me to take him out for a walk. His golden hair really reminds me of a certain someone!!

[ SHAW’S SON ]

I think my dad and I get along pretty well.

He likes taking me out skateboarding, and I like it too. But if I were to accidentally fall and injure myself, my dad would be scolded by my mum, and I won’t be able to escape her wrath either.

My mum looks really fierce when she scolds us. Every sentence from her is stabbing. According to her, it was a skill she developed from bickering with my dad when they were younger. Thinking about my dad’s sharp tongue, I do agree that it’s a possibility.

Although my dad looks like a bad citizen, he’s really good academically. According to my mum, he was the only graduate student in Loveland University archaeology department at the age of twenty. He’s the teacher’s pet, a model for his male juniors, and the target of females... I digress. But back then, it was true that many people tried to woo him, but he was only interested in mum.

He loves giving mum nicknames, like “Liu Chun Mei or “Guo Xiaoyu", and "Qing Tingyan". I’m so glad my mum threatened my dad for the privilege to name me. I can’t begin to imagine if my name was coined by my dad, I’d probably be too embarrassed to meet anyone.

[Note] These are the fake pseudonyms Shaw calls her in the Chinese version. In EN, the pseudonym he gives her is “Mary Sue”.

My dad has a unique way of drinking beverages. According to the uncles in his band, my mum used to love drinking bubble tea. But eventually, her tastes got strung along with his strange ones. They’re both pretty compatible hahaha.

His taste buds aren’t the only strange things. His aesthetics are strange as well. Wearing Buddha beads with leathers gloves, a jacket with rivets... My mum says she kept his leather jacket when she was pregnant with me. But once I was born, he took it out again.

It’s 11pm, and dad and I have planned to sneak out to do spray painting on the streets behind my mum’s back. We’ll continue next time.

--

More translated and original works: here

--

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Silence is Golden?

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N don’t get into a lot of fights, but this one will leave you speechless...literally.

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Movie Night

A/N: Hey! Did you know I created a Masterlist?! You can view here (X)!

Every couple has their good and bad days. Some people will even say it’s healthy to have a little dispute once and awhile. For Y/N and Tom, the bad days just kept on coming. Maybe it was due to the work piling up on Y/N’s plate lately, or the fact that Tom was stressing about going to Berlin in 2 weeks for his work. Either way, both of them were under pressure, and with everything going on, it’d be no surprise that even the smallest things would irritate them.

“Tom I told you to put your luggage off to the side. One of us is going to trip with all this shit in our room.” Y/N scolded as she pushed the black luggage to the side of wall.

Tom was sitting in bed, rolling his eyes at his fiance’s comment and went back to focusing on his script. “Well, maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal if you just cleaned the room every weekend like you were supposed to do.” He grumbled as he highlighted his lines.

“I was working the entire weekend. I told you I had a huge release to prep for and last time I rememebered I’m your fiance not your maid. It wouldn’t kill if you could just do some of the chores in the house instead of having me, Harry, Harrison, or Tuwaine do it for you.” She argued, glaring down at Tom with her arms crossed. “Just cause your some hot shot celebrity doesn’t mean you can just sit there and do jack shit.”

Tom looked at her with surprise and anger. He just about had it up to here with her nagging. Tom loves Y/N, but sometimes, like tonight, she was really getting on his nerves, and the next few things he says to her were not so pretty. “Can you just shut up?! You’re always telling me what to do, what not to do, to stop doing this and stop doing that, and god the never-ending chatter that comes out of your mouth.” He spits out not even paying attention to how Y/N was reacting. “Some people actually do prefer some peace and quiet. God, I really can’t wait to go to Berlin just so I don’t have to hear that god awful nagging of yours.” Tom shakes his head as he looks back at his script, until he realized what just came out of his mouth...complete and utter bullshit that he didn’t mean.

It was Y/N’s turn to be surprised. In fact she was speechless, not really knowing what to say to his rant. It hurt a lot, as if her heart had just broken in a million pieces. If there was one thing you needed to know about Y/N, it was that she valued everyone’s view and opinion of her. So, you can best believe that if someone had a problem with her, she would not take it lightly. When it comes from the person you love the most...well...one can’t even begin to fathom how much it could hurt.

Tears were forming and streaming down her eyes, as small sniffles start to escape. Her tiny hands balling up into a fist. She wasn’t just upset, she was furious. “Well, if thats how you feel then, I don’t know why you’d want to be with a person that doesn’t shut up...Cause clearly I’m not good enough.”

Tom starts to sit up on the bed and lean towards her, trying to apologize profusely, but it was a lost cause that couldn’t be taken back. She runs out of the room with her stuff as she moves to the guest room to cry herself to sleep. Tom stays in their bedroom as he looks up at the ceiling with a disappointed face. “What have I done?” He whispers to himself, only praying they would be able to make up in the morning.

The next day, Tom wakes up extra early to prepare a ‘Sorry I’m such a div. Please forgive me’ breakfast with chocholate chip pancakes, bluerberry smoothies, and apple turnovers from her favorite coffeshop in London. And if that wasn’t enough...he had also brought her a bouquet of red roses. He awaited for her to come down, with everything set. As the boys came by to eat their share of the breakfast, Y/N comes down to akward silence. Everyone staring at her and Tom standing in the middle smiling with flowers in hand.

“Morning Y/N.” The boys say in unison.

“Morning boys...Tom.” Y/N mumbes the last word as she makes her way. They continue to talk and eat amongst themselves as Y/N looks for a seat to sit at, but sadly the only one available is the one next to Tom. He looks at her with his brown puppy dog eyes, silently pleading for her to sit next to him. Y/N gets the message as she rolls her eyes, and tales the seat. He present her the flowers once again, smiling off his boyish charm. “Darling, Im so sorry for the way I acted I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad at me. I love you so much.”

Y/N takes the flowers and nods, as she goes back to her breakfast. She ate rather quickly as to make sure she didnt have to deal with anyone and went straight back to the guest room. Tom slouches in his seat, sighing in defeat. “Great the silent treatment.” He says out loud.

“Damn, Tom you must have really fucked up.” Tuwaine said as he took a bite of his pancakes.

“Yeah mate, what did you do?” Harrison asked, intrigued by his best friend’s dilemma.

“You couldn’t hear them? They fought because Tom couldnt do a simple job and then called Y/N a talkative nagging piece of work” Harry answered him, stifiling a laugh. “Im sure the whole world could have heard him.”

“You also forgot, how he said he’d rather be in Berlin than be here with her.” Tuwain mentioned.

Tom glares at his younger brother and Tuwaine, giving them a good shove on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t be mad at me. I’m not the one that had to get his shit together.” Harry defends taking his last bite.

“What do I do? She wont even talk to me and I went through all this work to apologize to her.” Tom asks as he stares at the floor solemnly. “I don’t want her to be mad at me.”

“I don’t know mate. Maybe just earn her trust again. Im sure youll both work it out...you always do.” Harrison reassures him as he makes his way to wash the dishes.

Later that night, Tom passes by Y/N as she makes her way to the bathroom across their bedroom. Tom tried his best to set up the bed as if she was staying with him, fluffing the pillows, pulking down the comforters, and turning up the AC. As Y/N finishes up, she sees him standing at the edge of the bed, waiting for her to join him. “Please? I cleaned up the room and gave you your favorite pillow because you know you cant sleep without it.” He pleads, pouting with his lower lip sticking up.

Y/N looks at the tidy room and the pillow he left her. She smiles when she takes notice of the the one pillow with flowers and ripped edges. It was her favorite pillow since she was 5 and sworn to everyone that it was the only pillowcase she could ever sleep peacefully in. With the thought and gesture Tom made today, Y/N figured it was the least she could do, though it didn’t mean he was forgiven compeltely yet. Tom smiles at his first victory as he climbs in the bed with her. He tries to snuggle closer and wrap his stron arm across her waist, whispering “I love you and I really am sorry.”

Y/N wasn’t too comfortable getting this close still, and ultimately took his hand that was on her waist and dropped it to his side. Tom, felt a slight hinge of sadness when she did that. She never refused his cuddles and anytime they had a fight they would always make up before rhe end of the day. He sighs loudly in silence. Y/N turns around to face his back, and leans over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which takes him by surprise. “I love you” she whispers, going back to her side of the bed.

The next day, Tom decides to take a quick trip to his parents house, who greet him with ipen arms. Though, both his parents, Paddy and Sam, notice the distress on his face. “What’s wrong son?” Tom’s mum asked with worry.

“Mum, Dad...I messed up.” He cries. “ I was just really stressed out this past week, with the movie, and the fans, and thinking about how I have to leave Y/N for Berlin...I-I- just said a lot of stupid things to her that I didnt mean.”

Tom’s mom rubs her son’s back as she tries to console him and calm his breathing. “There. There. Its going to be okay. You know Y/N loves you so much. Im sure you’ll both get through this.”

“That’s the thing mum. I don’t know if we can. She won’t even talk to me. I made her breakfast gave her flowers and even cleaned our room liek she asked me too. I don’t know what else to do to show her that I truly sorry.I told her I can’t wait to go to Berlin so I did have to hear her talk, but thats far from the truth. I don’t want to leave her when we’ve had all this time together.”

“Hmm...perhaps you should do the things that she doesn’t ask you to do. You know Y/N is also stressed with her job as well, she might not have time to get around to all the things that need to be done. Also tell her how you really feel besides that you’re sorry and you love her. You know both of you have had a hard week and there’s a lot of feelings bottled up inside. Just be honest with your feelings. I know you didn’t mean it and Im sure she knows too.”

Tom smiles at the last sentence, realizing the two haven’t really committed to the rules they promised each other, be honest and communicate with each other. “You’re right, Mum. I cant even remember the last time we really talked.” Tom got up up quickly whiping away the dry tears. “I’m gonna go make things right with Y/N. Thank you for everything. I love you.” Tom hugs his mother, before he makes his way ready to set things right.

As he pulls up to the house, Tom is ince again by the door with flowers in hand. Y/N sliently looks at him as she tilts her head curious as to why he’s on his toes...and with more flowers in hand. “Look you don’t have to say anything because I’m gonna be doing all the talking right now.”

Y/N looks at him in surprise, intrigued to hear what he has to say this time. “Y/N. Im know. im such a dumbass, clueless, and careless bloke who didn’t stop to think about your feelings and the things you wanted from me. I should have helped around more, I should asked how you were , and I definitely should have pushed my luggage to the side of the wall like you asked me too many times.” He says chuckling nervously. “And I know I fucked up, but Im really going to to try to make it an effort to listen more, and help you as much as I can. And Im so sorry for being so distant, I just I had a lot on my mind and the fact that I have to leave you, in two weeks when this has been the longest we’ve spent time together, it made me more sad.” Y/N looks at him with a sympathetic smile, almost ready to accept his apology. “So look, I know you’re probably still mad and everything, but Im really hoping this makes it up for you because I really do love you. Every single thing about you and theres only two more weeks before I leave and I want to spend every day, hour, minute, and second with you.”

There’s silence in the air as Tom looks into her eyes, trying to find some answer. “Every day, hour, minute, and second?” She questions him smiling. Tom’s face lights up with the brightest smile hes ever out on. He drops the flowers and hugs her even more tightly than he did with his mother, spinning her around. Nothing sounded better than hearing her laugh, it’s been far too long. He cups her face, kissing her passionately only to pull away and move the stray hairs from her face. Taking in every single detail of her face. “Yes. Ever day, hour, minute, and second..so lets not waste anymore time.” He grabs her hand as he rushed her to their room.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She yells with laughter. Tom sulks and groans, “Aw, what now?”

“You didnt even ask if I forgave you, yet?”

“Well...” Tom says pretending to think “Do you forgive me?”

Y/N looks at him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. “Of course I do.”

“Good. Now let’s go. Got to show you how much I appreciate and love you.” Tom smiles as he pulls her away.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow @joyleenl @kihyunwifes

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 25: A Challenge

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Lacey faces her greatest struggle yet. 

Read on AO3

She wakes up screaming. Her body is rigid, helpless, wracked with pain. Her tongue burns with the sour juice of an apple. Cruel hands are on her, pinching, clawing, grabbing--!

Her husband is already holding her, even before she understands that the nightmare is over. He rocks her back and forth like a child. He strokes her hair and murmurs soft words. He wipes away her tears. 

She cries until her chest hurts. Until she is wrung out from it. Until she has no more tears and her noises are more moans than sobs. He holds her through it all. He never lets her go. 

Gasping for breath, she tries to speak. It isn’t needed, he knows what memories plague her thoughts. She doesn’t need to explain herself to him. 

But she wants to say the words out loud. Fears are most powerful when they are hidden, like monsters lurking in deep water. If she brings them up to the surface, if she exposes them to the light, they will be weakened.

“It was--them.” Her chest heaves. She rests on him. He is there. No matter what, he is always there. 

“They’re not here,” he whispers, as he does every time this happens. “You’re home, you’re safe here, sweetheart.” He takes her hand, presses her wedding ring to his lips. “You are mine now. They will never hurt you again.”

Shuddering, she curls into a ball in his arms. “I know,” she whispers. “I know, Rumple. In my mind I have no doubts. In my heart, I trust you--I do! But these nightmares, these memories… They keep happening.”

“Less and less often.” He kisses the top of her head, clutches her tightly. “That is the way of pain--pain in the body and pain in the mind. It never disappears, but it can lessen. In time.”

She laces her fingers through his. Slowly, her breathing returns to normal. He’s right. For a while, this happened every night. She’d be so afraid of her nightmares that she wouldn’t sleep at all. Now the memories are a disturbance, not a certainty. Someday her terrors will be less than memories. 

“And you’ll be here for me, when I am in pain?”

“Always.” He kisses her head. When she tilts her face up, he kisses her lips. Softly, gently. “I will always protect you, sweetheart. I will always comfort you.”

Exhaustion overtakes her. Still in her husband’s arms, she sinks into the pillows of their marriage bed. 

“I love you, Rumple,” she murmurs. 

He places a kiss on her temple. “And I love you, Belle. I will never let Regina hurt you again.”    

****

It was dark when Lacey opened her eyes. Her chest was tight. Her jaw had clenched as she slept. She didn’t move as she lay on her back in bed and let the dream wash over her. 

It hurt. It always hurt to dream of being loved, of having a husband who loved her. She kept telling herself that it didn’t matter, that she didn’t want Mr. Gold to love her. But the husband in her dreams wasn’t Mr. Gold. He was someone she called Rumple.

And Rumple called her Belle. Lacey was so desperate to be loved that her mind let her imaginary husband call her by the nickname her real husband had given to his boyfriend.   

Fuck, she was a nutcase. 

She had to get over him. These stupid dreams and delusions would never stop as long as she kept yearning for her husband. She needed to give herself to Mayor Mills. She would make everything better. When Mayor Mills finally owned her, then Lacey could stop deluding herself that she deserved love. She was a worthless, trashy, Old Town slut. No one worthwhile could ever love her, and Mayor Mills would never pretend to. Mayor Mills would punish her for existing, just like she deserved. 

It would all happen. Life would go back to normal. All her dreams would come true. Just as soon as she could prove to Mayor Mills that her marriage was dead.  

Gradually, the room lightened around her. She heard the noises of Mr. Gold getting out of bed. Water in the pipes as he washed his hands and brushed his teeth.  

She didn’t move until she heard the shower turn on. That was when she slunk across the hallway to what used to be their room. As she crept over the creaky floorboards, she rehearsed excuses for why she was there. She had forgotten something, some piece of jewelry or clothing she had left in the armoire. 

That was technically true. She was looking for jewelry.

For as long as she could remember, Mr. Gold had never taken off his wedding ring. Sometimes he would remove the large moonstone ring, but never the plain gold band that hid behind it. Not when he did messy house work, not when he showered, not when he slept.

Lacey was probably an idiot for thinking that might have changed, but how would she know if she didn’t try? She’d been watching him lately, trying to see if she could get his ring away from him. Every night for a week, she’d dried dishes that he washed, standing next to him at the sink making stilted small talk. Being that close to him made her want to tear her skin off with a cheese slicer, which was not quite the type of pain she was looking for. 

It hurt to be near him, it hurt to be away.

Quickly scanning the bedroom, Lacey looked at the dresser and the bedside table where he might have emptied his pockets the night before. His keys and his change were in the amber-brown cut glass dish where he always left them. No ring. 

There was a teacup on the nightstand, by what used to be her side of the bed. Lacey pressed her lips together. That fucking chipped cup had ruined her life. It was a symbol of how much he loved “Belle.” Balling her hands into fists, she crept closer to the bed and looked inside the teacup. 

Empty. 

That left only one more option, the riskiest one yet. Silently, Lacey went to the closed door of the bathroom and crouched in front of it so she could see through the keyhole. 

At first, she couldn’t see much through the steam. She knew she would be able to see the sink or the counter or any other place where Mr. Gold might have set his ring down. But as she squinted through the haze, she could see his body through the glass of the shower door. He was standing up, under the spray. His right hand was braced against the wall, keeping his weight off his bad ankle. 

His left hand, the hand where she could see a faint glint of gold, was pumping his cock. 

Lacey bit back a scream. Bastard! He was jerking off? He was thinking about his handsome Belle while still wearing his Goddamned wedding ring?

She backed away from the door while the world fell apart around her. She stared at the chipped cup, as though she could shoot lasers out of her eyes to blow it up. God, she wanted to smash that fucking thing into shards. She wanted to smash her skull in. The voice inside her was screaming and for once she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted to join it. She wanted to scream and wail until there was nothing left of her but pain. And then she wanted her husband--her Rumple--to comfort her, and hold her, and help her put the pieces of herself back together. 

She made it back to her room before she began to cry. She buried her head in a pillow to muffle the sound. Part of her wanted to let Mr. Gold hear, to know how much she hated him, how much she hated herself for loving him. He needed to know how much pain she was in. She had to tell him. She had to make him care about her!

But he didn’t. That made Lacey cry all the harder. He didn’t care about her. She could tell him everything and it wouldn’t change that fact. 

Her dream was even more bitter now. Rumple had promised that he would protect her from an outside threat, from some horrible person named Regina. He didn’t even think that he needed to protect her from himself--or from herself. Rumple would care if she was in pain. He would comfort her, and love her.

But Rumple wasn’t real. 

Rumple wasn’t real, and Mr. Gold didn’t care. Her only hope was Mayor Mills. 

****

One of the best parts of trying to prove herself to Mayor Mills was that Lacey had a reason to care about her appearance again. The ritual of clothes and makeup and jewelry helped her keep her mind off herself. It wasn’t like she mattered. That was why she needed to be decorated. She was just a fucktoy, a thing to be looked at and consumed. 

And she really, really, wanted to make Mayor Mills want to consume her today. Lacey’s hands shook as she attached her thigh-high stockings to her garter belt. These were real silk stockings, with a black line going up the back. Classy as fuck, like Mayor Mills herself. A tight black dress matched the stockings and the black heels. 

Heavy on the eye makeup today. Black mascara and eyeliner, shimmery dark gray on the lids. Sultry, seductive. Maybe just trashy enough that Mayor Mills would notice it, and insult her for it.

“Stupid whore,” Lacey whispered to her reflection as she lined her lips apple-red. She stared at her mouth and tried to imagine it was Mayor Mills speaking to her. “You desperate, needy little slut.”

She breathed. That felt better. 

Her own wedding ring was right where she had left it last night, in the bottom of her sock drawer. The night after Mayor Mills had made her offer, Mrs. Gold had taken off her wedding ring for the first time in as long as she could remember.  It had taken her hours to get to sleep that night. She’d kept rubbing the naked patch on her finger. It had felt so weird, so wrong.

Now it was easier. Today, she was ready to go a step farther. Lacey took the ring out of her sock drawer, but instead of sliding it onto her finger again, she dropped it into her royal blue clutch. Today would be the first time since she had gotten her wedding ring that she would go out in public without it on. At least she’d have that to show Mayor Mills. 

By the time she came down the stairs, Mr. Gold had already finished breakfast. He was folding the newspaper and getting ready to go. 

“Good morning,” he nodded to her politely. Then he stopped and looked again at her outfit. Yep, there was nothing wrong with his eyes or his cock. He just didn’t want her. “Are you going into town today?”

Lacey nodded and kept both hands behind her back. “I’ll grab breakfast at Granny’s.”

She would do no such thing, but this version of Mr. Gold liked to know she ate.

 As he drove them to the shop, Lacey wondered--again--if Mayor Mills knew what Mr. Gold’s ring looked like. One plain gold band was pretty much the same as any other, right? The other day, when he had left her alone in the shop, she had gone through the inventory of men’s rings and picked out a few likely candidates. If she had ever seen Mr. Gold taking off his ring, she would have tried to swap it out with a fake. As it was now, she might still try to pass off shop inventory as her husband’s private property. 

But he would be able to tell the difference if she tried to switch the rings. And even if Mayor Mills didn’t have Mr. Gold’s eye for antiques, she would know when she was being lied to. She was a smart, savvy woman in power. A useless idiot like Lacey couldn’t hope to fool her. 

Lacey, please stop insulting yourself. This is how you let yourself get hurt!  

The voice was getting pushy. Lacey waved it away from her mind like a wasp at a picnic. Besides, what the voice didn’t understand--what no one had ever understood, except for Mr. Gold and now Mayor Mills--was how much she wanted to get hurt.

****

Lacey managed to keep away from City Hall until around noon. She spent the morning walking in a spiral around town, circles getting smaller and smaller as she zeroed in on her target. 

She stayed away from the familiar stores today. If she went to Sugar’n’Spice or Hair Today! she might be tempted to tell Mara or Janine what she was planning. They would try to talk her out of it. They’d tell her that she deserved better--as if they knew anything about her. She also gave a wide berth to Marine Automotive and Game of Thorns. Lacey had only just gotten on better terms with Dad, she didn’t want to have to deal with his judgement again. And Uncle Manny only liked her so much because he remembered a little girl who could repeat jokes and read meaningless trivia out of books.

Her family, everyone who loved her, didn’t really know her at all. They loved the person she was in front of them--fun and smart and hard-working. They would never understand who she really was. Her darkest, ugliest, most depraved self. The part of Lacey that had slipped so easily into being Mrs. Gold. No one could ever love that version of her. 

Good thing she wasn’t looking for love.

Heart in her throat, Lacey climbed up the stairs to City Hall. What time did Mayor Mills usually take a lunch break? She didn’t know, but she would find out, wouldn’t she? If this worked out, she would know the mayor’s schedule intimately. 

As she thought about that scenario, Lacey’s breathing began to even out. Surely even someone as professional and orderly as Mayor Mills wouldn’t be above an occasional nooner. Of course Lacey would be available at any time of the day or night. If the mayor had a bad day and needed to unwind, if she was furious with the incompetence of the stupid bureaucrats and drones she worked with and needed to vent out her rage, then Lacey would be there. Ready and willing. For as long as Mayor Mills would have her. 

Lacey, she’ll kill you. Regina killed Sheriff Graham--she killed Maleficent! And her own father! If you take one step out of line, she will rip out your heart and crush it!

“Mr. Gold already did that,” Lacey muttered to herself as she opened the big double doors. The worst Mayor Mills could do would be to finish what her husband had started. 

The stuttering male receptionist told her that the mayor was in a private meeting, but of course Mrs. Gold was more than welcome to wait.

She sat in a hard red plastic chair directly in front of the mayor’s office. There was a magazine in her hands, but she couldn’t even pretend to read. Instead, she looked at the door. Then at the shiny black and white tiles. Then at her left hand, and the indentation in her fourth finger.  

Hours could have passed. Days, or years. What was time? It felt like she had been waiting all her life, or like she had never been alive before this moment. Or like she still hadn’t been born. Not yet, Not until--

The door opened. Mayor Mills was dressed impeccably in a black pantsuit. The blazer had a thin border of white around the lapels, to match the blouse underneath a black vest that was cut to accentuate her bust. She was stunning. And she was smiling. Not a smirk or a grin, but a real smile that radiated joy and triumph. 

Lacey’s breath caught. How could she have forgotten how magnificent she was?

However, her spirits sank when she saw just who Mayor Mills was holding the door open for. 

It was him. It was Mr. Gold’s “Belle.” The tall, handsome, well-dressed man who had destroyed every hope she’d had of a happy marriage. 

Jefferson!

Unlike Mayor Mills, the man left the office frowning. He held a battered old top hat under his arm, close to his chest. When he saw Lacey, his slate blue eyes went wide. His mouth opened, but it was Mayor Mills who spoke.

“Why, Mrs. Gold!” she smiled. “This is turning out to be a banner day! Please come in.”

The man stared at her, but she didn’t look at him as she hurried into the mayor’s office. She stood in the center of the circle on the floor while Mayor Mills shut the door behind her. There was an extra click as the door locked.

“You know, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to have you back so soon, dear.” Mayor Mills came up behind her and wrapped her arm around her waist. The closeness made her gasp. The mayor’s hand took Lacey’s and rubbed approvingly along her naked fingers. “You’ll find I reward prompt obedience in my underlings.”

With a final squeeze, Mayor Mills broke her contact with Lacey and went behind her desk. An apple sat on the white stone surface. One of the mayor’s Honeycrisp apples, as red as blood. It already had a bite taken out of it. Mayor Mills sat in her black leather chair like it was a throne. 

“Now,” she said, “do you have something to show me?”

“Yes!” Fumbling with her clutch, Lacey pulled out her ring and set it on the desk next to the apple. 

Mayor Mills looked down at it, pleased but clearly expecting more. “And?” she said brightly. “Where’s the other one?”

Lacey opened her mouth. “I--” she began. “I don’t think we really need it. T-there’s nothing special about Mr. Gold’s wedding ring. I can prove my devotion to you in any number of way, Madame--”

“No!” The single word was a wrecking ball, crashing through all of Lacey’s pitiful excuses and desperate begging. “No, that is not good enough, you stupid whore!”

  Despite her fantasies, Lacey winced at the reality of the mayor’s wrath. It took all her strength to stay standing. She didn’t deserve to kneel. 

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. 

“I gave you a job, you brainless blow-up doll! And when I tell people to do something, I expect it to get done!”

“You’re right, Madame Mayor. I’m so so--”

“Get out of here,” she snapped. Mayor Mills grabbed the half-bitten apple off her desk and dropped it into her purse. She started turning off the lights around the office. “Don’t come back until you can get Gold’s wedding ring away from him.” She unlocked the door and opened it. When she looked at Lacey again, some of her good mood seemed to have come back. “I promise you, dear, you’ll have plenty of time to make this up to me. Right now, I’ve got some baking to do.”

And she left.

****

 Standing alone in the middle of the mayor’s office, Lacey heard the click-clack of high heels on tile, fading away. 

“What the fuck?” Lacey whispered. For a moment, she wondered if the voice in her head would say something. But there was nothing. 

She was nothing. 

Nothing to Mr. Gold, and nothing to Mayor Mills. She wasn’t even important enough for them to hate or degrade. They didn’t care about her.

She was nothing. 

It was like she was in shock. She couldn’t move. If there was anything to hear or see, she didn’t notice it. Again she had the feeling of time evaporating into mist all around her. All her hopes of a future had just turned into ash and crumbled away. 

 Slowly, the door creaked open. A man’s head popped into the office. No, not just a man. The man. The man her husband had sex with and called “Belle.” The man he loved. 

“Are you okay?”

Lacey wanted to laugh. What a question! And from what a source! Sure, why not? Why not talk to “Belle”? It wasn’t like it could make this day any worse!

The man stepped into the office. He didn’t speak to her at first. He walked to the desk and picked up her wedding ring. He held it in his palm and smiled. 

“You know, I’ve never seen you without this on, in one form or another.” He held the ring out to her and she jolted back to life.

“How many times have you seen me?” She snatched the ring out of his hand. “I never saw you before a month ago. But I guess it makes sense that you knew about me before I knew about you. The wife’s always the last to know, right?”

The man didn’t match her anger. He just smiled at her, the same kind of condescending compassion usually reserved for children or morons. 

“Why did you think Regina would help you?” He tried to move his hands, but he was limited with the hat under his arm. “Now me, I knew exactly what I wanted, and I demanded payment in advance. That’s the only way to deal with her. She’s not like your husband.”

“Please don’t talk about him,” Lacey hissed. “Or about her. Or about anything! Why are you even here? Just to torture me?”

His smile vanished, his eyes filled with tenderness. “I’m not your enemy,” he said. 

“No, you’re my rival. Are you fucking both of them? Do you seek out people I might have an interest in and seduce them before I can get a chance? Did you dig up my old high school boyfriend and rock his world too?” God, it felt good to be angry, to have somewhere to direct her anger that wasn’t at herself. Jefferson could take it. 

“I’m not fucking Regina.” He was almost sardonic as he said it. “One thing I learned in my travels is don’t put your dick in crazy. That’s something you should have thought of before you came here, missy.”

Lacey rolled her eyes and stomped out of the office. The man stayed behind her until they were out of City Hall. On the front steps, he grabbed her arm. Not hard, just enough to get her attention. Just enough to turn her around to face him.

“So what’s your plan now?” he challenged her. “Regina was kind of loud in there, I couldn’t help overhearing your predicament.”

“And you want to help?” Of course he did, he wanted Mr. Gold all to himself. 

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he said. His mouth twitched and he looked away for a minute. “I wanna know how badly all this has fucked you up.”

She scoffed and began to walk again. She didn’t know where she was going, but it didn’t matter. Away from this weirdo. Away from everything.

 She stopped at the crosswalk and watched Sheriff Swan’s yellow bug turn the corner onto Mifflin Street. Was she going to Mayor Mills’ house? Why? God, was everyone having sex with each other except her?

The man was still following her. “Listen,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk? Maybe you have questions for me? We’ve got a lot in common.”

The thought made Lacey want to gag. The swell of anger was the push she needed to turn on her heel and face this homewrecker. 

“Why does he call you Belle?” she spat. “Mr. Gold doesn’t like nicknames and it doesn’t make any sense to call a man that. So what’s the story there?”

He blinked. The face he made seemed to be genuine shock. He looked her in the eyes when he asked, “You think I’m Belle?”

Lacey was going to scream. “Oh, good God! How many people is he cheating on me with?”

The man held up his hands. “Just me, as far as I know. I can’t imagine him with anyone but me and you.”

“And Belle,” Lacey taunted them both with the name. “I know that Belle exists and I know that he loves her. If that isn’t you, then who the fuck is it?”

Exhaling, Jefferson scratched the back of his head. “Um,” he said. “Wow. Okay. Um. Have you… ever talked to your husband about Belle?”

She bristled, crossed her arms over her chest. “Where do you think I got the piddling information I have? Yes, Mr. Gold says that Belle is real. He talks about her like she’s a woman--actually, he talks about her like she’s an angel, but that’s neither here nor there. He says that he loves her and that she trusts him.”

“Do you trust him?”

Lacey scowled. “Why should I?” 

“Because he loves you.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “No. He doesn’t. Never did, never will.”

The man made a noise, a wordless expression of pity. He looked at her like she didn’t understand something blindingly obvious.

“You can’t expect me to believe that Mr. Gold loves me.”

“Mr. Gold? Nah. But your husband? Honey, your husband loves you more than anything in any world.”

She couldn’t speak. Tears welled up in her eyes. She turned away so he wouldn’t see, bracing herself against a fence. It was plastic made to look like wood, the sort of thing you got in the bad part of New Town. Up ahead, the yellow bug was on Main Street again. Must have been a short visit.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. The man was still behind her. “Isn’t Mr. Gold loving me a bad thing for you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got a wife of my own. I’m gonna see her soon. I’ve got a piece of what I need for that.” He held up the top hat, as if that explained how he was going to get back to Leona. “Point is, there are some people that belong together. They’re a matched set. In one world or another, they’ll find each other.”

Lacey shook her head. “That’s only true in fairy tales.”

Jefferson patted her on the back. “Exactly.”

She shook her head and started walking again, faster than before. Somewhere in the distance, ambulance sirens blared. Behind her, the man picked up his pace to catch up with her.

“You keep following me and I’m going to call Sheriff Swan.”

He shook his head. “Emma’s got her own problems right now. Hopefully, she’ll have her own solutions too. You need to figure out yourself, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Someone called her that. Not this man, not any of her friends or family, no boy she’d ever dated, but a man. A man who loved her. 

Rumple.

Lacey wiped at her eyes again. God, her makeup was probably ruined. “Alright, Jefferson, fine. If you have all the answers, why don’t you tell me what they are?”

The man got ahead of her and stopped walking. He looked at her like he couldn’t believe his eyes. His mouth was open, but it took him a moment to speak. 

“Two questions,” he said at last. “One at a time. First, what do you want from your husband?”

She sighed. There was no way she could tell this man what she really wanted from Mr. Gold. And she couldn’t very well tell Mr. Gold about it either. So she settled for the next best thing. 

“I want him to give me his wedding ring so I can give it to Mayor Mills.”

The man pressed his lips together and nodded. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to tell him that.”

“What?”

“Just be honest with him. Tell him that Regina wants your wedding rings. Tell him that she wants to hurt you and you want to let her. You’ve tried everything else, haven’t you? Maybe that’s the only thing that will work.”

Lacey shook her head. “That would never work! Mr. Gold isn’t going to give me something just because I ask for it!” 

Jefferson shrugged. “He’s fair, isn’t he? Make it a deal, truth for truth. Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

She kept shaking her head. This man might have fucked her husband, but he didn’t know him at all. 

“Second question.” He held up two fingers. “And then I have to go. School’s letting out and I need to see my daughter. But the question is,” he leaned forward, and looked her straight in the eyes. “How did you know my name is Jefferson?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. With a showy flourish, he spun around and put the top hat on his head. Then he sauntered off, with Lacey alone on the sidewalk.   

 ****

She trudged along by herself, from the New Town mansions to the Main Street shops. Unlike her frantic spiral to City Hall, Lacey walked slowly now, in a straight line. There was no avoiding where she was going, where she had to go. But there wasn’t any hurry either. 

He was right--the man, Jefferson, whatever--she had to talk to Mr. Gold. Lying and sneaking around hadn’t worked. But maybe they could make a deal. She couldn’t imagine what he would demand as payment, if she asked to be freed from their marriage.

 If nothing else, Dad would have to start paying rent again. She couldn’t live in Mr. Gold’s house anymore. She’d be homeless, jobless. She could probably crash with Janine or Mara. Live with them and work at Game of Thorns for whatever twenties Dad could spare after he had paid the bills. On the bright side, he probably hadn’t cleaned out her old bedroom. She could still wear her clothes from high school.

It was a bleak future, but at least it was something. It was better than hating herself all the time, the way she did around Mr. Gold. The way she would if she gave herself over to Regina Mills.

Rumple will protect you, Lacey. He loves you!  

And maybe she could beg Dr. Hopper for some therapy. Clearly she had a lot of issues, even before she started hearing voices.     

When she got to the shop, the Closed sign was facing out, even though it was the middle of the day. But the Cadillac was parked by the side door, and she had her key. The bell rang as she let herself in. 

“We’re closed,” her husband’s voice came from the back. 

“It’s just me,” Lacey called. Whoever that was. 

She made her way to the back slowly. Between all the walking and all the emotions, she was wrung-out. Bone-tired and ragged. She slumped on the doorframe and looked at him. These could be the last moments for her to pretend that he was her husband. 

Mr. Gold was sitting at the work table, appraising some kind of antique. It was shaped like an egg but the size of a football. It was gold, and covered with clear gems so huge they had to be fake. Diamonds that big didn’t exist outside of museums. The two halves of it opened on a hinge, and lay flat on the table like a book. Gray velvet lined the inside, covering the indentation meant for some kind of small bottle. 

What was that thing? A holder for a bottle of perfume? A carrying case for an expensive liqueur? Something to do with Easter?    

Standing up, Mr. Gold closed the egg on its hinges and locked it with a key. His hand slipped into his pants pocket. He was hiding something. That didn’t surprise her at this point. As far as she knew, he was hiding everything.

She cleared her throat and stood up straight. “I went to City Hall today,” she announced. 

Mr. Gold pulled a jewelry box off a shelf, then frowned at the dust on top. “Oh really?”

Lacey knew that tone. That dismissive, disinterested voice he used every time he wasn’t growling or snarling. Being ignored was worse than being hurt, and that was all he had done to her in months.

“Yes,” she spat out the word. “I had a meeting with Mayor Mills.”

That stopped him from looking at his inventory. When he turned his head to her, she saw that his teeth were on edge. 

“Why?” he whispered. 

A deep breath. Do the brave thing. Tell him the truth. He loves you.

“Because I wanted her to hurt me.” Lacey had tears in her eyes. When had that started up again? “Because I want her to fuck me, and insult me, and treat me like shit. The way you used to.”

Grimacing, he looked away from her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because she couldn’t do it.” Lacey kept breathing, deep and even. She felt… strong, somehow. Like there was more inside of her than there had ever been before. Maybe bravery had followed her after all. “She tried to play it off like she wouldn’t do it, like it was a principle or something. But I’m pretty sure that something stopped her.” She swallowed, and took a step toward him.

Rumple.

“I think...” she began, and then stopped. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy.”

“Say it,” he whispered. His eyes--so dark, so lovely--brimmed with tears. “Please say it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Another breath. Another step. 

“I had a dream,” she said, “where you said you would protect me from Regina.”

“Yes.” He stared at her. He looked at her like she was the only star in the sky. He moved toward her, arms open. “Yes, I’ll protect you.”    

He held her. He embraced her. For the first time in months, she felt his arms around her. He cherished her. He loved her.

Lacey wanted to melt into him. She wanted to cry so hard she dissolved. But she couldn’t do it yet. There was more that she had to say. 

“In my dreams... I call you Rumple.” 

A shudder went through him and he held her tighter. “Yes,” he whispered into her hair. 

So, Lacey thought, as crazy as she sounded to herself, somehow she was making sense to him. 

“And in my dreams,” she went on, “you call me Belle. Am I Belle? Have I been Belle all this time?”

He broke apart from her gently, and kissed her on the forehead. “No,” he murmured. “But you will be, sweetheart. I promise.”

Moving away from her, he went to one of the shelves. He pulled down a box--a fireproof safe--and unlocked it with two different keys. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see what was inside.

“I think it’s time,” her husband said, “for me to tell you everything.”

Then he turned around, and put something on the work table. It was a knife--no, a dagger. A ruby-pommelled, wavy-bladed dagger. On the flat of the blade, facing up from the table, a name was engraved in black enamel.

Rumpelstiltskin.

Lacey blinked. She had seen that dagger before. Was it in a dream? Or a memory? She looked at her husband, who stood back from the blade as though he had no claim to it.

She looked at it again. She knew that dagger. It was hers. He had given it to her. Long ago, in another world. Or in a dream. Or in a memory. 

Picking it up, she looked at him. Understanding was so close she could taste it, but she wasn’t there yet. All she could do was ask her husband.

“Rumple?” 

[kenmaash]

valentine- a kiribaku fluffshot

hey hoes happy valentine’s day :D

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Bakugou

I held a rectangular box of chocolate in my nervous hands and took a breath. I stood in front of the door to my last class of the day.

C’mon, do it. He’s right there. You can do it, idiot. Get some balls!

Nope. 

I spun around without opening the door and walked right back to my locker. Before I could open it and put the chocolates away, a hand landed on my shoulder and turned me around. I whipped my head towards the source of the hand and glared right into a pair of black and golden eyes. Ashido Mina, the only person other than myself who knew about my plan to give chocolates to someone this Valentine's Day.

“Katsuki! I saw you walk away, you fucking chicken,” she taunted. Her hands rested on her hips and she stuck her tongue out at me mockingly.

“Shut up, Alien Bitch. Have you ever done something like this?” I growled.

“No, but think about it.” Mina raised one eyebrow defiantly. “It’s really not that hard. You just walk up to him and hand it to him. Or put it on his desk. Then you can walk away or stay and see his expression.”

“No. That’s my final answer.” I opened my locker and stuck the chocolates inside. “He probably wouldn’t want them anyway.”

“Katsuki.” Mina’s voice was gentle. “You know he loves you. Eij-”

“Don’t say his name!” I quickly slapped my hand over Mina’s mouth and looked around. “You know I don’t want anyone else to know I have a fucking… crush... on him.”

“There’s no one around. You’re just being paranoid at this point.” Mina’s hands went back to her hips and her eyebrow lifted again. “You know, I could always give them to him and tell him they’re from you.”

“It wouldn’t be the same.” I started to close my locker, but Mina put her foot in the way of the door.

“Put them in his locker, then.”

“What?” 

“Put them in his locker. You know the code to the lock, right? Just put them in there and let him find them.” Mina tapped on Eijirou’s locker, just a few down from mine.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to think it through. It did seem like the best course of action…. No confrontation or explanation, it was hidden from other classmates, and he could reject me by just not mentioning the chocolates.

“Alright. Move.” I shoved Ashido aside and opened Eijirou’s locker. I stuck the chocolates on top of his gym bag, knowing he would grab that first when he left for the day.

“And you’ll see what he thinks about it when we hang out tonight,” Mina added.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.” I groaned inwardly. Our friend group had decided to go to Eijirou’s dorm for Valentine’s day since we were all single. That meant I had to face him with the whole group about the chocolates…. “Maybe this whole chocolates thing is a bad idea after all.”

“Nope. It’s time for class, so we’d better go. No backing out now.” Mina slammed Eijirou’s locker shut and shoved me towards the classroom with her palms on my back. I sighed and let her push me, stumbling when she practically threw me through the doorway to class 1-A.

“Watch it, bitch.” I glared over my shoulder and gathered sparks in my hand.

“You watch it, Blasty,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes. I scoffed and turned away, stepping around groups of people chatting to get to my seat. Right in front of Eijirou. I sat with my feet up on my desk and leaned my head backwards over my chair, staring at the ceiling with stars in my head. A spiky mess of red hair popped into my field of vision, followed closely by a tanned face and a blinding grin.

“Hey, Bakubro!” Kirishima Eijirou’s eyes closed when his grin grew especially wide as he said my name.

I sat up and sat backwards in my chair to face him. “Hey, Shitty Hair.”

“Did you get anything for Valentine’s day so far?” Eijirou asked excitedly. When I nodded, he pulled out a few packages of chocolates from under his desk. “Me too! Some girls and guys from class C gave me these. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings, so I just kinda took them. I hate milk chocolate… do you want them?”

I did a mental fist pump over the fact that the chocolates I had gotten him were dark chocolate. “Nah, I hate milk chocolate too.” I shrugged. “Mina will probably want them.”

“I’ve been summoned?” Mina stepped into the conversation with a mischievous smirk playing across her lips -no doubt because she had heard the chocolate offer.

“You want Shitty Hair’s shitty chocolate?” I asked, resting my chin on the back of my chair.

“Don’t mind if I do! I’m glad we have a few pretty boys in the Bakusquad, otherwise we’d surely starve,” Mina mumbled around her mouthful of chocolate hearts.

Denki and Hanta, who had been trailing behind Mina for a moment now, laughed at this. While it was true that the four of us guys got plenty of confessions and food from people, Mina got more than any of us. It seemed that every day, a new girl was daydreaming or another guy was learning to cook for her. To absolutely everyone’s surprise but our little friend group, Mina had no interest in accepting any of the confessions, so she did her own thing. She allowed people to like her, but multiple confessions or pleads to date them were off the table.

“How much have you gotten today, Mina?” Hanta asked, hoisting a bouquet he had been given and tossing it to Eijirou to examine.

“Mmm, not much straight to my face, but my locker pile is starting to build up.” Mina shook her head.

We all laughed, but were cut off by Aizawa clearing his throat.

“Class, don’t make me expel you all on Valentine’s day,” he said, his voice droll as he stared directly into the eyes of the entire class. Everyone scrambled silently back to their seats and waited while Aizawa stepped out of his sleeping bag and started the lesson.

During the entire period, while Aizawa went on and on about hero history and whatnot, my mind was elsewhere. Stuck on red hair and red eyes, an eye scar and thick lashes. On a shark-toothed grin and an arm on my shoulder. Walking across campus with a hand so close to mine, it would be so easy to just reach out and hold it, but I never did. Strong arms and a powerful quirk paired with passionate ambition. Smile lines creasing on the brow of a beautiful face.

“Katsuki!” A voice shook me from my daydreams. Hanta was waving his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention. “Time to go.”

“Oh, yeah. I was falling asleep, that lesson was so damn boring,” I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. I stood from my chair, trying to wipe the remaining thoughts of Eijirou from my head. Mina grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the classroom; bolting past Denki, Hanta, and Eijirou while I protested.

When we got to my locker, I yanked my arm away and glared at her. “The fuck was that for?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the chocolates. I think you need to tell Ei straight up becau-”

I cut her off. “No. We’ve been over this, and it was your idea to put them in his locker anyways. This is the one thing I’m not confronting him on.”

“Well he might bring it up tonight and then the whole group will know.” Mina crossed her arms defiantly.

I waved my hand in dismissal. “He won’t. He’s too moral or whatever to out me to everyone.”

Mina hesitated. “Well… if you’re sure….”

“I am.” I shoved past her and started walking away. “Don’t fucking bring it up again, what’s done is done. And it’s too late to do something else with it anyway.”

I heard Mina’s soft sigh behind me as I walked back to the rest of our friends.

“There you are!” Eijirou waved at me and Mina as we rounded the corner to the hallway where they stood. “Let’s go! Hanta went to pick up our bread order- I got you curry buns, is that alright?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged.

“What about me?” Mina lunged forward and hugged Eijirou’s shoulder.

“Apple cinnamon rolls.” Eijirou ruffled her hair, making her grin.

“Yay!” Mina hugged Eijirou tighter.

“Can we go please?” I exchanged an exasperated glance with Denki.

“Yeah, sorry!” Eijirou reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “Oh crap, I need my gym bag. Go ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

Kirishima turned and went back to his locker. Denki, Mina and I started our way to his dorm. The campus was mostly empty, since people were going out with their partners or friends to celebrate or mourn this fucking horrible day of love. While we walked, Kaminari rambled about homework and minecraft and other things that just happened to pour from his mind. We stopped at Kirishima’s dorm and I ducked into my room next door to get our party food and drinks from my minifridge.

When I came out of my room, Hanta and Eijirou were standing with Mina and Denki. Eijirou’s gym bag was slung over his shoulder, but the box of chocolates was nowhere to be seen. Mina glanced at me, gaze flickering from Eijirou to me and back again. I shook my head sharply and she stopped.

“Lets go, singles!” Mina raised her fist in excitement and clapped her hands when Eijirou unlocked his door and let us in.

“I’m putting the party stuff on your desk, Shitty Hair,” I said. I brought the three bags of chips, pocky, soda, and cup ramen on Eijirou’s much-too-large desk. Denki plopped onto the floor beside Eijirou’s speakers and put on some music. I felt glad that we were probably the only students left in the school when the Disney Hercules soundtrack started blasting through the room, most definitely carrying out into the hall.

“Oi, Ei.” Mina elbowed Eijirou in the side. “What’s that?”

I looked over to see her pointing at something red sticking out of Eijirou’s gym bag. Oh, fuck. He had taken the chocolates. My brain battled between relief and fear as Denki and Hanta gathered around to look.

“Oh, a few people left chocolates in front of my locker.” Eijirou waved them off.

“Who’re they from?” Hanta wiggled his eyebrows.

Mina’s head snapped up and her eyes met mine, anticipation drifting between us.

“There’s no name on it,” Eijirou said. “They’re my favorites, though! So they either did their research or just got really lucky.”

“Hmm, interesting. A mystery.” Mina stroked her chin. “Anyways, wanna watch a movie? Or play paranoia?”

“Movie!” Denki  and Hanta cheered in unison.

“Totoro!” Eijirou added, causing everyone to clap appreciatively.

“Totoro it is. Thotsuki, can you hand me the strawberry pocky?” Mina blinked at me with innocent eyes.

“Get it yourself, Asshido,” I growled, snatching up a box of chocolate pocky for myself.

“Awwwh, rude.” Mina pouted. She stood up and went to get her own pocky, leaving Denki to put on the movie. “Denki, put Big Hero Six and Howl’s Moving Castle in queue.”

Everyone gathered their snacks and sat together on the floor to watch the movies. Mina and Denki were sprawled on their stomachs next to each other, sharing a bowl of popcorn that Denki had popped with his quirk. Hanta sat with his legs crossed beside them, eyes stuck to the TV but still taking with the rest of us. Eijirou and I sat beside Mina, leaning against the side of Eijirou’s bed with a bag of chocolate covered pretzels between us.

The movies played peacefully, partially serving as background noise to our seemingly never ending conversation. About halfway through Big Hero Six, we stopped talking and the movie captured everyone’s attention. Mina was the first to fall asleep, shortly followed by Hanta, who slid slowly sideways and eventually slumped over onto the carpet with a quiet snore. Denki’s eyes grew heavier and heavier each second until he, too, fell asleep in a heap on the floor. I clinked my iced coffee with Kirishima’s and we grinned at each other; victoriously the final two awake.

Eijirou opened his mouth for a second before closing it again and saying nothing.

“What?” I nudged him softly.

“Well, I was going to ask if you got a mystery Valentine too, but, well, it wouldn’t really be a too. Since I didn’t get one either.” Eijirou’s voice sounded slightly nervous as he spoke.

“What do you mean? That box didn’t have a name. So it’s a mystery,” I said dryly.

“Ah, no. It… it had a name.” Eijirou’s eyes went straight down into the ice of his coffee, refusing to look at me.

“It did?” My heart lurched in my chest. I knew I’d signed it… but why had Eijirou lied before? Was he embarrassed by it and didn’t want our friends to know? Or maybe it was his way of rejecting me? “Um, who was it?”

Eijirou said nothing. He just nodded and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

His words caught me by surprise and I did a double take. “Really?”

He finally looked up at me. “Does it go both ways or do I have to ask you to be mine?” His voice was soft.

“I’m already yours….” I whispered.

Eijirou’s eyes flickered across my face. The room seemed to grow warmer. Which was why my face was burning…. Yes, that was the only reason. Not because Eijirou’s hand rested in my palm, or because his eyes were locked into mine like they were reading my soul. No, it was just the temperature. My heart raced and my mouth opened slightly.

“You’re beautiful.” Eijirou’s gaze broke from mine as he shifted so that he could rest his head on my shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that.”

I stiffened for a moment, but when the warmth of Eijirou’s body seeped into mine, I seemed to melt. I felt my right arm go around his shoulder and my left hand reach for his.

“Thank you for saying yes,” I whispered, leaning my head on top of his. “Will you… still be my valentine tomorrow?”

“For as long as you’ll have me, Katsuki.” Eijirou replied, his head sinking deeper into the crook of my neck. He squeezed my hand with the last word.

I turned my head towards Eijirou, pressing my lips gently to his forehead. He smiled and returned the gesture, bringing up our clasped hands to his mouth and kissing the back of my hand. He then laid his head back down on my shoulder and I felt our bodies melt together.

Forever. I want to be like this with you… forever.

I have never been more at peace.

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i hope you all liked that :) i haven’t written kiribaku in so long, so that was super refreshing for me

word count: 2534

-ash

[innittowinit]

Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence 

Language: English 

Word count: 1855 

Summary:

Tubbo is still with Manburg and never became a spy He never wanted to be the villain, so why is he duelling his best friend? 

LINK

His crossbow quivered, the blueish purple enchants illuminating the otherwise dim walkway. This path had so much history. The prime path; that's what Tommy called it. How he longed to go back to those times, just building random things around the server while Tommy went to cause havoc. He never wanted to be a villain but really does anyway intend to turn out to be the villain? Surely all of the greatest Disney villains believed they were doing what was right so why did he feel so wrong?

"One!"

Wilbur's voice was loud and booming, he took a step forward and as he shook like the leaves on the trees nearby, he wondered what Tommy could be thinking. He probably hated him now, he was always one to hold grudges whenever he was hurt and Tubbo had definitely hurt him.

He felt the wind blow through his hair, swirling around him and fluttering the blazer of his suit, as if even nature itself wanted him off this God awful side. it was too cold to be early October, the leaves were still on the trees and the sun was still setting at 8pm so he wondered why he couldn't stand still, why the air seemed to burn his eyes so bad they welled up and tried to wash the pain out. He wouldn't cry.

"Two!"

He took another step, teeth biting down on his lip so hard he was sure that he could taste blood. If he was still with Tommy he would have been making jokes about Hamilton right now, instead he was with schlatt. He raised his head slightly to catch Schlatt’s eyesight. Why was he grinning? He felt bile rise in his throat, only to be swallowed back down as he let his head hang low, refusing to look anywhere other than his shoes. He and Tommy had come so far together, only to end up here.

History repeats itself, it always does. He, Schlatt and Quackity were the new Sapnap, Dream and George. The thought made him feel ill but he knew it was true, he was on the wrong side of history. He was going to shoot his best friend and he was going to be praised for it.

Why did the air seem so thick? Why was it so hard to swallow? He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his own heart in his ears, not even the mellow chips of birds off in the distance provided him comfort anymore. He was too far gone.

“Three!”

Another step, Time felt like it was going a mile a minute and in slow motion simultaneously, his mind was spinning and his chest felt constricted. He always hated these stupid suits, he’d die for the chance to run off with his friend’s right now, to be able to go live in the woods. They seemed so free and so happy; he wanted to be free and happy too. He’d heard from Eret that they were living in a ravine, that seemed fun.

He glanced over to Wilbur, his brows furrowed in obvious concern and his shoulders were square, perfect posture, it reminded him of their old nation. Technoblade stood to his right -he guessed that was who Tommy had chosen to be his Second, there was a time that could have been Tubbo- and on his left stood JSchlatt. Neither of the two men were Physically taller than Wilbur but they both seemed to loom over the duel with ferocious intensity. He knew the passion in Techno’s eyes would be support for his friend, he wished he could say the same about Schlatt. Contrasting the small smile the royal had been wearing, Schlatt had a completely straight face, his eyes seemed to burn into Tubbos skull as he stared with fury. If he didn’t win this duel there would be consequences. That’s what he had said.

“Four!”

Gripping the handle to his crossbow, he fiddled with the string, putting one foot in front of the other. It seemed harder to load the arrow into it than usual, maybe the universe was telling him to back out, to yell about how his equipment was broken and how he couldn’t participate. Eventually the arrow slid into place though, the green, poisoned tip standing out like a sore thumb amongst the glimmering purple. He didn't want to shoot this, he didn’t want to shoot this at Tommy.

‘How do I keep going?’

The thought echoed in his mind, spinning around and dancing between every crevice of his being. He wanted to go home. But home wasn't there anymore. The walls were gone, the van was gone, the embassy had been destroyed, He was completely and utterly alone. He didn't even have his best friend anymore.

Tommy wouldn’t be having this much trouble, knowing him he’d probably have been excited, running around Wilbur and Techno on his way here, saying how he was going to win. How he would shoot Tubbo.

“Five!”

FuckFuckFuckFuck

He wanted out, he wanted out so bad. His bones felt like they were made of lead as he forced himself to take another step. He was halfway there already. This would be the end, he knew it. After this duel was over and done, he’d have no chance of rekindling his friendship with Tommy. He thought back a few months, they were inseparable, joined at the hip, he loved Tommy, they were best friends. He wished he didn’t care so much, he wished he was stone cold and ruthless like Dream and Schlatt. He wished he could play his part as villain without feeling like he would breakdown every second of the day.

“Six!”

Wilbur's voice seemed to be getting more and more cloudy, he swayed as he took another step forward, crossbow still held limply by his side. He felt rotten. Like his insides had been left out for days and have been feated on by wild animals. There were flies caught in his throat from his rotting organs and he wanted them out. He wanted to open his mouth and yell and scream like there was no tomorrow. He wanted his friend back. He wanted someone to fill the quiet for him so he didn't need to.

“Seven!”

Why had Tommy taken off the L’manburg uniform? Why didn’t he want their nation back? Tubbo was trying so hard to rise in power in ‘Manburg’ just so he could eventually take back their nation. They had fought so hard for this land, why was Tommy just giving it up? He wanted to be mad but he couldn’t bring himself to muster it. Really, he was just sad. Sad that they had gone separately. Sad that while he needed to stay and protect L’manbrug, Tommy could go and make whatever Pogtopia was.

He missed him

“Eight!”

He heard Tommy move behind him, he supposed he was starting to raise the crossbow, wanting to get the first shot.

‘Stupid Tommy,’ he thought, ‘don’t you know id never hurt you?’

He dropped his crossbow to the ground, only noticing when he heard the clatter of the weapon against the wooden path. He looked at it with sad, tired eyes and took a step forwards, not caring to pick it back up. He could hear Schlatt yelling something, the static buzz of an old TV set taking over his thoughts and blocking out whatever his boss was saying.

“Nine!”

He was nearly there, this was nearly over with. He felt dizzy. His throat hurt and his mouth felt cold. Niki ran over and pressed the crossbow back into his hands before running back into the crowd, he only noticed when he felt the weapon between his fingers once again.

Falling to his knees, dirty, calloused hands pressed over his eyes as he heaved and sobbed, his chest felt far too constricted with this suit on. He wanted to be back in the L’manburg uniform, or at least in whatever Uniform Pogtopia had. It was hard to tell. If he couldn’t have the past back, he’d happily settle for his friends back.

“Ten!”

He heard Tommy spin on his feet, stopping and instinctively shooting as soon as he had turned around, only to start yelling as soon as he noticed Tubbo wasn’t going to fire back. It was too late though, the arrow was already spinning, cutting through air as it traveled across the back.

It hurt. It hurt so so bad. And to think he almost shot Tommy with one of these. He doubled over, pain searing through his back as blood pooled and stained his white shirt, leaving a slight dark red on the black blazer on top. He coughed, his eyes felt heavy. He could hear ringing in his ears. Before he knew it, there was a group of people standing around him, but only one voice mattered.

He felt Wilbur lay him down onto his stomach as he helped him take the dreaded blazer off, it hurt. The feeling of the man's cold hands, carefully cutting down the back of his shirt to treat his wound left a shiver in his bones that he couldn’t describe. The fact that it was his best friend who had done this made it so much worse, had it been Schlatt or Dream, he would have had enough adrenaline in his body to lessen the pain.

It was because it had been Tommy. He was never scared of the blonde, he was just sad. And so when Wilbur carefully pulled the Arrow out of his back, he felt every single thing. Each nerve the Arrow touched, each drip of blood that dribbled down his sides, each time someone got too close and their breath blew onto the open wound.

Some whispering, and some more whispering. He felt Niki lay a gentle hand on his back before tipping a potion of healing over the gash. It stung but only for a second before his skin started to rapidly heal itself. Tubbo laid there helplessly as he waited for the potion to fix him up. Niki helped him sit back up, handing him a golden apple to finish him off.

“Thank you” he mumbled as he ate.

His eyes darted to the familiar blonde behind Wilbur, softening when he saw his guilty expression.

“Hey” Speaking through a mouthful of golden apple, the rawness of his throat was obvious “Hi”

They stared at each other in silence before the taller of the two broke and crumbled to the floor to pull Tubbo into a hug, careful to avoid the newly healed skin on his back.

“I..I don’t know why i did that!” “I didn't want to either!” “I can’t stop loving you, even when we’re on different sides!” Tubbo nodded frantically, wanting to express that he felt the exact same but being unable to find the words.

And so the two yelled endless apologies as they held each other tightly in their arms. Tubbo knew he’d get in trouble for this later but right now all that mattered is that they had eachother. And that was okay.

[cold-foam-butterbeer]

Prince of Hell (HP x HH)

Authors Note: Hello and welcome to my Harry Potter x Hazbin Hotel crossover fanfiction, to start of this will be a somewhat happy story with elements of drama, colorful language, sexual innuendos, abuse, and angst but of course it will have fluff, family, and comfort added to the mix. I wrote this because I read a fanfic by Gamer95 about Charlie and Vaggie being a mother to Harry so this is my own take on that premise. This will be my first chapter story so bear with me if my writing is slow. All right then enjoy the first chapter of this tale.

Chapter 1: An Untimely Demise

We start our tale in a small town in England called Little Whinging in the county of surrey on a street named Privet Drive with houses identical and parallel to each other there lies a dark secret in the Number 4 house.

Harry Potter was no means a happy child, at 7 years old he was miserable, unloved and unwanted. His aunt, uncle and cousin hated him with a passion, and they have no hesitation in showing it, being bullied by Dudley and his peers, his Aunt Petunia yelling, and the worst one of all was Uncle Vernon who had taken it upon himself to “discipline” Harry when he did anything wrong with the god-awful number of chores he did or when he did the “freaky” stuff which earned him the nickname “Freak”.

Where were his parents you ask? “Your mother and father died in car crash!!” Yelled Uncle Vernon and Petunia albeit he asked on two separate occasions and got the same answer for each one.

Despite these circumstances, Harry always had hope that everything will get better, he will get away from his Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin.

“everything will get better” thought Harry he always yearned for a life where he could be happy and loved.

Unfortunately, things would take a dark turn on that faithful day of July 12, XXXX.

                                                        0v0

Uncle Vernon wasn’t having a good day so much so he kept muttering curse words while walking and his reddish-purple disposition did not help in easing the looks people were giving him as he trudged on the London sidewalk.

“Fucking...sponsor…not up to standards my foot…Ill show him…” muttered Uncle Vernon due to a potential sponsor not liking the company standards and its work ethic.

Soon he reached a pub and while still muttering to himself he took a seat in the pub “Bartender!!!” he bellowed startling everyone and the customers next to him.

“Buddy keep your voice down, now what do you want?” asked the bartender. “whiskey on rocks” Uncle Vernon angrily muttered. “coming right up” as he poured the drink and gave it to him “hopefully he doesn’t cause any more trouble” thought the bartender.

                                                       0v0

Harry was peacefully laying in his cupboard when his digital watch that he found because it was too small to fit Dudley chimed informing him it was 9:00PM.

“I better go to sleep, I’ll probably do a lot of chores tomorrow too” thought Harry as he suddenly remembered that he needed to weed the garden tomorrow and dreaded the summer heat that the weather forecasted for tomorrow.

“I’ll probably get sunburned again” Harry thought when suddenly he heard a door flew open and startled him.

“What was that?” thought Harry then his cupboard was violently opened Uncle Vernon looking at him angrily.

“Come here boy!!!” as Harry was grabbed by the collar of his large hand me downs from Dudley “Now listen here boy.” Uncle Vernon whispered to him, Harry could smell something like the red liquid from the green bottle that his Uncle and Aunt had visitors and when he was tasked to clean the dishes.

“We are going for a ride and don’t even dare make a sound” Harry could only whimper and nod as he was dragged on to the car, Harry thought he was going in the back seat when Uncle Vernon suddenly opened the trunk and threw Harry in “remember boy not a sound” hissed Uncle Vernon as Harry was enveloped in darkness.

Harry was terrified, he couldn’t see where he was and the ride wasn’t exactly smooth, he would bang his head on the ceiling of the trunk whenever Uncle Vernon drove over a speed bump or a pothole.

“I wanna go back to my cupboard” Harry whimpered borderline ready to cry but he couldn’t, he would always get disciplined whenever he cried.

“Stop that crying boy!! the voice echoed in Harry’s mind when he cried because he got a cut when weeding the garden one time. Harry was brought out of his thoughts by screeching brakes, he just realized they have stopped moving and suddenly the trunk was opened.

“Come here boy” the walrus of a man growled and suddenly Harry was being dragged out to what seems to be a cemetery.

“Where are we?” Harry asked with dread while looking at his surroundings.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out brat” Uncle Vernon sneered, suddenly he threw Harry on the ground.

“I’m going to enjoy beating the daylights out of you boy” as he threw a punch to Harry’s stomach knocking the wind out of him.  

“It hurts I can’t breathe” thought Harry as he struggled to even get air into his lungs when he was suddenly picked up and slammed to a nearby gravestone.

“Where not even close to finish yet boy, I’ve been in a bad mood since that shitty client stood up to me and frankly I need a way to vent my anger… on you that is” said Uncle Vernon as he threw another punch to Harry’s face, his glasses broken and chipped with his cheek bruised and now sporting a black eye

“Pl-e…ase... n-o…. m-...ore” croaked Harry but Uncle Vernon didn’t listen to instead he picked up a nearby branch Harry couldn’t fight anymore, he was helpless he thought as he looked at the raised branch swinging before his eyes.

                                                       0v0

Uncle Vernon with blood on the branch and on his calloused hands looked on at Harry’s mangled body with disgust and left the cemetery.

“Stupid old coot won’t know... I drove pretty far away...” as he muttered back to his car and peeled off. Harry couldn’t move.

“It hurts everywhere” Harry tried to move but to no avail “everything will get better” he chanted but despite this mantra he felt his strength slowly leaving his body.

“I’m cold… I want my mommy and daddy” Harry sobbed as he closed his eyes tears welling up at corner of his eyes a flash of his life flashing before his eyes, his time with the Dursley’s, his time on the dark cupboard, running away from Dudley and his friends, the principal and teachers looking sad at him whenever he tried to tell them about Dudley, it was just too much his breath was fading until it was no more.

Harry Potter was dead and it would shake the human realm to the very ground Muggle and Magical.

                                                         0v0

Hell, Pentagram City – Unknown Location

Hell wasn’t always like what they have written in famous novels and in the Bible, it would have been more compared to the city of New York than a realm with 9 circles or just a fiery inferno with the damned souls climbing a rope of spider thread brought down by God.

“Well some of those things did happen at one point during my reign here” an unknown figure mused in his seat while swirling a golden chalice filled with red wine and a cane shaped like a snake with a ruby shaped like an apple place at the top.

“Give me this week’s new inhabitants” snapped the fingers of the individual.  

“Yes, my lord” a female demon with claws that are as long as tree branches wearing a skin tight body suit with white lines on the calf part vanished and suddenly reappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Here you are my lord” as she handed over a clipboard what appears to be a list of individuals.

“Hmm just serial killers, corrupt politicians and riff raff” he lazily flipped through the pages until he caught on to a certain name:

Harry Potter – Age 7, Death by murder by Vernon Dursley.

“Well well the wizarding world’s savior has died” he grinned this is perfect a diamond in the rough he thought.

“I need to get him down here but how?” As he set down the chalice “Give me everything you know about Harry Potter now!” he yelled.

“Yes, my lord” the demoness disappeared “Here you are my lord” as she handed him a red folder.

“be gone with you, I have important business to attend to” with that order she left the room without a word.

“Now let’s see what I can exploit resulting your death Harry Potter” he grinned maniacally “7 years old, Son of Lily and James, no…. how about injuries… *flip* broken bones... how about magical injuries… hit with the killing curse by Lord Voldemort… perfect… let’s put your pathetic mistake to use Tom” as he grabbed an ornate knife made of silver with rubies dotted at the handle and carved an intricate casting circle on the floor.

“ Let’s send your soul down to Hell Tom only thing is it will have a little passenger in for the ride” as he cut his hand and drops of blood dropped to casting circle and with a few second it crackled with red and green energy.

“The blood has been paid… the ritual is set… bring forth my heir into my Dominion of Death!!!” as he slammed his cane into the ground followed by an intense light of red enveloping the chamber where he stood. “I’ll see you soon Harry Potter” he laughed menacingly in to the crimson brimmed sky of Hell.

                                                        0v0

Harry was feeling strange, he was floating in what seemed to be like clouds and it was so bright and he saw something falling.

“Feathers?” he thought and he could have sworn he heard singing then a thought came across Harry he had watched a religious documentary during the Holidays and he learned about Heaven where all the good people go when they die. “

I’m in heaven?” questioned harry “I can see my mommy and daddy now…” he bit back a sob when suddenly his scar started hurting.

“Ahhhggg!” Harry groaned in agony his scar feels like it’s being burned and ripped open at the same time. The pain caused harry to faint and suddenly his body was falling nowhere to be found into the dark abyss.

                                                        0v0

Hell, Pentagram City – Back alley

Harry was feeling nauseous and his head hurts as he opened his eyes, it was all red and blurry.

“Where are my glasses” he squinted trying to find them until he found it next to him on the floor.

“There” as he put on his glasses clutching his head and trying to make sense of what happened.

“Where am I?” as he looked with confusion and fear as his checked his surroundings he was in an alleyway there were no white clouds, it was dark and red as he looked up into the sky it was a dark crimson with a star shaped symbol far as the eye can see.

“Where is this? Harry quivered as he tried to get up and get out of the alleyway.

“This place is scary” as Harry was walking actively avoiding the “monsters” and looking small when he suddenly fell in to ground.

“Move it pipsqueak” a big monster that looks like a cross between a boar and a shark wearing a black t shirt ripped at the sleeves and has a multitude of tattoos with distinctive patterns. Harry slowly picked himself up and continued walking until he saw a group of the creatures drinking from a bottle, slowly Harry walked up to them.

“Excuse me…” as Harry said this the group stopped drinking and eyed Harry with annoyance. “Where am I?” Harry shivered.

“Where the fuck do ya think you are dipshit??” one of the monsters with tentacles for hands snapped at him this cause Harry to shrink back and flinch.

“This is heaven… right? The beasts looked at each other and then laughed.

“Kid does this look like fucking heaven to you? Just because you transformed into a kid doesn’t even you have to be this fucking stupid! One of them said.

“But… I am a kid…. I’m 7 years old…” Harry whimpered.

“What the fuck?! You’re 7 years old? And you got sent to here to Hell?! Asked the demon in disbelief.

“Hell?... this isn’t heaven…” Harry’s blood ran cold.

The creatures laughed “Welcome to Hell kid” A demon with large claws and fangs approached him.

“You know you’ll do nicely as a punching bag or toy” Harry was beyond horrified now as he tried to run but was ultimately grabbed by the squid demon.

“Nuh uh, You are going to fetch us a high price kid! Maybe we’ll even get a shot at screwing Angel Dust” He grinned.

“No please! I’m sorry just let me go! I just want… Mmph! Harry cried as he was gagged by the tentacles of the beast

“Shut the fuck up boy! Or you’ll gonna have to feel these” the demon rubbed his claws to Harry’s cheek who bit back from crying but tears were still streaming from his eyes and was already walking with Harry still gagged.

“Why is this happening to me” Harry thought “I just want to be happy, I just want to be with my mommy and daddy.”

Harry’s emotions were all over the place fear, sadness, guilt but he had this buzzing in the back of his head something that was replacing all his fear, and sadness then everything came back to him, the Dursleys, the discipline, the beatings, not giving him any food it all came crashing down and at that moment Harry felt pure unadulterated anger and rage.

“Oh man were gonna nail Angel Dust after this and were gonna be… AGHHHH!” the demon screamed and looking at his dismembered tentacles he dropped Harry to the ground.

“You are gonna fucking pay for that you shitty brat” He yelled as he brandished a knife suddenly Harry stood up black smoke covering his body then disappeared all at once revealing his body with claws meant for ripping flesh, fangs long and sharp akin to a Viper, and his eyes were sporting a black sclera, iris and cornea an acidic green and his pupil instead of a round shape it was replaced by a slit.

“This kid can do a full demon transformation?!” one of the demons yelled. “He’s just a kid come on we can take him!” the clawed demon said to them and suddenly pounced when Harry suddenly disappeared and reappeared next to the demon biting his neck full force.

“ARRGHH fucking brat bit me! Get him off!!!” he trashed “he fucking poisoned me!!!, Get him the fuck off!!!” The demon suddenly fell into a heap then Harry looked at the other two demons baring his fangs “Fuck man let’s get out of here!!” as both of them ran towards a nearby alley but when suddenly they were pinned down by Harry

“He is so fucking strong what the fuck” the tentacled demon yelled.

“Die” Harry muttered he brought his clawed hands down on them and screams of agony and pain were both heard that night.

                                                          0v0

“Fucking finally this shit’s over, I’m never gonna do a double shift again” groaned Angel Dust as he left Porn Studios.

“Hmm… should I swing by the hotel or back to my apartment?” He pondered when he suddenly heard pained screaming in the alley.

“Screaming happens often here but that was too painful for it to be considered normal” as he cocked a revolver and pistol with both of his hands and cautiously made his way to the alley.

Harry was in a daze, he didn’t know what happened after he was dragged away by the monsters.

“Where am I” he said groggily putting a hand on his forehead when he felt something sticky and warm on his hands.

“What is this!” yelped Harry. “Is this blood…” he was scared then he suddenly went sick when he saw the murdered bodies of the demons who gagged him, blood everywhere, internal organs peeking out.

“What happened” then terrible thought passes Harry “Did I do this….” He was beyond sick but he was broken in his inner thoughts.

“Freeze! put yer hands up!” Angel yelled. “Woah what the fuck happened here!” Angel was shocked at the carnage before him but was even more shocked at the trembling form of Harry with blood on his hands and face.

“Kid? did you do this?” Asked Angel in disbelief that a kid can do something like this “Are you even a kid or just a really small demon?” Harry was confused and scared when he looked at the things the pink monster was holding then the creature started walking up to him then with a sudden rush of adrenaline Harry bolted out of the alley way.

“Woah wait up!  And he’s gone, fantastic” Angel hid his guns and stared at the sky “How can a kid fucking murder a bunch of demons 5 times bigger than him?” Angel scratched his head then with a groan. “Maybe I should go to the hotel… The princess might know somethin” Angel contemplated as he started walking to the Happy Hotel.

Notes: That’s a wrap guys, so just a bunch of world building here and there and our saviour has met Hell’s most popular porn star. To clarify things I haven’t made this timeline canon to the Wizarding universe since it contradicts some of the characters deaths like Vaggie so I trashed that all together. Expect in the next chapter Harry will meet Charlie. Anyways I’ll try to keep updating ASAP until then see you next time! Peace :3

[cabin-fever-bang]

Campfire Stories (Vol. 1)

Welcome to the Cabin! We proudly present the first edition of Campfire Stories: your one-stop shop for quality quarantine content. 

We’re going to do these regularly, with in-depth reviews of everything that’s been submitted as a prompt fill and additional recommendations from the masterlists of writers who get involved. 

If you’d like to be one of those writers, just follow us, comb through our prompts, and be sure to tag us when you post! It’s that easy. We welcome all fandoms and pairings. 

This batch of reviews was cooked up by @thoughtslikeaminefield​ (MJ), @there-must-be-a-lock​ (Lou), @itmighthavebeenintentional​ (Val), @fangirlxwritesx67​ (Viv), @cracksinthewalls​ (Bri), and @mskathywriteswords​ (Kathy), but we encourage you to pass along the random acts of writer-love and reblog with your own additions! 

Pull up a seat, toast a marshmallow or two, and settle in for some excellent reading material.

Choices We Make - @becs-bunker​ - GIF prompt submitted by  @dawnie1988​ 

Pairing: Demon Dean x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, brief threat & violence, smut, language, dub con-ish, unprotected sex, orgasm denial

Words: 1374

Everyone loves a Demon!Dean fic, and this is a good one! Lots of action, lots of angst, and some really hot, awful Dean.

Honestly it all felt like some surreal nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You just wanted Dean back, your Dean.

These lines summarize both the Demon!Dean story arc and the narrator's frame of mind so well, pulling the reader right into the perspective of the story.

“I missed you, y’know?” Dean sighed, and the naive part of you wished he was telling the truth. That somehow, deep down, he still loved you.

This is heartbreaking because it's relatable, because the author does such a good job with the narrator's voice.

Dean licked his lips and there was a familiar hunger in his green eyes that made a whole different sensation rise in your body, and it wasn’t fear.

I'm not going to quote any more lines from the story because the author has written one hell of a twist, but trust me when I said, I gasped out loud reading it. The rest of this story is an absolute roller coaster, well worth the ride.

- Viv

Come For Me - @fangirlxwritesx67​ - image prompts created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy​

Pairing: Sam Winchester x female reader 

Warnings: smut, canon level violence, fingering, first time together

Words: 3100

First, let’s talk about this aesthetic. It’s soft and beautiful, but stark and needy. I love the quotes and photos, the way they flow together. Fantastic visual prompt. "Sam Winchester?” He spoke in a theatrical, mocking tone. “Ooooh, I’m frightened." This line made me chuckle. I love the idea of what’s ahead of us. The bad guy is built up in a hilarious way. Sam is presented through the heart and mind of the narrator, you. But thinking of Sam suffused you with a warm confidence. Not for one moment did you doubt him. This confidence is contagious and warming. Meanwhile, the anxiety over the vampire lurking somewhere else, waiting to taste you… it builds in a beautiful and believable way. There’s a rush of emotions as Sam rescues you, and he’s patient and kind, even while making jokes and being the Sam you know and love. Things progress, and there’s a beautiful and sweet (okay, and hot!) sex scene, with a first time between Sam and you. All in all, a really solid piece, with some story, some tension, some sex, and a whole lot of sweetness.

- Kathy

A New Day - @becs-bunker​ - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock​

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: fluff

I’ve not reviewed an image prompt before, so let’s just jump in. The first word that jumps to my mind is light, but I love how suffused and golden the whole image is. Softer, safer, intimate. There are little pinpoints of light, rays of light, shining light, and the whole thing makes me feel...well...light. Sunrise and candlelight, new day, new beginnings. 

The images chosen for Sam, the angles and features we get, are such close, personal angles and shots, giving us this tender atmosphere and setting the tone for this story: personal. Everything you're about to read is intimate, personal, and private, in such a lovely, delicate way. 

The curtains in that first shot are so filmy and ethereal, and the whole story feels like it’s set in a kind of golden-hazed forest. And, let’s face it, any sort of vacation for a Winchester is a kind of fairy tale. 

I’ve managed to stay pretty much above the brow, so Imma have to dip down for a minute and just drool over Sam’s trapezius muscles. Oh. MY. GAWD.

Golden, glorious, graceful, and just a touch of gooey. Good, good, good.

So, right off the bat, let me tell you that this story is everything I’ve ever wanted for Sam, like everything the show and Chuck and the universe has ever denied him. He’s rested, he’s comforted, he’s bathed in glow (the sun, the reader’s love, all that jazz, you know?).

And then it goes and hits all my camping weaknesses. I was literally just telling someone how I’m missing my camp more than ever now. It’s been eight years since I’ve been, and this story brings back all those feelings of serenity and calm, voluntary isolation with people you more or less chose, because camp was and is my forever real home.

I know that seems a little rambly and off-topic, but the thing is, that’s what this story is for me. They aren’t at the bunker, their “home,” but they’re still home all the same, because (and, yes, you can shoot me for this) home is where your heart is, so this wonderful little cabin in the woods is home, whether they’ve been there together once or a hundred times because Sam.

And then that bit of sugar tossed in at the end...Oh, this story was good for my soul. “Warm mug of coffee on a chill morning, under a blanket” kind of good for my soul. 

It’s one of those where I would love to have so much more of these two, of this warmth between them, but I also am perfectly content to know them just in this one perfect moment forever, before the day starts, when everything is still in the “it’s about to happen and it will be great” stages. The beginning of a great new day.

Thank you. I needed this story, now more than ever.

- Val

Crash  - @myinconnelly1​ - requested by @adoptdontshoppets​ for @idreamofplaid​ aesthetic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff

Words: 810

The first thing that draws my eye in the aesthetic is the linked fingers. I love pinky links (I’m sure there’s a less cutesy way to say it, but I like it; sue me). They’re sweet, and really personal. You’ve got super tough Dean Winchester who isn’t embarrassed or afraid of intimate, goofy gestures. In fact, I feel like that would one hundred percent be Dean in a relationship: Dean is a giant ball of goofy, intimate gestures. 

I love the choices of relaxed, bearded Dean/Jensen paired with the casual, cool color palette immediately set me at ease. This isn’t going to be a terrifying, angsty ordeal. This is going to be calm, soothing, sensual. 

And the roses, the sand, the surf, the candlelight, the pokey palm tree fronds...I can hear, smell, feel every bit of these images. The golden-pink wine...ugh. This whole experience is a trip to paradise.

I love how all five senses are emphasized and made equally important. It gives us so much more connection to the moment, makes it that much more intimate. The constant crashing of the waves in the background; the bittersweet chocolate; the cozy, homey image of the baking-wrecked kitchen followed by the much more erotic, candelit bedroom; and then the scent of the oil mixed with the warmth and strength of Dean’s touch.

I also love the level of comfort in the story. We have the cookies, a hard-core comfort staple. We have the warm, lazy beach setting. And the easiness these two have together: that’s the dream, my friend. I love how they have no trouble at all communicating what they want and need, how they are comfortable enough to be messy and cute and flirty and sexy, one right after the other. 

And the description is so thorough, I have no trouble at all imagining myself there, in that wonderful, relaxing moment.

This story is relaxing, decadent, soothing, and fun all at once. I am a huge fan of the ending, as well. I was smiling through the whole story, but at the end, I literally laughed aloud. And now I think I’m going to have to excuse myself to go find some chocolate chip cookies. This story gave me a couple of cravings, and as Dean Winchester is in short supply in the real world, cookies are the one I can satisfy right now.

This story is, dare I say it, such a sweet escape. 

- Val

No Sugar Added - @myinconnelly1​ - requested by @fangirlxwritesx67​ - “I’d like to see Steve Rogers from MARVEL sharing Depression-era coping tips. Maybe he vlogs how to make apple-less apple pie.” 

No pairing

Warnings: Spoilers for Infinity Wars + Endgame, mention of mental health issues

Words: 446

This was my prompt for the Cabin, and I loved what this author did with the story! A little bit of fluffy cheer.

“Hello, I’m Steve Rogers.  As many of you know, I’m also Captain America, and I was alive during another time of hard living conditions.” 

Right now, a lot of things in the world seem scary and unsettling. It's one of those times when we turn for comfort to the lessons of the past, to the wisdom of generations, and to heroes. This author does a great job with Captain America, Steve Rogers. His cooking lesson is exactly the sort of inspiring, instructional video I would love to see.

“What is that smell?”  Natasha asked as she looked behind her to see Steve walking into the office with the plate.

Because it was never about pie, apple or otherwise. It was always about comfort. Our favorite foods help with that, and so does Captain America, especially written this well.

There are some fun tidbits in this story, including a peek of history and an actual recipe!

- Viv

Communion - @thoughtslikeaminefield​ - requested by @mskathywriteswords​​ “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female character

Warnings: marijuana use, high sex, het sex, fluffy smut

Words: 1002

How do I love this? Let me count the motherfucking ways. 

First of all, the way this sucks you into the characters’ headspace is beautiful and subtle and masterfully done. It’s in the sentence structure and the flow of the words; there’s no need to describe their inner state, because it’s written into the movement of the sentences and the choice of words. She doesn’t have to say that they’re high, because you can fucking feel it in phrases like “It’s sending me off somewhere…” or “I shiver at the thoughts careening through my mind.”

Second, this is molten hot, but (as with the best smut) it’s not just some rote story of “then he was hard and we banged and it was great.” The sexy bits are unique; this isn’t the same smut you’ve read a thousand times before. It’s got its own personality and tone and voice that very much belong to this particular story. 

Also? Filth with feelings! My favorite genre! It’s deeply emotional. I am all for smut that is both dirty and tender. This is like a masterclass on how to walk that line. 

It’s such a simple premise that becomes so much more; this has things to say about Dean, about his personality, about this relationship. This takes a very specific moment and uses it as a framework for something big and meaningful. This, for example: 

When Dean has to be big, he uses his whole self. His body takes up space and his mere presence -- he can make the darkest of demons shudder with his presence alone.

But Dean’s natural state is this -- nesting, nuzzling, curled up and warm.

Yuuuup.

Also: 

His hands -- the same hands I’ve seen thrust a blade into the guts of angels and demons -- are tender, fingertips light but persistent as they slip under my tank top and splay over my belly.

It’s so intimate. This is why we read fanfic, right? To feel like we’re close to these characters that we love so much, to delve into the sides of them that we don’t get to see much in canon… this fic feels like something personal and private that we’ve been lucky enough to be let in on. 

- Lou

Deeper Than Deep Conditioner - @fangirlxwritesx67​ - requested by @awesomesusiebstuff​ “The two Sam’s (our Sam and AU Sam) maintaining their hair care routines while quarantined.”

It’s one of those days when I’m feeling too fragile for this world. What’s the best remedy to knock some sunlight into my dark mood? Today, it’s fic -- and one that makes me giggle is a bonus.

This little gem is filled with funny one-liners and side-eye moments to make you laugh out loud:

Dean dreamed of driving away, of bikini beauties on the beaches of Rio. Sam dreamed of scarves and what it would be like to have no bigger worries in the world than his hair.

The look Dean gave him would’ve curdled milk, if there was any, which there wasn’t, because Dean took his coffee black, like a man.

A touch of realism in this bizarro situation got a chuckle, too:

“Sorry, sweethearts,” alt!Dean said, “Flights are all cancelled. A virus or something.”

When Viv named the alternates Deano and Sami, I gave in and embraced the madness. I was delighted with Deano; that’s my own nickname for Dean in my head. But Sami, a most pretentious twist on Sammy? A master stroke. I was tickled.

I was fully on board with enjoying this romp through the bizarro world, but then I was taken by surprise. This little moment, a hint that Sam has been trying to make the best of their circumstances, touched me: 

“Is this really how you live?” said Sami, with a dismissive glance at his paper napkin.

“Look,” Sam answered. “I’ve done my best. It’s taken a lot to get us this far.”

I was prepared for that to be the exception to the rule -- a moment of sincerity amongst a sea of lighthearted fun. And there was plenty of fun ahead of me. The jokes come at you hard and fast in this story! But I realized the mood was steadily changing, and suddenly, I was immersed in sincerity and maybe a little sadness:

...somewhere out there, was a universe where he pampered himself...

...maybe there was a place where he could enjoy something as simple as a deep condition...

...something Sam had wanted to watch but never had time for...

...for the first time in a long time, he caught himself laughing...

I thought maybe that was it. A few moments of Sam learning to appreciate what Sami (I was still laughing at that) had to offer, instead of simply mocking his manbun and scarf (I don’t think I could ever stop mocking that, but Sam’s a better person than I am).

But no. It didn’t end there, and I still wasn’t ready. Before I knew it, I was steeped in Sam’s melancholy, his yearning for a life kinder and gentler than what he’d been given. I was truly heartbroken for him in that moment.

I won’t spoil the rest, but by the time I got to the ending, I was grateful for the funny beginning that softened the landing. I expected a comedy, but what I got really was deeper than deep conditioner.

- Bri

Dear Mr. Fantasy - @itmighthavebeenintentional​ - image prompt submitted @thoughtslikeaminefield​

Warnings: SEASON 15 SPOILERS, bit of angst. 

Words: 2157

I found the image prompt in my Tumblr feed and immediately started plotting ideas that I cannot write bc I have too many fucking WIPs so imagine my excite when one of my all-time favorite fic writers (and one of my very best friends) filled the prompt as a surprise for me!

Val tells stories with a depth and humor like no one else I’ve ever read. Her natural wit and smarts shine through her fictional words as well, and I love seeing glimpses of her in her work.

In one universe, someone neglected Baby (couldn’t have been Dean, had to’ve been Sam) to the point where she pulls slightly to the left. Dean spends the morning after that dream with a muscle tick in his cheek and a suspicious, side-eyed glare for Sam that he never bothers to explain.

Dear Mr. Fantasy is bittersweet. It is soft and rich and full of color — all the senses are here. It’s a sledgehammer of realism wrapped in velvet. And it’s so very Dean.

At forty-eight years old (none of that years young bullshit, either; he’s old, and he’s goddamn earned it)

In the midst of reading canon Dean dreaming of and admiring and protecting his favorite of his AU-selves and that version’s life, we are treated to what it would be like if he was allowed a normal life. Our devoted, brave, warm, and loving hunter as a common mechanic would be just as brave and loyal, no?

“Pretty sure she’s settled on ya, so just make sure you’re worth it.” 

So that’s what Dean did. 

But our Dean — the Real Dean as Chuck says — can’t quite let his guard down even in his dreams of another world, even if that other world is safe as houses. He’s still aware of just how unreal this reality is.

Splashes of indigo and orange paint the horizon, framing her approach in a wash of colors blending into shadows that hold no danger.

Then, he lets himself mingle with that dream, if only for a few moments and it’s bliss.

Older Dean and worn-out, monster-plagued Dean sigh together, content down to their bones. This life is it for both of them. She is it. One Dean still can’t believe his amazing luck after all these years, and the other aches at the simple, total happiness he feels honored to witness.

I love you, she whispers, and he allows himself to believe for one moment that she’s talking directly to him.

I’m not going to spoil anything for you, but I will say that you need some tissues. I cried through 90% of this story, from joy and from heartache. 

Because that’s what Valerie does, breaks your heart and makes you smile, and it is so fucking good.

- MJ

Synesthesia - @there-must-be-a-lock - request by @wendibird​ “SPN, Sastiel, due to all the Angelic Grace Sam has been exposed to over time, he starts resonating with Castiel’s. Especially if Cas’ emotions are running high.”

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Castiel

Warnings: none!

Words: 750

First, I love the song that enhanced this idea for Lou. It lends a tenderness and whimsy to the plot that isn’t inherent. 

Second, Lou’s words are like poetry and watercolor doing a dance of their own making — GORGEOUS phrasing and rhythm.

Cas whirls around, and Sam is hypnotized by the bright blue in his eyes, wide and concerned in a way that makes Sam feel like he’s being lit up from the inside. There’s a floodlight in his chest. 

And, y’all, I don’t even go here, but I swooned SO HARD.

It’s an effort to focus, but when he meets Cas’s eyes, Cas smiles. Sam sees a shower of sparks like the last fizzle of a firework.  

Sam hears it as a flutter of spring green like a new leaf. 

And Lou’s characterization is always spot on, right? But like Dean isn’t even in the scene, yet here we are.

Don’t let the words fool you; there’s a very angry rainbow happening in his head most of the time.

And did I mention the ARTWORK that is this woman’s WORDS?

There are stars under their feet, entire galaxies spinning out around them, dancing spirals of kaleidoscopic green and gold melting into whorls of brilliant blue.

Anyway, please go read. You’ll be flying high for hours afterward. xox

- MJ

Salvation - @dontshootmespence​ - image created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy​

Pairings: Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: angst, torture, gore, smut 

Words: 1,401

The aesthetics by this artist inspire stories just because they are so well done. This one was a good balance of handsome Sam and some nice suggestive pics along with the phrases that helped shape the action of the story.

This story feels like an episode of the show from earlier seasons, just the right balance of angst and monster fighting with tantalizing peeks of smut and feels. Excellent job!

There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left.

These flashback scenes are both hot and tender. The voice the author  gives to Sam is spot on, achingly familiar.

"You're Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood."

It's easy to forget, sometimes, all the things that Sam has been and done, how fearsome of a hunter he is. This story reminds us with razor sharp precision.

When he meets her gaze, he finds the peace he's craved for so long.

The contrast between the flashbacks and the action is painfully good.

What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose?

This is a well drawn distinction between the Winchester brothers, and such a good characterization of Sam!

"You're safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me." 

Such a beautiful relationship between Sam and this woman! It's no wonder he's fighting so hard to save her.

This story has an imaginative plot, fast paced action, some sweet hotness, and such a good Sam!

- Viv

The Second Hand Unwinds - @mskathywriteswords​ - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock​ 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: hurt, comfort, angst

I had a vibe in mind when I created this aesthetic but this went so far beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It absolutely nailed that nostalgic, wistful, antique-photo-album feel, and then it managed to knife me in the fucking gut in a few ways, none of which I saw coming. 

The JOY in the first part of this is absolutely tangible. It’s so romantic and sweet in a very dreamy way that feels exactly like first love. I love the scattered, disjointed imagery around the flowers in the first part, like flashes of memories coming at you all at once, and then when it settles into the narrative it manages to hold onto that dreamy feeling while still moving neatly through the plot. 

This moment was about us, and I wanted to live in it forever. You never gave me reason to cover my body, not that night or ever.

Goddamn right. Ugh, precious and beautiful. And then this:

After so much undiluted time together, I had no idea how to sleep alone. I felt raw waking up by myself, not being able to feel your stubble tickling my skin. 

There’s something about that last line that just grabbed my heart and tugged it in a wonderful way. It’s ACCURATE, first of all; this is one of those super-specific feelings that is hard to describe concisely. I haven’t really thought about that feeling in a while, but that little sentence just cut through so many years and brought me right back in a deep and visceral way. 

You took pride in doing all the things that were never done for you, you’d told me.

Ouch. It’s little touches like this that make this ring true to character even though it’s a very different Dean than we see in canon.

And then that ENDING. 

How do you contain a bomb once it’s been set on fire with grief?

Fuck, dude. Everything about that ending was so painful. I love that she left it raw and messy and not like a simple “welcome back!” kinda moment. 

This was just gorgeously done. Can not recommend it enough. 

Fort - @there-must-be-a-lock​ - prompt by @mskathywriteswords​​ “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty.” 

Pairing: J2 x reader

Warnings: blowjobs and weed. 

Words: ~2150

This piece of deliciousness opens with Jensen walking out of the bathroom with a towel on his hips; do I need to say more? I don’t, but I will. After some beautiful description of the blanket fort, we get treated to Jared in nothing but pajama pants. The descriptions in this piece are vivid and full. the way Jared’s hand looks between Jensen’s muscled shoulderblades, thumb stroking back and forth between patches of gold and red light, makes me want to capture the moment and hold onto it. I can see that image in my mind, picture the two of them together, and that’s what makes excellent writing for me. The warnings attached to this piece are fully applicable; the story is very cute and sweet, there’s weed, and there’s Jared and a wicked oral fixation, which in the case of this one-shot means dear Reader, that’s you, get to witness a searing blowjob from one J to another. The way these three interact makes my heart swell, and there’s something about watching the dynamic change between them that really hammers home just how functional they are together. Dive in to this universe, Everything. There are no regrets to be had, maybe only that you waited so long to get wet.

- Kathy

The Gazelle - @thoughtslikeaminefield​ - requested by Anonymous “I’d really love some more Dean x Benny fanfiction, AU, aligned with canon timeline, whatever. I think they deserved a chance and Benny got killed off before it could even be explored :(”

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x AU Benny Lafitte x unnamed female character

Warnings: power exchange, mmf threesome implied, Denny apparent, nudity

Words: 1000

Let me start with a caveat: I’m in the bag for pretty much any Dean x Benny fic, pretty much any Dean x Benny x person #3 fic, and absolutely any MJ fic. So you could stop reading this review right now and just go read the fic, if you want; in fact, I sort of recommend it, because it’s better than anything I could have to say about it. But if you want to stick around, I promise to be a little more coherent than ZOMGGGG PERFECT HOT SEXY TIMES DENNY LOVE GORGEOUS MORE PLZ!  

Before we even get to the words, we’ve got a gorgeous graphic. Black and white beautiful boys, staring you down with those “I’m gonna fuck you so good” eyes, paired with a sweetly sexy woman tinted with a soft pink; she looks carefree, open to have some fun, and you can imagine her telling them to bring it on. MJ’s graphics are always great, setting the perfect mood for her fics, and this is no exception.

And right from the jump:

Dean and me — we share a lot of things.

We share good music and good drink. Tonight, we’re sharing a good woman.

Oh, this is in Benny’s voice?! Okay okay okay, cool cool cool, I can handle this…

...Dean purrs like a jungle cat as he hovers behind her, hands in her hair, twisting and twirling the silky tresses…

...Dean sets the pace and is the anchor, always. He keeps everything stable and grounded…

And now I’ve realized that I’m going to be seeing Dean through Benny’s eyes -- and no, not cool, can’t handle this -- but I’m definitely not stopping.

I like to mix things up, though, and he lets me.

MJ is a brilliant writer with many talents, but I think her specialty, regardless of what characters she’s writing with, is brilliantly salacious smut that’s steeped in emotion. She can’t help it. Her fucks come with feels, every single time, and I hope it never changes. 

This piece is certainly no exception. Dean and Benny are circling their prey, this unnamed woman, utilizing their individual strengths -- Dean’s encouraging, I’m demanding -- and the sexual tension is building with soft touches and lingering kisses. As the scene is progressing, Benny’s inner monologue is sprinkled with thoughts about Dean:

Times we don’t have a subject, Dean’s focus is on me. I don’t argue and I do not complain. Dean knows what to do with every inch of that long, lean body of his. He knows how to cage a person in, make them feel safe, wanted, fucking needed.

She’s handily building emotion and a personal backstory without an exposition dump, without taking focus away from the action for too long:

His hands move slowly, seemingly random, but I know how focused he is on her and the moment. Giving and seeking pleasure are vital things to Dean and he takes the acts to heart.

I’m immersed in the now of this scene but I also understand the depth of their feelings for one another, their history and dedication to each other, and how they work together to bring another partner into their orbit. MJ makes it look easy, when it’s anything but. 

And then she gifts us with this perfection and I’ve melted into a puddle of emotionally aroused goo:

“You promise to love, honor, and cherish ‘til the morning light, Dean?”

That is a vow of devotion to a one-night stand. What?! How?! Does her brain come up with this?

From there, the scene continues, the action escalating, supported by a framework of realism and heart. Her Dean feels familiar and in character, even though we’ve never seen him in this particular situation. And Benny, we hardly knew ye, but she brings him to life alongside Dean and I buy their relationship completely. I buy all of this, and now I’m invested.

And then… 

“Do it, then,” she says, challenging. “Wreck me.”

My breath catches, my heart starts to race -- yes, here we go! -- a few more sentences, one last connection between Dean and Benny, and then --

Oh, you are evil, MJ. You are so perfectly evil and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

- Bri

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Fourteen

Luke doesn’t know how he gets so lucky in life. 

His Aunt Beru always told him that he had the kind of luck that meant he should play the lottery, as soon as he was old enough to do so. It was always the little things, like he could find Uncle Owen’s keys when he lost them in the house (usually stuffed under the couch cushions, near the corner) or that if something fell off of the counter, he could catch it before it broke. Or his phone, which managed to land face down every single time and not crack. 

But there was luck, and there was luck and Han Solo felt like Luke was cashing in all that lottery luck in one fell swoop. Not that Luke minded. Having Han around was worth having bad luck for the rest of his life, if that’s what it took to have Han around.

Because Han was the best. He was smart, and he was funny, and he had a big fluffy dog that growled at everyone, but let Luke pet him any time he reached out for him, his fluffy brown tail thumping against the ground. Luke was lucky that Han started talking to him outside of their flight school classes, because he’s pretty sure he would have flunked out of everything but simulation time if he didn’t. 

And Luke was so, so close to being able to take a plane up in the air. He couldn’t lose that, even to someone as amazing as Han Solo.

Not by himself, of course. That would be years before he’d be able to do that. But he’d be able to go up with the instructor, and finally be able to fly. It was all he had dreamed about since he was five years old. Finally being free. Finally flying. Seeing the clouds from the inside, knowing the feeling of the yoke in his hands and the wings responding to the gentlest of touches. Flying was going to be absolutely amazing, and he knew.

Luke was also pretty sure that flying would feel like holding Han’s hand. 

Like they were doing now, fingers laced together as Luke tugged Han down the beach with him, bare feet in the sand. They’d both left their shoes and socks behind a rock that was far enough in that they didn’t have to worry about the tide coming, and rolled up their pant legs to just below their knees. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

The sound of the waves washing up over the sand was like a whisper, a comforting familiarity. “I came out here a lot, when I first moved here. When my parents died.” Han squeezes his hand, but doesn’t say anything. Han understood that sometimes, there were no words to fix a bad situation. He knew that being there was all that Luke needed. Han was like the waves. Sometimes he was right there next to Luke and sometimes he was farther than a phone call away, but he was always within reach. A constant.

“When I sat out here, it’s like I couldn’t hear all the thoughts in my head. The ocean drowned them out.” Because they had been a nightmare carousel of horrible images, always circling around and around in his head. What was he going to do with his life now? Was Leia going to be okay? How was he supposed to wake up every day and know that he couldn’t hug his mom?

Luke could feel those dark, suffocating thoughts building up in the back of his mind. He closes his eyes, just like his therapist Ben taught him, taking slow, mindful breaths. Ben had told him that it wasn’t about outrunning your feelings, or escaping them. It was about naming them, and letting them be. Then letting them go.

Luke doesn’t even realize they’ve stopped walking until he feels Han’s hand on his shoulder, a slow and steady pressure that he can match up with his breathing. In, and out. In and out. Like the waves on the shore.

Sure enough, after a few more deep breaths, the feeling passes. Luke looks over his shoulder at Han, that same giddy flying popping to life in his chest when Han grins back at him. “Sorry.” 

Han shrugs. “No skin off my back, I’m not in a hurry.” But Chewie is, romping in circles around them and barking, his leash getting caught around Han’s ankles. “Alright, alright you big furball. Sit still for a second, will you?”

Luke tries not to laugh. Han talked to his dog the way most people talked to their siblings. It was kind of adorable. But Luke knew if he said anything about it that Han would just roll his eyes and brush him off. So he kept all thought of adorableness to himself. 

Once Chewie was free from his leash and able to bound down the beach in front of them, Luke takes up his spot again at Han’s side, lacing their fingers stubbornly. He got here himself. He was the one brave enough to make the move, he was the one who shoved Han up against his hunk of junk car and kissed him, even when he was scared out of his head. 

So yeah, he was going to take all the hand holding he could get, even if Leia rolled her eyes at him and Aunt Beru whispered behind her hand to Uncle Owen about how cute he was. Look at him Owen, he’s in love. Isn’t he darling?

Luke would be darling, so long as he could be it with Han. “Where are you taking me, anyway?” Han’s curiosity had a way of coming out sounding like a gripe. The best thing Luke ever did was learn the difference between Han griping for the fun of it, and Han actually being upset with him. One of them happened a heck of a lot less than the other, and it took the anxiety right out of being around him. 

And if there was one thing that Luke Skywalker had enough of, it was anxiety. 

“It’s a surprise, okay? You have to be patient.” Patient was’t a word that anyone used willingly for Han Solo. Especially walking down a deserted stretch of beach without a cloud in the sky or a person in sight. Luke could see how you could wonder just what in the world was going on. But that was part of the fun. 

Because he knew what was hiding down behind that next outcropping. He knew every inch of this beach. “You know, I could be working on my car right now.” See, that? That was Han griping just to hear himself talk. Maybe that’s what happened when you spent most of your time with a dog. You forgot other people could take part in conversations. 

“You could, but then you wouldn’t see this.”

Luke ducks around the rocks, tugging Han into the small cave they made on the edge of the beach. It was barely tall enough to stand in, and only a few feet deep. But it was a cove of quiet, no sounds of the highway nearby, just the crash of the waves and the gulls overhead. 

And the crackle of the candles Luke has slowly been hiding here for the last few weeks. There were tea candles from a pack that Leia bought, spread out on the higher edges of some of the rocks. There was even a caramel apple candle that Aunt Beru had in the top of the linen closet. 

They didn’t really light the place up, but Luke liked the look of them, tossing golden light and dancing shadows across the moss and the sand and the curves of the rocks where they jutted against each other. 

“Ta da!” Luke lets go of his hold on Han’s hand to stand in front of him, arms thrown out wide at his surprise. Behind him, there was a blanket (that’s why he found the caramel apple candle) held in place by two heavier rocks that Luke found out on the beach. “It’s a picnic. Just for us.” 

Chewie was sniffing around the blanket, wet nose snuffling and crusted with sand. And Han was fighting a smile, Luke could see it in the way he kept turning to take in the sights, even though the cave itself was only a little bit wider than Luke’s outstretched hands. “You did good, kid.” Those words made Luke’s chest feel tight with joy. “But I have just one question.” 

Han held a single finger up. There was a punchline coming, Luke could feel it. “Where’s the food?”

Luke sputters, looking around him in frantic circles. “Oh crap! I knew I forgot something!” The picnic basket, with its pilfered snacks, was sitting on the edge of Luke’s bed right now. “Aw man.” Luke runs a hand through his hair, stomach like a stone where it sits near his bare feet. He screwed it up. “I’m sorry, Han. I wanted this to be something special, to show you how much you mean to me. And I really screwed this one up.”

“Hey.” Han’s voice was honey smooth when he stepped in, a hand against Luke’s cheek. Luke leans into the touch, greedy as ever for Han’s attention. There was something about it that made him feel like the center of the universe. “I don’t need a picnic to know I mean something to you. You show me every day.”

It eased some of the knot of worry in Luke’s chest, and the next breath out comes a little easier. “It still would have been nice. I had crackers and grapes and everything.” No wine, because sixteen year olds couldn’t buy wine. But there was a bottle of sparkling water in the basket, to give them that bubbly feeling.

“Who are you telling? I skipped lunch today.” Chewie snorts, and Han shoots a glare down at the dog. “Yeah yeah, so I had a bag of chips. A filling lunch that does not make.” Han shakes his head, and turns his eyes back to Luke. “But I’d much rather find a use for our privacy here than worry about food.”

Luke swallows, and all thoughts of feeling bad about ruining the moment are gone with the way Han was looking at him. “I bet you can think of a whole bunch of ways we could use this place, huh Han?” Because Luke’s mind was running ninety to nothing right now with thoughts of all the things they weren’t able to do in Han’s car, or in Luke’s bedroom, where Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen wouldn’t let him shut the door all the way. 

“See? Now we’re on the same page, kid.” Han’s hand was warm where it was pressed against Luke’s hip, and he folds like a house of cards to sink down and sit on the blanket, a pile of knobby knees and pointed elbows that makes room for Han immediately. It was like Luke’s body had already learned muscle memory about Han, where to turn and twist and unfold to make room for him. 

And right on cue, Han kneels down in front of him and guides Luke back to a prone position, a hand against the back of his head to keep him from smacking it against the ground. (That was one of those things he loved about Han. He could grumble and complain, but he would always do what was best for people in the end. He had a good heart, no matter how much he wanted the world to believe he was a scoundrel.)

“Hi.” It’s a silly thing to say, with Han’s nose brushing against his. But Han smiles at him and the sun rises in Luke’s chest, and he doesn’t have a single brain cell left in his head to feel insecure or silly.

“Hey kid.”

And then Han kisses him, and the universe at large falls away.

[notchesandbullets]

Halloween Special: Caramel Apples and Tricksters [Oneshot] Modern AU (Part 1/2)

Part 1

Words: 4k

(OC from my fanfic: “The Varied Path”)

They had finally fully settled into their new home, and the girls went a little crazy with the decorating, as Halloween was just around the corner. Hand-painted jack-o-lanterns stood guard at the front door, and colorful lights were hung at the front of their mansion.

Inside, every single surface was draped in marigold tablecloths and cinnamon candles burned brightly, the spice wafting through every inch of the house. Garlands were draped over the railings in an artful arrangement of autumn leaves and cranberries. The usual white towels in the bathrooms and the kitchen were replaced with seasonal ones and Zeno added a bit of spooky touches all over the place.

Plastic bats hanging from the ceiling upstairs, a ghost at the foot of the basement stairs, and several well-placed traps so that whenever someone opened up a cupboard, they got a face full of goo launched at their head.

But in a house full of trained agents and spies, it was more fun than anything else to try and dodge the sticky substance.

The leaves had changed shades, indicating the much beloved season transformation by the one and only Calista.

She loved how the forest green gradually transformed into ruby reds and lavish golds, leaves spiraling gently to the ground as the autumn breeze whispered by. It was the season of pumpkin spice, fresh air, apple pie, and warmth that came from sitting by the fireplace with a mug of hot cocoa and homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Hak and Jae-ha had undertaken some projects for the new house when they first moved in during the summer, installing top of the line appliances for the giant kitchen. A huge fridge for Yoon to stock with all sorts of food to feed the hungry bunch of eight, and a state of the art oven complete with a industry standard stovetop.

They had also turned the unfinished, extremely creepy basement into an automated training space. They all used it for shooting practice, hand to hand combat and wrestling.

Kija had repainted nearly all of the rooms in the house, with a little help from Yona and Zeno. While they were doing that, Shin-ah and Calista were busy helping the movers bring all of their stuff inside under the direction of a pretty boy genius barking out commands at the front door.

"You!! Bring that into the kitchen, but watch out for the paint and the tools lying around."

"Don't forget to grab the rugs, those need to go in first before we can put any of this away."

"No— No!! I need this first before you bring in that!!"

"BE CAREFUL WITH THAT, IT'S GLASS YOU IDIOT!!!!!"

Calista chuckled to herself as she carefully maneuvered around the sharp corner from the hallway that led from the foyer. Panting with exertion, she helped Shin-ah move the plush sofa into the living room. They set it down heavily, but luckily Yoon was too far away and too consumed with drilling the movers to hear that they may have scratched his hardwood floors.

Wiping the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand, she grinned at the blue-haired man who was scanning around for any boxes that needed unloading in their vicinity. She pushed herself up onto her feet, punching his shoulder good-naturedly when she passed him.

"C'mon, I'll race ya!!"

She broke into a sprint, and he chased after her. Their friends, in various places of the house cracked smiles and shared jokes as they heard the laughter coming from downstairs, knowing that the two must be up to their shenanigans again.

It had been months since then, and everyone had pretty much settled into a rhythm comfortable enough for Calista to hit the stores with Yona long enough without the boys destroying the place.

Hopefully.

The girls picked out just about anything that caught their interest, bringing along Tae-yeon and Hani last minute with Mundok's and Gi-gan's permission. They were the children's respective guardians but it wasn't much of an issue seeing as how they were all family.

Calista had been in the store less than a minute before there was a loud commotion behind her.

Internally wincing, she turned around to see what trouble the children had gotten themselves into this time. But her eyes widened in surprise as she saw five familiar figures, Hani frozen from where she faceplanted into Nier's legs. Tae-yeon was staring up at Tae-jun with big, innocent eyes and Yona smiled sheepishly at Heuk-chi, apologizing to both of them for the collision while the children righted themselves.

The guardian brushed it off, his unofficial bodyguard going along with him. If she didn't know any better, Calista would say that the tall man was blushing badly in the presence of the sweet redhead. But she chose not to comment on it as Hani and Tae-yeon ran back to her, wanting to spare her friend any embarrassment.

"We weren't expecting to see you guys until later tonight." Calista pitched in, ruffling the children's hair as she directed her attention past the triplets. "We're getting some stuff for later on, want to come with?"

With an eager, mutual agreement to join forces, the huge and rambunctious group of nine browsed the aisles of the store, buying way more than they should have with the children throwing things in the cart more than would've been allowed if any real adults were present.

Tae-jun didn't count, he caved every time Opal turned his watery eyes on him and Calista cursed her spinelessness, giving in just as bad when it came to her youngest brother and the golden-haired, little girl.

Squeals echoed off of the shelves and she whipped around as the triplets and the younger two pulled a huge cake out from the bakery section.

"Oh no, absolutely not." Calista held up her hand, averting her gaze from their puppy eyes. "Yoon will throw a fit if he sees this."

"But Notch~" Opal whined. "Please!!"

His brothers chorused their persuasion and while she had to admit it was sort of endearing seeing the fifteen-year-old boys beg for permission to buy a ridiculously humongous treat, she redirected their efforts towards a panicking Tae-jun beside her.

There wasn't any way she would be able to hold up against all five of them if they continued, she barely had enough strength to resist Hani's puppy dog eyes.

But once she turned her gaze on her youngest brother and saw how Tae-yeon's lower lip trembled dangerously, she sped to his side, dropping down on her knees, ignoring how harshly she landed on them in her haste.

"Tae-yeon," Her soft voice broke as desperation seeped through, gripping his shoulders gently in an effort to convey how bad of an idea this was. "Gramps is gonna kill me."

He beamed up at her, tears suddenly vanishing. "No, he loves you, remember?"

Calista's eyes rounded pathetically at that and she coughed to cover it up.

"Alright, fine." She finally surrendered, throwing up her hands.

Their shrieks of excitement and victory shattered any semblance of silence in the marketplace and she winced at their volume, shaking her head in amusement as they rushed to shove it in the already crammed shopping cart.

Yona drifted over to her side, clasping her hands behind her back playfully.

"You caved~" The redhead sang, giggling.

A fond smile made its way onto the older girl's face, gazing after them as they disappeared around the corner with a worried Tae-jun hot on their tail to make sure they didn't get lost. Or end up causing chaos that couldn't be contained by the mere mention of his title.

Chuckling, Calista began pushing the cart to follow after them. "I always do..."

After numerous attempts to convince their temporary guardians to buy them all the snacks they wanted, five failed chances taken to sneak electronics into the cart and two feeble efforts to buy candy bars at the checkout lane, Calista, Yona, and all the others finally left the supermarket.

Though they were armed to the teeth with food and amenities for later that night.

They hopped into their separate cars, but Tae-jun followed them back to the house so the triplets could spend some more time with Calista.

Kicking open the door with one foot, the raven-haired girl yelled out that they were back as the three troublemakers along with Tae-yeon and Hani shot past her, vanishing from her view within seconds.

She had just set down the groceries and supplies on the floor when she heard two loud crashes come from upstairs and the kitchen at the same time an outraged cry reached her ears.

"Are you all alright?!" Calista shouted out as she untied her shoes and gathered up the food that needed to be refrigerated.

A chorus of reassurances were screamed back and she chuckled to herself, nudging the door with her foot to close it. She had a feeling Yoon would take care of whatever that was all about. Jae-ha appeared at the base of the stairs in a flash, paint in his hair.

She stifled a laugh that bubbled up, opting for a wild gesture that could have been interpreted as anything. But judging by the chuckle and the hand that was raised to wipe the excess away for the time being, he knew what she was getting at.

"Do I want to know?" She teased the eldest, handing him two of the larger bags.

Jae-ha's violet eyes crinkled at her ask, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth. "Maybe not, my dear."

The pair made their way into the kitchen, both lifting an eyebrow at the pristine state. They glanced at each other and then shrugged. Yoon must have cleaned up whatever was spilled already, he couldn't stand the messes.

Zeno and Hak were sitting in the family room, crowded around some sort of card game, roping Heuk-chi into it the moment he passed by. A movie was playing in the background, but no one was paying attention to it. Some sort of Disney film that Calista knew Hak had put on for the kids after he was alerted of their impromptu meeting at the store.

Good thing she had sent him that text.

She had asked him to clean up the house and rid it of any exposed weapons when they ran into Tae-jun and the triplets in the store, having a suspicion that they were going to tag along all the way back to the house.

The night before, she was cleaning her knives and reassembling her sniper rifle. She hadn't gotten a chance to put it away, believing she had enough time before they were set to come over. Knowing her brother though, he had tossed them all on her bed without a second thought. It didn't matter, just as long as the children didn't see them.

It wasn't like they weren't aware of it, but in their line of work, they were better protected the less they were exposed to their lifestyle.

In tandem, the green-haired man and the raven-haired girl began to put away the various food items, Jae-ha automatically taking over the fridge and Calista the pantry. However, she dropped what she was doing the instant she heard a small cough.

Clicking her tongue in worry, she hurriedly filled a cup with water, handing it to Tae-yeon, who had just sprinted into the vicinity with Hani right behind him.

He coughed again as he tried to drink it too fast and she hushed him.

"Smaller sips, Tae-yeon. There you go..." Calista encouraged him quietly, masking her concern so that she didn't accidentally scare him.

Eventually, his breathing steadied and she was less panicked than before.

Patting him on the head gently, she asked, "Did you need your medicine? Are you sure you're alright?"

He nodded cutely, raising the cup above his head in an attempt to put it in the sink but he was struggling. His older sister watched him for a moment, letting him try for himself. But he couldn't do it and after another minute of struggling, he reluctantly asked her if she could do it for him.

Hani hopped up and down on her little feet, golden hair bouncing with her as Calista set it down in the sink. "Yeonie, Yeonie, Yeonie, come and meet my pet ladybug!! She's outside!!"

His eyes lit up and Calista was left alone as the kids shot off.

"Wait!!" She called after them worriedly, starting after them as they slid open the glass door leading to the backyard. "Both of you be careful please!!"

"Relax, Calista dear, they'll be fine." Jae-ha reassured her as he put the milk and the giant cake away in the fridge.

Hak was weird, he only ate bakery if it was cold and Yona made sure to call him out on it more than once.

Calista snorted, hesitating for a beat before giving in, knowing he was right. "Only if someone's watching them to make sure they don't accidentally get in trouble like last time."

Jae-ha shook his head slightly, eyes filled with light humor. "They're on our property. What could possibly happen?"

Once, Kija had mistakenly left the two children alone with the triplets, and somehow the five of them managed to land themselves in a police station within the hour. Something about escaped shelter animals and a raid on a corner store with a stereo. She couldn't even make sense of the police report when they had given it to her, and now she just knew better than to ask.

"Hak—"

"I'm on it." He interrupted his sister, already halfway out the door that led to the acres of open land naturally fenced by several hundred-year-old trees. Zeno skipped cheerily after him, closing the door behind him to conserve the heat inside.

Following his younger brother in order to make sure his allergies didn't act up due to his weak lungs, Hak grabbed a spare rake from the shed in the back. He might as well do this now so that he didn't have to do it tomorrow, plus it would make the lawn easier to mow later on. Zeno took the smaller one to help after he played games with Tae-yeon while Hani went to look for her tiny friend.

They raked all the fallen leaves into a huge pile.

But the second Hak turned his back, he heard a yell of, "Cannonball!!", and in came the pitter-patter of small feet shaking the earth.

He let out a shout at the wave of dead leaves that he had just collected showered over him. Spitting out the ones that landed in his mouth, he glared in mock annoyance at his sheepish brother and the delighted golden-haired girl beside him. Zeno threw up his hands, having dived in with the children and sent another torrent of leaves up in the air, beaming widely.

"Mister!! Come on in!!"

Hak shrugged, tossing aside the rake as he sprinted towards them. Work would have to wait.

Hani and Tae-yeon shrieked as he leaped and clumsily scattered about, thoroughly diminishing all of his hard work. But he couldn't bring himself to care as he began to chase them around in a spontaneous game of tag.

Zeno sat on the ground with his legs crossed in front of him, scarf bundled up to his nose as a chilly wind blew by. "Zeno wants the little miss to win!!"

"But what about me?" Tae-yeon whined with big eyes, doubling over in a fit of giggles as Hak scooped him up, tickling his stomach. "Hak— hehe!! Stop!!"

His big brother didn't let up until Hani tackled him with a warrior cry, latching her tiny arms around his neck to get him off of her friend. Hak stood up with a loud but playful roar, chasing the two around the empty field until all of them collapsed in a fit of ringing laughter.

Hours passed before the four reentered into the house, teeth chattering with the need for a hot beverage.

Jae-ha had disappeared back upstairs. Something about a project with Kija and Yona that he had yet to complete. But Calista was still in the kitchen, and now so was Yoon.

Calista told the freezing bunch to go change into something warmer so that they didn't catch a cold and instructed her brother to sift through her closet to find spare jackets for the little ones. While he was busy doing that, she gathered what she needed to make them something hot so that they could warm up on the inside.

Coffee for Hak, and hot chocolate for the kids and Zeno.

Helping the small children onto the kitchen stools on the opposite side of the island where Yoon was at so that they didn't accidentally get in his way, Calista made sure they weren't going to fall off but guiding them to first blow on their hot chocolate before taking a small sip. Things wouldn't go well for the rest of the evening if they burned their tongues while attempting to chug the drink.

Hani swung her feet playfully, emerald eyes eager as she reached for the liquid chocolate.

Pulling back her hand that held the steaming, small mug, Calista stared at her intently. "Drink it slowly, okay, little one?"

She nodded enthusiastically, making grabby hands for it. The older girl finally handed it over, watching her carefully for a minute to make sure she was being careful. The little girl had a history of being too hurried that had unfortunate consequences.

Three sets of footsteps could be heard from the second floor as the triplets ran down the stairs, skidding to a halt once they reached the kitchen, resembling dominoes as Nier crashed into Opal and Yue crashed into his brothers. They fell into a heap on the carpeted floor, with a very winded Tae-jun trailing after them.

Stifling a giggle as the energetic boys sprang back up, she clapped a hand over her mouth as the sound escaped nonetheless and she was faced with three playful brooding looks.

"I didn't do anything." Calista claimed, shrieking and then breaking into a run the second she saw the look in their eyes.

"Get her!!!" Opal screamed, chasing her through the house with his brothers hot on his tail.

"Wait what?! Why me?!?!" She yelled over her shoulder, weaving in and out of the corridors at a breaknecking speed.

Dodging the sharp corner that separated the living room and the foyer, she twisted and turned throughout the extensive first floor of the house. Her memorization of every nook and cranny came in handy. They stumbled after her, not quite as fluent in the layout as she was, eventually giving up and declaring her victory.

"Marshy!!" Calista yelled, completely out of breath, resting her hands on her knees. "When's Gramps coming over?"

Hak checked his watch, keeping Yona at bay with the other hand as he held her out at arms length. They were playing a game of charades with Opal and Yue since Nier declined to have anything to do with lifting a finger after that exhausting chase through the house.

"In an hour." He answered her leisurely, a smirk of amusement stretching across his features as the redhead puffed out her cheeks in frustration. "Yoon, what's for dinner?"

"Hold your horses, you rare beasts!!" Yoon shouted over his shoulder, bustling around the massive kitchen, doing a hundred things at once.

Peering over the kitchen island, Calista tapped on his shoulder when she saw a pause in his purposeful stride.

"Anything I can do to help?" She offered.

She was a complete klutz in the kitchen, but she still wanted to be there for him so that he wasn't so stressed. Still, she wasn't sure if she brought anything to the table. What could a genius pretty boy possibly need from a clumsy girl like her?

Calista could barely keep track of Tae-yeon and Hani as they skipped around, their tiny heads bobbing into view every time one of them got too excited and started jumping up and down.

Yoon never got a chance to answer her as he saw her speed towards the door the second she heard it ring.

Throwing it open, Calista was surprised to find Gi-gan standing on the other side instead of Mundok. Nevertheless, she quickly invited her inside so that the elder woman was out of the cold.

"Would you like some tea?" She offered, taking her coat off and hanging it up for her on the antique coat rack Yona got from a thrift shop. "Is it that time already?"

Gi-gan rubbed her hands together in an effort to get the blood flowing again, sending the raven-haired girl a rare warm smile. "No, no, not yet. The little ones are going trick-or-treating later, yes? Tea sounds wonderful, girl. Thank you."

Flashing her a grin, she led her into the family room filled with laughter and all sorts of shenanigans.

Jae-ha stood up immediately, greeting his old guardian with a trademark, suggestive remark that had the elder smacking him upside the head for his language.

"I didn't teach you that, you brat." Gi-gan fired at him mercilessly.

Simply smiling, Jae-ha dodged the second blow aimed at his head, green ponytail streaming behind him as he escaped her. "Now, Captain, you wouldn't want to scratch a face this beautiful, would you?"

"You overestimate your beauty."

The offended gasp at the flat retort had everyone dying of laughter.

As Calista caught her breath, she boiled some water, gaze drifting to a mop of golden hair that came bounding up to her hopefully. Steering Hani away from the stove so that she didn't accidentally burn herself like last time she got too close, she crouched down to the little girl's level, who now was avoiding her gaze.

"Hey... what's the matter, little one?"

Hani pouted slightly, emerald orbs rounding as she exclaimed, "Can we make caramel apples?"

Chuckling, Calista pushed herself up and held out her hand. The golden-haired girl eagerly took it, pulling out the apples from the fridge as the older one fetched the caramel dip from the pantry.

"Guys!!" She shouted over the noise of their heated game of monopoly. "We're making caramel apples if you want to join!!"

"Not now, Bat-Ears!!" Hak fired back. "I'm just about to win!!"

Rolling her eyes, a crafty smile played upon her lips. "He's cheating."

"I KNEW IT!!!!!" Kija yelled, bolting up.

"Zeno wanted to join!!"

Jae-ha smoothly got to his feet as the two went head to head, whisking Tae-yeon away from the chaotic scene while the two of them bickered over who was right, the triplets egging on the grown men without any hesitation.

Tae-jun was lounging on the couch with Heuk-chi, flipping through the channels on the TV, trying to ignore the massive headache he had coming on.

Swiftly turning off the fire as the kettle began to whistle, Calista placed some jasmine tea leaves in a porcelain cup, leaving it alone to steep for a couple of minutes. Jae-ha and Yona had been the ones to convince Hak they needed nice silverware and fine china. Her idiot-of-a-brother was going to buy plastic utensils and plates from the dollar tree for crying out loud!

She set it down silently on the end table next to Gi-gan, trying not to disturb her.

Yona and Gi-gan were engaged in a casual conversation while the rest of them dipped fuji apples in smooth caramel, placing the finished but messy treats on a parchment paper lined tray so that the taffy treat could set.

The children eagerly waited by the countertop, much too hyper to eat one to even think about sitting down.

Calista gave up trying to pry them away from the island, leaving them to do whatever they wanted now that Yoon was finished making dinner and the kitchen was no longer that hazardous. Collapsing on a velvet chair, she sprawled herself out lazily, done moving for the rest of the day.

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she heard the doorbell ring, but sat up with a groan and ran to answer it when no one else got up.

It wasn't even five yet and people were already trick-or-treating?! Unbelievable.

Flinging open the door to give whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind, all words died on her tongue when cropped, blue hair flashed into view. She clapped a hand over her mouth in shock, taking in the signature red marks decorating his cheekbones and those piercing, golden eyes.

Calista choked on air, tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

"Shin-ah?"

[willow-salix]

Here's this week's #FABFIVEFEB from the prompts by the awesome @gumnut-logic. This is all about the Scott, and I loved writing this. This bad boy topped out at 5,110 words, I don't know where they all came from apart from the fact that it was pancake day yesterday and that was all I need for the vision in my head. I used all the prompts somewhere (even if they are a little vague) except glow.

"Scott?" Alan whined from his position slumped over the kitchen table, his arm up to speak into his comm. "Can you make me some pancakes?" 

"No I can't, sorry, I'm just too busy, " Scott's distracted voice floated from Alan's wrist. 

"Oh come on, you make them the best."

"I don't have time."

"But Selene said it's pancake day in the UK, it's tradition."

"No, Alan, I'm waiting for Brains to finish that modification to Thunderbird One so I can test her out and make sure she's still operational for rescues as well as the Zero-XL."

"But he won't be done for ages…"

Scott declined to answer, cutting the call. 

Alan huffed, sat up and crossed his arms angrily. All he wanted was to spend some time with his brother like they used to. Scott made the best pancakes in the world, he could flip and land them perfectly, any shape, any size and they always came out golden brown and fluffy.

He'd been dreaming about those pancakes, remembering how their dad had patiently tried to teach them all how to mix up the perfect batter, how to test the heat of the pan and how to flip them just right. 

Virgil and Scott had mastered the batter instantly, seeming to have a knack for measuring by eye and mixing it with a hand whisk. John had taken his time, insisting on noting down the exact weight and measurements of each ingredient as Jeff had added them and then using the blender to make it as smooth as humanly possible. Gordon and Alan had shared a bowl, which has descended into chaos as they had both tried to add ingredients, ending up with a lumpy, eggy, sloppy mess. 

Virgil's pancakes had been nice enough, a little messy around the edges, a little abstract but edible and easily flipped with a spatula. John's had been perfectly formed equal little rounds of fluffy goodness, small enough to flip with a spatula and stack easily. Alan and Gordon had dropped many, burnt a few and had a couple still raw. But Scott's had been perfect. He had flipped them as if he had been doing it his whole life, an easy wiggle and flick of his wrist and up they had sailed, executed a perfect 180 and landed back in the pan with a gentle splat. He had experimented with different flavours, adding chocolate chips and different sauces to various degrees of success but always perfectly cooked. 

Over the years the duty of making pancakes for breakfast on a weekend had fallen to Scott and their dad, the two tag teaming, perfectly synchronised, Jeff mixing and plating them up, Scott pouring and flipping. If Scott was in a particularly good mood or had time to spare he would try to make the pancakes in simple shapes, a fish for Gordon, a rocket for Alan, a star for John. It didn't matter what the shape was, he always managed to flip and land it without trouble. 

After Jeff had disappeared Scott had continued to make them for any family that was home, it had been a tradition for so long that they had clung to it, it was familiar, it was comforting and they had needed that more than ever. 

Over the years as International Rescue had gotten busier, their days more unpredictable and their weekends almost non existent their breakfasts had trailed off and then stopped all together. 

Alan hadn't realised how much he missed them until he'd woken up with a craving for Scott's special toffee apple pancakes, made with applesauce and chunks of fresh apple mixed right into the batter and toffee sauce drizzled on top. He could practically taste them. 

They had all been so wrapped up in the Zero-XL building and the possibility of finding their dad that they had barely spent any time together, it felt like they were growing further apart rather than closer together as they should have been. They were about to reunite their family, to be complete for the first time in eight years but Alan couldn't help that he was a little worried. What if things changed? What if their dad wasn't the man they all remembered? It had been hard to lose him but they had all come to terms with it, had each learnt to accept it in their own way and now he didn't really know what to think. Their world was about to change all over again and, much as he hated to admit to himself, he was nervous. He craved something normal, something solid and dependable. He wanted his big brother. 

"What's up puddin'? Why the long face?" Selene wandered into the kitchen from who knew where, her face full of concern. "You OK, boo?" 

Alan nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. 

As always, Selene knew exactly when he needed a hug, even though he would never ask for one, and pulled him into her arms. 

"Talk to me, precious." 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head against her shoulder, allowing her warm, comforting presence to surround him. She held him tight, not making any move to let go, something he loved about her. There was never any time limit to a Selene hug, none of that brief embrace then let go as soon as you could rubbish, she'd happily stand there for an hour if that was what you needed. More times than he cared to remember he'd found himself leaning against her on the couch, allowing her to wrap an arm around his shoulder and draw him into a cuddle that could last the entirety of a film. Selene he felt safe talking to, she never judged, he didn't feel like he had to be manly with her, to act mature or hide anything from fear of upsetting or angering her. 

"Scott won't make me any pancakes." Just saying it out loud sounded stupid, like all that was wrong was the fact that he was hungry and wasn't getting his own way. He didn't want to sound like a spoiled brat. "I mean, I wanted him to make them with me, like he used to, but he's too busy. He's right, I shouldn't have asked."

Selene sighed, hugging him tighter. "No he's not, darling. He's not too busy, he's hiding away. And you were right to ask." 

Alan lifted his head to look at her, confusion written all over his face. "Scott's hiding? What for? Scott doesn't hide, he faces everything." 

She shook her head. "No, he doesn't, that's just what he wants you all to think, especially you."

"Why me?" 

"Because you're his baby brother, he wants you to have someone you can look up to, someone dependable and in control, even if he doesn't always feel that way on the inside." 

Alan snorted. "I doubt Scott feels that way, he's so sure about everything. He has a one track mind, get the Zero-XL finished, find Dad and everything will be fine." He pulled out of her embrace and sat down on one of the kitchen stools.

"And are you not sure about his plans?" 

Alan scowled as she zeroed in on the problem with that uncanny ability of hers, not needing him to even voice it. She stared right back at him, face neutral, waiting for him to elaborate. He picked up a spoon that had been abandoned on the counter and fiddled with it, needing something to do with his hands. 

"I don't know." 

She waited some more, leaning patiently against the sink, giving him the time he needed to collect his thoughts and choose his words. 

"What if everything is different after? Not in a good way I mean. Everyone is so desperate to have Dad back and so sure that it'll be brilliant, and I think that too, but…" 

"But there's a little part of you that is scared and worried that he won't be how you all want him to be?" 

He nodded, relieved that she understood exactly what he meant. 

"No one else thinks that way. Just me. Because I'm the youngest and because I don't really remember him that well. It's like…"  he paused, unsure if he could say the words. But this was Selene he was talking to, she would get it. "It's like he's a character from a favourite film, one that's so familiar it's like they are part of your life, but they also seem so abstract, like you know that they aren't actually real. Does that make sense?" 

"Perfect sense. And believe me, you aren't the only one feeling this way. Scott's been in charge of this family for a long time, in charge of International Rescue and everything that comes with it, this is his baby as much as it was your dad's. And John, he is happy and content with his work in Five. You know he loves coordinating and bossing you all around, he loves to organise and prioritise each call that comes in. He told me that before your dad disappeared all he did was field the calls and relay them to base so your dad could make all the decisions. That's going to take some getting used to and some toes are going to get stepped on, there will probably be arguments and compromises will be needed. But it'll all come in time. I haven't spoken to Gordon or Virgil about it but I'm willing to bet they feel the same. You will all need to get to know one another again, you're all different people to how you were then, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing, sweetie."

Alan looked down at the spoon in his hands, now bent out of shape, the bowl twisted back to meet the handle."What if he doesn't like me? " His voice was small, so quiet she barely heard him. 

Oh gods, her heart was just breaking for him at that moment. Her poor little sweetheart. She crossed over and hugged him from behind, kissing the top of his head. 

"Baby, there isn't a single person in this world that wouldn't love you. You are perfect." 

"You have to say that, you're marrying my brother." 

She sighed, flicking his ear gently. "No I don't. And do you honestly think that I'm not shitting myself too?" 

Her rude words made him choke out a surprised laugh as he rubbed his abused ear. "Why would you be scared?" 

"I'm meeting your dad for the first time and I'm not exactly anyone's dream of a daughter in law. I'm a crazy witch that swears too much and moved into his house. He could hate me." 

It was Alan's turn to make her feel better. "He'll love you, because we all do, and there's no way he couldn't. You have made my brother the happiest he's ever been, you've made him better, and Dad will see that. You haven't just helped John, you don't just love John, you love us all." 

She smiled gratefully, hugging him tightly from behind, squishing him against her chest so he couldn't see the way her eyes were damp with unshed tears. "I got stuck with all of you, bloody package deal brothers."

He laughed, knowing she didn't mean it. 

"Give me your comm." 

"What? Why?" he lifted his arm up for her. 

She tapped the screen and waited for Scott to answer. 

"Yes, Alan?" 

"Scott," she wheedled. "You know you love me…will you come and make me some pancakes? " 

Alan muffled a laugh with his hand. His brother was silent for a few moments, then his long suffering sigh floated out. 

"Fine, I'm coming up." 

"How did you do that? How come he never says no to you?" 

"Witch magic." 

"That can't be your answer to everything, you know." 

"Say's who?" 

"Say's me," Scott answered as he entered the kitchen, ruffling Alan's hair affectionately as he passed. 

"Rude, you weren't included in this conversation."

Scott ignored her, knowing exactly what was going on. He felt bad that he'd said no to Alan's request, had wanted to drop everything the second his baby brother had asked, but a sense of duty had prevented it. How could it be right for him to stand around making pancakes when there was work to be done and what seemed like a million things to prepare for his dad's homecoming? Honestly, he was grateful that Selene had intervened, giving him an excuse to spend some time with his smallest brother. 

"What pancakes do you want, squirt?" 

"Toffee Apple," Alan answered immediately. 

"How did I know you'd say that?" Scott reached for a large mixing bowl and gestured to the store cupboard. 

"Because they are my favourites," Alan started taking out packages of flour and jars of applesauce without being asked, both of them falling back into their familiar routine. 

Selene took herself off to the side and sat down at the table, content to watch them work together. Alan helped Scott to measure out the ingredients and they both took turns whisking it into a smooth batter then added a sprinkling of chopped apple into the mix. 

Scott lined up three skillets and set the heat beneath them, letting them get nice and hot. Once they were to his liking he took a ladle and spooned out a big dollop into the middle of each pan. 

So impressive were his skills that he didn't even need to use a spatula to loosen the bottom as she would have done, no he just wiggled the pan and the pancake slid up the side like a well trained puppy, ready to be tossed. 

Scott wiggled the pan a bit more, playing up to the enthusiastic encouragement of Alan, then with a flick of his wrist the pancake soared upwards, turning in midair and coming down to land perfectly in the center of the pan, much to the appreciative cheering of Selene and Alan. 

He repeated the process in quick succession until a large stack of pancakes rested on the warming plate. 

"Can you call the others to come eat?" Scott requested and Alan scrambled to do his bidding. 

"Let's see if I've still got this," Scott muttered under his breath as he took a smaller spoon and dipped it in the remaining mixture, dribbling it into the pan, returning time and again for another dip, concentration etched on his face. 

Selene wandered over to watch over his shoulder, seeing the vague but recognisable shape of Thunderbird Three forming in the pan. Scott let it cook through until little air bubbles had formed all over the surface and then wiggled it up to the side. 

"Ready?" 

Both Selene and Alan nodded and with a deep breath, Scott launched the rocket skyward. It sailed up on its perfectly plotted path, dipped at the tip and turned end over end, hurtling back to the pan. Scott flailed comically for a second before he caught the little rocket, the only damage being a slight crease where the nose cone had hit the rim of the pan. 

Selene clapped, very impressed and Scott bowed theatrically, his face split in a wide smile as he returned it to the heat for another minute then carefully slid the lovingly made treat onto the plate Alan held out. 

"Pancakes!" Gordon cheered as he dashed in, heading straight to the stack. "We haven't had these in years!" He glanced over at the rocket that Alan was drenching in toffee sauce. "Hey! Where's my fishy? You always make me a fishy." 

"I'm working on it," Scott started his dip and dribble routine all over again, drawing an outline first and then filling in the center, all under Gordon's watchful eye. 

Virgil wandered in and retrieved a plate, helping himself to a few from the stack. Brains was next, and then Kayo, followed, slowly and somewhat hesitantly, by The Mechanic, who was still refusing to give anyone his real name. Selene was secretly convinced that it was either something mundane, like Dave, or very out there like Heathcliff and that he had been cursing his parents ever since. Either way, she called him Nic, shortened from Mechanic and he had learnt to do what everyone else in the family did and ignore her. 

A pair of warm arms slid around her middle, making her jump, John's evil chuckle muffled against her skin as he kissed her neck in greeting. 

"How did this happen?" 

Selene looked over at Scott as he caught the fish perfectly, pleased to see the way he had visibly loosened over the last half hour of so of fun with his youngest brother. 

"We wanted pancakes, it's traditional on Shrove Tuesday in Britain."

"Was that all, huh?"

She nodded, leaning back against his space suit clad chest, her fingers lacing through his. "Yep, that's it."

"A fish is easy to flip," Kayo taunted from her place at the table, a fork full of pancake halfway to her mouth.

"I'd like to see you do better," Scott challenged, already working on another, this time star shaped.

"Anyone could do it," Kayo shrugged.

"Yeah," John joined in, obviously in the mood to push some buttons. "It's simply a case of angle, height and force, physics, couldn't be simpler."

Selene grinned evilly. "You know what else is traditional in my country?"

"What?" Alan asked, his voice muffled, cheeks bulging like a hamster's.

"Pancake races."

***

Half an hour later saw them all outside on the beach. Selene and Grandma acting as judges and general rule keepers, while the brothers, Kayo and, after much persuasion, The Mechanic and Brains were all lined up ready to race.

"OK, remember, you can only run if you are flipping and catching and while the pancake is in the air, you can use both hands on the handle if you want to, but if you drop your pancake you have to stop and pick it up, place it back in your pan to flip again, you cannot throw it into the air and catch it. You have to complete one stationary toss and catch before you can pass the pan over. First team to cross the finish line wins. Got it?" They all nodded seriously.

"Ready team A?"

Gordon, Scott, Kayo and Brains cheered in response.

"Ready team B?"

John, Virgil, Alan and The Mechanic whooped in answer.

"Alright! On your marks! Get set…" Brains and The Mechanic readied themselves. "GO!"

Brains gripped the pan handle with both hands and hefted it upwards. The pancake barely lifted and did a very ungraceful belly flop back down but that counted and he managed to take a few steps forward.

The Mechanic had a little more strength and was a tad more coordinated and after a practice flip and catch, he got the hang of it and managed to make pretty good time.

Brains on the other hand, missed the pancake twice and had to retrieve it from the sand and toss it again before he could move. When he managed two flips and catches in succession his team mates cheered like crazy.

He passed the pan over to Kayo who flipped and took off, getting in three steps before she had to catch and flip again.

John took over from The Mechanic, taking his time to do an experimental flip, landing it well enough. He then tried again, leaning forward a bit and tossing at an angle rather than straight up, stretching to catch the flat disc.

"Come on, John, MOVE!" Alan yelled.

John ignored him, ignored the way Kayo was making steady progress down the beach, flipping, catching and running a few quick steps.

One more practice and he got his rhythm. With a wrist flick at the right angle, just the right spin, the right speed… He took off running, managing to toss the pancake ahead of him and catch it every time without slowing his pace once. Alan and Virgil burst into loud cheers, Alan bouncing on the spot eager to receive the pan for his lap.

"What the fu-" Kayo missed her pancake completely as John sailed past her effortlessly. She grabbed the pancake and put it back in the pan, tossed it hurriedly into the air, but over compensated and ended up running right past it and having to backtrack and pick it up again.

"Damn you, Tracy!"

John waved a casual hand behind him in acknowledgement, came to a gentle stop beside Alan, tossed and caught it one more time then handed over the pan much to Selene's supportive cheers.

"Hey! Favouritism from the Judge!" Gordon yelled as he waited impatiently for Kayo to reach him.

"Dude, he's running in a skin tight suit and didn't mess up once, I'm allowed to cheer!"

"Divided loyalties!"

John spread his hands in a what-can-I-say-the-truth-is-the-truth gesture, a smug smile on his face, not even out of breath.

The edge of Kayo's pan hit Gordon in the kidney as she nudged him to get his attention.

"Shit!" he grabbed the pan and tossed the sandy and now decidedly ragged pancake into the air, taking a couple of steps.

Alan was faring better and stopped mid step to stick his tongue out at Gordon. Splat! The pancake landed on his head as he turned back.

"That doesn't count as catching it!" Scott yelled at Grandma.

"He's right, Alan, toss it again, it has to be caught in the pan."

Alan slapped the pancake down into the pan and tossed it again as Gordon started to catch up.

Alan got in a few running steps before he caught the pancake.

Gordon threw the pancake into the air but didn't manage to land it right, one side flopping off the edge of the pan where it ripped, one half falling to the ground.

"Grab it!" Scott yelled.

Gordon fumbled but grabbed the lost half and deposited it into the pan. Tossing both halves was tricky but he managed it, catching both with a little extra effort.

Alan had stopped dead to laugh at Gordon's pancake disaster, allowing Gordon to pass him, but tossed and caught quickly, rushing to catch up.

"Ooof!" Alan landed on the sand as Gordon innocently pulled his foot back. "You tripped me!"

"Judges!" Virgil yelled.

"Two toss penalties for Gordon!" Grandma ruled, much to Gordon's disgust.

Alan made the most of his time advantage to get to his feet and hurry forward. He stopped, tossed and caught then passed the pan on to Virgil.

Gordon caught up and gave Scott the pan.

The two eldest and probably most competitive of the boys started their lap.

"You killed this pancake, Gordy!" Virgil complained as he tried to get the hang of flipping both halves.

"Blame Kayo, she started it! OWW! There was no need to hit me!"

Kayo rubbed her knuckles and grinned evilly.

Scott was, as predicted, making excellent time, tossing and catching with effortless ease while Virgil cursed, struggling to master the art of a double flip and catch. In the end he settled for smaller tosses of a higher frequency, the ragged halves barely lifting up but still clearing the pan and therefore counting, while he trotted along in a quick shuffling run.

The two teams cheered, bellowing encouragement and insults, having left their previous spots and converged on the finishing line.

"Come on, Scott!"

"Run, Virg!"

"Flip it!"

"Call that a toss? Pathetic!"

Scott glanced over his shoulder at his brother.

"Might as well give up now, you can't beat me!"

"In your dreams!" Virgil yelled back.

The finishing line was in sight and with a last burst of speed the racers edged closer.

Virgil, in a last ditch attempt to win, tossed the pancake halves towards the finish line -a beach towel laid out on the sand- and threw himself forward.

Scott, spotting what he was up to, did the same…

Virgil stretched out with the pan, ready to catch the falling food…

Scott dived, reaching out…

They landed in a tangle of arms and legs, Scott splayed out on top of Virgil, Virgil face down in the sand…

They all watched in horrified fascination as the pancakes seemed to hover suspended in mid air for a second before falling down to earth.

Scott flapped with his pan, Virgil flailed trying to push Scott off him, managing to get an arm free to stick out his pan.

PLOP! plop plop!

The two judges, along with the rest of the teams, rushed towards the two fallen racers.

"Seriously?"

"What are the odds?"

"What?" Scott pulled himself up off a complaining Virgil and looked into his pan.

Virgil sat up, doing the same.

In his pan sat Scott's still vaguely round pancake. And in Scott's, crumpled and creased, ripped and sandy, were the lumps of pancake that had belonged to Virgil.

"So who won?" Gordon asked.

***

"I saved you the last pancake," Scott came up behind Alan and offered him the plate.

"Thanks, Scott," Alan shifted over on the bench to make space for his brother and took the plate. "And thanks for today."

Scott sat down beside his brother, draping his arm around his shoulders. "You're welcome, and I'm sorry I didn't come straight away. I guess I've been a little preoccupied recently. I know that's not an excuse, but it did feel like a valid reason at the time."

"I shouldn't have asked, not really, you had more important things to do."

"No, you were right to ask, it's been a great afternoon and I think we all needed it. Thanks for forcing me to take a break."

Alan nodded, leaning closer to rest his head against his brother's shoulder.

"I just…I guess I feel like so much has changed so quickly and it's only going to change more. When Selene said it was pancake day I remembered how great it used to be to have fun and just spend time together. With everything that's been happening I didn't want that to be something that changed too."

Scott sighed, giving Alan's shoulder a squeeze.

"I'm sorry, I should have realised that. I should have noticed that you needed a bit more time than I've been giving you lately."

Alan scowled. "It's not your job to give me time, I'm not a baby, I'm big enough to look after myself now."

Scott chuckled. "Are any of us big enough to look after ourselves? Or is that why we all want Dad back so much?"

"Selene said that you weren't busy, you were hiding," Alan had zero issues with throwing her under the bus, knowing that Scott would never make her feel bad about it.

Scott was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "She's not wrong, I guess, in a way, I have been hiding. I know I've been driving Brains and The Mechanic nuts with my constant attention. I'm just worried I think, worried that we'll be too late and we won't find Dad, worried that even if we do find him he won't be the man we remember."

"That's part of my problem, I don't remember him, not really. I just know that he was nice, and that everyone was less stressed when he was around."

"Yeah, dads always make things better and easier. Can I let you in on a secret?"

Alan nodded.

"I've been avoiding you guys a bit, especially you, because I don't want to let any of you down."

"Let us down? That's crazy! There's no way you could ever do that."

Scott closed his eyes, feeling so tired all of a sudden, the fun and relaxation of the last few hours fading away to be replaced with the bone deep exhaustion that was his constant companion.

"I'm having all these doubts, Allie. Doubts that I've been too stubborn to voice out loud."

Alans eyes opened wide. Selene had said that Scott was having the same fears he was, but he hadn't really believed her up until that point.

"What do you mean? What kind of doubts?"

Scott turned away to look out over the island to the sea below them, stretching out as far as the eye could see.

"I worry that he won't be alive when we get there, or that we won't even find him, but I also worry about what will happen if we do manage to bring him home. I want him home, of course I do, but things are going to change, and I'm just hoping that it won't be too hard on us all, especially Dad. We've been on our own, doing things our way with International Rescue for longer than we were doing them with him, and I worry that we're going to clash. Or even that Dad won't want to be here any longer, that he won't want to continue the way we are or even go out on rescues again. Can you imagine a world without International Rescue in it? One where we sit at home and don't help people? It was trying to save people that got Dad lost in the first place, and we've spent eight years saving others but left him alone. We didn't help him. What if he resents us for that? What if he blames us?" Scotts voice dropped lower, almost a whisper." What if he blames me? I'm the one that's in charge."

"I've thought all that too, apart from the bits about you, he would never blame you, none of us would."

Scott hugged his littlest brother tighter than ever, until Alan squeaked and squirmed to get away. He didn't know how he'd missed the fact that Alan himself had also been worried.

He was lucky to have his brothers and the friends that he counted as family. He felt his tight shoulders loosen a little. None of them knew what they would find when they got up there, or what would happen after, but no matter what, he'd have the support of everyone he held dear. That would be enough to get him through anything. 

"It'll be alright, Allie. We'll make sure of it. We'll do as we always do, we'll get through it together. Things have a way of working themselves out. We'll get up there, we'll find Dad and we'll bring him home. That's all that matters, that's all we need. Everything else is fixable in time."

Scott looked up towards the lounge windows where the sound of Virgil's piano filtered down to them, along with the indistinct rumble of conversation. 

"We're a family, Dad's part of us, and we'll make sure that he knows that."

[boseongkrp]

( the senior, kim jongin, he/him ) — introducing PARK JAESUN, the 25 year old PERSONAL TRAINER at boseong fitness centre, known around boseong as THE CATACLYSMIC. the residents would describe him as holes punched in walls, the purple blossom of a black eye, relentless training sessions that leave lungs starved for air, crimson knuckles swathed in medical gauze.

now loading his interview....

trigger warning : drugs, physical abuse, violence.

PLEASE TELL US MORE ABOUT YOURSELF.

there’s a vacancy to jaesun’s disposition — as if he’s not all there and it’s simply the shell of his physiognomy sitting in front of the police officers that are recording his statement. a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips; look closely and you’ll glean derision embedded in the creases of his countenance. ‘just for the record, you guys are absolute assholes.’ yeah, he’s tired of police stations, tired of the bland interior and the equally bland reflections dancing in the cups of shitty coffee on the table before him. but he’s here to respect the dead, knows how much she deserves it. if there was such a being that was deserving of his best, it was the girl with the paper smile and the misted eyes.

he wonders fleetingly if these officers know of what evil he snorted up his nose before he arrived at the station. it’s not like he’s one to dwell on their perceptions of him, knowing that they probably already deem him as the decaying apple that didn’t fall too far from his father’s tree. and because that’s all they see, he refuses the proper courtesy that is expected in the station. jaesun opens his mouth, coke-fuelled laughter a vanguard for his next words. ‘i was the golden boy, the top athlete at boseong high and despite all the fighting, the staff, the pupils, they all still loved me. soccer scouts came from seoul to see me, did you know that? ya, write this shit down. i came from nothing; my dad, he’s a deadbeat that drinks too much. he used to lay into me pretty bad when he was at his worst, i used to be fucking scared of him bro. looking back, i realised he’s a coward. my mom, well, she’s amazing, she’s a seamstress. i get my work ethic from her. i worked hard because of her, i thought let me train hard so i can get her out of this dump and away from my father.’ he punctuates his statement with a scoff, the expression on his face faltering ever so slightly. ‘my father’s in prison now, fucked somebody up real bad, like i heard the guy’s face —‘ pausing, he watches through narrow, jaded orbs as the officer winces a little. pathetic.

‘and me? i’m back here. poetic fucking justice. you could say i’m a little bitter about not becoming a professional soccer player but it is what it is, i guess.’ his gaze resorts to calloused appendages that have taken to drumming against the table, an indication. ‘i currently work at the fitness centre as a personal trainer. it’s enough pay for me to have moved out and give my mom a little something as well so i can’t complain.’

SO WHAT DO YOU THINK OF BOSEONG?

jaesun barks another laugh at the officers, running his fingers through the messy tendrils that fall in face. ‘listen, home is always going to be home, you know?’ he’s not entirely sure what else would be a suitable answer for a question such as this, and for once, he’s not as verbose as the drugs cause him to be. ‘boseong’s not london, but it’s home and i own that. i bet you thought i was a sell out.’

HAVE YOU EVER LEFT OR THOUGHT ABOUT LEAVING BOSEONG?

’yeah i left boseong the day after i graduated. remember what i was saying about scouts coming to see me play? they really thought i was great! ya, they were impressed, they were really excited to have me on board and so i went to train in seoul right away. a few months later, i was sent to england to train with chelsea fc. it was fucking epic but — i fucked it. i, uh — i tore a ligament so it’s all over. done. i can never really play again, not professionally at least.’ as a melancholic edge takes over him, he looks up towards the ceiling as if landscapes of a rainy city and its multitude of secrets were hidden there. ‘it was lonely when i was in london, i felt like i was drowning in other people’s indifference. being the popular kid in a small town means nothing to those city dwellers. i guess i found it hard to cope a bit. i don’t think i’d leave town again for that long.’

WERE YOU CLOSE WITH HA EUNMI? WHAT WAS YOUR IMPRESSION OF HER?

it’s in the hesitation that a weakness is revealed, a blunder or perhaps the embers of a high dwindling down into ash. ‘ha eunmi… where do i start?’ he stares at his fingers, the brutality of his constitution evident in their destruction, and guilt seems to wrack his frame. ‘she was a sweet girl, at least to me. never understood why people didn’t take to her. she was quite smart? though she sucked at math which is what i tutored her in. i fought a lot in those times so the principal put me on the tutoring scheme to keep me from making trouble with the other students and we got close then. shit…’ he sighs, shaking his head slightly. he wasn’t expecting to talk so much about eunmi and so with a sort of reverence he continues, ‘she saw the world in a different light, i respected her for that. she was going through some shit at home though and i think that caused her to have a little bit of a chip on her shoulder which i totally understood. she was still great to me though. she never judged me, she kinda held me up high too. believed in me and stuff. ahh, the motel? there was a point where things were particularly bad at our respective homes so we would get a room out and study in private. nah, nothing funny like that, she was a sweet girl and a minor, for fuck sake. you guys perverts or something?’

DO YOU HAVE A DARK SECRET THAT NO ONE KNOWS OF?

<   R E D A C T E D   >

[joon-bugs]

Dare

~This is a fic that’s been in the making for about two months and I finally got it finished!~ 

“Want to continue the game?” You dug your nail into your palm. Jungkook was gonna get a talking to later. Maybe you should have told Hoseok to leave. That you were tired and had to work the next day. It would have been the smart thing. The safe thing. But a low buzz had already settled in your chest, warming your skin. 

word count: 4,290 

pairing: Hobi/Reader 

genre: smut 

warnings: swearing, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, face riding, intoxication 

“You're up next birthday boy.”

“No way. I swear you skipped your turn Y/N. I'm not that drunk.” You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Jung Hoseok to call you out on your bullshit.

“Damn, I thought I had boozed you up enough.” You took a swig of your half empty beer bottle and scowled. You hated beer. But it was cheap, and you were poor. Hoseok cleared his throat and raised a brow.

“Alright, alright. Fine. I choose..truth.”

“Ugh, lameee. You’re no fun.” Jungkook piped up from the couch. He swung his leg in your direction, attempting to hit you.

“Hey watch it you little shit! Or I’m calling Namjoon and outing your ass.” Jungkook sputtered, almost choking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You wanna try me?” You held his glare until he sighed, waving his hand dismissively.

“Alright Miss Truth.” He looked thoughtful.

“Done any butt stuff?” You nearly threw your bottle at him.

“Well? You have to answer the question Y/N. It's the gameee.” You opened your mouth to abuse the brat when Hoseok chimed in.

“Yeah Y/N. It's the game.” You turned to look at him and blushed at the playful smirk on his face. Damn him for being so attractive.

You took an absurdly long drink before answering. Jungkook sat up, leaning until he was on the edge of the couch. Oh you were going to get him back for this.

“Yeah. I've done some..butt stuff.” Jungkook fell to the floor laughing, and rolled around until he could catch his breath to wheeze out-

“Oh my god really? I honestly thought you were gonna say no. Holy shit.” He was crying now, wiping  the obnoxious tears from his face. You didn't find it that funny.

“How did it feel?” Jungkook had managed to calm himself down and was pulling himself back onto the couch.

“Well if you must know it felt fucking awful. There wasn't enough lube but he insisted we go for it. I was stupid enough to let him convince me. Never again. End of story.” You finished off the rest of your beer and reached over to grab another one from the side table. You noticed it had grown silent and looked up to see Hoseok and Jungkook staring at you.

“What?” Your skin prickled nervously at the quiet.

“Wow. What a dick. He’s supposed to make you feel good too.”

“You offering Kook? Sounds like you know the area.” You spat out, still a little upset. He scoffed.

“No offense Y/N but that's disgusting and..you're not my type. Maybe Hobi would be so kind. He's got lots of experience from what I've heard.” He nudged the man in question with his elbow, wagging his eyebrows. Your eyes went wide. Hoseok was still for a second then propped his chin on his hand and stuck the tip of his tongue out.

“Well if you want to see how things are done right Y/N, give me a call.”

You squeezed the neck of the new bottle and coughed, disguising your embarrassment. Maybe you'd all had too much to drink.

“Isn't it your turn Jung Hoseok?”

He chuckled, leaning back to rest on his elbows and jutted his chin up, a signal that he was ready.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Wow. That was quick.

“See? Hobi knows how to have a good time.” Jungkook threw his hands up, flopping onto the cushions with a thud.

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking over your options. You held a lot of power in that moment and needed to use it wisely.

“I dare you to chug that whole thing.” You gestured to the drink he had barely touched, deciding to play it safe. Steer the conversation away from anything remotely sexual. Alcohol mixed with hormones was like playing with fire. Sure it was hot, but someone was always bound to get burned.

He glanced down at his hand, then back at you. Then a wide grin appeared on his face and his throat was suddenly blessing your vision. Oh shit. So much for it not being sexual. His head was tilted back all the way, the long curve of his neck golden and shining. Was he sweating or was it just your imagination? His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped and when he was done he wiped the remainder with the back of his hand. A droplet escaped his mouth, glistening as it trailed down his throat. You swallowed, not realizing you were staring until Jungkook reminded the room of his existence.

“Woo! My man!” He clapped Hoseok on the shoulder excitedly, shaking him enthusiastically. Hoseok gave a toothy grin in response, his eyes on you. When had it gotten so hot? Jungkook’s turn went by in the blur, and then it was yours again.

“Alright Y/N. If you don’t choose dare this time I’ll make sure to pick a really embarrassing question.” Jungkook seemed giddy at the idea. Was the last one not embarrassing enough? You really needed to find other people to hang out with. You swiped your sticky palms down your jeans. I’m gonna get you back for this kid.

“Ughh. Dare then.” It couldn’t be that bad. Could it? Jungkook kicked his lips, a wicked glint in his eye. Maybe there was no god. Your muscles tightened, preparing to bolt.

‘Just take it off now girllll, just take it off. Uh. I'm a master baby with your bra.’

The familiar chime of his ring tone had you flinching, your heartbeat thumping loudly in your ears. Jungkook glanced down at his cell and recoiled, jumping up.

“Ahhh shit shit. Its my brother. Oh man.” He paced around the room, taking in deep breaths. Your covered your mouth, holding in your laughter.

“Hey Namjoon. Where am I? Uhh I went out. To the store. For snacks.” He cringed at his own lie and you smiled at his turmoil. You heard the yelling at the other end of the line and saw Jungkook swallow. He was already pulling on his jacket, and glancing at the door. He looked back at you and Hoseok, embarrassment clear on his face. You blew a chaste kiss at him and waved him away, reminding yourself to tease the younger at a later time. No sooner had you done this was the boy gone, whirling out the door with the quickness of a trained athlete. With him he took the light joking atmosphere and you felt immediately uncomfortable.

It wasn’t as if Hoseok was a bad guy. He was originally Jungkook’s friend, the two meeting through their love of dancing. (That and chasing tail.) Being close to Jungkook you were soon introduced to the man in question and had fallen down the dark rabbit hole of attraction. If it was a small interest, you could have easily brushed off how his eyes would linger longer than necessary, or how he would make himself seen when you were around. No, you were hopelessly crushing on Jung Hoseok and couldn’t stop how tense your body got when it was just the two of you. You crossed your legs and  examined the chipped polish on your fingers, trying to avoid any eye contact with the man across from you.

“Hey.” You paused, whipping your head up at his voice. He mimicked your pose, his knees peeking out of the strategically ripped holes of his jeans. Why did his freaking knees have to look good too? You coughed, the dryness of your throat blocking your airway.

“Yeah?” You tried not to make the word a squeak.

“Want to continue the game?” You dug your nail into your palm. Jungkook was gonna get a talking to later. Maybe you should have told Hoseok to leave. That you were tired and had to work the next day. It would have been the smart thing. The safe thing. But a low buzz had already settled in your chest, warming your skin.

“Truth or dare?” Hoseok looked thoughtful, tilting his head.

“Dare.” Maybe it was the alcohol making you brave. Or it could have been the roar of blood pounding in your ears.

“I dare you to take off your shirt.” You weren’t sure if you had really said it out loud, but by the look on Hoseok’s face..you had.

“Huh.” He clucked his tongue, keeping his eyes on yours. This was so stupid. And inappropriate. Now he was gonna think you were a pervert. Great. You shook your head, holding the weighted alcohol bottle in a tight grip.

“Sorry, you don’t have to do that.. I think I’m just a little dru-“ In a flash Hoseok had lifted his arms, his shirt finding its new residence on the floor. Holy moly. You weren’t expecting that. Your face burned at the newly exposed flesh and you pretended to scratch at your eyebrow as an excuse to look away.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was lower than you remembered it to be before. You chuckled awkwardly and cleared your throat again, not knowing how to respond.

“My turn now, right?” He filled the silence after a moment and ran his hand through the curtain of hair that framed his face. You followed his movements like a hawk, marveling at how soft his locks looked. How would it feel under your own fingertips? You wondered. You nodded silently, giving him the go ahead. Your heart was loud in your chest, drumming a steady beat in your ears.

“Truth..or dare?” You knew you were walking into dangerous territory now.

“Um..dare?”

“Kiss me.” You blinked owlishly. This was not happening. You had to be dreaming.

“Excuse me?” His face remained impassive. Unchanged.

“Kiss me.” You considered throwing yourself out of the window. But honestly..would kissing your crush be the worst thing in the world? Your eyes gravitated to the deep cupid’s bow of his lips. No. No it wouldn't.

You got onto all fours, making a decision before you could think better of it. You slowly crawled over to where Hoseok sat, trying to avoid staring at his chest for too long. It wouldn’t make what you were doing any easier. His eyes were lidded when you approached, almost closed. And you could hear how measured his breathing was up close. His eyelashes were long, framing his feminine shaped eyes and high cheekbones. For someone so hot he was...pretty.

The lit lamps in the room cast soft shadows on his skin, painting him in tones of muted gold and chocolate browns. It felt really intimate like this, in the silence and closeness of your apartment. Like lovers stealing away into the night. But you knew that you weren’t lovers. You were two almost strangers only brought together by the coincidence of Jungkook. You clenched your jaw and stopped in front of him. This was just a game. Silly. Something to be laughed at later. It was wishful thinking to believe it was anything else. Feeling your body sink into the carpet you sighed quietly, before pushing your upper half forward.

His mouth was pliant, coming alive at your small pressure. They were smooth, sliding over yours as butter would on toast. You hummed, relishing in the pleasant feeling. The lips pressed to yours were surprisingly hesitant in reciprocating however, and you pulled away as that twinge of doubt resurfaced.

Hoseok’s hand shot out to grab your arm, startling you.

“Kiss me again.” He breathed, his exhale puffing onto your face. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him. Cheap beer mostly, but there was something else there too. Something dark and forbidden.You gripped a patch of carpet, uncaring of how damaged it would become.

“Unless you’re scared.” You floundered, your mouth opening and closing. Hoseok’s fingertips rubbed the crease in your elbow and you let out a shudder, your nerves trembling. Hoseok too was soon on his knees, moving to mimic your position. You were going to remark how it was your turn to ask him but found your body moving by itself.

You placed your hands on his bare shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice how they were shaking. His fingers traced up your sleeve until they came to rest on the underside of your jaw. You came close to his ear, close enough to touch. You wet your lips.

“Truth or dare Hoseok?” It was a whisper.

“I choose you.”

He tugged you forward, pressing his lips into yours insistently. Your chest came flush with his as he fell back on his knees and you tried not to topple into him. He laughed lightly, adjusting himself until his arms were secure around your waist. You sighed into his mouth, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. They were as soft as you expected. Hoseok groaned, pulling you down onto his lap so that you were now straddling him. This position brought your crotches level to each other and he took full advantage of this by digging his nails into your hips and grinding his pelvis into yours. Your legs tightened on the side of his and you whimpered, biting his lip to stifle the noise.

“Oh Y/N..I’ve waited so long for this.”

Hoseok’s hand came up to rest on the curve of your back, angling you until his mouth could be latched on your chest. You squeaked at the unexpected wet tongue and gripped his shoulder blades, trying not to completely dig your nails into his skin. Your thin sports bra was no match for the persistence of Hoseok’s tongue and soon the material was soaked from his attentions.

“If your goal is to make this bra completely unwearable then I’d say you were successful.” You laughed breathlessly. He paused to give you a simmering look.

“Glad you finally caught on.” He grinned. Oh. Said bra was off of you quicker than you could comprehend along with your top, with Hoseok clinging to your now bare skin. You bowed your back when he started to suckle a nipple, the vibrations of his humming sending jolts of pleasure to your lower region. The hair along your body prickled, alive at the erotic sensation. You pressed yourself down on his jeans, unable to help that you were basically dry humping him like a cat in heat. The noises you made were sharp and jerky, reflecting your desperation.

“Oh god-Hoseok. Please I-.” He nipped at your collarbone.

“Careful. You’ll make me come in my pants.” You stopped abruptly and gave an apologetic look.

“Sorry.” You muttered, panting.

“Here. I have an idea that will help you unwind. Lay back.” You raised an eyebrow at him. He gave a small smile in return.

“Trust me. It will be better for both of us.” He tilted you back slowly, until you were on the carpet, your legs still wrapped around him. What the hell is he doing? You tried to keep the thought from reflecting on your face.

“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You swallowed back a twinge of fear, choosing to grip the soft flooring to contain your shaking. Hoseok pressed light kisses down your body until he reached your bottoms. He looked up at you for permission and it was then you finally understand his intentions. You jolted upright and pushed at his shoulders in a panic.

“No no. You um, don’t have to do that.” The sentence fumbled out, your cheeks flaming. Hoseok let out a full bellied laugh then and you just wanted to recede into a hole.

“You really are something Y/N. You’re the first girl I’ve ever met to say they didn’t want to get eaten out. That’s cute.” He shook his head, eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Don’t laugh at me you ass! It’s just-just that no one has ever done that for me before.” You slipped out from under him and curled into a ball, tucking your head into your knees. After a moment you heard Hoseok curse under his breath before you felt a touch on your shoulder. You lifted your head up hesitantly.

"Y/N. Hey. I'm sorry. Really. I was just surprised is all. It’s okay if you don’t have experience with it.” He looked sympathetic and thoughtful.

“Here, maybe this will be easier for you.” He said after a pause. You glanced over at him warily, only to see him lay flat on his back.

“Um..what are you doing?”

“Come here.” He beckoned, waving you to his side with a curl of his fingers. You sighed, rubbing at your eyes and obeyed him before you could think better of it.

“Okay, now what?”  

Hoseok splayed a hand on your thigh, rubbing the cloth material.

“First you gotta get these off.” He smiled, not moving to do so himself, but letting you make the choice. If I do this I’ll be almost completely naked. Your nerves were starting to get the better of you again. You covered your chest self consciously. Hoseok’s face took on a serious expression.

“Y/N. We don’t have to do this. As much as I would nothing more than to have you screaming my name, I’m not gonna force you into anything.” The sincerity in his voice made you feel like an ass for thinking badly of him and you nodded your head before slowly slipping off your pants. You glanced at him to see his attention fully on you. With shaky hands you made to remove your simple panties when Hoseok protested.

“Leave those on actually. Just put your legs on either side of my head.”

“Umm what the hell?” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Hoseok rolled his eyes before pulling you on his chest. The skin to skin contact made you gasp and you braced yourself on his pecs, feeling lightheaded. Hoseok's large hands roamed up the back of your thighs, urging them into position around his head, his eyes black and shining. This was beyond strange to you. It seemed..rude to have your vagina so close to someone’s face.

“Relax baby.” Your muscles clenched at the nickname. You felt the probing of a finger around your pantyline and could feel the sharp inhale of air from the man underneath you.

“Mmm you have no idea how good you smell Y/N. I’ll have to thank Jungkook later for inviting me.” At the mention of the kid you scoffed but the noise turned into a shuddering gasp when Hoseok moved your underwear to the side and flattened his tongue to swipe along your folds. You nearly fell over but caught yourself by grabbing onto Hoseok’s hair. He repeated the action, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Not so bad is it?” He asked when he came up for air. You quickly shook your head, not able to form a response. You pushed your pelvis down on his tongue, riding the wet digit as his fingers dug into the meat of your behind.

"Oh Hoseok...oh god."

He hummed, holding you closer to his face, not letting up until your legs began to shake. Your body was pulsing, alive and burning. You rotated your hips, letting out a squeal when Hoseok gave attention to your clit. You yanked hard on his scalp until he gave a short shout.

"Sorry, sorry. I got carried away." He let out a breathless laugh, massaging the outside of your thighs.

"Its okay Y/N. I don't mind a little pain." He winked, before flicking his tongue out, resuming his attentions. You rocked against him, moaning in high pitched whines, feeling a familiar stirring below until you could take no more.

           "Oh ah-ah! I think I'm gonna-"

"Come all over my face Y/N." His voice was husky, the demand giving you the push you needed to tumble over the edge. You screwed your eyes shut, mouth open soundlessly as your hips chased the electric tingling coursing through you. You felt your release slick down your thighs, and shuddered violently as Hoseok lapped it up reverently.

Soon his touch became too much however, and you weakly rolled off of him, your body jelly on the floor. Your chest heaved and you briefly wondered how you had never done anything like this before. You felt in a way, cheated.

A shadow passed over your face then  and you glanced up to see a grinning Hoseok, his chin glistening. Mother of God. He ran his tongue over his mouth, collecting the remaining juices, before placing a light peck to your lips.

"You still alive?" He laughed at your disheveled state.

"Just get down here and kiss me again." You grabbed him by his shoulder, satisfied when he was tightly pressed against you. You were both panting, pawing at every inch of skin until Hoseok pulled away to fumble with the button of his jeans. He seemed to struggle with the material, from nerves or drunkenness you couldn't tell. He cursed under his breath after a third attempt, frustration evident in the heavy breaths.

"Here let me." You deftly undid the clasp of his pants, surprised at the steadiness of your hands. Hoseok seemed sheepish, not looking at you when he tugged the item down his lean legs. You sat transfixed, watching as his boxer briefs came into view, the front bulging. Well shit.

You were both now in only your underwear and stared at each other in silence. You swallowed loudly and flicked your eyes down to the mass before you, both intimidated and aroused. You could tell he was big, the tent in his boxer briefs leaving nothing to the imagination. You reached for them but was stopped by Hoseok. He cleared his throat but his sentence still came out hoarse.

“Another time, Y/N. I just...want to be inside you. If uh, you still want to.” He quickly added, scratching his head with his free hand. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, and leaned back to mimic his position earlier.

“I’m all yours.”

Teeth clashed together in a frenzy, tongues teasing and tasting sweaty skin. Remaining undergarments were ripped off, hands only briefly exploring before impatience got the better of you two. Hoseok held himself in his hands, and suddenly rubbed the tip on your clit, shocking you enough for a thought to cross your lust clouded brain.

“Hey Hoseok, do you have any protection?” It came out almost incomprehensible you were breathing so hard.

"Ah shit. Yeah I do. Sorry I almost forgot." He patted the area around him with one hand, still holding himself in the other. His dick was stiff and bright red, leaking already. Curiously you swiped the top of it, hearing a loud hiss  from Hoseok.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He swore, finding the condom in the back of his jeans and ripping it open with his teeth. He rolled it down on himself in one fluid move before he slid between your legs, fitting himself in the v shape. He stared at the inviting image of you for a moment before using a hand to grasp your hip.

"Can I-?"

As if he needed any more permission.

"God yes."

He entered you fast and you flinched, the stretch instantly painful.

"My bad my bad, here I'll be gentler." He promised, pulling out and pushing back in at a much more comfortable pace. He stopped when his hips were flush with your thighs and took in a shuddering breath. He waited approximately five seconds until he began to thrust sharply, causing your body to slide up and down the shaggy floor. What an embarrassing way to get rug burn. You thought, reaching for Hoseok to ground yourself. He got the hint and intertwined one of your hands with his own, leaving the other to control his movements.

He wasn't overly thick but he was long, reaching places deep inside you that soon had tears springing to your eyes.

"Are you-ah, okay Y/N?" He'd noticed your emotional reaction and slowed.

"Ye-yes! Don't stop. Don't stop please!" You arched your back, shutting your eyes against the red hot sensations burning through you. You clawed at the carpet, feeling your stomach twist and your toes curl. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a second one was coming fast.  You threw your head to the side, feeling utterly taken and oh so wanted.

Hoseok’s body stuttered then and his hips started to lose their rhythm.

"I don't know how much longer I'll last up here. I was already hard at the thought of seeing you tonight and then we kissed and-ugh you're so hot and wet. I just want to stay inside you forever." He was gasping, his words tumbling out in a slur, sweat caked on his tanned skin.

" I-I want to see you come again." Hoseok said suddenly, and you felt him rubbing erratically at your engorged clit.

You fell apart at his touch, bucking to meet the pleasure as your rode out your second high, only noticing that your partner was finished when he gave out a yell and was on top of you. You held him close, ignoring the twitching of your muscles in favor of burying your nose in his hair. Hoseok sighed and nuzzled your neck before pulling out of you and discarding the used rubber. He flopped down on the couch and waved you over, which you obeyed happily. You lay your head on his chest and listened to the strong thumping of his heart, wondering where in the hell you two would go from there. His fingers played in the curve of your back and you shuddered. You decided that maybe that thought could wait. 

Written by Rose 

[sunnysidekookie]

A  snippet of a story I don’t think I’m ever going to finish so im posting it here. enjoy!!

Maybe going out at 2 in the morning was not your best idea. Maybe stopping at a sketchy convenience store with flickering lights and a worker that looks like they could snap your head off in the blink of an eye was also not your best idea. However, you had to blame your rash and careless decisions on your rumbling tummy. 

Two in the morning is not the prettiest of times and most definitely not an hour you should be awake considering you have a Very Important Job Interview in about -you look down at your phone- 5 hours. Oof. So as you sit there, on a stool that will not hesitate to creak with any minor movements from you, you begin to wonder if these doritos are actually worth it. Yes, you got up from your very comfortable and warm bed and made a 15 minute walk through the almost freezing weather so you could munch on some freaking chips. Which by the way are actually kind of stale. And as you grab another triangular chip past its best from the crinkled bag to pop in your mouth you think, no, these chips are not worth it at all. Does that stop you from continuing to buy another bag? No, it does not. 

After making your second purchase and a couple of seconds of tense silence between you and the kinda scary cashier, you head back to your rickety chair towards the other side of the store. Just as you take your seat to resume your gorging, a faint bell is heard towards the front of the store. You pay no mind of course, as you have your attention set on a wrinkled brochure about travel and the top 10 activities to do with family. Or in other words, you are very easily entertained. 

‘Oh? This looks like fun maybe I should go sky diving’ you mumble to yourself

“Skydiving? You would pee yourself”

You whip your head in the direction of the familiar yet unexpected voice, eyes bulging when you see the very guy you have been crushing on for the past couple of months. 

“Oh heyy Jungkook, how’s it hangin’?” How’s it hanging? Are you kidding me? Can you be any less awkward right now?

Jungkook chuckles at your expense, taking a few steps towards you to sit on the equally as creaky chair to your left. You vaguely notice the handful of snacks in his hands, too occupied with his whole presence to think of anything other than damn he smells good.  

Jeon Jungkook the man of the campus, golden boy, and also the man you've had a hopeless crush on ever since you got paired up with him for a psych project all those months ago. Before that grueling project, you never really paid any mind to him. Sure you saw him around campus- always with these 6 other boys who might you add were just as attractive as him but that was all he was. A cute face. Not that he had no substance but you never really had the chance to get to know him but boy were you glad you did. Not even two months after that project from hell, you found yourself happily jammed into the little circle of jungkook’s life with no escape in mind. 

Now you weren’t one to catch feelings. Call yourself cold hearted, or “special” as your lovely mother likes to call it but that fluttering feeling in your stomach never really happened. Now, if  we’re talking about presenting projects in front of a full class of bored students, that is a whole other story. But we’re not and what started as a platonic relationship between two complete opposites is… still a platonic relationship between two complete opposites but now, Oh boy, were you in for a whole new roller coaster ride of soft feelings.

Being Jungkook’s friend is interesting to say the least. Once you get past the boundaries he doesn't seem to understand, it's really not that bad. At first you were a little thrown off at the way physical affection came so easily to him. If he didn’t have an arm slung around your shoulder while you walked to class together, he makes sure to have a hand gently gripping your wrist as a form of guidance. If he wasn’t swiping a stray eyelash off of your cheek with the tip of his pinky, he was tucking a loose hair behind your ear that had so graciously fallen out of your ponytail when trying to stuff your face with a foot long. Basically, Jungkook was always touching you. You never had the mind to look into it because as stated before; the relationship you and Jungkook share is stemmed from the roots of a tree named Platonic. 

Now, being Jungkook’s friend while also harboring feelings for said boy and trying not to expose yourself is a feat so ambitious, you’re surprised no one has caught on yet-that you know of. It's easy to let him hold onto you just a little bit longer and bask in the warmth of his embrace. Simple to just relax when he comes up behind you, hand placed on the small of your back with his phone in the other to share the latest song he’s had on repeat for the past week. Incredibly tempting to let your gaze linger just a few seconds longer when you're caught in the many impromptu staring contests he always begins. But you always pull away a little early, step forward to give your bodies space, and blink to break the staring contest because if you allowed yourself just a few more seconds, a few more moments in the bubble you two make, you would be caught red handed. 

So, right when you begin to feel the tepid beat of your heart begin to quicken its pace or heat tickle the tips of your ears to then travel to the apples of your cheeks, the moment is cut short by your cowardliness. By your inability to come to terms with the unfamiliar fluttering feeling in your stomach that came with being in his presence. 

Your hesitation and lack of basic social skills combined with your unfortunate refusal of your growing feelings for Jungkook, have all put a damper on your friendship with him. You wanted to get rid of your feelings the fastest and the only way you knew how: ignore him. And sure, that worked for like a week until messages from him flooded your phone with

Hey i'm going to the cafe after class

You want anything?

Seen 1:58

Y/N?

Hellooooooooo

Seen 2:22

I saw a dog on the way to class this morning and it reminded me of you :/

Loud and strangely adorable

….

YOU THOUGHT

uglyass

Seen 2:56

Y/N!!!

Are you ignoring me?

Seen 3:21

Heloooooo

What's going on??

Okay i'm coming over and you better open the door

So maybe ignoring him had slightly backfired because on that same day you found yourself being coddled by a Very Concerned jungkook because you told him you were “sick”. Lets just say you never ignored him again and your feelings decided it would be okay to make themselves at home.