#i saw a gif of them being chained up and boi was i convinced

[fbfh]

Tristin Dugray lore hcs

wc: 1k

warnings: mentions of broken/dysfunctional families, tristin's siblings both have drug problems, mentions of sexism and abortion (v briefly), mentions of cheating (also v briefly), tristin is not super close with his siblings, brief mention of DUIs (not tristin), I think that's it??

summary: lore on Tristin's family whipped up in my little plastic play kitchen by yours truly lol

a/n: I MISS HIM!!!! I SAW SOME GIFS THAT MADE ME SALIVATE!!!!! also!! in case it wasn't obvious the Dugray family is based on the real life Dupont family, just like how the Huntzbergers are based on the Sulzbergers

song recs: family jewels - Marina (ouch!), be here - palaye royale, everything is romantic - charli xcx

The Dugray family have made their fortune as far back as the American revolution, starting with immigrating to America and manufacturing gunpowder for the American soldiers

This eventually led to the Dugray family owning one of the largest and most established chemical manufacturing corporations in America, DuGray

They invented a number of household names like pyrex, teflon, styrofoam, and even superglue, and also make ppe for people who work with or around chemicals

A while back, they also acquired two bank chains on the east coast, one of which is for east coast businesses, and the other is expanding slowly across america. 

The Dugray family’s net worth is roughly 18.6 billion. I know. 

Also, the Huntzberger family’s net worth is roughly 21.7 billion. I know.

Tristin mentions at one point that he has a “matching set” of baggage with Paris, and we know Paris’s parents are not at all close to her, or each other

We also know that her father is the head of a pharmaceutical company, and when her parents divorced it was in the newspaper

So yikes!

Anyway the only family mentioned by name is Janlon Dugrey, his paternal grandfather (I’m assuming if Janlon was his mom’s dad he would have a different last name yk)

So OBVIOUSLY I had to flesh things out a little 

Looking at this family tree I made a while ago, Tristin has two older siblings: his oldest brother Royce, and his older sister and middle sibling Sutton

They’re both a bit older than Tristin, since his mom is their dad’s second wife

Truett DuGrey married Helena Holshire and had Royce, then Sutton

They divorced when Royce was around 7 and Sutton was almost 5 because Helena suspected Truett of cheating, and Truett suspected Helena of being a gold digger

Both were true

A couple years later, Truett is introduced to Blythe Ross while working on publicity for the banks his family as acquired 

Blythe and Truett didn’t necessarily get along, but she could handle him better than most other women he’s met 

They were actually introduced through Mitchum Huntzberger and his wife Shira, because Shira and Blythe are sisters

Surprise!

So Blythe gets pregnant and Truett can feel another Helena gold digger situation coming

That’s when Blythe tells him she can’t go to his work event because she has to go to a clinic

Truett stops in his tracks and realizes three things at the same time

Blythe is not in fact using a pregnancy to try and get access to his money

He loves his son Royce as much as he’s able to, but he’s already becoming apathetic and Truett can’t pass over the family business to someone with no drive or ambition

Royce is 10 by the way

Lastly, he realizes that this might actually be beneficial to him

So he convinces Blythe not to get an abortion and to elope instead

Once she gets her body back after the baby they’ll stage some wedding photos and claim it was from a little over a year ago so no one knows he had the baby out of wedlock

When she’s 18 weeks along, he schedules a private ultrasound to find out the baby’s gender

He tells her that if it’s a boy, everything will be fine

If it’s a girl, he’ll serve her annulment papers and nice fat alimony and child support checks to keep both of them out of his life

Blythe isn’t sure if she’s relieved or not when the doctors announce they’re going to be having a healthy baby boy, but Truett sure is

So he grows up watching his burnt out older brother and back bone of the family older sister navigate middle school and high school when he’s barely starting kindergarten

They don’t have any harsh feelings toward Tristin

Not really

They were just never that close yk

It’s like the pilot of umbrella academy, “we only see each other at weddings and funerals”

Except really, they only see each other when Truett forces them into whatever is going on with the family business, or to bail each other out of trouble

Royce is just waiting for his trust fund to kick in so he can fuck off and smoke weed in peace

Sutton is desperately trying to keep her image and life together while hiding her nicotine dependency and steadily growing pill problem from the public eye

And Tristin just wants to fucking feel something

His mom has been in and out of “med spas” and “wellness retreats” for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t recognize him, and the only time he and his dad talk is when he’s making charges go away

Sutton is engaged to this guy Clint

And he’s fine or whatever, Tristin hasn’t really talked to him much before

But he’s keeping his ear to the ground to make sure he treats his sister right

Sure Sutton can be condescending and a total control freak and act more like a mom than his actual mom

But she’s still his sister

So Sutton’s been off planning this huge wedding and trying to start some lifestyle brand for luxury dog beds and organic phone cases or something

Royce barely managed to keep his latest DUI for driving stoned under wraps but Truett still found out and sent him off to rehab

So Tristin starts high school at Chilton feeling almost lonelier than ever

Tristin aches for consistency, for stability

Thanks to Duncan and Bowman he sort of has that

And people like Paris that he’s literally been in school with since he can remember

It’s not that they’re particularly close, but he just likes that she’s always around when he’s going to and from class

There’s a few other people like that too, loose acquaintances that haven’t dropped out or transferred

They make him feel like even if everything else has gone to shit, he still has his winning personality

And he still has Chilton

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Fire and Blood (OCX Aegon II Targaryen, OCX Aemond Targaryen) chapter 9: Compensation and bathtubs.

Concept: After Aegon went feral and nearly ''killed'' (slightly strangled drunkly) Aemond you made the choice to stop being their fuckbuddy all together. But they convince you to stick around and continue which will all bring misery and downfall.

WARNINGS: DOM/SUB, DON/CON NON/CON, SMUT, dark aemond and dark aegon and bathtub fucking and pleasure denial and other disturbing things. ENJOY!:)

You are still upset about last night. How they fought over you. How Aegon even tried to kill for you. Sure, Aemond would have won; but you don't like that the emotions are getting that high. It's a matter of time before it all crashes and comes burning down.

You are enjoying a bath. You snuck out and went to another guest bathroom and made yourself a bath. No one knows where you are. You prefer it that way. Your maids will pity you, the boys are looking for you, and the guards don't even look at you since what happened to your father.

How he was slain. Killed for supporting the rightful queen. You loved Aegon at some point in your life. But not enough, never enough to not see he would be a terrible king. He would be another Maelor. He would be worse.

You feel two cold hands grab your throat before someone murmurs in your ear. You stiffen up and turn around. Aemond plays with his dagger and sharpens his nails like a cat when leaning against the wall. When Aegon is kneeling behind you and kisses your naked neck. 'There is our girl. Not hiding from us, are you?' He asks lightly, but there is something dark and dangerous too.

Cole's words make sense, all of a sudden. Somewhere nice. Somewhere safe.

You get the urge to scream. The memory of that night when they both shared you when you were punished is fresh in your memory. Especially how cruel they both were. They weren't taken over by desire like most men. They wanted to hurt you. They wanted to punish you and make you cry, and they did.

Yet you act like you are fine.  A handy skill at court. 'I would never.' You quickly blurt out. Aemond scoffs. He can read you too well. You are not the best liar, but Aegon wants to believe you so he does. He leans in gently and kisses your lips with a soft, nice kiss.

His brother glares at you when you are left to your own. 'You should have her. It was your turn when she got away.' He is sharpening a dagger. He brought a dagger. You tremble.

You give a soft whimper. Aegons breath catches in his throat, and he grins before kissing you down your neck.  'You picked a terrible room, you know that? No bed, no cushions. We should move you. This is hardly suited.' He wants to take care of you. He wants to make sure you are comfortable and taken care of.

Aemond already figured out why you were in this room and why you were alone. He knows you are avoiding them, and he doesn't like it one bit. He is much cruel and straight up. 'She made her choice.  Let her suffer the consequences.'

You raise your chin. 'I made my choice. I'm afraid that due to difficulties I won't be able to be a guest anymore. I will go home and live with my brother.' You say. You think this is the best for everyone involved.

Aegon roughly pushes you away from him, hurt written all over his face. Aemond just calmly smiles like he saw this coming already.

He kneels beside the bathtub and grabs your hands into his own. He stares at your breasts and extends his hand, ready to touch them. You slap it away. He grins and roughly chokes you when feeling your breasts. 'If I need to chain you, I will. If I need to force you, I will. If I need to rip your precious little wings off so you won't fly, I damn well, little Beesbury.' You whimper.

You break free and loudly cry out for help. 'Guards! Help!' You cry out helplessly. Scared of what they will do now that you have told that you will back away from them.

Aegon joins his brother. 'Don't be stupid, Lady Beesbury. We love you. We provide for you. What is it? Don't like the way Aemond fucks you?' He says with a boyish grin.

You look at your hands until aemond forces your chin up and forces you to look at Aegon.'He is a bit rough. But that's not it. What if someone finds out. Like the former queen? Or my family? I'll be ruined. Forever. House Beesbury may go down because of me. House Beesbury may be ruined. Because of me. I can't keep throwing away my prospects and future like this. You are Targaryens. You have nothing to lose. I have everything to lose.' It comes blurting out, and it makes the two of them more aware of the situation.

Aegon has a idea on his sleeve. He smiles at you.'You worry about your future. How about compensation from the crown?' You never even thought that was possible.

You play with your hair. 'How much are we talking?'

Aemond glances at his brother. 'I don't agree. We shouldn't give her a penny. She is our subject she will do as we command her.' He says and you feel trapped and scared.

'I'll see what I can do.' Aegon says with a smirk and a wink. You are then kissed by him. He grabs your arm and pushes you to the edge of the tub. He strips and joins you. You are forced against the edge of the tub and feel him feel your body in the slightly colder water.

'We prefer heat.' He says before shoving himself inside you. A deliciously familiar feeling takes control and you buck back, fully aware of how full you feel. You are fucked quickly and harshly.

He whispers in your ear when you slowly whimper. 'Good girl. Very good girl.' He praises you and you enjoy it. You roll back your head in your neck and cry out his name. He sees that as a sign to hurry up and continues to fuck you brutally in the tub for the next few moments.

He comes and growls out your name. You soon join him. He releases his tight grip and gets out of the tub. Water drips everywhere he goes.

Aemond claps mocking you. It's his turn now. He seems upset. You get back in position so he can do the same as Aegon. He scoffs and grabs your arms before pulling you out of the tub and onto the cold stone floor tiles. You feel his fingers shove up your sensitive and wet insides and he undresses quickly.

You are wet and cold. You would prefer being back in the tub. You would prefer being dried off first and maybe a nice warm bed before he does this. 'Aemond, I'm cold. Can I dry off first? I will reward you with being good.' You promise.

He laughs scoffing. 'And what makes you think you won't be good for me naturally? Does your ass love to be spanked or something?' He leans in and smacks it. You groan.

He whispers in your ear. 'I will fuck you on the stones.' You look at the terrible cold and uneven stones. That will be painful.

You quickly lower your head and start apologising. You want him to have mercy. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you and-'

He pushes his fingers against your lips silencing you. 'You will be.'

You gasp and are spread. You feel a familiar finger up your insides inspecting you. Your left hand is grabbed and soon you feel yourself rub off a groaning Aemond. He calls you his whore and you nod in agreement, far away in pleasure. He doesn't warn you. He doesn't tell you.

But one moment you are grabbed by your legs and fucked. He goes deep and harsh right away and you moan in pain and pleasure. Aegon looks on a bit concerned but doesn't interrupt his brother.

You hold to the ground and soon your hands and knees are injured and bleeding. 'Ow. My hands and knees are bleeding. Please. May I have a blanket?'

He laughs deliciously before sucking on your earlobe. You whimper and buck your ass to him, signalling that you want his cock hard and fast. He slows down; making you frustrated and whimpering. He is toying. Punishing. 'No.'

Your hands hurt. Your knees hurt. But your body wants it so badly. Your mind is turned off. All there is Aemond and Aegon and you want to be a good girl for both of them. You enjoy feeling filled up and you even enjoy it when they shove and command you around. You like being their special girl and you love their attention. But you might love the way their cocks feel shoved in more. You feel so deliciously full and warm when they fuck you.

Aemond comes and you are forced to feel his fingers. It's difficult to finish that way, as you would prefer his cock fucking you. 'Aemond, fuck me with your cock. Please I need you.' You confess slightly whimpering.

He laughs again. 'You won't come. Part of your punishment, little Beesbury. Best think before upsetting me in the future.'

You rub him off and cry, bucking your hips to his fingers. 'P-please finish me off. Make me come.' He sighs before teasingly rubbing your cunt. The tip enters and you relax. But that's all you get. Just the tip and a smirking sadistic ass.

You are disappointed and hurt when Aemond dresses again. You seek comfort in the arms of Aegon. 'Shht. It's done. You did it. Good girl.' He whispers when you cry out in his arms. He pets your hairs. 'Now it's my turn.' He takes your hand but once again you are not placed in the tub.

The wall. You never were fucked standing and you are not sure if you can take it. Aegon has no mercy for that and simply pins you and roughly spreads your legs and slams into you, after he Forced your legs around his hips. He groans and sinks in your wetness before he starts to fuck you.

Deep. Rough. Fast. You prefer it over the slow sadistic torture of Aemond. Gasps and moans escape you ad you are happily panting and soon feel the pleasure back where it was. Aegon suddenly drops you to your feet and sinks to his knees before his mouth gently places against your hot wet cunt. Before you can ask what he is doing there, on his knees and near your cunt his tongue slips out and takes a rough and through licking of your wet cunt. You gasp and grab hold of his silver short hairs panting and whimpering. 'How was that? Like it when I eat you?' He guesses. You nod.

'Yes. Gods. That felt so good.' Aegon chuckles before licking you again. You moan deeper and ready for more. He understands and pleasures you this way until you are so close. Then, he stands up. He grabs you and simply slams your legs on his hips again before roughly impaling you against the cold castle walls.

Aegon is quick to push his hands on your mouth when you scream and cry out his name finishing. Aegon fucks your now dripping and soaked cunt and takes out his frustrations. You adore it. He comes as well. He injects it in you and you feel good and warm.

You pant. Aegon laughs. 'Good girl. Very good girl.' He knows it. You like praise and approval and he is more than happy to give it to you. You lean and wait for him to pet your head and to kiss you and he does. He is so gentle with his after-loving. So kind.

Another nearly growling voice interrupt. 'What are you even attempting, little girl? You know it's my turn now. Best get over here or I will spank you.' He threatens.

You quickly rush to his side and look at him in worry. He grins before grabbing your arms and turning you around. You already know what is next and you don't like it. You tell yourself you don't like getting spanked. But another dark part of you finds its so arousing and nice to feel his hands on your ass and to feel his fury and his displeasure. You want to please them, but you at the same time love it when they are rough and strict.

He roughly smacks grinning. You just stand there, taking it and accepting it when also crying out when his slaps get harder and more cruel. 'Ow! Ow!' You know he likes the sound of your cries.

'I warned you.' He nearly sings. You are upset hurt turned on and angry at the same time. So many intense emotions.

You are stimulated. You are happy and pleased panting and rolling your front to his fingers. You are on his lap as he touches your cunt and your insides. You look around the room and wonder where you'll be fucked next.

You find it too narrow. Too painful. He just laughs away your fears and worries and impales you on his stiff cock. You groan as soon as the cock enters and enters you; the familiar way of harsh fucking returns. You like it. You buck your body, and turn so you can face him. You cry and fuck him again, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He gets up and takes you with him, shoving his cock up you once more. You cling to him and want to finish already. You know you won't yet. Aegon smirks and follows you and Aemond into another room.

And there is... A bed. You nearly gasp. Aemond seems to understand your excitement and walks you down to it...

Only for you to end up on the hard looking desk next to it. You feel betrayed. You are fucked, bossed around and eventually injected with his warm seed.

You are panting and feel your dripping and wet cunt. As Aemond is preparing for the next round aegon grabs you and throws you on the bed. You are fucked intense. He comes in your face this time; coating your face with his cum. 'Lick it.' He instructs. Him and Aemond watch eagerly as your tongue slowly rols out and licks away some of the dirty tasting hot and salt tasting seed. Aegon groans and fucks you again.

After he is finished.

Aemond looms over you and grins before shoving his cock up your face. You open your mouth but you are slapped lightly. You like it. He comes much more lower and coats your chin and lips.

You are forced to lick it even If your tongue can't reach it. They are amused and laugh when you blush and try your best to clean yourself like a little kitten. Aemond watches you struggle a few moments, that feel more like eternity before he has mercy and fucks you.

It's been enough. You are spend. They can tell very easily. They dress again and help you dress too. You are thrown over Aegons shoulders since you can't walk without limping and are brought back to your room.

[joyfuldeepend]

Consideration

R and I were out to dinner last week. She had never had Red Lobster and somehow convinced me to take her (doesn’t take much bc she’s usually pretty sweet when it’s just the two of us). Red lobster in general isn’t much to write home about and typically when you go there you know that. Well R had never been to Red lobster and saw something on tik tok so there we were.

The dining experience left a lot to be desired but you don’t go to a chain like that (or shouldn’t) expecting to be blown away. So that was a learning experience for R who loves hibachi buffet and seafood boils. So we worked through expectations and comparing what we want versus what we get.

There was what appeared to be a double date happening one row over (2 Caucasian teenage couples, assuming seniors). Normally I am aware of those around but not typically dialed into the situation. The boys in the situation were determined to ensure everyone knew theirs. They made loud comments about how they should have gone to outback or Texas Roadhouse. The were verbally frustrated at the service and the way their food came after grilling the server about the menu and how the things were made or tasted.

When their food came they made the server stand there while they both saw if their steak was medium. Then continued the grumbling and disgust while the girls giggled. It was annoying and close to closing time so not many ppl to drown out their outbursts. R & I continued our eating and convos despite their interruptions. At one point I made R laugh and she started choking and laughing…and if you’ve met R she’s either quiet and moody or loud and silly. This was a loud and silly night. As a general rule I try not to censor her if it’s not inappropriate behavior. Side note: she has adhd and has a ton of intrusive thoughts and doesn’t get to verbalize a ton. When she’s with me not a lot embarrasses me so I let her get it all out so she does her “good behavior” aka be quiet and not seen stuff when with others. Well she was laughing loud (as many do) and then making choking sounds (don’t worry she was ok) and one of the boys started mocking her. Just as I was starting to speak up, R stopped laughing and told them to basically shut up or she’d beat them up 😂😂 I squashed that quickly and R and I talked about how it wasn’t worth it and how they had to live the consequences of their poor behavior. She thought for a moment and said “you’re right Joy…see that’s why I don’t like white people (not you Joy) but people like that.”…. It was tough not to agree with that sentiment as I watched those teenagers be entitled, rude and have zero consideration for the servers, the fellow diners or even how they were acting. I ended up saying something to my server and ensuring that table’s servers tip was covered.

While I’ve always known that I like when things are in harmony and people get along, what I can’t get behind is not saying something bc it makes things uncomfortable. I learned lately that when myself or others are not considered it makes my blood boil. Doesn’t matter the why, it matters the intent. Just bc someone is having a bad day doesn’t mean they get to take it out on someone. If someone can’t afford something, being mean to people to give a reason for why their bill should be comped isn’t right (in my opinion). I remember some years ago a friend at the time told me that hurt ppl hurt ppl as an explanation for their behavior towards me. I countered that that phrase is an explanation for those who’ve been hurt by that not an excuse to act in poor behavior due to hurt.

R and I drove home in silence and even 24 hours and it still stuck with me. My dad drilled into us about how to treat wait staff and delivery people. And also that creating safe space for others to belong was foundational as Jesus followers. When I experience people without regard for that it does something in me. I’ve asked myself if I should have been more vocal, there are about 10 tongue lashing stories I have in my head for the scenario. Or did I respond the right way. What is the point that takes us from bystander to advocate or to action. I don’t know what the point is, but I walked away disappointed in those teens and also how they represented themselves and my culture to others. We are all representing more than ourselves in every situation and sometimes it is hard to keep that in mind. What I do know is it doesn’t take much to be kind and have consideration for others. Thanks for joining me in the deep end today. May you give and receive consideration this season!

[januaryembrs]

I DIDN'T LOVE HIM AS I SHOULD | Arvin Russell x reader

Description: You had been in love with Arvin for five years. Why did he wait until you were engaged to confess his feelings for you?

Length: 4.6k+

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Lenora's su*cide, mention of Arvin's troubled childhood, foul language, death, mention of dead rabbit, brief light smut.

main masterlist

Note: I rewatched little women last night and I love everything about amy and laurie (guilty pleasure oops) and seeing as it was tom’s birthday yesterday I thought I’d write this little thing. Had to include Lenora bcus Eliza Scanlon my queen.

Arvin Russell was many things. Grumpy. Protective. Fiercely loving over the people he held dear. Chain smoker (despite how many cigarettes you’d smacked out of his hand only for him to pull another out with a kiss of his teeth). Loyal. Hot headed as hell. Hilariously dry-witted when he wanted to be. An amazing brother and grandson for one and your best friend for another.

But above all, Arvin Russell was fucking clueless.

You had liked the boy since the day you met him when your friend Lenora dragged her adoptive step-brother to church with her not five years before. Arvin had been living with them for some time then, a boy of fifteen years, but hadn’t been convinced to attend Sunday prayer until then. Lenora said he threw a fit about it the morning before but went anyway, after hours of her begging him to keep the two of you company.

After that, you saw him everywhere.

He was taking you and Nora to the cinema in town, he was helping you carry groceries, he was helping you with homework, he was cycling to yours with Nora on the front of his bike, asking if you wanted to come play in the lake down the street from your house. He was everywhere.

He was in your head all the time too.

It was really very easy to fall in love with Arvin Russell, and yet he had the hardest time figuring it out it seemed.

You didn’t know exactly what had done it. You remembered one time during your lake excursions, the three of you spent all afternoon building a rope swing on one of the overhanging branches using a burst tyre from the Russell’s car. It worked well. Arvin went first, swearing as he hit the freezing cold water and resurfaced, spitting out the filthy water that had entered his mouth mid-curse. Nora was next, she was much more graceful, swinging backwards and forwards a few times before she jumped, landing in the water with a squeal of joy.

Then came you. You felt your hands start shaking as you reached for the rope - had it always been this high? It looked so fun when they had done it and now it was your turn, you felt like sitting this one out. The rocks banking the tree that held the rope suddenly seemed much more jagged and lethal than they had before.

“Come on, doll! Water’s lovely and warm,” Arvin yelled, treading water near where he’d plummeted into the lake. The weather had been one of the hottest summer’s Knockemstiff had ever seen so you didn’t doubt him. You put one foot in the middle of the tyre and  kept the other safely on land, but even that seemed like too far of a step so you retreated.

“C’mon, Y/N!” Nora yelled as you frantically shook you’re head, laughing nervously.

“No! I’m not doing it, I’m scared!” You confessed back, though you chuckled all the same. This wasn’t some perilous task, not a matter of life or death, so you still found the humour in it but your nerves were shaken nonetheless.

“Do it!” Arvin called, shaking his hair out, “You got this doll, come on!”

“Hurry up, this water’s disgusting!” Nora added, screaming when Arvin chuckled devilishly and splashed her in the face with a wave of the stagnant lake. “Arvin!”

“Tell you what, darlin’” the brunet boy called up to you, “You get in now and I’ll give you a kiss as a reward,” Being the fourteen-year-old girl you were, and Lenora being only ten at the time, you both grimaced.

“Ewww!” You chorused, laughing at the way the boy’s face dropped.

“We’re trying to get her in the water, Arvin, not send her running home,” Lenora quipped, and you laughed loudly. Nora was known for being the quiet one of your trio, which meant when she had something slightly sassy up her sleeve, it had you in stitches.

Arvin scoffed, though he had a smirk perched on his lips, “You’ve got some mouth on you today, missy,” He said splashing her with the water again. She screamed and copied his actions though her hands were much smaller and sent mere droplets his way, and their roars of glee met your ears. That really did look fun, you pined to yourself.

“Alright, alright!” You said, putting your foot back in the tyre and leaning back for extra grip. “Pucker up, buttercup.”

With that you took a deep breath, squealing with nerves and jumped. As soon as your second foot left the ground, you swung forward, trying not to think too much as you released when the rope reached its peak. You plunged into the water after a moment of what felt almost like flying, and for a split second everything was silent. The water muted the sounds of the outdoors, and you just let yourself still under the water.

Did Arvin really just offer to kiss you? The thought rolled around your head. And suddenly you were imagining it, pressing yourself against him and taking his lips in your own gently. The oddest heat spread across your chest and, at the feeling, you didn’t find the thought of kissing your best friend so disgusting anymore. In fact, you found it intriguing. You found it tempting. You heard Arvin say something to you but it was muffled by the water. The burn of breathlessness tugged at your throat and you had to leave your daydream behind as you kicked your legs until you reached the surface, bursting through the water with a deep breath. Your hair gripped the back of your neck, and you rubbed your eyes to get the remnants of the water from clinging to your eyelashes.

“We were beginning to think you’d passed out on your way down.” Lenora joked, swimming towards the bank to pull herself out, “I bet I could do a flip!”

You cheered after her, treading the oddly clear water beneath you, and turning your attention to Arvin. He looked at you smugly, before leaning in and purposely puckering his lips out to you.

“Fuck off and keep dreaming, lover boy,” You said, shoving him away with a laugh, though your trail of thought hadn’t left you since you’d surfaced. Part of you only wished you’d taken his offer.

Four years later, that ‘odd heat’ in your chest was a full-blown forest fire that spread all over your body whenever you were in proximity of Arvin Russell. He only had to look at you with those soft, brown eyes and you were putty. He had only gotten better looking with time too. His arm muscles had bulged with all the manual work his Grandma asked him to do for her, his hair had gotten longer and curlier, he had a certain ruggedness to him that would make any nineteen-year-old boy into a heartthrob. It was really no surprise when he started meeting the other girls.

You had been best friends since you’d met. Though Lenora was your friend too, you saw her much like a sister to you than a best friend. You and Arvin would take last night drives together when she had bible study, or if she had homework to do seeing as you had now graduated. You would drive him places some days, and he would drive you others. You would talk to him about the grown-up shit you couldn't put on a fourteen-year-old, like your fear of never leaving Knockemstiff or the time you’d gotten close to confessing your feelings for him and told him you worried you’d never find anyone who could love you the way you wanted. He told you about his parents and how he was orphaned, and the dark thoughts he had because of how tragic his life had been, how some days he got so angry and frustrated at the world for doing that to him that he wanted to scream until he burst a vessel.

You were so heartbroken when he told you he’d lost his virginity.

It seemed so stupid, probably because in your own world you’d always hoped the two of you would make it and he’d suddenly take you in his arms during one of your many car rides and confess that “I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long. You’re the one for me. You always have been.” The daydream had lulled you to sleep through tears, begging the universe to give him to you. You didn’t deserve a boy as sweet as Arvin, no one did for that matter, but you cried and pleaded with anyone in the heavens listening to make him yours.

So it hit you like a gun shot to the chest when you got in his car one morning to see his face pulled into a gleeful grin.

“What’s gotten you so chirpy? You’re usually grumpy before your morning coffee.” You noted, fastening your seat belt as he set off towards the diner you spent every weekend in sharing a stack of pancakes.

“Nothing,” He said, but the smug undertone said otherwise.

You sighed, smiling at the boy, “Don’t make me ask again, Arvin. Clearly there’s something you wanna tell me.”

He wetted his lips with his tongue, and you swear you didn’t hear what he said as you focused on his mouth moving. His cherry lips parted with words that sounded muffled, the same way it had that day at the lake when you were submerged underwater, again with your head full of this boy. But your mind snapped into gear like an awful realisation as it made sense of what he said.

I had sex this morning.

“What?” You said, brows furrowed. The air left your lungs and you all but gawked at the boy infornt of you who hadn’t realised his mistake. There was no real mistake to realise, it wasn’t cheating but it hurt you as though it had been.

“I had sex this morning. Right where you’re sitting actually.” He laughed, knowing you’d probably find that gross but would commemorate him for the big step he’d taken. Instead, he found you staring at your shoes, hands folded into your lap looking disgusted with yourself.

He’d done it with someone else. He’d taken his clothes off. He’d taken her clothes off. He’d put it inside her. He’d made her moan his name. He’d had her, not you.

And the worst part was you had no grounds to be upset, yet your heart had been wrenched from your chest right there and then. The mental images were conjured up before you could stop them, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from welling in your eyes. It was no use. You discreetly turned to look out the window as you heard him ask if you were okay. You nodded silently, brushing your cheek on your shoulder quickly and wiping your nose. He was expecting an answer. You felt his hand on your thigh trying to grab your attention, and all you could do was pull it away. His hands felt dirty now they had been on her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just saw a dead rabbit on the road, is all.” You made up the excuse, clearing your throat and turning back to the boy with a very clearly wobbly smile on your face. “Well done, lover boy.”

You wished that could have been the only time your heart had broken because of Arvin, but it wasn’t. Girl after girl, week after week you were forced to sit in the exact seat they’d done it in. It made you feel sick to even look at his car now knowing your seat had become reserved for whichever girl it was that week. Soon, you simply had to accept the fact you weren’t Arvin’s special girl anymore.

Some days you thought back to the boy in the lake and you cursed yourself every fucking day for not kissing him. Atleast then you could have had a taste of heaven before the golden gates had slammed in your face.

You found something close to peace when you met Fred. He was good looking, ambitious to get out of Knockemstiff as you were, rich enough to get you there and he was nice to you. That was all you needed. You needed someone to fill the gap ripped into you by Arvin and the girls in his car. You liked Fred, you really really did. There were moments he’d make your heart flutter if he said something awfully sweet, or he’d make you laugh telling you a joke he’d made up with his friend’s that day. He was good, but your wretched mind would put it into your head that he wasn’t Arvin.

He just wasn’t the same, and no amount of jokes or sweet words could make him so.

But when you had been dating for almost a year, it came as no surprise when he proposed. The ring was lovely, the diamond huge and crystal clear clarity courtesy of his parents wealth no doubt. He looked at you with such hope, and for a moment you really could see a future with him. You’d never tell him that you were happy to settle for him, but that’s what you were. But it was with an amazing man who held such promise and treated you the way you’d always wished Arvin would.

He gave you what you wanted, and that was enough for you to say yes.

The second the ring was on your finger, he’d scooped you up in his arms and whispered that he had booked an engagement getaway for the two of you. Two months away, in a far off country where the sun was warm and where the cocktails would be sweet enough to take away from the taste of alcohol. It sounded wonderful, and you couldn’t wait to tell Arvin. He would be so happy for you, and two months without seeing him and solely focusing on your new fiancee would no down squash any last feelings you had for the boy.

You practically bounded over to his car when he pulled up outside Fred’s home. You had spent all day with him and Arvin agreed to drive you home on the way back from work seeing as he would have had to go past their house anyway. You pulled your new fiancee for a long kiss, hearing Arvin beeping his horn for you to hurry up. You laughed at the boy, as did Fred and you pulled away, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer.

“Sorry, got caught up.” You said, smiling as Fred waved the two of you off. Arvin gave him a brief raise of the hand back before his foot hit the accelerator. You smiled out the window, seeing Knockemstiff pass by for what would soon be the last time in a while. You’d miss your friend’s dearly, but you’d be coming back so it’s not as though you’d be seeing them for the last time ever. It would only be a few months.

“What, sucking some guy’s face off?” Arvin asked, only half-joking as he almost groaned at the thought.

“Like you’re one to talk. Which girl was it this week, Arv?” You teased, knocking against his elbow when he didn’t say anything.

“Didn’t have any girls this week actually.” He replied shortly, and you guessed work had been hard. Using his right hand to reach over and open his glove box he fondled around for a moment before grunting. “Can you get my cigarettes please, doll?”

You snorted a laugh, sticking your own hand into the compartment and quickly finding the smokes. You pulled them out and handed him the red packet, completely forgetting about the new amenity on your finger. “What wrong? Can’t get it up?”

“Yeah, real funny. Actually I-” Arvin was in the middle of grumbling when his eyes narrowed in on the diamond. “What the fuck is that?”

You almost reeled back at his tone, though you put it down to surprise. You had to admit, married at eighteen was ballsy and not something you would do but Fred was the best guy you’d ever find actually willing to spend his life with you. It's not like Arvin had shown any interest let alone offer first.

“What does it look like, stupid? I was going to tell you when you stopped the car.” You replied, pulling your hand back to inspect the ring with a smile. It really was gorgeous.

“How- When?” Arvin asked, bewildered. His eyes were so wide you were sure they were going to pop out of the sockets, and his lips lacked the smile that was plastered on your own.

“Last night. He took me out to dinner on that fancy place uptown. He said he was going to hide it in the desert but decided it was too nice to get crumbs and frosting over, can you believe that?” You said with a light laugh, frowning when you heard silence back. You turned your head to see the boy clenching the steering wheel with white knuckles, a face looking forlorn. He had never seemed so much like a little boy as when you looked at him them, as though he looked lost and confused waiting for someone to tell him what to say. “Arv, you okay?”

Something about your engagement must have pissed him off, seeing as he had seemed alright until the huge rock had made its way into his periphery. He grumbled a response, something half hum that you couldn’t tell was a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, and carried on driving. You felt your smile slip away almost instantly, and your lips pulled down into a pout as you couldn’t deny your feelings had been hurt that he was being so rude.

“I would have thought you’d have been happy for me,” You said quietly after a few minutes of silence. It was clear he didn’t approve of this, whether it was cause he was just so different to Fred and found him a little uptight at times you couldn’t be certain, but he was your best friend at the end of the day. You would have guessed he’d at least wear his disappointment better. “I was going to ask you to be a groomsman,”

Arvin scoffed, and you frowned even further. His noise of disappointment left a bitter taste in your mouth and you decided you’d had enough of trying to appease his bad mood and stayed quiet.

The drive was silent for the next few minutes until he pulled up outside your house. You instantly leapt up out of your seat, swinging the door shut on the boy with the foul mood and not even bothering to say goodbye. Perhaps he could spend the next few months, while you were on holiday with your fiancee, thinking his attitude over. You got all but halfway up the steps to your home before another car door was shut and your name was called.

Spinning back on your heel, you watched Arvin walking towards you with a stone-cold serious look on his face, though he was wringing his hands the way he did when he was nervous.

“Doll, please…” He trailed off, coming to stand on the path in front of you. You moved back down the few stairs you had ascended, and stood before of him, though the raise of your eyebrow told him he was walking on a thin line. “Don’t marry him.”

You pulled back in shock. What had he just said?

“What?” Your voice was small, confused. There was no way he was seriously asking this of you.

“Don’t marry him.” He repeated. You frowned at him, watching his soft brown eyes lower in sadness.

“Why?” You asked coldly. This was your chance of happiness, your chance to get over Arvin once and for all and even then he was standing in the way of it. The guilty look on his face told you everything you needed to know, and he reached out to take your none ring-bearing hand in his. He took a deep breath as if preparing himself for confession, but he was stopped when your empty laugh caught him off guard. “You have some fucking nerve, Arvin.”

He looked even more guilty than before as you drew your hand away from his. You felt the tears lacing your eyes, how could he do this to you now. How could he stand here about to confess that he liked you, that he wanted you, when you had been waiting too damn long for those words. “I’m sor-”

“You’re so fucking mean, Arvin. You know that?” You said, as the first tear broke the surface and trailed down your face. “All those girls I had to watch you with, all those times I’d get into your car and you’d have just dropped them home from a quick fuck-”

“I was trying to forget you-” He tried to excuse but you only scoffed. He hated seeing you so furious, so sad because of him, and he only wanted to wipe the falling tears away like he always would do. He wasn’t lying. That had been the reason for all those girls coming back to his car. In fact, he always specified that they would do it in that seat, your seat, because in some twisted way Arvin could pretend it was you that he was kissing, you that he was touching in those places. You had descended into full-blown crying, but your voice was surprisingly steady.

“I don’t believe you, Arvin. I will not be the girl you fall back because you can’t get any others to fuck you this week. I won’t be the girl you have as your second choice because Cindy or Sarah or any of those other girls don’t want you around right now, do you hear?” You said, ready turn back and storm up to your front door. You let a silent sob pass through your lips as you looked at him one last time for what would be months seeing as your flight was in the next few weeks and you doubted either of you would want to see each other. He looked sad, like a kicked puppy being scolded by its master. “I won’t be the girl you run to now, not when I’ve spent my life stuck in love with you, Arvin.” With that, you left, not wanting to hear a single word that he had to say.

---------

You couldn’t believe it when you heard. Nora, your sweet Lenora. The girl who had stood next to you and sang hymns and read prayers, the girl who you drove to school, the girl who had screamed and cried to you when she’d gotten her first period. That Lenora was gone.

You had spent all week bawling your eyes out, refusing to believe what your mother had told you was true. Fred tried to cheer you up by reminding you your engagement getaway was due in a few days, but you couldn’t think of anything worse than going on holiday now. And then, as the uncertainty of the trip came along, doubts of the marriage came with it as they had since the beginning. You knew you were being selfish by marrying Fred. He deserved a woman who would love him completely, undoubtedly, not one using him to get over someone else. Ofcourse you loved him, but it felt much more like friends between the two of you. Even when you kissed it felt awkward to you, there was no spark, no butterflies, no wildfire like there was when Arvin so much as looked at you.

You knew what you had to do. It would be hard, and you would feel guilty but you knew what was right.

That was how you found your way back to Arvin. It was surprisingly by accident, but then again you two had always been so in sync that it was no surprise you went to the same place to think Lenora’s death over.

The lake.

He was sat on the small bank where you’d built the rope swing, pushing the tyre out only for it to pendulum back for him to catch it and repeat. If he heard you coming he didn’t show it, or maybe he knew it was you and decided to give you the silent treatment. His hair was messy at the back as though he’d been tossing in his sleep and hadn’t brushed it, and he was wearing the scruffy clothes he threw on when he was working on his car.

Either way, the air was palpable between the two of you as you sat down next to him, the tears already in your eyes. You had wanted to be strong when you told him this, but there was so much to say, so much unsaid between the two of you that it grabbed you in a chokehold the moment you saw him.

He turned to look at you slowly and his eyes were red already, chin wet with tears that had gathered there.

You didn’t say anything. You simply looked at one another with the same bloodshot eyes, the same creased brow, the same pained expression, before you moved to crush each other in a hug at the same time.

You sobbed into his shoulder, he hid his face into your neck. You were both hurting, but you understood one another. The month of radio silence from him hadn’t changed that.

You didn’t want to breach the subject of Lenora now, you knew him too well to know it was too fresh a nerve to touch as of yet. So you stayed quiet for a moment, just wrapped in each other the way you knew you needed to be.

You found your voice after a moment and you announced what you had come searching for him to say.

“I’m not marrying Fred,” You murmured into his shoulder, and you felt him tense up. He didn’t say anything however just simply pulled back to look at your expression, which avoided his gaze. You couldn’t look at him when you said this, you were sure you’d break down crying again. “I didn’t love him as I should have. I didn’t love him the way I love-” The word ‘you’ hung in the air, and you had to draw in a breath to hold back your tears. “But I know this is really hard right now with her gone, and so you don’t need to say or do anything-”

He stopped you talking with his lips. You felt him cup your face and just like that the raging flame that had died out was back, crawling down your throat from the point where his lips met yours. Your lungs were seized with smoke that didn’t choke or stutter, it only brought want and need like nicotine and you suddenly understood why he smoked if it felt even half as heavenly as this.

So you kissed him at the lake, five years too late but a lifetime to make up for it.

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[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[milkybonezz]

mike hanlon fluff that boy deserves it

YES HE DOES YES HE DOES YES HE DOES YES HE DOES YES HE DOE-

i now present to you:

Birthday wishes

Morning seeped in through the flimsy lace curtains of Michael Hanlon's bedroom. They rustled in the persistent spring breeze, displaying the scars of a losing battle against moths some years ago. He rose slowly and looked over his shoulder to his calendar. There in bulky, red lettering he saw that at Christmas when he had happily written down any and all important dates on it he had included this one '13TH BIRTHDAY' it read proudly in writing almost too big for the box.

With that, he got up, having little by way of sleep the previous night due to his unshakable excitement as this birthday was one that for the first time, would be spent with friends. Real friends. Friends that he had presumably fought and killed a monster with; the sort of folks you wanted to sick by you, y'know? Mike barreled down the stairs and found his parents on either side of their dining table guarding a small stack of presents wrapped neatly in brown paper. He smiled, a great wide beaming grin as he opened the presents diligently, admiring each one as its contents were revealed.

After scarfing down his birthday breakfast of smiley face pancakes, Mike zipped back upstairs to put on one of his new shirts, some old (stainless) jeans and his new sneakers which hit the dirt within 5 minutes of them being on his feet as he set out in search of his friends. Unfortunately, they were pretty hard to find. He chalked it up to it only being early in the day despite the time actually settling somewhere near noon. He had a good scour for them, going to each individual's house before then trying their usual hang out spots: library? not a soul, barrens? some little second graders but certainly not his friends, quarry? he took one glance at belch's trans am and turned on his pristine heel to sprint aimlessly in the other direction. A birthday party in the emergency room didn't sound so sweet. Their clubhouse was locked down by their newly installed, perfectly camouflaged bike chain when he got to it, and Ben was the keeper of the keys, so he knew they weren't there. Only remnants of days spent there, like a bouquet of cigarette dog ends left by Beverly.

Dejected, he trudged back home, fully convinced that his friends had forgotten about him on his big day, regrettably dragging his feet through the loose dust that ornamented the Hanlon's driveway and adjacent country path. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the downstairs curtains were closed, something not uncommon as his mother liked to nap on the couch during the day, when she was able. Mike unlocked the door with his house key, adorned with an array of key-rings. Some bought, some clearly stolen and some won at the local arcade. They made a metallic jingle as he turned the key in the loch and let himself back in the house. Pitch black invaded his eyes as he realised the house was abnormally dark for this time of day. Had he been more alert he would have noticed the faint, whispered voices each urging each other to stay quiet.

Mike slipped his new shoes of and fumbled to put them on the shoe rack, this struggle prompted less of a fumble towards the lightswitch. He flipped it on and bright fluorescent light dripped out of the bulb, shimmering on his skin. Before he had any time to register what was happening, a loud roar of "SURPRISE!!!!" filled his ears and he saw in front of him all his friends, each adorned in plenty of party memorabilia. Each of them had brought him a present, wrapped to varying levels of success. "We've been crouched in this here hallway for about three hours now young man y'hear! Don't you go playing detective ever again!" Richie howled, doing a terrible southern accent "Beep beep Richie" was Mike's awestruck response, soon encompassed in a sea of tweens, hugging real tight.

"You should blow out your candles" Bev hummed, gesturing to the cake that Stan was holding "Y-yeah M-muh-Mike, youre getting wuh-ax on it" Bill hummed, giving him a light grin that was quickly reciprocated by Mike who blew out his candles in an instant, more than happy "Did you make your wish?" Ben hummed, moving his hair out of his face. Mike nodde "Yeah I wished fo-" "No no no! Bad luck!" Eddie wailed, clapping a hand over Mike's mouth to stop him "It won't come true of you tell us" Stan clarified

'Well...' thought Mike Hanlon 'I wished that you losers might stick around a while, if you must know'

[austarus]

Timeless!Harrison Wells x Reader - White King, Black Queen

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2267

You narrowed your eyes as the city continued to bustle, noise from people and cars emitted in the air. Clouds hung sparsely over Central City as the waning moon took the place of the sun high in the sky. The wind blew a light breeze through your hair. You kicked a leg back and forth gently as you sat on the edge of the STAR Labs tower wings. Your other leg was bent close to your body, an arm resting over your knee. The height didn’t scare you so much as it used to. In fact, you didn’t mind being so close to the edge anymore. If you fell, then you fell. Truth be told, your powers would save you whether you willed it to or not. Some would say it’s a curse, others not so much. Your umbrakinesis acted like a defense mechanism at those times. A sigh left your lips as you straightened up your back, cracking it. Relief echoed through your body, but your heart felt heavy. Time is ticking... You knew what was happening downstairs, Gideon had alerted you when someone entered the Time Vault. It wouldn’t be completely wrong to say that you didn’t want to face him – couldn’t get attached since he’d been here. Not again. Staying up here was your way of avoiding that problem until… Until what, though?

The hair at the back of your neck stood up, a chill ran down your spine as your shadows alerted you of a presence a distance behind you. Turning your head slightly, you sent an icy look to the one person you dreaded to see. The face of the man you had seen pass one too many times. Their looks from their final moments imprinted in your mind for this one to come back. He was the last thing you had of them.

Harrison Wells.

A small smile was on his face, his hair tousled with his clear-framed glasses perched on his nose. He knew you’d be up here. The others told him you’d been up here since his reincarnation into the world. Since he’d made contact with Team Flash to help them and explain his predicament of currently living. But really, Harrison would have known if no one had told him. He had sensed it. Seen it – the images flickered past in his brain. The other versions of himself with you up here – the foreign familiarness that he personally did not experience.

But nothing more than a dreadful reminder of what’s past.

“I’ve come to say good-bye,” the genius started in a soft voice, wanting to approach you carefully. Your glare bothered him, yet he knows it shouldn’t, for once Harrison leaves, he will be united with Tess, the love of his life. Over and over and over again.

You snorted, turning your gaze to the stars that twinkled away from the clouds. You could see the constellations of Cassiopeia, winking brightly light-years away. “Such a shame, you could have helped them with Godspeed.” A bitter laugh left your lips as you recalled Nash showing you how to recognize the constellations and where to navigate from there. Sherloque would drink his tea up here with you and converse about his cases. HR would read to you his latest ideas and novels while you gave your input. You would drag Harry out of his lab to get some fresh air. And Eobard… he was the one who showed you this view, before Barry had woken up, before the Particle Accelerator had gone online.

“Team Flash is more than capable of handling threats on their own.”

“I take it you think that having a Wells must be a handicap, hm?”

“I never said that.”

“Hmph.”

“I couldn’t leave without telling you good-bye.” You pressed your lips thinly and Harrison continued, pocketing his hands in his dark coat. “It didn’t feel right to go without saying that.”  The night was getting colder, yet you remained out here in a thin jacket. Dare he say, he worried a bit?  You turned to fully look at him from your seated position. “I… won’t deny the sentiment I feel towards you. The memories of the past Wells. Their thoughts – well, previous thoughts – and feelings are still here.” Harrison had gestured to his head then placed a hand on his heart. Bile rose at the back of your throat as the smiling images of the boys hit your mind. You bit your lip hard as he spoke, “Each one of them felt strongly for you, but I’m not them. They’d want you to move on. To live-”

“No!” Your patience snapped, standing up rapidly with expert footing. Shadows went rampant in the night, wind howling in his ears. “You don’t get to say that!” Darkness immediately consumed the atmosphere and air around you both. Unbridled anger licked up in your heart and soul as you took heavy steps towards him. Harrison couldn’t see, but he could feel the moving darkness as he stood his ground. “You have no right to act all high and mighty towards me.” A hiss left his lips as a dark particle lashed at his arm, burning through his coat and marring his skin just as he heard your anger burn in your next words. “You don’t understand the strings that fate has chained me with! Nor will you ever understand my burden.”

***Flashback***

“What is it that you want?” You glared at the entity. The Monitor had appeared in your kitchen as you were pouring yourself some alcohol to enjoy your quiet night. You had taken some time away from all the heroes and villains running around.

“I came because I require your assistance for the Crisis.”

“Pass, I’m not in the mood to play the hero.”

“The point is not to be a hero or the villain, but to honor fate’s will.”

“Well fate can go hump a stump for all I care,” you sipped on your choice of alcohol, you turned away from the eternal entity only to find him in front of you right as you had exited your kitchen. A deep frown crossed your features. This is such a drag.

“Fate has bound your life to Harrison Wells the moment you first met him years ago.”

“False, that was Eobard masquerading as Wells. So, technically no.”

“That technicality may be so, but fate saw the speedster as your gateway to the rest of them. Without Thawne you would not have been so tied to Harrison Wells’ existence.” Rolling your eyes, you took another sip, already knowing you’d need a couple of glasses to forget about this interaction. “Your life is bound to his. To them.” The Monitor had you right where he wanted you, pushing images into your mind to allow you to see reason. “You were a lover.” You flinched as the image of Eobard appeared in your mind. “A partner.” Harry. “A friend.” HR. “And a confidante.” Sherloque. “Now this one needs you as well, he is in danger of himself with the Anti-monitor. My opposite entity.” You knew he was referring to Nash, the multiverse explorer with the haughty attitude and snarky comments.

“…”

“You are the anomaly that exists in the multiverse, there is no other in your position.” The entity saw the hesitation flicker in your being. “The time has come for you to be his protector.”

***Time Skip***

Nash panted, on the ground of this desolate land on his hands and knees. His mouth felt dry, tasting iron in his mouth from the blood on his split lip. How much longer can he endure this? The Anti-monitor continued to laugh at him, to mock him, for his weakness. Pariah gripped hard at the dirty snow, blood and mud defiled the pure whiteness. He couldn’t get back up. His body ached. No matter how hard Nash tried to push back, the Anti-monitor was too strong for him even with these temporary powers.

“Humans are such fickle beings,” the anti-entity spoke in a grand manner, “Soon the multiverse will be mine and there shall be no flaws. No humans to corrupt my domain.” The eternal being gathered his divine power into the palm of his hand and fired anti-matter at his appointed Pariah. The one to bear witness of the end of the multiverse. His curse.

Nash shut his eyes; this was the end. This was his end. A breath left him, what he expected to be his final breath. But the final blow never came. Ringing greeted Nash’s ears as he opened his eyes. Standing in front of him, shielding his body was you and your dark powers. For whatever reason it withstood the anti-matter as particles clashed against one another. You stood defiantly and gracefully in your fighting positions, conjuring your dark spectacles from every shaded corner.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking monster.” You growled, your hands working magnificently to bind the Anti-monitor down. Once bound your umbra became spears and swords that pierced through the entity. While it could not kill the Anti-monitor, it slowed him down – meaning it would slow down his assault on Nash. You needed to get him to safety, needed him to have enough strength to teleport you two away from this dimension. And that’s exactly what you convinced him to do when you grabbed him, hugging his injured body to yourself as he fought to stay conscious.

***End Flashback***

“You don’t understand what loss truly is! You don’t get how hard it is to move on from this.” Just as you had moved, so had Harrison. A dagger of darkness at his throat, clenching the front of his cloak as he held a dagger of light to your own throat. Harrison  gritted his teeth as he used his powers to light up the area in his green light. “This pain, the misery of losing over and over and over again. To bear the burden of fate’s strings only to watch them all fall.” He flinched at how the veins around your eyes had darkened to a charcoal color. His throat dried as fear hit him. Harry’s memory flashed into his mind – the memory of you in this state, accidentally killing a meta in self-defense. “You’re just a selfish man, running away from what’s in front of him.” Harrison’s light battled against your darkness to keep the physical manifestations of umbra away from harming his body. “I despise people like that.”

“I’m only doing what’s best for me.”

“By what, Harrison? Running to the past? What’s in the past is best left in the past, those who hold on to the past don’t appreciate the present.”

“Such hypocritical words coming from someone who sulks around up here for what once was.”

“You don’t fucking know anything about me. All you have are some second-hand memories, but you don’t truly know me and what I’ve been through. You’re just like Barry.”

“And you’re any different?”

“At least I know the difference between reality and a desperate dream.”

“…” He knew Tess is doomed to die for time to flow, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cherish every second with her until it was time. Maybe he was a desperate man chasing after a desperate dream, but he would until the bitter end. For Tess.

“A Time Loop is just a miserable notion for you to see Tess when her destiny is already a fixed time point. Just like Barry’s mother. Their deaths are absolute. Even with your Timeless powers you can’t interfere with what’s set in place.”

“That may be so, but I’ve fulfilled my part here – at least I have someone to return home to, even if they are doomed to die. I could be by her side over and over again.”

Harrison’s words pierced your heart, you pushed the tears back. The ache in your heart throbbed at a greater rate. At least… he had the power to return to his someone… The genius saw the haunting dejection in your eyes, the way your shoulders quivered as you tried to keep yourself together. He regretted the words that left his mouth…

“Do as you please,” you whispered, loosening your grip on his jacket to let him go. The darkness dissipated as you walked back to your perch with pocketed hands. “I’m done begging…” You mumbled to yourself so quietly that he didn’t catch your last statement. A tear left your eyes as you stood tall where you once sat.

“Good-bye,” Harrison murmured to the wind drifting in your direction before turning and leaving. A part of him felt torn by the things he had spat at you. What’s done is done. I doubt I’ll be back here any time soon. Clenching and unclenching his hand, Harrison shut his eyes and summoned his powers to pass through time. Tess, I’m coming home.

“Good-bye, Harrison.” Another tear fell, this time you wiped it as the night continued. He was gone. They were gone. You were alone, once again spectacularly alone and cold.

The pieces are all in place. The time has come…

Time still ticked as seconds went bye. A voice whispered at the back of your mind; the presence residing there since his exorcism. The one that kept you company through all this.

“It’s time, my queen.”

Checkmate

[oingo233]

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

[misamccn]

linked - killua zoldyck. 

pairing: killua zoldyck x female reader

chapter word count: 2182

content warnings: violence, blood, child abuse, trauma, anxiety, death, abusive parents. 

summary: soulmate au - seventeen year-old (y/n) has never been free. after 9 years of being locked away with her father who uses her for her nen ability, (y/n) escapes and is on the run. she has big plans to become a hunter and see the world...until she meets her soulmate killua and his friends after discovering that her father is after her and wants to take her back. will she escape her father with the help of killua, gon, and alluka? will she bond with killua, or will they sever their link? 

:: prologue - running to the starting line

You craved control.

For all of your life, you never got to experience any kind of control, except when you were a little girl. Your mom would let you choose things for yourself. Like when you wanted to train, what you wanted to eat, and who you wanted to play with. But one day, she dropped you off to your father's house and she was gone. Murdered in cold blood that same night. Your light, happiness, and control died with her that day too. Gone in an instant. You would never choose another thing for yourself from that moment forward.

Until now.

Your feet, clad in thick black leather combat shoes worn with dirt and time, slapped against the wet pavement as you ran to the bus station. You roughly rubbed your hands against your tear-stained eyes. How could I be so stupid, you thought to yourself as your heart pounded in agony against your chest.

He really fooled you good, didn't he? For a second there, you felt safe. Like someone actually cared and didn't want you for your power.

Giichi...you bastard.

You clenched your fists angrily as you wiped the tears from your eyes. No more tears, I have to keep going or else dad will find me and I'll end up back in that cell.

After your mom died, your dad took you in and decided to make you use your gift as a payment for him taking you in. He took you underground in his base. There were no windows, no light, no color. It was dull and empty. The only things in your cell were a mat with a blanket, a toilet, and chains on the wall that were used to restrain you when you failed him and needed to be punished. You spent nine painful years down there. You spent your time healing your father's gang members and guards when they came back from a fight. The worst nights were the nights where a lot of them got hurt. Healing that many of them at once would almost kill you at some times, but your father never let you stop. He never let you have a break. The pain of it all left you breathless.

You were his tool and your purpose was to fix the people that were destroyed for him and his money.

The most painful part of it all though was probably the loneliness of it all. You didn't get to have any friends, and the only person your age that you knew was this boy that you met on an island a long time ago.

There was also your soulmate, of course.

He was always there, never fully in focus, but lingering in your thoughts. His emotions and feelings often filled your mind when they were strong. You didn't know his name, or what he looked like, but you knew him. Even if it was just a little bit.

You first felt him there the night your mom died.

The thunder and rain pattering against your window drowned out the sound of your sobs as you lay in bed awake that night. You had never felt so alone before. Not only was your mother gone, but her whole clan was gone. The people that she loved so much, and the people that you were just getting to know. Your small hand grasped your pillow tightly as a sob ripped its way through your throat when all of a sudden, you felt it. It was small, but nonetheless present. A soft, unfamiliar warmth lingered in the corner of your mind, almost like it was a little bit timid. It soothed her, suddenly she didn't feel so alone.

"I'm sorry," it seemed to say.

With tears still streaming down your cheeks and your eyes wide open, you whispered back, "Thank you."

There were multiple other occasions that you felt him there.

After your father smacked you around a few times for not healing fast enough, or not giving the results he wanted, you'd feel that same warmth.

When you were on the brink of death after healing too many terrible wounds at once, you felt his panic in the corner of your mind.

Sometimes, you could feel a deep loneliness in his mind. Sometimes you could feel he was in physical pain, just like you.

Was it possible that he was going through something similar?

You often wondered if he felt the lack of control that you did.

You knew that you would be destined to meet one day. When and where you didn't really know. You haven't found him yet because his first words to you were still written across your collarbone and you had yet to hear them out loud.

You were in no rush to find your soulmate though, you still had plenty of things you wanted to do. So many places to explore. So much life to live and take back. You were in no rush to settle down with a partner that you had no control over choosing, especially since you just freed yourself.

You ran away from your father's house about 3 months ago. There was a big raid. Enemies of your father had never broken into his base before, and you knew it was likely that it wouldn't happen again soon. So when the locks on your cell were unlocked due to the damage that was happening to the base, you took the opportunity and ran. You took your katana from your father's storage unit on the way out and bolted.

After running for a while, you found a small city. It was called Junipo City. The population was small and the poverty level was high. You were homeless for a while. You slept in an ally way behind the city's supermarket, and that's where he found you. Giichi.

When you first saw Giichi, you thought that he was very handsome. Just looking at his slick back black hair and green eyes made your heart do a little jump in your chest. However, it was his smile that pulled you in. There was something so friendly, so inviting about it. How naive you were then...

He acquainted himself with you and started dropping off food to you for about two weeks. After those two weeks, he convinced you to stay with him in a shelter that he lived in and worked in. He gave you your first set of new clothes in nine years, a place to sleep and food to eat. He took care of you, and for the first time since you escaped, you felt like maybe you didn't have to do things alone.

For the next two months, things were perfect. Giichi showed you all over town during the day. At night, he would bring you hot chocolate before you went to bed. You loved watching him play with all of the other kids and talk with the elderly at the shelter. Sometimes, late at night, you found the courage to confide in him. You told him about your past and all of your fears. Your heart began to flutter madly in your chest whenever he walked into the room. You thought that maybe, everything would be okay, maybe he even liked you too...

But after everything that happened tonight, you found yourself back in square one, alone again.

He had asked you if you had any career plans for the future.

"Hmm," you thought as your feet swung back and forth over the side of your cot, "I was thinking that maybe I could become a Hunter. I'm hoping to take the next exam. I think that my experience with nen and my katana gives me a good chance of passing the exam," you replied sheepishly.

"The next exam?" Giichi asked sorrowfully.

"Yeah," you smiled, "is there something wrong?"

Giichi smiled and shook his head, taking his seat on his cot across from yours.

"There's nothing wrong with that, of course. I'm really happy for you. It's just that...I'm really sad to see you go so soon. The Hunter exam is next week after all."

He looked back up at you. His sorrowful sage meeting your (y/e/c) ones. There was something in his look that made your heart soar...

"Giichi, I-"

He leaned in closer to you from his cot and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Almost immediately you felt heat rise to your cheeks. He's so close...

"(Y/N)...I was going to wait to tell you this, but since you're leaving I have no choice but to tell you now," a mischievous smile found its way onto his face, "I really like you, (y/n). I have since the moment I met you. You're beautiful and strong. It really makes me sad that you're leaving before we had the chance to become something more than friends..."

Something more than friends? You had never thought about being more than friends with someone other than your soulmate...and even when you did think about that you figured that would be happening way down the line. Right now, you're free and you're allowed to finally make choices for yourself.

The first words of your soulmate burned angrily against the skin of your collarbone.

Could you pursue this, soulmate aside? No...no you couldn't. You were going to become a Hunter. You were going to make money and explore the world. Maybe along the way, you'd meet people and you'd get to finally use your power safely for people you care about...For now, though, you didn't have room for a relationship, despite what you felt for Giichi.

"Giich-"

Before you could tell him how you felt, he placed his hands on your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You were completely frozen. Your eyes wide open in shock and your heart pounding against your chest. This was your first kiss. Before you could even process that thought it was over, and your soulmate mark was on fire.

He was there, lingering dejectedly in the corner of your mind. Feelings of jealousy, betrayal, and finally something passive washed over him in your head. And then he was gone. He shut himself out almost faster than your kiss.

Giichi pulled away from you, "After you get your Hunter license, will you come here and show me?"

You nodded your head slowly, your fingers playing with your tingling lips, "S-Sure."

He smirked and patted your head before walking away, "Get some sleep, (y/n). Goodnight."

Sleeping was the last thing you did. You laid awake in your cot, your soulmate mark throbbing against your collarbone. After about an hour of tossing and turning, you decided to get up and get some water, walking on your tiptoes to avoid waking the other sleeping children in the cots around you.

You were almost to the kitchen when you heard Giichi talking on the phone in his office.

"...uh-huh, yeah...She should be back from her Hunter Exam in two weeks, I'm guessing... Yeah...You can pay me and take her at the same time I guess, no need to make two trips... trust me, she'll definitely be back..."

You rocked on your feet outside of his office, almost losing your balance at the same time. He tried to trick you...he tried to gain your trust and sell you...To who though? Your father? A third party that knew about your power? That didn't matter, right now you had to get away and lay low.

You ran back to your cot and took the few things that you owned. You pulled on your black hoodie and pulled the strap of your Katana case over your chest and let your katana rest on your back. From there, you crept out of the back doors and ran into the night.

Your feet slowed to a stop as you reached the bus stop. A bus was there loading passengers so you immersed yourself into the line, pulling your hoodie over your face.

You took a seat alone at the back of the bus, the rain pattering angrily against the window and the wind rattling the bus.

You can do this alone, (y/n). Don't be afraid, you have to lay low for a little while.

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes. Regret weighed heavily on your heart and you tried to push these thoughts to your soulmate but you were met with silence.

The intercom on the bus buzzed to life, "Next stop: Yorknew City."

[reidswritings]

I’ll Fight For You

authors note; uhhh happy new year! this is just a little something i wrote when i was feeling sad and wishing i had a spencer. i am in NO WAY trying to romanticize depression lol also this is kinda based on the song moonlight by future islands (this isnt edited so if you saw a mistake, no you didnt)

word count; 2.5k

warnings; depression and anxiety

Heavy. So, so heavy. That’s how she felt. She felt like the whole world had its ties on her and they were dragging her down, down, down. It felt like the darkness had finally caught up with her. She felt as though she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was all too much— too much of an effort, too much of a task, too much to even get her body to sit up. 

She had been fine the night before— that’s what she was trying to convince herself. 

She hadn’t been.

No, instead she had been declining and everyone who knew her could see it. They could see it on her face, they could see it when her usually contagious smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. They saw it in the way she apologized one too many times. They saw it in the way she constantly zoned out. They saw it get worse and worse and worse every day. 

Bit by bit they watched as the disease clawed its way from the depths of whatever cave it lived in and did its very best to drag her back down into the darkness with it. 

They saw it all. They were just too polite to say anything. Too polite, too uncaring, too preoccupied. Too whatever. A part of her wished they hadn’t been too whatever. A part of her wished they cared enough to reach out. 

Though, she thought, maybe it was a good thing they hadn’t. Maybe it was a good thing they let her be. Maybe it was a good thing— it gave her the opportunity to get over whatever this was by herself, in peace. 

The Tired Girl wasn’t kidding anyone. They all knew what this was. This wasn’t some funk she’d get over. This wasn’t just a bad day. This was just her life. This was just how she had to live. This was her condition rearing its ugly head—her depression. It always happened to her at the worst times. It happened when she first fell in love. It happened when everything was going well at work. It happened when nothing was wrong in her life. It happened when her life was absolute shit. It always happened when she least expected it. 

It just always happened.

Beside her, she felt the comforter pull. It pulled away from under her chin, letting in the cold air. Letting in the bad thoughts. Letting in the intrusive thoughts. Letting in everything she desperately wanted to keep out. She felt him move from the bed, his hand patting her back. He leaned down, fingers tangling themselves in her knotted hair, kissing her head so softly she wanted to cry. She heard him grunt as he stood, bones cracking alongside the stretch he gave— she listened as he did the same thing he did every single morning. 

She heard him gulp down the glass of water from the night prior, she heard him walk into the bathroom connected to their room and she heard him hum to himself as he started his day. She listened as he twisted open the cap to his contacts, then his glasses case. She heard him opened the face wash and then the toothpaste. She heard it all, stuck in the bed like she was chained to it. Stuck in the bed like she was prisoner to it. 

She heard him do all these things and once again, like clockwork, she began to feel her body seize up. She felt her blood boil, she felt herself become so angry she could hardly stand it. 

She wished she could move. She wished she could get up to be with him. She wished she could partake in their morning kiss. She wished they could laugh together in the bathroom mirror, toothbrushes in hand and toothpaste falling down their lips and chins. She wished she could share a cup of coffee with him. She wished and wished and wished. She wished she wasn’t so angry at the world, at herself, at everything. 

Oh, how she wished she could just be there. 

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time wasn’t relevant to her anymore. Her unfocused eyes were watching the curtains. They were pulled closed, dark and depressing— much like herself. She remembered when they bought the stupid drapes. 

The had bought the blackout ones, hopeful not to be woken up by the sun raising. She liked it at the time, she thought it was a good idea. . . at the time. Now, the goddamn curtains were hurting her soul. She wanted to pull them open. She just had no energy. She just couldn’t move.

So, she sat, staring blankly at the god awful blackout curtains. Until he blocked her view. Her eyes focused, meeting the beautiful hazel eyes she fell in love with. His mouth was moving but her ears hadn’t caught up yet. She could tell that he was sighing, defeated. She blinked, unmoving. She felt bad, she felt so fucking horrible. She felt horrible for her, for him, for everything. Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to move— to make it better. To fix things. 

She watched his hand reach out, slowly, settling on her covered arm. She could feel the warmth through her shirt and that made things a little better. Not much, but when you’re that sick, anything helped. No matter how big or small. 

She wanted to smile, thank him for being there for her. She wanted to kiss him like her life depended on it. She wanted to give him all the things he deserved— but still, she was unmoving, frozen.

Everything hit her at once, she could throw up. She could cry, she could scream, she could throw a fucking fit. She wanted to be left alone, she couldn’t handle anything. He was talking, she was catching the tail end of it. “—ou alright?”

Thick with sleep, with sadness, with morning haziness, her voice was loud, “Huh?’’

He spoke again, “I said, are you alright?” She could feel his thumb rubbing against her arm and it hurt. It hurt. Everything hurt. She shook her head, eyes closing again. She felt her face scrunch up, in annoyance, in pain, in sadness, in everything she wished she wasn’t. 

He moved his hand, the one that was just too soft, to her cheek. She wished it was soothing, she wished she could lean into his touch. The Worried Boy nodded, “Okay, okay. What can I do? How can I help?’’

The girl shrugged. She was sighing, heavy, it carrying everything that she had bottled up the past weeks. She knew what she needed, but she was too afraid to ask. Too afraid to voice her thought, too afraid she’d be too much. Too afraid that this would be the one thing that he deemed to be too much. 

He pulled the blanket back up to her chin, hands hovering. His mind was moving a mile a minute, trying, thinking of anything that might help his Pretty Girl. Her mind was creating lies, telling her that she was worthless, that he hated her, that she was nothing. 

It was a whirlwind— her mind. She willed it to stop, unsuccessfully, she curled further into her dark position. She felt his hands leave her, finally. A breath of fresh air rushed through her lungs, comfort and calm filling her veins. She could finally breathe— until she couldn't again. Her mind began again, throwing the nasty at her. It told her he didn't love her, it told her he didn't want to touch her. It told her she was too much. It told her all the things she didn't want to hear. 

It told her all the things he tried too hard to make her forget on the good days. 

"Hey." his voice cut through the fog, loud and strong. It was her light at the end of her dark tunnel, "Stop that."

He let out a breath, it fanned on her face, she welcomed the heat that followed. “I’m sorry.”

He was shaking his head, sad and feeling all the feelings for her. He wished away her bad thoughts, he wanted her to return to the usually bubbly girl she was. 

 Her world was suddenly shifting again and her mind becoming no less clouded, heavy as ever. The boy who she loved with her entire being, pulled her arms to her chest, sliding in bed behind her. His lips were moving against her ear, words brushing her skin. 

Her ears were picking up on the sweet nothings her pretty boy was murmuring, but her mind was on a different path. Her mind was fogged. It was like she was watching, listening, through a fogged up piece of glass. 

She could feel his arms on her body, it was comforting. And before she knew what was happening to her, her mind was swirling again. It was sharp. She found her voice, strong in the disappointment that was her illness. “Spence— Spencer, I-I.”

She stopped, depression kicking her in the ass. Spencer’s voice was louder. “Don’t, don’t stop. Keep going, push through, Y/N/N.”

“I’m so tired. I feel like. . . everything is just so hard right now, Spence.”

He sighed, she did too, eyes heavy and lethargic. She was so fucking tired, she felt like she could pass out any second. She felt like she hadn’t slept in ages. Her head fell back on to his shoulder, his hands bursting away the knotted hair away. If she wasn’t in this funk, she knew her heart would’ve skipped a beat at the simple gesture. Breath heavy on her lungs, on her body, on her mind and soul, she exhaled.

Her boy nodded, squeezing her just a little extra. “That’s it. Let it out.”

His hands were moving again, brushing against her cheeks. He was wiping, lingering. Her eyes caught his hand when he finally took it away, it was wet, glistening in the small amount of light that illuminated the two. 

“I’m sorry. . .” The broken girl breathed. She wasn’t sure why she did so. All she knew was that it was second nature. Saying those words was up there with the need to breathe, pressing and dire. 

“. . .Why?” It was just as quiet as her cries— the ones that she barely had a clue were happening. 

Despite the ignorance, she cried harder, eyes and face scrunched up tighter than Spencer had ever seen. Her breath had caught, faster than they both wanted. Her heart seized up, sad and lonely— despite the pretty boy beside her. She wanted to be anywhere other than where she was. She was tired— tired of feeling the way she did. Tired of feeling like she wasn’t enough for him. Tired of feeling like she was more a burden than a blessing. She was just so, so fucking tired. 

She knew she could talk to him. She knew that. Of course she did, it was Spencer— she could tell him anything and he’d never, ever, in a millions years, judge her or make her feel like less for having her own thoughts and opinions.

So, it was usually easy to talk to him. It was easy because she loved him. She loved the way he responded, she love the way he would light up every time she sat him down and told him everything. It was easy because he would get this look on his face that she rarely ever saw. He would get this look that she loved more than anything in the whole world. More than chocolate, more than her favorite movie, more than her friends, more than everything. 

Y/N’s most favorite thing in the whole world was the look that crossed his beauty whenever she talked to him. When it happened, it was like the whole world had stopped. To, Spencer, it was like everything in his world had become. . . secondary. Like, nothing else mattered to the pale boy except the words that were leaving his pretty girl. His eyes would grow all wide and innocent and it warmed Y/N’s heart every damn time. 

She quickly learned that to see her favorite look, she had to talk. To him. About everything. Even the ugly. Even her deepest darkest secrets. And she did, quite often too. So, when the broken girl cried out in-between sobs and choppy breathes a very heart-wrenching, “I don’t know!” Spencer knew something was amiss. 

His hands were back in her hair, pulling it away from her eyes, her forehead, opening up the girl to the light he so desperately wanted to share with her. “Hey, just breathe.”

Cries still there, just not as present, she sat up. Looking at her boy through the blurry vision that were her tears, she said, “You don’t deserve this.”

He didn’t answer, he only raised his hand, to place on her shoulder, probably. She flinched away and hurt crossed his features before he placed his hand back down onto his own leg. She continued, head shaking, “You know that, don’t you? You deserve someone who can get up with you in the morning. You should have someone who doesn’t wallow in their own pity and despair. You deserve more than me, Spence.”

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N.” His voice had a bite of sadness to it. Y/N could tell. His eyes were far away, though maintaining eye contact. 

“Understand?” Her breath stilled finally. She was perplexed with her beautiful boy. An action that happened quite often. 

His beautiful eyes returned, he shook his head slightly. His mouth turned up at the side and he let out the smallest of chuckles. “Y/N, I-I— You mean everything to me.”

The boy cleared his throat, probably to flush away the tears that threatened to show through his voice. Then he continued, looking at his pretty girl. “I will tell you until the end of time. I’ll tell you until it gets through that thick skull of yours.” He chuckled at that, a finger tapping against her temple. 

“Spencer, I’m just so, so tired. Tired of everything.”

Her boy sighed, sad again. “ We fight for each other. You fought to clear my name, you fought to get me clean. . . again. We fight for each other, Y/N/N. And right now, I’m asking for you to make the choice to stay, because I cant do this without you, Y/N. I’m gonna fight for you. I’ll fight for you, until I don’t have to anymore.”

And for once, 

For once,

For once, she realized, she wasn’t quite as alone as she had thought. She wasn’t the only one that experience this kind of sadness. She realized that her once small, dark world was no longer small and dark. 

Not with Spencer Reid pulling her through the dark, never ending tunnel. Now, she wasn’t cured, not by any means, of course. But, it hurt just a little less knowing he was right there with her. 

Knowing he was her light in the dark storm of life. And that was all she needed. 

[hockey-fics]

When We’re 25 ~ Nathan MacKinnon 

Summary: Twenty-five seemed so old for two eleven year olds sitting on the grassy field behind their school. Who would have thought promises made 14 years ago could change everything?

Word Count: ~4,000

Warnings: None

Video Source of Gif

A/N: Unedited and based a lot in the past so I tried to put together an accurate timeline but please forgive me if I didn’t get years quite right. 

Nathan MacKinnon. People always asked about your relationship with him. People always had. Because you were inseparable from the day you met. It was when you were eight years old and your third grade teacher put him beside you while completing her seating plan for the year when you first met. 

A few days later Nate invited you to come play soccer during recess. You spent all of five minutes playing soccer with the boys before heading off to the edge of the soccer field, picking a handful of wildflowers. You gave them to Nathan while walking back into the school after the bell rang and they stayed in his desk until they were shrivelled up and dead. 

You started going to each others houses after school and on weekends. His parents and your parents grew closer through the frequent trips to each other’s houses dropping off or picking one of you up. 

In grade four you weren’t in the same class as Nate and you cried the morning of your first day back at school. But still you still saw each other at every recess and lunch break. He would occasionally swap out playing soccer to spend the break with you. Other times you would drag your friends up to the soccer field to hang out on the sidelines, simply to be near him. 

It started early, the teasing from your friends. They would giggle and talk about how they were certain you two ‘like liked’ each other. Your parents made occasional comments too. Comments that would make your cheeks burn and turn a dark shade of red. Through everything you had always denied liking Nathan. 

When you were eleven years old your older cousin was getting married and your family took a trip across the country for the wedding. When you got back to school you were bombarded with questions from your friends about the trip. You talked about how magical it all was, gushing about the dress, the cake, the dancing, and in true childhood fashion, that the hotel you stayed in had a pool. Jeremy, a boy in your class, was sitting nearby, listening in on the conversation. “Too bad nobody will every want to marry you,” Jeremy muttered when you had finished talking. 

“Jeremy, you’re so mean,” your best friend had defended quickly.

“it’s just the truth,” he had replied matter-of-factly. 

You tried your best not to let Jeremy’s comment hurt your feelings. But the tears that welled up in your eyes betrayed you and before anyone had the chance to say anything else you were on your feet and fleeing to the closest bathroom so nobody could see your emotions. 

You were in the bathroom for awhile before your friend came in, coaxing you out of the bathroom stall. “Nate punched him,” she had said, so simply, as if it didn’t mean anything. 

You were shocked when she told you, scared about the trouble he was going to get into. And he did get into trouble, a week of missed recess breaks. 

You sat outside on the grassy hill behind the school with Nathan that day after school. 

“Sorry you got in trouble,” you told him. 

“He upset you.”

“You shouldn’t have hit him.”

“He shouldn’t have been mean to you.”

You had looked over at Nate and knew in that moment that he didn’t even know why he punched Jeremy, didn’t know what Jeremy had even said, just that he had made you cry. “He told me nobody would ever want to marry me.”

“He’s wrong.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’d marry you,” Nathan had told you so simply that it made you giggle even at that age. 

“We’re too young,” you had replied, as if that was the only reason you two couldn’t get married. 

“When we’re older then.”

“You’re going to marry me when we’re older?”

Nathan nodded, pulling a tiny wild daisy from the ground and handing it to you. “If we aren’t already married to other people.”

“When?” You asked him, twirling the flower between your fingers. 

Nate contemplated the answer for awhile before saying anything. “Twenty-five?”

Twenty-five had seemed so far from that day. You were only eleven and you thought you would have it all figured out by the time you were 25. “Okay,” you had told him. 

The two years Nathan had spent playing hockey in Minnesota were incredibly difficult for you. You were 12 and going through so many changes in your life. The only thing you really wanted was to have your best friend around. 

When you were both 14 and Nathan had moved back from Minnesota to play in Halifax you went back to being practically inseparable. You went to as many of his games as possible. Even when you both had homework to do you insisted on being together, working quietly on separate assignments till it devolved into talking and laughing. Any opportunity to hang out together you would take it. 

When you were 16 you managed to convince Nate to come to a house party with you. One of the kids in your class had been left alone for the weekend which inevitably meant he was going to throw a party. Nate spent most of the night sipping coca-cola while you consumed jungle juice and cheap beer. 

Of course a game of truth or dare was suggested that night because you were all high school students who had access to alcohol and an unsupervised home. The lack of seating in the house had left you sitting on Nathan’s lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, your back pressed into him. 

“Y/N,” Lexie said. “Truth or dare?”

You had immediately opted for a dare. You were a bad liar sober, you knew there was no way you could have lied convincingly if they asked something you didn’t want to admit. 

“I dare you to kiss Adam.”

Adam was a year older than you, intimidatingly cool and attractive to you at the time. You had just turned 16 and you were beginning to feel embarrassed about the fact that you hadn’t had your first kiss. But that was not how you wanted it to happen. You hadn’t realized how long you had sat there in surprise till you felt Nathan run his hand over your arm. He knew. He knew that you hadn’t had your first kiss before and he had detected your anxiety immediately. 

“She’s not doing that,” Nate had declared a moment later. 

“Why not?” Lexie questioned, eyes narrowed and voice annoyed. 

“Because we’re dating.”

You had tried to keep your composure in the face of such a bold lie. You remembered the looks your friends had given you, even they were uncertain whether it was a lie or not because of how believable it would have been. 

“You’re lying,” Lexie had challenged. 

“Why would I lie about that?” Nathan slid his hands down to your legs, tugging you sideways on his lap and bringing one of his hands to the side of your face, turning your head to look at him. “They’ll believe us if I kiss you,” Nathan whispers. 

You swallow heavily, staring into his eyes. You wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t think this was how you wanted it to happen. You could feel the eyes of everyone playing the game in the room and suddenly the attention felt like too much. “I want to go,” you whispered back. 

Nathan didn’t need to hear anything else. He placed his hands on your waist, quickly helping you up before standing up himself. “We’re going to go home,” Nate announced as you walked out with him, hearing a chorus of ‘oohs’ in regard to you two leaving together after that announcement. 

You walked back in the direction of your house in silence for awhile until you passed by a park and you grabbed Nate’s hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Lets go on the swings,” you suggested. 

The two of you sat on the swings and talked for awhile, not about what happened at the party at first. “I just want it over with,” you finally blurted out. 

“Want what over with?” 

You had looked over at Nathan, fingers grasping the chain of the swing so hard your knuckles had gone white. “My first kiss.”

“If we’re going to get married we may as well try kissing now,” Nathan had said, laughing as he did. You knew the part about getting married was a joke so you assumed the rest was as well, giggling softly. 

Nathan stood up and walked in front of you, his hands moving to yours, gently pulling them off the chains of the swing. “I’m serious.”

Slowly you stood up, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What if I’m bad at it?”

“You won’t be,” Nathan had assured you, one hand around your back as he pulled you closer. “Do you want to?”

You had simply nodded, as if you were physically unable to say yes. Nathan had kissed you that night. Your first kiss ever. Afterwards you didn’t say much as he walked you home, waiting till you were inside before going back to his own house. 

Neither of you talked about the kiss again. You told everyone afterwards that you didn’t work out in a relationship that you were still friends. But a year and a half later, when you were almost 18 you brought it up again.

“You know how you let me kiss you to get my first kiss out of the way?” You asked, sitting on your bed with your school work spread out in front of you. Nate had been sitting beside you with his math textbook and a messy sheet of equations in his lap. 

Nate had looked over at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Well I kissed you, but yeah. Why?”

“Would you do it again?”

“You can’t have your first kiss twice.”

“Not my first kiss….my first…time.”

Nathan had stared at you blankly for a few seconds, seemed skeptical, like you were tricking him into admitting something. “Yes,” he had finally told you. 

“Okay,” you had replied, slowly moving all your books off your bed. And Nathan did exactly what he said, taking your virginity that afternoon. And he was gentle and kind and everything you were hoping he would be. You trusted him with everything and you were glad you had trusted him with this too. Even though it happened only a few months before he was drafted into the NHL and then moved to Colorado. 

You stayed close when he moved. You texted and called and visited each other as much as you could. And you always remained determined that you were just friends. But you never felt the same connection you felt with him as you felt with anyone you had actually dated. You never felt as comfortable, as safe, as secure. 

Nathan had always done his absolute best to make sure he was there for your birthdays. There were a few years where he couldn’t make it work because of games. A couple of those years you decided to go to him, celebrating your birthday with a few friends in a hockey arena watching an Avs game before dragging Nathan out for drinks with everyone. 

This year he was particularly insistent about coming to visit for your birthday. It was your 25th and he was making it out to seem like a much bigger deal than you thought it was. It was just another day. 

He had come up the day before your birthday and the two of you spent every waking minute together. The day of your birthday you woke up to Nathan making you breakfast, coffee already brewed. 

“This is pretty impressive,” you said, shuffling tiredly into the kitchen and wrapping your arms around him, your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“It’s your birthday, you deserve everything.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Now sit down.”

Giggling you pull away from him, taking a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. “Ally said you guys made plans later but that I need to dress nice,” you comment, watching as Nathan flips a couple pancakes onto a plate. “Will you tell me what we’re doing?”

“No,” Nathan chuckles, setting the pancakes in front of you. 

Glaring at him you pick up your fork. “Fine, but will you at least come with me and help me pick out something suitable to wear tonight?”

“Sure,” Nathan chuckles, getting himself some breakfast and joining you to eat. 

Later that day you step out of a fitting room in a knee length red wrap dress, glancing in the mirror before looking at Nathan. “What do you think of this one?”

“You look incredible,” Nathan says, leaning forward in the chair he was sitting in. 

You glance over as one of the sales associates comes into the back, looking between you and Nathan for a minute. “Anniversary dinner?”

Laughing softly you shake your head. “My birthday.”

“Oh,” she says, smiling softly. “You two are just really cute.”

“We’re going to get married,” Nathan chuckles. 

“We’re not,” you tell the sales associate quickly, glancing at Nathan through the mirror. “He’s joking, we’re just friends.”

“Oh,” she comments again, grabbing a few dresses from a hanger before heading back into the store. 

“Nathan, what the hell?” You exclaim, giggling as you turn back around to look at him. “Is this the one?” You ask, gesturing to the dress and changing the topic. 

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

After changing back into your clothes you and Nathan take the dress to the front counter. When you notice Nathan pulling out his wallet you quickly push his hand away. “No,” you say quietly. 

“It’s your birthday,” he retorts, pulling a credit card out of his wallet. 

Rolling your eyes you give in, knowing you weren’t going to get out of letting him pay for it. Once you two leave the store you grab a coffee, spending the day doing nothing but hanging out with each other. And to be honest there wasn’t a single other thing you would have rather been doing. Whenever Nate was in town or you were in Denver it felt like a missing piece in your life was filled. 

It was many hours later before you were fully dressed and ready for the night, heading out with Nathan who insisted on driving because he refused to tell you where you were actually going. But it wasn’t long before you realized it was your favourite restaurant which you didn’t go to often because of the price and fact that you needed to make reservations weeks in advance if you wanted to be sure you could get in. 

Glancing over at Nate you smile softly, watching his eyes focused on the road in front of him. I love you. It wasn’t the first time you wanted to say it. In fact, you had even said it before. But it was always followed up by ‘you’re my best friend’ to take away from what it really meant. Nate looks over at you, catching you watching him. 

“What?” Nate asks, looking back out the window as he slows down and pulls into a spot near the front of the restaurant. 

“Nothing,” you tell him quietly, reaching over and unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he replies, quickly climbing out of the car. Your attention is caught by the speed with which Nate hops out of the car, hurrying around the front of it. 

You can’t help but giggle, watching as he gets to your side, pulling the door open. “Almost broke into a sprint there,” you tease, eyes widening as Nate grabs your hand to help you out of the car. “It’s my birthday, not my coronation.”

Nate chuckles, closing the door behind you once you were out of the car. “Anything for you.”

You glance down at your hands, Nate’s hand still locked with yours. But you don’t pull away, keeping the embrace as you two walk up to the restaurant and all the way to the table where a group of your friends were already waiting. 

“Happy birthday,” your best friend cheers, hopping up to wrap her arms around you. “You and Nate look cozy,” she whispers in her ear while her arms were around you. 

Laughing you shake your head, pulling away. “Just friends,” you remind her, for what felt like the millionth time. 

“Right,” she draws out, rolling her eyes with a playful smile. 

After a few more happy birthday hugs and hellos you sit down beside Nate. Chatter ensues around the table as drinks are ordered. Shortly after you have a glass of pinot noir in front of you and Nate has moved a little closer, his arm around the back of your chair.

The dinner goes by quicker than you would have liked. A few glasses of wine and a delicious dinner later your friends are handing over the gifts they had brought with them. After you had opened the gifts from your friends you notice Nate watching you closely, clutching a little box in his hand. 

“Happy birthday,” he whispers as he hands the box to you. 

Opening it slowly you look down at the gorgeous necklace in the box. You knew immediately that it cost more than all the other jewelry you owned combined and it was more than you could have ever asked for or anticipated. “Nathan,” you whisper, looking up at him. “Thank you so much…you didn’t have to.”

“Oh my god, put it on,” your friend comments, downing the rest of her martini. 

You slowly and carefully pull the necklace out of the box and Nate stands up, helping you put the necklace on without hesitation. “Happy twenty-fifth,” he whispers before sitting back down. 

As soon as the words leave his mouth it all comes back to you. 25. You look over at him, staring into his eyes to try and figure out if he knew the weight of 25 as well or if he was simply saying it because it was a fact, you were 25 now. But you know that he remembered too. 

You try to keep your focus on the moment, on the dinner and your friends. But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting the rest of the night. To Nate. To the necklace. To how much you loved him. To the fact that you were both 25 now. 

After dinner everyone heads outside and you can’t stop yourself from taking Nathan’s hand, pulling him a little closer. Outside you say goodbyes as everyone heads off in their Ubers. There was no question that you would be spending the night with Nathan. Your friends were around all the time and they knew when Nathan was in town you wanted to be around him as much as humanly possible. 

Once everyone was gone you turn to look up at Nate. The sky was dark, the evening cool but not too cold. The street was unbelievably quiet, as if the world had been put on pause. Everything felt perfect. “So we’re both twenty-five now,” you whisper. 

Nathan takes your other hand in his, pulling you a little closer. “And neither of us are married.”

Laughing softly you shake your head. “Twenty-five seemed so old at the time. I really thought we’d have it all figured out.”

“I do have something figured out.”

“Just one thing?” you tease. 

“One pretty big thing,” Nate tells you, voice quiet. 

“And what is it?”

“That I love you,” Nate says. “So much more than I’ve ever let you know. And I would marry you right now if that’s what you actually wanted but I don’t think a daisy when we were eleven is a great proposal.”

You inhale sharply, your lungs not seeming to be able to take in or exhale air steadily anymore. “Nathan,” you whisper, taking your hands from his and quickly lifting them up to wrap your arms around him. “I…I love you too. I have for so long.” Pulling back you look into Nathan’s eyes for a couple minutes before leaning closer. Nathan gets the hint quickly, closing the space and kissing you gently. It’s soft and passionate and so full of emotions that you feel a little dizzy, like you weren’t even on the planet in that moment anymore. Like it was all a fuzzy, incredibly dream. 

“Let’s go back to my apartment,” you whisper against his lips, still clutching onto him as if the second you let go everything that had just happened would vanish from reality. 

But you force yourself to pull away from him, to get into your car and go back to your apartment. 

You get to your apartment and you’re barely through the door before your hands are back all over him. He’s held you before, cuddled and hugged but when his hands slide around your waist this time it fills you with an unfamiliar excitement. Kissing Nate felt so natural, like you were made for each other. It’s not long before you’ve made your way into the bedroom, clothes scattered around the floor. 

While it’s not the first time you had slept with Nathan it’s the first time that it felt like it meant something real. 

The next morning you wake up wrapped in Nathan’s arms, a far cry from the mornings before when you woke up alone with Nate on the couch. The morning is slow as you climb out of bed, spending the morning cuddled on the couch watching tv and drinking coffee in nothing but Nathan’s t-shirt. 

“What now?” You ask after being up for a couple hours, back pressed to Nate’s chest, his arm draped over your shoulders. 

“What do you mean?” Nathan asks softly. 

“This…us. You’re going back to Denver tomorrow morning and we…,” you trail off, trying to hold back the fact that you were on the verge of tears. Blinking quickly you try to keep the tears from spilling from your eyes. 

“We what?” Nate’s voice is gentle but you can tell he doesn’t realize you’re about to cry, doesn’t realize how upset you are. 

You can’t stop the uneven inhale that makes your shoulders shake and Nate clues into your emotions. He reaches over, taking the mug of coffee out of your hands and setting it on the table beside him. He gently tugs your arm to turn you around and face him, pulling you into him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you let a couple tears slip from your eyes. “I don’t want you to go.”

Nate swallows heavily, running his hand along your back. “Come with me.”

A sarcastic laugh shakes your body as you pull back to look into Nate’s eyes. “I can’t just go with you. I have a job here, an apartment, and you live in a different country. I can’t just…leave.”

“I’d help you figure it out, you know we can deal with all that,” Nate whispers. 

“It’s so sudden, I don’t even know what we are. Are we together? Are we still friends?”

“We’ll always be friends,” Nathan tells you, leaning forward to kiss you gently. “But I think we’re beyond being just friends at this point.”

You kiss him back, you can’t stop yourself. Because it’s been years in the making. Years of developing feelings. It’s a few minutes before you manage to pull yourself back from Nate again. “What if I can’t find a job in Denver? Am I getting my own apartment? I can’t just move to a new country without some kind of, I don’t know…visa.” 

“Slow down,” Nathan says quietly, chuckling. “You don’t need it all figured out today. Come visit for a couple weeks, stay at my place, we can figure out the rest together.”

“Okay…I’ll go with you.”

“I love you,” Nate says gently. 

“I love you too.”

[mrsalwayswrite]

It’s Always Been You (Eugene Roe x f!Reader)

I have mixed feelings about this piece. But who doesn’t love Soft Roe?

Warnings: couple swear words but PURE FLUFFY FLUFF

Words: 2700

Tag List: @happyveday​ @saritanotserena​ @sydney-m​ @evelynshelby​

  I stood in front of the mirror, unable to believe the person looking back was actually me. I brushed my hands down the front of the gown, enjoying its smooth, silky texture. Such a contrast to the stiff, dirty ODs I had become accustomed to. Light makeup on my face, something I had not indulged in for years. I looked… dare I say… beautiful. Even as I witnessed myself dress up in the mirror, I doubted my own reflection. It felt like I was someone else. Today, though, that was what I wanted.  

 It was a Sunday and everyone was still celebrating being in Zell Am See. We had thought Germany was beautiful but it had nothing on Austria.

 In his pilfering, Captain Speirs had found an abandoned, wealthy home that he thought I might enjoy. He purposefully pulled me aside and told me to investigate the master bedroom before anyone else got to it. At my questioning look, he just gave a wink and said he would stand guard until I was done. Without another word, he lit a cigarette and rummaged through his newest acquisitions. 

 Intrigued and still confused, since everyone knew I did not care much about finding treasures, I wandered into the home and up the grand stairwell until I finally reached the master bedroom. My jaw dropped when I saw what he was referring to and purposefully left for me. I owed him a huge bottle of liquor after this. Whoever the wife was that lived here had expensive taste. There were racks of beautiful gowns and dresses, ranging from whimsical day dresses to breath-taking evening gowns. I spent about an hour just touching all the beautiful gowns, in awe that clothing like this was even real. Even the heels and few pieces of jewelry left behind boggled my mind in their quality. It was a fairytale. It had to be.  

 So, I had decided while all the men were continuing to get drunk, blow things up and joy ride…. I was going to embrace my femininity. Something I had not enjoyed since Albourne, so long ago. 

 Now here I stood, having spent entirely too long getting ready for some kind of elegant ball. The gown I commandeered was an emerald green color, making me feel like I was wearing a gemstone, with wide straps but left my arms bare and dipped low in the back. The red lipstick I found made my lips pop in the bright light of the bathroom. My favorite thing was the small gold chain necklace I discovered half hiding under a dresser, as if dropped and forgotten by whoever was leaving quickly. I wondered if in another life this could have been me regularly, attending socialite functions and dressing up like a princess. Instead I was used to dirt and blood marring my skin, ill-fitting ODs and a helmet that constantly slipped over my eyes. 

 For this moment, just for tonight… I could pretend otherwise. Pretend I was someone important, someone elegant. 

 When I finally stepped out of the wealthy house, Speirs took one look at the gown draped over my arm and the pair of black heels dangling from my hand, and suggested I use the officer's house to get ready in. 

 Taking a deep breath, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. If only my family could see me now, I thought. I slipped on the heels and walked out of the bathroom, the gown trailing lightly behind me. 

 Tonight was about me. Doing something special for me. To remind myself I was more than just a soldier, more than the scars I now bore from our time in combat. That I had not completely lost myself to war and its carnage. Beauty could still be found in the little things...the stolen moments. Like a stunning gown and red lipstick. 

 I could hear the officers downstairs, talking about something, followed by a sharp bark of laughter from Nixon. Before I disappeared into the upstairs bathroom, I had told them I was going to watch the sunset by the lake and if I came back after dark to not worry about me. 

 Being extra careful in the gown, I descended the stairs. One foot at a time. One nervous breath at a time. Beyond aware of how different I looked. 

 As I stepped into view of those lounging around, most playing poker at a table in the middle of the room, silence struck. I could feel their eyes land heavily on me. 

 "Holy shit." Nixon said, mouth dropped open. 

 I stepped down the last two steps, brushing down my gown to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. I tried to tease, their amazed looks making me uncomfortable. "I swear, it's like you guys have forgotten I am in fact a woman."

 "Uh huh. Can't forget that right now." Nixon took a sip of his drink in hand. 

 Harry asked, a smirk on his face as tapped his cards against the table. "Where you going dressed like that?"

 "Going to watch the sunset." I reminded them. 

 "Dressed like that?!" Nixon sputtered then narrowed his eyes at me. "Looks like you're planning on meeting someone."

 "Does a woman have to dress up only for a man?" Before anyone could answer, I pointed a finger at the officers. "The correct answer is no. I can dress up for myself. I'll be back in a while." 

 "Y/n?"

 I looked at Winters, surprised to see him sitting in an armchair near the fireplace reading while the other officers were playing cards. "Sir?"

 "You look beautiful."

 "Thank you, sir." I smiled at Winters, receiving a soft one in return.

 "You got a weapon on you?" Speirs asked around a cigarette between his lips. 

 "Maybe." 

 He froze, then slowly pulled the cigarette out and started to rise from his seat. 

 "Christ! Yes! I've got my knife! Anything else, dad, or can I go now?"

 "Be smart, don't stay out too late or talk to any boys." He deadpanned, shuffling the cards in his hand. The gleam in his eyes let me know he was just teasing, but would also have no qualms stabbing anyone who bothered me. 

 Amidst the others chuckling, I groaned. "I'm leaving now."

 Quickly, I walked out before anyone could try and convince me to stay or worse- go change. 

 Thankfully, even in the fading daylight, the air was still somewhat warm where I did not need a shawl. I could hear some faint cheers from the enlisted men but I slipped behind the rows of houses and headed down the lakeside path. I walked towards my favorite spot overlooking the lake. Colors danced upon the water, making it appear as if on fire. A few ambitious stars peeked out from above in the sky painted by angels. Never before would I have imagined finding myself somewhere so absolutely gorgeous. If heaven was real, I hoped it looked like Austria. 

 Standing there, I found myself humming and gently swaying to a Billie Holiday song. My arms wrapped around myself loosely, I tried to soak in everything. I wanted to remember this moment forever, to create new memories to replace the bad ones. The nightmares. 

 "Blue moon you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own…"

 "Y/n?"

 I turned to look over my shoulder, not expecting anyone else around. The voice was a dead giveaway but I was shocked our Cajun medic was down this way. "Hey, Gene."

 He stood several paces from me; his medic satchel, that he never went anywhere without, hanging off his side. He stared at me for a long moment, eyes dancing over me in a way that made me self-conscious of how much skin showed. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly as if waking from a dream. "What…" he cleared his throat, "what are you doin' here?"

 "Watching the sunset." I glanced over my shoulder at the lake then looked back at him. 

 "Mmm...dressed like you should be in the pictures?"

 I laughed, even as I felt my face warming. I ran my hands over the gown, still in awe that I was wearing something so expensive. For the most part of the past 4 years, I had been caked in grime and sweat; even though my skin was clean now, I felt too dirty to wear something so fine. 

 "I've never worn anything like this. I just...wanted to do something...for myself."

 "Mmm… well, I'll leave you be. Goodnight." With a single nod, he hesitated then turned around, beginning to walk up the path back to the houses. 

 "You know…" I said loudly, watching his feet still as he turned back around to look at me. "It would be a shame to be dressed up and not able to dance."

 He ducked his head slightly, a bashful smile on his face. I could see the uncertainty on his face. The desire to dance, to hold me close but also the concern for crossing that unspoken line separating us. For two years we had been tiptoeing around our growing feelings. Both aware but never acknowledging. It was in the secret looks, the subtle soft touches, the constant desire to seek one another out amongst a crowd, the solace our presence created when together. The knowledge hung there between us, with one slip we would both fall headlong over that cliff. So we kept back, together as friends but separate as lovers, even if we could read the desire in one another's eyes. It was safer this way. 

 Until now. 

 Without a word, he slowly approached me, as if waiting for me to change my mind, to tell him no, to maintain our status quo. My lips only turned up in a smile as he drew closer, encouraging him, telling him I wanted this. He dropped his satchel carefully on the ground. Our eyes locked, both aware of how this moment could change everything we had built. Carefully, he reached forward and clasped my hand, pulling me into his body. My lips parted on a quiet gasp, feeling his warm breath span across my face, his hand holding mine… and for once, neither one of us was covered in the blood of a fellow paratrooper. I lifted my hand to his shoulder, the muscles tensing underneath my palm. When he made no further movement, I grabbed his other hand and placed it on my waist. For a moment I thought he would reject this, to walk away as he seemed to stay frozen. Then with the softest whisper of my name, as if that was the key to unlock this moment, he pulled me even closer and took the lead. 

 In the stolen evening gown I found and Gene in his ODs, we danced. Like there was no war to haunt us. No rules against fraternizing. No fear of the future that lay before us. It was just him and I, in this moment of beauty and joy and life. We danced. He led me in a simple box step. Our pounding heartbeats, the fluttering of my gown and the soothing sound of the lake lapping on its shore, the only soundtrack we needed. 

 "You are beautiful."

 My face heated up at the compliment. "It's the dress and lipstick."

 "Non, mon chérie." He drawled in that perfect accent and tipped my face back to meet his soft gaze. "It's you. It's always been you."

 I stared into his soulful eyes, a new burning in them. Where once it had only been a candle trying desperately to beat back the darkness; now a bonfire replaced it. Something darkness knew it could never defeat. This man who held me so tenderly, like I was some kind of priceless gem, who had seen the brutality and horrors of war but still kept going, still trying his hardest to save his men even when others would have given up. He was beautiful, both inside and out. 

 "You need to stop lookin' at me like." He whispered; eyes glued to mine. 

 It was when he spoke, I realized we were no longer dancing. When had we stopped? Our bodies were still pressed together, our fingers now entwined but our feet rooted to the path. The air between us felt anything but still. An ardent intensity hovered between us, binding us to the moment, preventing us from escaping it. The sounds around us disappeared. All I could see, all I could feel and sense and taste… was him. 

 "Why?" I asked, my voice breathy. 

 "I might be tempted to mess up your lipstick."

 A nervous giggle escaped me. Instead of dispelling the profound moment, it only seemed to enhance it. With deliberate slowness, I moved my hand on his shoulder to the back of his neck. "I wouldn't mind."

 His hand moved to cup my cheek, holding me still as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over mine, the sweetest of sensations. It sent sparks shooting through me. After he leaned back just out of lips reach. Our eyes met once again, our breathing quickening even from the faint touch. As if our bodies were synced, I rose up at the same time he leaned forward. This time when our lips met, it was with a kiss long overdue. Our lips molded to one another, basking in the taste of the other. Both my hands slipped to the nape of his neck. His hand on my cheek drifted to the back of my head, keeping me from moving away. His other hand slid to my lower back, drawing me closer… and closer.

 The kiss deepened, pulling long dormant feelings from both of us, now finally exposed without reprimand. In the midst, his hand snaked up my side to brush a thumb over the underside of my breast. At the sensation, I gasped in the kiss, surprised by his forwardness. Surprised by the pure wanton need it shot through me. As my lips parted in the gasp, his tongue thrust into my mouth like he owned it. As if he needed more of my taste. Needed more of me. As if a simple kiss would never be enough. Not to him. He quickly drew my own tongue in a dance that soon left my knees weak and wobbling. I found myself clinging to him, not just in desire, but also to keep me upright, else I melted into a puddle of sheer bliss. 

 All too soon, we were forced apart by our lungs screaming for air. He pressed his forehead to mind, his hand still skimming my side from my hip to the underside of my breast and back down. 

 "It’s you. It’s always been you." He whispered as if finally able to confide his deepest secret. The words spilling forth like water out of cracks in a dam, held back for too long. "Since I first talked to you in Toccoa about tryin' to sneak a laxative into Sobel's coffee. And in Bastogne… you were always there for me. Checkin' on me. Makin' sure I knew I wasn't alone. But we're in a goddamn war and I couldn't say nothin'. Seein' you standin' out here, lookin' like an angel, I just...I had to…"

 I pressed a finger to those kiss-swollen lips of his, silencing the onslaught of secrets. "Gene, I'm going to need you to stop talking and kiss me again."

 He smirked, nuzzling my neck for a second. When he spoke, I could feel his hot breath and lips against my skin. "Yes, ma'am."

 This time there was no hesitation, no wavering in dilemma. Our lips touched and it felt like it was meant to be. No great fireworks in the night sky, no great orchestra announcing our love. It felt more like two puzzles pieces finally fitting together. Like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. It was perfect. 

 When we broke apart again, I felt delirious with joy and the look on his face said something similar. I laid my head on his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. Bodies pressed against one another, molded together like clay. Without a word, we began swaying. The soundtrack of our shared heartbeats and the lake's waves drowning out anything else. 

 Nothing in the world had changed. We were still paratroopers occupying Austria. Men were still dying. The war was still going strong in the Pacific. Evil endured. 

 But in this moment, in our own little world. 

 Everything changed. 

[bcdwhcre]

“Scarlet Eyes,” Kurapika x Reader

ship: Kurapika x FemReader

summary: Kurapika finds out that he isn’t the only one with scarlet eyes.

warnings: none just sadness and some fluff

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It had come to a shock when Kurapika found out from his friends that they ran into another Kurta member, he thought they were mistaken and probably seen something that wasn’t obviously there but in the back of his head, he was desperate and was hoping that another one made it out alive like he did.

Gon and Killua had convinced him it was true. The two boys seeing the young girls eyes change right in front of them to a scary red as fear filled her very eyes. She ran off shortly after the encounter, she never meant for her eyes to change and she had kept them normal for a long time, trying to seal her identity so she didn’t get killed off as well because in her mind, she was the last member left too.

Kurapika had went to the area where the two young boys said they saw her, hoping for some kind of miracle he would see her, maybe even recognize her. Was it someone he knew? Or just another member he knew existed but didn’t know them personally. He fiddled with the chains on his hand, walking through the small town nearing midnight and looked up at the night sky.

He had given up the small piece of hope he had left in him. He didn’t know why he was overthinking this but maybe he thought this long lost member of the Kurta can save him from his lifelong hatred of the spiders. Or maybe she could take the guilt that weighed heavily on his heart, the blame he carried on his shoulders.

After the first night of looking for her, he never stopped. He kept going back to the same town she was seen, maybe she stayed and was hiding. Gon had remembered exactly what she looked like as well as the scent she carried and he was happy to help Kurapika find another member of his clan.

It had taken a few months but finally once Gon and Killua had departed and went their own way, Kurapika stayed in the small town. He got himself a small cottage, hoping he wasn’t wasting his time finding someone who doesn’t want to be found.

But one day in particular, he walked down the busy town to collect some supplies he needed, mostly food. He was carrying the bag on his shoulder before he seen a young woman purchasing items, she looked oddly familiar and the description Gon gave him was glued to his head as he stared at her. He was frozen, he didn’t know what to do. Was this the woman they were talking about? He had prayed to the Kurta gods this was her, he needed it to be her.

Once she was walking away, he was quick to follow her and practically spied on her the next few days before making the first move to talk to her. Today was the third day of seeing her, this time Kurapika had the courage to follow her to the end of the town where there wasn’t many people and stopped her.

“Excuse me-“ He spoke quietly, making her turn her head to look up at him and he was frozen again. Her beauty making him flush light pink as she had a small gentle smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, this is a weird question.” He continued, scratching the back of his head as his nerves started to kick in. should he just be blunt and ask her?

“Is there any chance you know about the Kurta clan?” He spoke low, just for her to hear. Even if she wasn’t the girl, she didn’t pose a direct threat to him and he knew that.

But her face gave it away as it drained with color and became pale. ‘they found me?’ she thought to herself and was prepared to run or defend herself but all Kurapika did was reach over and embrace her in a tight hug. He was breathless and she was stunned, why was he hugging her? she was quick to push him off her and had pulled out a small dagger she hid in her pocket.

“Who are you? Are you here to kill me?” She pointed it up at Kurapika, the tip of the dagger touching just below his chin and he shook his head quickly.

“I’m Kurapika.. I thought I was the last Kurta alive but you— how did you make it out alive? They were all slaughtered.” He gently spoke at her, looking around as people gave weird looks as she held the dagger at his throat.

She eventually dropped it down, gesturing her head for him to follow her as she walked through the wooded area, coming across the small cottage she was staying in with a large beautiful garden. He was in awe, not just with the garden but with her. She stopped in her tracks, turning around to look up at him.

“I thought you were killed when you made it out of the village. They said you were when the spiders came to murder us. My father had a built in hideout that was underneath the house, it was for emergencies since he always had a good hunch when it came to danger. He obviously didn’t make it in time but I did, I hid for hours, for days for someone to come for me.” She confessed, her eyes beginning to water at the flashback she had of coming out of the small hideout and seeing the clan brutally slaughtered with their eye sockets full of blood.

Kurapika stood there, he knew the feeling but he never got to see the clan or the village after the spiders burnt it to the ground— he simply heard of the murders on the television, he couldn’t imagine the horror you saw as his heart started to ache.

“I’m sorry, I wish I was there.” He admitted, getting a bit emotional himself.

“Be glad you weren’t. You were lucky, you got out.. there was nothing you could’ve done except walk into your death.” She sighed, turning her eyes to look away from his.

She knew of Kurapika, she seen him around back at the village when they were younger but she was never friends with him and she never could bring the courage up to go play with him and the other kids growing up. She always stayed to herself, stayed inside and helped her mother with the chores and learned how to cook then her father taught her how to defend for herself and survive incase tragedy striked. seemed he could tell the future, she always thought to herself.

Kurapika stood there in silence, the both of them staring elsewhere at the now sad reality they face while the traumatic flashbacks flood their heads once again. She noticed how stiff he was, how cold he seemed when his clan was brought up. She could tell by looking at him that he carried around the guilt and blamed himself for the clan being murdered, it was obvious.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.. it’s getting late, maybe if you want to stay.. for dinner? maybe talk or catch up? If there’s even anything to catch up on—“ She began to ramble on, not knowing what to say but not wanting to lose someone apart of her clan again.

Kurapika chuckled, nodding his head as he thought about it. They both felt the same way, not wanting to lose another Kurta member now that they found out it’s just the two of them. This made a spark ignite, having something in common that no one else can have or even relate to. Being apart of the Kurta clan was something very important to the both of them, especially now that they are the very thing that keep the clan non-extinct.

“I’ll love to stay, honestly I don’t think I can leave without at least making sure you’re safe..” Kurapika nervously fiddled with his chains again and followed her inside the warm cottage, feeling at peace already.

Obviously neither of them know a lot about each other but the bond the clan shared back when everyone was alive was unbreakable. The two stayed inside for the rest of the night, talking, eating, laughing as well as crying at one point when bringing up happy memories of the Kurta village. Kurapika hasn’t felt this peaceful since the clan was alive. He felt like he was at home. She felt the same way, she felt content and happy.

“Perhaps I should get going, I can always come back tomorrow to continue our conversation.” He yawned, standing up from the chair and she nodded quickly.

As she got up after him, she was quick to embrace him in a tight hug that caught him off guard but he swiftly wrapped his arms around her small frame and held her tightly and they held each other for a moment, afraid of letting the other go incase the spiders finish off the job and completely wipe the Kurta clan clean.

It was silly, there were both strangers but talking today they both feel like they’ve known each other for years— they kinda have in a way without really knowing.

They both pulled back, she smiled up at him and Kurapika gave her a genuine smile, something he hasn’t done in a while either. He walked towards the door, putting on his coat and he looked back at her, saying their goodbyes.

Kurapika walked down the wooded trail, his hands stuffed inside his pockets as the moon shined down on him. The whole walk to his place, he thought about her and not in a creepy way but in a way where he was glad he wasn’t the last Kurta, where he was glad to finally have someone who understands, who shares a lot in common with him, someone he could be close friends with.

He felt dumb for thinking about it too hard but this was just a once in a lifetime experience, something he always dreamt of— not being alone. he hated being alone, yes he had friends and he loved his friends but he just always felt empty, always felt like he was drowning and someone was holding his head under. Most nights he would cry, he would stare at the wall for hours instead of sleeping, feeling empty and defeated and feeling the guilt weigh heavily upon him.

But now that he has met you and knows you are in fact, a Kurta member, he finally slept peacefully for the first time in ages and same went with her, she slept for eight hours straight, Kurapika glued to her mind and thinking about how the clan would be proud of the both of them for finding one another.

You two are home now.

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Thinking about making this into a series 🤔 kinda liked the way it turned out.

I accept requests plsssss!

• Masterlist

[sofreddie]

A Good Fit (Part 1 of 2)

Summary: Jensen really wants to land this role.

Characters: Jensen x Producer!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Implied Smut

Word Count: 1,496

A/N: There will be a part 2. This story came outta nowhere and I just had to write it down. Let me know what you think.

Jensen took a deep breath as he stood in front of the closed door, his hands clutching the script to the role of a lifetime - an upcoming show called Supernatural. He wanted this role, bad.

The only thing that stood between him and the role was the producer, Y/N Y/L/N.

She - yes, she - was the producer, the top of the food chain, the one that made and unmade careers.

Taking on an air of confidence that was mostly acting, Jensen knocked firmly on the door. Hearing a feminine voice call out to him, he opened the door, closing it behind him. He stood, script held tightly in his hands, and took several confident steps towards the stunning woman behind the desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Jensen stated, "I'm Jensen Ackles and I wanted a chance to talk to you about this role," he stated, more confidently than he felt. He gingerly set the script on her desk and patiently waited for her response.

She sat back in her chair, legs crossed, her expression unchanging as she just stared at him. He felt like he was coming unglued under her gaze. Finally, she looked away, clearing her throat as she sat forward and grabbed for the script. She barely gave it a glance before she tossed it back on the desk and casually leaned back in her chair.

"No."

"N-no?" Jensen repeated quietly in shock. He expected they'd at least have a professional conversation about it. I mean, there's a certain level of courtesy to these sorts of things. Usually.

"No," she repeated, "I don't think you're a good fit for this role," she shrugged, then sat back straight, returning her attention to her computer.

Jensen needed this role. And Y/N's clear dismissal of him just…pissed him off. But what could he do? Gaping like a fish and unsure what to say when she made him feel three-feet-tall, he reluctantly retrieved the script and left the office. There had to be some way to convince her.

He just knew he was perfect for this role.

Jensen sighed as he relaxed back onto the couch, accepting the ice-cold beer Jared handed to him.

"So, how'd the meeting go?" Jared asked with barely restrained excitement. He knew his friend was perfect for the role.

"She said no," Jensen breathed out, taking a healthy gulp of his beer.

"That's it?" Jared asked with a furrowed brow.

"That's literally it," Jensen nodded, "I walked in, introduced myself, said I wanted to talk about the role. She just stared at me all cold and said 'no'," he shrugged, but Jared knew he really, really wanted this role.

"I heard she'd gotten a bit brusque after her divorce a few months ago, but I didn't realize she was letting it affect her work. That's so unlike her," Jared said, suddenly concerned. He had known and worked with Y/N a lot over his blossoming career, which is why he encouraged Jensen to talk to her, to begin with.

"Probably needs to get laid," Jensen scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He wasn't usually so callous, but he was seriously pissed.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in Jared's head and he flashed a grin at his friend.

"So…show her you're made for the role," he suggesting, grinning lewdly and wiggling his brows for emphasis. Jensen huffed a laugh, shaking his head at the obvious nonsense, "I'm serious," Jared elaborated, "You're right, she probably does need to get laid. And Dean Winchester is a ladies' man. So…show her how Dean would handle the situation."

Jensen listened to his friend's words, letting them settle in his mind. He wasn't so sure about the 'getting laid' part. But he could definitely walk in there, in character, and introduce her to the real Dean Winchester.

Y/N rummaged through her handbag looking for her keys as she exited the office building. She began walking the familiar steps towards where she parked her car when she saw him.

Jensen Ackles - who had visited her a few days before - was leaning against the side of the building. He had one leg propped against the building, his back leaning against the wall casually. As soon as he spotted her, a bright and boyish grin split his face. It was almost blinding.

He had a swagger about him that wasn't there before. He exuded a confidence that made him seem even bigger and broader than before - and he was no small man, to begin with.

Her eyes trailed over his attire. It was as if he'd walked out of a concept sketch: boots, jeans fitting just right, black t-shirt with an open button-down, and a worn leather jacket. As she met his eyes once more, she couldn't help clenching her thighs.

"I thought I told you that you weren't a fit for the role," Y/N managed to find her voice, surprised at its strength. When she first met Jensen, she thought he was too pretty, too heartthrob for the role of the rugged bad-boy Dean Winchester. Jensen was still handsome as ever, but now he looked rougher around the edges, more worn and world-weary in a way. Yet that bright, child-like innocence still sparkled in his eyes with a hint of mischief.

"If you give me the chance," he spoke for the first time, deepening his voice for the character, leaning into her personal space enough to be flirtatious without being pushy, "I'll show you just how good I fit," he smirked, before licking his lower lip into his mouth and biting down.

His confidence grew as he watched her, first entranced by his eyes, then staring at his mouth. Her breathing picked up a little. She had to admit, he was suddenly oozing all the confidence and sex appeal the character called for.

"You really think you're a good fit?" she purred, trailing a finger down the front of his shirt before giving him a challenging smirk, "Prove it, Dean."

"Dean doesn't work that way, Sweetheart," he leaned in teasingly, seeing that he had her hooked, neediness flickering in her eyes, "You don't get me until I get the job," he breathed out, his lips hovering over hers teasingly.

"Who says I'm convinced you're the man for the job? There's plenty of others," she tried to sound confident, but her words were breathy despite herself. It had been so long since someone made her feel this way.

"Sweetheart, there ain't no other men like me," he growled lightly, his hands wrapping around her lower back and tugging her up against him. He was worried that maybe he was pushing a little too far - getting a little too into his role - but the desperate whine she let out when he pressed her body against his let him otherwise.

"Jensen-"

"Say it," he interrupted her, his lips hovering millimeters from her skin as he ghostly trailed along her jaw and neck, his breath panting against her skin.

"Come up to the office," she breathed out, "We'll sign the contract," she offered, looking into his mesmerizing eyes, "I-I'm convinced," she swallowed hard, pulling from his grasp, "Y-you're Dean."

He smirked, staring at her lips before flickering back to her eyes, "After you," he grinned, stepping aside and gesturing for her to lead the way. She took a deep breath, gathering her bearings, before standing tall and striding back into her office.

She was all too aware of his eyes on her as she walked through the lobby of the building, and as they rode silently up in the elevator - an obvious tension building. As she heard her office door click shut behind her, she grew tense, not knowing what to expect.

Clearly, he was flirting with her before. But that was for the role. To convince her he was Dean Winchester. Well…it worked. She was most definitely convinced. She felt a little better having confidence in the fact that soon, millions of women would most likely be squirming, just like her.

His eyes remained trained on her as she readied the contract, passing it over for him to review. The minutes seemed to stretch on forever, the silence deafening.

"You know," she said as he signed the contract and passed it back to her with a winning grin, "You don't have to - I don't expect -" she sighed, shaking her head.

Jensen was surprised. She was this confident, intimidating, powerful woman. But at that moment, she was a stunningly gorgeous woman who was clearly affected by his routine. Feeling a little bold, and letting Dean guide him, Jensen stepped around the desk, slowly so she could anticipate his approach. When he reached her, he gently pulled her to her feet.

Her eyes were locked on his, wondering what he was going to do. He smiled kindly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

"That's a shame," he breathed out, "I was hoping I could show you how good a fit I am," he smirked devilishly.

PART 2

Forevers:

@winchesterprincessbride

@iamcmims

@roxyspearing

@reigningqueenofwords

@mogaruke

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@speakinvain

@atc74

@sterekloveaffairs

@mrs-meghan-winchester

@chook007

@growningupgeek

@goldenolaf25

@esoltis280

@hobby27

@sis-tafics

@arryn-nyxx

@x-waywardaf-x

@shann-the-artist-moon

@sandlee44

@lucywinchester2000

@emoryhemsworth

@time-travel-bouqet

@buckysbrat

@calaofnoldor

@spnbaby-67

@miraclesoflove

@lyarr24

[ironmandeficiency]

rain clouds

pairing: maxwell lord / reader

word count: 2813

summary: i don’t even know what to say abt this one except it’s filled with yearning

a/n: this was gonna be super soft and happy but then it got soft and sad and then soft and happy again. posting from mobile yet again. tbh idek if this makes a lick of sense, we will see

warnings: mentions of shitty parents (maxwell’s dad & alistair’s mom), hints at child neglect & cps, anxious max, don't worry it gets fluffy

maxwell lord hasn’t had a day off since he founded black gold cooperative. that business was his baby long before he had a living baby with his ex wife, and loved both just as much. there was no such thing as a “sick day” to max; any day spent sleeping or healing is a day lost in the pursuit of greatness, the pilgrimage to the top of the corporate food chain. the only one he would ever make an exception for is alistair, and even then work would sometimes interrupt.

there was a time, almost too long ago for him to vividly remember, where maxwell did more than work. when he actually got his hands dirty in something that didn’t have anything to do with corporate schemes, and laughed with genuine glee more often than scowled. it was a long time ago now, and no one would ever believe it if they were told that maxwell lord ever got dirty with, well, dirt.

“come on! you gotta try this, it’s great!” the memories of his only friend have become worn with constant reminiscing, his mind unsure as to what’s real and what he imagined to fill in the gaps left by age and new priorities.

maxwell had found a secluded section of the park down the street from the apartment you both lived in, one safe from the eyes of bullies and adults alike. his feet were bare as the day he was born while making leaps and bounds in the abundant mud puddles from yesterday’s rain. he did his best to not let what little joy he found be dwindled by circumstance — his shitty father and reticent mother and the lingering ghost of poverty — the way others lost theirs. max believed himself different than that and carried himself as such no matter what others said.

you were still on the sidewalk, watching your best friend with awe and curiosity. the idea of traipsing through mud barefooted was exhilarating, but you knew that if your clothes got dirty, your mother would hang you out to dry alongside the clothes you were wearing. how did it feel to have the mud between your toes, the rainwater soaking into your skin? you didn’t remember, but you would like to.

to be honest, maxwell didn’t expect you to join him. he didn’t think you would ever try to break out of the box of propriety your family shoved you in, not now or ever. but the next thing he knew, he heard another set of feet splashing around in the puddles he had just vacated, making a path to where he stood. a playful shriek he knew as yours rang through the air and he immediately turned to you, wanting to see your face as you enjoyed yourself for the first time in a long time. “maxwell, this is wonderful! why didn’t you get me to do this earlier?”

you never looked more beautiful to him than when the afternoon sun shone on you, your smile bright and laughter clear and joyous. you were free as lady liberty, splashing around like there wasn’t a single other thing you had to do. then you take his hand and max swears that he’s seeing stars. before you know it, you’re dancing in the mud to the song of the birds in the trees. is it just max’s imagination, or do you tell him you love him?

your lips are on his and it’s magic. his shirt is being gripped in tight fists and his hands are magnetized to your waist, holding each other tight enough to need a crowbar to separate you. there’s nowhere he would rather be than back there with you…

but it’s been far too many years since he’s seen or heard from you, there’s no telling if you’re even in the country still at this point. it took a long time for him to not dolefully gaze at every door you could walk through once he left for college, hoping to see that radiant smile and hear you say his name so reverently.

but these days, reverence is the last thing maxwell thinks he deserves, not after the dreamstone debacle. hell, he isn’t even completely convinced that he can adequately take care of alistair despite the low standards his father and his ex-wife have presented him with. despite these doubts (and the perplexing way that everyone acted as if he never almost took over the world), he was just given full custody of alistair when the school called cps on his ex-wife for neglect. it was a terrible way to get a second chance at doing right by his son, but it’s a second chance nonetheless.

after seeing sense and liquidating black gold while he still could get something to survive with, he and alistair found a two bedroom apartment in a nice part of town. it was miniscule compared to what he had but it was a sight more than what he could have ended up with. besides, max had no time to be frivolous when he had his son to protect.

back to the grindstone he went. he knew that people would recognize him if he kept his current appearance and name, so he retired the lord name and decided on another fresh start. he slowly adjusted to using lorenzano after so many years rejecting it, got the blond removed from his hair. he found a job in financial advisory, and ironically enough, he was damn good at it. he knows what he’s doing when it comes to money that isn’t his, who’d have thought?

he actually knew a couple people from work that he almost considered friends. honestly he wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore, didn’t remember the feelings that were supposed to be associated with having them. but it was enough, truly more than enough; because this progress meant that he was dragging himself out of the grave he dug, because he was taking care of his son first and foremost.

alistair was put into a new school; nothing fancy, just the nicer public school that was a pleasing midpoint between work and their apartment. the first day he attended, alistair came home with so many good stories about the friends he made and the games they played at recess. within a few months he had been contacted by his teacher who had nothing but praise for little alistair lorenzano. his little boy was excelling and max couldn’t have been more proud than he was during that phone call. seconds after he hung up, he found alistair in his bedroom and wrapped him in a massive hug, making sure to emphasize the fact that max was proud of his son.

and then there was his neighbor. they lived across the hall from him and max would only catch the tail end of their arrivals and departures to their apartment. he did think it was rather odd, their strangely adept ability at avoiding him. if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was on purpose.

it wasn't intentional — not quite.

you had been avoiding your neighbor, but it had nothing to do with the oil commercials or dreamstone debacle — your new neighbor made you sad. the feeling would hit every time you saw him. his mere presence dusted off long-worn and cherished memories of a time where the sun felt warmer on your skin, where smiles came easier than heartache.

it took a long while before you realized why: it was because this mystery man reminded you of a love long lost to the dagger of circumstance. something about his walk, or maybe his hands during the times you’d see him open his apartment door, reminded you of what an older maxwell lorenzano could have been. the section of your heart that housed your thoughts of maxwell had been wrapped in caution tape with every hazard sign known to man flashing around it for many years, not wanting to venture there for more than a few moments in fear of hurting yourself even more.

if only you realized it was really max that you were so adamantly avoiding.

three months went by of max wondering why he still has yet to meet his neighbor. not that it was imperative to his daily survival, but his curiosity was all but tearing him apart at the seams. he didn’t know what else to do; yes he wanted to know his neighbor, but how did he go about that when they never saw each other?

“just knock on their door, daddy. be their friend, like you tell me to do when i go to school.” the childlike innocence alistair speaks with betrays the actual feasibility of the idea. maxwell was overthinking everything! people talked to their neighbors all the time! this could just be a simple “hey are you doing okay?” and the chips would fall where they may.

maxwell ruffles his son’s hair affectionately, pulling him into a small hug. “you know what? that’s exactly what i’m gonna do. thanks buddy, i’ll be right back.” it’s only across the hall, max isn’t gonna be gone long.

it’s been years since he’s done anything this casually daring. everything he did for decades was all high risk yielding high reward. talking to his neighbor should seem simple in comparison — it presented no drastic consequence if it went belly up, he almost never saw his neighbor anyway. that wouldn’t change after he finally sated his curiosity, certainly not.

once alistair’s homework is finished and is entranced by the television, maxwell decides to head next door, being sure that the house keys are in his pocket before shutting the door. he probably should have thought it out more than he did — he had no idea about his neighbor’s work schedule or if they had kids or a spouse, if they were a serial killer or an introvert. or even worse, if they happened to be someone who remembers everything he’s done. that would be his luck, his first true attempt at making a friend being thwarted with the magnitude of his past sins.

he doesn’t hear his own front door open, alistair’s head poking out to watch his dad. “knock, daddy!” he whisper-shouts and nearly shakes maxwell out of his skin. the little boy laughs at his dad’s startled expression before nodding and shutting the door back.

max went to knock but realized with his knuckles only an inch from the wood that his hands were peculiarly slippery. when did maxwell’s hands get so clammy? there was nothing to be nervous about. he was just going to attempt to make a friend, like his son simplified.

but the thing is, maxwell knows that it’s been decades since he’s had a friend. the last time someone outside of his son was kind to him not for the zeroes he wrote in checkbooks was you, and sometimes he even doubted that you were real. there are hazy memories of him as a teen that splashed in mud puddles and kissed a being of pure sunshine with the innocence of youth. he hopes they’re real, for his sake and for the sunshine he romped around the park with. maybe memories of him are keeping you sane the way your memory did for him.

as his thoughts spiraled, maxwell lost his nerve. with a heaping dose of irrationality, he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side of the door. turns out, there was no one on the other side.

“excuse me, did you need something?”

your first instinct when seeing a man almost knocking on your apartment door, on a normal day, was not to be so polite. but you were having a strangely good day and there was no reason to bring down the positive energy with an abrasive attitude. plus, the man looked so conflicted. he seemed to need a friend.

“i, uh, live across the hall, have been for a few months and never got to meet you.” a small gesture to the side shifted your attention to the door across from yours — and the little boy who had the door cracked just enough to see the interaction between you and who you think must be his dad.

this man’s voice, something about it was familiar. he moved from in front of your door and extended his hand towards you in an effort for a decent introduction. “i’m maxwell lor-lorenzano.”

maxwell lorenzano. you never would have thought that out of all the people to have graced this apartment building, he would be one. his hands were still softly strong and shoulders still broad. his eyes were still the same striking shade of brown, but there was a lot more pain there, a lot of experience that was clearly pushing him down by his shoulders and into the depths of anguish. yet there he was, keeping his head above water and still being kind. this truly was your max.

you take his hand with a soft smile, squeezing it gently as you give your name. “it’s been a long time, max.”

max couldn’t believe it. after all these years, it was you.

you had moved in across the street from him in his early teenage years and had become acquainted when walking to school and home. the two of you trekked through high school together, ignoring the cruelty of classmates and focusing on getting to the future, to freedom. hope of being friends after high school was abundant in the beginning, but soon your paths sent you further and further away from each other and towards a future neither of you were sure you wanted without the other.

“it really has been a while. i- i uh,” he could barely string a sentence together anymore. his shock and joy of seeing you again had his brain melting into goo and his tongue an almost immovable weight. “i missed you.” the blood rushed to your face the way it always did when you were with max. even when stuttering over his words and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he was still charming.

max noticed your attire and the wet umbrella in hand and was immediately taken back to that day spent in the park after it rained, when he . the sunshine on his skin, your smile that never failed to take his breath away…

a soft smile was on max’s lips but his eyes were somewhere else. “max? is everything okay?”

“do you remember the day we went to the park, when we splashed in the puddles and-“

“and when i kissed you? i could never forget if i tried.”

you really did kiss him! it made him want to do it again, as many times as you would let him. but that brought one little stipulation with it: alistair.

what would you say when you found out he had a son?

before max’s thoughts could dampen your reunion, you continued, and with every word, you solidified your place in his heart. “maybe we could do that again some time, just like we used to. and you could bring your son too, if you’d like.” you were jumping out on a limb by assuming that the little boy was his son, but with the apparent protectiveness max displayed around him when you see them together, what else could he be?

“that sounds so fun! can we, dad?” alistair made his presence known by pummeling into max’s legs, nearly knocking him over with an excited hug. you grinned at the affection, watching max’s eyes fill with warmth as he gazed at his son. “i don’t see why not. just change into some play clothes and get your raincoat from the hall closet.”

alistair shoots with glee and is immediately running back to the apartment, excited to change clothes and play in the rain. you watch max’s eyes as they light up at alistair’s happiness, that flicker reminding of you of when you were younger and the world was kinder to you both.

here was your second chance with max, another opportunity to be with someone who never stopped loving you even as the seasons changed and the zeroes increased. “i’ll let you guys get changed, come knock when you’re ready to go.”

feeling an uptick in bravery, max placed a quick peck to your cheek before he turned toward his apartment. “will do, see you in a few.” the risk he took was well worth seeing you grow bashful at the affection, eyes flitting to your shoes before back at him, a soft smile across your lips. you watched him walk away before going back into your apartment, waiting for the rest of your life to begin at the rapping of knuckles on solid oak.

maxwell lord taglist & others: @phoenixhalliwell @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @captainrexstan @battletales @stardustsunrisekisses @senator-nahberries @max--phillips @jedi-mando @veracruz-djarin @andysficrecs @purelypascal @whovianwar @iv7867 @kaermorons @princess76179 @pedropasscals

[plus-size-reader]

Loss

Sam Winchester x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2690 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Sam knows that he has to call the reader when Hunters start going missing, to protect her but it isn’t nearly as easy as it sounds. 

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The British Men of Letters were slaughtering American hunters, and that meant one thing.

That meant that Sam had to get as many hunters as he could somewhere safe and that included you. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he knew that he had to try.

You were going to be in danger just as much as anyone else, and Sam would never forgive himself if you died. He would never forgive himself if he had to hear about your death through a hunters chain.

So he had to try.

The only trouble was that you hadn’t spoken to Sam or Dean in months, and he wasn’t sure that you would even talk to him. However, he forced himself to pick up the phone.

As a matter of fact, he forced himself to pick up the phone, dial your number, and hit the call button before he thought better of it. It rang a few times, before clicking to let him know that you had chosen to answer after all.

“Sam?” you answered, shocked briefly at his calling before deciding to just hear him out. He hadn’t tried to reach you in months, but whatever this was, you knew that it had to be important.

There was silence on the other line for a second as he thought of what he wanted to say.

He had tried to make this call a few dozen times since you two had last seen each other but every time he’d hung up before he could get the words out. Unfortunately though, he didn’t have that luxury this time.

This was much more than just a stupid crush, this was a matter of life and death.

“Hey, where are you?” he eventually got out, knowing better than to get too emotional right off the bat, though it was hard. He had to keep it all business right now, until he knew you were safe.

...Almost immediately, you knew something was really wrong.

Usually, he only called you on business, but there was something else in his tone when he spoke that told you this was more personal. There was something wrong, and you had to try and make sense of it.

It was the only chance you had.

“Where am I? What’s going on Sam? Are you okay?” you wondered, registering that tone you only ever really heard when one of you was in danger. It was only natural that it put you on edge.

However, it wasn’t until he spoke again that you realized why that was.

“I’m at Jody’s place, I need you to meet me here as soon as you can. I’ll explain later” he assured, hoping that would be enough to convince you. He didn’t have that much time to explain right now.

He knew how crazy it must have sounded, but he just had to hope you could make it in time.

Losing you just wasn’t an option, and the most safe you could be was by his side.

Now, you really considered asking him more follow up questions or trying to figure out what was wrong with him but you knew it wouldn’t help. Sam sounded desperate, and you needed to talk in person.

“Okay, I’m on my way” you decided, whispering a goodbye and hanging up before heading in the direction of Jody’s house. Luckily, you weren’t too far out from where you were right now, working a case.

It would only take about forty minutes to get there, if you chose to drive the limit.

You had no reason to speculate what this was about, trying your very best to keep calm, though from the outside, it didn’t look that way. It looked like your foot was tied down to the accelerator, and you couldn’t help it.

Knowing the Winchesters, it could have been anything from a threat to either of their lives or another apocalypse. In any case, Sam wouldn’t have called you if he didn’t have to and that was what scared you.

There was a point in time when you and Sam were inseparable, and there was nothing anyone could do to change that...Or so you thought.

An accident changed all of that.

This life was dangerous, and you knew that but nothing could have prepared you for that day.

You didn’t even realize there was a werewolf in your area at first. In fact, it wasn’t until Sam and Dean showed up at your door that you started seeing the signs.

They assured you that they just wanted to let you know and were handing it.

...Until they  weren’t.

The two of them were plenty capable of dealing with what they needed to really but they could never be sure. After all, the Winchesters hunts were never as simple as they should have been.

So, they asked you for your help.

You and your sister, Shelby, were accomplished hunters in your field and they knew that it couldn’t hurt to have you two as backup. They had hunted several werewolves before and it should have been simple.

However, this case didn’t turn out to be as cut and dry as the others had been. There wasn’t a single werewolf like they had thought, and instead, you were dealing with a whole pack.

Not only that but you walked into a trap, which involved you and your younger sister, alongside the two Winchester brothers.

Now, you weren’t personally upset by the idea of an ambush, convinced that the two of you could handle this between the four of you but Shelby wasn’t so easily convinced.

She was not only your usual hunting partner and your best friend, but the only family you had left. Still, you didn’t hesitate to have her by your side for the entire event, not that it made her feel any better.

There was just so much you hadn’t prepared for. At that moment, you weren’t worried and you had nothing to worry about, but that quickly changed.

It was messy.

The entire process probably took a half hour or so but long story short, your kid sister, your only friend, ended up cornered by three or four members of the pack.

All you could do was scream as they tore into her, having picked out the weakest among you and they went for the kill. They had no interest in changing her.

They were out for blood, and they got it.

You ran to her side immediately, dropping your blade into the dirt without any care for what happened to you. The farthest thing from your mind was your own well being after something like that.

That left Sam and Dean with the responsibility of keeping you alive, which they took happily after dragging you along for all this. By the time it was all over and both men had put them all down, Shelby was dead.

They practically tore her inside out and you knew that there was nothing anyone would be able to do for her, so you held her hand and tried to keep it together.

It didn’t work.

In fact, you were still grieving over her loss and always would be but that didn’t mean you were going to abandon Sam or Dean in their time of need. Whatever it was he needed, you were going to show up.

There was no use blaming them for her loss when she was gone.

~ You rang the doorbell to Jody’s house expecting the brunette and the Winchesters to be waiting inside. However, when the door opened, you were faced with much more than that.

Inside her rustic home were more hunters than you’d ever seen gathered in one place before and it was almost impressive, until you remembered what you were there for.

As soon as the panic in Sam’s voice came creeping back into your head, you found yourself much more worried than before.

If this many people had showed up, that meant this was much bigger than just you and the boys. This was a hunter problem at large, and that worried you.

“What’s going on? Who are all these people?” you asked first, entering the house with no hesitation, striking up a conversation with Jody immediately. You didn’t know her all that well, but you had always found yourself comforted by her.

In a lot of ways, she provided the family you no longer had and you were grateful for that. She even called every year on your birthday and the anniversary of Shelby’s death to just talk to you.

It wasn’t much in reality, but for you it was everything.

“It will probably be easier for the boys to explain” she shrugged, separating from the hug she’d trapped you in to lead you into the kitchen. There, in the middle of all the chaos, was Sam, his brow furrowed in silent contemplation.

That was his worried face.

Jody whistled slightly to catch his attention before leaving to help attend to all the guests, patting you on the back lightly before she went. At her call, Sam turned toward you, his eyes widening when he saw you.

He really hadn’t thought you would show up, though he hoped.

“You made it. That’s good” he started, closing the space between the two of you but not going in for a hug or any kind of physical contact for that matter. Sam struggled, to this day, with what happened to Shelby.

He blamed himself and you knew that, but you weren’t going to talk about it anymore with him. Talking wasn’t going to bring her back and it seemed like you had bigger things to worry about right now.

“You called, I came. Now what is going on?” you repeated, hoping that the more you asked, eventually someone would tell you why you’d left your home this late.

Sam’s clear desperation was enough to get you here but it wasn’t going to be enough to keep you here if someone didn’t start talking.

“The British Men of Letters are killing hunters” Dean interrupted, coming up behind you with a cold beer in each hand, one for you and the other for him.

It was meant to be dealt with more gently, at least in Sam’s mind but Dean knew you well enough to know you weren’t going to wait around to talk them down.

You were more like him in that regard.

If it were up to you,each and every one of them were going to die and it was as simple as that. If they were causing any sort of harm to your people, it didn’t matter who they were.

“So why are we here?” you asked, taking the bottle he offered you, though you were now too disturbed to have a sip. You were hunters, you literally tracked down monsters for a living but you were hiding from the British.

It didn’t make any sense.

“We have to keep everyone safe right now. That’s our first play and then we can plan a counterattack” Sam spoke finally, injecting himself into the conversation again.

He had seen this coming, inviting you here with Dean and the rest of the trigger happy hunters, but he couldn’t help it. This affected you just like it did the rest of them and he wasn't going to leave you out.

He cared for you too much to let something bad happen. You had already been through enough thanks to Sam and his brother. He wouldn’t have dragged you into this unless he had to.

...And he clearly had to.

“A counterattack? Shouldn’t we just find them and pull the trigger? There’s at least a dozen guns between you and Dean, not to mention everyone else here. It should be more than enough fire power”

That wasn’t going to work.

Sam knew that you had a point, and that would probably work but it wouldn’t be worth the potential loss just to neutralize the threat without thinking it through.

This was bigger than either of you individually and this had to be gone about the right way.

“Can I talk to you for a second? Over here” he asked, gesturing down the hallway toward where Jody and the girls rooms were. There was far more privacy there from all the lingering stares.

The only hope they had was all working together and Sam needed you to understand that. He needed you, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you first.

There was something in the air between you and it was only a matter of time before it bubbled up to the surface. You were putting on a brave face for their benefit but he knew how hard this was.

You had been hunting solo since the accident and you had gotten out of the family environment most hunters operated under. It was going to take some time to get used to again.

Not to mention the obvious tension between the two of you where the past was concerned. This would just be a lot smoother if you could have a conversation.

“What did you need to talk about Sam? It all seems pretty simple to me” you sighed, watching him close the door behind the two of you, your arms crossed your chest.

You felt like you were all just wasting time hiding from the enemy while you could be solving the problem instead. It didn't make any sense to you and now Sam wanted to have a conversation.

There were more pressing issues at hand.

“Just let that be for a second. I have to talk to you” he started, sitting down on Jody’s bed, waiting until you sat down beside him to continue.

It was all a little strange but you couldn’t help but feel as comfortable as you had with Sam before everything changed. He was still the same, and sometimes you didn’t want to admit that.

It was easier to avoid the entire thing completely.

That was part of why you hadn’t spoken to either of the Winchesters in all this time. It was a lot easier to just be alone, because when you were, it was just you.

You didn’t have to worry about losing anybody else when there was nobody else but Sam had thrown a wrench in that plan when he called you back into all this.

“I need to apologize to you, for everything with Shelby. She would still be here if I didn’t ask for your help”

There was something strange in the tone of his voice, something you didn’t like but it wasn’t because he was wrong. It was because you hadn’t heard or said her name in so long.

It felt wrong in just as many ways as it washed you with relief.

“She knew what she was doing. She wanted to help just like I did and it wasn’t your fault. Those hairy bastards did that, not you and not Dean” you sighed. You should have known this was coming.

Sam had never really gotten over what went down and he never would, unless you were somehow able to convince him to do so.

“Still. You needed us and we weren’t there for you, I wasn’t there for you” he tried now, seemingly desperate to say or do anything to take his part of the blame but you weren’t going to let him.

There was nothing he could have done and there was no way he could have known. Shelby agreed to be there knowing the consequences, and so did you. You were both adults and you weren’t going to talk any more about it.

“Stop worrying about that, and lets focus on protecting those people, okay Sammy boy?” you hummed, calling him by that old nickname he hadn’t heard in so long.

It was nice to hear you say it again, and made him happy. Still, it wasn’t until you leaned over and hugged him that he really felt better about the whole thing.

“Everyone loses people Sam. It’s our job to make sure that we don’t lose any more”