#i tried on some wider leg ones and 'mom' jean types

[shiningwonho]

i bought a couple pairs of non-skinny jeans today for the first time in.........probably a couple decades LMAO

[dindjarindiaries]

Fall

summary: You spend the fall season falling in love with Frankie.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales x f!reader

warnings: loads of fluff, mentions of death if you squint

rating: R

word count: 6.165k

masterlist

The day you meet Frankie Morales, you fall for him—literally.

It happens at the local orchard when you’re picking apples like you always do when the season comes around. You usually stop by a few times to collect a large share of apples, cooking them into any recipes you can—apple pie, apple crisp, apple cake, literally anything. It’s one of your favorite parts of the fall, along with the changing colors of the leaves and the cool breeze that forces you to wear just one more layer than you’re used to after the summertime.

This time, however, you’re climbing one of the wooden ladders to reach the good apples near the top of a tree when its leg falls into a dip in the ground, causing it to sway and you to go with it. You let out a gasp and try to grip onto something, but it’s all out of your reach. You brace yourself for an embarrassing moment when you hit the ground and the other onlookers have to stare at you uncomfortably, but instead, you’re secured by a gentle grip on your waist. When you turn your head to observe your savior, you almost want to fall again.

Warm, charcoal eyes peek out from under a baseball cap, wide and expressive enough to reveal his concern for your well-being yet his amusement at what could’ve happened. There’s a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, the hint of a dimple appearing within his scruff. “I guess that’s why they call the season ‘fall,’ huh?” the man jokes, his voice slightly raspy as he chuckles softly. He doesn’t release his hold on you until you’re safe on the ground again, tipping his cap and then stuffing his hands into his pockets afterwards. “You alright?” His brow is knitted in concern still.

You laugh and nod, cheeks growing hot as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, just wasn’t expecting that,” you admit. You then raise an eyebrow at him. “Not sure I’ve recovered from that dad joke of yours, though.”

The man laughs heartily, the sound of it warming your chest as you laugh with him. “That’s why my buddies call me the dad friend, I guess.”

You smile at him. “Well, what do I get to call you?”

He smiles wider, reaching out one of his hands for you to shake. “Frankie—Frankie Morales.”

You introduce yourself as you shake his hand, relishing in how warm it feels as it grips yours securely yet gently in his. He pulls away and you oddly find yourself missing the touch, watching as it retreats back into the pocket of his jeans. You further observe the green flannel he’s got on with the sleeves pushed past his elbows and the boots on his feet, admiring the way he dresses for the season. “Thanks for saving my ass, Frankie.”

Frankie’s eyes widen a bit at you. “Of course. I wouldn’t trust those little wooden shits for my life, and I’ve had to do a lot of crazy things.”

You raise an eyebrow yet again in curiosity. “A lot of crazy things, huh? Well, now I’ve got to hear about them.”

Another smile appears on Frankie’s lips as he gestures towards the basket hanging from your arm. “Mind if I join you, then?”

You happily accept, and for the rest of your time at the orchard, you walk along with Frankie and get to know him better. You learn that most of the “crazy things” he’d mentioned were due to his time spent in the Delta Force along with the aforementioned buddies he’d met while serving. He tells you a few brief stories of things that went down, either on the job or with his friends. You confess that you’ve never been the perfectly innocent type, either, recounting some of your wild stories that have Frankie admitting he feels a little better about things he’s either done or had to witness.

You’re actually saddened by the time you wrap up your apple-picking, and you can tell Frankie feels the same way. He carries your bags to your car for you, saying that he knows you’re more than capable of taking them yourself but insisting that it’s how he was raised and that he really doesn’t mind. You exchange numbers and invite him over to your apartment later in the week to enjoy something baked with these apples. Frankie eagerly accepts and assures you that he’ll keep in touch. He stays true to his word, shooting you a text as soon as he gets home.

For the next few days, you talk nonstop, even going to the point where you’re texting more at your work desk than you probably should. When the night of Frankie’s visit comes, you’ve completely decked out your apartment, getting your best dish sets clean as you finish setting up the white fairy lights around your cabinets. The apple crisp you’ve decided to bake is already in the oven and making the apartment smell of cinnamon and nutmeg when you hear Frankie buzz up. You call him in and open the door when he arrives, unable to keep yourself from smiling as you let him in. He’s wearing that same baseball hat and you wonder if it’s a signature part of his look. There’s dark hair that curls out from under it and it reminds you of the cinnamon you’ve sprinkled on the dessert.

“Whatever you’re making smells heavenly,” Frankie confesses when he seats himself at your kitchen island.

You thank him as you stand across from him, leaning your elbows against the counter and meeting his warm and easygoing gaze. “It’s my mom’s famous apple crisp.”

Frankie’s eyes brighten at that. “Pardon my French, but I fuckin’ love apple crisp.”

You laugh a bit. “That’s good, then, because there’s a lot of it.”

“That’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t remember the last time I got to have a homemade dessert like this.”

You frown a bit upon hearing that. “Really?”

Frankie shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, my parents don’t live in the area, and none of the guys are really star bakers, so…”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you don’t bake? At all?” When Frankie shakes his head, you gasp dramatically. “Oh, there’s so many simple recipes you could make—like this!”

Frankie smiles at your enthusiasm. “I guess you’ll just have to show me a few of them sometime.”

You return his smile. “I guess so.” You’re just about lost in his eyes when the timer on your oven goes off, making you jump as your hand flies up to press against your chest. You let out an embarrassed giggle as you head over to the oven, slipping on your mit and pulling out the dessert. “Jesus, that scared me.”

“Sorry,” Frankie apologizes with a chuckle. “I can be a little… distracting.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” There’s a hint of amusement in your voice as you look at Frankie over your shoulder. He’s observing your movements with such warmth and admiration that you’re sure the oven-heated pan wouldn’t feel as warm as your chest does now. You hear a shuffle of footsteps and look again to see Frankie walking over to where you’ve set the pan down onto the counter, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you as he observes your creation.

“So, what’d you do to make this masterpiece?” Frankie questions, his tone full of honest curiosity as his gaze shifts from the dessert to you.

“Real simple,” you assure him, your hand floating over the dessert as you point out the different ingredients. “Butter, brown sugar, flour, old-fashioned oats, cinnamon, and nutmeg, all mixed together in a bowl. You crumble that topping over some sliced apples and voila!” You gesture to the pan, making Frankie chuckle with a nod of understanding. “If you really wanna be fancy and add some extra flavor, you can also soak the apple slices in cinnamon and nutmeg before adding the topping.”

Frankie raises a curious eyebrow as he nods. “Wow. That does seem pretty simple.”

You reach for the plates you’d already set out and start to dish out the servings. “Yeah—it’s quick and easy, and I’m sure your friends would go wild for it.”

Frankie scoffs. “Oh, yeah, they’d eat anything.” You laugh as Frankie gestures towards the dishes. “How can I help you?”

“There’s no need, Frankie,” you assure him as you shake your head.

“Please,” Frankie insists, his dark eyes pleading for you to let him do something.

You sigh yet smile at his sheer kindness, gesturing towards your fridge and freezer. “If you want to top it with some vanilla ice cream, I’ve got some in the freezer.”

“Perfect.” Frankie sets off in that direction without hesitation, reaching inside and pulling out the carton of ice cream for you. He sets it down on the counter next to the pan, gesturing to your small drawers to wordlessly question where he can find the scooper. You point to one just below where he’s placed the carton, and he retrieves it easily as he takes the plates from you and adds a generous scoop onto each one. You set forks on each plate, smiling in satisfaction once you’ve finished. You both navigate your ways back to the counter, you continuing to stand across from Frankie as you dig in with caution thanks to its temperature. When Frankie gets his first bite in, he closes his eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the taste while the hand not holding his fork dances in the air. “Wow.” Frankie reopens his eyes and you laugh at how much they’re sparkling. “This is… I don’t even know how to describe it other than magical.”

Your cheeks heat up as you laugh again. “Oh please,” you demur, picking at your next scoop as you try to bite back your smile. “It’s not me, just the apples.” Your gaze lifts back up to him as you finally let your smile give way. “Your company while picking probably made them taste a lot sweeter.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to blush at that, and he tries to hide it by taking another bite. You watch his hand readjust the cap on his head. “Almost as sweet as you.” Frankie smiles in victory when he notices your shy demeanor in response. After a few moments of comfortable silence while you eat, Frankie clears his throat, pushing his plate away a bit once he finishes. “Listen,” he begins, his voice soft. “I really liked this dessert and I really like you.” His gaze looks into yours hopefully. “Can I take you on a proper date soon?”

You smile warmly as you nod in response. “I’d love that, Frankie.” You take his plate for him and earn a genuine thank-you, carrying the plates to the sink and washing them off. Not surprisingly, you hear Frankie’s footsteps soon following after you, and he picks up your drying rag to dry the dishes after you clean them. “Though… I am a little offended that you wouldn’t consider this a ‘proper date.’” Your tone makes it clear that you’re kidding, but a look of fear still crosses over Frankie’s features as he looks down at you.

“No! I just—you know, I’d like to treat you. To something really nice. Not that this isn’t really nice, but I—.”

“Frankie, it’s alright,” you cut him off with a laugh, handing him the last dish to be dried as you look up at him with a bright smile. “I was joking. I know what you meant. And this has been very nice.” A look of slight embarrassment now covers Frankie’s face, and you release a chuckle as you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. It flushes red not long after, and you bite back a smile at his adorably shy behavior.

Frankie stays for another hour or so as you make easy conversation, planning for him to come pick you up this weekend to take you on his “proper date” to the local pumpkin patch. It’s an adorable selection and you find yourself gleeful at the thought of him embracing the season so openly. You’ve always loved the season and to see Frankie share that same passion for it with you makes you more joyful than you could’ve thought. You anticipate the date for the rest of the week—and, judging by the frequent and enthusiastic texts you share with Frankie, so does he. You practically skip out the door when Frankie finally texts you he’s arrived, your oversized sweater bouncing as you make your way to his truck. He gets out to open the door for you and you shake your head at his never-ending, gentleman-like behavior.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you joke once Frankie gets back into his side of the truck. He chuckles as he starts down the road.

“I just can’t help treating a woman like you with the utmost respect,” Frankie retorts, his honesty evident in his tone. “Well, and any woman. But you especially.”

You smile as you never look away from him. “I see you drank your respect women juice this morning.”

Frankie laughs, giving you a quick look full of amusement and admiration. “Every day. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

You make more playful banter and fun conversation as you soon arrive at the pumpkin patch. Frankie helps you down from the truck and leads you to the wooden box that serves as an entry point, paying for both your fees no matter how many times you try to force the cash into his hands. Once your hands are stamped and you’re inside, you stay close alongside him, your arm brushing against his with every movement. You hope he gets the hint and he does, entwining his hand with yours in a way that makes your entire body go warm.

“So, what do you wanna do first?” Frankie asks, looking down at you with a soft smile.

You shrug and look around. “I’ll do anything,” you confess. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

Frankie chuckles. “Everything.”

You shake your head at him. “C’mon, Frankie. There’s gotta be something you like the most out of it all.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to shrug as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “I swear, I love everything.”

You laugh. “Alright. Then I’m making the executive decision to get cider donuts.”

Frankie laughs with you. “I support that.”

After having to fight Frankie to pay once again—and failing—and finding a seat at one of the wooden picnic benches, you both enjoy your donuts as you keep your hands folded together underneath the table. You sit in comfortable silence while you eat, looking out and watching the parents who try to keep their kids under control and the teenagers who try to pretend they’re not on a date but obviously are. You chuckle as you finish and point out a nearby duo who’s standing awkwardly far apart to Frankie. “How much do you wanna bet those two are gonna end up dating by the end of the night?”

Frankie raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, they look pretty awkward. But I feel like I know better than to try to make a bet with you. You’re too smart.” Your cheeks grow warm, especially as Frankie looks over at you and furrows his brow. He lifts his free hand but hesitates. “You have, uh—” he gestures to your mouth before adding, “—do you mind if I…?” He reaches his free hand further again, and you nod once as he brushes his thumb along the corner of your mouth, no doubt wiping away a few pieces of sugar that lingered there. Your face gets even hotter, now, your gaze watching his own observe you with such admiration that you can practically feel your heart flying out of your chest. He lets his thumb fall to your chin as he looks all over your face, a smile growing on his lips. “You’re really beautiful, you know.”

Your gaze falls to your entwined hands as you try to bite back a smile. “Thank you,” you reply honestly, only looking back up once his hand leaves your face. You see his dark eyes glittering in a way that makes your smile impossible to hide any longer. “You should know that the day we met, I almost fell again when I saw you.”

Frankie blushes and shakes his head at you. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious!” You laugh as you and Frankie stand up from the bench, throwing out your garbage and walking leisurely through the patch hand-in-hand. “If I had, it would’ve been a much better cause than that hunk of wood.”

“That’s true,” Frankie agrees, a playful smile on his lips. “But without that ‘hunk of wood,’ we wouldn’t have met.”

“Fair point.” You give his hand a squeeze as you smile to yourself. “Guess I’m gonna have to thank that thing one day.” You stop when you realize you’re a few paces away from the corn maze, and you look up at Frankie excitedly as you gesture to it. “Wanna go through the maze?”

Frankie watches your excitement with pure admiration as he nods. “Let’s go for it.”

He walks with you inside the entrance, his hand never leaving yours as you walk around together. Turns out that he’s quite the guide as you go around, and you figure that it probably has something to do with his military training. You’re sure that you’re bound to get out fast, but after ten more minutes of turning and walking, you realize you’re further in and not even that close to the exit. You can’t help giggling as you stand on your tiptoes in a lame attempt to look over the corn. “I think we’re lost, Frankie.”

Frankie shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe I wasn’t trying to get us out.”

You scoff, turning to give him an incredulous look that makes him laugh. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d lead me into a cornfield to murder me on our first date. I thought we’d at least make it to the second one before that happened.”

Frankie laughs harder and shakes his head. “I won’t hurt you,” he assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s just… a little more private out here.”

You raise an eyebrow, ready to question him as to why he wants privacy when you hear a sudden rustling in some of the nearby stalks. You nearly jump into Frankie’s arms, bracing your free hand against his chest as you watch the stalks shake—convinced that someone’s about to jump out of them. Your moment of panic subsides when a squirrel trots out from the stalks, moving quickly across to the group of stalks that are facing your back. You let out a sigh of relief as you laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “I’m so sorry. I guess I’m just easy to scare.”

“That’s fine. I’m quick to protect.” You look up at Frankie upon hearing his sweet words, watching as his dark gaze observes you affectionately from under his hat. His gaze falls to your lips for a quick moment, returning to your eyes soon after. Your fingers drum against his chest as you raise an eyebrow up at him.

“So, about that privacy…” you trail off as you bite back a smile, looking to his lips as he’d done to you before.

You watch Frankie smile wide enough to reveal his dimple before his free hand cups your cheek, easing his face closer to yours until his lips touch yours. The kiss is gentle and sweet, just like the Frankie you’ve come to know, and you can still taste the faint remnants of apple cider and cinnamon and sugar on his mouth as it moves softly with your own. Frankie pulls away for a moment but stays close, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he observes your gaze closely. When he sees it glowing just as much as his own, he goes in for another, this time letting it deepen as he gently eases your body against his. You part your lips to let him in more, craving the sweet taste of him. Your fingers pick lightly at the curls peeking out from under his hat, wishing they could thread fully through his hair but knowing that time will come eventually. Your stomach is fluttering practically as much as the tops of the corn stalks in the wind when you pull away, your smiles wide and full of nothing but pure joy and affection for each other.

“It was a good choice to get lost,” you say in a hushed voice, running one of your hands along the scruff on his jaw. Frankie chuckles softly at you. “But I think we should get out before we get reported like two horny teenagers.”

Frankie laughs harder at that, nodding to agree as he lets you separate yourself from him. He holds tight to your hand again, and you let your free arm wrap around his as he leads you out of the maze for good this time. You finish the evening at the patch by selecting two pumpkins that you can each carve on a different night, and Frankie carries them to the truck for you as he helps you up. He takes you home and makes sure to walk you up and give you a goodnight kiss along with a promise to come the next evening to carve the pumpkins.

He, of course, follows up on that promise, and your time spent together becomes more and more frequent as the season progresses. Soon, you’re seeing him almost every evening, whether it’s him coming over to your place, you going to his, or him taking you somewhere for dinner or just to look out at the beautiful, changing nature. The more you get to know Frankie, the sweeter you find him to be, fully learning just how selfless he is and how eager he is to lavish you with affection. If you show any evidence of you being cold, he’ll either wrap his arm around you or give you his jacket right away. If you seem tired, he’ll offer his shoulder for you to rest upon. If you’re upset, he’ll let you talk for hours, even offering to bake you something you’ve taught him to make. Frankie’s mastered your apple crisp recipe to become even better than yours, and you can’t complain about it. He’ll never admit it, but you know it’s true.

One of your favorite nights is when Frankie takes you on a haunted hayride. You’re not a huge fan of them, but remembering his words about protecting you, you decide it’ll be fine and he won’t let anything happen to you. Thankfully, this isn’t the type of haunted hayride where they can reach out and grab you, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s the jump scares that get you most of the time, and while you hold Frankie’s hand and arm the whole time, you often find yourself hiding your face in his shoulder while he assures you he’s got you and you’re okay. It’s usually uttered between laughs and you don’t mind—especially when Frankie accidentally gets scared so bad by one masked man who jumps out of a tree that he yelps like a surprised child. You laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and Frankie just shakes his head as he chuckles along with you. By the end of the night, you’re still buzzing with anticipation and fearing a random thing jumping out at you, so Frankie agrees to stay the night with you at your apartment just so you can feel secure enough in his arms to sleep.

When Halloween rolls around, Frankie tells you that you’ve been invited to go with him to a party hosted by his best friends. You’ve heard so much about them and this will be your first time meeting them. Thankfully, Frankie tells you it’s not a costume party, so you don’t have to worry about being dressed up as someone else when you meet them. You find yourself feeling a bit nervous as you get ready for the occasion, though, wanting to impress the guys who Frankie has repeatedly told you are like family to him. You dress as nice as you can without looking as if you’re going overboard, wrapping up your light application of makeup as soon as you get the text that Frankie’s arrived. You meet him outside to see him already leaning against the truck with his arms crossed over his chest, and they unfold slowly as he stands up straight to meet you. Frankie’s hands wrap around your waist as his widened gaze observes you fondly.

“You look gorgeous,” Frankie tells you, his voice soft as he places a kiss in greeting against your lips. “I mean, you always do, but tonight you look especially incredible.” You thank him quietly, giving him another kiss before pulling away to let him open the door for you. You hop inside and wrap your hand in his as soon as he joins you again, your entwined hands resting on your thigh as he starts off towards Santiago’s house. Frankie takes a quick look over at you, long enough for you to clearly see the way he’s reading you so easily—as always. “You nervous?”

You shrug, trying to play it off but knowing better thanks to Frankie’s keen way of knowing you. “A little,” you confess with a light sigh. “I just—I know how much they mean to you and I want them to approve of me.”

“Approve of you?” Frankie scoffs lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they already adore you. When they actually see you in person, they’ll just go crazier over you.” He gives you another look of reassurance. “And even if, in some weird alternate universe, they didn’t ‘approve’ of you, I wouldn’t give a shit.”

You can’t help smiling at that, and you squeeze his hand in thanks. You remain in comfortable silence for the rest of the drive, taking a deep breath once Frankie pulls into the driveway. He carries the drinks he’s contributing in one hand and keeps your hand tight in his with the other, not even bothering to knock on the door as he pushes your way inside. Almost as soon as you walk in the house, you’re met with cheers of delight and excitement as the guys come up one-by-one. They greet Frankie first and then you, and by the time you’ve sifted through all four of them, you already feel much more at ease. Santiago even invites you into the kitchen with him, and Frankie urges you to go on as you follow him away from the rest of the guys.

“You know, you’re pretty much a legend around here already,” Santiago tells you, a smile tugging at his lips as he invites you to sit at his counter while he finishes cooking up dinner. You laugh and shake your head, watching as he works skillfully. “I just thought I’d get you in here because, well, as I’m sure Frankie’s already warned you, the guys can be pretty… overbearing at first.”

“Yeah, I did get that warning,” you reply, chuckling more as you sip at a glass of water Santiago had offered you before. “But they all seem very sweet, too.”

“And fucking loud.” Santiago’s words are followed by a string of random exclamations from the dining room where the guys are gathered, and he looks at you with a raised brow that practically says See what I mean?

You snicker. “I’m surprised—Frankie’s pretty quiet himself.”

Santiago hums in agreement. “He keeps us all in check. That’s why he’s the dad friend.”

“Oh, right. He’s told me all about that.”

“Really?”

You nod, watching as Santiago views you with an amused eye. “It was one of the first things he told me.”

Santiago stops what he’s doing to look up at you again. “Really?”

You nod again, this time with a light laugh. “I mean, his first words to me were a total dad joke, so…”

Santiago laughs, giving his head a shake as he looks back to what he’s cooking. “Bless your heart for letting him continue, then.”

You smile as you reflect on the moment when it all began. “I couldn’t resist. It was actually really charming to me.”

Santiago lets out a dramatic aww, causing you to giggle and shake your head as you take another sip of your water. As Santiago starts to finish up the meal, you move to rise from your seat, wanting to help him.

“What can I do to help?” you ask.

Almost immediately, you’re shot down as Santiago shakes his head and gestures for you to sit back down. “I really appreciate it, but don’t worry, you’re alright. I never make my guests work. Only those little shits.” He gestures with the utensil in his hand towards the boisterous dining room that’s hidden by a wall. You chuckle and nod in understanding, letting yourself relax back into your seat as he continues to work. “Actually, your boyfriend should be coming to ask me for help any minute now.”

As if on cue, Frankie pops out from around the corner of the wall, his hand resting on it as he looks to his friend with a lifted brow. “Need some help, Pope?” Santiago nods and gestures towards a platter that’s already been put together on the countertop you’re sitting at. Frankie smiles warmly at you as he walks over, pausing before picking up the platter to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Having fun so far, babe?” You nod, and Frankie jerks his head in Santiago’s direction. “He’s not annoying you too much yet, is he?”

“Oh, fuck you, Fish,” Santiago scoffs, causing Frankie to laugh as he starts to pick up the platter. “She’s great company.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Frankie agrees, throwing you a sly wink before he heads off to the dining room. You shake your head and follow, taking your seat beside Frankie as the dinner commences.

Frankie keeps a hand on your thigh to settle you as the guys begin to pester you with questions, but you don’t mind. You entertain them well and they seem to really enjoy your company, which you know brings a wide smile to Frankie’s face as he listens in. By the end of the night, you’re sharing drinks and laughing so hard you have to double over a few times, already being asked when Frankie will bring you by again. You promise them that there’s plenty of time left, and when Frankie announces that he’s taking you home, they all take the time to say a warm goodbye along with a reinforced statement to Frankie that you better be in for the long run. You already feel like a part of their little family as you leave, and Frankie shares his joy with you over this on the drive back.

“I’ve never seen them so excited over one of our girlfriends before,” Frankie confesses excitedly, his hand giving yours a squeeze. “I mean, I knew they were gonna love you, but they’ve practically adopted you into the family already.”

You smile warmly as you return his squeeze. “I feel honored. They’re great, Frankie, really. I can see why you love them so much.”

Frankie looks at you jokingly, a playful smile on his lips. “Oh boy, should I be worried, babe? Am I gonna have to compete?”

You laugh heartily. “No, Frankie, you won’t. They’re all great, but—” you pause as you lean over to kiss his cheek, “—you’ll win me over time and time again.”

Frankie blushes a bit as he smiles wider, his dimple popping out and making your heart soar as you finish the drive to your apartment.

When the season starts coming to a close, Frankie takes you out for a weekend camping trip, wanting to use as much of the lasting relatively-warm weather as he can. You hike around the scenery during the day and sit by the fire at night. Frankie always makes sure you have as many layers as you need to stay warm, and during those cold nights, he always keeps an arm around your shoulders and—inside your tent—he holds you as close to him as possible. It’s the last night now, and you’ve been sitting at the fire reflecting on your pasts and how they’ve led you to this very moment, to each other.

“Fall was always my favorite season,” you tell Frankie, head leaning against his shoulder as he keeps an arm around you.

“Really?” Frankie remarks, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as you nod at him. “I’ve always been more of a summer guy.”

You look up at him with a small smile. “I can see that.”

Frankie laughs, kissing your head before he continues. “The fall has always been a favorite of mine, though. I guess I just never got to experience it the right way with someone I loved—until now.”

Your heart nearly flies out of your chest at his words, and you look back up at Frankie again to meet his warm and affectionate gaze. It practically melts you into a puddle as your jaw drops at him. “Is that your way of telling me you’re in love with me, Frankie?”

Frankie shrugs, his thumb now running down the length of your arm as he searches your eyes almost anxiously. You smile and reach a hand up to grab one of his cheeks, pulling his face to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You try to show him all the things you want to say in the kiss, proving to him that you feel the same way as your mouth moves with his in such a sweet and familiar manner. When you pull away, your gaze never leaves his as you brush your nose against his.

“I love you, too.”

Frankie smiles wide and releases a soft chuckle, placing another quick kiss upon your lips as he stays close. “I kinda figured.” You laugh as his free hand runs over the side of your face. His dark eyes sparkle with a new light, now, half-mischievous and half-desiring. He waits a few beats before he voices his thoughts. “Listen, remember when I told you about all the crazy things I had to do and would rather do than climb a flimsy wooden ladder?” You giggle at him and nod. “Well, how would you feel about adding to that crazy list?”

You raise your brow at him. “Depends. What do I have to do?”

Frankie breaks his gaze with you briefly to look up at the dark sky, and you follow to see a clearing in the surrounding trees that puts the autumn stars on full display. He then meets your eyes again with his usual warmth. “How would you feel about making love with me under these stars tonight?”

You try to bite back a smile at his proposition, lips brushing over his as you give your answer. “I think the only crazy thing about that is you thinking there would be a possibility of me saying no.”

Frankie chuckles softly as he fully places his mouth against yours, and in the sweetest and most passionate of ways, you add an item to his list of crazy things that night, but not without Frankie making sure you’re tucked in the warmth of his body and at least three layers of blankets when you finally drift off to sleep.

You realize the fall’s truly coming to a close the day you and Frankie start moving into your new apartment together. Frankie’s just reached for the last box in his truck when you realize snow’s starting to fall from the sky, and you look at him in disbelief. “The fall’s really over already, huh?” you ask him, watching as he smiles at you from behind the box he’s carrying.

Frankie nods, stopping beside you to plant a kiss on your forehead. “The winter’s here,” he reinforces your statement. “Good thing you’ll have me here to keep you warm. I know you’ll miss the fall, though.”

You shrug and smile up at him. “It won’t really be over when I’m falling for you basically everyday.”

Frankie rolls his eyes playfully as he chuckles. “Who’s the one with the dad jokes, now?”

You laugh and reach up to kiss him softly. “I learned from the best.”

When you look into Frankie’s dark and loving gaze, you realize that this is the exact moment where you’re finally feeling grateful for almost falling off that wooden ladder—and right into Frankie’s arms.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin

[rina-writes]

Read This

Summary: You, a long term friend of the twins, notice that Ethan has been acting strange.  After beating around the bush for a couple months, Grayson breaks down and tells you what’s going on. You decide to show Ethan something that you never intended for him to read...

A/N: When I started this side blog, I wanted to make it such that it would only feature my writing of who I am obsessed with at the time. I really wanted to comment Ethan’s battle with acne, but didn’t want to take away from the purpose of this blog. So, I put it in this short fic. I hope you all enjoy!

You could see the concern in Grayson’s face as you trudged toward Ethan’s room, your long cardigan flowing majestically behind you with the quick movement. Grayson lurched forward to grab your wrist and you looked at him with a frown.

“I don’t think you understand the state that E is in right now.” Grayson said, looking at the ground instead of meeting your eyes. “I know you’re a fan of tough love, but I don’t think this is the greatest time for it.”

“Grayson, I’m not an asshole.” You said, pulling your arm away from him.  “I’m not here to kick him when he’s down...I just want him to see something that I wish I had seen in my most insecure moments.”

Grayson seemed hesitant.  You couldn’t blame him.  The three of you were usually goofballs, pranking each other and roasting each other whenever you got the chance. It was weird for you to see Grayson so serious and using an inside voice.  It was weirder not seeing Ethan at his side. It felt like the world was topsy turvy enough with everything going on, to see your friend group shattered as well pushed you to want to do something about it. 

“I’m giving you 10 minutes.” Grayson said after some thought with a sigh.  “But, leave the door open.”

“Okay, mom!” You punched his arm, playfully. 

Grayson wagged a finger at you putting on his best scolding face before laughing softly.  He gestured for you to go up the stairs and you nodded, turning from him. 

The walk to Ethan’s room felt longer than usual.  You realized it was because you were a bit nervous and it caused you to drag your feet.  You took a deep breath and added some pep in your step.  This wasn’t the big bad wolf, this was one of your closest friends. If you went in with that mindset, this whole thing was for naught.

As you got closer to Ethan’s room, surprised to see the door already open.  You knocked on the door gently as you walked in.  You frowned seeing Ethan laying in bed, his head pressed against a pillow with his eyes glued to his phone.  He looked paler than you’ve ever seen him and his hazel eyes glossed over as though he was in his own dream world.

“Hey, it’s me.” You said, walking toward him. You tried to put a bit of normalcy in your voice. You hoped he didn’t hearing it quiver.

“Hey...” Ethan said, not enthusiasm in his voice.  He didn’t really move. His head was still pressed to the pillow, but he used his feet to clear a space on the bed for you to sit. 

“Oh wow the royal treatment.” You grinned. You walked over to him and he turned away slightly.

“Uh, I should let you know, my face is kind of a mess right now.” Ethan said, his words muffled slightly.

You sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him. You could barely see his face, but from what you could see, it didn’t look that bad.  If he didn’t bring it up, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Ethan, you’re talking to me.” You pointed at yourself.  “If I didn’t apologize for literally every hair disaster I had in the last four years, you shouldn’t apologize for this.”

“They weren’t THAT bad...” Ethan said, finally locking his phone, but still avoiding your eyes.

“Your mom and the other hair stylists staged an intervention because of my last dye job.” You leaned forward and narrowed your eyes. “They emptied the store and had chairs in a circle like freaking Alcoholics Anonymous.”

Ethan laughed softly, a sound you realized that you had missed from the moment you entered the room. 

“The chairs were such a nice touch.” Ethan joked doing the ‘chef’s kiss’ motion with his hands. “I wish I could take credit for it, but pretty sure it was someone at the salon.”

“My point is...”  You said, moving right along as you resisted the urge to touch your hair now just to check if it was okay. You smiled, “...we’re friends, Ethan. We don’t have to apologize for things like this...”

Ethan went silent.  You gulped worried that you went too far already. Now you understood why Grayson was acting they way he was downstairs.  You wondered how many times they argued and how many times they shut each other out over the past couple of months.  With them, there were two kinds of fighting. There was the fighting when they were both yelling and pushing each other.  That was the norm.  But, then there was the fighting where they both spoke in the quietest of voices. Where they didn’t make eye contact and only said a few words, usually sandwiched with swears. These were the arguments that worried you most because it usually meant one or both of them was hurting.

“I want to show you something.” You said, pulling out your phone from the front pocket of your jean shorts.

For the first time since you walked in, Ethan looked at you. This also meant that this was the first time you got a good look at him. He did look bad, but not because of his skin. His eyes looked so cold. It was like he was staring through you. You’ve seen him beam at complete strangers and now, he was staring at you like you were invisible. 

You controlled your reaction, not wanting him to misunderstand your surprise. You softened your face, but dared not smile. He would be able to see through a phony grin. You looked own at your phone and started to get ready to show him what you planned.

“Grayson doesn’t let me see Twitter.” He said, before glancing away. “If that’s what you’re going to do...”

“Well, thank goodness I’m showing you Tumblr then.” You said, still looking at your screen as you typed in your search.

“Here...” You handed it to him and Ethan took your phone.

“What is this?” He asked, squinting at the brightness of your screen. At the top was ‘ethan dolan’ which searched all the Ethan Dolan tags on Tumblr.

“It’s the top results for Ethan Dolan on Tumblr.” You said, resting your hands on your lap.  “I looked it up a long time ago to tease you guys.  As you can see there are a lot of edits and stuff, but there’s also fan fiction.”

“I’ve read this stuff.” Ethan said, handing it back to you. “Clearly, you don’t watch our videos.”

There was a hint of a smile as he teased you. With it, you saw a glimmer of the Ethan Dolan you were waiting to emerge.  Baby steps.

“Trust me.” You said pushing the phone back towards him. “This is nothing like you have ever read before.”

“You don’t even know which one I’m going to read.” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Your fans are a lot more...eh, mature in their writing now.” You blushed softly. “Trust me.”

Ethan looked annoyed, but he decided to read one of them.  You watched uncomfortably as his face turned redder and redder. 

“Why am I spitting on her?” In the most deadpan voice, Ethan broke the silence and asked, looking at you.

“Oh my god!” You yelled, getting embarrassed. “I don’t know! I didn’t write it.”

“Do people think I’m that mean?” Ethan asked, looking back at the phone. “That I’d choke my girlfriend because she said that she was going to go ask Grayson to take care of her. Like OKAY, you do that...”

You snickered. As if Ethan would have such a chill reaction to something like that.

“Oh come on, E.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re not innocent...you know what fetishes are and that some people like being dominated.”

“Are you saying some people because you mean yourself?” Ethan quirked a brow, looking at you with a smug expression.

He was totally messing with you! You have been upset if you weren’t completely relieved

You narrowed your eyes, not giving away you position. “Anyway...now, I want you to go to the recent tab.”

You watched Ethan’s eyes search the screen and then his thumb move to the top of the screen to click on ‘Recent.’  He scrolled down more, his face turning more red.

“Well, that’s a very graphic description of my penis.” Ethan put your phone down and crossed his arms over his pillow, looking at you with a soft smile. “Did you come here to get laid?”

“Ugh, no!” You rolled your eyes.  “You’re missing the point...”

“You just had me read written porn about myself...I’m not sure anyone would get the point.” Ethan said, the smile on his lips getting wider as his eyes started to regain the playfulness you had grown to adore.

“What was the difference between the fics in the Top section and the Recent section?” You asked, trying to give him a hint.

“Oh, you’re so acquainted with them that you call them fics?” Ethan asked, leaning back. You could now see that he was shirtless, in long gray sweat shorts, his stomach and chest exposed as he laid back on his head board.

“Alright, that’s it.” You said, pretending to leave as you snatched your phone.

Ethan knew you were bluffing, but he was too nice to call you out on it.  “I’m sorry,” He gave you a little pout.  “Don’t go.”

“Answer the question...” You said, sitting back down and crossing your legs.

Ethan stuck his hand out to take your phone and you unlocked to hand it to him. He switched between the two tabs.

“Uh, the ones in the top are a lot dirtier, I guess?” He narrowed his eyes. “Not by much though.”

“Okay, what about the gifs and stuff?” You asked.  “Still seeing thirst comments?”

Ethan chuckled. “Yeah...about the same.”

“That’s kind of my point, E.” You took your phone and stared him down so he couldn’t look away.  “For your fans, you’re still so hot that they want you to choke them and make them beg for you. You’re still their soft boy that they want to spoon and pamper. You’re still their sweetheart that...in all honesty, was probably the first love for many of them. They haven’t noticed your pimples...E.”

Ethan opened his mouth to say something, but you put up a finger.  

“But they don’t know how bad it is.” You said in the deep, husky voice you use to imitate him along with your signature arm flex gestures.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “They really don’t. I mean look.” He pointed to his forehead.

“I’m going to lick it.” You said, lurching forward.

“HOLY --- Don’t you dare.” Ethan said, sticking out his foot to stop you.

You laughed, loudly and eventually, Ethan did as well.  

“Every time you say something like that’s I’m going to lick. Then you’ll have acne and my spit on you.” You stuck out your tongue.

“I’m going to have nightmares.” Ethan joked, smiling softly. 

You slapped his thigh and grinned. “Look, I’ve been kinda where you are.  With my skin, with my hair, with my weight...all of it.  I kept thinking I didn’t deserve to have fun until I looked perfect. All the while, the people around me didn’t even notice.  I bet you probably don’t even remember when I’m talking about...”

Ethan shook his head.  He turned his head to look out the window and then realization washed over his face.

Ethan paused for a moment. “I only remember that one day where you didn’t want to go to the beach and then someone told me it was because you didn’t want to go swimsuit shopping...I didn’t really get it at the time.  I was just upset because that was the first time we were going to hang out in months and it was the only time Gray and I were free.”

“That’s how I feel about this.” You smiled softly. “To me, Gray, your friends, your family, your FANS...” You pointed to your phone. “We don’t get why you don’t want to come to the beach.  We don’t give two hoots how you look in the swimsuit, we just miss you.”

“I can’t say I feel 100% better.” Ethan admitted. “But, I’m feeling a little less...shitty.”

“A little less shitty. I’ll take that.” You smiled, standing up. 

“I half expected to come in here and slap me across the face.” Ethan laughed softly.

“Good god, do both Dolan Twins think I’m an asshole?” You put your hands on your hips. 

“Oh Tin Man, you do have a heart...” Ethan joked. 

You grabbed one of his pillows and hit him with it.  He grabbed another and hit you back, your laughter filling the room.

“Wanna get something to eat? Or at least go downstairs?” You asked. “You know how Gray gets when he’s left out.”

You imitated Gray hunched over and pouting looking at Ethan from the corner of your eye.

“Yeah...” Ethan smiled, getting off the bed and standing up.  “Imma tell him you did that.”

“Heh, do it.” You scoffed. “I’m not afraid him...Just uh, let me start my car.” 

You reached in your pocket to pull out your keys and pretended to remote start you car by pointing it at the window.

He gave you a tight hug.  “Thanks, kiddo. You’re not half bad most of the time.”

“Yup.” You said, hugging him back lightly.  “I’m the best, I know.”

“So be honest....” Ethan asked  “...how many of those fics of me have you read?”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What? Grayson, are you calling me?!” You yelled speed walking toward the door.

“Gray! Y/N is lusting after.” Ethan yelled, following you out the door.  “She’s prying on your brother in his moment of weakness.”

Grayson smiled as he heard you two thundering down.  9 mins and 35 seconds...not bad at all.

[calumance]

i feel like baby logan doesn’t get enough attention and maybe that’s just because he’s the middle child and middle child never get the same attention as the oldest or the youngest do but i can imagine logan actually being in a serious relationship with a girl (or a boy, we don’t judge) and they pay SO MUCH attention to him and he almost hates it cause he’s not used to it. i also imagine him getting away with a lot as a kid/teen as a result of eyes always being on aiden and bailey, lil rebel

I may have gone in a different direction than what you were originally thinking? I don’t know. I hope you like it though! (let me know if you want more 👀)

           Logan sat quietly at the breakfast table with a spoon in one hand and his phone in the other. Around him was utter chaos. His mom scrambling to get Bailey ready for school, his dad running rampant alongside Aiden who had dropped by to get help on a paper that he neglected write. Aiden had moved out almost two years ago to go to college but would drop by when he needed help with something. Which was almost every day. Logan looked down at his bowl of cereal and shook his head, it was like he never actually left. No one ever seemed to pay attention to Logan until it was time to go to school, then he was pushed into the car like a herd of cattle.

           When Logan and Bailey were dropped off at school, whichever parent that was driving would kiss Bailey goodbye and then vaguely yell towards Logan. He would turn and wave awkwardly back, but continue walking into the school, the only place he felt like he didn’t have to deal with the chaotic nightmare that was his home. The bell signaling the students had two minutes to make it to their class rang just as Logan shut his locker. As he weaved his arms through the straps of his backpack he turned. He jumped at the sight of Jack, the boy from his physics class that he struck up a friendship with and has found attractive for more than half the school year. “Hi, Logan,” Jack said with a sweet smile.

           Logan finished adjusting the straps of his backpack and swallowed, “Hi, Jack.” As the pair started walking down the hallway, Jack started to ramble on about something that happened with his family the night before. Although Logan was listening, his mind was elsewhere. Logan knew he was attracted to both girls and boys from a young age. And it wasn’t that he thought his parents would disapprove of his sexuality, it was more that he felt they didn’t care. His parents were always so busy with Bailey or other things, that Logan was always left in the background. Classic middle child syndrome.

           Jack stopped dead in his tracks and Logan lifted his head to see that they were at Logan’s classroom. “Anyway, what are you doing this weekend?” Jack asked clacking his heels together.

           Logan looked from inside the classroom to Jack and raised his eyebrows, “Uh, nothing. I think my dad is in the studio all day which means my mom will be preoccupied with my sister.” Logan cleared his throat and looked at his feet. Aiden probably wouldn’t be around either, the weekends is when he goes out to all of his college parties.

           “We should, maybe, go to dinner or something?” Jack swallowed in nervousness and suddenly Logan’s heart started to race.

           His heart was beating so fast that he had to look down to make sure it wasn’t jumping out of his chest. Logan nodded and looked back up at Jack, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

           “Great,” Jack said with a smile wider than Logan had ever seen. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.” Jack nodded and quickly walked down the hallway, reaching his classroom just as the bell sounded. Logan let out a breath and walked into the classroom.

           Home was still a chaotic nightmare even when Aiden wasn’t there. Almost every night his parents had someone at the house, and they always brought their kids, which were either much older or much younger than he was. Bailey was playing with some of the kids they considered cousins, while the other group were swimming in the pool. Rolling his eyes, not wanting to do either thing, he walked down the hallway to his bedroom and closed the door. Which is where he stayed until the next morning.

           It was quiet in the house which meant he could walk around without having to deal with the chaos. It was his favorite time to be home, it meant he could make himself some coffee and head into the backyard and just enjoy the time alone. Once everyone started to stir, he would sneak his way back inside and into his bedroom. Hiding away from everyone until it was time to get ready for what he considered a date.

           Logan looked at himself in the mirror. He had decided to dress a casual, but not t-shirt and jeans casual. He was wearing a denim button up that he left open but rolled the sleeves to his elbows and underneath was a plain white t-shirt. He pulled on a pair of black jeans and cuffed the legs so that just an inch of his ankles was showing. He topped the outfit off with a pair of white converse that he rarely wore and accessorized with a watch and some beaded bracelets his dad got him in Japan the last time they toured. As he sighed, accepting his outfit choice, he looked at his watch, then his phone. Jack was outside wondering if he should come in. Logan furiously typed a message back, “No, it’s okay. I’ll be right out.”

           After sliding his belongings into his pockets, he left his room and tried to find his parents. His mom and dad were in the living room. His dad had big headphones on, still being in writing mode from being in the studio all day, and his mom was reading a book. Logan cleared his throat, “I’m going out, I’ll be back later tonight.” His mom barely tore her eyes off her book as she reached her hand up and waved at him. He nodded and made his way to the front door, not a single other word being said to him.

           Logan shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked out the front door. Jack was leaning against his car, something in his hand. Jack smiled and pushed himself away from the car when he noticed Logan walking towards him. Once Logan reached Jack, he wrapped his arms around Logan, pulling him in for a bear hug. Feeling a bit unsure for a moment, Logan left his hands dangling in midair, but the seconds Logan smelled the intoxicating scent of Jack’s cologne, he gave in to the hug, and wrapped his arms around Jack’s middle. “I, uh, got you something.” Jack said as he pulled away from Logan. Jack handed him a black box with a silver bow on the top. “It’s not much, but I didn’t know if you liked flowers, so I got you this instead.”

           Logan swallowed the lump in his throat and started to open the box. Once he pried it open, he saw the silver band inside. Logan looked up at Jack and chuckled, “I thought you said it wasn’t much.”

           “It’s not, I found it at that store you told me you liked. The one at the mall that no one shops in.” Jack rocked back and forth on his feet, putting his hands in his pockets.

           Again, Logan chuckled. This time it was more because of how weird this all felt. He mentioned that store to Jack once, and he mentioned it to him months ago. “Thank you, I love it.” Logan finally choked out. Jack nodded and turned to open the passenger car door. After closing the door for Logan, Jack jogged around the front of the car and plopped into the driver’s seat, a smile on his face as he turned the engine over and pulled away from the house.

           They sat across from each other at the restaurant, laughter falling off both their lips. They had known each other for a while now, but this felt different, it felt real. “Why don’t you talk about your family that much?” Jack asked, placing the glass to his lips.

           A sigh escaped Logan’s chest as he sat back and looked away from Jack, “Because you could easily look up anything you want to know about my family on the internet.” It came out crude and harsh, but it was true.

           Jack nodded and pointed the conversation in a different direction, “What was it like growing up with a famous dad?” Jack put the glass down and it clunked against the clothed table.

           “I got away with a lot.” Logan smiled and suppressed a laugh, “My older brother is the star of the family, he is a carbon copy of my dad, so everyone loves him. My sister is the only girl in the family, so everyone loves her simply for that fact.” Logan twisted his glass between his fingers and took a deep breath, “I just exist. I’m a carbon copy of my mom, who was never famous, she’s only known because she’s been with my dad so long, and my parents are always super busy, and my siblings always manage to catch their attention first.” Logan looked up at Jack and smirked, “So, I tried to push the limits and see what I could do to get noticed. When I was younger, I would put random things in the grocery cart, then as I grew older, I started sneaking out, all kinds of stupid things. My parents never noticed. I don’t do those things now because I’m more mature than I was, but it was definitely fun while it lasted.” Jack laughed at Logan and held his glass towards Logan. They clinked their glasses together and continued talking the rest of the night.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0@wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria@treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday @talkfastromance4

**If your URL has a strike through it’s because it won't let me tag you ☹️

Ko-fi

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XIII

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, Steve implying that something happened to reader that didn’t, heavily implied homophobia, joke about diabetes (I’m at a very high risk to develop type one at some point, making jokes about is how I relieve the stress 🙃  )

• • •

December 31st 1983

The ceiling was spinning, and the crack in the door allowed a tiny sliver of light into the room that came over your body allowing for anyone who passed by the room to know you were in there. 

Drinking as much as you did was a terrible idea, and you knew that. But right now, you were supposed to be celebrating the turn of a new decade, making jokes about how the roaring twenties were back. But instead, you were drinking away the anger and malice you held against yourself in a different century. 

The heating in the stranger’s home made it unbearable to wear the corduroy jeans that seemed to be too popular in the women’s sections of stores, even if they were ugly. But they were comfy. 

You’d kicked off the jeans awhile ago, you didn’t know how long ago, and enjoyed the air that the fan was circulating through the room, feeling the uncomfortable heat inside your body beginning to leave with every gust of air that brushed over your legs. 

Closing your eyes you opted to try and get some sleep, hoping that when you woke up the ceiling would stop spinning. But you supposed that was a false dream, knowing that you’d probably wake up with a raging headache and sensitive to even the smallest sounds. 

A few of the girls who had tried to get you to stop drinking had put you in this room. That included the party thrower, Alison, and her boyfriend who got you into the guest bedroom with some difficulty and you almost falling out of their arms multiple times. You didn’t know how long ago that was either. 

Down the hall you could hear arguing, and heavy footsteps making their way down the hall. Bringing an arm over your face in an attempt to block out the light as the door was opened wider by someone. 

“Y/n, c’mon.” 

Uncovering your face you looked up and saw Steve grabbing your shoes. You didn’t have the mindset to do anything but stare at him with narrowed and annoyed eyes.

But his eyes were very observant right now. Because the moment he grabbed your shoes he saw your jeans laying by the foot of the bed. And he looked at you, seeing your bare legs. 

It was almost midnight, and Steve wasn’t doing much when he got the call from Alison, telling him you needed a ride home. 

Dropping your shoes he went to the side of the bed you were laying on and grabbed your face. “Y/n, what happened?”

“Hm?” It took you a moment to realize what he meant but when you did, you could physically feel yourself sober up an ounce or two. “Nothing happened, it was hot.” 

You watched him release a breath of relief, one that seemed like it was being held in worry. He let go of your head and helped you sit up. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?” You nodded a bit as he handed you your jeans.

Steve went to the door of the bedroom, closing the door and turning the light on. “No!” You complained covering your eyes from the bright light. 

“I can’t see in here, and I have a feeling you don’t want whoever walks by to see you in your underwear.” 

You squirted as you pulled your hands away and looked at Steve. “Who says I want you to see?” 

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, a silent way of saying ‘seriously?’ “You’re wobbling.”

“So?”

“You’re still sitting on the bed.”

“My dad always did say my head was too big for my body.” You got a small smile out of Steve as you slipped your legs into the jeans. He came back over to your side, taking your hand and helping you stand. 

You were leaning most of your weight into him, your shoulder against his chest while you pulled your jeans over your hips and buttoned them up. Steve sat you back down while he grabbed your shoes and came back over. 

“You’re my best friend,” You told him. “Ever!” You added with a childish grin as he kneeled down, slipping your shoes back onto your feet. 

“Well, If we’re best friends ‘ever’ then if I ever get this drunk you better do the same damn thing for me.” He told you, tying the laces on your shoes. 

“I’m your best friend too?” You flicked a strand of his hair that was out of place. 

He nodded a bit, “Don’t forget the ‘ever’ part.” He joked, finishing up on tying your shoes and helping you back up and wrapping an arm around your waist so you could lean into him for balance. 

February 15th 1984

“If my apartment ever gets raided and they find that, I’ll be the one to get arrested.” 

“Nonsense,”

“Steve,”

“Y/n?” 

The two of you stared at each other for a moment while the five of you stood in the center of the mostly empty living room, with boxes of furniture still sitting around the large room from the furniture store a few small towns over. The only reason why Jonathan and Will were over was because you needed to put it together. Well, Jonathan was there to help, Will was just there because Joyce was at work. 

Huffing a bit, you took the bat from him and pointed a finger at him. “If I ever stub my toe on this thing in the middle of the night and lose it, I’ll burn your curtains.”

Steve looked at you with real offense as you walked over to the closet in the living room, where most of your cleaning supplies were kept, and placed the bat in the corner, hoping that the nails didn’t scratch the wooden floors. 

“I like my curtains,” He mumbled a bit while Nancy rubbed his shoulder blade in a way to keep him from shooting a response back at you. 

Everyone thought that whenever the two of you threw insults back and forth at each other it was because you hated each other. But that was far from the truth. You argued like friends did, and teased each other like friends. It was all in good fun. 

“Your room looks like it hasn’t been redecorated since you were ten, and your mom did it.” 

Will laughed a bit while he sat in the swivel chair.

“She won’t let me redecorate.” he admitted. “But, speaking about decorating, are you just gonna use boxes of furniture as furniture?” 

You tilted your head a bit and shrugged. “Maybe, but if you guys wanna help me build my furniture I’d really appreciate it. Jonathan and I only share two braincells and they fight all the time.”

March 20th 1984

Holding the grey bandana you took one last look at the poster on the coffee table. In the photo your hair had been pushed behind your ear, and the sweater had been itchy, you remembered that.

Sighing a bit you looked over at El and saw her flipping through the channels. “Hey-” You started, only to be cut off by her holding up her finger. “Rude,” 

In the time since you learned about Eleven being alive, you learned plenty of things that you shouldn’t have. Things that could get you killed. Things you didn’t even tell Eleven. 

For example, according to Owens, your body’s near immunity to normal drugs like tylenol and benadryl growing up was because Will built up a tolerance to the atmosphere in the Upside Down, and you received his tolerance when you were born. And you being in the alternate dimension only built onto it. 

Even Owens was shocked when he heard that you didn’t have immunity to alcohol or caffeine. 

Eleven stopped on an empty channel, with white noise filling the room. As she gestured to the bandana without a word. Bringing up the grey material you covered your eyes with it, tying it behind your head and closing your eyes, even though the material made everything dark. 

“Think.” She told you. 

“Yeah, I think I got that, Sherlock.”

You sat for a moment, legs crossed and holding a wooden pencil in both hands until you opened your eyes to be met with echoing darkness, your feet felt cold, and looking down you saw the wet ground. It felt like you were walking through a puddle on freshly dried cement. 

Turning around you heard the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut. You were met with an older looking car as you approached. Seeing the back of a young man who was leaning against the roof of the car. 

“Tom, it’s gonna be okay,” A familiar voice said. Looking to your left you saw Dad walking over to your pa, a sad look on his face. He looked close to tears himself, and you could see Thomas huff a bit and scoff. 

“They hate me, Will.” It wasn’t hard to figure out who he was talking about, considering that you only had one grandparent who was present your entire life. 

Looking at your dad you saw his shoulders drop a bit as he nodded. He couldn’t possibly be much older than 20 you observed as he grabbed the roof of the car. “I’m sorry. . . you can. . . go back. I’ll leave, you don’t-”

“Will, don’t do that.” 

You knew the story well enough from what your aunt and uncle had told you about your pa’s parents being absent from your life and his. 

“Do what?” Will asked, tears welling up in his eyes, while his bottom lip trembled. The last time you saw that happen was when your uncle Dustin got into a car accident and he was laid up in the hospital for a week. 

You watched as Tom grabbed Will’s hand. “If my parents can’t accept me for who I love, that’s on them, don’t put that on yourself.” 

“It is my fault, I mean in their eyes you were perfect before, you had a girlfriend, and you were going to NYU with your sister, I ruined that. I showed up and to them you’re all of a sudden gay!”

“Will,” Thomas tried to interrupt.

“In their eyes, I probably turned you gay,”

“That’s not how that works.” 

“They don’t know that!”

Thomas sighed a bit, giving Will the look you knew all too well whenever he had gotten slightly annoyed with your constant talking in awkward situations. 

“Will, I’m Bi, my parents knew that when I told them in ninth grade. I wasn’t ‘all of a sudden’ gay. They just didn’t want me to be with a guy. They kept saying I’d find a nice girl and settle down.”

Will looked down at what you assumed was the side of the road or concrete, but for you was an inch of water.

“I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. I knew what my parents would say, but it’s still hard, because I always wanted them to accept me. But if they don’t, just because I love someone of the same sex, I don’t care. If they don’t want to be a part of every Christmas and thanksgiving we have together, and if they don’t want to meet our future kids, that’s on them.” 

You felt a smile creep onto your face as you crossed your arms and continued to watch the interaction. Seeing Will’s eyes widen a bit, and his mouth fall open a bit. 

“You want kids? With me?” 

Thomas muttered a swear under his breath, leaning against the car again, covering his face. “If you don’t want-”

“I do. . . I do want kids.” Will told him, grabbing his shoulders, a grin on his face. “I want kids, and I want them with you. I mean, I don’t know how we’ll have them exactly, but I do, with you.” 

Pulling the bandana off your face you smiled a bit, wiping the drop of blood away from your nose and looking at Eleven with a smile, leaning into the back of the couch. It was odd to think that your parents agreed to have kids after Pa’s parents disowned him, and right outside the old beat up Volkswagen that Pa drove up until you were five and loved to pieces. 

“What was it?” She asked quietly, turning the tv off. 

“My parents.” You told her with a smile. You could add that fact that apparently Will was still awkward in his early adulthood.

August 27th 1984

“Make sure he doesn’t get sent to the office,” Nancy insisted while she handed Steve his schedule that had been pinned to the bulletin board on wheels outside with the other Senior’s schedules. You already had yours in hand, and looked up at Nancy. 

“Why me, exactly? I have better things to do than babysit your eighteen year old boyfriend.” 

Before Nancy could answer, Steve laughed and showed you his schedule. “What the fuck, Steven?” You asked maybe a bit too loud after you skimmed the schedule as he continued laughing. 

“Miss L/n, watch your language.” Mr. Haul scolded as he passed by with a freshman who looked familiar. 

“Sorry,” You responded with lack of remorse. 

The freshman gave you a small smile as he followed the vice principal who also happened to teach third year english. “Thanks again for the water balloons,” 

It clicked and you gave a small nod and an awkward smile, watching as another boy caught up with him.

You turned back to Steve and hit his ribs, which sent him laughing again while you snatched his schedule. “Homeroom, that’s fine, but Mrs. Click too? Did you fail her Sophomore history class?” you demanded, looking at him. 

Nancy stood awkwardly in front of you two while Steve took the paper back from you hands, even if he had to snatch it back. “I didn’t take it,” He said with a genuine proud smile on his face. 

You blinked at him with a blank expression for a moment and hit his arm. “How did you not take it? Are you telling me you took Junior history before Sophomore?”

“Okay, just to explain it to you,” He started in a playful condescending tone. “I opted to take the college level government class, the administration didn’t realize it until I was already halfway through the year.”

“I think you mean college prep, and was it because of your birthday?” You asked, as he was a year older than the rest of his class due to the fact that his parents put him in school a later than they should have. One of the many things they did wrong with him. At least that you learned about in your time of being his friend.

“Exactly.” He said with a smile. “They said that they’d just put me in it the year after. But I chose to take a gap year of social studies.”

“God, you’re an idiot.”

Leaning against the pole you held your binder and watched as Steve examined the rest of his schedule. “Well, I have the same study hall class as Nance, so that’s a good thing. Right, Nance?” Looking up at Nancy you saw her smile and give a nod, and although it had Steve convinced, you were a bit skeptical. 

You gave her a smile and saw as her own became genuine as she returned it. Turning your head to look at the parking lot you saw the Ford Galaxie come into the parking lot. “I’ll be right back,” You told Nancy and Steve, walking over to the car. 

You saw Jonathan and Will getting out of the car. “Hey, Johnny Boy.” You teased with a smile. He glared at you for a moment, not fully out of the car yet, but sitting in the seat with his legs out. 

You went to say something before a loud click and flash went off. You froze up and blinked in surprise, before looking down and seeing Will holding a polaroid and smiling up at you, while you stared back with an unreadable expression. You saw his smile fade a bit. 

Jonathan had been telling the truth when he said that this younger Will you’d gotten to know in the past year wanted to be your friend. You saw the awkward attempts at trying to spark a friendship, and most of the time they fell flat. But not because of him. That was entirely on you, since you’d grown up looking in scrapbooks and yearbooks with this young Will’s face in it. 

You smiled a bit at him, and his came back as the photo printed out. He held it out to you and you grabbed it. 

It was bigger than most instant print photos you’d ever held, and already you could see the blue hues in the photo beginning to kick in your outline beginning to come into the center of the glossy part. 

“Who let you have a camera?” You asked with a grin, shaking the photo out of habit as Jonathan got out of the car, closing the door. 

“Our mom let it slip that your parents used to take photos of you at the beginning of every school year.” Jonathan informed. “Bob gave it to us. I said he could take the photo,”

You looked to Jonathan and smiled a bit. It was always your dad who took the photos, Pa was usually the one to get them printed out, or the one to put them in a photo album.

“Tell him thank you, for me then.” You told them as Will handed you the camera as well. 

“He said you could have it.” Will shrugged. 

Nodding you took your bag off and slipped your bag off, kneeling down with it, placing the camera in the bag and looking down at the photo in your hands. Still not fully developed, but almost done. With your mouth open to speak and hair neatly done. Some things never changed. And that included the way your hair was done on your first day of school every year. 

Every year, Pa and Dad worked together to try and get your hair to look nice. It was a simple thing, but it was a yearly occurrence, and truth be told, Pa was better at it. 

Reaching even deeper into your bag you pulled out an extra pack of gum and handed it to Will. “Don’t tell your mother. She’ll kill me.” You told him. 

October 25th 1984 

Class was always boring, but even more so when there was a sub reading from the textbook. So the moment you’d walked into Mrs. Click’s class you pulled out the patch Joyce gave you as well as the needle and thread you’d carried with you that day. 

“Where’s King Steve?” the familiar feminine voice asked as you approached your seat with the patch in hand. Chuckling a bit, you sat on the cheap wooden desk and shook your head. “Walking Little Miss Nance to her Home Economics class.” You told her. 

“Oh, the priss?”

Your shoulders dropped as you looked at her, “Be nice, Robin. Just because you like,” You mouthed the name ‘Tammy’ refusing to say it out loud for her own privacy. “And they’re obsessed with him, doesn’t mean you get to be mean.” 

“That was mean?” She asked, while you lowered yourself into your seat, feet up on the desk, even if the space was a bit tight to do that. 

“Yes, Rob, it was mean.” You laughed, stitching the ‘N’ into the patch. “Not to me, at least, but ya know, don’t encourage others.” You told her as she stood from her seat, holding her bag. 

“Got it, I’m gonna go sit with Nick.” She told you. 

“You’re trying to get on your section leader’s good side!” You accused as she walked to the other side of the class. “Sh!” She told you as she plopped down next to the section leader of the band.

You met Robin in art class and the two of you hit it off pretty quickly, hanging out after school sometimes. She was responsible for the posters you had up in the living room of your apartment, which were impulse buys that Robin encouraged. 

But you still remembered ‘What about this Kenny Rogers one?’ It had been a joke of course. ‘If you ever bring Kenny Rogers into my home, my parents would kill me, then you.’ 

Predictably, Steve came in late, holding his breakfast before he’d found his spot next to you, allowing the teacher to keep reading from the textbook. No scolding from the middle aged man while you stitched the letters in as best as you could. You weren’t good with stitching unless it was to fix a button or a popped seam. Something that your Cousin Barb taught you, because and you quote ‘the school system won’t teach this shit, and Uncle Will doesn’t know what the hell a needle is.’

But you would say that the letters were coming out better than you expected, but then again, Joyce traced the letters out for you. 

You still weren’t particularly close with Will, but you were willing to help with the costume, since they wouldn’t let you buy Will a store bought one. You’d seen Mike’s when you went over to Nancy’s, and knew that Will’s wouldn’t completely match his friend’s, but figured that it might have meant more to him, since his mom put it together for him. 

The door opened and you looked up, seeing the vice principal ask for the sub to come outside. And watching as the man closed the textbook and followed him out, students began chatting away, while you stayed quiet and continued with your work. 

Steve turned to you and tapped your knee, catching your attention, making you look at him, seeing the crumbs of his breakfast all over the floor and on his desk, a little on his sleeve as well. “What happened last night?” 

Scoffing you shook your head, wiping the crumbs off of his sleeve, going back to your sewing. 

“Oh come on, Hopper dropped you off at the video store, you have your own car.” He pointed out. The mention of your old but very well loved and pre owned car made you roll your eyes. 

“Leave Delorean out of this.” You told him with a small smile, multitasking by talking to him, but not wanting to get distracted and sew the wrong spot. It wasn’t like typing on a computer or phone where you could look away and still type, and fix any typos you may have made. 

“It’s not even a Delorean! It’s a Volkswagen Thing. That’s what it’s called!” Steve told you while you placed down the patch and looked back at him. You could tell him why, but decided against it. Knowing that you didn’t want to spoil the movie that still wasn’t out yet, and not wanting to explain the irony to him.  “Leave her out of it,” You stated, He dropped the subject all together, digging into his bag and pulling out red licorice, holding one out to you. 

Something about Steve Harrington not many people knew? He had the biggest sweet tooth out of anyone you’d ever met. He always had some kind of candy on him, but never over did himself. 

Looking at his bag you tried to spot the packaging he pulled it out of, but when you couldn’t see it, you leaned over the bar that connected the hair and desk you sat in, pulling the front of his bag down a bit to see the packaging. “Ew, no.” you told him.

“You love candy?” 

“Not Twizzlers.” You told him with a smile. “Everyone knows that Red Vines are better.” You told him. At that, he sighed and reached into his bag again, and you could hear glass as he pulled out a glass bottle of coke and put it on your desk. You just stared at the class for a moment before grabbing it. “Do you just carry around type two diabetes in your bag at all times?”

“Yes.” Steve told you nonchalantly. “What are you doing? He asked, changing the subject. 

“Oh,” You looked back to the patch and picked it up, showing him, “I’m helping Mrs. Byers with Will’s costume. He’s going as a ghostbuster.” 

“He chose Spengler?”

You chuckled and nodded. “He and his friends all agreed. It’s a group thing that they’re doing.” 

“You’re really close with the Byers.” He observed. 

Steve was right, in the past year, you’d grown very close with Joyce and Jonathan, and you liked Bob, he was sweet, and good to Joyce. 

“Yeah, good family.” You told him awkwardly.

• • • 

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​ @jxnehxpper​ @yllwtaxi​ @songofcosplay​ @potatopooper05​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @robinsdolan​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @the_passionate_freak @bisexualpears​ @ilovebucketbarnes​ @random-thoughts-003​

[alright--okay]

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 1

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~1.5 k

a/n: this is college au where Tsukki is basically into really indie/alt music and so are you so you guys start as like concert buddies/friends and grow as more. I started this a while ago and have been posting to ao3 but I’m trying to find motivation to write more so imma start posting to tumblr lol hope anyone reading enjoys <3

read on ao3!

pt. 1 Polite Company - Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Tsukishima saw you everywhere, it didn’t make any sense. If the University of Tokyo was so big, why was he seeing the same girl all around campus?

Particularly in his one stupid archeology elective. The class was a joke compared to everything else he was taking but it gave him a break from his other more intense courses and he wasn’t about to refuse the opportunity to slack off. You were not only in the large lecture portion of the class but also in his recitation, meaning he saw you three times a week, not including the glances he caught of you just from walking around.

And he wasn’t stalking you (he swears), it’s just that you were … everywhere. Sitting in the last row of the lecture hall (just a few seats to the right of him), waiting for the TA outside the classroom for recitation (usually on your phone), or doing work in the student center as he passed through (always with your headphones on, always).

He had no clue who you were. You most probably weren’t an archeology major like himself, he would have seen you in the intro classes or any of the higher-level courses. Yeah, Tokyo was big but he could at least recognize some other people in the major, and he had never seen you in the three years he had been attending the University of Tokyo. Or at least didn’t notice you before, but that also seemed unlikely.

Today was no different. The lecture portion of the course was a little too early for anyone’s liking, so Tsukishima went to take his usual seat in the back row, ready to half pay attention, half play on his phone. You were already there, headphones atop your head as you continued to look at your phone, the faint sound of music escaped the padding by your ears but it was too muffled to make out an actual beat.

Tsukishima said a quick “excuse me” as he moved to step over your legs and bag on the ground. You remained quiet, giving a polite smile as you tucked your legs in, attempting to give him more room to pass. That’s when he caught sight of your sweatshirt. Normally he paid no mind to what you, let alone anyone, was wearing but the bubbled blue outline of the word “Forests” gave him pause. That was a band. That was a small band. How the fuck were you aware of their presence.

Tsukishima quickly made his way past you as he realized he really shouldn’t be staring at your chest (even if it was just to read your sweatshirt, he swears). He tried to nonchalantly maneuver his way into one of the old lecture hall seats a few down from yours before quickly pulling out his phone.

No way is it the same Forests, he thought as he brought up the band’s website and quickly scrolling through there merch.

Starring back at him was the same fucking sweatshirt. That meant you knew this band, this tiny band. He was so used to being alone in his music taste. Akiteru only listened to what was on the radio and Yamaguchi entertained Tsukishima when he went on rants about music and bands, but he didn’t really listen to any of it. Tsukishima had come to accept that his music-listening experience was mostly gonna be reserved for laying in his bed alone, staring at the ceiling, and absorbing the lyrics. This was fine, he could still enjoy the music just fine. But … you knew some of his music.

~~~

Tsukishima tried to ignore the thoughts of you. He didn’t know you, you were a random person who just so happened to maybe, possibly listen to the same type of music as him. Who cares?

It was a little later in the week and Tsukishima was making his way to the recitation for this stupid elective. The TA, as usual, was late so Tsukishima made his way over to the wall to wait, his own pair of headphones supplying a flow of music.

When you made an appearance from around the corner, Tsukishima couldn’t help the extra attention he paid to your clothing. And god fucking damn it. That was a Mom Jeans shirt. There was someone who listened to the same music as him. Or at least similar. But that was enough for Tsukishima to decide he wanted to talk to you.

To yama:

i have a situation

From yama:

oh ?? care to elaborate ?

Tsukishima paused. This was weird, wasn’t it? He had never interacted with you besides the time he had to move past you to get to his seat. And the lecture was huge. Nobody talked to each other unless you were already friends or were in desperate need of notes. Tsukishima was in neither of those situations.

To yama:

okay so theres this girl and before you say anything no im not trying to ask her out but she was wearing a shirt for a band i listen to

From yama:

that you listen to? not to say youre some hipster indie boy…. but you tend to listen to v obscure music

To yama:

yea i know that thats why im kinda freaking out like do i say something?? and if i do say something what would i even say

From yama:

go for it !! if shes anything like you she probably doesnt get to talk about music much either so just bring up her shirt or something itll be fine tsukki

To yama:

yea ill think about it

Tsukishima put his phone away as someone held the door open for him. Apparently the TA arrived sometime while he was texting Yamaguchi so he quickly made his way into the classroom, taking a seat a few rows behind you.

He would talk to you.

Just not today.

~~~

After the recitation the day before, you had pushed your headphones back onto your ears as soon as the TA was finished and made your way out of the room, his eyes following as you did so. Tsukishima had gone back to his apartment only to be further interrogated by Yamaguchi. What band? There were multiple bands? Did he know you? What class was this again? Are you cute? That’s where Tsukishima cut him off, moving into his room to attempt some work.

It was now Thursday morning, meaning it was time for the second half of the lecture. He was gonna do it. Tsukishima was going to talk to you.

He walked into the lecture hall, you again were already sitting in your seat at the back. Tsukishima (calmly, obviously he was calm) walked over to your seat and sat beside you.

~~~~~~

Who the fuck was this guy?

Yeah, you had seen him around, but he never talked to you, or anyone else in the class for that matter. And yet here he was, sitting next to you and gesturing for you to take off your headphones.

“Can I help you?” you said, complying by slipping the headphones around your neck.

He took a small, almost hesitant pause, “I noticed your shirt the other day, you listen to Forests?”

Your eyes grew slightly wider, “You know who they are?”

“Um, yeah and I’m not used to people listening to the same music as me so I thought I’d … I don’t know … say hi? Introduce myself?”

“Well, you haven’t done a very good job on that plan so far,” you paused to give him a small smile, “just saying.”

Tsukishima gave you a smirk of his own, “Hi,” he emphasized, making you smile wider, “I’m Tsukishima Kei. And you are?”

“l/n y/n,” you replied, smile still in place. “So you listen to Forests. Anyone else I might know?”

Tsukishima paused for a moment, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. Bands you listened to every day were not necessarily what everyone else listened to (which let’s be real, understandable), so replying to a question like this meant either replying with more popular bands people had likely heard of or going full-on obscure and have the person stare at you in confusion. But after a moment, Tsukishima responded with his own small list.

“I know a couple of them actually,” you saw his mouth give a small uptick, probably not used to that response, “what-” The two of you were interrupted by the professor being the lecture, but you quickly turned back to the boy at your side, now in a quieter voice you asked, “what were the names of the other bands? I’ll look them up.”

Tsukishima slowly listed them off again as you typed them into your phone, excited to see what this random guy in your lecture listened to.

Time passed slowly as you and Tsukishima put your attention back to the material at hand, but as the class came to the end and the two of you were packing up your things, your mind drifted to the coming weekend.

Yeah, you just met the guy, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. He seemed kinda nice after all, and he’d probably be into it.

“Hey Tsukishima,” you called to get his attention, “you ever been to a basement show?”

[chelseaheskett]

CHRISTMAS EVE, 2019 @ THE HOLT HOUSE

They were late getting the presents under the tree this year. Not for a lack of trying: Vanessa, quite adventurous, thought it would be fun and hilarious to tear off all the wrapping paper and low-hung ornaments from the Christmas tree. It was frustrating, sure, but all Chelsea could do was laugh when she found her little girl surrounded by baubles and fir and gift wrap in the living room. If she didn’t laugh about it, then she was sure to cry about it. Laughing and cleaning it up seemed easier. No use crying over spilled milk and all that. Now her and Elliot were up early morning Christmas Eve, preparing for the holiday before the sun could come up, while the rest of the house was still sound asleep. 

They were almost through wrapping and re-wrapping all the presents when they took a break. Chelsea constantly had to pee, anyway, so Elliot was the real hero. He did most of the work. “Here you go, baby.” She said, emerging from the kitchen with a freshly brewed cup of coffee for him. Empty wrapping paper rolls and jagged edges and small torn pieces of wrap covered the coffee table, so she handed it to him directly on the couch. She plopped down beside him, cradling her stomach. Twenty-seven weeks pregnant, now. Thankfully, Chelsea was starting to even out a little, mentally. Elliot was in and out of his sling, getting closer to recovery. Everything was starting to settle again. The miracle of Christmas! God, she loved Christmas. Ever since meeting Elliot, and falling in love with him then, it had become her favourite time of the year. She was so content that she didn’t even mind the early wake-up time. 

Chelsea threw her legs over Elliot’s lap. They were still warm and comfy in their pyjamas; Elliot in a long-sleeved shirt and his trademark cartoon PJ pants. These ones were white and fleece and had snowmen and reindeer and other animals printed all over them. Chelsea was in loose and matching flannel maternity PJs that she paired with pink bed socks. She flexed her toes in them, scratching the soft material against Elliot’s forearm. “You know what I want for Christmas?” Chelsea prompted, shifting to tuck herself under his arm, so she could cuddle into his chest. She paused for dramatic effect, wondering how his mind was going to wander... It did sound a little suggestive, in nature. She let him go that way for a moment, kinking an eyebrow, before finally putting her request out there in the open. “I want us to pick a name for the baby.” Chelsea raised her head, peeking up at him to gauge his reaction. “Can we do that today, please? Can we do that now?” She asked, sounding hopeful. Put on the puppy dog eyes, just in case.

They decided on a first name together by the time one of the babies (Isaac) started wailing on the monitor. Luca. They were going to call their little peanut Luca. There was something about short names, when it came to their boys: Jack, Isaac, Luca. Alex, too, in a way. Even if it was a nickname for Alexander, and even if he had nothing to do with Chelsea, it still counted. Chelsea still liked to count him, rest his soul. Their girls had long names, for some reason? Genevieve and Vanessa. It was cute, when she thought about it. She grinned, when she did. She loved her family. And that’s why Chelsea loved Christmas so much: spending so much time surrounded by her favourite people, celebrating them and showering them with gifts and love and appreciation. It was Thanksgiving turned up a notch. She just felt so happy. So happy and loved and fulfilled.

By noon, everyone was awake and dressed and running amok. Jenny was with Lucy until tomorrow morning, which kinda sucked, but Chelsea tried not to let it ruin her good mood.  Vanessa and Jack were in the kitchen with Elliot, who was cutting them up fruit for a snack. Isaac was clutching Chelsea’s cardigan on the couch, and trying to rip the holes wider in her jeans. He touched her stomach constantly, copying what he saw Elliot do all the time. Babbled to her belly, too. There was an animated Christmas movie flickering on the TV in the background, but Isaac wasn’t paying attention. He was more interested in watching Chelsea browse the internet on her laptop. She scrolled through her computer with one hand and brushed through Isaac’s hair with the other. 

“Elliot, baby, come here!” Chelsea shouted from the living room. Vanessa and Jack came running through the archway with plastic bowls. Elliot wasn’t too far behind, carrying one for Isaac. “Thanks, hon.” She said, tilting her head up to give him a kiss when he got close. “Say ‘thank you, Daddy’, baby.” Chelsea turned to Isaac to coach him. “Tank you, Daddy.” Isaac enunciated, grabbing a hold of his fruit bowl. He, too, lifted his chin to get a kiss. Chelsea lightly laughed. Yeah, this was the good life. Elliot sat down beside them on the couch and Chelsea passed over her laptop for him to see. Isaac nibbled on a piece of chopped up banana and slid off the couch to join Jack and Vanessa on the floor mat by the television set. He left his bowl behind, but Isaac never got too far away from them, anyway. Chelsea moved it to the coffee table, clean now, and bumped her shoulder against Elliot’s.

As always, Chelsea had to explain. “There’s this lady that makes these name signs, y’know, for like... newborn announcements and for room decor and... it lets you type in a name and see what they look like, with the design you want, before you buy one, so...” Her leg was bouncing, she was so excited. She pointed to the preview image on the laptop. A wooden circle, with animals printed on top, and the name Luca Elliot scripted above a hand-drawn star. They didn’t get a chance to discuss middle names earlier. Chelsea hoped he liked it. Hoped he wouldn’t push back against it, considering it was his name. Chelsea sucked in a breath. “What do you think? Do you like it? The... the sign and the name, I mean.” Chelsea asked, thumbing his wrist. “Should I buy it?”

The doorbell started chiming. Chelsea pulled a face, wondering who it was. Her Mom was in Wilmington until her flight back tonight, and they weren’t supposed to be seeing Macy and Amy and their families until dinner tomorrow. Last minute Amazon delivery? She wasn’t sure. “I’ll get it!” Chelsea announced, struggling to get off the couch with all her baby weight. She held her bump as she walked to answer the front door. 

Happiness was only momentary. The other shoe always dropped eventually. And again, again, everything came crashing down around her. Around them. They couldn’t even have one day, one damn holiday, without something bad happening, could they? Her shoulders tensed. She gritted her teeth. “What the hell are you doing here, Christian? You need to go.” Chelsea practically spat, holding onto the door, quite ready to slam it in his face. She felt sick at the sight of him. Angry. She’d punch him in the face again if she had to. 

“Chelsea, please just give me a chance—”  

“A chance? Are you dumb?” Chelsea cut him off, laughter bubbling at her lips. “It’s literally Christmas. Leave. Now.” It was either of his own accord or in a body bag, at this point! 

Christian held his ground. “Yeah, you’re right, it is Christmas.” Chelsea squinted at him, wondering what the hell he was trying to get at. “And my father is in town—”

“Good for you, asshole!” She swore, interrupting him again. Thanks for rubbing it in, Christian. Chelsea’s eyes prickled with tears, briefly thinking about her own father, and tried to close the door. Christian kept it open with the palm of his hand. Chelsea’s heart started to race. He could easily overpower her, like he’d done once before... but Elliot and her kids were in the house. Where was Elliot? She was surprised he hadn’t come to check on the door. It didn’t matter. He was better off staying out of this one, staying safe inside the living room. 

“My father, William Pearson.” Christian said forcefully. So? Sounded like a common name. Must’ve been plenty of them in California, let alone in all of America. But Chelsea wasn’t that stupid. She connected the dots pretty quickly. Refused to swallow the thought, though. Nope. She couldn’t believe that. She wasn’t going to buy into his bullshit.

“Goodbye, Christian.” Chelsea tried to close the door again, but it was no use. The fear and anxiety felt like it was choking her; labouring her breaths. 

“Elliot’s my brother.” Christian said it, anyway. Chelsea squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t be hearing this. Not now, not ever. “I swear I didn’t know. I just found out...”

“You’re lying.” Chelsea’s voice was rough. She opened her eyes just to glare at him, trying to will him away. Christian reached his hand out to... touch her? Comfort her? She wasn’t sure, but took her opening and slammed the door shut. Deadlocked it. Almost caught his hand in the frame. That would’ve been good, that would’ve been payback. Chelsea tried to control her breathing, hiding behind the closed door. Christian was still outside, on the porch. She could hear him.

“I have proof! I have pictures, I brought my birth certificate. I have Elliot’s, too. I have it all here.” Christian said through the door. Chelsea turned to press her back to it. Elliot was standing there, right there in the entryway. Oh God. Her knees started to buckle. Chelsea had to grip the door frame to keep herself from collapsing. Her heart rate was through the roof. 

[pink1031]

The Rift: Daddy Issues

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/n Winchester, Negan

Word Count: 9,253

Summary: Dean, Sam, and half sister, Y/n are on a mission to find Mary Winchester.  With the help of Rowena they must travel through the rift to bring Mary home.  But what happens when Rowena can’t get them to the right AU on the first try? 

A/N: This is a TWD and SPN crossover. Each chapter of The Rift will be a stand alone story with some references to the previous chapter.  So far I only have three chapters planned for this series.  I didn’t do the gifs for this story like I have in previous stories but I might for the next chapter.

Warnings: Dub-con, smut, oral (female receiving), references to incest. Lots of foul language (Negan of course.) Implied major character death.

“So we are really doing this?” You looked up at both of your older brothers as they flanked you and the three of you stared at the shimmering gold line of the rift in front of you. “We are really trusting that Rowena is going to be able to bring us home?” You glanced over your shoulder at the ginger haired witch who gave you an icy glare.

“We don’t have much of a choice. We have to get Mom.” Sam smiled a tight lipped smile as he looked down at you.

“You know you don’t have to go with us darlin’. She isn’t your mom.” Dean’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“She may not be my mother but you are still my brothers and I want to help.” You nodded as you smiled up at your oldest brother.  

“Then let’s do this.” Dean’s eyes moved back to the rift and he automatically reached out for you hand.  You took a deep breath as you laced your fingers with his.  

Going through the slice in reality’s very fabric felt nothing like you thought it would. It didn’t even tingle.  It really felt like nothing had happened at all but suddenly you went from being in the war room at the bunker to standing in the middle of a wooded area.  

“Wow.” You gasped as you looked around, taking in your surroundings while still clutching at Dean’s hand.  

“Yeah, different huh?” Dean chuckled, he and Sammy having more experience at this than you.

Sam stepped through the golden slit a moment after you and your oldest brother.  Both brothers looked around and a frown formed on their faces.  

“This is not the right place.” Sam frowned.

Dean let go of your hand and turned back to the rift just in time to watch it close. “Sonofabitch.” He cursed. “It figures Rowena couldn’t get us to the right place on the first try.”

“So now what? We have what, twenty four hours before it will open again?” You looked back and forth between Sam and Dean.

“Yeah, looks that way, at least that’s what Rowena said.  She said something about having to recharge her energy before she can open it again.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“So what are we going to do for twenty four hours if this is the wrong place?” You scrunched up your nose.  “Stand around in the forest?”

“No.” Dean scoffed. “We’ll.” His words were cut off as a loud melodic whistle cut through the air shortly followed by more similar whistles all coming from different directions.  

In a practiced move you, Sam, and Dean all drew the guns that were tucked away safely in the back of your jeans and turned your backs to one another so you were all facing a different direction.

“Well looky what we have here. Hot diggity dog.” The owner of the deep baritone voice stepped into the small clearing and your eyes went wide with shock.  

“Dad?” You gasped, voice barely audible with your surprise as you took in the sight of the tall lean man wearing a leather jacket with a barbed wire wrapped baseball bat slung over his shoulder.  

You felt your brothers stiffen at your back and you had to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you to see that you were surrounded by a group of people all holding guns on you.  There must have been at fifteen of them.  You and your brothers were good, but not that good.  

“Shit.” You heard Dean curse softly.  

“How about you put those guns down?” The man who looked like your father grinned. “Then we can get to some fucking introductions.”

The three of you knew you didn’t have a choice so you lowered your weapons and tossed them to the ground where they were quickly collected by one of the men that were surrounding you.  

Negan took in the appearance of the three of you before him. There was something off about the way you all looked. You were all too clean, too healthy, too taken care of.  Hell, you even had makeup on.  You did however all have that weary look in your eyes like you had seen battle, lost loved ones. You were battle scarred but he wasn’t sure it was from fighting the biters.

“On your knees.” Negan barked the order and the three of you glanced at each other.  

Your hesitation to follow orders caused Negan’s men to quickly come forward. In a rush of practiced expertise the three of you were patted down for additional weapons and shoved down to your knees in the dirt.

Sam wound up kneeling in the middle between you and Dean as Negan began to pace  back and forth in front of the three of you. His dark eyes took in everything about you before they finally settled on Dean.  

“Where are you from cause it sure as shit isn’t from around here?” Negan grinned a toothy smile.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You could hear the eye roll in Dean’s voice even though you couldn’t see him.

Negan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his head canted and he looked down at Dean. “Try me.” Negan growled, the humor lost from his voice.

You heard Sam take a breath at your side. “We’re from an alternate reality. We aren’t even sure where we are.”

“We don’t want any trouble. We are just passing through. We will be out of here by this time tomorrow.” Dean added.  

Negan just stared at your brothers, a frown on his face. “Huh.” He grunted before taking two steps that placed him directly in front of you.  Your neck craned as you looked up at the towering man. “What about you sweetheart, you going to feed me that line of bullshit as well or you going to tell me the truth?”

“That is the truth.  He told you that you wouldn’t believe us.” You said almost smugly.

“Alright then.” Negan swung his bat, pointing it at your brothers and nodding.  You watched as two of Negan’s men stepped behind Sam and Dean.  “Let’s start over shall we. My name is Negan and I am the motherfucking king dick around here and the three of you are fucking trespassing.” Negan continued to swing his bat back and forth as he walked before you. “Now I know that you don’t know me and you don’t know the type of man I am so I’m going to let that bullshit slide just this once.” He stopped walking in front of you once more. “Let’s try this again sweetheart. You look like you are smarter than your boyfriends here, hell you are definitely a lot more fun to look at.” Negan’s eyes moved over you again from head to toe as his tongue rolled against his bottom lip making you shiver.  “So beautiful, where is your camp? And don’t try to fucking lie to me. I know the three of you haven’t been out here on your own. You’re too damn clean and well taken care of for that.”  

“We told you the truth.” You stared up at him, trying to make your voice firm and your eyes hard despite the fear that was nagging at you.

Negan nodded his head, his lips forming a thin line as he kept his eyes on you.  “Kill them both.” Negan barked out to his men a sadistic smile curling his lips.

“No!” You called out as you heard the cocking of guns at your side. “Wait, they’re my brothers please, you can’t kill them.” You looked up at him the hardness gone from your eyes replaced by pure fear.

Negan’s grin grew wider and he held up his hand to his men telling them to pause.  His long legs folded up as he squatted down so he was eye level with your kneeling form.  His barbed wire covered bat sat between his legs and helped him keep his balance as he grinned at you.

“I most certainly can fucking kill them sweetheart.” Negan grinned.  “Unless you give me a good goddamn reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Please. We are telling the truth. There is no camp, it‘s just us. I would tell you if there was.” You pleaded, tears brimming in your eyes as you realized the severity of your situation. “I’ll do anything. Please don’t hurt them.”

Negan rolled his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared you down.  His smirk grew and he bit the tip of his pink tongue. “Anything huh? Now don’t go letting your mouth write checks that your sweet little ass can’t cash.” His gloved hand reached out and he gently brushed the hair away from your eyes, tucking the stray strand behind your ear before he let his fingertips trail down your soft cheek to your jaw.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Dean yelled as he tried to stand but Simon was right there to shove him back to his knees and place the barrel of the gun against the back of Dean’s head.

“Yes anything. I promise, anything you want. Just don’t hurt them.” You spoke quickly your voice shaky with fear and panic.  

“Alright then.” Negan’s eyes never left yours as he rose up to his feet.  “Load ‘em up boys.” Negan held out his hand to you to help you to your feet and you reluctantly slipped your small hand into his. His fingers curled around your hand snugly and he effortlessly pulled you up to your feet.  

“So what’s your name beautiful?” Negan grinned.

“Y/n.” You replied but you weren’t looking at him, instead your eyes were trained on your brothers.

You watched as Negan’s men lead your brothers away. Negan’s hand slipped from yours to wrap around your wrist and he tugged you away following the direction his men took Sam and Dean. You stood and watched as they were forced into the back of one of the trucks that sat in clearing not far from where you had been.

When you turned your eyes back to Negan the look on his face was predatory. His chocolate brown eyes had darkened and his gaze ran over your body lewdly.  You shivered, it was unnerving to see a man who looked exactly like your father eyeing you up and down like you were a fucking steak dinner and he was starved.

Negan sucked at his bottom lip as he hummed in approval of you. “C’mon Y/n. You’re riding with me sweetheart.” He grinned as he placed his large hand against the small of your back and lead you over to a black Dodge Charger.

Once inside the car Negan looked at you again and grinned. “You know it’s pretty fucking noble you willing to sell your sweet little ass to save your brothers.  Do you think they appreciate that?”

“What?” You eyed him with furrowed brows.

“Do you think your brothers appreciate you whoring yourself out for them?  It’s a pretty simple question sweetheart.” Negan chuckled as he began to drive.

“Wait I didn’t agree to…” You began to argue but Negan was quick to cut you off.

“Fuck yeah you did. You said anything darlin’. And that anything includes me fucking you six ways from Sunday. But I think you already knew that, didn’t you?” Negan grinned smugly.  When you didn’t respond Negan took his eyes off the road to glance back over to you. “But, of course, if you want to change your mind I got no problem bashing your brothers’ heads in as soon as we get where we are going.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “Fine, whatever…but you promised not to hurt them.”

Negan’s toothy grin plastered back on his smug handsome face as he stomped on the gas and sped down the road. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

The building Negan took you looked like it was an old factory of some kind. It was teaming with people scurrying around like worker bees.  You got out of the car just as Negan’s men were forcing your brothers out of the back of the truck roughly.  You instinct was to run to them immediately but a gloved hand suddenly around your arm stopped your forward momentum and you were yanked back into Negan’s body.

“Nuh uh sweetheart. You’re staying right by my side.” He smirked down at you.  

“I want to be with my brothers. Where are you taking them?” You peered up at the towering man with tear filled eyes.  

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head about your brothers. They will be fine.”  Negan winked down at you. “As long as you keep up your fucking end of our bargain.”  

You nodded softly as your eyes darted to take in your surroundings. You suddenly stopped dead in your tracks, your face contorted in horror as you saw the line of dead, yet squirming bodies anchored to the fence line.

“What the hell are those?” Your voice cracked and you instinctively pressed closer to Negan’s side as you shrank away from the walkers.

Negan peered down at you, confusion etched on his face before he followed your line of sight. His eyebrows raised high in surprise at your genuine reaction to the walkers.  “Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered at the sudden realization that this was the first time you had seen the walking dead.  He chuckled and shook his head, maybe you and your brothers were telling the truth after all and if that was the case it opened up new possibilities that Negan had never dreamed of.  

Negan kept his tight grip on your bicep as he lead you through the building.  You could see Sam and Dean for a little while ahead of you until Negan’s men lead them down some metal stairs at the same time as Negan lead you up a set of stairs.  

Negan stopped before a large heavy door and he finally released his bruising grip on your arm to fish a set a keys from his pocket.  He unlocked the door and motioned you inside.  You hesitated and the man rolled his eyes at you before hauling you inside roughly, shoving you forward and making you stumble.  

As you regained your balance you immediately began to take in your surroundings.  It was a large room and you were assuming it was Negan’s.  It looked like it should belong to him.  Everything was done in shades of grey and black and very masculine.  The center piece of the room was, of course, a large four poster bed that sat to one side while a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table sat on the other side of the room.  It honestly looked like you were in a fancy hotel room despite being inside an industrial building.

You heard the door shut behind you and the lock click in place before Negan made his way around you.  You watched him closely as he propped his bat against the end of the couch and he unzipped his leather jacket revealing the white t-shirt that hugged his chest underneath before turning back to you.

You couldn’t help but stare at him.  He looked so much like your father but so different at the same time. He was thinner than your dad and was a little more grey around his scruff but it was still him none the less.  

“I got something on my face or you just like staring at this fucking handsome mug?” Negan chuckled noting how you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“It’s, it’s just that you look like someone I know, exactly like someone I know.” You swallowed hard at the thought.  

“Oh yeah? And who the fuck might that be? Besides being a handsome fucking devil.” He smirked.  

Your hand slowly moved to reach into your jacket for the inside pocket but Negan was quick to grab your forearm to stop your movement as he tutted his disapproval.

“I was just getting a picture.” You spoke softly as you looked up into his cognac colored eyes.  Negan nodded and let go of your arm and you retrieved the photo handing it to him.  

Negan took the photograph and stared at it, his eyes growing wide as he gazed at the image of himself. Granted the picture looked like him in his slightly younger days but it was him none the less.  

“That’s my father, John Winchester.” You watched Negan’s reaction closely.

“Well fuck darlin’ aint that just some shit.” He handed the picture back to you. “Guess that is going to make what happens next awkward as hell for you.”  

“Huh?” You asked with wide eyes. “You can’t really expect me to…not when you know you look just like my dad?”

“That’s exactly what I fucking expect sweetheart because that was our fucking deal.” Negan eyed you a frown forming on his face before he continued. “And you made that little peach of deal knowing I looked exactly like your old man but you made it anyway.”  Negan’s frown turned into a toothy grin as he stepped closer to you, closing the distance until his chest almost touched your own. “Makes me think that deep down you wanted a little freaky deaky with your pops. Is that it darlin’, you wanted to get dicked down by your old man but never could? Well don’t worry cause I’m here to fucking help you out and I’ll even let you call me Daddy.” As the last words fell from his lips Negan’s hand was quick to wrap into your hair and he tugged your head back harshly before his lips crashed down on yours.

Your body went rigid as his lips met your own.  Your hands clutched into fists at your side as you steeled yourself, determined not to react to him. Negan’s mouth was insistent at your own, his tongue dragging against your bottom lip wanting entrance. You felt yourself shudder against him as his free hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you flush against his hard body.  You whimpered in protest but his grip only tightened and when he yanked your hair harder and made you gasp against his lips his tongue was quick to force its way into your open mouth.  Chuck help you he tasted good, like whiskey and cinnamon and something completely dominatingly man.  

Your hands moved to grip at his white t-shirt as his tongue moved against your own. You could feel his hum of satisfaction against your lips as his tongue explored ever crevice of your mouth and you gave in and kissed him back until you were weak and breathlessly in his arms.

Negan pulled back and smirked down at your flushed face. “Take your clothes off.” His voice a low growl and demanding.  

“What?” Your addled brain fought to make sense of his words as you stared up into his lust blown eyes.  

“Strip.” He grunted the command before backing up and settling against the arm of the couch, his long legs stretched out before him, crossing at the ankles as he perched to watch you.  

Your hands were shaking as you slowly started to comply.  You slipped your jacket off your shoulders and tossed it to a chair that sat in the corner.  Your boots and socks were removed next. One by one each piece of your clothing was removed until your standing before the man bared completely.  

“Holy shit, you are just gorgeous baby.” Negan exclaimed as he pushed himself up to his full height and his predatory eyes drank you in.  “I bet your mom was a fucking looker or maybe you just get your good looks from your old man huh? Runs in the fucking family. I think you do have my eyes and maybe my nose.” Negan chuckled hardily at your obvious discomfort at his teasing.  

Negan was quick to shed his own leather jacket before closing the distance between you.  A part of you wanted to shrink back away from him but the heat of his gaze froze you to the spot.  Negan circled your body like a lion stalking his prey before he settled on a spot behind you.  You could feel the heat off his body he was so close. You closed your eyes and goosebumps ran along your skin as you suddenly felt the light touch of calloused fingertips slide down your spine.

Your back arched instinctively at his touch, thrusting your bare breasts forward. Negan’s breath was suddenly at your ear, his rough stubble against your neck and he breathed you in.  

“Damn you smell good baby. Haven’t had a gal smelling as good as you in a long time. All clean and sweet.” He mumbled against your ear before his teeth suddenly bit into the side of your neck making you cry out both in surprise and because of the stinging pain.  Negan’s arm quickly wrapped around your waist, holding you against his body as you stiffened.  His mouth worked at your neck, biting and sucking the flesh until he left purple and red marks in his wake.  You squirmed in his grip but he held you strong against him.  His hands began to openly explore your flesh, one hand gripping at your full breast, fingers digging into the skin as he squeezed before he moved his fingertips to your already hard nipple.  He gripped the tight bud and twisted until your back arched again and you cried out softly.  

Negan moaned at the sounds falling from your lips. “Mmm, the things Daddy is going to do to you little girl. Fuck you got my dick fucking hard as fucking steel.” He emphasized his point by grinding his jean clad hips into your lower back so you could feel the hard length of him pressing into you.  

You closed your eyes and tried to take a calming breath.  You didn’t want this, did you? No, you were just doing this for your brothers, to keep them safe. Your body trembled as Negan’s hand slid over the curve of your hip, his fingers inching towards the apex of your thighs. Chuck, why was your body shaking? Why did it feel like every touch of his hands were electric?  Why were soft moans falling from your lips and your hips grinding back against him?  No, this was so wrong.  This man looked like your father.  It shouldn’t feel like this.  

Negan’s fingers inched closer to your heated core making you arch and push your hips to meet his hand only to have him pull away completely.  A whimper of protest fell from your lips followed by his dark chuckle.  In one quick movement Negan lifted you off your feet and tossed you easily onto his bed.  

You bounced against the bed with a grunt as you landed on your back.  You raised yourself up on your elbows to look at the man stalking towards. Negan’s eyes traveled the length of your form hungrily, his tongue darting out to lick over his lips.

“Goddamn you are fucking soaked sweetheart. Fuck, you do have some fucking daddy issues don’t ya baby? Such a fucking dirty little girl.” He groaned as his dark chestnut eyes stared ravenously at your smooth glistening cunt.

You were quick to snap your legs shut as his eyes stayed fixed on your core.  Negan bit his bottom lip and grinned as you tried to hide yourself from his view.  

“Awe babydoll, don’t act like you don’t fucking want me. I know you do.” He almost purred. “That pretty little pussy is so wet.” Negan moved forward, his hands gripping your knees and prying your thighs apart to stare down at your dripping slit. “That beautiful sight right fucking there that’s all the proof Daddy needs.”

Negan groaned softly before dragging his lust filled eyes back to yours. “Fuck, Daddy has just got to have a taste of you baby.”  

With those words he dropped down to kneel at the foot of the bed.  His hands slid down to grip at your calves and he yanked you closer to the edge throwing your legs up over his shoulders.  Negan dove into your wet pussy before any words of protest could leave your lips. Your back arched and your head rolled back as his tongue drove through your slick folds to lick a long warm line from your ass to your clit.

“Fucking fuck you taste so damn good.” Negan muttered against your wetness. His tongue dipped just inside your slippery pussy before dragging back up to your clit.  Your hips bucked as his teeth raked against your swollen clit and a high pitched whine filled your throat.  

Negan’s arms wrapped around your upper thighs pinning you down as his mouth devoured you. Your fingers clawed at the comforter on his bed as you ached to buck and grind against his mouth. Your breath came in ragged pants as he brought you closer and closer to your release with his talented tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You panted as your back bowed off the bed and the tension built until your entire body felt taut.

“Come for Daddy baby.” Negan growled against your dripping cunt before he attacked your clit with renewed vigor.  He sucked the throbbing bud between his soft lips, his tongue flicking against the little bundle of nerves as he suckled.  His fingers dug into your soft flesh as your body tensed and trembled.  Negan’s eyes never left your face as you slowly came undone for him.

Your hands smacked at the bed as the dam burst and you cried out with your orgasm. Your vision blurred as you writhed in pure bliss and your honey like juices flowed to his mouth.  Negan moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations straight through your sensitive flesh that made you shudder with aftershocks.  

“Holy fucking hell.” Negan grinned as his head emerged from your trembling thighs, his salt and pepper scruff now wet with your slick.  “Taste fucking sweeter than cotton candy.” He chuckled as he lowered your legs from his shoulders.  

Your body was pliant and lax against his bed except for the heavy rise and fall of your breasts as your heart raced and you caught your breath. Negan’s hands drug up the insides of your thighs slowly before he stood back to his full height.  With your eyes closed basking in the bliss of your climax you didn’t see him get undressed but the rustle of clothing hitting the floor made you very much aware that he was just beginning with you.  

The bed dipped at your side and Negan’s strong hands were quickly under your arms pulling you up the bed where he wanted you.  Your eyes fluttered open revealing your glazed orbs as you stared up at the man.  The cocky grin on his face made his dimples prominent and turned you on more than you would ever admit to anyone.  

“Damn babydoll you are so fucking beautiful when you cum.” Negan brushed your hair away from your flushed face. “I want to watch that shit every fucking day.”

You hummed softly in response as you breathing evened out. “I won’t be here that long.” You smirked up at him. “So enjoy it while you can.”

“You aren’t going anywhere doll.” Negan’s voice held a glint of anger and his eyes narrowed as they locked on yours, the look of awe on his face fading to a hardened glare.  

Without another word Negan manhandled you onto your hands and knees. “Play time’s over baby, time for Daddy to get his dick wet.”

Negan moved behind you, his hands traveled up the back of your thighs, blunt nails raking along your skin making you shiver and a whimper fall from your lips.  “Goddamn look at this ass.” Negan groaned as his hands slid higher to squeeze the firm globes, using the grip to pull you back against his groin.  His hard cock sliding through your wetness and between the cleft of your ass made you arch against him.  “M’gonna fill this tight fucking pussy so good baby.”  He moaned as he rocked his hips, teasing your aching center with the length of his cock.

You hadn’t seen the hard length that was teasing through your slick folds but you could tell he was big and your body wanted it.  Long gone was the hesitation and fear that you felt a short time ago. Your pussy clenched around nothing with every filthy word that fell from his sinful lips and every touch of rough hands. You needed him, needed him to fuck you into oblivion.  

“You ready for this baby? Ready for Daddy’s dick?” Negan chuckled behind you.

You groaned as you pushed back against him.  “You going to fuck me or just talk about it?” A smirk curled your lips as you looked back over your shoulder at him.  

Negan growled his response, his fingers digging into your hips as the head of his thick shaft notched against your dripping opening. “Fucking hell.” He cursed as he slowly pushed into you. “Shit is fucking tight. Goddamn.”

“Oh shit.” A wanton moaned clawed its way from your throat as he slid deeper.  He was big, bigger than you had even thought and your body inched away from the large invasion.  

“Where the fuck you think you’re going baby?” Negan chuckled as your hips lurched forward to ease the pressure of his invading cock. “C’mon back baby. I know Daddy’s got a big fuckin’ dick but you can take it.” His hand fisted in your hair but his hips stilled. “C’mon baby. You’re going to take every inch of Daddy’s cock.” Negan waited for you to push back against him. He wanted you to impale yourself on his long thick shaft. “That’s it baby. Fuck, look at you. Almost there.” He moaned as your back arched and you slowly pushed back. You cried out as more and more of his cock filled you until the hard swollen head of his cock was nudging at your cervix. His hips pushed forward to sink that last inch into you making you scream. “Fuck yeah baby.  I knew you could fucking do it.  You got all of Daddy’s dick in you now, every fucking inch. Fuck, I wish you could see how pretty your little pussy looks so full of cock. Fuckity fuck your tight babydoll. Shit.”  He hissed through clenched teeth.

Your body shook in his grasp as his free hand gripped at your hip hard enough to bruise, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh.  “Jesus, do you ever shut up?” You panted.

“No.” Negan rasped as he suddenly pulled back until only his swollen cockhead was stretching your velvet tunnel before slamming his hips hard, driving every rigid inch back inside of you.  

Your hands clawed at the blankets of the bed as the breath was punched from your lungs with his brutal thrust. Every snap of Negan’s hips sent his cock deep into your clutching cunt with brutal precision.  In moments you were shattering.  The heat coursing through your veins, your pussy clamping down around his throbbing shaft as you screamed your climax.

“Fuck Negan.” You cried as you body trembled and shook.  

“What was that baby?” Negan growled against your ear as he draped his long body against your back. His breath was hot as it washed over you.  His hips rolled against your rounded ass, grinding his cock deep inside of you until the pleasured pain was almost too much.  

“Daddy.” The word came out as a breathy gasp as he gave a sharp quick thrust that made your toes curl.

“Mmm, fuck yeah babydoll.” Negan grinned before pulling out of you completely and sitting back on his heels.  A quick slap to your hip told you what he wanted and you rolled to your back.  

Negan’s large hands gripped the back of your thighs just above the bend of your knees and he spread you open wide, pinning your knees back to the bed.  “Fuck look at my sexy little girl.”

Slowly and steadily he began to sink his length into you. Your head rolled back and a guttural moan spilled from your lips as he spread you open wide with every thick inch that sank deeper and deeper.  Even with your previous orgasm your walls burned with the stretch of him.

“Fuck!” Negan shuddered as he buried his length into your clutching walls with one hard thrust.  

“Daddy!” Your scream echoed his cry.

“You are so fucking tight baby.” Negan groaned as he stilled himself inside of your fluttering squeezing walls. “Shit.” He hissed between clenched teeth.

“Fuck, taking my cock so fucking good.” He grunted as he as he pulled one leg over his broad shoulder. The new angle  allowing him to sink even deeper. Your slick walls burned with the stretch of the invasion and you panted through the sweet pleasured pain as he filled you so incredibly full. “Jesus, you feel so good.” he moaned as he pulled back until only the thick head of his cock spread your smooth petals only to drive himself hard and deep once more.  

The man above you kept a brutal pace as his cock drove into you at an incredible angle that had you falling over the edge once more.  Your back bowed from the bed as your hands clawed at his sides.

“Oh God, Daddy.” You screamed as you came undone. Your thighs quivered and you pussy clutched and spasmed around his meaty girth as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.  

“That’s it baby, fucking cum all over Daddy’s cock.” Negan growled as his own thrusts began to falter.  Your vision went white as the pleasure coursed through every nerve fiber.  

Negan’s hand slipped between your bodies, his deft fingers finding that throbbing bundle of nerves and stroking in hard fast circles.  You hadn’t come down from your last climax before he was pushing you head first into another.  It was too much, your body shook and your hips bucked and squirmed as you tried to get away from the over stimulation.

“No, no baby. “ Negan’s free hand gripped at your hip to keep you from squirming away.  “One more for Daddy. Cum one more fucking time princess.”  

“I can’t.” You whimpered and panted as you squirmed as much as you could in his grasp.

“Fuck yes you can.” His voice rough as his thrust grew harder and faster as he chased his own release with yours. “Yeah just like that baby.  Fuck I can feel it. You’re almost there. Fucking cum again for Daddy.”

The cord that had tensed once more in your body suddenly snapped as you threw your head back.  Your body went rigid as your slick gushed around his cock as you came with a wordless scream.  

Negan’s own body grew taut above you and he grunted and shook with the force of his release.  His cock throbbed and pulsed inside of your fluttering milking walls as he threw his head back.  His eyes clamped shut as the veins bulged in his neck and his fingers dug harder into your skin. “Fuck.” He roared as his body jerked and his hot seed flooded your core.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep. You wanted to stay awake, wanted to figure out a way to get to Sam and Dean but after the fear and stress of the day and the multiple orgasms that Negan had ripped from body you drifted off to sleep curled up at his side.  You had  been awoken several times that night, each time with the feel of Negan’s breath or lips against your body and the slide of his cock filling your well fucked pussy effortlessly as he took you at least twice more while you tried to sleep.  The man was insatiable.  

When your eyes fluttered open to greet the sunlight that was now streaming through the dusty glass of the window you groaned as you stretched. Your body ached and the soreness between your thighs made you wince.  

“Good fucking morning babydoll.” Negan grinned as he saw you stirring in his bed.  

You grunted softly as you moved to set up against the headboard looking over at Negan as he sat on his couch.

He nodded to the nightstand before speaking. “Breakfast. Figured you might be hungry after last night.” He smiled his shit eating grin at you.

“I want to see my brothers.” You all but glared at him.

“Fuck you are like a fucking broken record.” Negan sighed. “Eat your fucking breakfast and then I‘ll take you to them.”

You did as you were told but with a scowl on your face the entire time.  Your mind was reeling.  The man had to be the devil himself. No worse than that, you had met Lucifer and he wasn’t as bad as Negan.  Negan knew he had broken you down last night. He knew he had made you feel things that you shouldn’t have felt with a man like him, a man so like your father.  It made you feel ashamed, ashamed that you had given in to him so easily.  

Once your breakfast was finished Negan showed you to his shower to let you clean up with the promise to take you to Sam and Dean as soon as you finished.

“What the hell is this, where are my clothes Negan?” You asked as you picked up the small scrap of black fabric that he had placed on the end of the bed for you in place of where your clothing had once been.

“Put it on.” Negan grinned his cocky grin.

“No. Where are my clothes?” You glared at him.

Negan rose swiftly from his seat, picking up the small black dress and shoving it into your chest making you grunt. “Put it the fuck on.” He growled.

“Fuck no.” You stood toe to toe with the towering man.

Negan gripped your chin harshly in his strong hand tilting your head back as his fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to make you wince. “You will fucking put this goddamn dress on or you can kiss your fucking brothers goodbye and never fucking see them again.” He spoke between clenched teeth, his face inches from your own. “So, what’s it going to be babydoll, you going be a good little bitch for daddy or should I take Lucille and go pay your brothers a visit?”

“Fine, I’ll wear it.” You relented.

“Good girl.” Negan released your chin, giving your cheek a firm pat that made you grunt softly.  

Negan lead you down through the building until you were almost on the lower level. He pulled out his keys unlocking a door that lead to a long hallway.  The hallway was lined with doors that you assumed were their holding cells. There was one armed man on guard and Negan simply nodded to him before he moved to the very last door.  

“Open it up Jimmy.” He looked at the man before pointing his bat towards the door.

You jerked out of Negan’s grasp as soon as the cell door was open and you ran inside to find Sam and Dean sitting against the dirty walls.  They both stood as soon as they saw it was you entering their cage.

You threw yourselves at both of them, hugging them both at the same time, one arm around each of their waists as they hugged you at the same time.  

“Thank God you are okay.” Sam spoke as he placed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah, I’m okay. How are you guys holding up?” You pulled back to look them over. Other than looking tired and the few scratches and scuffs they both wore from the initial meeting of Negan and his men your brothers looked okay.  

“Five minutes babydoll.” Negan barked, suddenly standing in the doorway to the cell.  

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Dean’s eyes traveled over you from head to toe taking in the skin tight black mini dress and the black high heel shoes.

“Not my idea.” You rolled your eyes and nodded towards Negan.  

Dean’s jaw clenched as he took in your appearance further, his eyes drawn to the bruises at your neck and chest left by Negan’s mouth.  

“You sonofabitch.” Dean growled, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

You quickly stepped in front of Dean, your hands on his chest. “Dean don’t.”  

Negan grinned from his casual stance at the door, clearly amused by Dean’s anger.  “Got something you want to say to me pretty boy?” When Dean didn’t answer Negan grinned wider. “No? Don’t got the balls to stand up to your Daddy huh?” Negan chuckled.

Dean’s eyes snapped from Negan down to you. “You told him?”  

You couldn’t look up at him but instead stared down at the floor and nodded your head.

Dean’s glare moved back to Negan quickly. “She fucking told you and you still…?” Dean was seething now and you felt his body hum with his rage, muscles coiling ready to strike.

“Dean.” His name was a plea on your lips.  “Please.” You begged him. You knew if he went up against Negan unarmed that Negan would kill him. In fact you knew Negan was itching for any reason to kill them. You did the only thing you could think of and you wrapped your arms around your brother’s waist and hugged tight against him.  The softness of your body pressed against him broke the haze of rage that was coursing through Dean’s veins and made his hands unclench at his sides.  He wrapped his arms around you possessively even as he still glared at Negan.  

“Times up.” Negan growled.  

Dean dipped his head and placed a kiss to your temple as you whispered softly against his ear. “I’ll find a way to get us out of here.”  

You pulled away from Dean and hugged Sam before Negan grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly away from your brothers.

“That one brother of yours, what’s his fucking name?” Negan spoke as he practically dragged you down the hallway.

“Dean?”

“Yeah that’s it, Dean.  Well Dean-o is going to get himself fucking killed if he keeps giving me that fucking stink eye. I don’t like it when fuckers think they can look at me like that. I mean I get it, I fucked the shit out of his precious little sister but fuck, you offered yourself up. Was I supposed turn down a fine piece of ass like you? I don’t fucking think so.”  Negan ranted as his long legs carried him towards a destination of you were unsure of.  

“Negan you said you wouldn’t hurt them.” You looked up at him as he drug you along at his side.

“And I won’t doll face as long as you play ball.” He grinned down at you. “But that brother of yours, he tries something and I won’t have a choice.” He kept walking turning his gaze to look down the hallway before he suddenly stopped in his tracks. The abrupt stop almost making you stumble. “Oh I fucking get it now.” He threw his head back and laughed, his hips jutting out as his torso leaned back. “I do believe that the way Dean-o looks at you is a little un-brotherly like.” His tongue rolled against his lip. “That’s why he has his fucking panties in a twist. He’s pissed that I nailed you and he can’t.”

The lack of surprise on your face at Negan’s words was enough to make him laugh again. “I’m fucking right aren’t I and you fucking know it don’t you?” He was thoroughly amused at your expense.

Your turned your head away, unable to look into his eyes.  You knew he would see the truth if you looked at him.  You knew Dean thought about you in a very un-sisterly sort of way.  Drunken confessions late at night along with lingering looks and soft touches had brought the realization that your brother had feelings for his little sister that he shouldn’t, and they were not unreciprocated, but neither you nor Dean had ever acted on it.  Neither of you were willing to cross that line.  

“It’s okay baby.” Negan’s voice was suddenly at your ear, his gruff whisper making you shiver. “Maybe if you’re a good girl for Daddy I can arrange a little alone time for you and your brother.” He chuckled before standing up to his full height.  Your gaze snapped up to him, eyes wide. “Well not exactly alone time. I want to fucking watch that shit go down.” He laughed loudly.

“You are disgusting.” You spat at his towering form.

“You love it baby.” He grinned and began to tug you along down the hall once more.  

You soon found yourself being lead into another room where several other women, all wearing little black dresses, were lounged around on different chairs and couches.  They all barely looked up as Negan shoved you not so gently inside.  

“Welcome to the wives’ quarters.” He grinned and spread out his arms into the room.  

“Wives?” You looked up at him with wrinkled brows.

“Last night was the honeymoon. Welcome to the club sweetheart.” He grinned. “Get comfortable. I’ll come get you later.” And with that he turned on his heels and left you.  

**************

You soon found out that most of Negan‘s “wives” were not there by choice.  Most of them, just like you, were black mailed or coerced into their positions.

“Listen I don’t really care if you believe me or not, all you need to believe is that my brothers are really down there in that fucking cell and I need to get them out.” You sighed as you looked at Negan’s wife Sherry.  “If you can just tell me where he put our weapons then I can get them out. I can do the rest myself.”  

Sherry looked at you skeptically but finally shook her head. “If the weapons were as unique as you say they were then Negan would have wanted to keep them for himself.  They would be in his room.” She bit at her lip nervously.

“Great.” You ran your hand across your face before pinching the bridge of your nose.  Now all you had to do was figure out how to get into Negan’s room.  

“If I help you then you have to do something for me.” Sherry added as you sat in thought.

“What?” You asked looking up at her.

“There is someone else down there that Negan is holding prisoner.  He is good man.  You need to bust him out with your brothers.”

You nodded. “Sure. Deal.” You would do anything at this point to get out of there. Time was running out and the rift would be open again in only a few short hours.  

“Okay.  His name is Daryl.  He can fight too, he has skills, so once you let him out he won’t slow you down. He may even be able to help you guys.” Sherry added.

“Great. We could use all the help we can get.” You bit at your bottom lip.  “We have to figure out something and soon.  We are getting short on time.”

Sherry lead you through the large building back to Negan’s room.  She had talked to man named Dwight and found out that Negan was on a run and wouldn’t be back for a few hours.  

The hallway was thankfully empty as the two of you rounded the corner toward his room.  You recognized his door immediately.  

“I don’t know how we are going to get it. It’s locked.” Sherry looked at you.  

You just grinned, reaching out and stealing a bobby pin from her hair before you kneeled down in front of his lock.  Within a couple of minutes you had picked the lock and the door swung open.

“I’m impressed.” Sherry said with a chuckle.

“Comes with the job.” You grinned at her as you both entered the bedroom.  

The two of you quickly searched through the room.  You found your duffle bag first but the weapons were no longer inside with the other items.  Holy water, bible, journal, laptop, all the miscellaneous items were there but no weapons.

Sherry was looking through Negan’s closet while you began to search through the dresser drawers.

“Bingo.” You whispered as you pulled out Dean’s pearl handled gun along with the demon blade.  The next drawer held your gun which was a mirror image of Dean’s, the only thing that made them different was your initials engraved onto the barrel.  Your machete was in the bottom drawer as was Sam’s weapons.  

You quickly threw everything but your gun into the duffle.  You wish you could have found your clothes but they were not around.  You needed somewhere to hide your weapons but with the stupid little black dress you were wearing there was no where to put them.  You cursed under you breath and had no choice but to just carry your gun in your hand.   You grabbed up your duffel and slung it over your shoulder before heading out the door with Sherry leading the way.  

You both tried to hurry and yet appear as normal as possible as Sherry lead you down towards the cells.

Sherry entered the hallway first as you hid around the corner.  You could hear her talking with guard but not what they were actually saying.  You heard Sherry giggle and you knew she was flirting as the distraction.  You dared a look around the corner and just as planned she had maneuvered the man so his back was to you.  It was nothing to sneak up behind him and hit him over the head with the butt of your gun.  The man crumpled to the floor and you were quick to grab his keys.  

You unlocked Sam and Dean’s door first before tossing the keys to Sherry so she could free this Daryl guy.  Your heart was racing as you ripped the door open.  

Dean and Sam both rushed you, wrapping their arms around you in a quick hug before you pulled back and dug through the duffel to find their guns.  You handed them over with a smile.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” You looked up at the boys and they both nodded in return.  

Sherry was standing by the prisoner she had released. He was a rough looking shaggy-haired man.  He looked the three of you over and gave you a quick nod before turning and heading down the hall.  With a brief goodbye and a thank you to Sherry the three of you followed Daryl.  

You were impressed with Daryl as he lead you and your brothers down the hallways with stealth and ease and the three of you soon found yourselves out in the bright sunlight towards the back of the building.  There were a line of motorcycles parked just outside the door and Daryl went straight for a particular bike.  Dean and Sam both headed for the closest ones.

“Get on.” Dean barked as he squatted down at the side of the bike.  You climbed onto the back of the bike as you watched Dean fiddle with some wires on the engine before he quickly slid on in front of you.  The bike roared to life and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he backed the bike out. With Daryl in the lead, you and Dean in the middle, and Sam bringing up the rear the three of you road through the lot.  You didn’t release the breath you had been holding until all three motorcycles pulled through the gate of the compound and headed down the road.  

When you thought you had put enough distance between you all and the Sanctuary Daryl pulled over on the side of the road.  

Without stepping off his bike he spoke to the three of you.  “Thanks for the help back there.” His southern drawl made you smile.  

“Thanks to you too.” Dean nodded.  

“Don’t know where y’all are from but if you got no place to go you can come with me.  Got a pretty decent place with good people.” Daryl offered.  

“We appreciate that but we have a place.” Sam smiled.  

“A’right.” Daryl nodded.  “Thanks again.”

“Take care of yourself.” You smiled at him and for the first time the man smiled back.  

“Y’all too.”  

You, Sam, and Dean reached the wooded area where the rift would open with only ten minutes to spare.  The three of you stood at the ready and waited for its appearance.  

You noticed Dean’s eyes traveling over you as you stood in your heels and that stupid black dress.  You smiled sheepishly up at him. “I couldn’t find my clothes.” You muttered softly.

He chuckled softly and nodded. “Well, it’s not a bad look for you.” He winked before he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “But don’t worry, we’ll get you some new clothes at the next place. Mom should have something you can wear.”  

You nodded your head and wrapped your arms around Dean’s waist.  

The high and then low pitch of a whistle sounded through the quiet of the forest and it made you shudder against Dean.  

Dean was quick to move you behind him as he and Sam both drew their guns to face the man walking into the clearing.  

“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to Daddy now were you?” Negan cocked his head to the side as he smirked at the three of you.  

“Stay right there.” Sam warned as he aimed his gun at Negan.  

Negan just grinned as he sauntered forward with his bat slung over his shoulder.  The cocking of Dean’s gun had him stopping in his tracks and turning his gaze to your older brother.  

“Fucking hell.” Negan’s eyes went wide as they left Dean to fall on the glowing golden rift that suddenly appeared behind the three of you. “Holy shit, you motherfuckers were telling the truth.”

“Sam, take Y/n and go.” Dean barked, his gaze never moving from Negan.

“Not without you Dean.” You tugged on his jacket as Sam backed away towards the rift, his hand reaching out to grab your arm even as he kept his gun leveled on Negan.

“I’ll be right behind you sweetheart. I promise.” Dean’s voice softened but he didn’t look at you.  

You nodded and let Sam lead you the few feet towards the opening.  You stole one quick look back at your oldest brother and Negan before Sam tugged your hand and pulled you in with him.  

Dean’s jaw clenched and he swallowed thickly as he and Negan stared each other down.  For once Negan didn’t have his cocky grin on his face.  

“You know she fucking wanted it right?” Negan spoke with a seriousness that he didn‘t normally have. “I didn’t do anything to her that she didn’t want. She fucking loved every minute.”  

Dean’s eyes narrowed and a single gunshot rang out shattering the peacefulness around him before he lowered his weapon and stepped through the rift.  

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[finderskeepersff]

7.

What the hell do you even wear for Miami, I don’t really go away either. I stay in my own spot and just do me, I don’t go away. I mean going to New York City is a break for me, and also here it ain’t warm so I don’t really have clothing for that. I just shoved anything in this duffle bag, I am wearing a hoodie, fuck everything. Grabbing my beanie, it’s cold outside, well I am cold. Dragging open my bedroom door “mom!” I spat, I heard her walking and talking upstairs “yes Cassius?” she said “I am going away for the weekend, will be back. Don’t worry ok? I am just going away with a friend” my mom let out an oh “Myles?” shaking my head “just a friend but don’t worry, I am doing nothing wrong. Just a break away in Miami. That is it” my mother worries too much now, she feels she is losing her son’s to the system “ok, can you just call me to let me know you got there please?” nodding my head, pressing a kiss to my mom’ cheek. I don’t know how to feel about this at all, I mean I am going there as a friend to Sofia, which is fine but maybe I will feel wanted there or not but I will see. Knowing me, I will get stopped at the airport. I am like a walking target, imagine if they don’t let me leave but that can’t happen, I did do some research on this before agreeing to such a thing. I tried to pay for this beach house but Sofia declined, she said just pay for your flights. Which was sweet of her but I feel like I am the only person that didn’t pay for such a thing, I will try and slip some money to her.

I am late, I mean not late for the flight but late for the meet up. Closing the cab door, looking down at myself. Hoodie and cut off jeans is a little odd but it’s me, I don’t care for all that. Placing my hood over my head, walking into JFK airport. Sofia said they will be close to the front, watch me not see her because it’s me. I only see what is ahead of me, unless I am doing some dodgy shit I am then aware. I am tired as shit, I was awake late as fuck last night too. I am feeling so odd now, maybe cut off jeans wasn’t the best idea because I am actually cold, well my legs are. Looking around and all I see is plenty of people, breathing out heavily. I really haven’t lived outside of New York, I’m a simple man. I don’t care for breaks away, I didn’t really get the chance too either with being locked away for three years. Staring down at the text again, the meeting point is at the entrance. Where the fuck is a meeting point, is she feeling ok. Squinting my eyes looking around me, too much is happening and I am in the way “excuse me, ma’am” I said to this random lady “meeting point here, where is it?” I hope she can speak English “it’s right there” she pointed and it is right in front of my face, I can notice Sofia from a mile off, well when I know where I am going “thank you beautiful” walking off, I am very much a dumbass.

Mia clocked me first “the late comer decided to join us” pushing my hood back on my hoodie “I got lost” I said laughing at myself “seriously? Ain’t you come here before tourist” shaking my head “I ain’t ever stepped foot in this place, I ain’t ever flown before” Mia looked shocked “really? You a virgin then” I chuckled “erm yeah, hey Sofia” do I just stand here or hug her “oh yeah this is Olivia and Ivy, if you don’t remember. I mean they know of you” shaking their hands “this is their boyfriends, that is Mitch” a white guy “I’m Cassius” shaking Mitch’ hand “that is Lloyd and the ugly one is Kenton” the last dude side eyed Sofia “so we all have met now, I think we need to make movement” this is different, I am used to drug dealers and killers, I ain’t ever had this type of friends but I like different “are you hot or cold negro?” Mia pointed at my attire “I am a bit of both. I don’t know how to dress for these kind of events you see” Mia chuckled “we will look after you virgin, so you really ain’t left New York at all?” shaking my head “my family all in the vicinity of New York so why would I?” this is going to be different.

This is like a flashback to me, all this searching and shit. I don’t have anything I shouldn’t have on me, I am not stupid. I mean I have some money in cash but it’s not too much to be stopped about it “take everything off” Sofia said randomly “excuse me?” raising an eyebrow, she laughed at herself “no, not in that way. Take anything that can set the alarms off, watch, chain. Maybe the hoodie I don’t know but empty your pockets too, they are empty yes?” nodding my head, Sofia walked off and went through the security check. Some security officer waved at me to come forward, do I seem like I am up to no good. I sighed heavily as I knew for me the alarms would go off “you got anything metal on you besides the studs on your ears?” shaking my head “maybe that is broken?” let me be quiet “arms out” stretching my arms out, he kicked my legs open wider. My heart dropped, I assumed he was going to arrest me but he just searched me. It makes it worse because people are looking “large sum of money” he asked “never been away, first time” he stared at me dead in the eyes “gather your stuff, you’re all clear” I breathed out, this is why I don’t go anywhere. It’s too much of a headache.

I am a odd ball, I am sat next to a single mother and her child. I am assuming she is a single mother, I hope this child does not cry. I am sat so far from them all but it’s whatever “I knew it! I fucking knew it, I saw that gleaming forehead and I was like I dealt with him for three years. You have a shape up but you still the same” looking up seeing B “no fucking way!” I spat “I said I am coming out soon and I am out” getting up from my seat “you ain’t so ugly being out here” B hugged me, he loves a hug “I missed you when you left but shit, you here!? I am so hype” licking my lips “yeah I am going Miami with some friends” I pointed at them and then seeing that they are all staring at me “wow, they niggas gay? Hi friends! Friends of Cassius are mine too” he is never quiet “listen, just sit down. Before they kick us out, you need to give me your number? Why you going Miami” dapping him “new life, I am going there to start fresh, I am so happy to see you Cassius, you saved me” shaking my head sitting down “you’re a good guy too B, sit down now and give me your number when we get off” I am already feeling nervous so I don’t need him talking to me all the way through.

Resting my head back on the headrest, that is a weird feeling to be flying “hi” feeling someone use my arm to get up, looking to the side of me. The lady’ daughter is climbing on me, looking forward and seeing her mother is asleep “hi” I said back, this is great. The girl held my shoulder for support to stand up, I can’t really push her down “you going to sit down?” I asked, she shook her head, of course not “you can read your book” maybe her mother is tired but I am also tired, she reached down picking up her book and then placed it on my lap “oh wow, ok. I can’t read little lady” this is just my luck “don’t lie to her” my head snapped to my left seeing Sofia smiling down at me “I thought I would let you know there is a seat behind me free, I see you busy making friends. Hello there beautiful” I shrugged “she likes me more than you do, you ditched me” Sofia pulled a face at me “that is a lie, you was speaking to your friend and then you fell asleep when I walked over to you earlier. I have been checking on you like a child, but clearly you have a friend” looking over at the little girl, she is really just resting on my shoulder “you will be a cute dad you know” Sofia complimented “but if you want, you can sit with us” looking down at this book “you know what, I will sit here and read this book to her” I ain’t that much of a bad guy.

The little girl gave me a high five “I am sorry she bugged out during the flight, I am sorry. I didn’t get your name?” the lady said “I am Cassius, and it’s fine. She is a character, you be good now for your mother” the lady got her hand out to me “I am Jenny, and this is Eliza. So bye to the mister, I don’t know what happened. But thank you” stepping to the side “it’s cool, bye little one. Take care Jenny” Eliza waved at me, waving back at her still “you making my ovaries ache” looking behind me at Mia “thank you?” I said confused “they got off, I waited for you. I just wanted too, you know, say that be yourself. Also I think my friend really does like you a lot but she is scared of a lot of things, that is why I said be yourself” smiling at Mia “she left?” I said looking around “she did but you got me? How was the flight? Did you get scared” slowly walking off the plane “erm, a little. That little girl kept me company anyways” seeing B waiting for me “I just wanted to give you my number, and good looking out. I appreciate you as a friend” taking the piece of paper from him “be you nigga, that loud mouth negro” I said as I called hin “I will call you” he’s a good guy, just got a big mouth.

I’m always last on everything, Ivy I think it is waved at me on the mini bus. I go to pee and everyone disappears, I’m not about this going away life. Stepping on the bus, seeing Sofia is sat right at the back with her friends, we could have sat together, that sounds way too childish actually “come and sit closer to us!” Ivy shouted, walking further down the rows “is that better?” I asked, placing my duffle back on the seat and sat down “so you really not been away before?” One of the dudes asked “Kenton right?” I pointed “yes it is” I remembered “No, I don’t see the reason too” I shrugged “what do you do? Like work wise?” This is great “you think anyone would employ a nigga like me, I ain’t ever left the system. I’m just one of those niggas” I don’t know what else to say “I understand what you mean, I’m a stock broker. It’s hard for us but you got to push. You can do it” I bet all these niggas got good jobs “are you all stock brokers?” I asked “no, Mitch works in accounting and Lloyd is a manager at where Sofia works but it’s a different department” they have good jobs “I wanted to be an accountant, now I account for street money” is that even a thing “you can always do it?” The white guy said, Mitch I think “with a criminal record?” Their faces stared at me in horror “I ain’t going to kill any of you” this is everyone’ reaction to me, I ain’t good enough for this life besides the streets.

Stepping off the mini bus, I’m impressed. It really is a beach house, I mean it’s dope to actually see a beach in real life. It’s actually hot on these ends so I do need to take off my hoodie, I am dying “y’all must have paid a lot? This place is huge” I ain’t ever seen shit like this before “just as beautiful as I saw it! Yasss” Mia ran ahead, this is a dope ass place honestly. Shit you see in music videos, I am impressed “mr moody” Sofia nudged me, looking to the side of me “am I though? You been staying away from me, there was a free seat on the next aisle at the side of me, you been not sitting next to me and stuff” which is true “you upset about it? I am not doing it on purpose. I just don’t know. Like I don’t know how to you know, be us” slowly walking into the home “I feel judged though, like you know” I shrugged, I don’t know how to explain it “nobody is judging you, I think you are judging yourself Cassius” maybe I am “niggas with fancy jobs and then me” Sofia shook her head at me “ok and? Let’s just have fun, ok? And I will sit next to you mr sensitive” I had to laugh, maybe I am being that “but clearly that little girl got your attention so I also feel a little sensitive about that” she playing with me.

This place is a dream, I love it “so! Everyone, Sofia got something to say” Mia announced, I am too busy staring at the beauty of this place “ok, so initially I didn’t think Cassius would come so there is only four bedrooms. So I mean” Sofia dragged out “you can either put up with her snoring or on the couch?” Nia said, Sofia laughed hiding her face “bitch!” She spat, I shrugged “I can sleep on the couch” not that I care “he’s such a gentleman” imagine if I said I would sleep next to Sofia, the outrage but I’m not that type of guy “If you bring any pussy over just give us the word and we will go out” Mitch said “thank you” Mia side eyed Mitch “it’s not a pussy party, it’s literally my birthday” Sofia reacted with a quickness with her harsh self or butt hurt “your birthday was a week ago, like yeah” I like him, for a white guy he funny “we’ll see what the women of Miami can bring but I’m going to have to be my own hype man, y’all taken so yeah” I need to loosen up a little, I think it’s just that I feel inadequate about what I do, these are all good people and there is me.

Cassius is very quiet, I don’t know why. It was nice that he offered to sleep on the couch but I wasn’t about to give up on my bed anyways but he’s been a little quiet. I think him speaking on things like jobs and that he is a criminal which is not a bad thing, people can change “so shall we go down, see ocean drive. Hopefully the boys are getting on, I mean when are you going to make him your man?” Olivia came up behind me “if you don’t get the fuck out of here with that that shit” is she crazy “look, I need y’all to not fuck around with all this shit, let them just do them” Mia announced, she is speaking like I am not here “wow, I am here you know” it’s so warm out there and maybe I am showing too much leg but I don’t care, booty shorts and legs are out, I don’t get the chance to show my legs off as much “please and yass bitch, show the legs. Reel him in” I am so done with these, grabbing my bag “forget you all” walking out of the bedroom, I don’t get them. It’s like they want me to be with him but why, what makes them think he is good for me. I need to ask them this question, I am intrigued to know.

Sighing heavily seeing Mitch, Lloyd and Kenton all speaking together “erm, where is Cassius?” I asked looking around “well, he is outside there” Kenton pointed “oh ok, is he ok?” I asked, maybe they said something “erm yes, he is. He said he was having a blunt” letting out an oh, he probably thinks they don’t like him smoking it. Placing my bag on the table as I made my way outside, I don’t want him shying away like that. He seems like a well reserved man, he watches in silence. He does that a lot, it’s creepy but it works. He likes to work out things in his mind, I have noticed that from him. Pushing the sliding door more wide, watching Cassius pace around the pool as he smoked a blunt “it’s cool here bro, I thought they was about to arrest me for the money I had on me but they didn’t. He was giving me stank eyes” Cassius looked up at me but his eyes looked down to my legs, I waved at him smiling “yeah, I will call you later or something. If you just do what I told you, the returns will be better than you think, trust me on this. Bye” he disconnected that phone call he was on “how come you out here?” I asked “just smoking a blunt” he is still wearing a beanie and hoodie, is he feeling ok “you’re making me warm dressed like that” squinting my eyes at him “you’re making me sweat dressed like that” he retorted blowing the smoke out from his lips “you got a smart mouth, you always got to say something back” he placed the blunt between his lips as he walked by me, he is just something else “I keep telling you Sofia, we the same people” folding my arms across my chest watching him walk back inside.

Miami females are different, they real fake though. Blinking several times, her titties were huge “you see that?” Lloyd said to me in a whisper, I snorted laughing “I did” dapping him, he funny “ssshhh, don’t laugh. You know these female funny about shit” which made me laugh even more “why don’t you come here and sit next to me” Ivy said to Lloyd “I guess that is you” seeing Sofia get up from where she was sat, next to Ivy “I can look, I mean I ain’t touching” resting my arm on the back of the chair “why you in the way? The lady trying to serve us” the waiter is holding our food and Sofia is just in the way “oh sorry” Sofia said near hitting into the waiter “it’s ok” that means Sofia has to walk the other way around, I hope she can climb over my legs “what I tell you about being in the way?” Sofia looked down at me in annoyance “nothing, now can you please” she pointed at my legs, I shrugged smiling “seriously? I need to sit there?” clearing my throat “climb, you have the height leg wise” Sofia huffed out and placed her bag right on my crotch as she climbed over my legs “was that hard?” licking my lips smiling “mhmm whatever, move your arm” she pushed my arm back from the back of the chair.

Wiping my hands on the napkin “do you like it?” I pointed at her plate, Sofia nodded “it’s nice” nodding my head smiling, sitting back in the chair. Maybe I ate too fast but everyone is eating still, sighing out dragging my eyes to the back of Sofia. I don’t think I am good enough for Sofia, like we get on and she makes me happy as shit when I am with her but I feel like I am not good enough. Look at her friends, they all doing well for themselves. I can’t give her the dream, I am trying to chase mine three years behind. Rubbing my eyes, looking back at Sofia again just eating, this is stressing me out. I wish she never met Jordan but then I wouldn’t have met her “Cassius” I quickly looked away from Sofia “yeah” I said to Mia “nothing” she smiled at me “you ready to party? We going to the club after” I sighed out smiling “for sure, I am” I think she caught me staring at her friend, awkward.

[sweetbfs]

as a trans guy i get p dysphoric about my clothes, and ive tried wearing “””guy””” jeans for a while now but i dont think they help me much as passing bc im rather short (5’1”) so they tend to look a little baggy or loose especially when i sit down and i know clothes dont matter but some part of me tells me im not really trying when i want to wear my old jeans that actually fit :// (i also feel bad that my mom buys me jeans n i barely wear them) (i do enjoy the larger pockets tho)

as a trans guy with huge hips and a tiny waist, i’ve had so much trouble finding jeans that fit. not all guys jeans will look masc on you, and not all “girls” jeans will look fem on you. imo the best types of jeans are high waisted, plus if they’re too long i just cuff the ends up once or twice for added Gay Artsy look. in addition, the only thing you can do is try on guys jeans until you find the type right for you. belts help a lot, and you can find cheap and durable ones at h&m or target. as for “girls” jeans, try high waisted styles a size or two up. they should be baggy enough so they’re not skin tight, but not too baggy/loose. tbh i’ve had better luck w “girls” jeans, but you never know! try target, h&m, forever21, or old navy/gap. and don’t feel bad, at the end of the day it’s fabric and some types won’t always make your body look masc. good luck bud! - mod andy

Hey, I´m 5´1 and I have the exact same problem ! The thing about jeans is that you need to look for the right cut. Also, a good rule of thumb is that women´s run small and men´s run large - us short guys wanna aim right down the middle. If I´m in the women´s section I always look for boyfriend, straight leg, or relaxed fit jeans. In the men´s/boys sections, I look for skinny, tapered, sometimes bootlegs, or I try on enough jeans to find something that works.

Find something that can stay up without a belt, but fits perfectly when wearing one. Belts are a really ”masculine” accessory that not only can help you keep from looking frumpy, but that add a streamlined and professional look to your outfit as well. This is a tangent, but I´ve discovered (due to private school dress codes) the magic of belts as of late, and I´d recommend all guys out there pick up 2 belts - one brown, one black (there are some cheap & plain ones at Walmart - just make sure they fit). Also, it´s conventional to match your belt color to your dress shoe color. If you ain´t wearing leather shoes, you can forget about that.

Back to pants ! A fact of life for shorter guys is ill-fitting pant legs. For jeans, the easy way out it to cuff them, James Dean style. Rolled up legs don´t stick out or look frumpy so long as you style them right and that the cut of the jeans allows for a cuff that hangs closer to your legs rather than looking like Kevin Smith´s jorts. If you´re going the cuffing route, cuff them while trying them on in the store to make sure they look alright. If you think cuffing looks bad, you´re gonna have to have them altered.

Altering jeans isn´t as scary as it sounds. The easiest way is to just measure out the right amount and cut them off. It gives a worn and frayed look to the denim, as well as ensuring that you don´t trip on the long legs. If you hate the frayed denim trend, either you or a family member/friend are gonna have to seam the new pant legs - either by hand or by sewing machine. I´m rusty with my sewing skills, but there are plenty of youtube videos that can walk you through the process better than I can. If you don´t have that option, find a local tailor. Taking up pant legs is one of, if not the, easiest alterations out there, so it shouldn´t cost you much.

I know you only mentioned jeans, but I´m going to talk about slacks as well (sorry, like I said, I´m a private school kid). I never wore slacks before this year, aka my first year at Catholic school. They aren´t for everybody, I´ll tell you that much, but I´d recommend at least trying out one pair, preferably cheaply made and without a liner. Again, I get all of mine from walmart. It all depends on your fashion sense, but because my fashion sense lies along the lines of ivy-league dropout, slacks work great for me. Even if you´d never touch slacks with a 10-foot pole for street clothes, they work great whenever you´re going to someplace snazzy and want to avoid the possibility of having only skirts or dresses to wear, so try and find one pair that fits and you think are half decent. As my grandma said: better to have them and not need them, than to need them and not have them.

Because slacks aren´t denim, there aren´t many skinny-jean-like slacks in the women´s section - most are more relaxed. The men´s section tends to have slacks that run wider in the ass than most men´s jeans, at least from what I´ve noticed, so do be mindful of that as well. You can cuff slacks, but tbh I never do and always have mine altered. I´m just the opposite with jeans, if you were curious.

As for where to shop, I can´t recommend thrift stores enough. They´re cheap and have great selection, as well as it´s easier to convince parents to let you try on clothes there that they would think are silly (ie clothes that go along with your gender identity) then it is at a Macy´s or something, at least from my experiences. Also - Walmart is great (g-d knows I´ve plugged them enough in this post), but I also wanna mention Target. While Xmas shopping for my dad, I bought myself a nice dress shirt from their brand Goodfellows that fit great for being a men´s dress shirt, which are usually a nightmare for me. They looked to have some really nice stylish pants that I´d recommend peeping.

I had the same problem with guilt over unworn feminine clothes. Talk to your parents about your clothes ! Tell them that your fashion sense has been evolving as of late, or you want to try the current trend of more relaxed pants. It´s annoying, but it keeps them from buying clothes that make you feel dysphoric, and help improve your chances of your parents buying you clothes that you actually like ! Though I don´t celebrate Christmas, my mother got me clothes that I loved this year as a gift. Last year I hated every piece of clothing she got me, but everything this year was wonderful and masculine, and even though we have to go back to the store because nothing fit (lol), I was genuinely really happy with my clothes.

And clothes do matter. Since coming to the conclusion that I was trans, I gradually changed both my closet and my body language over the past years and they´ve helped me pass a lot better. Despite being 5´1, skinny as a rail, and a junior, I had everyone at my Catholic school (correctly) assuming I was a boy, and (incorrectly) assuming I was a freshman for a good 2 weeks at the beginning of the school year ! Passing doesn´t matter at all, unless passing makes you feel better. It´s a shitty, cisnormative ideal that can be easy to reach sometimes, and impossible to reach other times. But if passing helps alleviate dysphoria for you, as it does for me and a ton of other trans people, then I wish you all the best ! Oh, also, get a watch ! Don´t ask me why it works, I honestly have no idea, but I swear it made me pass like a dream when I started wearing one. Get a decent, gender neutral/manly watch that´s at least medium on the size scale between tiny ”women´s” and giant ”men´s” watches, and you pass SO much better. Drop $20 at, of course, walmart, hit up the jewelry section of your local thrift shop, ask your parents if they have any you might like - just get one.

It´s like 1am here and I spent ages typing out that monster of an answer, I hope that helps and is somewhat cohesive. G´night anon, good luck with your pants !

- Mod Llewellyn

[gothic--fairy]

Hi! I was wondering, can u do a prompt " like 5 times Magnus makes Alec laugh, and one he time he does it in like a downworlder meeting," where everyone sees him dying of laughter, but they're happy to see him so happy and care-free This might sound a lot (sorry about that!) but I think you're an amazing writer and your writing is so beautiful!

5 Times Magnus made Alec laugh in private and 1 Time he did it at a Downworld Meeting

Malec Drabble #16

One

It was only a couple of hours after healing Luke and both of them were sitting on a sofa together, pleasantly buzzed. Magnus has already made them a third drink and slowly it seemed the invisible barrier between them started to fade. 

“So,” Alec spoke up, turning sideways to face Magnus and propping his arm on the back of the sofa. He was fiddling with the stem of his glass, looking at his hands and unconsciously bit his lip for a second. “I still don’t know what you told Jace in order to bring me here.” 

Only then, Alec looked up and connected their gazes. It was deep and somewhat flirty to Magnus’ surprise, but curious nonetheless. 

“Like I said before - It was a lie. A very bad one if you ask me.” Magnus finished his drink in one gulp with a smile on his lips. Alec watched as he crossed his legs and leaned forward, lessening the space between their bodies.  

“A lie? Jace isn’t exactly one to believe something that easily.” 

“Oh, he didn’t at first. But, let’s say, I loved to have another chance at wiping that grin off his face.” 

Magnus didn’t expect to hear a soft chuckle after his words. Initially, it was only a light rumble in Alec’s chest, but his smile grew wider and soon he turned his head as if trying to hide it.  

“You know that there aren’t many people who are able to do that, right?” he said, his laughter still sounding in his voice.  

“Oh, Alexander, you have no idea about all the things I’m capable of.” Magnus replied, his own smirk showing. 

Two

Magnus loved mornings. Loved the rays of sunshine dimmed by the silky curtains, the tingly feeling of his body gradually coming down from a nice slumber and the heavy arm draped across his stomach, keeping him close. Yes, he loved it. Especially the last part. 

It was so amazing to wake up like that. Alec lying next to him, his face pressed against the sensitive skin of his neck, his breath sending shivers all over him.  

Except, that moment never lasted long enough. By the time Magnus fully opened his eyes, Alec was already pulling away from him to get ready for a full day of work. 

“Mhm, don’t.” Magnus murmured one morning, firmly holding onto the hand that rested against his heart just a minute ago. “You can’t go yet. I’m still sleeping.”  

He earned a quiet laugh and warm embrace that ensued. 

“I have to.” Alec whispered with lips close to Magnus’ ear, planting a kiss.  

“Traitor.” Another giggle and two mote kisses later, Alec’s arms disappeared again. 

“Sleep well. I love you.”  

Three

“You must be kidding me, Alexander.” Magnus said, leaning onto the headboard of Alec’s bed with a smug smile. “The two of us alone in your room at night, while you family’s asleep. Who knows what could happen?”

“Yeah, very funny.” Alec snickered back, barely looking at Magnus as he tried to fish out some sweatpants from the bottom of his wardrobe. “You’re too tired to make a portal, which means we’re staying here.”

Turning around he continued, grinning: ”And get those ideas out of your head. I know what you were thinking!” 

“I didn’t!” Magnus exclaimed with a devilish glint in his eyes, raising his hands in surrender. “I swear, I had no plans at tarnishing your honor. Though, it’s very hard to resist when you’re wearing those jeans, dear.”

It made a blush crawl all the way up to Alec’s ears. Even after the time they spent together, Magnus had an ability to fluster Alec with a simple look or a comeback. 

“You’re impossible.” Alec tried to say, but his words were swallowed in the wave of laughter erupting from his lungs.  

Four

“Another shopping date with my sister? C’mon, Magnus, you go out with her more that you do with me.” Alec spoke up, mockingly pulling out Magnus’ cellphone from his hand, not letting him finish the text he was writing. Magnus and Izzy grew fond of each other very quickly and it always took Alec a moment to realize how much Magnus became a part of his life. 

“That’s not true and you know it, Alexander!” Magnus said, stealing Alec’s cup of coffee in return, but scrunching his face at the taste. “No sugar? How dare you?! It shouldn’t even be legal.” 

Alec’s laughter filled the room and Magnus couldn’t help, but drape his arms over Alec’s shoulders and kiss those smiling lips, setting the cup aside.  

“I’m gonna drink my coffee the way I want, thank you very much.” Alec retorted, his arms strong around Magnus’ waist, pressing their bodies together.

“Bo-ring.” Magnus sing-songed and brought him even closer, feeling another chuckle vibrate through Alec’s chest. 

Five

“I swear I’m dying.” Magnus exclaimed as he gracelessly threw himself onto the couch, face down on the pillow. He was helping Alec with finding a nest of a rare demon species, which basically meant that he had spent three days in a row drowning in old books, dead languages and paperwork. And as much as he loved a good read, going through dozens of reports each stating a different thing with different looking demons, was not his idea of fun. 

“I know you’re tired.” Alec said, sitting next to Magnus’ lying body and placing his hands on his shoulders. He moved them just slightly, massaging the tension in his back, and continued with a smile. “But you’re not actually dying.”  

There was a minute filled only with Magnus’ groans and huffs as his muscles melted under Alec’s gentle but firm touch. 

“You can’t know that.” Magnus breathed out, protesting. He turned his body around, leaving Alec’s hands leaning at either side of his head. “Oh, Alexander!” he said in a high mocking voice, tautingly spreading his arms and then placing a hand over his heart. “My archery prince on a white horse, save me from the tedious ordeal of filling all those Shadowhunter reports!”

Immediately, Alec’s lips were tugged upwards in a wide smile, laughing.  

“You’re such a drama queen sometimes.” he told Magnus, leaning down for a quick peck. “No, scratch that. You’re always the drama queen.”

+ One

“This concludes our topics for today. There is just one last thing I’d like to talk to you about and that is the new type of fire messages.” Alec was standing in front of the Downworld representatives, coming to the end of the meeting. “One of the main problems of fire messages has often been legibility. It didn’t matter how careful you were, there was a big chance of an enemy getting a message and reading sensitive information out of it.”

After Valentine’s war, there has been many questions about the reliance of indirect messages and impersonal communication in the Shadow world. Despite the fact that majority of the new generation came to terms with modern technology, there were still doubts and uncertainties from different parts of both the Downworld and the Shadowhunters themselves. Many of them considered magical communication as the only sure way of delivering important information without the chance of it leaking out. 

But fire messages - the most popular and easiest way of communication - seemed to have the least level of protection, leaving anyone to read the message freely before it disappeared.  

“In the past weeks we’ve been working closely with the New York warlocks in order to present you with a completely new way of sending fire messages. They can be read only by directly chosen person and will seem illegible to everyone else.” Alec finished and looked at Magnus, nodding his head. With the snap of his fingers a message began to form in front of Alec.  

“As you can see, there is no way for you to understand..” he broke off, catching an evil grin form the side as he quickly ran his eyes over the words in front of him. Instantly, his cheeks tinted red and he couldn’t help a laugh escaping his lips. 

“Damn it, Magnus.” he mumbled, trying to get his smile under control. Instead of some greeting words they agreed on, the message was filled with suggestive jokes, innuendos and very bad and lewd pick-up lines. Magnus really took his care to dig up the worst kind he could possibly find. 

Alec almost couldn’t breathe from the waves of laughter that racked through him. “I’m sorry, this is very unprofessional.” 

“Dios, Magnus.” Raphael came in at last. “What did you write there to torment the boy?” 

“Me?” Magnus asked in a faked innocent manner, but smirking all the same. “I have nothing to do with that!”  

In the end, it was Luke that had to call the meeting over, tapping Alec on the back and giving him a warm fatherly smile.

First of all, thank you so much for those kind words! I literally screamed when I first saw them! (My mom now thinks I’m crazy, hh)

And sorry this is so late. And messy. I’m just not very good at doing 5+1 Things (T-T). 

Read on Ao3.

Promt Me/Ask Me. 

[dcbicki]

Do dan/amy with #1

1. Things you said to me at 1AM | Post s-6, in which Amy is eight months pregnant, there's a crib that needs building, and Dan is a complete fucking tool.

(Bitch, I went well over a thousand words with this, so… thanks for that.)

-

Arriving home, she hadn’t expected to see a couple dozen boxes - some smaller, some larger - littering the rooms of the apartment.

“Dan!” She’d called out, hoping to find her roomate-come-baby-daddy-but-definitely-not-partner nearby. He’d called to say he’d be home early. And it’s gone twelve, so where the fuck-

“In the other room.”

She’d found him crouching down on the floor, all jeans and crinkled shirt, holding up two pieces of white wood.

The crib. Right.

She’s been here ever since, in a room bound to become a nursery, watching him toy around with the unassembled pieces of the child’s bed.

“You know, Catherine and Marjorie just ordered theirs. And it came pre-built.” She clicks her tongue, types some shit into her phone, looks over at Dan, “Then again, they aren’t as fucking extra as you.”

“I’m not gonna be fuckin’ upstaged by a sophomore lesbian and her backup sperm donor.”

Amy rolls her eyes, tries to avoid cracking a smile, “At least she chose the baby’s genes.” She doesn’t bring up the fact that Dan was the original donor, “This baby’ll probably come out with a head full of gel, clutching a fucking iPad.”

She holds her phone until her knuckles turn white - nothing new there - as if to demonstrate her point. Then she crosses her legs, and lets it drop (odd) into her lap, keeping a straight face as she watches him.

It’s past midnight, and they’re still no closer to having the fucking crib built.

“Remind me again why you didn’t just let the delivery guy do it instead?”

There’s a hex key, a couple dozen pieces of varnished white wood, and some bits and pieces laid out on the floor. They’ve been there for about an hour and half, and Dan doesn’t seem to have even built one side of the fucking thing.

“I’m not having some white trash truck driver’s grubby hands all over my kid’s bed, alright? Fuck, do you really want those kinda germs hanging around the apartment?” He scowls.

Yeah. Sure. That’s it. He’s such a cheapskate when he wants to be.

“I can build a fuckin’ crib, Amy. Jesus.” He grumbles, tosses down a wrench (she’s pretty sure he doesn’t need a wrench), and rests his hands on his hips, untucking the shirt from his pants. “You wanna give it a shot?”

“Because you can’t?” The blonde raises a brow, smirks, “No. It’s actually kinda fun watching you struggle.” She reasons, crosses her legs comfortably, sitting Indian style.

“Oh, yeah?”

Amy hums, nods her head and leans back in the rocking chair. It’s uncomfortable as all hell, but Sophie suggested they buy one. (And she listened why?)

“Even Mike can handle a little DIY, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, well, that neanderthal was around when they were still making tools out of wood so that’s not surprising, Ames.”

She grins, “Hell, I’m sure even Jonah could do it if you gave him a tutorial.”

The daggers he shoots her make her smile widen, and Amy raises both brows at his retort, “Fuck you.”

Dan bites at his bottom lip for a second, wipes the bridge of his nose with his wrist. (As though he’s been working hard. Please.)

There are two slats of wood at his feet, perpendicular and screwed together. It’s the most he’s done so far. (Is that even right?) She could probably have the thing built in ten - no, twenty - minutes or so, but she won’t lend a hand. Fuck no.

He said he could do it. He can prove himself. Besides, it’s really kind of amusing to her to watch him fail miserably. Then again, he hasn’t exactly been trying very hard.

Reaching down, Dan picks up the instruction sheet, balls it up in his fist before tossing it in the box the unbuilt crib arrived in. They had a bunch of furniture unloaded several hours ago, but so far none of it has been constructed.

Luckily she’s only eight months along, and they’ve still got some weeks to go before the little fucker arrives.

“Well, that’s good. Now what are you gonna do?” Amy teases, leans back so the chair sways back and forth, creaking against the hardwood floors of their apartment. Damn him for making her move in with him. “I mean you couldn’t even build it with instructions, so now-”

Dan holds up a finger, lifts both brows confidently. “I’m waiting for a moment of genius.”

“We don’t have all night.”

“You got a better idea, Mom of the Year?”

“Yeah. You could call the store, and they’d send someone out to do it.”

“It’s one in the fuckin’ morning. What kinda service do you think they’re providing, Amy? Fuck.”

“Not right now, you fuckwit.” Amy frowns, rolls her eyes and head back so she’s staring at the ceiling. How did that mark get- “I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”

“No.” He damn near cuts her off, walking over until he’s stood in front of her, resting both hands on the sides of the chair. “No, you won’t. Because I’m gonna get this thing done, even if it kills me.”

“Wow, you really don’t like sucking at stuff, do you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You knew that already.”

“True.” She agrees, lowers her gaze to meet his, but she keeps her head titled back, hands running along the armrests of the chair, carefully avoiding touching his hands, “I don’t want you to overexert yourself to death, though. I mean, you didsay you’d help out with the kid. And you did promise that I could be the one to kill you when you’re ninety if you haven’t already died of natural causes.”

“Well, Amy, this is me helping out with the kid.”

She snorts back a laugh, “Really? Because it looks like this is just you trying to prove yourself. No need to compensate for anything, Dan. I’ve already seen your dick. It just about does the trick.”

“Just about?” He stands up straight, traces of a smirk beginning to form on his face.

Ah, yes. One of his three facial expressions. Disgust, confidence, terror. She likes imaging which face he’ll make when she gives birth.

Amy shoots him a look à la ‘Shut the fuck up and get on with it’. Looking up through long lashes, she notes how he hasn’t moved, is still towering over her. “Are you going to fucking build it or not, asshole?”

“Are you gonna fuck me if I do?”

“God, you’re a child.”

“No, Amy. I’m a man who would like some recognition for his hard work.”

Wait. Did he- That fuck weasel.

“Have you been screwing me this whole time?”

Dan smirks, wider than before, and he shrugs, nonchalant, “Maybe. That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you’ve wasted over an hour of my life by pretending to be bad at something you can apparently do, because it was kind of fun to witness your would-be emasculation anyway. But, no. I’m not going to fuck you. Jesus Christ, you were just playing me like one of your little college bimbos.”

“Ames, you know I gave up sleeping with other women for you.” He tilts his head to the side, all proud and smug, like it’s a massive accomplishment. She wouldn’t believe him if it weren’t for the fact that she threatened to chop his dick off, and she knew just how much he treasured King Danny - God, that name - and he knew just how serious she was with her threat.

“But I still don’t wanna be upstaged by Catherine and her side-bitches.” His eyes crinkle then - is that a fucking smile? - and Amy can only frown. “I guess I just have more interest in getting our new bed up and ready instead.”

They don’t even have a new bed to build, so what the fuck is he getting it ready for-

“Oh, fuck, no.”

She pulls a face, shakes her head, stands up and goes to walk off all in the flash of a second - because fuck him - until his hand catches her elbow. It’s gentle, and she kind of hates him for it. Then again, she’s eight fucking months pregnant and he’s not a complete animal.

“Amy.”

“Fuck, Dan. I can’t believe you ever roped me into this in the first place.”

“Into fucking?”

“Into moving in with you, you goddamn unflushable turd.”

“You love it.” He smirks - because of course he does - and Amy hates herself for smiling back.

“I don’t love you, though.”

“You like me more than you like anybody else.” He reasons, steps closer until she’s flush against him, all bump and breasts. Fuck.

“Yeah, well, I’m the only person that you like, so-”

“Yeah. You are.”

It’s one o'clock in the fucking morning, which means they should be sleeping, not having a heart to heart. Or, well, a… discussion pertaining to matters of the heart had either of them possessed a heart?

“I do like you, Amy.” He grins, reaches for her chin.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you love me.”

“Fuck you.” She steps back, wills herself to ignore his lingering gaze, “Build the fucking crib, asshole.”

“Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah. You’re not welcome to join.”

“After I build this fuckin’ IKEA piece of crap?”

She comes back into the room to pick up her abandoned phone, shoots him a brief look before spinning back around, knowingly letting his eyes dance along her back and ass, “If you can build it in the next twenty, no… ten minutes.”

“I can do it in five.”

Amy rolls her eyes down the hallway, waves a hand behind her, rests her free hand on her stomach, “Your dad’s a fucking moron.”

[gothify1]

Recently I was in NYC for work and while catching up with some of my colleagues, the topic of Levi’s jean fits came up. They asked me for any wisdom about which styles were best and what they should look for. The next day, an invitation to come to Coachella with Levi’s landed in my inbox. Denim destiny? I thought so. Fast forward a few weeks, and there I was in Palm Desert surrounded by every Levi’s jean fit you can imagine, from their new product to vintage finds. Plus, their design team was on hand to give fit advice and walk us through each and every pair. I tried on a giant stack of jeans—I’m embarrassed to admit I was a bit of a dressing room hog that day, but anything for the story right? After photographing my favorites including some Boomerangs to capture them in action, I was surprised to find that my picks were all new styles. I’m a bonafide vintage jeans devotee, so this was not what I expected at all. To get more insight into the backstory of each style and how they fit, I sat down with Karyn Hillman, Levi’s Chief Product Officer. Keep reading to hear her take on all of my favorite Levi’s jeans fits, plus my point of view too. P.S.: If you’re thinking about snagging a pair yourself and need a reference point, I’m 5’4’’ and wear a size 26. Levi’s Take:“The Wedgie is an absolute best-seller. It was really inspired by an ‘80s vintage 501 mashed up with a ‘50s vintage 501, kind of a pin-up jean. The Wedgie is snug throughout the top-block (aka the top section of the jeans) and it nips in throughout. We launched the jean fit with a skinny leg, and when we introduced a straight-leg version (pictured), people loved it. It has the best of both worlds: I’m sexy on top and I’m nipped in, but then has that cool-girl leg shape that’s a little bit more relaxed.” — Karyn Hillman, Levi’s Chief Product Officer My Take:Even though I knew tons of fashion girls loved the Wedgie, I had actually yet to try it before this trip. The blue pair I tried is 100% cotton, meaning it’s a non-stretch denim, just like my favorite vintage pairs. Because it’s non-stretch, I had to go up a size to get the right fit. The white pair had a bit more stretch, so I could take my normal size 26. The top-block reminded me 100% of how a vintage pair looks and feels, which in my opinion, is hard to find in the denim world. In the non-stretch blue pair, I felt like they flattened by butt just a little, and this is likely because of the material. The white pair with stretch made my rear view a bit more appealing (to myself at least!). I can absolutely see why this style is fan favorite, but I was excited to try their newer style making waves in the fashion world, the Ribcage… Levi’s Take: “The Ribcage launched in November, and it’s inspired by 501 again, but actually the ‘90s versions of the 501 mashed up with the ‘70s versions of the 501. The Ribcage is the highest rise ever. Compared to the Wedgie, the Ribcage is tad bit more extreme in the uprightness and how it shapes you and holds you in. But also, right at the hip it is a bit straighter and releases a little bit compared to the Wedgie, which nips in at every point.” — Karyn Hillman, Levi’s Chief Product Officer. My Take: At the Levi’s Coachella event I saw people with different shapes, sizes, and style types trying on the Ribcage, and it was surprising how good one jean style looked on everyone. My favorite version was the Ribcage Wide-Leg (pictured), but they also have the Ribcage with other leg silhouettes. I have since incorporated this pair into my top three pairs of jeans on rotation, because I love them so much. The wider leg feels fresh and relaxed compared to a straight leg, but I love that it still has the super tight, high-rise top block that lends some sexiness to the look. These jeans play incredibly well with a cute crop top, and made my butt look shapely, but in a more relaxed way. This exact pair isn't available yet, but the straight-leg version is shoppable now, which has the same top-block. Levi’s Take: The Dad Jean is different from the Mom Jean, which is high and nipped at the waist with an extreme taper. The Dad Jean is inspired by how cool girls in the ‘90s wore their 501s upsized with just the right amount of slouch.  The Dad Jean is made for today with a rise that sits just below the waist, relaxed through the hip and thigh, and extends into a loose straight leg.” — Karyn Hillman, Levi’s Chief Product Officer. My Take:                             The Dad Jean definitely has a slouchy cool-girl effect. They’ll probably be your comfiest jeans you own, because they’re not made to fit your body like a second skin. If I was to pick a pair to wear on a flight, they’d definitely be these. They're not available yet, but will be launching soon.  Levi’s Take:“We love a good vintage inspired short pair of shorts a la the High Rise 501 Short. However, we also have been feeling for a slightly slouchier fit with a longer length, hitting around mid-thigh, which is why we created the super easy and effortless Slouch Short.” — Karyn Hillman, Levi’s Chief Product Officer. My Take: As someone whose job it is to identify trends before they blow up, I can say with confidence that Levi’s is smart for getting in on the long short. All the cooler denim brands are offering their take, and it’s poised to give short shorts a run for their money. I liked that this pair is just loose enough so they’re not like denim bike shorts, but are still tight enough to make a long short flattering on me. Levi’s Take:“Of all vintage jeans, the iconic Levi’s 501 are the most sought-after jeans in the world. If you want to try another vintage cut, we are also obsessed with the 517, a classic bootcut popular in the ‘70s. Bootcuts are universally flattering, and we’ve introduced several bootcut and flares into the line, from a sexy Ribcage Split Flare and Ribcage Cropped Flare to our beautiful 715 Bootcut.” — Karyn Hillman, Levi’s Chief Product Officer. My Take:If you are looking for the classic body-hugging vintage jeans that are super popular now, 501 is likely the Levi’s jean fit you’re after. You can see from the rear-view shot that it makes my butt look the most lifted and full of any of the styles. Although full disclosure, I have had this pair altered to custom fit my body. If you’re in L.A., the geniuses at Denim Revival are experts at this. You can see how they took in the jeans in the back, making the back pockets closer together for an ultra-snug fit. This pair has been my ride-or-die vintage jeans for several years now. And although they definitely make the booty pop the most, this also means they’re so tight that I won’t wear them when I want to be super comfortable. After trying the Ribcage style, I had the realization that my go-to vintage 501s were perhaps trying a bit too hard for that perfect butt-hugging look. It’s obvious they are tight with a capital T. Perhaps that’s why the slightly subtler, though definitely still appealing, rear view the Ribcage provides has become my new favorite. Next up, check out the new trends everyone is wearing with jeans.

[theforestwarden]

Seeing the Forest Through the Woods | Solo

Word Count: 3,013 Triggers: Emotional Abuse Mention Timeline: The night of 7/19 Featuring: Atwood Walker (And Mention of Ward Walker)

If Forest knew what was going to happen he would have worn nicer clothes.

But of course he didn’t know that interdimensional travel was even a thing let alone a thing that was going to happen to him. At 11pm at night. While he was in sweatpants and his ‘Looking Sharp’ cactus tee shirt he got at plant con last summer. Luckily though it happened suddenly, Forest barely registering what was going on until he was standing barefoot at the end of a seedy bar, filled with seedy looking people, who were now staring straight at him.

Glancing around at all of the faces Forest opened his mouth to say something, but his words were stolen from him as that all too familiar burning sensation crept into his mind. This time though, this time it was nothing he’d ever felt before. It was as if someone had set his arms on fire, the pain so intense he could feel his knees buckle out from underneath him, hands grasping for the wood of the bar. But it was too late, his body finding the slightly sticky floor before Forest could protest.

“Woods are you ok?” One of the parton’s closest to him asked as he slid off of his bar stool the jingle of metal signaling his approach. Even through the streaks of pain that danced through his vision Forest could see that the dude was concerned for him, or whomever he was supposed to be. “What’s going on?”

Looking up Forest tried to tried to answer but he couldn’t figure out what words to use, how to express what he was feeling at this moment, the pain the confusion, the just, everything.  

“Don’t know, but it’s safe to say I’ve never felt better.” came the voice above him, cigarette smoke accosting his nostrils. Opening his eyes towards the voice Forest could feel his mouth open in shock, eyes opening wider. Because it was as if he was looking in a mirror, the person staring back at him the same person he saw everyday in the bathroom. Except, this person, this person was different somehow. He held himself differently. I mean he was holding a beer, a shoving a pack of cigarettes into his jeans pocket for pete’s sake. And just-

Was he dreaming?

He had to be dreaming right?

Like this was too weird not to be like a passed out fever dream right?

“Wait. If you’re there then he must be one of those-” Came the voice of the first man, practically taking the words out of Forest’s own mouth

And that’s when it hit him. He wasn’t dreaming, he must be in that place, the Ash River place people kept talking about. And if this town was anything like Ashkent Creek they would know what was happening right here right now and they would know how to get him back to his own dimension somehow. Or so he hoped.

“Forest.” He croaked through the pain pointing to himself “Ashkent Creek.”

His dopplelganger smiled at him, crouching down to meet his eyes. He smelled like cigarette smoke yes, but underneath, there was a sense, a sense of familiarity, a sense of knowing, even though Forest had never met this person in his entire life. Or rather he’d never met another version of himself.

There  was a small pause with blue green eyes meeting blue green eyes. And Forest could see like, there were difference yes, but. It was him in a way. I mean yes he was dressed better, there was no doubt about that, the pair of nice dark wash jeans fitting his double like they were made for him, and the sleeves of his nice collared shirt rolled up in such a casual and effortless way that Forest knew he could never replicate. But he was the same inside, Forest could feel it, from the way his perfectly coiffed hair didn’t quite hold in the gel this late at night, or the small practically polka dot pattern of - and Forest couldn’t help but internally smile at this- of cacti littering his shirt.  “So your mom give you that one?” The doppelgänger asked after a small snort. As if he didn’t just ask the weirdest question one could ask after basically meeting your double.

Real Forest raised an involuntary eyebrow “Um Yea?” he whispered not knowing why his mom naming him Forest (or rather Deforest) was even relevant to the whole two people who looked exactly the same in one place thing. But apparently it was, and he was in too much pain to really question it.

Crouching there in awkward silence, the double regarded him again, the silence of the bar almost deafening. All eyes still on Forest. “Even in an alternate dimension she’s still a dick isn’t she?” The double commented, unfazed by the attention.

Narrowing his eyes at his double, Forest just stared openly at him. As if to say like. Wow, we’re going there are we? without the words part. But just like he was unfazed by the attention he was getting by the patrons of the bar the doppelgänger was unfazed by that too, a grin just spreading across his face and he stood up again.

“Harley, I think I’m going to need some space to talk to my new friend Forest here.” He stated quiet loudly, clapping the first man on the shoulder as he eyed the rest of the crowd. And it was like he’d flipped a switch back on, the men sitting at the bar going back to their conversations, everyone just resuming business as usual. You know as if Forest just wasn’t there hunched over practically dying on the floor of a busy bar.

And it would be an understatement it Forest didn’t mention just how much he was in awe of this person. Just literally in awe of his confidence, and the way he held himself against people who were definitely his senior in every way.

Watching him though Forest noticed the double turn his body more toward the other man though voice quieter than it had been the first time. “If Ward comes in tell him he needs to come back later because I’m busy and I don’t need him swooping in pretending hes got any rights to tell me what to do.”

The man named Harley glanced toward Forest and then back to the double “You really want me to say that to him?” He questioned his tone of voice expressing that that was probably not a very good idea at all.

“Precisely those words please and thank you” The double retorted with a smirk. He was obviously fully aware of how much shit this Ward was going to give him but literally didn’t care. Good Lord, this version of him was so awesome.

Sitting there, as the pain shot up his arms Forest rest his head and back against the wood of the bar wondering what was going to happen next. No one looked like they were going to hurt him, especially since he looked like this dude but yea, he knew better than that.

What he didn’t expect however was for his double to turn back toward him and gracefully slid himself down right next to him, not a drop of beer spilled in the process. “Woods” He nodded towards Forest once he was comfortably seated (though how could one really be comfortably seated on a sticky bar floor Forest had no idea) his idle hands lifting his neglected beer to his lips.

“Forest” Forest replied, still finding this situation incredibly weird. Especially when you put the whole Woods and Forest thing together. He wondered if like himself, that was his real name or just the name he liked to go by.

Sitting there for a moment however Forest just winced slightly, at the pain, and just the awkwardness of this whole situation. But like with everything Woods didn’t seem to mind. In fact all the boy did was fiddle with the laces of his prefect boots (because of course he just had perfect boots to go with the flawless everything else) before tucking them into his body and bringing himself to a crossed legged position. And it was weird how Forest had heard he wanted to “talk” to him or something, but Woods had yet to really even speak to him.

Looking out at the legs of the crowd around the bar Forest mulled it over. Maybe he was afraid, maybe he wasn’t as talkative as he seemed or maybe and this one seemed the most plausible. Maybe he was just here to protect Forest from the rest of them.

Yea that seemed like a them thing to do.

Trying to sit up a little straighter Forest bit his lip “Is Ward your brother?” He asked wondering if things like that were still the same between them.

“Yup.” Woods nodded “And I’d ask you how you knew that but you’re essentially me so I figure you’ve got one back in Asshat Creed”

“Ashkent Creek” Forest corrected with a small grimace, to which Woods just gave a slight eye roll as he drank from his glass again.

The sat in silence for a few seconds, the sounds of the bar around them filtering through the atmosphere. “Mine’s name is Hunter.” Forest continued even though he had no Idea why he was continuing. I mean did he really want to know more about this person? Maybe. Possibly. Ok who was he kidding. He wanted to know everything.

“Woods, Ward. Forest, Hunter.” Woods started wistfully a certain sheen of otherness glazing over his eyes “That naming thing just gets better doesn’t it. God. What an Asshole.” He snorted out leaning his head back against the bar to match forest.

Wrinkling his eyebrows Forest looked over towards his double a slight anger washing over him “She’s not an asshole” He retorted not really knowing why she was defending his mother, or rather their mother, but just knowing he had to.

“You mean yours didn’t brainwash you to become a warden against your will so that you don’t question her when she kills people like you?” He was staring straight at Forest now, with those same blue green eyes, the ones that obviously saw the same mental anguish he had.

But all Forest could do was suck in a breath, his lungs feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of them. Because no one had ever put his situation into words like that. No one had ever dared give voice to that specific and succinct pain he buried away time and time again.  So sitting there in Silence forest just looked away, unable to voice any type of defense to that. Woods though seem to catch on what he had done, his eyes lowering against Forest, hands fiddling with a large leather bracelet adorning his wrist.

“Sorry. Mines just worse probably.”  He said gently, that smooth confidence he once possessed faltering slightly under the weight of their conjoined pain.

“Probably” Forest whispered not wanting to admit that Woods might be right in this regard. That the lies he had been telling himself to make it all ok were just that, lies.

Trying to figure out how to change the subject Forest felt the burning sensation reach its peak again, his teeth biting at his lip to keep from crying out. “Why does it-” Forest murmured before giving in and just laying his head back on the wood of the bar, the wave of pain taking his ability to rationalize his thoughts.

Woods glanced over at him with a frown “You must not have the treaty on that side.”

“Treaty?” Forest raised a questioning eyebrow to his double.

“You probably wouldn’t understand so It’s not important” Woods replied still fiddling with the leather bracelet on his wrist, eyes distant. There was something unsaid here, something Forest really wanted him to say, but they fell back into their silence.

“How long do you think-?” Forest questioned before realizing that was probably a loaded question. A loaded question that apparently Woods actually had the answer too.

“Well from what I’ve heard, some stay for 30 seconds some others a full 5 minutes. It just depends” Woods shrugged again looking out at the people.

Glancing over at him Forest just stared “So I have to endure this for a full 5 minutes” He asked incredulously, face and body pretty much done with this already.

Smiling Woods bumped Forest’s shoulder lightly with his own. “Well If you’re anything like me you’ll survive just fine”

Giving him a look, Forest just focused on his breathing, the pain ebbing slightly. Glancing around the bar though everything just felt too normal right now. Like no one even batted an eyelash at him being here, let alone the fact he looked exactly like a local here. “Question so Is it just me, or am I the only one kinda freaking out about this right now”

Chuckling - the familiar timber of his laughter making this all too real for Forest -Woods took a swig of his beer. “What you guys don’t have the concept of Toxic Masculinity on your side?”  

Now it was Forests turn to roll his eyes.

“But nah this is a Slayer Hunter Warden bar, so they’ve seen, things.” Woods gave a look as he emphasized the things part of his sentence “Not to mention this isn’t the first time one of you guys has popped out over here.”

“Really?” Forest raised an eyebrow.

“Really” Woods breathed out into his beer again.

Leaning his head against the back of the bar some more Forest let the silence wash over them, gaze fixed upon this strange but familiar person time and time again. And it just, it was so weird how He felt in every fiber of his being that this person knew him, but didn’t know him at the same time. “How are you-?” Forest started before he stopped realizing that that was a question no one had the answer to.

But Woods apparently didn’t get what he was putting down again, blue green eyes narrowed back at him “How am I what?”

“Like you’re me but you’re-” Forest’s eyes did a quick scan up and down Wood’s body the differences practically overwhelming.

Looking down Woods regarded his shoe probably wondering why the hell his double was such a pathetic person. Or at least if Forest were him that’s probably what he would be thinking. “I don’t know. Something in our lives must be different I suppose” He answered softly eyes glazed over again.

Registering that this subject was probably done, Forest started on a different subject, trying to keep his double talking instead of retreating back into his shell. “Do you think this is going to happen again?”

“Can’t really say”

Nodding Forest just went with it, grimacing slightly as a new bout of pain raced down his arm. God this was horrible. How did people do this over here? Like was this a normal thing? But luckily Forest didn’t get answers just relief.

“Here. Give me your arm” Woods started pulling at Forest’s own arm away from his body with nimble fingers. And Forest tried to protest he really did, but that was before Woods had pressed his cold sweaty beer to Forest’s wrist relief almost instantaneous.

Taking a breath Forest just looked at what was essentially himself holding a beer his own arm, not really knowing what to do or say “Wow. Um thank you”

“No need.” Woods replied curtly “I mean I-I know how it feels so” He shrugged a little the perfect sort of mask Woods obviously put in place cracking slightly under the pressure. And It all made sense now. It all made sense with the bracelet thing, and the confidence thing, the whole pretending you are fine when you are clearly not thing. I know how that feels too, Forest thought to himself, before he looked away.

“So when do you think this is going to be over?” Forest asked, though tt was less of a question and more of a topic to get them off this awkward wavelength.

But the awkward just kept coming as Woods answered with a small “No clue”

Pausing Forest tapped the finger of his free hand against his thigh suddenly feeling really shy  “Well I guess um before it takes me back I just wanted to say It was nice meeting you Woods” He said looking over at his double. And in an instant his shyness dissipated as Woods took a hand and ruffled his hair, as if they were old friends just chilling on the floor, and not two weird interdimensional twins beings meeting for the first time.

“Awww It was nice meeting you too Forest.” He responded before putting his hand down  “And don’t let the pain fool you you’re welcome here on the Ashford River side any time”

Forest grimaced “Yea lets not”

“Oh come on we’ve got lots of things besides treaties that burn people’s flesh to offer here. I mean there’s probably better beer here and I don’t know something else like that” He shrugged for the thousandth time taking a quick swig from his glass before placing it back against Forest’s arm as smile on his lips.

Forest couldn’t help but chuckle at that, his laughter intertwining with Woods.

And just like that he was gone, the bar melting back into the stark white of his bedroom. Sitting there slumped over next to his closet forest could feel his breath start to hitch in his chest. The pain was still there fresh in his mind, but he knew the water in his eyes wasn’t really from that.

Sighing a little at just the rush of emotions Forest wiped at his face before he pulled out his phone from his back pocket wondering if he should go to the hospital or something. He probably should. 

But then again, one crisis at a time now. 

[thelonewriter1998-blog]

Our Story Chapter 3

Star couldn't take the sound of Mrs. Pidgin’s voice anymore.  

“Princess Star we've been over this a thousand times!”

Star was the only one capable of making the usually so well composed woman fly off the handle like that. Her mother would be upset to hear of yet another lesson she hadn’t taken seriously but she couldn’t help it. It was just so boring. She could care less which spoon was the soup spoon and whether the salad fork was supposed to go on the left or right side.She was literally being driven insane.She needed to get away from Mrs.Pidgin’s endless droning as soon as possible.

“Princess Star Capella where do you think you're going?!” Mrs. Pidgin called after her as she ran.

Star ran all the way outside to the garden. It was a place where she could get a breath of fresh air when the princess stuff became too much for her. It was a place where she could escape. She could walk around admiring all the flowers and the scent of the always freshly cut grass and not have to think about anything. This was also the place where most of her daydreaming was done. Most of these daydreams involved her not being the princess anymore.

It wasn't that she didn't care about Carina. Carina was her home and she loved it and all the people who lived within it with all her heart. It was just that she couldn't help this constant feeling that she was stuck. She had a rigorous schedule of lessons, fittings, tea parties, and meetings. Occasionally something exciting like a ball or a knighting would occur but she was forced to spend those sitting around on her throne looking pretty or dancing with a bunch of obnoxious princes. She wanted adventure. She wanted it more than anything. Sometimes she snuck out of her room late at night to spar with Sebastian. He'd been secretly teaching her anything he learned in his knighthood lessons since they were 8 and she came begging him to teach her how to hold a sword. That was back when he’d only been allowed swords made of wood. She dreamt of running away to fight monsters and evil wizards like the Royal Guard did.  But deep down she knew she couldn't do that to her people.

“Star, I figured I’d find you out here,” Mr. Ramsden said.

She really needed to find a new hideout. Mr. Ramsden looked at her expectantly until she rose off the bench with a sigh. He made a gesture to follow him but didn’t say anything. Star reluctantly followed knowing she was going to get a lecture on the way there.

“You know you really mustn't run off like that.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. You're not gonna tell my mom are you?”

“We can discuss this later. You're going to be late for your fitting.”

Star groaned and continued following him. After walking down the seemingly endless hallway they finally arrived at their destination. It was a little room with large mirrors covering every wall. The kingdom's best seamstress Joan was waiting with an armful of dresses.

“Surprise,surprise you’re late again. Step up here and stand still,” Joan said already a little exasperated by Star’s constant fidgeting.

Star stepped up on the podium in the middle of the room. She always felt a little weird being able to see herself from every angle like that. It forced her to really look at herself. At the moment her bright green hair, that her mother only let her dye to prevent her from doing something more permanent like getting a piercing or tattoo, was messily flopping all over her face. She was wearing baggy jeans that had a hole worn in the knee and a  black tank top that was a couple sizes too big on her. Her mother often commented that she looked more like a street vagrant than a princess.

“My goodness you’ve always been such a restless little girl. They don’t get pay me enough for your shenanigans. Stop twisting around like that before I accidentally poke you,” Joan scolded in a mostly playful manner as she helping Star into the first dress she had to try on.

Star obeyed and gave a small apology. Joan finished zipping up the dress. Star looked at her reflection frowning. The dress was everything she hated about these types of events. It was a short sleeved golden bell shaped gown with half sleeves. The bottom was heavy and almost as wide as she the platform she was standing her making it hard to move around. The top was so tight she almost couldn’t breathe which the corsets her mother made her wear to events like this would surely magnify. Joan sighed seeing Star’s disatisfaction and helped her out of the dress. The next option was a pink, her least favorite color, gown with long sleeves that went all the way up to end of her wrists and was even wider, heavier, and tighter than the last. Star reached back unzipping it herself. Joan helped her into the next dress and after repeating this process a few more times Star was tired of trying on dresses. Luckily it looked like there weren’t anymore to try on.

“I have one more left. This one I think you’ll really like,” Joan said sounding hopeful with a hint of excitement.

Star doubted it but waited for Joan to show her anyways. Joan walked across the room pulling the garment out of her bag. It was made of shiny silver fabric but in more of a Medieval Era style instead of the Victorian-esque dresses Joan usually brought her. To her surprise Star actually liked the dress  The shiny silver fabric made it almost look like armor and the way the dress was made granted her the freedom of movement she wanted. The belt around the torso also looked wide enough to carry a sword and that was always a plus.

“What do you think of it?”

“I don't hate it.”

Joan gave her a look.

“It's beautiful.”

“I told you you'd like it. Let's get it on you. It looks a little long so I'm probably going to have to hem it.”

Joan finished hemming the dress and admired her handiwork. Both Star and Joan were relieved that this wouldn't be yet another event that ended in Star's mother having to just step in and pick a dress for her. As of she were summoned merely by Star thinking of her she appeared in the doorway.

“You look very nice Star. Is that a smile I see? I haven’t seen you smile while wearing a dress in years. Perhaps there is hope for you after all.”

Star was relieved that she hadn't come to lecture her for leaving her manners lesson. Mr. Ramsden must've let this one go considering she was only a couple minutes late to her fitting. Hopefully Ms. Pidgin would keep her mouth shut for once as well.

“Thanks,” Star said deciding to take her mother's compliment that she looked nice and not start any fights today.

Star's mother was pleased that Star hadn't tried to start any arguments. She couldn’t get too lost in the nice moment though. Her schedule was even worse than Star’s.

“I came to let you know that tea with Lady Equebee is cancelled. I told her you had the flu. Take the afternoon off and go do something so infuriatingly Star, the kinds of things I normally don't approve of. I don’t want to know what it is and I don't want to hear about it later. I'm giving you a free pass to get some of those behaviors out of your system before the knighting ceremony in two days. Don't squander it,” Star's mother said finally remembering the reason she’d come to this room in the first place and started walking out into the next thing on her agenda.

“You really did that for me? Thanks mom.” Star pulled her mother into a hug.

Her mother awkwardly returned it as she had a disdain for public displays of affection. “It's more so you don't embarrass me or the rest of your Kingdom,” Her mother said trying to play it off like it wasn't a big deal. Star knew better though and let her mother go with a small smile.

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Lake felt the car come to a stop. She was glad that the 17 hour ride from LA to Brentwood was over. They had left at one o’clock in the morning so Lake had spent most of the trip sleeping. She fell asleep within minutes of getting on the road and not waking up again about 1 in the afternoon. The other five hours of the trip were spent talking to her dad and writing whenever the conversation stopped long enough for her to focus. There was a dull ache in her legs that screamed at her for sitting for too long. She got out of the car really needing to stretch her legs. Her dad wasn’t too far behind her. He looked exhausted. Lake hadn’t thought it was a good idea for her dad to drive 17 hours straight but he insisted he’d be fine.

“What do you think?” , Her father asked interrupting her thoughts.

It took a Lake a moment to realize he was talking about the house. She finally looked up at it. It was a white older looking but still beautiful house. It looked a little big for just her and her dad but she tried to keep her thoughts positive for her dad’s sake.

“It looks nice,” She admitted.

The relator must’ve been running late because she had promised to meet them there at six to show them the house. After about ten minutes she arrived profusely apologizing for being late. They assured her it was alright and followed her inside. They started with the living room. It was a decent sized room with white walls and soft beige carpeting. The kitchen was fairly simple as well. Lake liked the fact that it had an island because her mother had always wanted one but mourned the loss of a dishwasher.  They quickly passed by the dining room as they were led to the staircase. There was a door that Lake thought probably led to a closet. Stacy their realtor opened the door to reveal a set of stairs. The stairs  led to the basement. It was dark down there and she could hear weird noises.  They were  probably just coming from the  water heater or something but her nerves were already running high at the thought having her life uprooted so she decided to let her father take a look at it without her. After a few minutes he returned and Stacy took them upstairs. The first door they arrived at led to the laundry room just down the hall from that was the master bedroom. Lake caught her dad looking sadly at the double sinks in the master bathroom and asked if they could go look at her room. Down the hall was the bathroom and all the way at the end of the hall was her room. It was had the same white walls and beige carpet as the living room. The plainness of it made her miss her old room that her mother had helped her decorate. Her father seemed to catch on what she was thinking.

“I know it's a little boring looking now.But think of it as a blank canvas. This room can be anything you want.”

Lake just nodded in agreement still trying really hard to be okay with moving. Her father could see that she still wasn't one-hundred percent  convinced.

“There's one more room we need to see before you decide,” he said walking down the hall and pulling a ladder from the ceiling.

Lake followed him up the ladder and into the attic. It had a fairly low ceiling but it wasn't uncomfortable for Lake to stand up in.It appeared to be the biggest room in the whole house.

“I had an idea for this room I wanted your opinion on. I was thinking this could be a really great space for you. We could put some bookshelves and make it like your own personal library. We could put a desk in here and make you a little writing nook too. I know your new room would be smaller so I want to make you a Lake space. Thoughts?”

“I-I love that idea. Thanks dad.”

Lake could see just how much thought her dad had put into this. He was ready for them to start a new life together. She realized then  that she wasn't losing her home, merely the house she grew up in. She was going to miss the room her mother and her had decorated together, but it would always be in her memories just like her mother. Her father and her could make what he had called her ‘Lake Space’ together as well as new memories. As much as she didn’t like all this change she knew  they’d be just fine.

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Star got out of that dress as quickly as possible grabbing her goggles and sliding her laser sword into its sheath. Sword holstered to her hip, she was ready for adventure. But first she needed to find Xander.

Traditionally princesses had ladies in waiting but Star never seemed to do things the traditional way. Star’s best friend since she was little had been Xander and she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather have by her side. They had jokingly dubbed him her ‘dude in waiting’, which like most things Star did her mother didn’t really approve of but somehow that title had stuck. After wandering around she finally spotted a head full of medium length dark blue hair covered by a slouchy black beanie.

“Xander!”

“Star! What’s up? I thought you had some lame tea party or something to go to?”

“Nah mom got me out of it. She gave me a free pass to go ‘do something so infuriatingly Star’. We’re going on an adventure.”

“Oh goodness. Do I even wanna know what you have in mind?”

“Grab your dagger and I’ll tell you on the way.”

“You just love getting into trouble don’t you?” Xander sighed.

“You can stay here if you want.”

“No way,somebody’s gotta make sure your stupid ass doesn’t get killed.”

Xander stuffed his dagger into his boot wondering what crazy thing Star wanted him to go along with this time.

“Can you please tell me where we're going now?” Xander asked after they'd been walking for what seemed like forever.

“We're going to Veil Forest. I've heard there's a unicorn who's already killed some ladies from Armadon.”

“Let me get this straight. You want to capture a murderous unicorn?”

“Yes? The Royal Guard will never be able to catch it because unicorns only respond to females.”

“Yeah females who are ‘pure’. What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

“The unicorns define a maiden as being pure of heart if she has never purposefully caused physical or emotional harm to another human being.”

Xander was relieved that Star had done her research. Maybe they weren't going to die after all. The two arrived in Vail Forest and Star signaled for Xander to be quiet. They crept around searching. Star saw a flash of black running behind some trees and whispered for Xander to stay where he was and listen for her call if something went wrong. Xander hoped that nothing would go wrong but with Star that always seemed to be the inevitable outcome.

Star walked through the trees approaching the center of the forest. She could hear bushes not too far off rustling. She stood still so she wouldn't spook it when it reached her. It was black with a somehow even darker horn and yellow eyes. Star couldn't help but think that it even looked evil. She didn't allow herself to he afraid though. She held her hand it and it came right up to her. She pet its head and it leaned into the touch just like the horses she used to pet in the royal stable when she was younger. It was funny to her that when you really thought about it a unicorn was just a fancy horse. She was able to put a bridle on it. Her plan was to lead it away into Grim Forest. The weapons had only been brought as a last resort.

Grim Forest surrounded the Shadow Lands. It was less like a forest and more like a field of wildly overgrown grass with a few dead trees and more thorn bushes than Star could count. It separated the Shadow Lands from Carina and the rest of Far Far Away. Grim Forest was like a dumping ground for magical creatures. Star felt kind of bad about sending the creature to such a harsh place but magic had no place in Armadon, Carina or any of the other kingdoms and cities on the planet for that matter. She had to think of what was best for the citizens it was her duty to protect.

She began leading the unicorn away with an apple she’d snuck from the kitchen on her way out of the castle. Xander was shocked that nothing had gone wrong yet. He thought that Star might’ve actually pulled off one of her harebrained ideas for once. There was screaming and loud thud accompanied by the rustling from behind the bushes right next to them and a stream of curses. The sudden noises spooked the unicorn and it began to charge at Star. She drew her sword and lopped off the tip of its horn. Now she had really gone and made it mad. She apparently hadn't researched the foul beast well enough because she did not know they had the ability to heal themselves at an alarmingly fast rate. It grew back the sharpest point of its horn in mere seconds and began to charge at her again with even more force than the the first time. It even kept going as Xander’s dagger landed deep in its flesh after he threw it hoping to at the very least slow the thing down. She raised her sword again hoping for the best. Her mother would absolutely kill her if she died out here. Before the unicorn reached her a silver haired girl who looked to be about her age jumped out of the bushes and blasted it with a white hot laser beam slicing it in half. Gold sparkly liquid began pouring from its corpse.Star was only momentarily fascinated by this sight though. Her attention was quickly turned to the mystery girl with the silver hair.

“You didn’t have to do that! I know how to defend myself!”

“Yeah that totally looked like you had it under control princess,” The girl with the silver hair said her voice dripping with sarcasm and spitting out the word princess as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.

“She has a point Star. I thought we were gonna die,” Xander chimed in.

“You always think we’re gonna die. But I suppose I did cut it pretty close this time. Thank you...uh...”

“Absinth.”

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The car stopped again and they were back in LA. It was early. Lake glanced at the clock it was only 5 am. Lake quickly sent Taryn her newest piece of the story and ran inside. She expected to feel more comfortable now, like she was home. But it didn’t feel like that at all. It felt like she was intruding even though they hadn’t even put the house up for sale yet. It was weird how suddenly it didn’t feel like home anymore.

Her dad followed her inside looking even worse than before.

“You should really get some rest now.”

“I will. It's just that I was gonna call Mr. Lamden  and accept the promotion. He only gave me until the end of today and if I call bright and early I can show how much I want it. Otherwise he'll just give it to someone else probably that bastard Derek. Then I need to make breakfast and I know Mr. Lamden will want me in Washington right away so we should probably do some packing. Just some small stuff we don’t use everyday. If we don’t start now-”

“Woah. dad I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself there.  How about I make breakfast while you call the office. Then you can take a nap and I’ll help you start packing later. Okay?”

“Alright. Sometimes I feel like you take care of me more than I take care of you.”

Lake gave a small chuckle in response and disappeared into the kitchen. Her dad may not have been able  to cook but Lake was a decent chef. Her mother taught her everything she knew. She decided to make her father's favorite, french toast.  

Six pieces of french toast and a kitchen that looked like a tornado had gone through it later her father walked into the kitchen. The look on his face reminded Lake why she usually wasn't allowed to cook. She was a very messy chef.  She gave him a look that said sorry and promised to clean up later. Not wanting to be under his scrutinizing gaze any longer she took their plates of french toast to the table. After breakfast she made sure her father went to go lay down and then took the plates and cleaned up her mess before heading to her own room.

She wondered if Taryn had read her addition to the story. Normally they talked about big plot points like their characters meeting for the first time but Taryn had set it up so well and she wanted to surprise her. They loved surprising each other as much as they loved surprising their readers. She was nervous about what Taryn would think of it. She was still worried she hadn’t written Absinth well. She didn’t want Taryn be upset that she messed up her character. She felt like she shouldn’t have taken the chance but her writing was the only place in her life Lake took chances. It was the only place she felt like she could. She just really hoped Taryn would like it. She knew just looking if Taryn had read it yet would ease her worrying but she was also tried from their trip. She was too exhausted to do anything really so she just flopped on her bed and let sleep take over. For once she had decided to leave the worrying for later.

[cutsiecuters]

We meet again - Maknae Line {F}

Wordcount: 2770

Summary: You had been their childhood friend that moved away to America because your family thought you would be happier there. You were a mixed child a reason why you weren’t like in school while young, you didn’t look like them, so you didn’t belong to with them. The only friends you had made were Jungkook, Taehyung & Jimin. Though you weren’t friends in school because you didn’t want to embarrass them in front of the others, you were as close as can be at home. It was also a big surprise for you since you only heard you were moving the day of the moving. You ran away with tears in your eyes, going to Taehyung’s place since they were holding a slumber party. You cried your eyes out trying to tell the that you were leaving the country. You held onto them for dear life as your mom tried to get you to come with them. In the end, your dad ripped you away from them and placed you in the car locking the doors. And now? You're back...

10 years. 10 years later you were finally back home, in Korea. You had bought your own Apartment in Seoul and left without telling your parents face-to-face. All you did was leave a note, saying; Hey mom, hey dad, I love you very much but, I have graduated from college and I am 21 now so I can do whatever I please. I am moving away and I think you can guess where to. That was my home and you took me away from it, so now I am going back. Lots of love, Y/N You left it just before you left for the airport at the dining table. Now, you stood outside of your new studio apartment. You had saved up all you could to get a one-way ticket to Seoul and an apartment. It was a cheap apartment but you know that if you tried hard enough to find a job in what you studied for, which was Photography and Media Designing than you could either make this place your own or move to an even better apartment.

With that in mind, you started your new life in Seoul. It didn't take you long to find a job, you started working as a photographer in a company who made merchandise for Idols who then sold it at their concerts. Most of the time you worked with the same Idols, that being GOT7, so it was pretty relaxed to work with them as you photographed them. You could say you became friends, mostly with BamBam and Jackson though. Jackson would always creep in front of the camera and smirk at you which got you to giggle while scolding him and getting him to move so you could continue your job. "Y/N-ah!" You heard from behind you as you walked into your studio. You're saying your studio since it was actually given to you by your boss. You could do with it what you wanted and that's what you did. You made it look homey so the Idols would feel more at ease with you. "Jackson-ah!" you said smiling as you saw him there, sitting on the couch. "What are you doing here, don't you have work to do?" you ask in a teasing way as you set up my stuff. You go over to your little station at start up your laptop. "Not really, and I became bored so I thought, why not irritate, dear Y/N," Jackson said coming over and sitting next to you. "Whatcha doing?" "Nothing yet, today I should be another day of photoshopping your photo's but I'm already done with that so today I am actually free to do whatever I want," you tell him while you open up your drive to look at old pictures from when you lived here 10 years ago. "Who are they?" Jackson asked as you looked at a picture you took of the three of them when they had built a fort in Jimin's living room for a movie night. "Oh, uhm," you leaned back in my chair to look at him, your eyes lightly hurting from wanting to cry. "Those are my childhood friends from Busan before I moved to America 10 years ago. I haven't seen them since I came back 8 months ago, I think they've forgotten about me anyway, but it's okay," you explain to him and try to wipe your tears away, not that any left your eyes yet. "It's obviously not okay," Jackson said and pulled you into a hug. "And how could they forget about you? I try so hard to forget you, but I just can't," you couldn't help but giggle at that. You pull away from him and show him a smile. "Thanks, Jackson," you said softly. Jackson smiled at you and looked through the photo's before he stopped at one and looked closer. "Wait a second," he mumbled while doing so. "What are their names?" "Oh, uh, that's Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook," you said pointing at each of them. "Why do you ask?" "You are an idiot." "I am? How so?" you ask even more confused as he grabs his phone from his pocket going to his WhatsApp. "Do you know BTS?" "Not really, I only listen to their music when it's on the radio, I don't know much about them, why?" you asked getting more confused by the minute. "You really should have looked them up," Jackson said seriously as he frantically typed on his phone. "Why? Jackson, you are really confusing me at the moment," you said watching him with the very little patience you had. "Give me a second," he mumbled. "Look at this," he then said giving you his phone.

You click on the picture and look at it for a while before your eyes widen. "That's- and- I-" you start stuttering not really knowing what to do. Those were your Kookie, TaeTae, and Jiminie. "Yes," Jackson said before he took his phone from you again and sent another message.

"I hope you don't have anything to do this Saturday," Jackson then said. "No, not that I can think of, why?" you ask calmly. "I'm taking you to them," he answered. Your mind went blank for a second. 'I am going to see them again!? But how, does Jackson know them personally? Will they remember me? Probably not, this is not a good idea, I can't go to them, I'm just a photographer now. If they are Idols then there is no way I am good enough to meet them. They will be so disgusted by me,' you thought to yourself, slightly panicking "Y/N?" Jackson waved his hand in front of your face. "I can't go, Jackson, they won't remember me, they'll be disgusted to know that I am just a photographer, they'll see me as a regular fan who is invading their privacy," you ramble to him while looking directly into his eyes. "Y/N, they do remember you, I promise, and you are an amazing Photographer, if they are disgusted by that then I'll be sure to hit them hard and we will make them jealous by sending pictures of you, me and BamBam doing fun things, okay?" you nod showing a small smile. "Now come on, let's go get some tea and a snack to cheer you up." "Okay," you smiled, you close your laptop and walk with him out of your studio, locking the door behind yourself. Jackson and you went to the cafe across the street and just sat there talking about random things. Trying to get your nervousness to go away. Soon enough Saturday came around and you were up at 7 in the morning, not having been able to sleep all that well that night. You had showered making sure you were as clean as can be. You fixed your hair, put on a little makeup, not too much, just winged eyeliner, mascara, blusher, which you added to the tip of your nose too to make you look extra cute, and popping pink lipstick. 

When you said not too much you meant layers, not conservative *wink*. When it came to makeup you didn't wear much but when you wore it, you made sure to wear a bright color lipstick. You didn't care about the stares, the lipstick is what you liked and you could care less about what others thought of it. When it comes to your outfit you wore black skinny jeans with a baggy gray t-shirt and high black converse. Jackson would pick you up a 12 which was now a few minutes away, you hadn't known what to do with yourself all day, so all you did that day was sit on your couch doing nothing but sip on your tea for 3 hours, which was cold but because of your nervousness you still sipped it every once and a while. Soon enough the bell rang and you heard Jackson's voice. "Y/N-ah! Are you ready!?" you jumped up, setting the cup on the table and ran to the door to open it. "Yes and no!" you said to him loudly. "I am excited but super scared!" "It's going to be okay, I promise!" Jackson said taking your hand and leaving your apartment going to his car. "So where are we meeting them?" you ask after you buckled yourself up and Jackson started driving. "We are meeting them at our dorm, BamBam is there too, so don't worry too much okay? BamBam and I will be with you at all times." "Okay, thank you," you smile at him, really grateful. "Oh and because I know you would get scared to get in when they were already inside I made sure that they come at 1 so you have a whole hour to get ready for them." "Oh my god, thank you, Jackson! You know me so well," you grin wider. 🕐🕑🕒🕓🕔🕕🕖🕗🕘🕙🕚🕛 "BamBam! Where are you, I want my hug for nervousness!" you yelled as soon as you walked into the dorm, smiling widely. "Y/N-ah!" you heard BamBam yell back from somewhere before hearing his footsteps. Once you saw him you couldn't help yourself but jump into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands holding your thighs, as you wrapped your legs around his middle. "I heard about your childhood friends from Jackson, you know you don't need to be nervous, right?" "How can I not be nervous," you tell him, pulling away, only slightly so you can look at him. "I haven't seen them in 10 years, and they are Idols now, so how can I not be nervous?" "But we are Idols too, and you weren't nervous meeting us right?" Jackson asks from behind you. "Not really but that's because you broke the ice trying to flirt with me," you answer giggling in the end. BamBam walked you over to the living room setting you down on the couch. "By the way, why don't I get the same greeting as BamBam?" Jackson asked sitting down beside you, crossing his arms. "Because I always feel impressed with him being able to carry my fat ass, while with you, it's obvious that you can, I mean look at your arms," you said to him. "Don't say that Y/N, you are not fat!" BamBam said from the kitchen as he got you drinks. "What are you talking about, I'm heavier than you!" you said back, still not getting how they thought you weren't fat. "Y/N, just accept the fact that you are the perfect cuddle buddy, and you look awesome with the curves you have," Jackson said, making you blush just slightly. "Jackson, stop saying such things to me," you say and hit him playfully. "He's not lying though!" BamBam said as he walked back into the living room setting down the drinks. "Bu-" you were cut off by the sound of the bell. "That must be them," Jackson got up. "No, I'm not ready!" you said to him, but Jackson walked away. "Okay, come on, we will go to my room to calm down," BamBam said taking your hand and bringing you to his room to sit down. <Third person with Jackson> "Hey, guys, come in," Jackson said to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung, opening the door further to let them in. "You were really confusing, Jackson, what is this about?" Jimin asked walking further into the dorm, to the living room. The three of them sat down, looking at Jackson waiting for an explanation. "Right, well, I know your childhood friend Y/N, and that's why I was so confusing Yesterday," I explain to them. "How do you know, Y/N? She moved to America 10 years ago?" Taehyung asked. "She came back and is actually here to meet you, but she's a little nervous, so BamBam is with her." "She's here!?" Jungkook asks in shock. "Yes...," Jackson answers slowly. "And she's missed you a lot, but she thinks you either forgot her or that you'll be disgusted that she's only a Photographer, so she thinks she isn't good enough to meet you guys again." "She's always been an idiot," Jimin says with a smile on his face. "Yeah, but I do understand her," Taehyung said, surprising them all. Since when was Taehyung serious!? "BamBam, you can't make me!" They heard from the hallway before a bum came into view. "You're going to be fine, Y/N!" "No I won't, now put me down!" You said slapping his bum. "BamBam!" BamBam laughed as he slowly put you down. "Thank you," you said taking a breath, before slowly turning around, only to jump behind BamBam when you saw their faces. "Y/N!" Jungkook said getting up, BamBam moved away, just in time as Jungkook tackled you into a hug. You were stiff for a few second before you couldn't help but smile a wide boxy smile and wrap your arms around him too. "Kookie," you whispered, still not really believing you got to see them again. "I missed you," you mumble, hiding my face in his neck. "I missed you too," he answered. "Since when is Kookie not scared of girls?" You heard Jackson whisper towards Jimin and Taehyung. This caused you to giggle and slowly let go of Jungkook. "It's different, hyung," Jungkook answered as he turned to him. "TaeTae?" you mumble softly, wanting a hug from your boxy smile twin. You heard a deep chuckle making you look back up to see Taehyung walk to you with that boxy smile. God his voice got deep. "Hey Y/Nick/N," he said before pulling you into a hug. You held the front of his shirt while he wrapped his arms around your arms. Hugging you just like old times. "I missed you," you mumbled into his chest. You feel him peck your head and tighten his hold. "I missed you too," he spoke softly, his voice even deeper. "They always looked so cute while hugging," you hear Jimin say to the others making you smile and slowly pull away from the hug, waiting for your hug with Jimin. "Hi Jiminie," I smile sweetly at him, my hands behind me back. "We meet again, Y/N-ah, just like I said," he says pulling you into his muscular arms. I smile and wrap my arms around his waist. "Yes, just like you said," you smile as he pecks your forehead. You couldn't get any happier than at this very moment. You had your best friends back and they recognized you, and they were glad to have you back. That being said, all you did that day was talk about what happened from the day I had to move to the day I got back. We looked at old pictures of us, and all in all, this was the best day of your life.