#im desperately trying to find a different image but in doing so i came across these

[panicbones]

i miss them, my women who suck (she/her for both)

[iambilliejeanok]

I just read the dick appt and LORRDDD THE WAY YOU WRITE ABT SHINO HAD ME BLUSHING!! I was wondering if you have any Gaara writings 😳 I tried lurking for some but I couldn't find any 😔

Parings: Gaara x reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, slight ddlg, slight dumbification, overstimulation and language.

Gaara Sexy by Irethiss on DeviantArt (image credit)

You had just finished all your important paper work, setting out the ingredients to the dinner you were about to prepare since your husband would come home a little late. Being a Kage really meant a ton of work for Gaara as well as yourself as his advisor. Tonight was your turn to cook you figured, turning off the water that filled up the big red pot to the top. Spilling some out you heard the door open, quickly placing it down to go and greet your husband. Speed walking to the door, you were trying not to run in excitement since you hadn’t seen in two long days. Without warning you jumped onto him, but he was prepared for it, his arms wide open to catch you in them and return your loving embrace. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent he loved so much with arms wrapped tight around you. “Gaara I missed you!”, you spoke, backing up a little to look at his beautiful face, glassy green eyes piercing your own. “I know sweet heart. I missed you too”, he said, your thumbs running along his warm cheeks as you cradled his sweet face in your hands. You leaned in for a kiss, your ass in his hands the only support you had, wrapping your legs tightly around him as he attempted to deepen the kiss. He grunted into it, causing you to back up in confusion. The minute you looked into his glossy eyes you knew why he grunted. He looked very frustrated, the furrow in his brows intensifying the atmosphere between the two of you, making you feel a little nervous and small. Your hand nervously fidgeting with his red cloak, you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes on his own. The sinister look in his eyes forcing you into complete sub space. He gently place you back down, his height now making your feel a little vulnerable. His large hand came up to rub his chin, slowly licking his lips before he spoke. “Will you be a good girl for me tonight?”, he asked, his index finger tracing a line down your breast, roughly flicking past your covered nipple before continuing further down to press against the magic button between your legs. You couldn’t shake away how quickly you were falling deeper into sub space, your pretty big brown eyes desperatley looking into his green ones for validation. “Yes daddy”, you breathed, his face never changing its serious and intense look. His other hand came up to gently palm your cheek, his thumb running across your juicy lips as he bit his own. “Good girl. Im going to take a quick shower. Will you be ready for me when I’m do ne baby?”. “Yes daddy”, you eagerly responded, happy to be his good little girl tonight.

Saliva ran down the insides of your cheeks at the thought of his hard member inside your mouth. You couldnt stop yourself from swallowing, thinking about twirling your tongue around the tip before softly sucking on it. Your favorite thing to do when you’re giving him head. He stood before you, nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his slender waist. You were seated on the bed, completely naked and ready for him like he taught you. The look on his face wasn’t as intense as it was earlier, a small smirk pulling at his lips while his long fingers pulled at the cotton material around his waist, revealing his hardened manhood. You couldn’t help but swallow, watching him wrap his hand around himself, slowly pumping. He was standing right in front of you, one hand caressing your face while the other worked on his thick shaft. His thumb ran along the tip, lubricating it with the precum that slowly oozed out. He bit his lip, your cheek in his palm and his thumb exploring your pretty mouth. Lightly sucking on his thumb, a small moan left your mouth, one that wouldn’t of been heard if he wasn’t paying close attention you. The small smirk on his lips didn’t hide itself from your desperate reaction. You were eagerly sucking on his thumb, as it teased your mouth, slipping out to run across your plump lips before plunging into your sweet mouth once again. Watching him play with himself was proving to be a little difficult right now, a low moan from him causing you to shift around a little to ease the intense throb you felt between your legs. He watched the way you sucked on his thumb, your hands resting on either side of you, lightly gripping the sheets with your eyes set on his delicious erection. His thumb left your lips to grip your face so you would look up at his face and not his dick. You couldn’t stop yourself, the throb between your legs now hurting you. “Daddy can I suck on it”, you pleaded, your shifting slightly irritating him but the desperation in your eyes turning him on so much more. “Whatever happened to your manners pretty?”, he questioned, his thumb forcing its way deep into your mouth, roughly pressing down on your tongue, making you whine. “Ask properly”, he demanded before pulling his thumb from your mouth. “Please may I suck on your dick daddy”, you pleaded, a little whimper between your words making you sound all the more needy for him. He absolutely loved it when you were all mushy for him like this. “No”, he simply said, your heart skipping a beat in utter disappointment. “But…daddy…please. Just for a little, I promise I’ll be g—”, your whining was cut off by him flipping you over so you were face down on the bed, the lower half of your body hanging off the bed whilst your face was buried in the sheets. “What’s the matter baby girl?”, he asked, teasingly running his hand up and down your thigh, noticing a little juice dripping down the inside of your thigh. “Baby, you’re really needy tonight aren’t you?”, he teased “Daddy!”, you whined, feeling very desperate to have him touch you already. His hand landed on your round ass, forcing a squeal of surprise out of you. “You know you’re supposed to use your words pretty”, he spoke, his face serious once again. “Please can you touch me. I really need you”, you whimpered, the feeling of want deep inside of you nearly burning you from the inside out. He felt really good inside, glad that you still wanted him just as much as he wanted you. His hand came up to cup your pussy, a grunt leaving his lips at the feel of how wet you were. He lifted you up on the bed with the hand cupping your pussy, lightly spanking it before flipping you over so you were cradled in his arms. His eyes never left yours as his middle finger gently slid between your folds, soaking it in your wetness before finding your clit to rub some light circles on it. He knew exactly where you needed the stimulation, keeping the pad of his finger right on your exposed clit. You bit your lip, fingers running your hand through his red hair while the other ran along his muscular chest.

Leaning in for a kiss he sunk his middle finger that stimulated your clit deep inside your pussy, before pulling back a little to start rubbing your g spot. A deep moan left your lips at the feel of his finger sinking into your heat, your eyes never leaving his as he slowly picked up the pace, going from steady and slow to rough and fast. His thumb pressed against your clit while he mercilessly fingered you, swallowing your high pitched moans in the passionate kiss he unleashed upon you. Before long you were unable to return the kiss, your moans turning into low screams as you were quickly nearing your peak. You were so hot for him that it didn’t take much effort on his part to make you cum, your juices running down is arm as you came all over his hand. “Fuck”, he grunted, admiring the way your gorgeous body convulsed right in his hold. “There you go baby. Does that feel good?”, he groaned, his face so close to yours as you gripped his hair and shoulder while you came. You felt so good as he continued fingering you, this time adding a second finger to torture your g spot, his thumb still pressing your clit in tight circles. “Daddy!”, your cried out, your eyes rolling to the back off your head as he continued stimulating you, doubling the intensity of the orgasm that quickly crept up on you, his fingers didn’t change pace once, maintaining their fast and rough motion on your womanhood. Unconsciously, you brought up a shaky hand to push against his as you came undone once again. The pleasure intense enough to pull your body into a fit of shivering, your throat now a little horse from moaning so much. “One more time”, he spoke loud and clear for you to hear him, nothing but a loud whine coming from your plump lips as he slipped two fingers inside of you again. You were usually good and saw everything he did to you through so he knew you’d take this third orgasm pretty well, this time laying down and spreading your legs open so he could taste you. “Mmm baby, you taste so good. Come on my face baby”, he spoke, a little muffled from trying to eat you out at the same time. He immediately went for your clit, sucking on it hard enough to cause you to scream, his fingers still plunging deep inside of you, stroking your g spot until you shook uncontrollably, juices squirting from your pussy and dripping down onto the bed as his mouth remained glued to your clitoris. The sensitive nub still be sucked on while juice dripped into the sheets. You couldn’t stop screaming, crying out his name and different curses as you tried your best to be good for him. It pleases him whenever you last through overstimulation without a fight. You wanted nothing more than to please him, so your body couldn’t stop shivering and jerking as he ate you out and finger fucked you through your third orgasm. He finally came up, pleased with how good you were for him. “You’re always so good for me baby. I love you”, he spoke, repositioning you so your legs were spread wide open for him. You were so far gone, still overwhelmed from your third orgasm to notice him burying his thick and hard member deep inside of you. You almost came again, the pleasure now unbearable as you felt him push against your cervix, immediately setting to a hard and steady pace, deeply penetrating you with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back the tears in your eyes, he just filled you up so good, forcing you to cry as he pounded into you. “You’re so sexy, trying to take daddy like this. Is it too much for you baby girl? Is daddy giving you a hard time?”, he teased in between decorating your smooth skin with nasty hickies. You were beyond your ability to control yourself at this point, wondering if you’d be able to last the night without passing out. You were just so cute, all dumb and completely submissive, letting him force orgasm after orgasm out of you. You really stole his heart. Everyday he spent with you made him feel like he was falling deeper into the abyss of pure love.

Tomorrow you two would cuddle the morning away, have breakfast and maybe go another few rounds since you both had the day off. He would do anything and everything for you. You were his sweet princess’s and would always be.

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

[slytherinwh0re]

Dreams

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warning: SMUT (18+ minors dni) and swearing

Summary: Where Draco has a sex dream about his best friend. (I’m such a sucker for friends to lovers).

Masterlist

A/N: I tried a different writing style so it might be a lil funky, idk, lmk.

(Y/n)’s small hand travelled lower, skimming over the happy trail that leads to his trousers. Her lips brushed his neck making goosebumps rise across his pale skin, every touch from her would send a shock of electricity through his veins. She was an addiction, and Draco had no desire to overcome it.

The sounds she made would play in his head forever, he was sure of it. Their hands were everywhere, needing to touch each other’s skin; their clothes long forgotten on the floor by his bed.

“Ready love?” Draco hovered over her, so close to connecting them in the way he always wanted.

“Wake up dumb ass.” Fucking Theo.

He groaned to himself, embarrassed that he’d had yet another explicit dream about his childhood friend. He wondered what she’d think if she ever found out, in his head every scenario ended in heart break.

***

Draco had successfully avoided her all week, every attempt she’d made to hangout he’d shut her down with some bullshit excuse but he should’ve known (y/n) would do something about it. That’s how the blonde found himself limb locked and being levitated to her dorm. He was pissed but so was she, and fuck did she look sexy.

“Why’re you acting so weird Draco?” She asked after lifting the spell. It’s true, he had been acting strange but how could he not? Every time he looked at his the witch he’d think back to the dreams he’d been having. A hard dick is the last thing he needs right now, especially in a room alone with her.

“I’m not acting weird.” He wasn’t surprised when she rolled her eyes, an unimpressed look on her pretty face.

“Yes you are, and you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” He hated himself for turning into such a sappy fucking git over her but that sad pout cuts straight through him. Immediately he’s pulling her into his chest, arms wrapping around her body.

“Of course you didn’t, I’ve just been having these dreams and I don’t know how to feel about them.” He was practically squirming but he knew he had to explain himself to the girl or she’d think it was her fault he was being so odd. Who would’ve thought Draco Malfoy would feel the need to explain himself to anyone, then again (y/n) wasn’t just anyone to him.

“Well why wouldn’t you just say that? I’ve been running around all week trying to hangout with you and you’ve barely spoken two words to me.” He doesn’t answer, instead he gives her an apologetic look that has her eyes rolling yet again. “Go on then, what’re the dreams you’re having about?”

The slytherin can’t look her in the eye, the thought of telling her makes him cringe but maybe talking about it will make them stop. “They’re actually about you.”

“About me? What about me?” She pauses, a shocked look adorning her face, “are they like-” she waved her finger between the both of them, signaling to what she thinks it is and he nods, knowing she’s already understood. “Oh- OH.”

“(Y/n), if this changes everything I completely understand but I need you to know I can’t help it, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you.” The witch was silent, she just stared at him and he was sure he’d lost her forever.

That’s why he was so stunned when she started making her way over to him, not stopping until their bodies were an inch away from each other’s. Her hands went around his neck and started playing with the hair there, Draco leaned into her, deciding that if this is what he could get he’d take it.

“Tell me what I did in your dreams Draco.” He about lost it when (y/n)’s lips brushed across his neck, her nimble finger still tugging at his hair.

“This. You’d do this.” She hummed against his skin, acknowledging that she’d heard him. Her hands moved down his chest and over his stomach until she reached the hem of his shirt. The girl looked up at him, silently telling him to take it off.

Draco immediately yanked it over his head, only to realize in that second she’d taken hers off as well, now her hand was reaching behind her back, undoing her bra. Every inch of her skin that’s revealed to him chipped away at his self control but he wanted to see how far she’d take this.

Her bra fell to the floor, her nipples were peaked and begging to be played with but before he could move, she was pressed against his chest. Skin on skin, and she’s kissing him.

The boy felt as if he were on fire, his hand pressed against her lower back, pushing her further into him, deepening the kiss. They moved in sync, their tongues tangled together and hands touching bare skin.

“Did we do that in your dreams?” She pulled away, her lips a bit swollen.

“Yes.” Her smile was contagious, he was sure she’d stop there and he was more than happy to but (y/n) was never one to do what was expected. Instead, she started unbuttoning his trousers and kissing her way down his chest until she was on her knees in front of him.

He was speechless, the sight of the topless girl on her knees for him was enough for Draco to die happy. She had her eyes fixed on him when she got his pants down, already rubbing him over his briefs. With one last smirk she was pulling them down.

“And this? Did I do this to you?” His dick was already leaking with precum when she wrapped her lips around him.

“Fuck yes.” Her hand moved in rythm with her mouth, flicking her wrist every time. The combination had him throwing his head back but he lowered it quickly, not wanting to miss a second of his dick in her mouth. Draco grabbed her hair, needing something to hold onto, the small moan she let out vibrated through him.

(Y/n) watched him through her eyelashes, the pleasure etched on his face had her rubbing her thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. The girl was usually bold but even this was a little far stretched, even for her. She knew that if she hadn’t taken this opportunity to see where things would lead she’d regret it and damn is she happy she did.

The control she had over him in this moment is empowering, to watch Draco Malfoy fall apart because of her is beyond erotic. She hollowed her cheeks, running her tongue up the base with every bob of her head.

She let him out her mouth with a pop, stood back up, and dropped her skirt and panties.

“Let me show you what I do to you in my dreams (y/n).” Draco’s voice was raspy, the desire he felt for her made his mind cloudy.

“Show me.” That’s all it took for them to find her bed, lips locked, and his fingers sliding in and out of her sopping cunt. Her walls clenched his fingers deliciously, his thumb rubbed at her clit in a way that made her chest arch into him. The blonde brings his fingers to his lips, needing to get a taste. One day he’d devour her but for tonight just a taste would do.

“Ready love?” He lines himself up at her entrance, the anticipation for this moment was well worth the wait. To see his girl naked underneath him is an image that’d be burned into his mind forever.

“I’ve always been ready for this.” She kissed at his neck, pulling away to watch as he sank himself into her. They both let out an airy moan, her hands were back in his hair, and his were roaming every inch of her body.

Draco hitched her legs onto his shoulders, his hips setting a fast pace, her moans filling the room. The witch gripped him like a vice, her nails ran down his chest, leaving scratches that would be left as a reminder of this night for the next few days.

Her tits bounced with every deep thrust, (y/n) could feel herself getting close but she wasn’t quite ready for it to be over. Instead she lowered her legs and flipped them over, the new position had her screaming his name.

“Oh, Draco!” She bounced on him faster, eyes never leaving his fascinated ones. He looked at her as is she was the most beautiful girl in the world and in his eyes she is.

Her body was on fire, every time the pretty girl sank down on his cock she felt herself get closer to the edge. The blonde felt her walls begin to flutter, his hands that were situated on her breasts moved so one was toying with her clit and the other was wrapped around her throat.

The combination of her riding him and his hands on her was too much for (y/n), with his encouragement she found herself clenching around him as they came together. Their names leaving each other’s lips as their hips jerked and their vision went white.

“That was better than any dream.” He told her as they caught their breath.

*

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[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 8

Hiiiii! I'm back from the dead and finally got back to writing again <3

Sorry it took ages—and sorry it's not a great chapter— but thank you so much everyone for the patience and support, it means so much!

Thank you @inloveoknutzy @donttouchmycarrots and @knittingdreams for beating, love y'all! <3

Tag list: @whataboutmyfries @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @ttylfedora @domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge @lovemeleo @im-lana

CW: Mentions of food

Ao3

Masterlist

Chapter 8 - The morning after

Remus woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He blinked a few times to get the tiredness out of his eyes—which seemed to want to stay glued shut—and stared at the ceiling for long moments.

His first thought was that, for a second, he thought he could hear Padfoot’s laugh. Vague images of a dream he’d had came flooding back to him; long corridors, empty beds and his gaming console. The sound must have been a remnant of that.

The second thought was that the ceiling of his room was weird. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where the bugging sensation came from, but something was off and he was way too tired to figure out what it was. Maybe he should just go back to sleep. Groaning, he turned around to do just that, and that’s when he got a good look at the rest of the room.

He sat up with a start, regretting it instantly when nausea hit him like a wave. Closing his eyes, he stayed still until the feeling ebbed away, then opened them again slowly.

This wasn’t his room. There was no sign of any of his stuff; instead, he saw a big mirror, a dark wood chest of drawers, and a trail of scattered things that either belonged to different people or to someone with diverse tastes: a blue hair tie, a black snapback, t-shirts that at a glance he could tell were of different sizes, with stamps that varied from Disney to Strand.

One by one, memories from the night before popped up as the fogginess from sleep left him completely. That’s right, Sirius had offered his home to him after he’d found Remus outside of his flat; he’d come in to take a shower and had sat on the couch as they watched a movie and drank. Things were a bit hazy from that point on.

Had he really pouted and asked Sirius to stay with him like a little kid? Fuck, please let that be a part of the drunk hallucinations. He turned around slowly, glancing to the other side of the bed with his heart beating fast in his throat, but the spot next to him was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Remus threw the blankets to the side and planted his feet on the floor to get some resemblance of stability, but frowned when he stepped on something. Looking down, he noticed a pillow and a blanket lying rumpled on the floor, next to his side of the bed.

A pang of guilt made its way to his chest when he realised Sirius must have slept on the floor while Remus was on the bed, covered from head to toe and warm. Sirius had been so careful with him. Every touch had been gentle, not invasive but rather trying not to overstep, trying to comfort. So, so very careful.

Remus felt slightly ashamed for thinking Sirius would take advantage of him. Not to mention for the way he'd bawled his eyes out in front of the man. He’d made a fool of himself yet again, something that kept happening a lot as of late and to which he wasn’t used to.

“Oh, God.” He remembered how he’d felt his mother’s hand brushing his hair before he fell asleep and he desperately hoped he hadn’t called out for her in his dream. Bringing a hand to his forehead, he could almost feel that phantom touch, tracing fingertips over his hairline.

He rubbed his face in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Sirius after all that, but there was no way he could fall asleep again and a quick glance at the clock on the opposite wall told him it was barely eight in the morning. It was still too early to call Leo or go back to the clinic, plus he didn’t know how everything had panned out.

Remus glanced at the bedside table where his phone was lying face down and stretched over to grab it. He flipped it from hand to hand, back and forth, the small thing weighing him down every time it fell on his palm with a soft thud.

He could call.

He should call.

But what if something had gone wrong? What if Cocoa had had a complication during the night? Would they have notified him already if that was the case? Did he want to find out like this, far away from him and helpless to do anything? He didn’t want to show any more weaknesses in front of Sirius, he’d already shown more of his vulnerable side than he’d ever intended to.

Nodding to himself, Remus got up and threw the phone on the bed. He took two steps towards the door. The doctor had told him to go in the afternoon; he could wait a couple of hours before going back to the clinic and then he would know and—

A huff escaped him as Remus hurried back and dialed the number, plopping down on the mattress.

“Thank you for calling Mercy Animal Clinic. This is Jennifer, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hi, my name is Remus? I brought my dog in last night for chocolate poisoning and I—I was just calling to check on him?”

“Of course, Sir. What is the patient's name?”

“Cocoa,” said Remus, gripping his phone a bit tighter. Jennifer hummed and asked for a few more details to confirm his identity, to which Remus replied on autopilot, his mind going blank in a subconscious attempt to protect himself.

“Just a second, please.”

Remus busied himself counting the floorboards while he waited, trying to calm his nerves, but it had the opposite effect as he became very aware of how long Jennifer was taking to find what he wanted to know. He’d started tapping his foot when the receptionist finally came back on the other end of the line.

“Yes, everything was ok during the night and Cocoa will be ready to go home after lunch,” they said cheerfully.

Remus’ breath stopped completely and then he exhaled loudly. He could have sworn he felt his heart unclench, invisible fingers letting go of their painful grip and allowing blood to stream freely again. His shoulders dropped, releasing all the pent up tension that had been building there since he’d stepped into his apartment the night before, and he laid down, covering his eyes with his free arm.

“Sir?” Jennifer said hesitantly.

“Yes. Ok. Ok. Thanks, I’ll be there.” He hung up and let the phone fall at his side.

The silence of the room was an echo of his own head as Remus tried to let the words sink in. He peeked at the ceiling from under his arm. Cocoa was fine. The phrase repeated itself a few times until Remus took a deep breath and swung himself up.

The hall was quiet outside of the room, but he could hear some noises coming from ahead. Remus bunched the sleeves of the jumper he was wearing, not too willing to admit how comfy and warm he was in Sirius’ clothes. Especially not when he was assaulted by memories of Sirius helping him walk through this same corridor the night before and Remus almost gave in to the embarrassment. Sirius probably thought he was pathetic.

Groaning, he steeled himself as he padded the rest of the way, but his step faltered before going into the kitchen, a hand rising to settle on the wall. Something smelled amazing in there. Like melted butter and Saturday mornings back home, with his mom humming as she stood by the stove and the sun streamed in through the open windows. The sound of the sizzling pan was accompanied by a rock song playing in the background, a cool guitar distortion filling the room, followed by a gravelly voice singing a capella.

And there was Sirius in the middle of it all, moving around the kitchen gracefully, head bopping and singing into a ladle. He slid across the floor like Tom Cruise in that old movie as he moved to the fridge and a chuckle bubbled out of Remus’ chest, taking with it most of the heaviness still clinging to him.

Sirius jumped up, accidentally closing the fridge door with a bang, and turned to face Remus fully. It was only then that Remus realized what he was wearing: he had black ripped jeans and a black tee, his hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail; and on top of all that, he had one of those aprons that had a buff man printed on the front, that read “Kiss the chef”.

Remus stared for so long that Sirius followed his gaze and looked down, only to look back up quickly with a blush. “It was James’ idea of a joke.”

James, as Remus was quickly learning, took special pleasure in teasing his friends, although Lily claimed he always failed when it came to her. But Sirius clearly treasured anything that came from his best friend, no matter how silly or awkward.

Clearing his throat, Remus stepped into the kitchen and peered at the stove. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes!” Sirius exclaimed, seemingly glad for the rapid move of the subject. “I thought you could use some hangover breakfast,” he added with a shrug before turning back to the mixing bowl on the counter.

“Oh,” Remus said dumbly, taken by surprise. He scrambled for something to add. “Did you get the recipe from the same place as those cookies?”

Sirius spluttered and threw an offended look over his shoulder. “Mon Dieu, I’m never going to live that down, am I? I’ll have you know, these are my speciality. But I won’t give you anything if you keep that attitude up.”

Laughing quietly, Remus breathed a sigh of relief that Sirius wasn't looking at him with pity or mentioning his sorry state from the night before. So much had happened between them in just one day, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act anymore. He shuffled awkwardly to the island and, as he leaned on it, the name of the song Sirius had been dancing to dawned on him.

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to Black Dog,” Remus said, covering his face, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Hey,” Sirius turned to point at him with the batter-covered ladle, “Plant speaks to me on a spiritual level. I’m sending good vibes to Cocoa.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, making an effort to keep the corners of his mouth down. “You do know that the lyrics have nothing to do with dogs, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the feeling that counts,” he waved his hand dismissively, sending a few vanilla-colored drops flying, “and the song title.” Smiling at that logic, Remus shook his head—as weird as it was, he found it reassuring. Sirius peered at him as he flipped the golden pancakes easily. “I’m glad you look better. How are you feeling?”

Remus tensed up, but it didn’t look like Sirius was making fun of him. Focusing on some point by his feet, he rubbed at his neck. "Yeah, um. Thank you for your help. And sorry about...everything. I guess it was one thing after the other and it was just too much.”

“We’ve been through this, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Sirius smiled tentatively. “Have they contacted you from the vets?”

“Actually, I called just now.” His heart rate picked up as excitement coursed through his body. Saying the words aloud made them even more real, allowed them to settle in and gave way to tiny pinpricks of impatience. “They said everything’s good. I can bring him home after lunch.”

Sirius turned to face him fully and his hand went to grip Remus’ forearm, his smile turning so bright it was almost blinding. “Remus, that’s great.”

Remus smiled too, staring straight at him. “Yeah,” he breathed. After a second too long, he coughed discreetly and moved back. “I just feel like I won’t be able to relax fully until I see him, you know? I wish I could go over now.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sirius said as he leaned back too, fingers moving to play with the strings of his apron. “Just a few more hours, eh?” Remus hummed noncommittally and, sensing that he needed a bit of a distraction, Sirius turned his attention back to the food. “In the meantime, can you get the plates from over there?” He pointed at a cabinet as he got the pan out of the stove.

Remus did as he was asked and brought them over to the counter, where an array of toppings were waiting. His stomach grumbled as he watched Sirius cutting up some strawberries to place over the pancakes and then drizzling chocolate on top of everything, singing under his breath to the next song on his playlist. It was all oddly domestic. It was nice.

They sat in the living room to eat, though instead of sharing the couch like they had last night, Sirius—now without the ridiculous apron—sat across the coffee table on one of the armrests. Remus took a bite of the fluffy sponge and closed his eyes with a hum. “Ok, you were right. These are awesome.”

Sirius had just taken a mouthful himself, but he beamed before he swallowed and licked some of the chocolate off his finger. “Glad you like them, Re. I don’t think my reputation could have survived another fiasco.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a lucky mistake?” Remus joked, if only to ignore the way his stomach jumped at the nickname, prompting Sirius to throw a napkin at him.

For the next two hours or so, the conversation was light and easy while the music kept playing at a dim level. But, as time went on and the plates got piled up on the coffee table, Sirius started getting distracted.

He kept glancing at his phone like he was checking the time or waiting for a call. Remus would have thought that he was overstaying his welcome—Sirius had a life to get back to, after all—if it weren’t for the fact that the man kept the conversation going and going, asking questions and gesturing excitedly when he was telling a story about how he and his friends had once managed to get a flock of pigeons inside a train full of passengers. At this point, Remus was pretty sure that Sirius was not capable of lying.

A lazy breeze drifted in from the open window, bringing in the smell of morning dew and ruffling Sirius’ hair so that a few strands fell in front of his face. As he brushed them back, he raised his eyes and pinned Remus with a look that was slowly becoming very familiar. That look that said he wanted to say something but he was choosing his words carefully.

Remus was pretty sure he knew what that meant. So far, everything he’d blabbed about the night before had been skillfully avoided—mostly by Remus averting his eyes every time Sirius looked at him like that. He wasn’t looking away now though. Wasn’t sure he could, honestly; not with such intensity and thinly-veiled concern directed his way. Sirius opened his mouth, the words starting to form at the back of his throat when Remus’ phone pinged.

He jumped slightly and went to quickly fish it out of his pocket, holding on to the getaway it provided. Talking about his behaviour or the few hints he’d let slip about his past was not something he was ready to tackle. A quiet sigh dropped from Sirius’ lips as he got up to take the plates back to the kitchen, while Remus stared at the notification flashing on his home page. “Oh, Padfoot just uploaded a new video?”

The sound of ceramic banging in the sink startled Remus into looking up. “Um...you ok?”

“Yes! Too much soap,” Sirius’ voice came back, muffled slightly by the running water.

Remus snorted and got comfortable on one end of the couch, resting his back on the side and pulling his knees up. He wiggled his toes as he waited for the page to load, digging them into the plush sofa and then tapping his feet when the video finally started. It began like usual, with the starting screen of a game and Padfoot’s cheerful voice.

“Hello everyone and welcome! You’ve all been nagging at me to play with Prongs more often, so I hope you appreciate how much effort it took to get his ass out of bed.”

“That’s so not the introduction I was expecting,” another voice complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to do it?”

“Why, yes, thank you. Hello y’all! By popular demand and because I know you like me more than this silly goose, I am here to play some games and have fun! Mostly at Padfoot’s expense.”

“You’re the only person in the world who could say ‘silly goose’ and not have everyone laughing at them.”

“I know, it’s a skill I honed for years.”

“What the hell,” Remus laughed, shaking his head fondly.

Sirius came back into the room, drying his hands absentmindedly on his pants as he took his seat back. He sat at the very edge of the cushion, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped between his knees, eyes down.

Remus made a questioning sound, waving the phone in front of him. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Sirius croaked, gesturing with his hand for him to go on as he cleared his throat.

A small line of confusion pulled Remus’ brows together. Something was definitely going through Sirius’ mind. Deciding to give the man some time, Remus focused his attention back on the video and made a note to ask later if something was bothering him.

Padfoot was talking about the game they were going to play and Remus could feel his energy even through the screen. He always got like this when he was trying something new. Remus pictured him bouncing on his chair, waiting impatiently to start playing, tapping the buttons in anticipation. “He’s like a kid on sugar, isn’t he?” he said without thinking.

A cough came from Sirius’ spot. “Well, I… I think it’s...nice? He sounds happy.”

The corners of Remus’ lips tugged up in a small smile at that. “Yeah. That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“He didn’t seem his usual self in the past few streams. I’m just glad he’s ok, is all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw how Sirius’ hands gripped his knees tightly, slipping through the holes in his jeans. Remus watched in silence but, just when he was about to ask what was going on, the video changed. A small square appeared on one of the corners, showing a man sitting in a chair, not much to see in the background, his face covered with the black dog that was his signature logo. Remus sat up straighter. It wasn’t often that Padfoot appeared in his videos and he couldn’t help the interest that sparked inside him whenever it happened. He scanned the small image until something caught his eye.

“Huh? ...Wait. That’s—” Remus froze for a second before promptly throwing his phone to the other end of the couch. “Oh my God.” He covered his mouth, feeling the pull of his mouth as a grin lit up his face, his wide eyes not leaving the small device lying innocently face up. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“What happened?”

Remus turned to see Sirius looking at him with a confused little smile, probably wondering if he was still drunk or just bonkers.

“He...he’s wearing my merch. My merch.” And one of his favourite hoodies from the collection, at that. “How—How does he even know about me? I know he likes to keep in shape but…”

The faintest blush crossed Sirius’ cheeks. He rubbed his hands together, looking down at them and then back up at Remus’ still astounded face. He took a deep breath and exhaled in one go. “You know, I’m...” He trailed off, mouth opening and closing a few times.

Remus tried to bring his thoughts back to the room, to the man in front of him and not the one on the screen. He bent forward to grab the discarded phone, his mind still reeling as he paused the video. “Yeah?” he prompted Sirius to go on when he straightened back up, smile still in place—he wasn’t sure he could wipe it off even if he wanted to.

Sirius’ grey eyes roamed his face, then went to the phone in his hands before they finally settled on his bright expression and he sighed, smiling and shaking his head. “No, nevermind.”

Remus tilted his head, but Sirius simply shrugged. “Are you sure? You can say it, whatever it is.”

“I don’t think it’s the right time,” Sirius admitted, letting his head fall back as he worried his lip.

Curiosity flared up, dazzling and hot, and Remus tried to water it down, unwilling to trespass Sirius’ boundaries. Instead, he looked down and tried to organise his whirring mind, eyes going to the clock on his phone. “Fuck,” he muttered. He really wanted to finish watching and keep talking with Sirius, but it was getting late. “I should probably get going.”

“Oh,” Sirius blinked as he raised his head up. “You can stay if you want to.”

“No, I…” Remus stood up. “I should go get the key from Leo. I will probably see both his mom and mine, which means it won’t be a short visit and I’d like to be at the clinic as soon as possible.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Stopping midstep, Remus turned to look at Sirius, eyebrows raised. “Come with me?”

“Yeah, to the clinic? You are not too fond of them.”

It wasn’t a question, but Remus replied anyway, surprised that Sirius had caught on to that at all. “No, I’m not,” he said, dumbfounded. He shook his head. “But it’s ok, you did a lot for me already.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Remus, anyone in my place would have done the same.”

No, they wouldn’t.

“It’s fine, really. Leo will probably come with me,” he said. He wasn’t sure how Sirius could think that everyone was that selfless, that any person would have helped an almost stranger without thinking it was too much effort. Remus chose not to say anything about it, knowing fully well that was not the case.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

hehe im glad you joined us for the hug prompts! I'll ask you for 14 - leaping hug with... mergwaine! hopefully that works for you otherwise second option for a ship would be mercelot!

thank you for the prompt!!! you will notice a theme with the other prompts (and each one that came in made me grin even more, you'll see why throughout this week) and i'll stick this under the cut because it is quite long for a prompt, i'm sorry.

hope that you enjoy it! 💖

feel free to send any other prompts

It was when Merlin’s eyes started to lose the mirth that Gwaine had suggested lightening their load with a game. Merlin had been reluctant, at first, to stray from the task at hand, but Gwaine had pointed out that they were halfway through the army’s boots and that they needed to take some sort of break before their arms cramped up.

Quite how hurling boots across the throne room alleviated the tension in their arms, Merlin wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Only with the ones we haven’t cleaned yet, right?’ he uncertainly asked Gwaine, picking up one particularly muddy boot.

Gwaine, having swung two boots over his shoulders, flicked back his hair. ‘Your choice, Merlin. We can either scuff the clean boots, or have to clean mud off the throne afterwards. Which I see as a rather appropriate metaphor.’

Frowning, Merlin turned over the boot in his hands. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s always the common people cleaning the king’s image, isn’t it? Sanitising it. He’s always idolised by them, when he never deserves it.’

Mouth set in a grim line, Gwaine retreated to the back of the throne room and gripped the shaft of the boot, swinging it around his head and sending mud flying in all directions. As Merlin sheltered his head with one arm, Gwaine let go of the boot and watched with a satisfied smirk as it sailed across the room and landed firmly on the throne. The dim sunlight scattered across his face painted him in a mosaic of stained glass and Merlin’s hand faltered slightly, boot beginning to slip through his grasp.

Sparing Merlin a brief glance, Gwaine removed the second boot from his shoulder and squinted up at the balcony behind him. Merlin, catching his meaning, really did drop the boot as he held out a hand. ‘No. No way. Arthur will string both of us up, now that I’ve put that idea in his head, if you do that.’

With a shrug, Gwaine dutifully turned away. ‘I believe it’s your turn.’

Picking up the boot again, the servant adjusted his grip and moved to stand beside Gwaine and flung it towards the throne. His arms, already weary from cleaning at least fifteen boots, didn’t provide enough power and the boot crashed into the polite queue stretching across the floor, scattering them like birds after a stone had been hurled at them. Gwaine suppressed a snort.

‘In my defence, I’m usually the one getting things thrown at me,’ Merlin muttered, approaching the chaos with a small sigh.

Gwaine’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Who throws things at you?’

‘The townspeople when I’m in the stocks. Arthur. The knights, sometimes. Arthur again—’

‘Why does Arthur throw things at you?’

Merlin, his back still to Gwaine as he rummaged through the footwear to find the boot, shrugged. ‘Because he feels like it, I suppose. It’s fine. I’m used to it.’

‘And I thought you said he was different.’

‘He is different,’ Merlin replied, finding the boot and turning around. ‘It’s just that—Gwaine!’

Gwaine was clinging to the central statue,shaft of the boot between his teeth, his legs wrapped seductively around its waist as he tried to hoist himself up. There was a muffled: ‘What?’ and he twisted his head with an attempt at a grin.

‘You’re going to fall off.’

‘M’not.’

Shimmying up the statue, Gwaine reached up for the wrists of the two angels, hauling up his feet from the shoulders of the statue to the sculpted towers above, lurching unsteadily. Merlin desperately wanted to look away, but couldn’t bring himself to alter the direction of his gaze. He felt his eyes slide down Gwaine’s body and rest on his very prominent arse as he squatted momentarily and, catching himself, Merlin pushed his stare to what seemed to be the safe region of Gwaine’s shoulders.

Then Gwaine moved and the muscles in his shoulders bulged beneath his shirt. Merlin could feel the heat rising in his neck. As Gwaine’s foot slipped, Merlin darted towards the statue, hand outstretched to intervene if necessary. Regaining his footing, Gwaine’s hands caught the railings of the balcony and he tumbled over the top, landing with a muffled thump.

‘Arthur is actually going to kill me.’

Leaning over the balcony, Gwaine removed the boot and spat out flakes of mud with a look of disgust. ‘I’ll protect you, Merlin, don’t worry,’ he said, taking a knife from his boot and throwing it in the air with a grin.

It catapulted through the air and embedded itself in the floorboards only inches from Merlin, who had watched its progress with an ever-increasing sense of doom. ‘You saying that fills me with feelings of safety, Gwaine,’ Merlin drily said, folding his arms. ‘There’s no way that you’re going to be able to get that boot to hit the mark.’

‘Not without you up here for moral support.’

Merlin took one look at him, bathed in sunlight, and sighed heavily. Wordlessly, he pushed through one of the doors leading to a narrow staircase – why Gwaine hadn’t elected that route, Merlin was none the wiser – and ascended them two steps at a time, emerging onto the balcony. When Gwaine turned, his head was haloed by the rich woven threads of his hair, face illuminated by his smile. With a wink, he backed up as much as he could, took three decisive strides, and launched the boot over the railings. It curled in on itself as it sliced through the air in a graceful arc, mud spraying the floor like droplets of water from a salmon leaping upstream. It landed in the centre of the throne with a shudder from the sudden breeze it had created.

When Merlin looked towards Gwaine, his eyes travelled down to the exposed skin of his chest as he leaned over the railings and hastily drew his gaze to Gwaine’s smile. ‘See? Having you near me makes all the difference. Now, your turn.’

Merlin raised his eyebrows. ‘If I couldn’t do it down there, what on earth makes you think I could achieve what you just did?’

Levering himself from the railings, Gwaine stood in front of him, hands firmly on his shoulders. ‘Believe in yourself a little, Merlin. Anyway, being higher up actually makes it easier.’

Still unconvinced, Merlin gripped the shaft of the boot a little tighter. He cast one more look at Gwaine to give him the strength to aim as his friend moved away to give him space. Drawing his arm back, Merlin focused his gaze on the stern throne, pictured Arthur’s face when he’d said about there being no downside to Merlin being strung up, and hurled the shoe with all his remaining energy.

It shot through the air, collided with the top of the throne and dropped down on top of Gwaine’s.

In one smooth motion, Gwaine had launched himself at Merlin, hugging him in the same manner he’d embraced the statue. Merlin, thankful that he was steady on his feet for once, laughed into Gwaine’s neck and put one arm beneath his thighs to support him. There was the faintest scent of pickled eggs buried in the depths of Gwaine’s hair but Merlin didn’t mind it as much as he would have thought. There was a murmured phrase of congratulations breathed into the echoing crevice between his neck and neckerchief and both parties were vaguely aware that the appropriate time had elapsed for physical contact, but neither moved to detach themselves.

As Merlin marvelled at how much lighter Gwaine was than he’d expected, Gwaine was busy wondering if it would be possible to push down Merlin’s trousers with his legs and believably claim it was an accident. He wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to launch himself at Merlin, though perhaps it had been prompted by the smile of disbelief that had spread across his mouth like the dawn when the boot had hit its target. And if this was the first victory that Merlin had secured in a short while, then Gwaine had thought that it deserved to be honoured properly.

Adjusting his grip so his hands fell to Merlin’s shoulders, Gwaine inhaled the delicate aroma of cinnamon that had folded itself in Merlin’s clothes. Perhaps he could be happy here, in Merlin’s arms. If Merlin didn’t get tired of him, that was. Beneath his body, Merlin shifted, other arm skimming Gwaine’s thighs. His head was still turned towards Gwaine’s neck, their cheeks grazing gently against each other, and Gwaine resisted the urge to nip at the skin covering the top of Merlin’s spine. One collision at a time. He was just about to try and push down Merlin’s trousers – because that wasn’t a collision, that was simply testing the waters – when the door below them crashed open and Merlin dropped his arms, startled.

Gwaine’s legs dropped with them and he slipped down, dangling from Merlin’s neck with his feet several inches above the ground. Tentatively, Merlin leaned forward to peer over the balcony and Gwaine swung with him, eyes moving with a growing sense of dread to the disrupted line of boots. Arthur was stood in the centre of the room, arms folded, with a stony expression sketched across his face.

‘One of you had better have a very good explanation for why exactly you are up there.’

Merlin and Gwaine turned to look at each other, and Gwaine’s witty reply was lost along with his breath as he caught sight of subtle flecks of gilt in Merlin’s eyes. As he grasped for words that he no longer had, Merlin twisted his head to look back at Arthur. ‘I was giving Gwaine a tour.’

‘I’ll be giving you both a tour of the stocks if you don’t get down here instantly,’ Arthur threatened.

As Gwaine detached himself from the servant, he let his hand run discreetly across the back of Merlin’s shirt, smirking at the subtle shiver Merlin emitted. Perhaps if he stuck around, then perhaps he could see just where else Merlin could successfully aim.

[fipindustries]

Mouth Dreams analysis

MOUTH DREAMS

I dont even need to introduce to you the marvelous mash up works of neil cicierega’s mouth trilogy (now quadrilogy i guess). We all know them, we all love them and we all have our own interpretations of what they mean. For some merely musical shitposting, for others clever experimentation laden with phrases, leivmotifs and themes repeating here and there, and for many a deep and rich bounty of lore, hidden messages, subtextual stories and underlying narratives implied across multiple variations of all star, hidden in the meta data and uncovered only after doing spectrographic analysis on the soundwaves of the songs after being played at x0.000003 times the speed. It is usually understood that all the albums together form a unique and rich tapestry, a coherent whole that can be understood in its totality. Im not here to do that.

I came up with my own interpretation of what Mouth Dreams can be read as, independent from the other albums. Think of it as me presenting this entry as the soundtrack of a musical with its own self contained story. It is the interpretation that i chose to go by and i hope its understood the brilliance of these albums lies on how weird and vague and open ended they are such that any number of different readings can be extracted from them. So lets see the one i extracted, without further ado, lets begin.

Yahoo

It is an out of context, in media res, start for the whole story. We hear a voice, echoing in the void, yelling at the top of its lungs, reaching desperately for human conection. One form of looking at this song is that the voice only receives an empty response from its own echoes, but i dont take it like that. The song is too sublime and too beautiful for these, the notes soaring too high, the desperate plead is being answered. Someone is listening to the plead and answering right back, harmonizing.

This whole album is in a way that howl, reaching to others, and we the audience are answering back, listening. But also on another level, this whole album is the protagonist telling the tragic story of his own life to some sympathetic figure who wants to help, perhaps a therapist, perhaps a friend, perhaps a partner, we’ll see. And as the yelling subsides the story starts proper.

Mouth dreams (intro)

We are being slowly taken into the story, entering the psyche of the main character, entering their subconscious, their dreams, their memories and therefore, their past. We’ll see what life they led and how they ended up where they are now and we start right at his infancy with….

Spongerock

Spongebob is a great indicator that we are seeing this person’s early childhood. They seem to be a rambunctious and energetic child. Cheerful and enthusiastic, yet there seems to be some underlying aggression there. The music is a bit to strong, and in comes freddy mercury berating the poor kid “you’ve got mud on your face, you big disgrace”. Who is this entity being so hostile to a poor kid? What lies beneath that image of a happy kid? We are about to see on the next song.

Just a baby

This is where trouble starts. We are treated to a dramatic song about a poor young baby who seems to be having a pretty sad life. Justin bieber, former teen idol, keeps lamenting about the poor baby being stuck in baby jail. This song is very much about loss of innocence. A shadowy figure of the mother is introduced who tells the protagonist to be a good boy. And almost at the end of the song we get a suggestion of what’s so wrong on this poor kid’s life. His mother apparently “shot a man in reno”. We dont know if this is a literal thing the mother did or if this is a metaphor for the mother doing something horrible, commiting some crime, harming someone in some way. While its not clarified we see strong hints of what the mother could have done in the next song

Superkiller

As we worry what may be so wrong with this kid’s mother we come across the title for this song, ominous. Now in the original Psycho killer the killer was clearly the singer, but in here the song is twisted and turned a bit, recontextualized by the beats of “cant touch this”. It seems like this time is the singer the one who doesnt want to be touched by some nefarious figure (the mother? Is the mother a psycho killer?) maybe the kid saw the mother killing people “i dont like people when they’re on fire”. whatever the case might be the kid is clearly strung up and under a lot of stress and we are introduced to the first hint of the insomnia that will plague this persons life who cant sleep because “my bed’s on fire”. The horrible situation in which this kid is living is taking a severe toll on their mental health. How is he going to cope with this?

Get happy

I think everyone can agree that “come on get happy” is incredibly unnerving when mindlessly repeated over and over. A first read might suggest the kid is forced to put on a happy face, to pretend that there is nothing wrong going on with their life. But as the song progresses it could also be interpreted as the kid being tempted to find refuge from the horror by unsavory methods “get happy” as in acquire happiness of a forced and artificial kind, perhaps drugs. But also “we’ll make you happy”. The kid is not running into a rabbit hole on their own, they are being invited. Its possible that the kid is being seduced by a bad crowd to move into seedy circles as an escape from their life.

Ribs

In here we see the kid, probably a young teenager by this point as suggested by the use of marylin manson in this song, falling deep into debauchery. The specific kind is not needed to know, it could be drugs, it could be sexual experimentation, it could be criminality. Point is this is unhealthy and dangerous and depraved, emphasized by the title of the song “ribs” as a reference to the rumor that marilyn manson removed two of his ribs in order to perform autofellatio. Whatever the case it clearly works, the song is actually a great bop, energetic and upbeat, the kid is content with the situation, at least for a while…

My mouth

This song is the coming down from the high. In here we see at full blast how the life of depravity on the one side and their situation at home on the other have turned the character into a hardcore insomniac, their health is severy compromised “My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed

Dried up and bulging out my skull”. Another way to read this song is as we momentarily cutting back to the present. After all, what we have been seeing until now has been dreams/memories and this is a short look at the wreck that the person is as a grown up, stirring awake from their memories and trying desperately to forget or to go back to sleep where they can have a reprieve. As evidenced by the next song

Aerolong

I dont wanna miss a thing is completely turned on its head. As the lyrics clearly demonstrate is the protagonist who cant go to sleep being chased by their memories, specifically the memories of their mother “I don't miss you, babe, and I do want to miss a thing”. As the person is tossing and turning on their bed, unable to sleep they talk about how they dont miss their mother at all and they want to “miss” her as in they want to forget her.

Sleepin’

The character is constantly speaking about how they are “sleeping with their clothes on” this is due to them falling asleep during their everyday life because of their lack of sleep every night, this person is barely functional, their sleep schedule is broken. Also since this song is about the character actually sleeping it also works as a bridge back into their dreams and so into their past.

Aammoorree

Is another vignette about the character sinking into disreputable states in order to escape their shitty situation as a teenager, this time very specifically about being completely drunk and perhaps experiencing romance for the first time. The character is probably at a club or a party, drunkenly hitting on someone, though chances are without much success as the song becomes increasingly more incoherent and we go into a full black out. This gets bad enough that the person finally has to take a look and….

Where is my mom

….stop. It is highly suggestive that in the album the “stop” is part of this song rather than the last one. The person is not only stopping their current alcoholic binge. They are stopping the entire situation and taking a good look at their life, finally confronting face to face what is happening and why it is so wrong. Now “stacy’s mom” was always kind of an inappropriate song due to it being about a child having a crush on their friend’s mom, as sung by an adult. But as it is recontextualized by the instruments of “where is my mind” it takes on a much darker tone. The romantic words are still there but now with a sinister bent. This time the main character asks their friend if they can go and take refuge at their house and when they ask if the mom is going to be there they sound more scared than eager, specially suggested by the way he seems to be stammering the word “pool”, they are nervous and terrified. They also talk about stacy’s mom as “all they want and been waiting for so long”, probably because all they want is a normal, loving mother. Presumably this song is about the main character finally talking about what is going on at his house with a friend, confessing and that confession gives way to realization

Fredhammer

Then realization gives way to anger. During this whole song we see the teenage character finally grasping how fucked up the whole situation is and he gets progressively more worked up with each successive aggravation “Why did it take so long? Why (hoo!), did I wait so long, huh?

Why??? To figure it out, but I did it (huh?)”. From this we transition to the kid actually confronting their mom face to face. The line “So you can take that cookie And stick it up your (yeah!)” can be read as the mother trying to pretend there is nothing wrong or pacifying the kid with empty gestures of motherhood, by making cookies and the kid spitting that back into their face. The kid gets more and more worked up through the song as we seamlessly transition to the next one.

Limp Wicket

This song is pure incoherent chaos but something very important can be rescued out of the chaos. This song uses the lyrics from the “ewok celebration” which is presumably the song the ewoks sing in return of the jedi after the empire was defeated. So in a way is the kid celebrating that he finally confronted their mother and presumably defeated her. This is emphazised by the recurrence of the lyrics ““So you can take that cookie”. Is not specified how the mother is defeated, maybe social services or the police get involved, maybe the kid runs away, either way this song is triumphant. The evil entity that stole his childhood and innocence has been defeated.

Cannibals

This song is slightly different from the rest. It works as a form of victory lap after the defeat of the mother figure, but also as an intermission since it lies smack dab in the middle of the album, and finally as a transitionary song from childhood to adulthood. Is a time skip, we get to see the person grow up in fast forward as the THX song hits its crescendo. This song also makes it perfectly clear that, even though she was left behind, the mental scars that the mother left are still there and still fresh and still very much stopping them from sleeping “She drives me crazy

And I can't help myself”. 

The outsiders

This works as a way to recontextualize us in the life of the character as an adult. Our so called “feature presentation”. It is not altogether clear who these people being introduced are. They could be the people who came to mean something in this persons life as they grew up after trauma, probably multiple foster homes, social workers, friends, bosses, co workers, etc. the fact that they are being enumerated dissapasionatly could indicate how most of his social relationships were basically a meaningless blur for him who grew up socially distant due to trauma. It could also represent the multiple roles that our character was forced to take as they grew up and the multiple things that went through his mind or meant something. There is clearly some desperate attempts to recapture their lost childhood as figures such as “inspector gadget” or “the ninja turtles part three” are named. The song is a fast montage of views and places. That prepares us for the next song.

Johnny

We finally zoom in and take a good look at our main character as an adult. A sad, pathetic figure, hurt and lonely, possibly not very well liked and certainly not respected as we hear boos all around. Despite all this the character is clearly committing themselves to be a good person, to not hurt others like he was hurt and specifically to not commit the same crimes that their mother commited.

Closerflies & Nightmovin

These two songs might as well work as a single piece since they are both more or less about the same thing. We reiterate how this person has been turned into an insomniac due to the trauma that they experienced as a child “When I'm far too tired to fall asleep”. They are delirious and barely coherent, possibly hallucinating as they think about their life in bed. This is clearly hell on earth and it seems like its just never going to stop “Can't wake up in a sweat

'Cause it ain't over yet” but, with neil’s classic sense of humor, the song immediately ends.

Now that could just be for the sake of irony but there is also another level in which it could be read. This suffering stops because something suddenly changes in this person’s life. What could that be?

Whitehouse

“I fell in love with a girl”

As the lyrics say, the main character met someone special and they are deeply in love. But also, because of the past that weighs heavily on him, he is very trepidatious about wether to go on with the relationship or not. He knows he is damaged goods and he doesnt want to drag her down as well, these fears make it so he never fully opens up to her about his issues “She turns and says, "Are you alright?" I said, "I must be fine because my heart's still beating." 

Wah

The use of “war” by edwin starr is a clever reference about how everything is fair in love and war. Now this song is an important departure since it is sung from the point of view of the girl our main character fell in love with. She is a feisty woman who is very clearly trying to establish the terms of the relationship and demanding her partner to open up which the main character, due to his insecurities, takes as a declaration of war and which he deflects by playing dumb, hence the repeated use of the silly “WAH” by wario. 

Pee Wee Inc

The emotional distance from the man is putting a strain in the relationship, so what once was supposed to “feel good” is now this melancholic and unbearable situation. Is no mistake that the song sampled here is “the breakfast machine” from pee wee’s big adventure. After all  a neglected partner can feel like a breakfast machine, an object that is there just to make your breakfast. On top of this you can see that the insomnia hasnt gone away “My dreams, they got a kissing 'cause I don't get to sleep, no”. In a lot of ways the girlfriend is feeling used as just a relief from the man’s suffering but not as someone who is being truly loved.

1000 spoons

We go back to the woman’s perspective. At first it just seems like a simple melancholic situation where she is sad the relationship is not working, but then we see the woman have a full mental breakdown as the song changes and becomes much more deranged and we get to see what is really happening. The man ran away on their wedding day. This is represented by the lyrics “is like rain on your wedding day” because it means the wedding has been ruined. She is heartbroken by this.

Mouth dreams (extro)

Appropriately as the previous song talked about a wedding being ruined by “rain” this song begins with the sound of rain. This is the big emotional climax of the story, the music at its most dramatic. Now i will admit, even for me this is a stretch, im willing to concede most of what i am about to say is essentially built out of whole cloth and me wanting to fit a neat full narrative into this album where there is none, but hey, what is art for?

Essentially the man is about to commit suicide, possibly by jumping off a bridge in the rain as suggested by the song being sampled “drowning”. The fact that this song is named after the album is a way to signify how everything that we have just seen weighs heavily on the man’s heart, his whole life, his memories, his trauma, and he is finally ready to end it all. He jumps.

But at the last second his wife jumps after him and drags him to the shore, the last we see is her trying to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation, as indicated by the song,”love me mouth to mouth now…” he is unconscious and presumably finally sleeping peacefully (maybe dead?) “...cover me with dreams, yeah”.

It might look like he will not survive, as implied by the sinister version of all star encroaching over the song. But as it looks like all hope is lost he finally WAKES UP.

In a way this song is also when we finally catch up with the start of the album where we saw the man desperately hollering for human contact and merely echos responding, except now someone finally answered, and he is finally ready to open up and share his story.

Brithoven

Even though this song is sung by a single person i choose to take it as a dialog between the couple, both of them sharing their regrets about their relationship with each other, her recriminating the fact that she couldnt have known what he was going through “oh baby bay, how was i supposed to know, that something wasnt right here” and him finally admitting that he needs help “My loneliness is killing me”.

Finally they both agree to try it again and give their relationship a second chance “hit me baby one more time”

Ain’t

Part of me is conflicted about this song, i kind of want to disregard it, mainly because i think its kind of a weird way to end an album and also because i just dont feel is a very good mashup really. The lyrics dont mix that well with the song, they are paced in an inconsistent way and overall feel like they never truly click. On top of that it just doesnt fit at all with the narrative that i have been building during this analysis.

There is talk about alcoholism and parent abandoment, this time by the father, a figure that was never mentioned during the album. The last line says “say it aint so” which doesnt particularly seem to reflect on any of the themes i’ve been building upon. Ultimately i think i will just leave it besides and be content that i managed to fit almost all of the album into one story, this process was never meant to be a perfect dissection of the carefully planned story that neil deliberately crafted but rather me having fun seeing pictures in a rorshach test.

So anyway that was Mouth dreams, let me know what you thought.

[cinebration]

Choose Where (Victor Zsasz x Reader) [Part 11]

THE END. Thank you all so much for sticking around!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 

Tagged: @im-just-one-of-the-avengers, @strangeaddiction1306, @vaaalexandra​, @marvelenthusiast10​, @thefandomqueen2882​, @33rie33​, @cassiopeia-barrow​

Warnings: cutting, mutilation, blood

Image Source: directedbysnyder

The club was empty when you returned the following day. No note. You didn’t ask around to find out where Zsasz had gone. You merely threw yourself into the work.

As the only person left in charge of Roman’s operation, courtesy of the CFO paperwork you had filed months before, you took over.

The first thing you did was tear down the torture wallpaper with your bare hands.

For the next few months, you ripped out every piece of art in the place but for the big black hands and eyes framing the stage. You bought new furniture, replacing the tables and stools. The booths you reupholstered in maroon. You changed the lighting, keeping it warm but no longer seductive and red. You tore down the walls and replaced them with mahogany wood.

You went so far as to get rid of every single bottle of liquor in the place, ordering replacements for later.

Once in a while, when you were alone and everything was quiet, you swore you could feel fingertips ghosting over your scars, could hear Zsasz’s laughter down the halls. It took all of your effort and daily exhaustion to avoid thinking about him. All you knew was that Harley and the Birds of Prey were still alive.

The day before the grand reopening of the club, Dinah walked through the door.

You nearly leapt out of your skin. Smiling weakly, you waved her over to where you were sitting at the bar going over the bar food menu for the sixth time. “Drink?”

Dinah shook her head. “I’m not staying. I wanted to check it out.” She looked around the room. “It looks different.”

“That was the point.”

“Better, for sure.”

“I wanted to go for a speakeasy vibe. I even hired a jazz band,” you said. Eyeing her warily, you asked, “What’s new with you?”

You had never seen her so happy, so relaxed. She sat down on a stool beside you. “You’re some sort of money whiz, right?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Sort of.”

“I was hoping you could help me out. My friend can’t access her money. It got frozen in her accounts.”

“Ah.” You tapped the menu with your pen. “Your friend wouldn’t be Helena Bertinelli, would it?”

Dinah drew back. “How did you know that?”

“I’m a money whiz. The Bertinelli fortune is impossible not to hear about.”

“Can you do anything about it?”

You stared into her imploring eyes. “My relationship with Wayne Industries prevents me from helping out a vigilante group,” you said carefully. “I need them to protect me.”

“From what?”

“You don’t think other assholes want Roman’s empire?”

Dinah frowned. “We can protect you.”

“I need the Wayne Industries investments to keep this place open. But…I can tell you that you and your friends can get the money back if you find the banker who froze them.” You looked at her sideways. “I’m sure all he’ll need is a little persuasion. Of the ass-kicking variety.”

Dinah smiled. “We’re good at that.”

“I can get you the name. But that’s it.”

“Thank you.” Dinah glanced at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? Get out of this place?”

You laughed. “I kick numbers and stock markets and investors, not ass.”

“Helena’s fortune is a lot of money to manage.”

“Thanks, but no.”

Sighing, Dinah stood and glanced around the room once more. “How can you stand it here?”

You spun in the stool, surveying the wood-paneled space. “I remade it on my terms.”

“Why did you keep the name? And those,” she said, gesturing to the sculpture on the stage.

“I figured it was the perfect ‘fuck you’ to Sionis.”

Dinah laughed, her voice swelling to fill the space. She left, the laughter trailing after her.

The next night, the grand reopening went spectacularly. The speakeasy vibe drew a different crowd. The jazz band filled the air with soothing rhythms. No man threw a tantrum and made women dance against their wills atop tables.

At 2am, closing time, you sat up in the office by yourself, hyper aware of your solitude. As though moving through water, you closed up the bar and returned to your shitty apartment, feeling hollow and hating every second of it.

Scar greeted you at the door. Sweeping him up in your arms, you threw yourself onto the couch and cradled him, hoping his purring would soothe you.

Two quiet knocks sounded on your door. With a sigh, you dragged yourself off the couch.

“Mrs. Robinson,” you called, opening the door, “I don’t have—”

You couldn’t breathe.

Zsasz looked the same as he had the last time you had seen him. Nearly. The rage and hurt were gone, his dark eyes cautious. You stepped aside, expecting him to storm through the door as was his way.

He walked past you slowly, hesitant. When the door shut, he turned and said, “You changed the club.”

You felt yourself deflate. Of course. It always came back to Roman. “Look—”

“It looks better.”

You blinked. “Thanks…” Determined to hurt yourself, you added, “Sionis would’ve hated it.”

“Not if you convinced him it was his idea.”

You wanted to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

Scar nosed at Zsasz’s shoes, trying to place his scent. Zsasz crouched down to run a hand over his fur. “Hey, little guy. He’s so big now.”

“Yeah.”

You wanted to ask him where the hell he’d been, but you kept your mouth shut. He’d leave soon enough, you told yourself.

“Why are you still living here?” Unlike the previous times he’d asked, the question wasn’t vehement or judgmental. If anything, his voice sounded…sad.

“Look,” you said, fighting the pain growing inside you, “just say or do whatever you came here for.”

Zsasz straightened slowly. Adam’s apple bobbing, he opened his mouth to speak, hesitated. He rubbed the back of his neck, patted his hair as he struggled to find the words. Your heart strained in your chest, stomach twisting as the silence stretched.

“I had to bury Roman,” he finally said. “He was…”

“You loved him,” you said quietly. “And he loved you, in his own selfish, twisted way.”

He nodded. “One day, I will get my revenge,” he said, the words coming out slowly. He met your eyes. “But not today.”

It was a start. “I can accept that.”

Relief washed over his features before another expression overshadowed it, his gaze intense. “Good.”

He seized your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

It was as though a dam within you burst. All the hurt and the worry and the frustration he caused you flooded forward, pouring itself through your lips. You wanted to hurt him and hold him and save him and be the reason for his destruction.

“I know,” he murmured against your lips, breaking away for a second. “I know.”

Backing you up against the door, he kissed you with ravenous desperation, a starved man aching to consume you. You couldn’t think past the heat of him, the taste of his mouth, the strength of his tongue. He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his body melding to yours.

You gasped for air, lips bruised from the intensity of the kiss. He dragged his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, lathed his tongue over the scar there. Your head tipped back against the door.

“You’re getting a new apartment,” he grunted. “No argument.”

“Fine,” you answered before reclaiming his lips. Growling, he pivoted away from the door, seeking the bedroom. A few strides and you both were on the bed, his body firmly seated between your legs. Your hands skated over his belt and tugged his shirt free of his pants, searching for skin. God, did he burn.

Tugging upward, you broke the kiss to let him yank the shirt off. Your hands slid to his belt.

“Wait.”

“Don’t tell me to wait,” you hissed. “I’ve been waiting.”

Staring into your eyes, he withdrew the knife from his pocket. For a moment, you felt a tinge of panic spike through you, but it passed as quickly as it had arrived.

“Choose where,” he whispered.

“What for?”

“On me,” he said. “So I don’t forget.”

Stunned, you let your gaze drop to his chest. Your hand traced the map of scars there, feeling each ridge. Just over his heart was a wide open space of unblemished skin. You tapped your finger there.

He rolled, taking you with him. Straddled on his hips, you looked down at his reverent expression. Taking the knife, you pressed the blade against the spot you had chosen, ghosting it over his flesh. He shivered, breath hitching in his throat. His hips bucked up against yours out of reflex.

“An X,” he said, breathless.

“Why?”

“One for each of yours.”

Heart stuttering, you set the knife against his skin, cutting deep. He tensed beneath you, grunting. His hands tightened on your hips as you made the second slash across the first. He sat up, blood running down his chest, and kissed your collarbone scar and your forehead one before staring into your face, a hand cradling your cheek.

“I know who you are now,” he said.

It took you a moment to realize he was referring to the first time you had met. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, nose brushing yours.

“Well, tell me,” you said.

“My new god,” he breathed against your lips.

You shoved him back onto the mattress. “Don’t you forget it.”

He grinned.

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch8 Discovery P2

(Warning: Death Scene ahead. The third floor is the same cut third floor in the video here and all the things described are here as well. Only behind the door is something different for the story. And Snatcher's dialogue came from the video of the cut content as well. )

The guards marched the poor woman now panicking in their grip flailing about, trying to get out of their grip like a fly in a cold spiderweb to no avail. The two giant guards marched noisily towards somewhere unknown as the third floor rooms and hallways passed them as they marched with seemingly no regard for the woman yelling and pulling between them. Eventually marching down one hallways in particular with a double door room at the end of it, heavy and thick with chains and locks fit for a dungeon instead of a bed room. The two guards went right up to it and before Poppy could even yell out peck again- She was tossed in rather hard. She landed with a giant thud sound and yelped out as her body landed with the freezing cold floor. And it only began to get colder and COLDER!! Poppy groaned from the pain but those blue eyes snapped open at the sudden noise of doors slamming behind her. Panic and adrenaline pumping through her veins and she stumbled to her feet as fast as she could. The rattling of chains and clicking of heavy locks made her fear spike worse and she went to it as fast as she could grabbing the door knob and pushing.

"HEY!! WHAT THE PECK!? LET ME OUT!!" The heavy doors creaked from her pushing and pulling and desperately turning the knob. The floor shaking lightly with the heavy footsteps of the guards walking away. The realization of them walking away made her more desperate to get out, and she now went to banging on the door. "H-HEY!! DO YOU LUGNUTS HEAR ME?! I SAID I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING OK?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT IM SORRY OK!! PLEASE!! LET ME GO!! I SWEAR TO YOU I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THAT CRAZY SHADOW LADY SAID!!"

She got no reply and could hear them getting and farther away, panicking she tore herself away from the door. Heart hammering in her ears and eyes scrambling around the dark room for any signs of escape to no avail. No windows. No other doors. Nothing. The coldness was starting to creep in now and the shadows of the room got closer....and closer...... Her panting became faster and in a moment of desperation, she backed all the way to the other side of the empty room and looked at the door. Bracing herself, she ran as fast as she could across the room and rammed her shoulder as hard as she could into the heavy duty door. A thud rang out but there wasn't even a dent in the thick would. Leaving her only falling to the ground and reaching up to rub her sore shoulder from the ramming. The cold slowly creeped closer and closer and the shadows swallowed her whole until her world fell into a black slumber for a thousand years. ....... ............. ................................

Until her awakening years later.

The silence of the frost was an almost empty numb feeling until that jolt of energy shot through, and their was a gasp of air sucked into those newly awakened lungs that coughed and sucked in breaths. Like she had been under water for such a long time. It was dark. And it was cold. And she was scared. But the energy.....It was so big. And so bright light energy. It seemed to chase the darkness away. The sore, numb, stiff limbs moved in what seemed like forever. It was so hard and she shivered from the cold she still felt. Where was she?.....What happened?.....What was that bright light?

Poppy weakly managed to move her sore, cold body into pushing her front half up and looking around the room....She was...She was still in this prison? What happened? All she remembered was a crazy snow storm, and guards, and the last thing she remembered just being thrown inside here. In the dark her slow blinking eyes could vaguely make out the door. She...She must've knocked herself out from ramming into the door. Gotta admit not her most proudest moment or best idea. How long was she even out?...Didn't matter. All she knew was that she was still stuck in that room and needed to get out before that crazy shadow lady or guards decided to come back. And get away from this frozen wasteland as fast as possible. Willing herself onto her hands and knees, and crawled to the door and began weakly pushing and banging on it. Maybe someone would come and hear her out about her story.

And someone came.

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Out of all the parts of the mansion she'd been in, the third floor was by fair the most creepy and she REALLY doubted anyone other than her and Snatcher had ever gotten this far up in the manor before and escaped Vanessa's wrath. The mafia men. Snatcher's subjects. Those Explorer guys. Rough Patch. That weird....ghost thing?? That one image made her shiver, but at least they were far away from this place now. But still. This place was creepy with a capital C. She was SURE she'd rather fight a hundred Snatcher's with an army of ghost behind him rather than explore one room of this third floor. Her ghostly friend wasn't kidding when he said Vanessa went off her deep end. The entire third floor was just COVERED wall to wall in literal newspapers. Very, VERY old timey newspapers where each one had to be hand written with an ink and pen, and copy machines weren't even a thought. She tried reading one before but found she couldn't make anything out other than maybe one or two old faded words. Some had old pictures but those were too faded to be made out too. But what she could read was Vanessa's crazy black paint scribbles painted throughout the entire place. Most were 'PRINCE', 'PRINCESS', 'QUEEN', 'KINGDOM', and VERY scarily 'HAPPILY EVER AFTER'. Along with multiple drawings of a crown here and there. But those weren't the only writings on the walls. She guessed Vanessa had at least a bit of sanity left before she lost it all because she found some full blown sentences and pictures around the place when she first explored it too. Some very weird things. In one room with a clawed chair she found a blue and green picture of a moon she guessed with an annoyed red face and a yellow crown on it's head. Not too sure what that was all about. Then there was another drawing of the moon phases over a curved line and under it looked like two eyes and a monicule similar to Moonjumper's but she didn't wanna think about that. Then there was the spooky eye and solor system diagram. And then there was the weird mural thing, looked like someone just spray painted a basic green land, blue sky, and bright sun or moon in the same colors used to draw that weird frowning moon picture. Vanessa must've been REALLY off her rocker, but what spooked her the most weren't the pictures or newspapers, but the very strange three fancy cursive writing sentences she found among them all. She still remembered them.

"The Prince loves the moon so much MAYBE HE SHOULD MARRY IT THEN MAYBE HE CAN GIVE ME MORE ATTENTION!!" She remembered Snatcher and Moonjumper saying he loved to watch the moon and stars when he was alive. So she guessed Vanessa was jealous of him loving the moon and stars as a hobby just as much as when she was Jealous over bacon. "My prince Im sorry what happened to your home I just didn't like to see you go It's alright now you can't miss it and neither will I." Hattie felt even MORE sorry for the two ghosts when she read that. They never had a chance. "I know it was weird how I said it! I just didn't want you to get unbound. All I want was for you to never leave this house." YEP!! REALLY WEIRD AND VERY OBSESSIVE!!!

She still crept forward keeping her umbrella handy and looking left and right throughout the dark. Yeah, Vanessa was still unconscious, human, and trapped inside a bathroom with no escape, but that still didn't help Hattie feel better. I mean any second she was expecting to see or her stupid, scary ghost self pop up around a corner or coming out of one of the rooms. THAT LADY WAS NUTS!!! The small creaking sounds of banging continued up ahead and the child pointed the umbrella forward, ready to blast anything at a moment's notice. She wondered for a moment if Snatcher had been right, and there really was no one up there, that it was all just the wind. Though she never heard anything like that before, she also never saw anyone frozen so maybe he was right....But that didn't sound like wind. As she tiptoed by she saw an old camera and remembered Snatcher's interference with her trying to get the time piece from the attic. Who knew he could shapeshift to look just herself. She still remembered it like it was yesterday, a camera flash then came the noodle she knew and loved to mess with. He didn't like her winning too much.

"Hey, hey now! No reason to throw a fist at your old buddy! Ha ha ha ha! What are you doing up here?" Then he appeared in the light from the camera "Don't you know she'll go mental if she catches you?" NNnnnooo. Really? She would've thought Vanessa was just chasing her to come and eat cookies like she said, not definitely turn her into an ice statue. So she asked him what he was doing there interfering with the contract they had. "What me? Im just looking for some dirt on my old friend the Moonjumper. Poor fellow. Doesn't even know he used to live here." She SEVERELY doubted that. When she first met Moonjumper he seemed super aware of the fact Vanessa was his ex lover and Hattie suspected that Snatcher was just mocking him which confirmed her suspicions with the next sentence. "Eeeeevery time I bring him something from this place he almost wets his bed in fear. Ha ha ha ha!" YEP! Moonjumper def knew who Vanessa was. "Subcon Forest isn't big enough for the two of us you know. And now you, a little girl, is trying to enter the fight for the forest as well? My, my. That won't do. You need to go or else she'll come up here and find you, right? I guess it would be a terrible misfortune if the key disappeared. Ha ha ha ha!" Oh yes. The good mindset he had that everyone was trying to take his forest and admitted at first he thought she was trying t invade his forest since he heard a lot about alien invasions. Then she had to go around chasing him while dodging Vanessa when he stole the key to the attic from her. "Ha Ha! It's mine! What are you gonna do?Don't you know you can't hurt a shadow?" .....Yeah. She got it back, but he was a sore loser as always. "You want the key? Take it! It's yours! I don't need it anyway and you won't be needing it either when she catches you! Ha ha ha!!" Jokes on him! She never will and he always lost to her!

But right now she'd give anything to hear that loud mouth yell at her, or the sweet voice of Moonjumper. But instead she heard nothing but the sounds of the smaller banging like the wind hitting the roof over and over again, but it didn't come from above. It came from right in front of her. She crept forward ever so slowly, the lightning lighting up the room every few moments as the child tip toed her way down the hall and towards the noise until it lead her face to face down a long stretch of hallway. It was dark and lead all the way down to that weird heavily locked door she had scene when she first got here. At first she thought it was the attic but the key Snatcher stole from her way back when didn't fit, so she just assumed it was more of Vanessa's crazy stuff. But the noises.....they were coming from the inside of the door. The chains were swaying lightly with each small bang from what she could see from the lightning. The rusty chains and locks shone in the light as well as the giant signs painted on it that read "STAY OUT" and "NEVER OPEN" and "TURN AROUND". Since when did she listen to signs, she slowly inched forward and brandished her umbrella in front of her just in case. But now this begged the questions. Why was the door making the weird noise? Was someone locked inside the room? How did they get in there? Were they a bad guy? The floor bourds creaked with her footsteps as she approached and after a second the noises completely stopped-.......Which confused the child into raising an eyebrow and walking over to the door. Gazing across the many things holding it shut before gaining up the courage to ask a question.

"Hello?"

There was silence for a good long moment. Tho Hattie couldn't see it, the woman on the other side of the door felt like she was about to cry from relief and happily answered back after another few short seconds.

"H-Hello?"

Hattie obviously jumped at the sudden raspy woman's voice coming from the other side of the door, but after a brief moment she realized with relief it wasn't Vanessa's voice. Then who was it? Another prisoner? She stood on her tip toes ad if trying to peer through the key hole under the doorknob. "Who are you?"

Her. THROAT. WAS. DRIER THAN A SANDSTORM!! It felt like she hadn't drank any water in a hundred years, but she was SO happy someone was even talking to her. This might be the hope she was looking for. The other's voice was clearly female and Poppy wondered old she was. She sounded quite young. "M-My name is Poppy. P-Please let me out *cough cough* I swear I d-d-didn't do anything wrong!"

"How did you get in there? Did Vanessa freeze you too?"

Vanessa? Who's Vanessa? The only Vanessa she knew was the Queen, but despite the Queen's strange behaviors and laws, from the few times she'd seen her in the village she seemed like a lovely lady and the children loved her so much. "I-I d-don't know who Vanessa y-you're referring to, but some crazy *cough* shadow lady made two iron giants kidnapped me and locked me in here. I-I think I've been in here for a couple hours, b-but I assure you I NEVER committed treason against the Queen."

So Vanessa locked her up and froze her too? That sounded like something the crazy old coot would do after all. "Don't worry! Im going to get you out like everyone else!"

Poppy felt her face smile for the first time in hours since she got there. "T-Thank you! B-But hurry! Im not sure when the guards or that shadow lady's going to come back!"

Hattie looked up and around at the old locks and chains all keeping it together. Ok. She didn't have the key and didn't know where it was, probably only Vanessa knew and she wasn't about to go asking the crazy lady for a key, and she probably wasn't physically strong enough to pull them from the door even if they were old and rusty. Snatcher was definitely no use, he'd just flop over like a helpless teddy bear.......But there was one way she could think of.

"Can you walk?"

Poppy blinked at the question. "What?"

"Can you walk? You need to back off the door!"

"Why?"

"Because Im going to blast it open."

Blast it?! Did this child have dynamite?! Or a canon?! Or did she know some magic? Either way she was not about to get caught in the crossfires of this, so willing her sore and numb body, she dragged herself away from the door to the opposite wall. Her lower half felt like a bowling ball. it hurt. It was like pins and needles on steroids and her legs were really sore and she barely got out of the way before a loud BOOM! was set off behind her that knocked her down face first onto the floor and on instinct her hands slammed down on her head to protect her from the flying splinters of wood and metal that shot out into the room. The blast seemed to have shaken the entire third floor and their was probably no doubt anyone in the entire manor could've heard the blast. Hattie stared at the remains of the doors that remained on the hinges and hummed. Maybe she should've tried picking the lock first just oh well. She just hoped that blast didn't wake up ms goldie crazy locks downstairs. Still brandishing the umbrella, she crept forward towards the door and peeked inside the room once she got close enough hearing movement inside. Inside was a.....woman? A lady with long braided red hair and a face of matching freckles was sitting on her knees staring back at the little girl. Her hands in a position that made Hattie think she must've been dusting debris from the blast off of her and the two stared at each other for a moment before Hattie finally spoke.

"Who are you?"

Poppy stared at her for a moment before blinking and replying. "I could ask you the same thing. .....But to answer your question. My name is Poppy. Poppy Rose Bloomington. What's yours, little girl?"

She blinked. "Hattie." She finally lowered her umbrella a little bit and watched as Poppy struggled to her feet leaning against the wall. She certainly didn't look very threatening, and she didn't get any dangerous vibes off her. Her vibes were more like DJ Grooves only less fun. So she decided to repeat her question to her once she saw Poppy's wobbling legs. "Can you walk?"

Poppy nodded leaning against the wall, her legs felt heavy and like jello, but she HAD to get outta there. "I have no choice! We have to get the peck outta here before someone comes and does something worse than lock us inside a room." She gave another look around at the mess. "....But it looks like you can take care of yourself fine, Little witch."

Hattie smiled. "Im not a witch. I just used the magic badge thingy on my umbrella." She swayed her umbrella and followed as Poppy made her way towards the door. "But maybe I am. That could be why Snatcher used to call me a little witch. Can you be a space travelling witch?"

Poppy barely paid attention to the little girl but absolutely froze at the sight of the horrifying ruined third floor walls, and the darkness covering them all. ........This wasn- Lightning struck outside the windows and lit up the whole third floor for a minute, revealing the faded papers and words painted all over them. Wha-...What HAPPENED HEAR!? It didn't look like this when she was dragged up here a couple hours ago. There was still snow and the chilly freeze she surely remembered, but the horror tale was new.

"W-What happened here?"

Hattie bounded up next to her confused. "What are you talking about? It's always been this creepy. At least that's what Snatcher told me. He used to steal things and scare Uncle Moon with them." She gave the still frozen older lady a look over.....Did she..look familiar somehow? Nah. But that begs the question. What was she going to do now that she found her? Snatcher already told one of his helpers to take everyone to his tree house, and she didn't know any long ways around. Plus judging by Poppy's current state, she didn't think she'd be able to jump over the bridge. She'd just fall into the ravene. ........Well, it seemed like there was only one way to quickly get her out safely before she put the time piece back together was to take her back to her ship, at least until she cleaned up Snatcher's mess. Then she'll take her to Mafia town or something. Hattie grabbed the woman's hand, who flinched at her touch and started pulling her along down the hallway, but stopped when she felt Poppy stumble and almost fall over. "...Are you ok?"

Poppy Nodded. "Uh..Yeah. B-But maybe don't move so fast ok?"

Hattie nodded and eagerly began pulling her along down the wall and again Poppy began to glance around in horror around her. ....It surely wasn't this dark when she was first taken up here. How could so much change have happened within just a few hours of her knocking herself out ramming into the door? Things only got worse when the child slowly lead her down the stairs towards the second floor. Poppy vaugly remembering it as she was brought up and thrown in there, but she didn't expect there to be so many claw marks lining the walls, it was much better looking than the third floor for sure and at least with this floor there was candles lit so she could see but that still didn't calm her nerves. Who made these marks? The crazy shadow lady or something else? The creaking of their footsteps echoing throughout the halls, she hoped no one heard them-

"KIDDO!! YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXPLAINATION FOR WHATEVER I HEARD UPSTAIRS, YOUNG LADY!!" "PECK IT, SNATCHER!! SHUT UP WILL YOU!?" "HEY!! IM NOT THE ONE WHO MADE AN EXPLOSION GO OFF!!" "WELL IF VANESSA ISNT AWAKE SHE IS NOW!!"

The loud voices made Poppy jump and release herself from the child's grip as she snapped her head wide eyed towards the direction of the voices she had just heard. One sorta distorted and raspy and the other like a proper city gentlemen yelling. The child however just smiled and began bounding her way over to an open door near the front of the hallway and stuck her head in. When Hattie looked inside she saw the two ghosts stuck together already looking in her direction, Snatcher making them scowl at her. She noticed the two had somehow taken the red blanket off the bed and threw it over their shoulders while she was gone. Messing up the bed but at least having something to keep them warm in the meantime. The book opened to page '23'. Snatcher was always a fast reader.

"Hi! Yeah, it was me."

"What the absolute PECK were you doing?! Trying to set the building to the ground?!," Snatcher demanded of her. Both Moonboy and himself had noticed the loud BAM noise from somewhere above them. It sounded like a cannon was shot through the side of the building above them shaking the whole house and if it weren't for their current state, Snatcher would've immediately ran up there and seen what had happened for himself, but unfortunately he couldn't without falling flat on their face and had to wait for approaching footsteps to know she was alright. But now she might be in trouble by the ghost. "Are you TRYING to wake the crazy pecker up?! I'd rather NOT have any crazy women screaming their head off about 'her prince' until Im back to normal!...What the PECK even happened?!"

"I found a lady!"

He rose a brow. "You found a what?"

Hattie jabbed a thumb behind her at the still frozen and confused Poppy. "I found a lady locked in that room upstairs. The one with all those scary locks, she's wearing a funny apron."

Snatcher was silent for a moment processing what he had just heard. A woman was inside the locked room upstairs? Who? Moonjumper thought of a possible solution really quick. "An apron you say?" Hattie nodded. "Hm. Sounds like one of the old cleaning maids." "Heh. Vanessa would be crazy enough to lock away a cleaning lady in a room with a ton of locks. But what was that noise?"

The child held up her umbrella. "The locks wouldn't unlock. So I blasted it to bits!"

"You blasted down doors to free a cleaning lady?"

''Hey! I said everyone gets to be free! And It's not like Vanessa can sue me. She's more empty headed than those no-headed statues outside."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" That got a round of laughter from Snatcher that made Poppy flinch outside. From her spot she couldn't see anything inside the room. Not that she wanted too, but now they were smiling. "That's the truest thing you've ever said, Kid!"

"Uh huh! Also, Ill be right back! I gotta take her to my ship!"

"What? You're leaving me again?!" "Us you creton. But you're leaving after just coming back?"

"Im just gonna take her to my ship so she's not turned back into another human-ice statue. And I won't really go back myself." She waved her umbrella at them. "Ill just use this to take her back outside, and come right back! Promise."

They stared at her for a moment, before she heard Snatcher grumble and turn back around down to their book. "Make. It. VERY. QUICK!! Ok? We can't just keep delaying this, Kid. I want OUT of this thing as soon as possible!! And that means NOW!!"

"It won't take long! Promise." She turned back away from the door smiling and ran back up to Poppy. The woman blinked and looked down at the little girl that grabbed her hand and started tugging her along again. "Come on! Don't step on any glass on the floor. I still have to fix it!"

Poppy didn't say anything but she allowed herself to still be dragged away by the child. Hattie lead her around the glass pieces and down to the next flight of stairs waiting to take them to the first floor, footsteps echoing around them. Poppy blinked and couldn't help but look over to the open door as they passed, Snatcher had already turned back to the book with a sour expression and didn't see who Hattie was dragging past the door, though Poppy had see someone wrapped in a blanket and a bit of brown hair sticking out of the blanket. Blinking she turned back to the small child still dragging her away and soon they decended down the second flight of stairs.

"Who w-was that exactly?"

"Oh! That's Snatcher. He's my dad. Don't worry about him being scary, he's just a big soon-da-rey." She giggled a little bit confusing the woman a little more. She had no idea what a soon-da-rey was.

The first floor wasn't as better from the first. Still cold. Still spooky looking. Still had random claw marks everywhere and she was still looking around in fright. Was that shadow monster going to pop out any moment? Where were the guards? In fact, where was everyone? She hadn't seen a single servant, guard, or even the Queen since she was broken out. Oh she hoped they were ok, she'd hate to know what would've happened if worse case scenario. And on that note of questions, who was this child? How did she and her father get in without getting hurt? Was she a little witch? She sure seemed like it with the blast she just performed. And where was she taking her? Outside hopefully, she'd rather be outside than inside this creepy prison. She glanced down as they passed by the painting Snatcher smashed and winced, Poppy did NOT want to stick around long enough for whoever did all this to come out. SO she rather take her chances with a little witch than a crazy shadow ghost. Hattie didn't stop even as she lead Poppy past the doors which made her turn in their direction and point.

"Where are we going? The front doors are right over there."

"I know but they're blocked up by this use snow pile and there's this headless statues that are REALLY creepy and they try to grab you. And I don't think Snatcher would like it if I blasted another door. We have to go this way!" She pointed ahead of them to yet ANOTHER flight of stairs that looked like it lead into the basement.

It gave Poppy an off feeling but she still didn't stop the child from pulling her towards it with their footsteps echoing behind them until they decended into the darkness of the stairs. It was overwhelming dark for a moment, before there was a splash and her whole foot suddenly felt wet and cold. One or two candles along the wall lit up the broken down walls and to Poppy's shock, there was water EVERYWHERE on the ground, must've been at least five or six inches deep because as she still allowed her shocked self to be lead through. Her Shoes and ankles getting absolutely cold and soaked, she hoped she wouldn't get sick from the cold. The cold stung herself and she looked around, their watery footsteps echoing around the home and she shivered at a pair of chains lightly clacking against the walls from the breeze coming from yet ANOTHER pair of stairs up ahead and they could see light at the end of the tunnel. As Poppy was lead up the stairs she blinked back away from the sudden cold that blasted her face and crept through her simple dress. As they reached the top of that stairway, blinding white caused her to blink and reach her hands up away from Hattie's grip to rub at her eyes. The storm and cold winds were still blowing, and as Hattie looked around she hummed. No foot prints left by the others, so she had no idea where they went and she'd have to stick to the original 'take lady to my ship' plan, luckily the dome's top let in the moonlight and a surefire way to let them get there. She'd get back by having Snatcher teleport her or using the time piece to teleport her back there, right now she had to hurry and get back to fix said time piece.

"This way quick!" Poppy stumbled as the child regrabbed her hand and pulled her forward almost making her fall flat on her face into the snow. The cold winds made their hair blow around with the snowflakes and the cold felt worse, especially on her wet feet and legs as they trudged through the snow at the insistence of the child until they were a couple yards away from one of the icy dome walls and far from the back of the manor. Hattie seemed pleased as she turned around and smiled at Poppy. Taking the hand she was holding and forcing the umbrella she was holding into it.Poppy blinked confused at the little girl making her hold the umbrella as she lifted it up to inspect it....before looking back to her.

"Sugarcube, I don't think this little thing is gonna be enough shelter from the wind."

"It's not for the snow! It's to take you to my ship! Here" She reached up and grabbed the umbrella, fiddling with something Poppy couldn't see because of the wind whipping her hand and snowflakes around herself before she released the umbrella again. "There! Now hold on tight and point it at the moon."

"Why?"

"Please just do it!"

Poppy sighed and looked up towards the moon through the snow and wind. Well, if this little girl really was a witch and trying to help her, maybe this was some kind of teleporting spell? If so she wasn't complaining about escaping the cold, so holding up a shivering arm, she pointed the umbrella up towards the mo- In a flash of blue-white light, Poppy vanished. In her place, a beam of that light shot up towards the sky and Hattie nodded. The umbrella successfully connected with one of the telescopes and she would be safe abourd her ship while she fixed this mess, which is what she seemed to do best around here anyways. Quickly turning back around, she sprinted back towards the manor. She had fixing to do. Poppy meanwhile was experiencing a whole new term to sea sickness, if she was really being teleported to a ship that is. The light and speed made her slam her eyes shut and her stomach sick. She felt like her whole body was being contricted into a thing twig and her knuckles turned white from gripping the handle so hard. She wished this would STOP- And it did. With a giant thud sound she was sent crashlanding to the carpeted floor of a child's bedroom where Bow was reading, worriedly waiting for her friend to come back but jumped and dropped the book at the sudden sight of a red headed lady suddenly crashlanding in their bedroom. The landy tumbled head over feet a few times before landing face first into the mountain of pillows the umbrella landing beside her feet. A few pillows were scattered with her collison and after a couple moments of silence......The woman groaned and weakly reached over to flip her onto her back. .....OK!! That was the LAST and ONLY time she was going to let herself be teleported by a little witch. Still laying on her back she slowly blinked her eyes open and was met with the face of another child with black curly hair. The two stared at each other for a moment before Bow spoke.

"Are you ok?...Who are you?"

[tommysparker]

Black & White: Chapter 1

heyyyy sorry this is a little late, had to make some last minute editd but I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: like one no-no word, incorrect representation of religion, bad hindi (i used google translate bc I dont really know hindi so Im sorry if i did it wrong blame google)

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                                                                                                            “Forever?” 

                                                                                                             “Forever.” 

                                                                                                           “Promise?” 

                                                                                                      “... I  promise.”

Tom gasped as he stirred awake. What the hell happened?

He could still feel the burn on his wings but didn’t have the energy to lift his head and check. The dull ache in his head was an unfamiliar feeling, for it wasn’t from pain but something he knew not how to describe. 

His vision came slow, but he could make out a couple of things through the mess of blurry colours. 

The walls were stone, with scriptures in an unknown language carved along the edges. There were more engravings, almost like pictures. There was one image that stood out, however, the one that stared right back at him. 

The illustration was of a man, but no man that Tom had ever seen in his life. This man was painted blue, with four arms, and sat on top of what appears to be a bull. He held something that resembled a whip in one hand, and a weapon of some sort in another. What in God’s name is that thing…?

“His name is Yama.” 

Tom jumped at the sound of another voice in the room, his eyes scanned frantically for the source, but finding no one.  

“He is the God of Death and Justice,” the voice continued. It was familiar, he’s heard it before. 

God of Death and Justice…? How can that be? He thought to himself, or maybe out loud because the voice responded. 

“Things are different here, Angel. Think about it, the entity that deals with all the souls infected by bad karma serves justice by forcing them to spend eternity down here. Get it?” 

His head continued swinging back and forth, desperate to locate the place the mysterious wind was whispering in his ears, while also processing what this voice was telling him. Perhaps, the Justice in the name is justified, but one thing still confused him. “There is only one God?” 

“For you, maybe. But for many of us, we have many, thousands even. It gives me a headache just thinking about it.” 

Tom felt a hot breath against his neck and flinched, whipping around to find nothing but a blank wall. He turned his head again, only to be shoved back by a gust of dust. His arms flew across his face to protect his eyes, and once the wind had died down he slowly removed them, but soon regretted the decision after seeing what stood in front of him. 

“What’s with the face, pretty boy? You aren’t happy to see me?” She mock-pouted, wings stretching as she stood tall at the foot of the bed. “C’mon, the least you can do is thank me for allowing you to sleep in my bed, as opposed to the rocks we have in the dungeons.” 

Looking around him, only now realizing exactly where he was. The lit candle holders that lined that were installed strategically, the closet wardrobe that sat on the side of the room, tables and chairs placed accordingly, but most importantly the blood-red mattress he sat upon, a silk canopy above him, the pillars that seemed to be carved out of cold. 

The angel tried to scramble away but winced when he moved to use his wings. He carefully spread them out, wrapping his wounded feathers around his front. The marks the rope had left were indented by a red line of irritation. A small whimper escaped his throat, which didn’t go unnoticed by the Queen, who stood and watched the whole moment. 

All she could see was red, those fucking idiots! 

Now was not the time to get mad, not in front of him at least. She would certainly be paying a visit to a certain bone-head or two. “You’re hurt.” 

Tom looked up from his burn and towards her face-- avoiding eye-contact of course. Instead of the usual stone-cold expression he had seen during their last encounter, he was met with a look of sympathy...and perhaps worry? 

“Allow me,” she reached forward, stopping short when the angel flinched back. “I’ll make it better, just trust me.” 

The divine-being studied the she-devil for a moment, making the reluctant decision to let her do whatever it is she wishes to. He doesn’t know why, but a small voice was telling him it was going to be okay, the same voice that told him to ask if she was alright the first time. 

The Rani waved her hand over the wound, a small black glow emitting from her palm, before disappearing, along with any trace of the marks. “There, good as new.” 

His eyes widening, Tom watched as the magic healed his pain. He opened his mouth to thank her when he realized what kind of magic had been inflicted upon him. Dark magic.

“It’s nothing that will cost your holiness, just a very simple healing spell any person who possesses mystic abilities would have learned.” 

Silence fell between the two mythical creatures, one pondered his thoughts, the other studied the white figure with intensity. 

“What do you want from me?” The angel finally asked. It was straight to the point, the sooner he could get back to heaven and jump into a bath of Holy Water the better. 

“You are very special, my little Angel. I just don’t know why...yet. So ‘till I do, you are staying here-- close your mouth I’m not finished speaking. Good. As I was saying, you’ll be staying here with me. Now you can either stay willingly, or you can resist and have your wings fed to my demons. The choice is yours.” 

There were a lot of things to process. Tom would rather keep his wings attached, and he could always try to escape at night. With his wing fixed, how hard could it be? Sure, he may not have had magic like some other angels but he had confidence. All you have to do is retrace your steps back to the gate...easy right? 

However, something about her made him almost want to stay. Her authoritative persona was no-doubt appealing, and the way she called him her Angel sparked a feeling he has never experienced before. 

She stood patiently, awaiting his answer although she had a pretty good idea what it would be. Reading minds comes in handy with these types of situations. 

“O-okay… I’ll stay.” After weighing out the pros and cons, he decided the best thing he could do was stay for now, and either pray the Angels will send someone to rescue him or he could escape on his own. 

“Wonderful,” She grinned, canines bared. Her teeth were as sharp as a wolf’s, with fangs like a vampire.  

Tom tried to avoid looking into her eyes, but he could see the small glow emitting from the area. Is that normal? 

A quiet knock caused both heads to snap towards the entrance. A frail body with a bull’s head stood, head slightly bowed and hands folded in front of their chest. 

“M-Maharani, हम अभी भी प्रतीक्षा कर रहे हैं…” The man spoke, a hint of fear in his voice as he addressed what Tom assumed was the woman in front of him, though he had no idea what was being said. 

The Queen nodded once, “हम जल्द ही आएँगे.” She turned towards the angel, smiling again but this time it was different. There was no wolfish grin, instead, she wore a soft beam that highlighted her cheekbones. 

“So, you hungry?”

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हम अभी भी प्रतीक्षा कर रहे हैं  = “We are still waiting” 

हम जल्द ही आएँगे = “We will come soon”

Feedback is always welcome! 

B&W Taglist:  @rebekkah4766 @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @averyfosterthoughts @parkerpeter24 @angel-spidey @naztheapprentice 

All Taglist: @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​

[bleufrost]

Crawl Home to Her || A Ben Hanscom Series

Chapter Four: Not a Stranger

a/n: aaand we're back! let's see if I can get y'all back into this like im getting myself back into writing it (:

thank you all for being patient with me, if youre still here reading I love you so much.

masterlist

summary

rating: m for graphic depictions of violence, gore, and adult themes

The few feet between Ali and Ben feel like miles as her feet push her forward. Ali was refusing to bother with words, knowing exactly who this man was and how desperately she had waited for him all these years. His arms part instinctively, holding her to his chest as if it were the safest place in the universe and he was determined to protect her. Although years were spent apart, the feeling of being strangers was lost on both Ali and Ben; instead being replaced by the knowledge that they had not only grown up together, but had also been a saving grace for each other. 

Ali’s breathing becomes unsteady as she feels Ben’s hand slide up to her neck. She isn’t afraid of him by any means, but the realization that somewhere in her life she forgot about him makes her uneasy; guilty in more ways than one. Tears spring to her eyes and a panic she has not felt since childhood comes upon her suddenly, causing Ben to pull back and look her over quickly in search of the cause of her distress. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? I know I look different, but I swear I’m not a stranger.” Ben laughs nervously, trying to lighten the mood while also allowing her a moment to breathe. His hands never leave her, part of him unwilling in the event that she might slip away from him once more. 

“I tried so hard for so long to remember you, but I never could. Ben, I forgot about you and I know that sounds awful but I swear I never meant to. You were always there, right at the edge of my mind, but I could never reach you. I’m so sorry.” Her voice shakes as she speaks and Ben has the overpowering need to hold her again and reassure her that everything was perfectly okay. So, that’s exactly what he does.

His thumbs brush across her cheeks, wiping away the tears that slipped past her eyes. “It’s not your fault, Ali. I’m sure Mike will explain everything, but from what I heard you aren’t the only one who’s had some missing pieces from their memory. It’s okay, we can catch up and everything will feel like we never spent a second apart.” Her breathing is still heavy, but a small smile finds its way upon her lips. He reciprocates and there is nothing he wants more than to kiss her in that moment, but he knows that he can't. She just admitted that she had forgotten everything for the longest time, throwing something like that on her now when she was just starting to get her life back was unfair and selfish. He had waited years, a little longer would be no problem at all.

“You ready to go in?” His voice was calm and patient, letting her know that she was allowed to take as much time as she needs. She was ready now though, something deep within her telling her that she could do anything now that the piece she was missing had been found. The pair begin to walk closer to the entrance, taking comfort in the close proximity of their bodies. 

Standing right in front of the door was someone that they both had missed severely; even if Ali just now was remembering that she did. Ben reaches down, giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand and smiling toward the girl that had been his first official crush. “Is there a password or something?” Ali laughs beside him, Ben really was proving himself to be the master of throwing back phrases at people. It just further solidified what Ali already knew: they all meant something extraordinary to each other. 

Recognition does not dawn on Beverly Marsh’s face as quickly as it did Ali’s. She turns and stares for a moment. “I’m sorry?” The wrapper crinkles in Ali’s hand as she tears it off and slowly pops the candy into her mouth. Beverly watches her and slowly, her face begins to change with a sense of recollection. 

“New Kid?” His voice is hopeful as he says the nickname aloud for the first time in forever. The redhead’s eyes scan over Ali and Ben a little longer as the gears work in her head. “Ali? Ben?” Ali smiles excitedly and Ben lets out a relieved puff of air. While she nods her head, smile still beaming back at Beverly, Ben lifts his arm gently in an attempt to welcome Beverly into a hug. Bev comes forward, wrapping her arms around the both of them quickly and laughing. 

“Oh my god!” The three stand there for a while, hugging in a way that feels familiar to each of them. Ali never enjoyed being touched by other people, she shied away from hugs and general contact because it always felt so wrong to her. This though, felt right. She felt comfortable for the first time in as far back as her still-hazy memory could go. 

“it's been so long.” When Ben says this, it sounds less like a sad regret and more like a happy reassurance. It had been so long, but the wait was over at last. 

"You guys look great!" Seperating, the trio find the source of the voice in the form of who could only be Richie Tozier. He looks down at himself and scoffs. “What the fuck happened to me?” 

Once more, Ali finds herself closing the distance between herself and her old friend. Images flash before her eyes, showing her of a time when her and Richie would get into arguments, sometimes heated, that would always end in rolling eyes and smiles. He had kept her on her toes as a kid, but sometimes things like that only prove to strengthen the bond you have with someone. 

Part of Ali was expecting to see someone else walk up with Richie; she doesn’t know why but the distinct recollection of his lovestruck face brings itself to the forefront of her mind and she is almost disappointed to find him alone. 

“Hey Trashmouth!” They all laugh while Ali and Richie hug. The nickname definitely came easy to remember. “Are you fucking serious? I escape this shit for years just to come back and immediately get fucking ridiculed. That’s unreal, Ugly Duckling.” Ali pulls back from the hug and stares at him with shock on her face. Now that was a name she hadn’t heard in forever. 

Ben almost intervenes, afraid that maybe Ali won’t receive the banter as such. It takes a moment, but the shock slowly slides into amusement. She shoves his shoulder and hugs him again; she really had missed them all.

The rest of them greet each other with warm smiles, Beverly and Ben also fall victim to Richie’s incessant need to say whatever’s on his mind, and soon it is time to go in. 

With shaky hands, Ali follows the group to the entrance of the brightly lit restaurant. She falls behind a bit, trying to hide behind the rest of them as Richie continues to lighten the mood with his voice. It takes only a second for Ben to turn and notice how quiet she has gotten, and in that same second he halts his walking, waits for her to catch up, and falls into step alongside her. 

Their shoulders bump as they walk and Ali finds the feeling of warmth radiating from his open palm to be immensely more inviting than the illuminated building. His knuckles graze hers gently, as though he is calling her toward him in a way. She takes the invitation as soon as he is willing to give it, slowly sliding her hand into his larger one.

Ben doesn’t look down when he feels her soft hand find his own. He simply takes it and wraps his fingers in hers, driving away the cold of her palm with the comforting heat of his body. The nervous trembling doesn’t stop, but it does subside and that is more than Ben could ever ask for. 

Finally looking down, Ben catches the twinkling lights reflecting in Ali’s eyes. Smiling felt so foreign to him until today, and he feels his eyes come alight for what very well may be the thousandth time since arriving. Her own mouth curves up into the smallest of smiles as she notices him staring, and Ben can’t help but think it is the most beautiful sight he has ever seen.

Tags (ive been gone a while so i understand if youd like to be taken off, just message me): @stanley-barbs​ @bvrningdesires​ @floralpiper​ @thesmittenkitkat​ @daisysinadarkmedow​ @auggusst​ @isabellathedreamer​ @makbubblefandom​ @1988-fiend​ @alexther11​ @goldenmoonbeam​

let me know if you want to be added to the list!

a/n: as always, i greatly appreciate every read, like, reblog, and comment so much! feedback is always happily welcome and i hope you guys liked this chapter.

this is a side blog so i cant respond to comments (although i love to read them!!) but if yall ever wanna talk just shoot me an ask or message me! I love talking to yall <3

coming up...this meeting of the losers club has officially begun.

[strawbwrry]

know it all ❥ h.ys

word count：4.k

warnings：slight swearing, time traveling, soulmates, and a few tears

↳ happy yunseong day!

now this is in no way a secret to anyone, but i do adore yunseong, and i wanted to do something special for 100 followers (currently 132, love you guys :D) and something special for yunseongs birthday, so this is where it went! now before anything i’d really like to say i truly do hope for the best for him, his future looks bright and i am eagerly awaiting for whatever happens in his career and his life, and will 100000% support him in all his endeavors. i hope he is having a good birthday, and just would like so say i really appreciate him. also hey woolim let us see him and the rest of the boys we miss them!!! to end my small rant (cause trust me i could go on for ages, and as the great @choi-yeonjunz said to me the first day we talked “im head over heels for yunseong) all i have to say is, happy birthday yunseong ♡

song rec：dayfly ❥ dean

❥❥❥❥

know it all

hwang yunseong

❥❥❥❥

I had seen him before, but he was new here. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself of that, I knew very well I had seen him before. Something about him didn’t feel normal.

How did I know him? I wasn’t so sure.

❥❥❥❥

Yunseong was attractive, seemed nice, and was on the quiet side. You’d always find him near his friends. But something was, off. I’d talked to him just once, and it was an apology after running into him and spilling some of my water on his shirt. In total honesty, before I had realized I had spoken to him, our conversation had ended.

Now usually I would’ve brushed off this unsettling feeling and continued on with my life. No matter how hard I tried to move past it, desperately tried to ignore it, I was drawn to him. When I’d see him enter the coffee shop I couldn’t help but stare. I’m sure he’d caught me more than a few times, but I couldn’t care less.

I couldn’t help it.

The day everything would change was, to be excruciatingly honest, the most mundane of them all. I got dressed, finished my classes for the day, and headed off to work. I checked in, and began on my daily tasks. As I began to clean the tables right before we closed up, I realized one thing : Yunseong hadn’t come in today. For the past few months every single day, and at the exact same time, down to the second, Yunseong walked in and ordered a drink.

He never missed a day.

My co-worker walked up to me and handed me a cookie and pointed at the table and we sat. Serim took a bite from her cookie before giving me a wide grin. “Did the boy you like not come in today?” I rolled my eyes and groaned as I opened up the packaging, “Oh shut up! I do not like him Serim.” She laughed and patted my arm, “Whatever you say Y/N.” A chill ran up my spine as a loud screech was heard outside. My eyes bolted to Serim before I tried to look out of the large window.

“Y/N, what was that?” I peered through the window all I saw was darkness. I vaguely saw dark figures, one moved continuously till I felt it look in my direction. I couldn’t see was looked back at me, but it’s eyes stung into my chest. Everything about its gaze hurt. Whatever was staring at me wasn’t human, or in the very least, wasn’t fully human. All of a sudden there was a knock on the door, when I turned to look at the person there, it was Yunseong.

His face remained stoic and calm as always, his hair tousled, but nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t till I noticed a figure behind him, that I felt my eyes widen, it was a tall man with seemingly no distinct features what so ever, his large hand landed onto Yunseong’s right shoulder. His lips quirked up into a lopsided grin, his eyes looked straight into mine, as he turned around in an instant, I had fallen to the floor. My vision went black for just a second, my breathing became erratic, and when I looked back there stood Yunseong alone. I turned around trying to find Serim to no avail. “Serim!” My shaky voice yelled out, as my arms pulled my body away from the door slowly. My video on blurred, and I felt a throat getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“Serim?” I felt my eyes began to sting. I pulled myself up and felt a sudden pain in my side, which dropped me right back to the floor.

I heard knocks once again coming from the door, my head instantly looked up to find Yunseong there, but his demeanor had drastically shifted. His once stoic face had turned into one of anxiousness and his hand pounded against the door violently, he looked terrified. He point behind me and as I turned around I came face to face, with who I could only describe as the tallest person to ever exist. I quickly scrambled up and ran to the door, my hands fumbled clumsily until it was open, I quickly shut the door behind me and watched as the man disappeared once again. I looked into Yunseong’s eyes to find a certain sense of relief, but deep behind that was something else. A secret, a fear, that I knew was there.

“It didn’t happen.” My face clearly contorted in confusion. What did he mean it didn’t happen? I struggled to regain my breath and vision as I stood across from him. My chest heaved tiredly.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

As my breath began to settle I looked up at him, “What do you mean ‘it’ didn’t happen?”

He let out a deep sigh, then proceeded to look around him. He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand before turning back to make eye contact with me. His eyes boring into mine which only made me more nervous.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this, but you were supposed to be dead 5 minutes ago.”

❥❥❥❥

That was a rough night. Yunseong and I had agreed to meet at the park the next day to talk, I really wasn’t ready for what I was about to learn, what I was about to see, or what I was about to feel.

❥❥❥❥

We sat besides each other awkwardly. To anyone else it would’ve looked like the most awkward first date to ever have taken place. What was really happening though, was something no one would really understand. Hell if I understood what was going on.

My eyes wandered to him before I nervously breathed in and sighed. “What did you mean when you said I was going to die last night, and who were those people with you?”

He seemed taken aback at the mention of people. “You could see them?”

“Was I not supposed to be able to see them?” He smiled timidly before straightening his face out and looking back at me. “Y/N you’re something special.”

I stayed silent. How should I respond to that? Should ask why? I wasn’t sure.

I stayed sat beside him quietly, my hands feeling as if they were going to sweat, but to be frank I wasn’t sure if they would. He sighed heavily, wiping his hands over his knees and laughing quietly. I turned to face him, quite honestly startled by his sudden laugh. It was cute, but I was confused. I laughed softly too, I had just realized I had flinched at the sound of his sudden laugh. An array of giggles escaped us before we began to quiet down.

“I’m not sure where to start, is there anything you want to know?” I sucked in a breath of air and lightly played around with my fingers wondering where to start as well. “Is there anything significant you think I should know?”

He purses his lips tightly, racking his head for a little bit. “Lee Sujin, your grandma.”

“What about my grandma?” My jaw clenched tightly, I’m wasn’t so sure if I wanted to know this. “Your grandma had a younger brother right?” I nodded quietly, my head turning to his direction as I did so. “Was his name Lee Eunsang?”

I swallowed dryly, and nodded my head nervously, “That was his name. My grandma used to talk about him all the time. But he died in 1969.” He nodded, “He wasn’t supposed to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody has a certain time at which they’re supposed to die. The vast majority of people die the date and time they’re supposed to, but others die too soon, or too completely miss their time and seemingly live forever.” I squinted my eyes trying to process the information. I bit my lips back lightly, nodded very gently at his words, trying my hardest to understand them,

“So he died too early?”

He nodded, “My job is to correct each early or missed death in multiple universes, your great uncle just happens to be next on my list.”

“Can I go with you?” I pursed my lips, anxiously waiting for a response.

“Why do you want to go Y/N?” His head cocked to the side curiously, a little bit of a smile popping onto his face.

“I’d love to meet him, plus I’d love to see if you’re lying or not.” A small grin fully etched itself onto his face at my words, his hand outstretching itself till it was right by mine. He looked forward, his eyes closing for a few seconds, before he opened them again. They looked different now. A certain new quality had appeared within them. It felt comforting, almost even familiar in an odd sense.

“Y/N, take my hand and close your eyes. No matter what keep them closed, until I tell you to open them.“

My heart began to thump erratically, I felt a certain sense of nervousness overcome me in totality. I swallowed nervously but asked one final question, “What happens if I open my eyes?”

He pursed his lips for just a second, and then let out a shaky breath, “Something bad would happen. Something very bad.”

His hand began shaking slightly, his fingers gently curling inwards, “Do you still want to go?”

I nodded softly, then lifted my hand to place it in his. His grip on my hand tightened just a bit before loosening once again, “Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes, the bright sun, green trees, blue sky, and the fountain that formerly resided in my field of vision now gone. His once regular quiet breathing became heavier, and sounded more labored. The grip of his hand adjusted, gently locking his fingers with mine, as his grip tightened, in an instant I could no longer saw any hint of light.

Darkness, a totally unexplainable lack of light, it was odd in every way possible. Yet it was familiar, I’d felt this before, I was sure of it in every way possible. A sudden image flashed before me, it was a picture of me with someone, someone who couldn’t be seen, was blurred out, seemingly wasn’t supposed to be there in that picture with me.

It stayed there motionless, until it began moving. The person next to me began to poke my cheek, even pinching it later on. As the video began fading from my sight I saw lips land onto my forehead.

I felt my heart flutter as I watched intently. I could feel the kiss being gently pressed to my forehead, and where my cheek had been gently poked and pinched. It was gentle and soft, but still prompted a shy smile on my face. I didn’t know who the person was, but deep down I could feel an unknown fondness for them, I couldn’t help it. As the video faded from my view I belt my heart ache at the sudden disappearance of the person in the video.

My chest tightened as I felt Yunseong squeeze my hand, his small pinky began adjusting slightly. “Almost.” I felt a sudden wave of reassurance wash over me at his voice, I’d never felt this way. I’d never felt so utterly comfortable with someone.

But I didn’t know him.

I had known about his existence for just a few months, talked to him for much less than two hours, but felt the strongest sense of infatuation with him. The strongest feeling of attachment. The darkness began to fade, and a sudden light appeared, “Y/N you can open your eyes now.”

When my eyelids parted, instantly I knew, we weren’t in 2019 anymore.

It was the summer of 1969.

❥❥❥❥

Everything was so different. The cars. The people. The clothing.

“Yunseong, holy crap is that my grandma?” My eyes widened at the sight of a certain teenager, my age, walking hand in hand with a male. “Wait no way, that’s my grandpa!” I quickly turned around, crouching down, and raising up to my hands to my eye sockets covering my eyes.

He chuckled, his hand reaching out to help me stand up again, “Bingo.” I placed my hand onto his and let him pull me up. His head turned away, as my eyes were drawn to his side profile, I unknowingly smiled, my heart felt content, here holding his hand.

For once everything felt right.

❥❥❥❥

Everything changes with perspective

What’s going on in Yunseong’s mind?

❥❥❥❥

Her eyes widened significantly and she turned to me for just a second, “Yunseong, holy crap is that my grandma?” Her hand landed over her mouth in shock and her eyes scanned over the teenager stood not far from us.

“Wait no way, that’s my grandpa!” I chuckled softly, she crouched to the floor and covered her eyes with her hands trying to process the sight just a few feet away. When she turned to look back at me my hand instinctively shot out to help her up, “Bingo.”

He hand landed onto mine and for the few second it was there I felt complete.

She’d never be mine, but that wouldn’t stop me from coming back to her.

I turned away, my heart heavy, but feeling content. “Y/N, your great uncle should be in the park over there. Come on, let’s go.”

The walk was quiet, not a single word uttered between the both of us. The day was nice, the sky clear and blue, a gentle wind blowing past us, the sun beaming warming our skin. Her hand grabbed my wrist stopping us both. Her head quickly turned to look back at me, “Yunseong, is that him?” I smiled softly at her excitement and nodded softly, “Hey Eunsang! Is that the girlfriend you’ve been telling me about?”

He blushed and rolled his eyes, “Hyung! You’re embarrassing me!” I laughed before turning to look down at Y/N, her eyes wide and face reading shock. My hand intertwined with hers, before I looked back up, “Yunseong hyung, who is she? Is that your girlfriend?” Y/N’s face went red, her hand tightened around mine, but before I said anything,

“My name is Y/N, and yes.”

My face heated up slightly, as I felt her hand tighten around mine. Eunsang’s girlfriend smiled widely, “Care to join us for a bit?”

I turned to look at her and she smiled softly, her eyes wandering into mine, boring holes into my soul as she hopefully stared at me. “We’d love too!”

❥❥❥❥

"How did you like being with them?” Her smile was wide, and hands remained warm, she looked so happy. So genuinely excited, I couldn’t help to smile back at her. “I understand what my grandma meant when she talked about him.”

“What did she say about him?” We stopped in front of a gorgeous rose bush. She let go of my hand, and faced me in front of the rose bush, her eyelashes fluttered prettily, her eyes reading me in a way I couldn’t pinpoint. “Mischievous personified. She told how much he enjoyed seeing others happy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better descriptive of someone.” Her head dropped down, a fond smile growing onto her face, “She would’ve loved to see him one last time before she passed.”

Without a thought my hand lifted to brush her hair away from her face, my eyes drawn naturally to hers. It felt so natural. Her eyes softened slightly before she turned to admire the roses, “Tell me Yunseong, what other things exist that we don’t know about.” I smiled sadly at her, I was so helplessly entranced by her in every way, it was so obvious.

“Which ones do you want to know?”

“Well I know about time traveling, since we just did it, and the fact that multiple universes exist, so just anything that’d be a shock to most people.”

“I know in your universe it’s a big debate on if soulmates exist, but they do exist. Other is probably, people you see, aren’t always people, they can be some misshapen monster put into the wrong universe.”

Her eyes shot back to mine, “Like the people next to you from last night?” I nodded, “I was shocked when you could see them because you’re not supposed to be able to see them. No normal person should be able to see them. I’m positive you saw some kind of video or picture when we were coming over here.”

“I did.” My hunch was right. Nobody is every that quiet, there’s always some sort of panicking or nervous whispering. She was silent. She wasn’t normal and I’m sure of it, I’m just not sure in what way she’s different. “What was it of?”

A shy smile painted itself over her face and her eyes filled with a certain sense of happiness I’d never be able to understand. “It was incredibly mundane and unimportant, but it seemed so life changing and real to me. The main thing was, I guess when a person kissed my forehead.”

“Who was this somebody?” Her face contorted slightly in confusion, “I’m not really sure, I couldn’t see their face.”

“If you’re okay with answering, what about it seemed so important to you?” Her bashful smile returned, her eyes turning to mine for a bit before turning away once again, “I don’t know who the person was, but at that moment I felt like I needed them. Like I wasn’t complete with out them. I could feel the kiss, but I couldn’t pinpoint what about felt so special and important to me. It just was.”

I smiled sadly, “It must’ve been a vision of your soulmate.” My hand reaches out and gently poked her cheek, I smiled fondly at the girl who stood in front of me, each time she died I always came back, even if I knew I shouldn’t. My heart broke each time but I couldn’t help it. I loved her.

“Yunseong do you have a soulmate?”

I smiled,“I do, but because I technically don’t exist, my soulmate has another soulmate.” I looked down at the roses and smiled, their vibrant reds truly shining as the setting sun covered them in a golden light. It was a scene that could really only be described as unreal, “What do you mean you don’t exist?”

“I was born in between universes, so while I am here and real, I’ll never really exist anywhere. I’ll spend all of my seemingly endless life fixing the universe’s anomalies, until the day my body gives out. But then I’ll be reborn like this once again.” I paused, my throat tightening slightly, “The majority of us don’t have soulmates. I’m one of the few who does. I’ll never be able to be with them though, so what does it matter at this point.”

“Do you know them?” I turned to look at Y/N, her eyes glazed with a childlike sense of curiosity, I smiled wholeheartedly before turning away to watch the sun set, my smile instantly falling, “I’ve seen her die, and be reborn multiple times. Each and every time it happens I can’t help but hope she’ll be one of us. It’s selfish I know, but it’s been centuries in your years, over again watching them fall in love with another man. It’s futile. But I’ll always adore her no matter who she’s been reborn as.”

Her hand landed gently on my arm, lightly grabbing in the long sleeve shirt that hung loosely on my arm, tears brimming at her eyes. A wave of emotions washed over me in which I could only name a few, my hands lifted up to her face and I gently swiped her tears with my thumbs, watching as she sniffled. My hand gently pinched at the soft skin of her cheeks, smiling as a timid smile painted her face. She gently took my hand in both of hers and held it tightly. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I can’t do anything about it. All I can do is watch and hope she’s happy with who ever she lands as a soulmate. It hurts so damn much. She’ll never know how much I truly love her, but it’s alright. I’ll die one day, maybe I’ll be among the majority of us who are lucky enough to not have soulmates.” Her lips pursed as her eyes locked on mine. Once again, her eyes stared into mine trying to find something, something I’d never know of. Her hands still firmly held onto mine. “Would you ever tell your soulmate that?”

Words were caught at my throat, I had so much to say, yet no way to say it. Should I tell her? I sighed heavily and and gently leaned in to place a loving kiss to her forehead, using my free hand to gently cup her face, my thumb stroking her cheekbone,

“I just did.”

❥❥❥❥

We had just arrived once again in 2019, I was hesitant to leave. Y/N stayed silent, and while she hadn’t said anything to me following my three-worded confession, she refused to let go of my hand. The sky was dark, the only illumination present in anyway being the uninviting street lights that were scattered across the sidewalks.

I walked Y/N to her doorstep and watched her head up to the door. Each step she took to her door felt agonizingly long, I’d never see her again after this, and she knew it. Her hands reached the doorknob and I watched as she unlocked her door. My eyes watched intently as she began to walk inside her house. In an instant she dropped her keys and turned back to me, she walked quickly and rested her head against my shoulder, her hands wrapped around my waist. To say I was shocked was an understatement, I felt my body relax against hers as my arm pulled her closer. My head rested against hers and we stood there quietly,

“Yunseong don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” My heart broke at the shakiness of her words, her warm forehead pressed against the side of my neck sending goosebumps up my spine. “You know I can’t stay.” Her arms tightened around my body as I began to pull away. “Why can’t you stay?”

“I don’t belong here.” She shook her head gently, before pulling her upper body away from mine and looking me in the eyes, “Whenever I look into your eyes I see something different, I can see your fears, I can see your thoughts, and I can see your memories. You’re real in every way. When I look at you I see Hwang Yunseong. Whether you exist or not, I love you. Whether you knew it or not I always have.”

“And whether you accept it or not I’m not letting go.”

A smile grew on my face as I bashfully looked away from her trying to hide a smile. A sudden stinging in my eyes startled me, I chuckled softly at myself, soon joined by Y/N. Just like the first time we had truly talked, for a moment it was just a fit of giggles. Her gleaming smile so gorgeous, I couldn’t help but stare. When the laughs ceased I felt a tear roll down my cheek, something that hadn’t happened in quite a long time. “Why are you crying Yunseong?”

“I never thought I’d be able to have a moment like this with you. I just love you. Much more than you’d ever know.”

“I love you too Yunseong.”

❥❥❥❥

This was the moment that’d change our lives. This was the moment I felt complete, after what felt like an eternity of endless searching, endless watching happy couples together, I finally felt like I was complete.

She’d never understand how much I love her. She never will. Your not just fond of someone for hundreds of years. Sure I’m a know it all, but I really didn’t know how she felt.

And I’m glad I didn’t.

❥❥❥❥

[supernatural-book]

Oneiric (Chapter I)

Chapter Title: Oneiric

Summary: It's been two months now since Dean's girlfriend disappeared from the Bunker. When they finally find her, nothing could have prepared them for the state she was in. Will they be able to help her remember the world around her, or will Dean be forced to let her go forever?

A/N: So yall remember that series I had started that only had 1 chapter? Oneiric? Yeah, well, I FINALLY restarted it and actually have a plan this time. Hopefully, I continue it this time. I’m so sorry to everyone who might have been waiting for me to update that! So, some quick notes about this new series: I’m making up the “monster” that’s featured in this story because I came across some mythology and decided to do something with it.

Word Count: around 4,500

oneiric /ōˈnīrik/: (adjective) 1. relating to dreams or dreaming; from the Greek word oneiros, meaning a dream.

Ah, the simple life was great. 

It was the same, day after day. The same exact morning routine, the same exact day at your safe little office job, and the same routine as you left every evening. You’d smiled as you exited your workplace, waving to your friends and heading out to your car. The sun was about to set, and a soft glow was cast over the town you live in. Basking in the pink glow, you thought about your home. Here I come. Home sweet home. The drive home was always the same, but something was extremely off on this particular evening.

Your mind wandered to the dream you had last night. It was odd, but not unusual. You could call it recurring, but every time it invaded your peaceful sleep it was as if it was another “chapter” of whatever was happening.

You couldn’t describe what you were seeing. These… these monsters in front of you were like nothing you’d ever seen. You were in the middle of the woods with a gun in your hand, but you weren’t sure a gun would save you.

Before you knew it, you were cold, lying on the ground, and something felt… wrong.  Reaching down with trembling hands, your fingers brushed over something hot and wet. Blood. You could taste the blood in your mouth and tried to turn to the side to spit it out- stopping when a sharp pain shot through your abdomen. Oh, God. Oh, God. You felt empty, the bottom half of your body was in searing pain, there was blood everywhere. Everywhere.

“(Y/N)!” Someone called out your name. You couldn’t see them, but you someone’s presence, hands hovering over your body, not wanting to unintentionally hurt you. “Oh God. Fuck.” You heard his muttering, felt tears on your face- his or yours, you weren’t sure- and your face pressed into a heavily clothed chest. He lifted you gingerly off the ground, gathering you into his arms. “I know it hurts, but don’t close your eyes. C’mon kiddo, stay with me.” But you felt your eyelids drooping. And then he was running, yelling. “Keep your eyes open!”

You’d wake up in a cold sweat.

You turned on the radio, trying to block out the anxious thoughts, but the only legible thing was the static hiss of your favorite station. “What the hell?” Maybe the radio tower was down or something, but you couldn't shake the eerie feeling from your gut. Your eyelids fluttered. Were you always this tired coming home from work? The engine of your car hummed louder than normal, and for a moment it didn't even sound like your little car. It sounded like something larger, more powerful. You pulled over as quickly as you could, closing your eyes and rubbing them, with the palms of your hands. Your brain pounded against your skull, and you started whimpering in pain.

“Keep your eyes open, please!” You heard a voice echoing through your mind, and something told you that the voice wasn’t coming from real life. Images flashed before your mind, an abandoned road tunnel, someone’s arms around you, an old black car, green eyes. Pain.

Your eyes shut- you were certain of that- but now you were looking down on yourself as if you were in a third-person perspective but you couldn’t control anything that you were doing. Where am I going? What’s happening? Where am I? Am I dying? Among all the questions, there was only one clear thought in your mind as your vision started to fade.

Something was very wrong.

Two months. It's been two months since your disappearance.

“How do we even know she’ll be there anymore?” The younger Winchester spoke in a cautious tone, looking over at his brother. Usually, he was the one who kept optimistic and held enough faith for the both of them, but you had been gone for a long time, and he didn’t think that Dean would ever stop looking.  

“Well,” Dean’s jaw clenched, the stress of the past two months evident in his weary face, eyes still glued on the road in front of them. “We don’t. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop looking for her.” The two of them fell silent as raindrops pattered on the windshield, matching their gloomy mood. It was so much different now- so empty without you in the backseat. They could both still remember the night you disappeared without a word. You had been acting differently throughout the weeks before you disappeared, though, unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to notice the change in your mood until it was too late. Dean grew suspicious when you didn’t come to bed with him that night, but fell asleep without you, figuring he’d find you next to him in the morning. He woke up earlier than usual- earlier than Sammy- and rolled over, hoping to find you in his arms.

He didn’t.

He texted you, wondering if maybe you just went out to the store before he even woke up in the morning. When you didn’t answer after half an hour, he wondered if you were just asleep in your old bedroom instead of with him for some reason. So he searched in your bedroom desperately. You were gone. None of your clothes were packed up and nothing was missing, save from the knife Dean had gotten for you that you always kept under your pillow. On your bed lie two objects. The first was your phone.

You’d never leave without it. Never- it was too dangerous. Dean picked it up as if it was the last piece of you that he had, turned it on, and saw the lock screen of the two of you, smiling and happy on your first date. You were both a few years younger, sitting side by side in a diner booth. Dean’s cheek was facing the camera, a sneaky look on his face- he was pressing a chaste kiss into your cheek, surprising you right as you'd pressed the camera button. Your lips were turned up in a pleasant smile and your eyes were on him, giving him a look with more affection and love than he'd ever been given. Looking back, he was ashamed that that was one of the only romantic things he'd done for you. Not much has changed since then, but the happiness had faded from your eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at it anymore and set it back on your bed. Beside it lay a small slip of paper. It was simple but all the more painful.

“im sorry. i love you.

There was no heart scribbled down next to your “i love you” like usual, so Dean suspected that something must have been wrong. It was just unfortunate that he didn’t notice sooner.

Sam was startled awake that morning at the sound of glass breaking and found Dean in the kitchen with a shattered vase of flowers that he had picked for you only a few days earlier. He had just checked the garage, only to find that one of the old cars were gone. “She’s gone, Sammy.” Sam was shocked at your departure, but it took Dean even longer to realize and admit that you left at your own free will. He refused to believe it, saying that no, you did not write that, but your kidnapper did. Someone must have broken in, taken you against your will. You wouldn’t just leave like that. You wouldn’t do that to him. Sam still remembers having to calm his brother down when he thought you’d been kidnapped. He remembers his brother storming through the bunker, searching for any trace of you, any sign of a break-in, and throwing books to the floor in a furious rage.

Sam tried his best to comfort his brother, but he knew- from personal experience- how much it hurt to lose someone who’s that important to you. Someone who almost closer to you than your own brother. The night after you left, Dean drank. He drank, and drank, and drank. Dean was emotional- probably the most emotional Sam had ever seen him. He’d put his face in his hands and breathed heavily, trying to lessen the sobs before hiding in his room to drown himself in his whiskey.

“I’m not going to stop looking until I find her, Sammy. And I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me, I’m going to kill anyone who tried to hurt her.” Sam remembers the look on his brother’s face- empty, lost, scared- as he tried to hide his tears. Dean let out a worried chuckle. “She wouldn’t just leave like this. She wouldn’t.”

“We’ll find her, Dean.”

Later, Dean started to think that maybe you’d made a crossroads deal and ran off so they wouldn’t know. But you wouldn’t. He tried to tell himself. You would never. They tried to pick up the pieces, looking through red lights and surveillance cameras around the area to try and find pictures of the car you had taken from the garage. It was a week before they even had a trail to follow. And now, they were here, two months after your disappearance.

“Sammy, look!” Sam could practically hear the hope in his brother’s voice. In front of them lay a run-down building- an old hotel, from the looks of it. Parked in front was the car you had stolen from the bunker the evening you left. Dean had shifted the Impala into park and was out in the rain in a second, gripping his gun secure in his hand as he approached the car and peered inside. There was nothing out of the ordinary, save for a hair tie hung around the gear stick. That was definitely you. What worried Dean was that the keys were tossed haphazardly onto the seat as if you hadn’t planned on coming back.

“Do you think she’s inside?” Sam approached his brother with two flashlights.

“She’s got to be.” Dean took the flashlight and turned towards the entrance to the building, gathering himself up to prepare for whatever they may find inside.

“Dean, we can’t just jump in there. We have no idea what’s holding her.” Dean didn’t hesitate and continued to move towards the building.

“I don’t care what’s got her. I’m getting her back.” He struggled with the locked front door before kicking it in. They were immediately hit with a musty smell and looked around at their surroundings. It was empty and showed no sign that you were ever there until Dean’s flashlight fell on something metallic across the room. “Goddamn it.” He moved across the room fluidly, kneeling down and turning the object in his hands, running his hand over the familiar etching on the blade. This was the knife he had gotten you. “It’s hers.”

“Dean. Over here.” Dean looked towards his brother and saw him holding up a familiar piece of fabric. Your jacket. “She was definitely here.” A loud clatter erupted from the floor above them, and the brothers shared a look before rushing towards the stairs.

Directly above where the brothers were searching, your eyes cleared and you slowly became aware of your surroundings. Where the fuck am I? Was that all just a dream?  You were lying down in a tattered, dirty bed. The walls of the room you were in were grimy and dark, and it looked like the setting for a torture scene. For a moment your heartbeat raced, but you weren’t tied or cuffed down, so however you got here, whoever brought you must not want to keep you here that badly. “What that hell?” You lifted your head and immediately regretted it as your brain pounded against your skull. “Fuck…” You couldn’t help but whimper and grab at your head. Looking around once more, you noticed a… a tube? No, it wasn’t a solid object. Well, something intangible was running down the insides of both of your arms, radiating a pale white light, cold to the touch. Was that… your veins, glowing? Something was wrong. So fucking wrong.

What the fuck was happening? How did you get here? The last thing you remember is driving home from work. Was it a dream? Did you fall asleep at the wheel and die? Is this hell? Doubtful. You didn’t do anything in your life that would damn you to hell if it even existed.

You heard something breaking downstairs and the panic rose again. You jerked out of the bed and tried to move towards the door, but got dizzy halfway and fell to the floor.

“What’s this?” You snapped up and came face to face with a pale, long-haired woman in a white robe that you swore wasn’t there before.  Woman? What- what was wrong with her skin? It was gray, lifeless, almost. Well, she certainly wasn’t… okay. “Oh, darling, you’re awake?” Her words were sweet and maternal, the tone of her voice pulled you in, even if her face was stone-still and calm. Something about her was lulling and familiar and made you drowsy. You sucked up your fear and spoke in a shaky voice.

“Who are you?”

“You’re hurting. I can make it better” She reached out to you with that white light coming from her hands and fingernails that were way too long and sharp. You scrambled backward quickly, only to collide with her again- did she just teleport? She spun you around and locked eye contact with you. There was something wrong with her eyes. They definitely weren't eyes, for starters. Never in your life had you looked into someone's eyes and seen such a clear, watery, irisless look. The watery mirrors of her eyes reflected your face, showing you just how terrified you looked. You were being pulled into her river-water-eyes, unaware that she had her sharp fingernails- claws- pressed sharply to your neck when a gunshot rang through the room. She, it- whatever it was- vanished, unharmed, into a watery cloud of light.

“(Y/N)?” You spun towards the loud noise to see two large men with guns rushing towards you and your fight or flight instinct kicked in. You chose flight.

“Get away from me!” You backed into the corner of the room with your hands in front of your face, feeling tears of pure fear and confusion building in your eyes. The men stopped in their tracks as if shocked by your reaction. “Please… don't hurt me."

"Woah! Woah, (Y/N). We won't hurt you." They tucked their guns away and the shorter of the two moved forward cautiously as if you were a scared animal and he was trying not to frighten you.

“(Y/N)?” You didn’t understand why he kept saying it. “Is that… my name?” A flash of terror ran through your blood. You saw something click in the man’s face, something you said must have struck him. He looked away for a moment as if he couldn’t face you, running his hands through his hair and mumbling curses before the taller, long-haired man stepped forward. You flinched back again. “Who are you?”

“You don’t remember us?” Remember? So you knew them at one point. You shook your head. “I’m Sam. That’s my brother, Dean. We’re here to help. Do you remember anything at all?” The long-haired man- Sam- watched with a gentle expression as you tried to rack your brain for any type of memories. You were terrified to find that everything was emptiness, up until when you woke up minutes ago.

“No. Why can’t I… What… what was that thing? How was it glowing? How did it disappear like that?” You wiped hastily at the tears on your face, but your hands were dirty and you weren’t sure you wanted to know what was on them.

“Hey, listen to me. We’re going to get you out of here, alright? We can explain everything later.” You hesitated for a moment.

"How can I trust you?”

“You can either trust us or stay here and wait for that thing to come back. There’s no real option here.” You may not know exactly who these guys are, but to be fair you didn’t even know who you were either, and there was no way you’re staying one more minute in this place.

“Okay.”

“Do you think you can walk on your own?” The short-haired guy- Dean, apparently- finally spoke up again, his voice strained and raspy, despite the caring and worried look on his face. You shook your head, remembering how you ended up on the floor in the first place. “Here.” Dean held out a hand and helped you to your feet, supporting you with an arm hooked around your shoulders as you quickly retreated from your prison.

Outside, it was pouring. The light drizzle from earlier had picked up, and now it was pouring buckets. Dean held his jacket over your head so that you didn’t get too wet while he helped you into the backseat of a classic black car. A few seconds later, he handed you a spare flannel shirt that had been in the back. “You’re probably cold, yeah?” you looked down at your old, tattered and dirty tank top and ripped jeans and wondered how long you had been there. So you nodded and pulled the shirt on, immediately feeling a wave of familiar warmth surround your body. The shirt was huge and warm on you, and you imagined it must have been his or his brother's.

“Thanks.” Your voice came out weak and quivering. Dean’s eyes lingered on you for only a moment longer with a soft smile before he climbed into the front seat, now soaked in rainwater. Sam slid into the backseat next to you while you absentmindedly stroked the black leather seat and missed the warning look that Dean shot him.

"I'm just going to ask some questions on the way, okay? So that you can rest for as long as you like when we get back." You nodded at him, and he gave his best reassuring smile. "Do you know what day it is?" You tried to imagine the last time you'd seen the date, but all you saw was black.

"I have no idea." You felt so helpless that you couldn't answer any questions.

"Your name?"

"Well… (Y/N)? That's only a guess. That's what you guys said back there, right?"

"No last name, either?"

"Not that I can think of. I'm sorry."

"Hey," Sam stopped you with a gentle voice. "None of this is your fault, alright? We'll figure it out." You glanced up to see watery green eyes in the rearview mirror before Dean glanced back to the road.

"We always do." Dean added from the front.

The trip was quiet, mostly just Sam’s questions and your short answers. After a bit, he just started to tell you that it’d be alright, that you were safe with them and you’d never have to deal with whatever just happened again. They still hadn’t explained who they were to you- your past self- you figured it must have been too painful for them to express at the moment. You had caught Dean’s gaze in the rearview mirror more times than you could count, each time looking more and more painful than the last. You sunk down in the seat, pressing your head back into the leather seat, not wanting to fall asleep yet. Maybe an hour or two later, Dean parked the car in front of an odd building. “Where…”

“This is home, (Y/N).” Dean smiled from the front, pain still evident in his face. Sam got out and you could see Dean motion for him to head in awhile. Dean stayed behind and helped you out of the car. You were almost sure you could walk on your own now, but didn't want to risk it- your head was still throbbing painfully.

“So this is… where I lived? A bunker?” You asked as Dean supported you on your way to the front door- if it could even be called that. There were concrete stairs, slicked with the rain that had passed, and a metal railing leading down to an old door- which Sam had left cracked open for you.

"This is where we live. The three of us." He sighed, looked at you with a hopeful smile. "Hope being here brings back some memories."

"Oh…" You felt bad. It was obvious that Dean had been affected more than his brother by this, and you wished there was something you could do to fix it. It's not like you could just choose to remember them. You steadied yourself on the railing, taking careful steps down the stairs, and took a breath before pushing the door open. Inside, you found yourself at the top of a metal balcony and staircase, looking out over a room with a single map-covered table and some chairs. You could see rooms beyond this one, but right now you were trying to pick up every last detail- perhaps that would help your memory.

“Anything?” Dean watched you with intense eyes, calming somehow, but worried. The longer it took you to answer, the more the hope in his eyes fell.

“Nothing.” Dean’s face fell completely.

“Okay.” He swallowed tightly. “Well, no worries. It’ll all come back eventually.” He supported you, hand on your shoulder as you climbed down the stairs slowly.

“Well, I…” You looked around again.  It feels… familiar. But I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s alright. You wanna take a shower and get some clean clothes?” He motioned at you, and you became ultra-aware of the fact that you were still cold, dirty, and- under Dean’s flannel- only wearing clothes that were tattered and, well, who knew how old? “I’ll grab you some fresh clothes. C’mon, I’ll show you to the shower.” His hand found your arm, and he guided you gently through the bunker, down a series of intertwining hallways. This place was so… complex. There’s no way you’d be able to find your way around without getting lost. “Ah,” Dean paused in front of a certain room. “This was your old room. You wanna… look around while I grab you some clothes?”

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” You pushed the door open and took a few seconds to glance around, trying to piece together any information you could get. Much like the moment when you first stepped into the bunker, you were hit with a wave of recognition. Somewhere, deep in your mind, you must have been here before. You moved closer to the bed, picking up a small photo that was framed on the nightstand. It was 2 side by side photos of Dean, one snapped while he wasn’t looking, and the other the moment he glanced over, a sparkle of surprise in his green eyes. Wow… we were pretty close, weren’t we? But you sighed when no specific memories came to you.

“Hey.” you glanced over to see Dean watching you from the dresser with a gentle look. You set the picture back down, feeling as if you were intruding on somebody’s privacy by looking at this photograph of Dean, though this was your room. “Don’t worry about remembering stuff yet. It’ll come back to you.” He had pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt- one that looked just as big as the one you had on. His?

“Thanks.”

“I’ll show you the shower now.”

It was refreshing, the hot water hitting your skin for the first time in who knows how long, washing off the remnants of that place you were kept. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander. What had happened in the last couple of hours? Well, you woke up in a dark, dirty warehouse and were face to face with something that looked far from human before two giant, intimidating men had stormed in with guns ready. You couldn’t remember anything from before that moment. And Dean… there was something about him that you couldn’t put your finger on. He was being so gentle with you, even though it looked like that wasn’t really his nature. Giving you his shirt, helping you around, and a framed picture of the two of you in your bedroom. It was obvious you were closer to him than to Sam. Maybe you were a couple? You stayed in the shower longer than you probably should have, feeling comforted by the rhythmic droplets of water hitting the shower floor. You stayed until the hot water went cold and the steam fogged up the mirror, before slowly stepping out and toweling off.

You changed into the clothes Dean gave you, feeling a wave of safety and protection when you pulled the flannel around you. It smelled like him- something masculine and strong- it had to be his shirt. While you buttoned up the shirt, you wiped away at the steamed up mirror and caught a glance of yourself. It looked like you’d been locked in a dark place for a while- you looked half dead. To be fair, you were. You left the bathroom and stepped into the hallway.

Dean was nowhere in sight.  

Oh, no. You have to find your own way back to your bedroom? You moved to look down one long hallway. Is that the one we came from? It didn’t help that all of them looked the same. “Dean!” You called out for him, a tremor in your voice, hoping that he could hear from wherever he was. You turned, hearing footsteps coming from the other direction. Dean came into view, his face going apologetic the moment he saw your worry.

“Sorry, (Y/N). Thought I’d give you some privacy. Forgot you don’t exactly know this place yet.”

“S’okay. I just… can you take me back to uh, my room?"

"Course." He showed you down the hallway again, nudging a door open. Once again, you were hit with a wave of unfamiliar recognition. You've been here before, a time you can't remember. "If you need anything, my room's right down the hall." He pointed to the way opposite where you came from. "Or you can just shout. I'll probably be out in the library. Down that way."

"Okay." You didn't even bother to close the door before dragging yourself to the bed, pulling the covers up and closing your eyes. All you wanted right now was to lay down and sleep, to clear your mind of everything that had happened in the past few hours. Forget everything. God, maybe all your memories will return by tomorrow morning and you could put all of this behind you and move on. Or maybe this is all just a horrible dream and you’d wake up and start a new day and everything would be normal. But enough thinking. Tomorrow will come. Right now, all you wanted was to sleep. Maybe have a few good dreams in the meantime. 

If only...

Taglist!

@ruffdog921 (it’s been a really long time since you asked to be tagged, not sure if you even still wanna be tagged in Oneiric but here I guess?)

@solis200213

@music-lockscreen

@bella-ca

@samanthaharper2018

@yetanotherreader

@polina-93

@keithseabrook27

[mcuspidey-archive]

bulletproof | t.h. — part one

Pairing: Agent!Tom x Agent!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You have one job. Get the evidence and get out. Should be easy enough but with your incredibly irresistible partner in your ear the whole time, it’s a little hard to stay focused.

Warning: A LOT OF DIALOGUE, crime, cursing, angst, major flirting like, did I mention dialogue !!!! 

A/N: COLLAB WITH @thelazypangolin ! This started as a blurb request but I was so inspired and excited about it that I knew it had to be BIG and I couldn’t do it alone. I’m honored to be writing with her and we honestly are having so much fun with it that I’d be shocked if it didn’t turn into an entire series. (That will depend on the feedback we get so please let us know what you think ok?) We are just so proud of this and we really hope you enjoy it ❤️

Your hands reach for the computer that sat in front of you as drops of perspiration trickle down your forehead. You were well aware that the mission would be risky, but your lazy ass hated time-bound tasks enough for you to start stressing out.

Your hand finds the mini USB drive you had stashed in your back pocket earlier and despite it being a minute device, it would be the deciding factor on whether your assignment failed or succeeded.

“Y/N, you sure you can handle this one?” Tom’s voice flows softly through the tiny earpiece.

He was always teasing you and you loved it, but of course would never admit it. Rolling your eyes at the hidden cameras surrounding you, you hear him laugh.

“I can handle anything,” you assure him, a sly smirk spreads across your face. It was true and he knew it. You had only been working together for a few months and he already knew you better than anyone else ever had. You’re strong, the strongest person he knows, and so fearless. It was the reason you were offered the position in the first place because no matter what, you never backed down.

“I know. But are you sure you can stay focused, love? You look so sexy right now.” He tests you and you know he’s busy eyeing the black, skin-tight pants and red leather jacket that were hugging you in all the right places.

“Something tells me that you are the one who's having a hard time focusing, eh Holland?” you chuckle, hiding the underlying anxiety.

“I might be more focused if you dressed more professionally, ya know,” his voice saturates your being, officially distracting you. Though it wouldn't be exactly wrong to say that you did love all the distraction he brought to the job.

“Maybe I’m just trying to show you what you’ve been missing out on,” you say, a little too confidently. You knew you needed to be completely invested in the screen in front of you, but couldn’t help yourself. You dished it right back, only you were better at it and you wished you could see his reactions.

You hear his voice hitch and he lets out a soft groan. “You sure, this is the right time and the right place to show that?”

“Better now than never.” Your fingers tap nervously on all the possible combinations of numbers to unlock the information, yet you manage to let the words glide effortlessly.

“How 'bout after we’re done here?” He says, sending a shiver up your spine as you imagine the gorgeous, uneven grin he most likely had on his face. You gasp dramatically. “Tom Holland, are you asking me out?”

“I might be,” he says and a nervous laugh escapes his lips. It had been months of continuous flirting and ensuing tension between the two of you, and he chose now to do this?

Getting too caught up in him, you enter just enough wrong combinations.

The analogue display immediately sets to 10:00.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, it’s just- I may have set off the intruder alert, no big deal,” you try to brush it off. The fact that you made a mistake in the first place was bad enough.

“Y/N, they’re going to be there any minute, most likely armed, do you hear me? Get out!” Panic ringing clearly through his words.

09:00

“I uh-” you glance at the illuminated numbers. “-still have nine minutes. I can do this.” You fake confidence to pacify your partner's concerns but on the inside, you knew that you were fucked, big time.

“No damn it, the moment that clock hits zero, this entire building blows up and all the evidence with be destroyed. You are not going down with it,” Tom was almost yelling through the earpiece, his shrill voice making your already pounding heart beat out of your chest.

“Tom, I have nine-” you correct yourself as your eyes find the blinking red warning once again. “-eight and a half minutes and I can and will make it.”

It would go against the image you had worked so hard to maintain so no, you were not leaving this unfinished. You were given the nearly impossible task of catching these guys. Known to be one of the most dangerous group of criminals and their specialty? Importing stolen money which you were chosen to get proof of on the tiny USB drive now plugged to the computer. It was safe to say that you were scared, a feeling you weren’t familiar with because when it came to what you did for a living, you almost never felt fear. Now with the time still ticking down, 08:00, your nerves threaten to get the best of you.

“Come on, come on,” You urge the data percentage to move faster as it feels like it stays at 43% for hours instead of mere seconds.

Tom was still frantic, his melodic tone that usually calms you down, now builds you up and not in the good way.

“Listen to me, Y/N. Get out right now or I swear I will come in after you,” he scolded seriously and there was no doubt in your mind that he would. But you couldn’t let them get away with this and he was just going to have to trust you.

07:00

“I can’t,” you shake your head, about to say exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “I-I have to see this through, otherwise it’s all for nothing.”

“If they see you, you’re dead. If you hide and that timer stops, you're dead. You might be willing to risk your life but I’m not!” Tom yells again, needing you to just listen to him for once. You could tell he was pacing back and forth and with each step that echoed through the speaker, you felt more anxious and equally annoyed.

“I’m staying, Tom. I’ll be fine. You know I always am,” your wavering tone barely convincing you as you try to ease his frantic heart.

“This is different! Your life's on the line and I refuse to just sit in this damn van and let it happen.” He was trying everything because maybe something he said would change your mind. Or at the very least, his voice. Always calm and smooth as silk somehow, even when he was pissed off. One of his many features that typically made you weak, but right now? It just wasn’t enough.

As much as the situation was testing you, Tom's words weren't making it any better and engulfed with rage, you snap. “My life is always on the line. None of our missions are without risks!”

The deafening sound of Tom's fists slamming on the tabletop fills your ears, making you flinch. “There is no mission if you're dead,” he screamed and you take a deep breath and keep watching the data that was close to 78% now. Any second now.

“Can you hear me, Y/N?” Tom heaves a sigh and you swear you could feel his warm breath calm your nerves. You shut your eyes close and muster the courage to utter at least a single word that wouldn't shatter your hopes anymore.

“Please… Listen to me, I can’t lose you,” Tom's voice is a mere whisper and your heart sinks at the possibility of the inevitable.

Nevertheless, you shake your head and put your fingers to your ear. “Tom, I'll make it. Trust me,” you assure him and swallow harshly as your eyes well up. You never were the emotional one, you had aced the impossible before, but today just happened to be the day when your heart ached and you wished to melt in someone's arms. Tom's arms.

“I love you.”

You blink your eyes and furrow your brows. “What?”

“I said I love you, Y/N.” You feel the pain in his voice despite the barriers and your brimming eyes overflow just enough to let a tear stain your cheek.

03:00

“Y-you?” Your lip quivers and breath gets caught up in your throat. You sniffle and shut your eyes, it wasn't real. “Do you-”

“I have been in love with you ever since that first fucking day,” he said, sure and steady.

Silence.

You swallow harshly as your eyes watch the data percentage reach close to 98%. Your fingers tap on the table in front of you, ready to pull out the device and run for your life. To run to him.

“Y/N?” You feel heart-wrenching pain as your name rolls  off his tongue. How little a gesture, yet still left you in misery.

01:00

“Dammit, talk to me!” The voice in your ears was loud, loud and desperate. You could even hear the tapping of his foot, like the world silenced every other sound so you could savour the last moment, let his words engulf you for the last time.

100%

“Done,” you manage to slip the word out.

“Run, Y/N!” he screams over the comms and you inhale deeply. Show time.

Your fingers wrap around the device and you pull it with a jerk and take to your heels. Your vision grows hazy and you hastily wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn't help. Your pools were clouded, but your thoughts weren't. Tom was quiet yet his voice was still playing at the back of your mind like a broken record and you loved it. Maybe it was the last time that you got to hear it and if so, at least it was filled with the love that you desperately needed.

You stumble and then regain your balance.

You had done this before.

You harshly clear your throat and part your lips to let the words out. You couldn't wait to be in his arms, to tell him that you felt exactly the same but your current situation wasn't assuring your chances of escape. You take a gust of air in through your parted lips and manage to push the words out.

00:00

“I lo-”

Boom.

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[axelsagewrites]

Magnus Bane*No Tea Tonight PT2

A/N: IM SORRY. Im a day late. But this time my laptop broke right when I had a history and english assinment. I then had to write out my English essay (4 pages) and history essay (6 pages) by hand with all my notes saved on my laptop. That was my fun weekend. Im sorry. Im trying, I promise.

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Magnus Bane X Warlock!Reader

Part one

"Should we tell Magnus?" Isabelle asked her brother. They'd mulled over the case all night, thinking of different theories about where (Y/N) was and why. Going over files was normally tedious but the little clues they found every few pages kept their interest. Soon the pile was sky high. Alec looked up from the stove. he'd offered to make breakfast, not wanting to be poisoned by Isabelle, before they went to follow up some clues. "Maybe. I'm not sure. This might not go anywhere, I don't want him to get his hopes up," The pancakes were ready, and Alec handed Izzy a plateful. "Yeah but," she started with the pancake in her mouth, "he'll know stuff we won't. Plus, they were in love," "Exactly. When Valentine took Jace I was distraught but I knew he was alive because we were parabatai. That kept me going. Now we're going to put Magnus through the same stress with no guarantee." Isabelle sighed, "It's just not right. I would want to know," It was too early for Alec to really care about anything, but this was getting to him, "We follow up some clues, first hint of something we'll call him. Deal?" "Deal."

It was somewhat expected that most of their clues would be duds. They were vague photos of someone who vaguely looked like (Y/N) from years ago. Most of the areas had either changed or been remodeled since or it was a landmark where no one would've remembered them. They decided a snack was well deserved so bit the bullet and got some street food. "I always think I'm going to die when I eat this," Alec said once they were out of the vendors hearing. Isabelle shrugged as she plopped on a bench, Alec follows, "At this point, I'd eat anything," It was a wonder to other females how Isabelle could eat so much and be that fit. "You got the files?" Alec pulled out what a mundane would describe as a flash drive and pressed a small button. Like in the institute a screen was lit up like a hologram they could swipe on. And like all their other tech the Mundanes couldn't see it. "We've checked clues A through H. the rest seem to be spread across the world. Malta, London, Tokyo, Morocco, basically everywhere," Isabelle squinted at the screen, "I don't get it. it's not like (Y/N) was discreet. Look, they're in full view in that one, not even trying to hide," Isabelle pointed to a photo of (Y/N) standing at some old bookshop seemingly looking right at the camera, "I just don't get it," Alec thought it over when something popped in his head, "What I don't get is why we're out here when this was Jace's idea," "Oh, he's trying to get permission from the clave to escalate the case," She rolled her eyes, "Clary said they were going out today so I think he might be lying," "Ya think?" Alec was anything if not sarcastic. "Where's the bookshop?" "Dunno. it just says Marvin's Books. No street or anything," "We must be missing something," Alec muttered, enhancing the photo and looking at every corner and pixel he could. "There, look." Isabelle did and shrugged, "Do you know any Mundanes with purple skin?" Isabelle looked closer and sure enough, there was an arm in the shop window, the rest of the body not in view. But the hand was purple. "Hey, that photo at the twin towers..." "Probably the same guy. Maybe if we find the bookshop," "Well it has to be an English speaking country because of the sign," Alec nodded along to Isabelle's thoughts "and the clothes are so 2005," Alec gave Izzy a look who shrugged it off. Izzy scanned the photo some more, "Zoom in on that bag," Alec did, "And that mundane looks like she's holding a target bag." "Must be America," "Yeah. So, 2005, America, some guy named Marvin." "It's a start,"

There's only so much Isabelle and Alec can do so they went back to the institute, running the photo of the bookshop against the institute's gallery. Thank angel you can filter by date and location otherwise it would've taken weeks. Instead just 3 days. Izzy groaned when she saw the estimate. "Look who decides to show up," Alec says as Jace and Clary walk past. Jace pauses with a grin, "You know how the clave is-" "You're lying. Isabelle said you and the little girl were going on a date. So you get to alphabetize the case files," Alec grabbed and chucked a huge file filled with random sheets of paper at Jace. Jace grimaced, "Why do we keep paper copies?" Alec shrugged, "To make you suffer?" he suggested. "So did you'd find anything?" Clary asked, too upbeat for Alec's liking. Isabelle groaned from in front of the screen, "Give this thing 3 days and maybe. Something about a bookshop, some guy names Marvin, 2005, and some guy with purple skin," Clary raised her eyebrows, "You asked." Isabelle turned to her brother, "Are we telling Magnus?" Internalizing the biggest sigh possible, Alec forced himself out his seat, "C'mon then," "You know there's no point in us all going," Jace said. "Jace unless you want me to hire decorators to turn your room into a duck wonderland I suggest you put your shoes back on," Jace scoffed. Isabelle didn't, "He's not kidding. Look we got bored," Isabelle clicked on a different tab and a Pinterest board of duck-themed bedrooms popped up. Jace shivered, "Bloodthirsty little beasts. Let's go then,"

The eldest lightwood was less than enthusiastic that Clary had joined them but said nothing. Well, nothing much. Isabelle talked to Clary about what outfit to were next time they went out and Jace held his arm protectively around Clary. So Alec thought about how to tell Magnus what they'd found. Hey Magnus your lovers not dead Sup Magnus? By the way, you're missing lover might've been kidnapped by some purple dude. Hi, Magnus. So you remember that lover that's been missing for almost 20 years and is probably our fault? Yeah, we found her! Turns out we just never looked in the first place. Or as Alec actually said when Magnus opened the door, "We found (Y/N). well, pictures at least," Alec needn't have said more before Magnus ushered them all in. "What do you mean?" The group shared a look at Magnus' desperation. "I don't care how...bad it is just tell me. I need to know," Isabelle stepped forward, "We found a picture of (Y/N) after they went missing. Couldn't have been taken before 2014," "Impossible. You must be wrong," Pulling out the flash drive, Izzy brought up the photo, "That museum wasn't built till 2014. They were alive then...maybe now," Magnus just stared at the image. "But-but if (Y/N) is alive, why haven't they came back?" The shadowhunters couldn't look him in the eye. Isabelle swiped through the photos "Some of them aren't very clear but look. (Y/N) has been all over the place. Every continent. The last photo was taken in 2015 outside of some shop in England," She swiped to the photo. "They have CTV in England," Magnus' eyes lit up as he spoke, "The whole place is covered in cameras," Alec sighed, "They get wiped every few months, let alone years." Magnus ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it, "Why are you showing me this?" Isabelle and Alec shared a  look, "We need your help." Isabelle told him. She went to the photo with the man with purple skin and horns, "He's been in a few photos. Well bits of him. This is the only one showing his face. Do you, do you recognize him?" Magnus stared at the photo, "I've met a lot of warlocks. Can't you check the system?" "They're not all on there. If other warlocks hiding them they tend to slip through the gaps," Alec said. "You think (Y/N) was hiding someone?" Alec hesitated but gave a single nod, "Theirs no way. They would've told me. (Y/N) was horrible at secrets, got all riled up over them." Magnus looked at the picture longer, "He looks...familiar?  As I said I've met a lot of people. Horns and purple skin aren't such a rarity. Hasn't he shown up in his own photos?" "Only with (Y/N)," Isabelle said. Jace suddenly seemed to realize something and grabbed Clary's satchel. "Hey!" She objected as Jace rummaged till he pulled out a file, "Jace!" "Sorry babe," he flicked through the file, "Here, it's some of the pictures of him," Jace handed Magnus a small stack of maybe 7 photos that had been printed, the first being the one of the man. Clary and Alec were both glaring at him, "One less thing to file," he murmured under his breath. Magnus shot him a quick glare, "I'll have a think on it," That pleased the shadowhunters. "Look if you think of anything, even not about these photos, call us yeah?" Alec said. "Of course. Anything to find (Y/N)," Magnus seemed to suddenly dislike shadowhunters again as he began to hustle them out the door. Alec hung back to check on him, "I'm...okay. Look its difficult. I've not seen a recent picture, I've not had this sort of hope. You need to give me time," Alec nodded, "Of course. But you know we're here for you?" Magnus nodded. Alec looked over his shoulder before saying in a quieter voice, "You helped me a lot when we first met. I was confused and in denial. I know we're on different sides but Magnus, you're a real friend," "I'm glad I could help Alexander," Magnus said, "Truly. No one should feel ashamed of what they are," "And you shouldn't be ashamed of feeling alone. If you need to talk," "I'll call," Magnus finished it for him. "Thank you. (Y/N) should see me now, being friends with a shadowhunter," They both gave a short laugh over that. "I'll see you later," "Bye Magnus," Alec walked down to meet his friends and Clary. Isabelle hung back, asking what that was about. "Just wanted him to know he isn't alone," "Does Alec have a crush?" Izzy teased. Alec rolled his eyes, "We've been over this. Sure he's cute but no," "Still hung up on you know who?" she nodded to the couple in front. "Nah. I'm young, apparently, I've been...seeing people." This statement led to a long and intense discussion on Izzy's part trying to find out who exactly.

Magnus watched from his balcony as the shadowhunters walked out of sight. Chairman brushed by his feet, reminding him to feed his cat. Magnus set a bowl of food down and went to sit on his couch. The photos sat discarded on the coffee table. The warlock picked the top one up with an expression only someone with too many memories could have. "What did you do Caleb?" Magnus whispered, staring at the infrit on the paper. Magnus snapped his finger and the strongest drink he could image showed up. He flung the photo back on the pile and leaned back into the couch, drink in hand. "You were always (Y/N)'s favorite rescue,"

Part three

[ben-is-a-hoe]

Cigarettes and Destiny

Summary: When Ostara couldn't help bring Laura back to life and didn't have a clue how to help them they go ask for help from another god of life.

Pairing: Mad Sweeney x Mokosz

Warnings: swearing, bad writing, Slavic (Polish) paganism

A/N:

English is not my native language so be warned!!! it's my first time when I write in English so please be polite im sensitive

@goldngalaxies helping me with a lot of things while im trying to create this story, she deserves a lot of credit, if she would not like my ideas or my drawings of Mokosz i never would push myself to bring this to life

ALSO, i haven't written in so long my dudes soooooo fucking long like.. long time.. b e p o l i t e

here is fanart of Mokosz and Mad Sweeney @goldngalaxies made for me AND I LOVE IT WITH ALL MY HEART 

          It was supposed to be one of those days when she would wake up many hours past the afternoon, then lay in bed till the urge to pee would force her to get up. But this time some unbearable pain with its origin in parts of her being she forgot about a long time ago was drilling into her guts. She was trying to ignore it with all her strength of laziness. Because if she would finally admit something is happening, she would have to do something about it…

‘Mokosz! Get up, you fat ass!’ Her eyes weren’t even open yet but she already know what kind of face her friend would serve her. Mokosz slowly peeled off blindfold from her eyes and looked around her apartment. Standing in the doorframe was Hebe.

'Did you make me breakfast?’ she murmured with sleepy, raspy voice. The look at her friend face was a pure shock.  

'How could you e…Yeah, sure how about we eat on the balcony?'

'Sounds like a plan.’ Mokosz took her time getting out of bed. She reached under her pillow in search of the pack of cigs. She had to lay down to reach them, and stayed in this position for a while. Her legs already on the floor and her body stretched out on the bed with an arm under her pillows.

'Your cigs are here.’ Hebe shook a half-empty package, attracting Mokosz’s attention. Hebe opened the door to the balcony and when the sun and fresh air touched Mokosz skin, she finally decided to leave the bed. Her steps were slow and uneven since the pain that woke her up still clenched around her insides. She was about to take the cigs from Hebe’s hand, but at that moment, she lost any desire for a morning smoke.

'Where the fuck is Central Park?’ In place of the grass and trees and all the beautiful green that was the reason why rent for this place was so expensive was gone, instead it was just a huge grey spot.

'I was about to ask you the same question… You think we should go to the House on the Rock?'

'Nah, I’m going to take a shit, and then I’ll take a cab to Starbucks.’ Mokosz was about to leave the room but she stopped halfway. 'When Grimnir asked me for help he knew I would tell him to fuck off… Why… why didn’t he send Sweeney?'

'Because he would knew you would try to kill the Irishman?'

                                                         ***

         Mokosz sat at the table, her back turned to the door and her eyes concentrated at the view behind the window. Clouds flew slowly through the sky. Mokosz wanted to be a cloud now. Clusters of steam high up there, far away from everything, untouched by anyone’s problems. Hebe disappeared somewhere and left Mokosz alone. Good. A quiet moment before the storm. He was close, she could sense it with her inner Asshole-radar. He was… and here instead of bunch of invectives, her mind brings her quite a different image. It was a warm morning, even though the sun hadn’t shown its whole face yet. They were laying in a meadow back in her homeland, holding each other in such a way that if there was even a little break between their bodies, the whole universe would fall apart. Sweeney was the kind of man who comes and goes, he disappeared for whole weeks but always came back to her. How could she know it was the last time they would touch each other for the next four hundred years? If she knew, she would have never let him go.

         When the door finally opened, she was ready. Or at least, she was thought herself ready and tried to convince herself she was, but the truth was that she wasn’t. Mokosz was far from being ready to meet her ex-lover. But it wasn’t anything like ‘ugh I hate my ex’ it was more ‘i will rip his spine through his throat then tear his ribcage open and eat his heart’ kind of not being ready. Not because she ISN’T desperate for murder, but because she just had dinner and there was no place for dessert, let alone for a whole (kind of) human heart. She refused to take even so much as a glance in his way, but she could feel his stare on her body. A few centuries ago every time he laid his eyes on her, she felt burning desire, but now it was nothing like that, now it was an unpleasant feeling mixed with a cold, sweaty shiver running down her spine.

'Mokosz, I told them to fuck off, but…’ Hebe tried to calm the situation even if she knows there was no way to make any of this better. 'Yeah I know, I saw them in front of the building.'

'Cześć,’ he said and this was all she needed to snap. Of all the things, after all those years, he just said this. The rage that filled her body almost made her cry with frustration.

'Listen I know you two don’t get along but we are here because…’ Laura started, but before she got a chance to finish, Mokosz got up from her seat, turned around, and pointed a gun at Sweeney. Without any warning, she fired it at the leprechaun, but he quickly shielded himself with Laura’s body.

'Fuck!’ He throws his companion at Mokosz, but she quickly jumps back. Sweeney jumps behind the big armchair, but it wasn’t strong enough to stop the bullets. He ran to the table and turned it over so he could hide behind it.

'Mokosz, for fuck’s sake!’ He shouts between gunshots. But she aims and shoots again and again until her magazine was empty. She clicked the trigger a few times more even though she knew there was nothing more inside. 'You done?!’ He asked, exposing his head beyond the edge of the table, but she was far from done. The gun itself flew across the room and hit Sweeney right in the face.He fell onto his back and they heard a loud thud when his big body hit the floor. He shouts few courses in English and Old Irish mixed with few variations of Mokosz’s name.

         Mokosz never, even in her wildest dreams, would let herself think that any man’s absence could cause her such misery. When she saw him the last time it was midsummer’s celebration night. For her, it was Noc Kupały, the night of searching for the fern flower which really was just an excuse to drag someone into the woods, so they could shamelessly fuck on a leaf litter, or Lá Bealtaine like he called it, but her version of this holiday, Sweeney liked more. The longest night of the year just for them two. They jumped over the flames of a bonfire, holding hands because it was a sign of their bravery, faith, and undying love for fuck’s sake. When all the girls were making wreaths of flowers so they could float them on the river and wait if some boy would capture it, which meant they wanted to bang this girl or they had a crush on her or both, Sweeney was always the one who captured her wreaths and brought them back to her. This meant he liked her right? Or even loved? They spend whole centuries together, they knew each other for millennia.. Then why the fuck did he just disappear with no explanation after the night they spent on fucking? Did she suck his dick differently and he didn’t like it? Did he get bored of her pussy? Her tits got flat? But sex was not their whole relationship… They were friends… fuck it, they were best friends. Besties. They laughed at the same things and the same things made them sad. Best Friends Forever. Mokosz would not use world couple, because Sweeney… he liked to be… untied. He liked to be chased and this is what Mokosz always did. She chased him. Begged him on her knees. She called him her King. He loved it. Why he leave her?

         When Sweeney was sure Mokosz didn’t have any more weapons in her hands, he slowly got up. The gun she threw at him hit him right in the nose and now blood dripped onto his lips and chin. She had the appearance of a wild, hungry animal who smelled a little blood and was ready to jump at him and bite his face off, so he kept a safe distance between them. Sweeney raised his hands in a defensive gesture and stood on bent knees, ready to run away.

'What the fuck is your problem?!’ he finally asked half rhetorically, half serious.

'You left me! You just disappeared, as always, but never came back!’ Mokosz hadn’t moved even an inch near him, because now when she finally saw him in front of her, she knew, murder wasn’t an option. She will hug him like her life depended on it. She will smell his scent and feel home again.

'I never was your… 'He stopped for a second, probably to find a right word, and then laughed ’…boyfriend!'

'I know.’ Her voice cracks, and for a moment she looked like she was about to have a meltdown. 'But you were my friend, you egoistic, dumb piece of shit and just because you never loved me it doesn’t mean I never loved you, and your disappearance broke my heart and…'

'I never said I… I didn’t mean to…’ Sweeney took a deep inhale and, for a moment, he pressed his hands over his face. 'The world was changing, I had to make a lot of decisions I didn’t like and leaving you was one of them.'

'You could taken me with you if you did not want to leave me behind.'

'You had your worshipers in pagan lands, Mokosz. I couldn’t take that away from you.’

part 1/?