#it's become more clear with John's presence

[korrolrezni]

"A bleeding heart is only going to get us killed."

Oh how the turns have tabled.

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[sleepyjuice]

44 - maybe its raining n reader is walking to the chateau by herself so jj rushes out to meet her and walk her <3

When you texted jj 15 minutes ago that you were on your way to meet him, the skies were clear and it was beautiful out, so you decided to walk the 25 minute walk to the chateau instead of taking your bike.

That proved itself to be a horrible decision as shortly into your walk, you heard thunder rumbling in the distance and you looked up to see the sky was getting darker by the second.

You quickened your pace, your early afternoon stroll turning into more of a power walk, hoping you could make it in time to not get rained on.

It seemed as if your desire to not get rained on somehow triggered the rain to begin coming down just moments after your thought.

“Oh, fuck me.” You groaned to yourself, wrapping your arms around yourself as you began jogging now, your clothes and hair quickly becoming soaked as the rain poured down.

You had about ten minutes left before you would arrive at the chateau, yet it seemed like hours as you trudged through the nasty weather, your shoes sloshing as they filled with water.

“Yo! Babe!” A voice startled you through the sound of the rainfall hitting the ground, your head shooting over just down the street where jj was running towards you with an umbrella. Where the fuck did he get an umbrella?

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaked. Not in the good way.” jj said as he approached you, immediately holding the umbrella over your head, leaning into you to share it.

You rolled your eyes at his words, but your shoulders sagged in relief at his presence, utterly grateful he had come to rescue you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, gathering your hair to the side to wring out some of the water it had collected.

“Came to get ya. Knew you were walking and saw it started down pouring shortly after you left. I would’ve taken the Twinkie but John b has it.” He explained as you finally reached the chateau, hurrying onto the covered porch.

You shivered once the air conditioning hit you, wishing you had dressed appropriately for the rain and jealous of jj’s dry state.

“God, it’s freezing.” You sighed as you kicked your shoes and socks off, setting them on the porch to hopefully dry eventually.

jj wasted no time grabbing you a towel, wrapping it around your shoulders and rubbing it down your arms and your sides.

“My poor baby.” he cooed, drying off your exposed skin a bit more before he pulled you into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He helped you out of your clothes and you didn’t protest, allowing him to discard the wet clothing in the bathroom, leaving you naked in front of him. His eyes shamelessly scanned over your exposed body in front of him, admiring the sight, but he didn’t make any moves on you, knowing you were cold and uncomfortable. That could wait for later.

He finished drying you off, giving the top of your head a soft kiss before grabbing one of his shirts and a pair of basketball shorts he had, slipping the shirt over your head and handing you the shorts.

You sighed at the feeling of comfort, now being in dry clothing. Your hair was still a bit wet, but you had pulled it into a bun to deal with later.

“Thank you, jay.” You looked up at his gratefully, beyond appreciative of his actions. You would have been way worse off if he hadn’t gotten to you when he did.

“C’mere sweet girl.” He hummed, hands finding your waist as he pulled you down into his bed with him, his grip firm as he pulled you into his chest, your body curling into him immediately.

“Mm,” you hummed contently, “you’re so warm.” He grinned as you relaxed into him, his strong arms holding you close, hands gently massaging your back.

“Yeah? Thought that usually bugged you. What is it you say in the middle of the night? I’m a human furnace? That I heat up the whole bed?” He chuckled, referring to how hot he got when he slept, which inevitably would make you burn up as well.

“You are, you do,” you giggled, “but right now that’s exactly what I need.”

[lilacwants]

love is a bitch.

18+ notes: based on the recent poll, angst with a happy ending & gibson girl won for part 2!!! so enjoy the food <3. gif is from pinterest. summary: as echoes of the past resurface, Homelander confronts his longing for love amidst escalating tension. warnings: angst, mature/explicit content, rough! homelander. discretion is advised.

part 2. part 1.

Homelander stood at the edge of the balcony, looking out over the city that lay sprawled beneath him. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to temper the fire that raged within him. He had everything: power, adoration, and control. Yet, in the midst of it all, there was one thing he couldn't grasp, one thing that slipped through his fingers no matter how tightly he tried to hold on.

You.

You were his sanctuary, the only person who saw him for who he truly was beneath the mask. But lately, the tension between you had been growing, a simmering conflict that neither of you could ignore. And tonight, it had finally come to a head.

Homelander’s eyes scanned the horizon, his jaw clenched as he replayed the argument in his mind. Your words had cut deep, piercing through his carefully constructed facade. You had accused him of the thrill of power consuming him. And worst of all, you had said you couldn’t do it anymore.

He heard the soft click of the door behind him, and he knew it was you. He didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge your presence. Instead, he let the silence stretch out, a chasm between you.

“John,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of what you had come to say. “We need to talk.”

He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white. “What is there to talk about?” he replied, his voice cold and distant. “You made yourself perfectly clear.”

You stepped closer, your presence a mix of comfort and torment. “Please, just listen to me.”

He turned then, his blue eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. “Listen to what? More accusations? More of you telling me how I’m not good enough?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you stood your ground. “No, that’s not what I’m here to say. I’m here because...because I can’t lose you.”

For a moment, his anger faltered, replaced by a flicker of hope. But then he remembered the pain, the words that had cut him so deeply. “You already did,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You walked away.”

You reached out, your hand resting on his arm. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice breaking. “I was scared. Scared of what you were becoming, and scared of losing the man I love.”

His heart ached at your words, the conflicting emotions tearing him apart. “You think I wanted this?” he asked, his voice raw. “You think I wanted to become this...this thing?”

You shook your head, your tears falling freely now. “No, I don’t. But I know you’re still in there. The man who loved me, who cared for me. I see glimpses of him, and I can’t give up on that.”

He closed his eyes, the weight of your words pressing down on him. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice trembling with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“I want you,” you said simply. “All of you. The good, the bad, and everything in between. But you have to let me in.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and saw the depth of your love and pain. And for the first time, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way back.

Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, his grip tight as if he was afraid you might vanish if he let go. The feel of you against him, the warmth and softness of your body, stirred something deep inside him - something raw and primal.

"I can't lose you either," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His hands moved to your face, tilting it up so he could look into your eyes. "I need you."

You nodded, unable to tind the words, your heart pounding in your chest. The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming, a mix of anger, desperation, and something darker that made your pulse quicken.

He kissed you then, fiercely and possessively, as if he was trying to reclaim something that had been slipping away. You responded in kind, matching his fervor, your hands clutching at his suit, desperate to feel his skin.

In a flurry of movement, he had you pressed against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a need that bordered on violent.

You gasped as he tore at your clothes, his lips never leaving yours, the kiss deepening into something almost savage.

"You're mine," he growled against your mouth, his voice rough and commanding. "No one else gets to have you."

"Yes," you breathed, your own desire mingling with his. "Only you."

His eyes blazed with a fierce satisfaction at your words, and he wasted no time in taking what he needed. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You could feel his hard on pressing against you, the anticipation almost unbearable.

With a roughness that sent shivers down your spine, he thrust into you, the force of it driving a cry from your lips. He didn't pause, didn't give you time to adjust, his movements hard and unrelenting. It was as if he was pouring all his anger, his pain, and his love into each thrust, a desperate attempt to make you understand how much you meant to him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, the intensity of his possession driving you to the edge. Every sensation was heightened, the roughness of his touch, the heat of his body, the way he filled you completely. It was almost too much, a mix of emotions and physical need that threatened to consume you both.

"Fuck, I love you," he growled, his voice breaking. "I need you so fucking much."

"I love you too," you gasped, your words mingling with cries of pleasure. "Don't stop, please."

His pace quickened, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. The world narrowed down to the two of you, the raw connection that bound you together. You felt yourself nearing the edge, your body tightening, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

With a final, shuddering thrust, you came undone, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. He followed moments later, his own release tearing through him, his grip on you tightening as if he could somehow fuse you together.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, wrapped around each other, the intensity of the moment slowly fading into a profound sense of connection and peace. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were softer, the anger and desperation replaced by something gentler, more tender.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had gathered in his eyes. "I know," you whispered. "And I'm sorry too. We'll get through this, together."

He nodded, his forehead resting against yours. "Together," he agreed.

You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Together," you echoed, sealing the promise with a gentle kiss. The world outside might still be uncertain, but in that moment, you knew you had each other, and that was enough.

[iitslera]

Baby on the way : JJ Maybank x reader

Summary:  JJ and his girlfriend (reader named Grace) become young parents.

Warnings: English is not my first language (use of iphone translator), I don’t use y/n (reader is called Grace or Gigi as JJ calls her), Other than that, I think it’s pure fluff.

A/n: I’m receiving requests from JJ and Rafe, (im hoped to improve my level of English soon to stop using the iPhone translator) Based on S4 after buying the house from the bank, enjoy.

𖹭.ᐟ pt2

I held the test in my hands, with the words confirming what I had been feeling for days: Positive. That word seemed so small, but it carried an immense weight. My mind was in chaos. 

I didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or just stay silent until the world stopped spinning.  

How was I going to tell JJ? I couldn’t imagine his reaction, and that terrified me. We had been through so much together, but this was different. This was... too real.  

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to calm myself. The sound of the birds outside the house helped a little, though not enough.  

I walked toward the dock, hoping the salty breeze would clear the knot in my throat. I saw him from a distance, laughing with Pope and John B, as if the world were simple, as if nothing mattered more than the moment. For a second, I wished things could stay that way, uncomplicated. But then, JJ saw me.  

His smile slowly faded, and his expression turned serious. He knew me too well. He could tell something was wrong.  

When he reached me, I felt like I could barely breathe. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought he could hear it.  

“Is everything okay?” he asked, with that mix of concern and tenderness that always broke me. I shook my head because I knew I couldn’t lie to him, not this time.  

“You’re worrying me, Gigi…” he said, stepping closer.  

My hands trembled. I tried to stop them, to stay strong, but I couldn’t. I had to say it. There was no other choice. I took a breath, though it felt like I was running out of air, and finally, I let it out.  

“I’m pregnant…”

I said it so softly I almost didn’t hear myself, but he did. I saw it in his eyes. His expression changed in an instant. First, surprise, then confusion, and something else I couldn’t identify. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something like happiness, but it was clear he didn’t know what to feel either.  

“Are you... sure?”he asked, his voice trembling.  

“Yes… I’m sure. I took a test, and... it’s positive.”

When I finally dared to look at him, I found those blue eyes that had captured me from the beginning. This time, there was no trace of the confidence he usually projected. It was like he was as scared as I was. But then, something changed. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.  

“Wow…” he murmured, as if trying to find the right words. “This is unexpected, but… we’re in this together, right?”

The knot in my chest loosened a little, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. I didn’t know how we were going to face this or what it meant for us, but at least I wasn’t alone. JJ was here, and that was all I needed at that moment.  

I never thought JJ would be capable of transforming the way he did. Being young parents wasn’t something we had planned, but seeing him so committed and dedicated made me feel that, maybe, everything would be okay.

He made the hardest days more bearable, and even when I felt exhausted or sick, his presence always gave me strength.

Morning sickness became my constant enemy in the early weeks. Every morning I woke up with that nauseous feeling in my stomach, and although just the smell of food made it worse, JJ was there, patiently trying to get me to eat something.

He would wake up earlier than I did to prepare toast or crackers, whatever I could tolerate. He never complained, not even when I asked him to move anything with a smell I couldn't stand.

Today was a calm, sunny day. I sat in the porch hammock, enjoying a bit of peace as a book rested in my lap and the wind tousled my hair. My hands instinctively rested on my growing belly. I couldn’t help but think about the little life growing inside me. It was a strange and wonderful feeling all at once.

Suddenly, JJ appeared with a smile, holding a bag in his hand. As soon as I saw what was inside, I knew what it was: strawberries with cream. My favorite craving of the past few days. I laughed, surprised and grateful at the same time.

“Hi, beautiful”he said with that smile of his that always disarmed me. “I brought you your strawberries with cream.”

My eyes lit up when I saw him, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re the best, you know that?” I told him as I made space in the hammock for him to sit next to me.

JJ set the bag on my lap and sat beside me.

“Anything for you, babe” he replied, winking at me. “You and she deserve the best.”

“she?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, amused. “How do you know it’s going to be a girl?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I have a feeling” he said, with a confident smile. I laughed, both amused and surprised by his certainty.

“Now you can guess the baby’s gender too?“ I joked.

He simply smiled with that mischievous look he was known for, took a strawberry with cream, and brought it to my lips. I took a small bite, savoring the sweet flavor. It was so simple, yet so special.

“And what will you do if it’s a boy?” I asked with a playful smile as I chewed.

“Then I’ll have guessed wrong” he said, shrugging before bringing another strawberry to his mouth. “But I don’t think so. My intuition never fails me.”

“You’re impossible” I replied, laughing. “And if you’re right? What will we call her, if it’s a girl?”

JJ paused for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

“Kai”  he said, with a mix of excitement and tenderness. “It means ‘Sea’ in Hawaiian."

I felt something stir inside me when I heard that name. I repeated it softly, savoring its meaning, imagining our daughter and how it would feel to call her that.

“It’s perfect” I told him, with a smile I couldn’t hide.

At that moment, with the sun shining down on us and his presence beside me, I felt that despite the fears and doubts, we were building something beautiful. Kai. Our little Kai.

“What about you, little one? Do you like Kai?“ JJ asked with a smile, gently rubbing my belly. His voice was soft, as if he were already talking directly to her, as if they already shared a special bond.

And then, I felt it. Something moved inside me. It wasn’t the first time, but this time it was different, stronger, clearer. My breath caught for a moment, surprised by that small but powerful connection that reminded me our baby was there, growing, becoming a part of us.

JJ looked at me with wide eyes, surprised and excited at the same time.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, his tone full of awe. I nodded slowly, still processing the sensation.

“Yes... “  I murmured, my voice filled with emotion. He couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face. He placed his hand back on my belly, as if he expected to feel it too, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“It’s amazing...” he whispered, almost to himself, as his fingers traced small circles on my skin. “Our Kai... she’s already here, making herself known.”

Tears filled my eyes, but this time they weren’t out of fear or uncertainty. They were tears of pure happiness, of gratitude for this shared moment, for knowing that, despite everything, we were in this together.

JJ looked up and saw my teary eyes.

“Are you okay?“ he asked, his voice filled with concern for a second.

“Yes...” I replied with a smile I couldn’t contain. “It’s just that... all of this makes me feel that, really, everything is going to be okay.”

He hugged me, pressing his forehead against mine.

“ It’s going to be more than okay, Grace. We’re going to be an amazing team. You, me, and our little Kai”

And in that moment, with his hand still on my belly and the sensation of the baby moving inside me, I knew he was right. Everything would be okay.

We didn’t live in a huge house with hundreds of rooms in Figure Height, yet we put all our effort into making the place where the baby would sleep special. We started with the smallest details, choosing each object and color with such care, as if we were creating our own home within that space.

Our room, though not very big, was cozy and perfect for what we needed.

JJ was so involved in the process that he couldn’t stop commenting on the "perfect touches" he had chosen. We created a place where she could grow up surrounded by love and tranquility, and although it wasn’t easy to make decisions, every choice seemed to fall into place little by little.

Once we placed the crib next to our bed, we began working on the small details: soft white curtains that let in natural light, one of those crib mobiles with sea animals because JJ loved the idea of our baby growing up surrounded by those little marine touches, something that connected him to his own roots.

The shelves were filled with children's storybooks that Pope had given us, some soft toys, and several stuffed animals we had started collecting thanks to the rest of our friends.

Every time I walked into the room with all these new changes, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt like a dream come true. Everything was ready to welcome our little baby, a place filled with love and hope.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 7

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N:Sorry for not posting this part earlier! I’ve been sick all week but I’m finally functioning like a human again 🤭 you’ll see some references to what really happened in season 3, I just adapted it to this story. Anyways hope you enjoy it! 🥰 let me know in the comments xx

Word count: 3,964

Tommy felt his anger raising, but he needed to calm down and think.

Think straight, have a clear mind.

Father Hughes was the most irritating person on earth. He didn’t want him to be involved in his charity project, that man was far from being someone respectable and he only make him waste his time. Deep down, Tommy knew he must have a dark past, something that he did wrong… he just needed to find what was his weakness.

It was still early, but still he needed a drink. Taking a glass and a decanter, he poured himself some.

“Thomas.” Polly called from the door.

“I need you to take care of everything today, gotta go.”

“Where?”

“I’ve a meeting, will probably be back later tonight.” He took a long swing of his drink. “Arranged a meeting with Vicente Changretta, Arthur and John will be there.”

They needed to fix the relationship with the Italians, after burning down the restaurant. He already had enough trouble in his hands.

“Fine.” She looked at him intensely. “You know… I was talking to Lizzie yesterday.”

Tommy hummed unbothered.

“Has Y/N told you if Lizzie keeps pissing her off?”

“No. Why?” He moved to his desk to take a few things.

Polly shuddered, perhaps she understood Lizzie wrong, she seemed to feel embarrassed and refused to say anything else to her.

“She’s jealous.” Polly ran her fingers through her hair. “She thought Y/N’s baby was yours.”

Tommy’s head snapped towards his aunt. His eyes had closed in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“Look, I’m not judging her, and you shouldn’t either.” Polly gave him a knowing glance, se had talked to the secretary and she seemed to be having a change of heart.

“She told me she’s willing to do anything to get you to trust her once more.”

Pondering on Polly’s words, Tommy thought for a couple of seconds. “Anything eh? Alright… she’s going to help us clean the mess she made.”

He’d try to push Lizzie’s buttons just to make sure how far she could go. The sudden change could’ve a reason behind.

Now it was Polly’s turn to squint her eyes. “What are you thinking of?”

“She’s going to break up this absurd romance with Angel Changretta. Very peacefully.”

“Isn’t that too much to ask?” She asked cautiously.

“Explain to Lizzie how life works, no matter what Angel says, he’ll always remind her of her past. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll always have her desk available here as a secretary, but if she keeps this going, I’m going to be her worst nightmare.” He warned right before storming out his office.

First he’d stop by to pay Ada a visit, then off to the meeting with the Russian royalty.

***

Y/N thanked the two men carrying the last piece of furniture into the office, they previously brought in the small desk and chairs, the bookshelf and a file cabinet.

In the corner of the room, she kept a box full of folders, sheets and other office supplies she would distribute among the classrooms. Most of her days have been busy organizing the storage and after a while it seemed to be presentable.

“Miss Y/N Y/LN?” The gardener called, getting her attention. “Your presence is required outside.”

“Oh! Sure.”

The Shelby Institute might open its doors any moment now, she thought as she strolled through the long hall, her shoes clacked against the floor, the daily walks around the institute made her keep in a good shape, because her belly was becoming more prominent day by day, of course she got out of breath anyways.

“We just need you to check if it’s the right color.” Paul asked pointing at the wall.

Tommy made sure to hire Small Heath people, purchasing all the material from local and small businesses, he felt this urge to help as much as possible because he couldn’t stop thinking given different circumstances, it would be him instead of them struggling with money, not having enough in their pockets to feed their family.

“This looks amazing, thank you for all the hard work you’re doing.” Y/N praised.

It wasn’t her place to supervise, but Tommy officially let her decide everything that was needed; from the color, decoration, even the personnel. He just kept signing cheques.

“Am I still on time to enroll my children? Could you ask Mr. Shelby, Miss Y/LN?”

“Yes of course you can! Bring me the papers tomorrow morning and the authorization.”

It was Tommy’s wish, to help as much people as possible.

The man gave her an embarrassed glance. “I don’t want them to be like me, I want them to have an education.” He added with melancholy.

“There’s nothing wrong to work in construction Billy,” Y/N encouraged. “But it’s admirable that you want them to be better.”

“That wouldn’t be possible without Mr. Shelby’s generosity.”

Y/N smiled at him but before she could step inside the building again, she noticed a car parking behind. Squinting her eyes because of the sun, she could barely tell who was that.

“Is this the Institution that runs that gang leader?” The man asked, judging by his attire he was a priest, but there was some off about him that said otherwise.

An uneasy feeling made Y/N take a step back, she covered her bump with the folders in her hands in a protective motion.

“Who’s asking?”

Tommy would be the last person on earth to have something to do with a priest.

The man looked her up and down, giving her a nasty and dirty stare.

“Tell him I’ll supervise this place, once it’s open.”

When he left, his vehicle made a cloud of dust. He didn’t ask politely, no, he pretended to be in charge of the charity.

Y/N walked inside the Institute again, making a mental note to add a room for the children to read, and they might need a fountain in the patio. She chuckled to herself, realizing she started to sound like Tommy.

No long after honking loudly, Tommy announced his presence, Y/N saw him behind the window as he was strolling towards her.

“Pick up your stuff, we’re going.” He announced.

“Where?”

“Somewhere, don’t ask.”

Y/N frowned. “I’ve to ask, it’s going to be midday, there’s things that need to be done.”

Tommy stepped into her office, looking for her coat and handbag.

“Yeah I pay you a ridiculous amount of money it’s about time you hire an assistant.” He said with a wink.

“An assistant of an assistant. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.” She added, Tommy noticed she crossed her arms, not pleased by his interruption, she was always doing what she had to do and don’t you dare to move something from her things-to-do-list.

“It’s something good, trust me.”

“Can I ask where are we going?” Y/N asked enjoying the wind in her face.

“No.”

“What’s with all this secrecy?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to tell me no.”

“Well, you better include food because the baby is getting hungry.” Y/N smiled at her bump, while her hands caressed in a circle motion. Day by day she was getting fond of her baby.

“Oh I was counting you’d say that, lately you’re demanding more and more food.” He added in a light mood.

“Polly says I need to eat for two.” Y/N defended.

Tommy chuckled and in a blink, he was gone. He literally stormed into the library.

The little information she managed to get was that now she was reading out loud for Tommy a book about Russians that ran away from the revolution and opted to live exiled and from the Crown’s charity. Tommy assured her that way was practical.

Parking later after in front of a couple of shops, but she still knew so little about what was behind Tommy’s requests.

“I’ve a meeting around, it should be quick,” he explained helping Y/N out of the car, “but I thought it might be good if you start searching for some baby furniture, eh?”

“Tommy…” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“And don’t even start saying you don’t have money, I promised your grandma to look after the two of you, and that includes the things the baby will need.” Tommy used her shocked state to practically drag her inside the store, wining the argument way before it could start. “Hello, we would like to check out a moses, a rocking chair, a drawer…”

Y/N stared at him silently, Tommy thought of everything and even though his generosity wasn’t a surprise, it still came out of the blue, catching her off guard.

“Would you like us to open an account?” Asked the perplexed sales woman.

“Yes,” Tommy answered eyeing a catalog. “Everything she wants, a lamp, the carpet, the sheets… just put it into my account.” He handled a card with his company name and address. “Pick you up in about an hour?”

Y/N nodded, still trying to process everything.

“Leave something for the rest of the costumers ey!” Tommy shouted from the door before disappearing.

The woman started swooning immediately. “I hope the baby will get his eyes.” The woman admitted with a blush.

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her and tell her that Tommy wasn’t the father, but she closed it instead, remembering the advise her grandmother shared with her; don’t explain your situation to people you don’t know, let them believe their assumptions even if it’s incorrect. It will save you of uncomfortable explanations.

So Y/N gave the sales woman an awkward smile and followed her to the back of the store, this moment would arrive sooner or later and she was already here.

“We can make any piece you want in a variety of colors, there’s a trunk in the corner that goes well with this dresser…”

“Let me bring the fabric catalog for the carpets.” Added another woman, they obviously wanted to make a juicy sale.

Y/N felt like she was walking on a cloud, the smile on her face couldn’t get bigger. And now, she was the one swooning over the furniture, her imagination taking her to unknown places with images of her rocking her baby to sleep, or taking a look through the canopy at a small bundle of joy.

An excited gasp escaped her lips when she landed her eyes on a crib mobile. Her heart did this flip inside her chest and she could hardly hide her emotions.

“Should we add it?” The expert eye of the sales woman noticed her excitement. “Your baby will be fascinated and spend hours staring at it.”

The mobile had a handmade star and a sheep, a fluffy cloud and a small sun. It was adorable, she couldn’t wait for her baby to be born to use everything.

Y/N was allowed to sit on the rocking chairs to see which one felt more comfortable and the women showed her a few combinations to create a whole set of dresser, a small wardrobe, a bedside table and also the different colors they had to offer. The more she looked, the more confused she felt because everything was beautiful! She had never had the chance to purchase furniture, since her house was filled with her grandma’s possessions.

A fond memory of her grandmother knitting a blanket for one of her sisters filled her mind, her parents didn’t have enough money to buy fancy furniture, so they used a basket as a crib, she was just a girl but she remembered it clearly.

Both women shared endless recommendations for her baby arrival, and Y/N felt extremely grateful and was willing to take every little thing that could be helpful.

As she flicked another page of the catalog, she wondered how long would it take Tommy to pick her up, then her thoughts wandered towards her sister Lee-Anne, the last time she saw her, it was the day her father hit her. They couldn’t meet because their parents where so strict now, after what happened, they were trying to move under the radar according to her grandmother. There were so many things she wanted to tell Lee-Anne, firstly assure her that she was alright, she didn’t need to worry, then when the time is right, she would explain everything to her, so the younger girl wouldn’t make the same mistake as her.

Not that she thought her baby was a mistake, no. Those are two separate things. But the circumstances it’s what was wrong, she was aware that not all women had a Tommy Shelby around the corner to selflessly take care of everything.

If only she knew then, she’d do it differently.

“Y/N?” A gentle voice called for her, something squeezed her arm slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open and Y/N looked around confused.

“You fell asleep.” Tommy pointed out.

“It happens all the time.” The sales woman gave her a small glance. “We didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Goodness.” Y/N felt embarrassed and mortified, she felt tired.

“So, I think you found the perfect rocking chair then.” Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“We’ll have everything delivered in a couple of weeks.” Her smile couldn’t get bigger.

Thanking them, Tommy and Y/N stepped outside the boutique, she wanted to stretch her legs so bad.

“How did your meeting go?”

“Boring.”

He always had just a few words to say. But his eyes, said everything that was crossing his mind.

“Did you get to drink vodka and do the Russian dance?” Y/N teased.

Tommy scoffed at her sense of humor.

“He’s a liar, a buffer. He’s just a filthy lucky bastard with the right connections.”

He sighed loudly, but at least Tommy was sharing something with her. In that case it would be so easy for him to make that man show his true colors.

As he started the engine, Y/N started telling him of all the adorable things they showed her at the store, noticing the way her eyes were glowing. And he obviously preferred that kind of news instead of the one Polly was about to share.

“I’ll wait here by the fireplace.” Y/N announced, not wanting to get in the middle of the argument.

Sitting in one of the couches, she leaned her head back, rolling her feet meanwhile a few steps away, the Shelby family were discussing over whatever John had made.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again…” Y/N heard Tommy say as she was drifting away to sleep. But she was far too gone and tired.

Feeling drained after all the things he got busy with, Tommy couldn’t wait to be home.

“You can stay over so you don’t have to drive back.” He proposed to his brother Finn, who would be driving.

But as Tommy stepped into the entry, he stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on Y/N. She was peacefully sleeping on the couch, the flames of the fireplace casting shadows over her features while one of her hands rested under her belly.

He didn’t have the heart to wake her up.

“Bring the car around.” He whispered Finn, trying to concede Y/N a few more minutes before starting the road back home.

Taking off his coat, he slid it over her frame to cover her from the cold. Tommy tried to call her in a low voice, but she only adjusted her shoulder as answer. Y/N should probably take things easier, but she was adamant to finish the charity project, she was pouring every fiber of her soul into it and wanted to make sure every single detail was perfect.

“Y/N… let’s go.” Tommy tried again softly.

Fluttering her eyes, she slowly opened them squinting in confusion by feeling Tommy touching her shoulder.

“C’mon let me help you.”

“Hmm.” She hummed barely cooperating.

She was beyond sleepy by the time they reached the car, settled taking the back seat by herself, she heard the Shelby brothers talking something about an Italian pub and a fight that would eventually happen. Tommy mentioned something about their fragile ego and sending flowers to a hospital, but Y/N couldn’t be sure because maybe it was part of her dream.

She moved across the room, smashing the fresh berries for the pie she was baking, the lovely smell feeling the small kitchen, it was a sunny day and she could hear the birds chirping, when suddenly a baby cry came to her attention. Y/N rushed then to get pick up her baby who was demanding her presence.

“It’s just fine, are you hungry?” She cooed to settle the lovely bundle wrapped in a blanket.

“How’s my ray of sunshine?” Asked her grandmother from behind, reaching over to caress the baby’s face.

“Woke up hungry.”

“You feed the baby while I finish the pie.”

When the car took a turn Y/N’s bumped something, she woke up disoriented.

“Finally I was tired of you snoring.” Tommy teased taking at look over his shoulder.

“Oh my God I don’t snore!”

“Loud and clear.” Tommy assured her. “Like a truck driver.”

Y/N gave Tommy a surprised and embarrassed look, awkwardly she tried to fix her hair since it was out of place.

Finn rushed upstairs while Mary greeted them by the door.

“Something important came up?” Tommy asked the maid.

“Just a few letters.” She gave him a nod.

“Oh, and maybe a couple of responses to the charity invitation.” Y/N wondered out loud.

“All correspondence arrived under Mr. Shelby’s name.” The maid explained, making a bit obvious that she wasn’t very fond of Y/N.

Y/N looked between Tommy and Mary, waiting.

“Go on, go check the mail.” He told her softly.

“Mr. Shelby.” Mary tried to get his attention. “The mailman thinks Miss Y/LN is Mrs. Shelby, he asked me if Mrs. Shelby had anymore invites to send off.” The maid voiced with concern.

Tommy noticed the offended tone in her voice.

“Let him think whatever he wants, Mary.” Tommy shuddered, not thinking it was important. “As long as he takes the mail.”

“But…” she tried again, then closed her mouth when Tommy gave her the look.

“That’s all, thank you Mary.” Tommy dismissed her just as Y/N entered the reading room skipping happily.

“Guess!”

Sitting, Tommy groaned. “Guess what?”

“He said yes!” Y/N explained excitedly.

“Who?” He chuckled at her happiness.

“He leader of the Birmingham City Council is going to attend the dinner.” Y/N showed him the letter back. “Everyone has said yes.”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the piece of paper, towards Y/N.

“Ah.” Suddenly she got the energy of a kid, it was the nap during the car ride did wonders to her.

“I keep changing the menu, do you think we should offer something else?” Y/N kept explaining how she needed to send a Thank you note back to the people who had confirmed their attendance.

The charity was clearly an excellent job for her. Keeping her busy with something good whilst helping people in need and he was glad to have someone he could trust to take care of that.

“You need to remember to take this slowly, write off those notes tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.” He suggested.

“But Tommy, these things can’t wait, it takes days for the letters to be delivered and-”

“Very well then, why don’t you use the typewriter I gave you.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

“Tom!” She chuckled. “You don’t write letters of a social occasion on a typewriter.” Y/N explained him with a smile.

“Oh, forgive me.” He raised his eyebrows.

She then went on to show him another paper. “I’ve the drawings of what they plan to do with the grounds of the institute. There’ll be an area for the children to play. Look.” He hummed in response. “And the Birmingham Charity Commission have agreed to set aside their three rotten floorboards upstairs and grant us the license within a month.”

She finally took a deep breath after managing to explain him all in record time. There was a soft smile playing on his lips and she found tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re not listening to me.” Y/N sentenced.

Tommy leaned forwards. “Yes I am. I am.”

“You think I’m becoming obsessed?” Y/N stopped abruptly.

A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips. “No, as a matter of fact, I love the passion you’ve put into this project.”

“This wouldn’t be possible without you.” Y/N expressed honestly.

Tommy gave Y/N a long look, studying her features, until he finally spoke.

“I’ve something for you.” Y/N frowned confused. “I know you’ll say it’s a bit too much, but still.”

“What did you get?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Close your eyes.” Tommy encouraged.

“Tom.”

He fixed his eyes on her, not taking a no for as answer. So she gave in, turned around and closed her eyes.

Leaning back, Tommy got something out of his pocket, holding the chain between both hands, he presented Y/N the present.

Y/N felt lost for words when she saw the necklace. “What’s this?”

“A sapphire.” He explained calmly.

The cold stone sent a shiver down her spine when it made contact with her skin. It felt heavy and strange to have a stone that bug hanging from her neck.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“A simple thank you could work.” He winked. “And before you even start, you can either wear it or keep it in the box it’s your choice.”

Y/N was still trying to process the overpriced present, never in a million years she imagined to own something like that piece of expensive jewelry.

“This is insane, but thank you.” She chuckled nervously. “Where am I even supposed to wear something like this? The charity event?”

“You can wear it to church if you want, it’s yours Y/N.”

“Goodness.” She looked down at her chest and touched the cold gemstone. “You really look for any excuse to show off your wealth, damned bastard.”

Tommy laughed loudly. “You got me.”

“I wanted to ask you to be my baby’s godfather… but you’re going to spoil the poor child.”

“Oh I think I earned that right, so you better keep considering me.”

She slapped his arm playfully, earning another laugh from him. Tommy pulled her by the arm but the sharp move caught her off guard and made her loose her balance, landing on his chest. His arms came around her waist instantly in a protective motion, and their laughs subsided as soon as they realized how close they were to each other’s faces.

Something they both didn’t know how to name ignited in that moment, suddenly her warm hands felt like burning through the layers of his clothes, his deep blue sparkled in a way she had never seen before.

Struggling to form a coherent thought, Y/N used his chest to support her arms and move back. Tommy cleared his throat just as he was trying to clear his mind.

“Sorry… I stumbled.” She tried to smooth her clothes.

“Yeah.” He noticed the blush on her cheeks.

“Better go to get s-some rest.” The words rushed out of her lips. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He replied more to himself, watching her leave the room.

Taking the remains of his drink in a swing, Tommy thought how close they were of crossing a line that would change everything.

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[abellalu]

A Night Unexpected (One-Shot)

Summary: A hard-working lab researcher encounters Loki during a late night working and can not help, but feel captivated by him. However, when the researcher agrees to go on a date with her brash co-worker, Loki ends up saving the day (or at least the date). Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader Word Count: 2.6k

The lab was quiet except for the light hum of the machines. During the day, the lab could feel like it would burst from the noise with all the scientists working on their projects and yelling over the music that Tony Stark insists is required for inventing. Everyone else had already gone home for the night, and now it was just you sitting at your station.

You heard the door squeak and a light footstep. When you turned around, you expected to see another one of your coworkers coming back to retrieve a forgotten item, but instead were greeted by a different presence, Loki. 

“I expected you might be in here,” Loki said, illuminated by only the light in the hallway. Despite the darkness of the lab, you could still see the sharp angles of his face and his gentle smile to you. 

“I suppose I have become predictable,” you laugh quietly. “I just enjoy being able to have some time to myself and thoughts, away from all the chaos.”

“I apologize for interrupting your thoughts. What are you working on now that requires you here so late?”

“It’s not that late Loki, it’s only-” you look at the clock, “I suppose the time got away from me again.”

He laughs and slowly sits down on the stool next to you. “You are very dedicated to your work, I-” he pauses, “It’s admirable how much care you put into the things you love.” 

You look up at him, stunned by what he just said. Your mouth is slightly agape as you try to think of a response. Does he truly think I’m admirable? This is a man who works with the Avengers, who helped save Asgard. Eventually you close your mouth and look down at your work, so Loki continues.

“Tell me more about what you’re working on,” He said with a smile, eyes looking at you with anticipation.

“Are you sure? I tend to ramble and I can get distracted easily.” You laugh pitifully. “I might bore you to death from my talking.”

“I don’t think so, I think you- I mean, your work is quite captivating and I don’t mind rambling.” 

You stare at him for a second, then clear your throat, “Well, I did make a discovery with the sample I was studying…” 

The next morning, you can not stop your mind from wandering back to your conversation with Loki. You’ve always had a different perspective of him than many others. While others saw him as cold and distant, you saw how curious he was, the remarkable intelligence he had. Every conversation you had with him, he showed genuine interest and kindness towards you. 

However, last night, Loki showed admiration for not just your work but for you as a person. In the dark lab, the conversation felt more intimate, and you made yourself more vulnerable to another person than you have for a long time. 

But then doubt starts. What if he was simply being polite? It is hard to wrap your mind around the idea that someone like Loki could truly care about you and not judge for being overly passionate.

As you continued to walk to the lab, you heard someone call your name behind you. While turning around, you feel your heart longing for it to be Loki. But when you look back, you see your coworker John. 

He was nice to work with. He generally completed all his research in a timely manner and he had a contagious laugh that always lifted the spirits of the lab even after tiring days. Yet, you still had to hide your disappointment with a polite smile. 

“Hello John, did you need something?” 

“I just wanted to say hi and see how you were doing.” His hands are in his pockets and he shows off his wide white smile. “It’s rare I get to catch you outside of the lab, I wanted to take advantage of this moment.” 

“Oh, well I’ve just been working on my research and I have made some interesting discoveries and I-” 

“You work too hard,” John interrupts. “What do you like to do outside of work?” 

You pause, while certainly your work isn’t your entire life, you care deeply about your research. Does Loki think I’m odd? “Um well, I like-” 

“See this is what I’m talking about, you gotta explore life outside of the lab.” You stare at him considering what he said.

John continues, “Listen, I will be quite frank. I think you are beautiful and I’m hoping you can take some time away from the lab and go out to dinner with me.”

“Oh,” You are thrown off guard by his request. Sure John was always nice, but you never expected him to have any interest in you. 

But maybe you should take advantage of the opportunity. It has been awhile since you’ve been asked out and maybe John was right, you need to spend some time away from the lab.

You hesitate, but finally you take a deep breath, “Yes, I would love to.” You force yourself to give him another smile.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” John walks closer to you, instantly you feel as though your space is being invaded. “How about tomorrow night then? I’m excited to see you outside of this compound, see you all dressed up.” He smirks.

“Alright, sounds good.” You look away from him and quicken your pace as you continue on to the lab. It’s good to get outside of your comfort zone, this is good for you, you keep reminding yourself.

Around the corner, Loki overhears your conversation with John. 

Loki never liked John, he reminded him too much of Thor before he got sent to Earth. He can tell you’re uncomfortable from the way you make yourself smaller and your voice being only slightly louder than a whisper.

Loki can’t stop the pang of hurt he feels when he hears you say “yes.” He knows he shouldn’t feel it, that the two of you are barely even friends and you can go and date whoever you like. Still, he wishes that you did not feel pressured to agree, he wishes that he was the one to ask you first. 

All he can hope is that John treats you well.

Loki doesn’t know why he is walking past the lab. He knew you wouldn’t be there tonight, that you would be busy with your date. He grimaces just thinking about it. Loki knows that he is jealous. Jealous that John gets to spend time with you, to hear you laugh. 

But he will keep that jealousy to himself if it means you being happy.

The door is open to the lab and Loki can hear the clattering of tools. That’s peculiar, no one ever works this late. No one except one. Curious, Loki sticks his head through the doorway, only to find the person he least expects. 

“John, what are you doing here,” Loki demands. He tried to keep his voice level. John shouldn’t be here, he should have already left for your date. 

“Ah shit, Loki you scared me,” John grunts. “I had a project I needed to finish before Stark gets on my ass about it, so now I’m stuck here.”

“Shouldn’t you be on your date?” Loki wonders if maybe it was canceled, that you were simply having a night in away from this imbecile man. 

“I know it sucks, I’ll text her later telling her what happened. She’ll understand since she can be such a workaholic freak sometimes.” 

Any composure Loki was then gone, he felt his fists tighten as he stared John down, “You don’t tell her that you would make it.” Loki’s voice is just below a yell, John flinches. “And how dare you call her a freak, she is more dedicated to her work then anyone else here and she should be praised for it. But you,” Loki says gravelly, slowly getting closer to John. “You feel as though you can belittle her for it. And as if you weren’t wasting her time enough by asking for a date, you didn’t even bother to show up”

“Listen, I was planning on showing up,” John trembles. “Work just got the best of me and I gotta stay here for the night. She won’t mind being alone, I chose a nice restaurant too.”

Alone. You are alone right now. 

Loki realizes he needs to change that ultimately. John is a later problem, he can deal with him later. Loki quickly runs out of the room with a plan.

There you are, at a restaurant you can’t afford and far more uptight than you prefer. The lighting is low, but instead of feeling relaxed like when you turn down the lights in the lab, you just feel anxiety.

John hasn’t arrived yet. Your leg is bouncing up and down, as you try to calmly look for him. To see if he is lurking in any of the shadows. 

You had left work early today, well early for you, to have time to get ready. You searched through your closet trying to find something acceptable for the date (eventually you found an old pencil dress you had bought for a grad school reception) and pulled your hair up into a tight updo. 

As you sat at your table, you continued to watch more couples sit down and their orders be taken. You check your phone, he is 20 minutes late. Well that it isn’t too late I guess, maybe I was just too early. 

And so you continue to wait. You want for a man you don’t even care for and who likely doesn’t care about you simply because he made you uncomfortable. He made you feel as though he was your only option.

But then you see a man weaving through the crowd, mumbling quick apologies. Was John always so tall? 

Loki. Loki came.

As he gets closer, you can see his raven black hair is a mess with curls in all different directions. He is wearing a white button down with slacks and a blazer. Such a formal outfit looks natural on him.

“I’m so sorry,” Loki says as he sits down across from you. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

“Loki, what are you doing here? I’m supposed to be,” he cuts you off.

“Slight change of plans, you came here to have dinner with your date. Only the date has changed, simply as that.” Loki settles into his seat and starts looking at the menu as though there was nothing odd about the situation.

“Loki, you can’t be serious,” you sigh. “Listen, John is going to be here any moment, this isn’t funny.” God, you are so tired of this day. You just want to go home and be by yourself. Screw going outside of your comfort zone. 

“I am being serious.” Loki looks directly at you. For a moment, you wish to look away, but you can’t help staring at his blue eyes. “Unlike that idiot man who originally was going to be here, I’ll admit he was clever to ask you out, I should have done it first. But he was always just going to take advantage of your time whether he came or not.”

You froze, your mind could not comprehend what Loki just said to you. You should ask about why John isn’t here. But all thoughts and questions are just about Loki. “What do you mean you should have done it first?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, I wished I asked you to go on a date with me first.” He leans forward. “When I am in the same room as you, I am constantly astonished by you. The way you speak with such passion,” he smiles sadly. “The way you are always kind to me, I don’t deserve your kindness. I think that’s the reason why I’ve avoided asking you to spend more time with me. It’s silly though because then I just ended up always walking by the lab late at night, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

“And I was always there.” You give him a soft smile. “I think you are too hard on yourself, all the kindness I’ve shown you, you deserve. Just look at what you’ve done for me tonight. You showed up. If anything I don’t deserve your kindness, I shouldn’t be surprised John didn’t show up-”

“You’re wrong,” he laughs softly. “Maybe we are both too hard on ourselves. All I know is that you are an intelligent, thoughtful, and beautiful woman.” You feel your cheeks get warm and try to resist a smile. “I just hope I can be good company for the night.” Loki gives you a shy smile, only now you realize that he is just as nervous as you about making a good impression.

You take his hand resting on the table into yours and give him a gentle squeeze, “I know you will be more than good company.”

You and Loki are walking side-by-side, your arms occasionally lightly touching each other. After you shivered when a particularly cool breeze passed by, Loki gave you his jacket. The sidewalk was mostly dark except for the shine of the lamps and the moon.

The walk back to your apartment took much longer than it should have, but you didn’t care. If the two of you took the wrong corner a couple of times, so be it. During your dinner, the two of you talked and laughed the entire time. But now you are walking in a comfortable silence just feeling comforted by the other’s presence. 

Eventually though, all good things come to an end and you reach the entrance of your apartment building.

You look up at him and break the silence, “This is where I live.” 

“Oh, I see,” Loki says quietly. “I’m glad I could get you home safely.”

You smile, “I’m glad too. Thank you, not just for walking me home, but for everything. I truly enjoyed the evening with you. I think it all worked out better than I could have imagined.”

Loki nods his head gently, the corner of his mouth raising slightly. You see him rock on the heels of his feet. Slowly, the two of you move closer together. Loki leans down, staring at your lips, but eventually his lips land on your cheek giving you an affectionate peck. 

You can’t help, but laugh. 

Loki looks at you puzzled, “What is it?” 

“Oh, nothing.” you say before rising to stand on your tiptoes and catch his mouth with your lips. For a moment, he stands there shocked, but eventually relaxes. His hands gently hold the side of your face. 

When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. He tries to hold back a boyish laugh, but once you start to laugh again with him, he can’t resist it anymore; the happiness he feels.

You don’t know how long it takes for you to separate from him, occasionally one of you giggles under your breath. Eventually, you walk to the door of your apartment building with an extra skip in your step.

“I’m keeping your jacket,” you smile coyly. “You can get back eventually, as long as you take me out on another date.” 

“Deal.”

[frudoo]

Bells Ring (4)

Title: Five String Serenade

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Warnings: Food consumption, body image, awkward interactions. Calm before the storm.

MDNI

The first sight you’re greeted by in the morning is the nurse with a tray of breakfast in her hands—a spread of bread, butter and jams, a heaping bowl of thick porridge, a large china plate full of sausages, fried eggs, bacon, and mushrooms, and an assortment of fresh fruits to fill the unsightly gaps. For the first time in days, your stomach rumbles with hunger rather than displeasure, and you graciously accept the tray from her hands. It’s a rarity that you’re able to enjoy a meal in the luxury of your own chambers, away from the judging eyes that stare with pity or disgust when you eat, like you're going to come after their plates too.

The food has become lukewarm but it tastes just as good, a multitude of flavors bursting on your tongue. There’s a cup of tea to wash it all down, fixed up perfectly, to your surprise. Perhaps one of the maids you’ve acquainted with had observed the way you always made it and passed that tidbit on to the cook. Heaven knows your husband wouldn’t bother to do anything for your benefit.

You’re about midway through breakfast when there’s a loud, confident succession of three knocks on your door. It’s not Ewan, that much you know—he would just come straight in without any formalities. It’s not the maids or the nurse, and it’s most certainly not the queen, so who-?

“Mah sincerest apologies for intrudin’. May ah enter?” King MacTavish steps just past your door timidly, wide blue eyes uncertain whether or not you’ll accept his presence.

Your eyebrows raise nearly to your hairline, and you scramble to set the tray aside. You climb out from beneath the duvet and grimace when you realize you’re just in your nightgown, awkwardly curtsying.

“A-apologies, Your Majesty, I was not expecting you, or I would have-”

“Nae formalities, hen, please. Ah ken ye were no' prepared tae see me,” John holds his hands up to calm your ranting, a small grin curling at the corners of his mouth.

You stand from your bowing position, fingers awkwardly fiddling with one another. You’re not sure what he wants with you, or if it’s even proper for him to be here, formally or informally. The king clears his throat and you gasp softly, realizing you had never answered him.

“Oh! Pl-please, do come in,” you hurry, moving to sit on the edge of your bed and inviting him to do the same.

John hesitates before sitting on the bed beside you, making sure to keep a comfortable distance between the two of you. He wipes his clammy palms on his trouser-clad thighs, sniffing before he finally gathers the words to speak.

“Ah should hope breakfast was tae yer likin’?” He questions softly, gesturing to the large tray that sits just behind you on top of your mattress. “Ah made sure Lottie fixed yer tea, since she… since ye’re around her most.”

You furrow your eyebrows—King MacTavish was the one who sent you the meal? You had assumed it was standard, but then again, it was the first time you’d been offered breakfast since your little breakdown started nearly a week ago.

“Yes, it was perfect, sir. I thank you very kindly,” you respond, a bit stunned. “I mus-”

“Ah suppose-”

You clasp your hands together in embarrassment for trying to speak at the same time, lowering your head. John coughs a bit then clears his throat once more, gesturing for you to continue.

“Apologies, Your Majesty, I was simply wondering, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” You recover, still not quite ready to meet his eye.

“Reit. Ah jus’ wanted tae see how ye’re feelin’, s’all.”

How are you feeling? With his words you realize you have not had the chance to evaluate your emotional state as of this morning. John frowns at your hesitance, cautiously reaching out to place a hand atop both of yours, which continue to fidget mindlessly in your lap. Your brows furrow and you stiffen, but make no effort to pull away from him. He’s warm, and his presence is comforting. You had not realized how much you’d missed the touch of a man—it almost feels foreign.

“I… I suppose I am alright, for now,” you murmur, bashfully meeting his eyes.

King MacTavish really is a handsome sight—those beautiful oceans of deep sapphire that seem to stare right into your very being, the dark, shaggy hair that curls at the back of his neck, perfectly tanned skin from years of being out in the sun. Although his beard is tinged with streaks of white hair, it does not age him, rather proves his wisdom and elegance. Even the gold earring that adorns his left earlobe suits him flawlessly. It is apparent where Ewan got his charming stature from.

“Ah am pleased tae hear it,” John grins, but it is not a gesture of relief.

There is a sadness in his eyes you had not seen until this very moment, and it makes your heart ache with pity. The last thing you want is for another to feel the pain, the unrest that resides in yourself. You readjust your hands so that they hold the one of his that had come out to comfort you. The man’s breath catches in his throat as he glances down at the bundle of hands, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly when he meets your eyes once again.

“Is there something more, Your Highness?” Your voice is gentle, unsure, and it makes John’s expression soften.

“Ah think ye are quite the lovely lass, hen. It is unfortunate tha’ the prince cannae see it,” John says empathically, standing from your bed. “Ah ken wha’ a heartache it is tae be betrayed.”

You frown at the implication. Has the queen not been loyal to him? It’s almost hard to believe, with the way John seemed to nearly worship the ground on which she walked—although it has been a while since you were able to do much more than mope, let alone observe the state of another’s marriage. Still, with someone as thoughtful as John, it nearly pains you to think anyone could betray him so.

“Ah shuid leave ye be,” he concludes, a neutral, polite smile on his face.

“Right, yes. O-of course,” you smile back, standing from your bed as well to give him a proper curtsy. “I, erm… thank you, once more, for the breakfast. It was very kind of you.”

“Anything fer ye, lass,” he responds, and with that, exits your bedchambers.

You’re not sure how someone so sweet could have aided in creating a creature so bitter.

Taglist: @variety-fangirl @bingoz @thevoiceinyourheadx @gazsluckyhat

[lick-me-lennon22]

Beatles X ADHD!Reader Headcanons

(Hello, everyone!! I apologize for the short hiatus, I've been going through a lot following my 21st birthday as well as some family/work troubles. I also want to give a happy, happy 84th birthday full of peace and love to the one and only Richard Starkey!!! ☮️💞☮️💞☮️💞 As always, please let me know if anything in this post comes across as offensive or insensitive, and take what resonates with you :) I'm glad to be back and hope you all enjoy this post!!)

John

John is intrigued by your unique perspective and view of the world

He admires your creativity and often finds inspiration in your spontaneous ideas

He encourages you to channel your energy into your passions - whether it's music, art, or any other creative pursuit

John understands that you may struggle with focus at times and offers gentle reminders or helps you create strategies to stay organized

He'll support you through restless nights by staying up and chatting with you, plagued by his own insomnia, and helps you get your energy out

He also understands that you may thrive in an environment that may seem chaotic to others, but embraces the unpredictability and encourages you to express yourself freely without fear of judgement

John greatly values your honesty and openness about your challenges

He shares his own vulnerabilities and struggles with you, creating a bond built on mutual understanding and support

He enjoys engaging in deep conversations with you, exploring different topics and learning from your point of view

You two often have late-night chats that range from philosophical discussions to whimsical flights of fancy

He appreciates your ability to jump from topic to topic, finding it refreshing and inspiring

John absolutely loves to collaborate with you on creative projects, whether it's writing songs together or brainstorming ideas for new ventures

Your spontaneous and unique ideas often lead to innovative and unexpected song lyrics or artistic projects

During times when you feel overwhelmed or distracted, John offers a supportive presence

Whether it's through gentle reminders, offering reassurance, or simply listening as you ramble about your latest hyperfixation, he provides unwavering comfort and understanding

Paul

Paul is naturally a very supportive and nurturing partner

He is exceptionally patient and understanding during times when you become distracted or overwhelmed

He also thrives on creating structure and routine, which helps you manage your symptoms effectively

He'll collaborate with you to create adaptive routines and to-do lists that accommodate you, designing schedules that provide flexibility while ensuring important tasks are completed without stress

Paul helps you channel your creative energy into organized projects

He enjoys planning songwriting sessions or artistic endeavors that allow you to streamline your enthusiasm and ideas

Paul listens attentively when you ramble and infodump about your hyperfixations

His optimism and positivity uplift you, helping you feel more confident and capable in managing your ADHD

He always makes it a point to celebrate your achievements, big and small, recognizing the effort and determination it takes to accomplish tasks despite your ADHD-related challenges

Paul is very attuned to your emotional needs, offering comfort and support during moments of frustration or overwhelm

During periods of self-doubt, Paul makes sure to emphasize his belief in your abilities and resilience

He will also take the liberty of decluttering your work and living spaces, as well as locating items you may have misplaced, wanting to keep you from experiencing additional stress

He will often pick up your medication for you (if applicable), and always reminds you to take your meds

Paul helps you set clear goals and prioritize your tasks

He suggests therapies and coping mechanisms, helping you to make informed decisions to improve your daily life

George

George appreciates your spontaneity and creativity, and feels it aligns well with his laid-back personality

He encourages you to explore different hobbies and interests, recognizing your potential to excel in various creative endeavors

He values your insight and often seeks your perspective on music, philosophy, and art

George appreciates your ability to share your experiences openly with him, even when your thoughts are racing or your emotions are intense

You bond over using music as a form of therapy, playing acoustic guitars together or listening to soothing melodies that help calm your mind and enhance your focus

George enjoys spending quiet moments with you - whether it's meditating, enjoying nature, or simply existing and decompressing together

He loves to escape with you to peaceful, natural settings where you can both unwind, connect with one another, and find inspiration in the beauty of your surroundings

He provides a calming presence for you, helping you feel grounded and supported in moments of overwhelm or distraction

George notices small details about your behavior and mood, which helps him recognize when you need gentle reminders or space to recharge

He always respects your need for personal space and quiet moments

George, of course, introduces you to and walks you through mindfulness practices and meditation techniques that help you center yourself and manage your ADHD symptoms more effectively

He supports you in setting boundaries and encourages you to prioritize self-care

George shares his passion for health and wellbeing with you, encouraging activities like yoga, journaling, and nutritious cooking, which promote physical and mental balance

Ringo

Ringo embraces your spontaneity, finding joy and solace in your playful and creative nature

He values your unique talents and perspectives, always taking genuine interest in your hyperfixations

Ringo encourages you to express yourself freely and to always embrace your quirks and unique strengths

His humor and warmth create a positive atmosphere where you feel accepted and cherished for who you are

His lighthearted approach helps alleviate day-to-day stress and pressure

Ringo finds great pleasure in making you laugh, and appreciates your own playful sense of humor and view of things

Ringo is naturally flexible and adaptable, which helps him to navigate your changing moods and interests with ease

He recognizes that your ADHD may lead to shifts in your interests or priorities and remains supportive and understanding in these moments

Ringo enjoys planning outings and activities that cater to your interests, making sure you're both engaged and having fun

He savors moments of comfortable silence and parallel play with you, where you can simply be together without constant need for stimulation or conversation

He deeply appreciates the peace and connection found in these quiet moments

Ringo creates a safe space for you to express yourself creatively however you see fit - whether it be through doodling, writing, or other forms of artistic expression

Empathy is a huge aspect of his support, as he also struggles with ADHD symptoms and navigates his challenges alongside yours

He provides a comforting and understanding presence during times where you feel frustrated or overstimulated

Ringo offers a calming and positive demeanor, as well as unconditional support, reassuring you that you are not alone in managing your ADHD

[cod-dump]

ITS ME IM BACK TO GIVE YOU MORE TEEN GHOST

When Simon and Johnny FINALLY start dating Johnny’s dad invites them over for a bbq

Price and Johnny’s dad (I’ll give this man a name because I don’t want to keep calling him “Johnny’s dad” so I’ll just call him Noah)

So Price and Noah become friends and I mean really great friends but Nikolai doesn’t like this and thinks that Noah is trying to steal his man so he keeps giving death glares and Ava (Johnny’s mother) sees this and is like “absolutely fucking not” and so she confronts Nikolai and she’s like “you got a problem with my husband?” And she does NOT play and Nikolai isn’t going to let himself get disrespected by this 40 year old woman that’s 5’2 so he starts talking back and the it just turns into an argument

And price and Noah are the ones to break it up and Simon, Kyle, and even Farah are all hiding inside and are dying of embarrassment

Later Ava and Nikolai make up and then actually kinda become friends but they still hate each other a little so they’re frenemies

Johnny was also hiding inside with Simon but his sisters were outside cheering their mom on

(P.S at some point during the argument Ava started yelling at Nikolai in Gaelic and so Nikolai also started yelling but in Russian.)

-🫠



My names for Soap’s parents are Isaiah and Muriel but I like those!

___

A MacTavish Party (teen!Ghost au)

(warning: A lot of silliness ahead. I mean, I was really trying to see how silly I could get it. Just really trying)

(Also, random facts at the end to clarify somethings)

---

It was like the MacTavish family leapt into celebration when Simon and Johnny finally started dating.

Simon thought his dad sitting him down and giving him a more adult version of 'The Talk' was embarrassing, but Johnny's family was literally throwing a barbeque to celebrate. Johnny was on speaker phone with Simon and Kyle when his sisters had busted into his room and started singing a made-up song to congratulate Johnny on finally asking out his crush. 'Pussy No More' was the name they gave it.

It was the funniest thing Simon ever had the pleasure of hearing, and hearing Johnny die of embarrassment before hanging up so Simon and Kyle couldn't hear anymore just made it better. Clearly Johnny had the more embarrassing family and that made Simon feel at ease for some reason. Maybe because he didn't have to worry about his family doing something to make him want to bury himself alive.

The entire Price household was invited and Simon was told he could bring anyone else if he wanted. So, of course, Simon called Ale and asked him and Rudy to come along... and asked Alex to come (and totally not so he can watch him and Kyle squirm while in the presence of their father and Nik). Simon knew Johnny asked Hong-Jin and his sisters to have their boyfriends to be there so it wasn't like there weren't plenty going on to distract John from the clear weirdness between Alex and Kyle.

"I fucking hate you," Kyle muttered as they walked across the street to Johnny's house, Alex hanging way back behind everyone as if he was scared if he got too close that John would just know.

"Hate me all you want, doesn't change the fact that we're brothers and that you're stuck with me."

Kyle's glare hardens and Simon pretends he doesn't see it, John already at the door and ready to knock when it swung open and Johnny's family grabbed his arm and practically threw him inside. Simon saw Johnny further in the house, looking like he was arguing with his eldest sister, Eve.

"Come in, come in! Simon!"

Isaiah was a friendly man, but it felt like that friendliness increased tenfold the moment Johnny and him started officially dating. Simon was relieved that Isaiah liked him and hasn't been aggressive about Simon dating his son. It made him wonder if Johnny or anyone else had a word with Isaiah beforehand.

Simon was pulled into a hug and Simon could hear Johnny whining in the background, "Pa, please!"

Isaiah releases Simon and turns to look at his son, "I finally have another son and I'm not allowed to hug him!?"

Simon did take pride in the fact, out of all Johnny and his sisters' partners, he was the only one Isaiah liked enough to call his 'son'. That did put Simon in a tricky position with the boyfriends of Eve and Carol, both seemed desperate for Isaiah's approval. And here Simon was, getting hugged and having a party thrown over the fact he was (finally) dating Johnny.

John cleared his throat and offered up the casserole dish he carried over, "I know you said not to bring anything but-"

"Hey, I'm not going to complain. I know for a fact you are one hell of a cook! You could compare to my wife!"

Johnny grabs Simon's attention by taking his hand, Eve making 'oohing' noises when he did. He casted a quick glare at her before dragging Simon off through the house to the back garden. Kyle followed, then Farah, and then Alex.

"I'm so sorry about my dad... and my sister... and I'm just gonna go ahead and apologize for whatever the rest of my family do."

"It's like they're throwing a baby shower, welcoming a new kid into the family," mused Farah as they walked into the thankfully MacTavish (other than Johnny) vacant space.

"You would think! Pa yelled 'I have another son' after I told him about Simon and Eve's boyfriend almost started crying."

Simon wanted to feel bad for Jay considering him and Eve had been dating for a solid two years now, but the guy stole Simon's lunch that Johnny's gran packed for him and he hasn't forgiven him for that. It was her famous lamb stew, so no, he's not being petty! Johnny had a couple foldable tables set up near the back corner of the garden near the fence. There was enough space for Simon and his tagalongs and Johnny and Hong-Jin.

"Wait, where's Hong-Jin?" Kyle asked as he put his book down on the chair he had chosen.

"He's coming in a bit. What about Ale and Rudy?"

"Ale is working an extra shift at his aunt's shop and Rudy is... Actually, I have no idea what Rudy does when he's not with Ale."

"... Is he a hitman?"

Simon snorts out a surprised laugh at Alex's quiet question. Farah just rubbed her forehead, clearly trying to hide the fact she wanted to laugh at the sincere question.

Kyle groaned at his boyfriend's seriousness, "Alex-"

"JOHNNY!"

Everyone flinched at the unmistakable voice of Hong-Jin from the other side of the fence. The fence shakes as Hong-Jin suddenly pops up on the other side of the nearly seven foot privacy, climbing over. He clearly met to drop down once he was on the other side of the fence, but his shirt got caught when he let go, causing him to flip over before the fabric ripped and crash to the ground. Everyone just stared in silence, Johnny looking fed up with Hong-Jin as the boy laid there without moving, clearly just defeated by his failed attempt at being cool.

And, of course, Johnny's mother had stepped outside with a tablecloth to put on one of the tables when this occurred. And her reaction would suggest this wasn't the first time she's witnessed something like this.

"Honey! You could've just used the side gate!" Muriel called, not even a bit worried about the boy as he finally got off the ground.

"Fence was quicker," Hong-Jin squawked out, the air knocked out of his lungs and his words not carrying like they normally do.

Hong-Jin straightens his back, Muriel making sure he was okay before she went back inside. The moment she went inside, Hong-Jin turned to Johnny, and in a voice only low enough so anyone from inside couldn't hear him, he asked a question.

"You still a virgin?"

"HONG-JIN WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Johnny's face turned red and Simon's did too as Farah, Kyle, and Alex started laughing hysterically. Johnny lunged at Hong-Jin with the clear intent to strangle him, the boy dodging to the side while somehow keeping his composure.

"It's an honest question! Are you gonna wait 'til marriage or-?"

God, he's just like Ale.

Simon covered his face, Farah patting his shoulder while wheezing. Johnny continued trying to fight Hong-Jin, face burning bright while he cussed out his friend. The yelling summoned Isaiah, who just froze Johnny and Hong-Jin in place with just a single glance.

"Johnny! We have guests!"

John walked out beside Isaiah, "Oh, don't worry about having a filter. I've heard worse when I served."

Isaiah whipped around to look at John, "You served!?"

That sparked something and the two men started talking, walking back inside. Johnny blinks before he looks at Simon and Kyle.

"Our dads just became best friends. I just know it."

Simon snorts and Johnny would abandon his mission to kill Hong-Jin. The evening would continue on and everyone would start helping bring out food for the grill and setting up a table for all of the dishes (the cold dishes being kept inside until later). Johnny's grandmother would appear, giving Simon a firm hug before she would turn to Hong-Jin.

"Honey, my sweet! I'm so glad you came! Does your mother want some food for later?"

"Gran, we already have so many of your containers!"

"You can bring them back with more of that kimchi your mother makes," Gran said with a smile.

"I'll ask my Umma to make some more for you."

"I would love that. And I would love it more if you didn't try jumping the fence with it."

Johnny had mentioned that his grandmother and mother were best friends with Hong-Jin's own grandmother and mother. They were friends before they had even known about each other, which led to them meeting and inevitably becoming friends. He was a practical MacTavish (by Johnny's mother and grandmother's words) and Simon was somewhat nervous about joining that status.

"Who wants to bet who will get here first: Nik or Alejandro or Rudy?"

"Ale and Rudy are coming around seven... Nik will probably spawn in the driveway after work or whatever the hell he does."

"Construction."

"Hmm, still don't believe that."

Kyle snorts and Simon rolls his eyes. All attention turned towards the house as Isaiah came out and went to the grill. Knowing that the MacTavish family was filled with amazing cooks, everyone started getting excited. Food, MacTavish made. Can't get better than that! Everyone started coming outside, Johnny's sisters and their boyfriends, his parents, grandmother, and John came out with Nik.

"Nik's here... before Ale and Rudy? Pay up!"

"Fuck, there goes my ten dollars."

"Shouldn't have betted on the horniest guy we know and his perfect boyfriend who he worships to show up before Nik."

"Why did you say his name like that?"

Simon decided to step into the house to call Ale, dodging affections from Nik who clearly had the intent of embarrassing him as he did. When he returned outside, Johnny ran up to him and whispered.

"There's a cake with 'pre-married' on it that Eve brought. I am so sorry-"

After dying from the description of the cake, the barbeque went off smoothly. Isaiah and John were attached at the hip at the grill, talking like they were old friends while Nik silently watched them from the food table. Simon was trying to stick with Kyle and Farah but they followed Alex when he got grabbed by Hong-Jin and now they were... dancing? They were doing something inside the house in the living room that appeared to be dancing. So Simon stuck with Johnny who soon was snatched by his mother and grandmother into the house straight to the kitchen.

Which left Simon, alone at the table because he was too nervous about following Johnny into the kitchen and definitely didn't want to join whatever madness the others were doing in the living room. He was debating on joining Nik where he was when Jay and Carol's boyfriend (was it Oliver?) walked over to him and sat down. Simon tensed up, having not spent any alone time with the two like... ever.

Jay was twenty-two and Oliver was nineteen, so they were old. And considering how Carol was, Oliver was weird.

"So, finally said 'fuck it' and got with a MacTavish," Jay started, speaking in a low voice like he might summon one of Johnny's family by mentioning their surname.

Oliver grunts, "Already the favorite, too..."

Jay grins, "How'd you cheat the system?"

"Maybe it's because his dad's military. Look at them, Isaiah could kiss him!"

Oliver said that in a particular louder tone than what Jay had been speaking in, clearly with no shame or fear. Coincidentally, Nik's rather blank staring had hardened and he looked less than friendly by this point. Simon blinked when he noticed, unable to recall the last time he ever had seen Nik make that face.

Eve walks over to them and Simon relaxes as she grabs Jay by the ear, "You! Stop tormenting my little brother!"

Simon always did like Eve.

"Babe- AH!"

Jay gets up and moves away from Simon, ear trapped in Eve's hold but he made no attempt to free it. Oliver blinked when Eve snapped her gaze on him, standing quickly and leaving towards the grill where Carol was talking with her dad.

"Go inside, Si. Think Johnny could use some saving from Ma and Gran."

Simon snorts before he stands and quickly makes his way inside. The moment Simon passed by the kitchen and Johnny saw him, he immediately started trying to get away from his mother and grandmother. Both women were speaking in Gaelic, sounding very loving yet sad. Maybe reminiscing memories.

"Ma- Gran-"

"Can I see my boyfriend?"

It was like using that word flipped a switch, Muriel and Emery gasp before they started cooing. Using the 'B' word seemed to strike them in the heart, freeing Johnny from their hold and letting him leave with Simon. Johnny was blushing, grinning as they walked into the hall.

"What?" Simon asked while matching his infectious smile.

"You called me your boyfriend."

"Is that not what you are?"

Johnny's smile widens, stepping closer to Simon. Simon felt his heart beat fast with how close Johnny was getting. But he didn't back away, he even leaned forward. The honking of a horn out front of the house made them snap out of their daze, blinking in surprise at the sudden, very loud and familiar noise.

"Simon! Lamejandro is here!"

Johnny couldn't help but laugh, having not heard Farah's 'affectionate' nickname for Alejandro before. Simon ran out of the house, finding Alejandro and Rudy getting out of Alejandro's car. Simon was quick to smack Alejandro's shoulder, the boy gasping in a feigned hurt as he clutched the box of drinks to his chest.

“How dare you!?”

"Told you to not honk the horn," Rudy said bluntly as he walked past Alejandro, patting Simon's shoulder as he goes by, “Congrats on getting a man, finally.”

Alejandro wheezes as Simon bites his tongue. This was going to be a long night, he just knows. They head back inside and Farah looks at Alejandro from her place on the living room floor, Hong-Jin beside her. Alejandro froze when they made eye contact, Hong-Jin looking at Farah as if he was waiting for her to make the first move on how to proceed.

“Can you dance, Lamejandro?”

Rudy quickly grabbed the drinks from Alejandro when it looked like the boy was going to either drop them or throw them to the floor.

“Oh? Can I dance?”

“That was the question, are you deaf?”

Simon snickers and leads Rudy to the dining room where a lot of drinks and utensils were being kept, “She’s going to bury him alive.”

“I’ll help her.”

Simon looks at Rudy, “I thought he was the ‘love of your life’?”

Rudy just looked at Simon while he placed the box down, “You know just as well as I that Ale’s ego needs to come down several hundred notches. If nothing is done it’s going to pop.”

Simon laughs as Johnny walks into the dining room. Rudy turns and looks at him, Johnny freezing in place. That’s what happens when you’re effortlessly gorgeous, you freeze people in their tracks… also Rudy could be terrifying. Johnny would’ve remained frozen there if Simon didn’t motion him to come over. Rudy showed mercy and looked away, allowing Johnny to walk over.

Of course, something had to happen. Though things were weird, it was expected. But Simon was really hoping nothing bad would happen, or anything negative. He expected too much considering so many interesting people (adults and children) were shoved into the same place. Andy, the youngest of Johnny’s sisters, ran in. She spotted him and Simon and pointed to the door she just ran from. Simon’s blood ran cold when he heard a steady rise of voices, an unmistakable argument.

“Ma’s ‘bout to fight that weird guy with the sunglasses!”

WHAT-

Simon was out the door, Johnny right behind him, before Andy could say any more. And there they were, Nik and Muriel MacTavish, yelling at each other in their respective mother languages. Simon picked up on most of what Nik was saying, which made him cringe. He didn’t understand anything Johnny’s mom was saying but judging by her family’s faces… it probably was on par with Nik’s obscenities.

Johnny’s grandmother came over and ushered Simon and Johnny inside, Andy slipping around them to join her sisters in cheering for their mother while their boyfriends watched in awed silence. The last thing Simon saw before being pushed inside was his dad getting in front Nik and pushing him back while Isaiah just came over and scooped up his wife and moved her away.

“Oh- Go sit with your friends. I’ll handle this.”

The look in Gran’s eyes made it impossible for Simon to doubt her. She went back out the door and it closed a little harder than what was necessary, Gaelic being muttered under her breath, and Simon staring at it in horror. Johnny silently grabbed his hand as they heard the yelling suddenly stop, both of them walking back to the living room rather quickly. Everyone greeted them with staring, wide eyes and not a single one of them daring to say anything.

Simon tugged Johnny along and they sat down on the couch where Alex was. Alex stared at them, eyes flickering to Kyle who was on the floor (maybe doing some strange alien dance before everything happened) as if to ask him how to proceed. The only thing keeping Alejandro from saying something was Rudy’s firm hold on his bicep. And Hong-Jin just looked too in shock to say anything.

So Farah said something.

“What the fuck is going on out there?”

“Nik-“

“Was fighting with my mom…”

Everyone became horrified.

“… well, so much for a wedding-“

Hong-Jin was smacked and Simon was flooded with fucking embarrassment over everything he just witnessed. Of course Nik would some how get into a fight with Johnny’s lovely mother! Of course he would-

Kyle ended up going to spy out the dining room window to see if he could learn anything. Simon was just replaying the image of Nik and Muriel yelling at each other, red faced and the clear fact that everything was escalating. Simon couldn’t recall ever seeing Nik like that… and it disturbed him. He was always so calm, silent in anger but always kept his head level. The most he ever had was a blank expression, a twitching eye and a tone in his voice. Not that.

“Si,” Farah said, Simon turning look at her.

She seemed to know what he was thinking and just reached over and placed her hand on his knee. Simon feels Johnny lean against him and he breathes out. God, something just had to happen…

Alex stood and went to go check on Kyle after a few minutes of uneasy silence. Simon and Johnny just leaned against each other, Farah sitting next to Simon and Hong-Jin, Alejandro, and Rudy sat on the floor. No one knew what to say, none of them expecting something like this to happen, not when everyone was so excited and happy. It just came out of nowhere. Everything was too quiet from the adults and Johnny’s sisters and their boyfriends, and Kyle hasn’t returned with any news.

The silence ticked on and it became too much for Simon. Alejandro noticed and cleared his throat.

“So… I was gonna wait until later to be a smartass but-!” Alejandro jumped up, “I think I’ll give it to you now. Be right back.”

Alejandro leaves, Simon hearing the front door opening and closing. Rudy just sighed, obviously knowing what Alejandro was getting.

“He thought it would be funny…”

“Thought what would be funny?”

“Matching tombstones,” Hong-Jin joked and Johnny snickered in response.

Farah rolled her eyes, “Bit expensive for a joke.”

Rudy grins, “You have no idea what Ale is willing to do for a joke. He will dip into his college savings his dad set up to accomplish one if he has to.”

Simon laughs knowing it was true. Alejandro loved a good, elaborate joke or prank. He could believe him misusing the money his dad saved up for him for a joke… but only if it would be hysterical. He’s not that eager to dance with death.

Alejandro returns, a rather small box in his hands. The smirk on his face made Simon groan, pre-annoyed by whatever was in that box. Johnny was staring hard at it, like he was trying to look through the box to see what was in it.

“Ale… I’m going to kill you.”

Johnny leans over to look in the box after Simon finally spoke after a moment of silence, “Wha- No-“

Alejandro starts laughing, proud of himself clearly, as Simon takes out a fucking collar. Hong-Jin starts cackling, Farah covering her mouth and snorting at the sight. Rudy just sighed, though he was definitely amused by his boyfriend’s antics. Simon drops the collar back into the box before he hands it off to Johnny. Simon stands and Alejandro jumps away, his laughter becoming more erratic as Simon tries to grab him.

After minute Simon managed to Alejandro, and that’s when Kyle and Alex returned from the dining room.

“Hey, I think-,” Kyle stopped talking when he entered the room, Alex bumping into his back as a result.

Simon releases Alejandro after Kyle stares at him for a good five seconds, of course judging him.

“So- Uh, find out anything?”

More judging staring before Kyle finally says something, “I think they resolved whatever that was. They were talking but whatever they were talking about made Johnny’s sisters get bored.”

Johnny snorts, “Oh yea, they’ve made up.”

The rest of that evening was rather tame. There was no more fighting or shouting matches, just smooth sailing. Whatever Gran did worked because now Nik and Muriel were rubbing shoulders, probably being even more friendly than what John and Isaiah were. Simon was glad whatever that was was now over, he was still mortified by the whole thing.

“At least they’re friends now…” Johnny murmured as he sat next to Simon in the corner.

“I was scared they were going to throw punches,” Simon mutters back.

“My ma would win.”

Simon snorts, the image of a man Nik’s size getting taken down by Johnny’s tiny mother was rather hilarious, “I’d pay to see that.”

Eve had pulled out lawn darts and Simon had a feeling it would be safer to sit in the corner away from Alejandro. Rudy was standing behind him, trying to get him to not fuck around because he might hurt someone. Hong-Jin was no help because he was daring him to launch the dart at a bottle balanced on a fence post.

“Ale, no-“

“ALE-“

Of course Alejandro had to throw it. He cannot refuse a dare, his ego wouldn’t allow it.

“What did you do with the box?”

“I- SHIT-“

Johnny jumps up and runs into the house. The last thing they needed was someone finding a box with collar with Simon’s name on it. That would really be the icing on the cake.

___

Fun Fact/pieces of information for the fic!:

'Honey' is Johnny's gran and mom's nickname for Hong-Jin cuz they think he's a very sweet boy :) (Johnny called him ‘Honey’ once and got slapped because he wasn’t allowed to use it)

Eve is Johnny's eldest sister, she is in college and is twenty-one. Carol is eighteen. Andy is sixteen (she torments Johnny the most out of the sisters because of how close in age they are)

Johnny's dad is around 6'7-6'8 while his mom is barely 5'3

Rudy is trans, still working on fleshing out his story in the au. Hopefully some more things with Rudy to help build up his background in the future!

Isaiah is described to be ‘oblivious’ and scattered brained. It’s just undiagnosed ADHD (where do think Johnny got it from?)

Jay and Oliver are decent guys, they're just a version of weird Simon isn't too familiar with. They're kind of jealous Isaiah jumped on liking Simon so much so quick but they don't care too much considering they're still liked and a part of the family

I have two sets of names for Soap's family. One set is used for when Soap has a good relationship with them in the au/fic and the other set is for when they aren't on good terms! (though I haven't had a chance to use the other set of names yet)

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - X

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more gif and pics from pinterest

he tastes like candy, he’s so beautiful -Awful, Hole 🤘

10. little bird

Wick says nothing more, just holds your gaze, and again you feel like the floor is going out from beneath you. You’ve become accustomed to your cooler body temperature, but now for the umpteenth time tonight you feel hot beneath the collar. 

“It’s…just a coincidence.” 

“Surely.” He smirks at you, laughing at you, deep down.

Asshole. 

One extremely fine, extremely dangerous, asshole. 

Glaring at the two of you eye-fucking eachother, Constantine clears his throat. “Are we trying to find don Juan or not? Otherwise, I should get to Midnite’s.” 

You look to John. Despite the energy you’d shared with him, he still has dark circles under his eyes, still seems just this side of fragile. You remember how much blood you had to take from him last time, to call up that much excess power, that it just felt like you were floating above your corporeal body. You’re not sure he can spare it, now. If you sent him to an early grave with blood loss you know you would walk yourself right out into the sun. 

On the other hand, there is Wick, robust, full of blood, and who you wouldn’t feel guilty at all about taking down a peg or two. His smile widens as he notices you assessing him like a piece of meat, his powerful body sprawled in the rickety old chair–maybe he wouldn’t be so smug, however, if he knew exactly what you were thinking. 

“Depends,” you answer John. “Will you let me in, or are you going to keep stonewalling me?”

“I’m not exactly in the habit of leaving my aura hanging wide open. It leads to bad things in my business,” he grumbles. 

You suppose, considering his occupation, that’s understandable. But you also think he’s making excuses to shut you out.  

“Uh huh.” 

You cross the cracked linoleum floor to him. He’s so tall that you’re nearly eye to eye, even with him sitting, and even though you already fed once tonight, just looking at him like this kindles that insatiable hunger in your belly, a lick of desire that curls in you like smoke from an opium pipe. Heady. Wonderful. Addictive. Shields up or not, you know he feels it too in the bond between you, his lips parting with a gasp, his pupils dilating to turn his dark irises purest black.  

He takes your hand, and the energy that ignites between you as his long fingers slide into yours fills the dilapidated room with something bright and charged. It even makes Wick sit up straighter in his chair. It feels like sunshine on your face, when you were still human, and you cannot suppress a sigh of enjoyment. 

They both seem surprised when you hold out your other hand to Wick. “Come here.” The vampire hunter obeys, his footsteps heavy and deliberate as he approaches, his presence a solid line of warmth at your back.  

With an almost quizzical look, Wick takes your hand. His fingers are calloused, and strong, and his touch feels like a live wire gripped in your hands. Reincarnated sweethearts or not–your magic likes him, and you think you can work with that. 

Constantine’s frown as he watches this exchange is thunderously contemptuous.  “We gonna sing kumbaya now, baby?” he gripes at you. 

“No. We’re going to find don Juan, and Mr. Wick here is going to cut off his fucking head. Got a problem with that?”

You see the corner of his mouth tick for the barest second, his only indication of mirth before he throws himself wide open to you, and the mingled energies of these two powerful men rips through you like an electric shock. 

♰♰♰

Maybe John Constantine is ill, but you were a fool to think him weak. One mouthful of blood taken carefully from his wrist is so power-charged you practically see stars. It’s possible that adding Wick’s rich blood to the cocktail nearly renders you drunk, so giddy you think you might hover physically off the ground. But the two men on either side of you keep you anchored, vying even now in their holds upon you. 

It’s funny, maybe, that you thought it would keep things tame, drinking from the wrist. But there is an agonizing tension amidst the three of you, unsatisfied lust and painful longing. It all adds a particular spice to this conjuring you work as the focus between them, and you are able to rise with barely a thought this time.

It’s more familiar, this second time you wander through the minds of the city, and you are more careful as you sift through them like grains of rice, in search of that one poisoned seed. You think you are successful more than once, before realizing they are just don Juan’s awful progeny, but not the original root of that particular brand of evil. 

You are surprised, when in your wandering you encounter Angela, the detective John Constantine so secretly fancied. She is in her apartment, working at her laptop. There is a glow of such goodness about her that is rare to find in humans. Her aura is practically a halo, it shines so bright. She is warm, and smart, and strong, and it’s no wonder John likes her, you think to yourself sadly. 

You probe a little deeper, finding that at this moment she is thinking about John. She likes him too, though she’s puzzled as to why. That is a feeling you understand all too well. She must feel your presence, looking up as though there is something in the room with her, reaching out to put a hand on her service issue Glock on the desk next to her. She’s already had quite a scare after her first encounter with real demons, and guiltily you back off, not wanting to upset her.  

You are about to give up your search, feeling that you have stretched yourself to the limit, when at last you sense him. That seething, cloying dark energy that follows don Juan like a cloud. You are more cautious in your approach this time, keeping your distance as you observe him. It seems he retreated north into the mountains, to a chic but almost quaint little house tucked into the hillside. He sits beside a glittering swimming pool, smoking and brooding. The moment you sense him turning your way you retreat, returning to your body, too quickly perhaps. 

It’s disorienting, after being weightless, to wrangle with your flesh and bones, like it’s hard to get all the pieces of you to mesh back again. You would have fallen, if not for two pairs of strong hands steadying you. You lean back on a broad chest. Constantine is before you, you recognize, which makes the imposing wall behind you still Wick. You are either the luckiest girl in the world, or you are cursed. You still haven’t decided which yet. 

“Back off,” snarls Constantine to the dhampir, pulling you into his arms. 

Wick growls, and you can't help but feel like the bone between two cranky dogs. You really shouldn't be enjoying it so much.

“Are you alright?” 

You think you’re fine, but you’re tired. You didn’t travel that far, last time, or search with such purpose in mind. It took a lot more energy than you thought it would.

“He’s in Laurel Canyon,” you whisper against Constantine’s chest. “North end. A little cottage with stone facing, clay tile roof. There’s a bronze statue of horses out front.” You think back, and realize you even remember the house number. You manage to say it out loud before the room starts to spin. Are you going to be sick? “I don’t feel good.” 

“I warned you,” grouses Constantine, even while his hand sits protectively on the back of your head. 

“She did well,” defends Wick. “This will save me time.” 

Sitting back down, Constantine pulls you into his lap, away from the dhampir. You hate to admit how good it feels to curl into him like a child who’s had a nightmare, his arms around you.   

“Great,” he snarks to Wick. “Feel free to go.”

Wick snorts in answer, still looking down at you. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Reluctantly you nod against Constantine’s collarbone, closing your eyes. “I’ll be fine. Will you be fine by yourself?”

Wick laughs lowly at this, but not unkindly. “No worries, ptichka, no more flying around for you. I will give don Juan your regards.” 

“Please, kick him in the nuts for me,” you grumble. The thought of that awful vampire finally getting his comeuppance is darkly satisfying. 

“Would you like me to bring you his head?” 

“Ew.” 

Wick laughs, and you hear his footfalls as he crosses the kitchen to the crumpled vampire in the corner. You’d almost forgotten about the poor bastard. “I will see you soon,” says the dhampir, winking at you before dragging the informant out by his ankles. 

A strange quiet settles over the apartment, without the ominous dark energy of John Wick filling the room. 

You should be scared of him–but you kind of miss him.

“Alone at last,” grouses Constantine, his hold on you tightening. 

You laugh a little, snuggling into the bend of his neck. You start to feel better, sitting like this with him. His hand drifts to your thigh, tracing the hem of his shirt absently. “Was this really the only thing you could come up with to wear?” 

“You don’t like it, John?” you tease sleepily. 

“I like it a lot. For my eyes only.”

“Hmm. I think that’s something only a boyfriend gets to say,” you dare ripost.

He snorts in answer. “If I was your boyfriend, would I get to tell you what to do?” 

“No.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He coughs, and only a beat later do you realize it was a laugh. 

 But then he can’t help but ruin the moment: 

“I thought the dhampir was your new boyfriend, Miss I’ll come visit you in New York,” he complains in an insulting falsetto.  

You, in turn, just roll your eyes. “Excuse you, but I saved you from getting your head lopped off. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

Then, he has to go and turn serious on you. “Baby, when I’m gone–” You whine, hating hearing him say it aloud, but he talks over you. “It’s going to happen, y/n. You’ve got to accept that. And when it does, you cannot take up with him. He is bad news. Call it…my dying wish.” 

You’re smart enough to bite down on your first response, which is, ‘he doesn’t seem so bad.’  

It turns out you don’t have any reply at all, and he watches you with an intensity that makes you fear he can read your mind. You’re not sure why he takes mercy on you, saying more gently, “You can’t save him, sweetheart. Any more than you can save me.” 

You look down, because his laser-like gaze is too much, even for you. 

Part of the reason you want to get this thing solved so badly is because you hope you can save him. Maybe with the help of modern medicine, and your own combined magic…something might work out. Buy him some time, at least. He already seems better, after finally letting you into your bond earlier that night. 

Maybe he’s resigned, but you haven’t completely given up hope. 

“I just…want to get this thing resolved,” you admit. “So you can rest.”  

He lifts one of those angular dark brows, clearly thinking that the only rest waiting for him is the permanent kind. But he doesn’t insist again that you accept the inevitable truth of his demise. Sometimes, when you care about someone, you let them get away with those little lies that keep them sane through the day to day grind of life. Maybe he realizes that you need this, so that you don’t run down the street screaming at God and anyone else unfortunate enough to get in your path.  

“Sure, honey.” He surprises you again, when he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m going to put you to bed, and I have to go to Midnite’s.”

You know the kittenish sound that escapes your lips sounds ridiculous. “Let me go with you.”

“You’re wiped out. Stay here and rest.” 

“No.” You sit up, feeling a little better. Tired, but better. 

“Yes,” he insists, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“I’m just going to follow you, if you try to leave me here.” 

“For once, can you not be so stubborn when I’m trying to protect you?” 

Your lips dance as you try to suppress a smile, lifting an eyebrow. “I could ask the same thing of you?” 

Another exasperated growl escapes him, and your heart sings when he pulls you into another kiss, that golden rope between you pulsing with energy, singing with light. He pulls back to look at you, his pupils blown wide. You wonder if it occurs to him, that this could be his last chance to be with a woman, if things outside this crumbling apartment do not go well. Or maybe, just maybe, he finds you as irresistible as you find him. Either way, when he tangles his long fingers in your hair and kisses you again, you are all too ready to lean in. 

You’re not sure how it’s possible, that this man simultaneously breaks your heart, and puts you back together again. 

When he stands with you in his arms you give a sound of protest, worried about the extra exertion.

“I’m fine, y/n,” he tells you with a rare gentleness that to you is precious as any gemstone. “I’ve got you.”     

He carries you to the bed in the next room, and you are more than happy to let him have his way with you. 

______

*ptichka - little bird

[g0g0at]

Ok this isn’t gonna be coherent at all but I have been thinking about Arthur being resurrected. Obviously he’s gonna come back messed up but I’m wondering about the physical aspects as well.

The amulet was also used to bring the prince back, and although it isn’t clear how long after his death it was used, that guy was in full zombie mode by that point. He could speak a little bit, but he attacked Arthur almost immediately, doing the classic zombie things.

So… is Arthur effectively a zombie now? Or did he manage to escape that due to only being dead for what half an hour? Does he still need to eat, sleep, ect? Will he get zombie like throughout the season, putting a time limit on the season? Like how John started forgetting things and drifting off cause of the presence of KiY, will Arthur start forgetting things, losing focus, maybe even becoming more aggressive while John is frantically trying to figure out what he did wrong, what is happening to his friend.

On a somewhat darker element, would he pick up the zombie diet? That would not be good, considering their “seeing death” power.

Would John not be able to touch Arthur at any point otherwise he would see his death again?

On a lighter note, could yorick walk him around like he did with the witch? That would be funny… and probably useful when John’s narration isn’t enough for a difficult task.

But also! Does he need to eat an sleep now? John has expressed annoyance, if only mild, at Arthur’s need to eat and sleep. It’s a part of being human John can’t access. And it’s part of being human no one would EVER expect to lose. Arthur losing a physical aspect of being human (rather than psychological) would be an interesting element to explore. It would also put Arthur in John’s position: without being literally human anymore, he will only be human in his emotions and psych.

Probably Kayne with reverse it if it does happen, but who knows?

[scoobydoodean]

so the mind wipe was a bad move in context, i think most people will agree with that (i agree with you that it was the worst thing dean did). but beyond that, it barely even makes sense logistically unless you extrapolate that cas removed every piece of evidence of dean from their lives, phones, house, and friends’/neighbors’ memories… so how do you think they should’ve handled lisa and ben’s exit?

Setting aside how unfeasible it seems to truly erase Dean from their lives, it also just doesn't make sense to me because I don't understand how or why that would ever stop people from using them to hurt Dean. Like I guess they make it in the show as if it did in fact work (and it's better than the alternative the show likely would have come up with of killing them off) but why on earth would someone like Crowley for example not use Lisa and Ben still to hurt Dean just because they don't remember him??? They don't have to remember him for them to be used against him??

Like from Dean's perspective though, I think it was was about erasing the "poison". Like he felt he was this monster whose presence had ruined their lives irreparably, and by erasing himself from their lives as if he never existed, he could erase the "ruinous" impact he had on them. I think one of the biggest catalysts for this is ultimately having to put a gun in Ben's hand. When Ben expressed interest in Dean's gun collection in 6.02, Dean swore that Ben would never shoot a gun. Dean appears to have a lot of trauma tied up in his childhood experience with firearms. Lots of American kids grow up shooting, but for sport at targets and usually starting with BB guns. Dean was taken shooting (presumably real guns) for the first time when he was "six or seven" years old (2.06) and when he was taken to do that, he knew he was being trained to become a killer—to hunt monsters and to defend his brother—and John was proud. Dean repeats the story to Jo fondly (because what Jo wanted was a fond story—and Dean really struggles to deliver one because of what he's going through at the time), but there's something melancholic too, and this moment in 6.02 puts that in context, as does 3.10 where Dean expresses all the pent up hurt he feels at being treated as a solider and a weapon by his father, as does 1.18 where Dean is no older than 10 and left alone with Sam for days with a shotgun to defend them both. There's fear that has to be buried there and experiences with violence or the threat of it that Dean simply wasn't psychologically equipped to deal with. Most(arguably all) adults aren't equipped to handle that kind of stress and he was a child. So having to put a gun in Ben's hand so he could aid in defending his own mother was the greatest betrayal toward Ben's right to be a child that Dean could imagine and he HAD to erase it because he couldn't deal with the idea of Ben holding onto even a tenth of the childhood trauma that Dean has.

At the same time, Dean is so caught up in self-hatred and the idea of himself as a ruinous force that he loses track of boundaries and that it isn't his right to decide. And one of the repeated things echoed by Lisa and Ben that Dean never really allows himself to absorb is that they truly loved him and they didn't want to trade the experience of loving him despite the hardships. Lisa was very clear about this in 6.01 and 6.02, and so was Ben in 6.14 (though I don't think he understands all the dynamics in play no matter how much he insists he did).

I don't have a real opinion on anything that should have been done instead. It isn't something I would change just because I don't think Dean made a morally right choice but it is true that it doesn’t make much logical sense. From a practical safety perspective, I think it would have made more sense and been pretty interesting if Dean erased his own memories of them. This would still be in theme with Sam's wall and Cas's secrets and Bobby and Sam hiding Sam being alive and how we hide things to protect ourselves or others (and isn't all the talk from Cas and Death about protecting Sam from his own traumatic memories also probably an influence on Dean's decision to erase himself from Lisa and Ben's reality?). But I think ultimately, Dean wouldn't erase his memory because he would see carrying that experience with him as a "lesson" with scars he needed to bear so he'd never let that desire for a home cloud his judgement ever again and ruin someone's "normal" life.

[ashyyslashy]

faustian bargain - marquis vincent de gramont x f! reader (john wick: chapter 4)

synopsis: To clear your debts to The High Table, you agree to a proposal by the Marquis to live with him as his partner.

warnings: language, sexual content (p in v sex, choking), semi-toxic relationship dynamics

word count: 2.8k

a/n: the john wick lore makes my head spin!

You stared into the weathered face of the man on the portrait before you, tucked away in a private corner of the Marquis' expansive gallery. The wrinkles and creases bore the weight of years of suffering, the lines of his face hard set in permanent anguish. You often imagined them as a collection of sins etched onto his aged features. Sometimes, you found yourself likening the image to a Picture of Dorian Gray. You would wonder whether the Marquis' misdeeds had marred this painting instead of his own self, leaving his striking handsomeness intact, and he’d hidden it from view.

The portrait reminded you it was too late to regret the changes that had taken place; only to find a way to cope with them. You had become used to seeking refuge in your thoughts amidst the entrapment of your existence. You would conjure whatever you liked to make this engorged mansion seem less stifling.

You had made an off-hand comment to the Marquis once, that you felt like a cat in a cage without enough room to stretch its legs.

He had chuckled, with his own catlike eyes boring into yours. "Mon amour, you are only bound by your own pride and reluctance. Laissez-vous être libre."

In seeking freedom from The Table, you traded one form of enslavement for another. For some unknown reason, the Marquis had taken an interest in you upon your first meeting. So he offered you a choice: join the fruitless battle to kill John Wick or stay with him in his home until it was all over, in some sort of twisted romantic scenario. Whether he was driven by boredom, liquor, or pure schadenfreude, you were unsure. Regardless of his motivations, you knew there was really only one correct answer if you wanted to live.

"I'll live with you," you'd told him. "But what is it you really want from me? No bullshit."

"The companionship of a beautiful woman, is all. Is that truly so wrong?"

His full lips formed into a roguish smirk.

You should have known there'd be a catch. You didn't simply live in his mansion - you were confined to it. Even with supervision, you weren't allowed to leave the property. As a result, you desired his presence in order to fill your solitude, developing a sudden and unexpected connection to the man. It was shocking how quickly your resolve to spite him faded. He became your lifeline, your connection to the outside world. And despite your best judgement, the more time he spent away, the more you yearned for him.

You hated his brand of intoxicating hedonism, the luxury items and expensive food he lavished upon you to win your favor. But you wore the designer dresses he laid out on your bed and drank the aged wine that was served at dinner.

You felt like you were betraying what you stood for through your infatuation with him. You resented yourself for growing so dependent upon him. Every touch you shared, every pent-up moment of sexuality - and there were few and far between - sent a flood of guilt rushing throughout your body. You'd wanted to escape The Table, but had only gotten yourself in deeper by fraternizing with the enemy.

The worst part of all was that he assumed a total indifference towards you. He would only provide you with the occasional caress or kiss on the cheek and any coy allusion he made to romance or sex in conversation was carefully veiled. He was forcing you to make the first move, and you wished so strongly that you could shatter his confidence by refusing to make it.

But at the same time, your resolve was wavering - every part of you was consumed by a flaming desire for him, steadfast in its absolute power.

You knew you had to do something to extinguish it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The clatter of silverware resounded throughout the dining room, forks scraping against fine china.

You'd been fixated on him all night. Your eyes were glued to the veins flexing in his hands as he grasped his utensils, the curve of his lips when he brought a forkful of food to his waiting mouth, the tensing of his sharp jawline as he chewed.

Every time he met your gaze, your nerves stood on end. The meal seemed to drag on, and no matter how much you ate, nothing could fill the gaping pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was just the two of you tonight, and the air felt charged with electricity.

"C'est fini," the Marquis commanded suddenly, pushing his chair back. It dragged across the polished floor with a squeal.

As you always did, you stacked the plates and carried them into the kitchen, starting to wash them until the staff refused to let you help any further. You wished they would allow you to do more- you hated not feeling of use, and you disliked others waiting upon you. Your sense of independence was unshakeable, even here.

When you left the kitchen, the Marquis had gone, likely retired to his chamber. You were counting on that. You hurriedly crossed the house, taking deep breaths for what you were preparing to do.

Standing in front of his door, you raised your right knuckle and rapped upon the wood. You heard shuffling within.

"Who is it?" he called.

"It's me," you replied sheepishly.

"D'accord. Come in."

You slowly pushed open the door and stepped into his room. His bare back was facing you, muscles rippling as he leaned over to unbutton his pants.

Your cheeks grew hot. "Um- you know, you could have told me to wait and gotten dressed first."

He turned around, stepping out of his pants and laying them next to his discarded shirt on the bed.

"I was not aware you were such a prude."

You scoffed and mumbled something under your voice about "public decency", trying to hide the anxiousness creeping into your tone. He strolled past you with an air of nonchalance, naked save for his boxers.

"So are you going to tell me why you're here?" he continued after several moments, folding his clothes with all the ease of someone who's never had to do their own laundry. He slipped a silk robe over his body before pivoting towards you, his eyes boring into yours.

You let out a breath of air. "Um... I need to ask. What's going on here? With us?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. What is it you want from this?"

He shook his head. "Déjà vu. You have already asked me this. My answer has not changed."

"Sure. My company, huh?" You replied in an insinuating tone.

"If you are implying that I expect you to do sexual favors for me, do not worry. I would have asked by now."

"What a gentleman."

"Mmm. When I say company, I mean company, chérie."

"Alright. Well..." you stepped towards him, shaking off any lingering feelings of hesitance. "I think you're a coward."

He moved closer, a dark look crossing his face. "Oh, do you?"

"Yeah. You know, I hear a lot around here. And I see how you pull the strings to ensure that everyone but you faces John Wick."

His jaw hardened. "It would be wise not to involve yourself in things that do not concern you."

"See, but you being a coward does concern me. I mean, it must be why you're just biding time until I make a move on you. Since you won't be the one to do it."

You were playing with fire, taunting him like this. You'd know him long enough to become immune to his attempts at intimidation, however.

He treaded backwards, barking out a laugh. It was strange to see him lose his perfectly-maintained composure even for a brief moment.

"You think you know everything, non?"

"I know more than you think," you countered. "You didn't deny it, after all."

"So this was the purpose of the visit? You have come to lecture me for not being man enough?"

"No. I came to ask you to be honest."

"I am not an honest man, chérie. You should know that. So what is it you want me to say?"

You were aware you were about to give away the upper hand, but fuck it.

"It'd like to know if you really do want me."

He shook his head, lips pursed together in amusement. "And did you not just boldly declare that I do?” 

"Stop toying with me."

He let out a sigh of exasperation. "I cannot understand why you ask me this. If I did not want you, why would you be here? I have given you space, and you interpret this as a sign of cowardice. I did not think boldly pursuing you would go over well. My mistake."

"That's not what I'm saying," you retorted, an indignant cry escaping your lips. "I'm alone in this house most of the time, and when you are here, you treat me as if I'm invisible. I feel like the fucking toy that the spoiled brat refuses to play with."

"You believe this is how I see you?"

"Yes, I believe it," you spat.

He laughed again, the sound not as sharp as before, humorless.

"How wrong you are."

"Then tell me your side of the story.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on either side of him.

"I decided I would not send you to the front lines of this war with John Wick. I am confident I will win, bien sûr, but not without casualties. I did not want you to be one."

"Why?"

"J'sais pas. A feeling I had that I cannot explain. I just knew I wanted to give you a way out. I..." he trailed off. "I did not do it to taunt you, as you think. And I am not indifferent towards you. I thought that much was obvious."

"How wrong you are," you imitated.

"You are one to talk, chérie. You walk around as if you hate me and everything I stand for."

"I wish I did,” you replied ruefully.

His expression was unreadable. You approached him, standing over his form on the bed. Tentatively, you reached out to untie his robe, your movements slow in the case that he'd want you to stop. He stared up at you with unblinking eyes as you slid the folds of his robe to the side, revealing his bare chest. He shrugged the rest of the garment off, allowing it to fall to the floor. You slowly ran your hand across his abs down to his happy trail. 

"Do you like what you see?" he murmured, his eyes searching you for validation that you were surprised a man of his status would be asking for.

"I saw it before when you were walking around half-naked, but yes, I do."

Ignoring your sarcastic comment, as he tended to do, he gestured towards your own clothing. "Take it off."

You were too caught up in the headiness of the moment to protest that he'd phrased it as a demand. You pulled your nightgown over your head, and it joined the clothing pile on the floor.

Gazing at you intently, he placed his hands firmly on your waist and pulled you towards him. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and then the other in turn, swirling his tongue around your nipples. You dug your hands into his brunette locks as he peppered your chest with love bites, exercising his newfound lack of restraint. 

It was hypnotizing to see his guard go down, a hungry, animalistic fervor overtaking him. He was feverish with his movements as he pulled you to straddle him, his hard cock pressing against you. You tugged down his boxers and let the member spring free, admiring it for a moment before moving your hand in front of you to pump it up and down. You adopted a slow pace to offset his sudden frenzy, determined to leave him wanting more.

He slid backwards across the bed and you followed, your hands still working around his cock. He laid his head down on the pillow, looking at you lazily with hooded eyes.

"This must be how all of your fucks go, huh? You just lay down while the other person gets you off?" you teased while suspecting there was some truth to the notion.

"I'm simply fulfilling the role you've already carved out for me, non?" he retorted, reaching out his hand to smooth your hair back.

You spit on your hand and lubed up his cock, feeling the intensity of his gaze burning your face. You pressed down on his shoulders for support as you lifted yourself up into a crouching position, lining him up with your entrance. 

He sat up slightly, helping guide you onto his cock with eagerness. He sloppily buried himself inside you, and you began to create friction, bouncing up and down with your legs wrapped around him and your nails digging into his shoulders. 

You relished in the effect that your ministrations had upon him. He was a silent lover beside the occasional soft breath or inhale, but his pleasure revealed itself through his body language; his mouth gaped slightly open, eyebrows furrowed, head arched back. You couldn’t help but admire him.

The two of you moved in harmony, soaking in your collective loss of inhibitions as your pace grew faster. You’d caught yourself imagining this a few times late at night, cursing yourself as your hand crawled down to the hem of your nightgown. 

It felt so much fucking better when it was real. 

You scratched deep marks in his skin as ecstasy washed over you, climbing closer to your high, your walls clenching against his cock. Suddenly he was trying to move you off him, and the spell was broken as you looked down at him in confusion.

"Lay down on your stomach," he instructed, and again you bent to his will.

You felt his arm snake around you from behind, his hand clamping down around your neck. You went lightheaded from the sudden loss of oxygen, and a moan escaped your mouth as you felt him enter you again.

"Is this man enough for you, chérie?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he rammed into you from behind.

He was pounding you mercilessly, and you knew that to tell him to stop was to reveal further weakness. You moved to brace yourself against the bed frame, but his hands were on your arms, pinning you down so you were entirely at his mercy.

"Tell me I'm a fucking coward now," he challenged.

"You're - not - a - coward," you managed to choke out, his thrusts continuing to increase in intensity, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberating throughout the room.

He hummed his approval, before taking ahold of you and flipping you onto your back. His left hand moved to play with your clit as the other returned to your throat. Your back arched in anticipation, your body tingling from the combination of his cock thrusting into you and the movement of his fingers.

"I'm gonna cum," you cried out.

"Ouais, cum for me."

Your body trembled under the weight of your orgasm. As soon as you'd collapsed back down, he quickly pulled out of you, letting out a guttural groan as he shot his load over your tits and upper stomach.

He reached his index finger into the mess, drawing a heart in the sticky liquid and completing with an arrow through the center. The juvenile gesture caught you entirely off-guard until you looked up to see the amused, self-satisfied expression on his face. 

He pressed his finger against your lips, gently nudging for you to open it. You took his finger into your mouth, sucking it clean.

The Marquis laid down beside you, his eyes roving over your body. You surveyed his in return, unused to seeing the skin that he always had hidden under layers of a suit. You half-expected him to tell you to get out, maybe even toss you a twenty-dollar bill, but he said: "Do you want to sleep here tonight?"

It took you a moment to process the question. "Uh- yeah, I guess I will."

"Très bon. I will get you a cloth to clean up.”

He rolled off the bed. As you listened to him rifle through the cabinets, you were hit with the realization that you'd crossed a line you couldn't come back from. You'd fallen into his trap and given yourself over to him, just as he'd always suspected you would. 

He returned to your side, handing you a plush washcloth. You wiped off the evidence of your clandestine encounter, but as he turned off the lights and pulled you under the covers with him, you knew it stained you somewhere deeper. 

When you closed your eyes, all you could see was the haunting portrait. And all that lingered on your mind was a deal with the devil. The Table still had its claws in you.

[theflyindutchwoman]

I want to talk a bit more about Lucy and that feeling of isolation that seems to be one of her main theme this season. While it may not have been as prominent lately, with Grey checking in on her or her burgeoning friendship with Celina, this feeling was back in full force in this episode. Only, this time, it was the writing that brought it out, not the camera work.

The way the team immediately rallied behind Tim and was ready to cross the line or risk their careers was so bittersweet. It was heartwarming to see that support for Tim… But it also emphasised Lucy's lack of support, making the contrast even more painful. When she mentioned how she had created several covers in anticipation of becoming a detective, this was the perfect opportunity for Angela and Nyla to be encouraging and sympathetic… to show some anger too on her behalf… anything, really. But no. Not one reaction from the two women who were mentoring her… And on a more personal matter - not one single person acknowledged Lucy's birthday. What makes it worse is that John's presence at her apartment was the perfect opportunity for that as well… But no. Instead, he had this deer-in-the-headlights look when Lucy started to open up about how she was feeling. From the way she was talking, it is all too clear that she still hasn't fully processed everything that has happened to her, that she is in dire need to talk things out with someone… but so far, besides Grey (her boss!), no one has really bothered to take the time to sit with her.

Like @roguetwelve so eloquently said, this episode highlighted how Tim could still count on Lucy and Angela as a support system… and how Lucy no longer has that. With Jackson's death and Tim's breakup, she really is on her own.

[creepycranberry]

Orange juice

2

Rafe Cameron x reader

Kind of Platonic! Kie x Rafe?

Warnings: talk of alcoholism, drug use, grief, depression, pregnancy, rehab, parental issues, spoilers (?),not proofread, let me know if there’s more.

->->->->->->

Rafe knew Christmas wouldn’t exactly be ideal this year, he had tried his best to do the same as his family had done his whole childhood- sans the family.

Sarah was going to be giving birth soon so Christmas at theirs was small, Rafe had gotten the baby a gift as well as something for his little sister.

He decided to drop off the gifts a couple weeks before Christmas.

“Why are you dropping these off now?” Sarah asked, attempting to crouch to put the presents under the tree that she already had put up. Rafe took them from her and set them under the tree himself, “and who’s this third one for?”

“Kie.” Rafe clears his throat.

“Kie?”

“Yeah. Figured she’d had a pretty hard year. And I’m gonna be headed out of town around actual Christmas and I don’t know if I’ll see you before then so I thought I’d drop them off today.” He shrugs, itching the back of his head.

“What is it?” Sarah asks, looking at the poorly wrapped box, the snowman print crinkled in a way that made the snowmen’s faces seem oddly distorted.

“Nothing important.” Rafe shrugs, “I just- it’s nothing.”

“Okay. Well thank you for the gifts.” Sarah smiles, “where are you going for Christmas?”

“Just gonna be on the mainland for a few days. Business stuff.”

“Are you going to see her?”

“Who?” Rafe badly feigns cluelessness.

“Rafe.”

“Yeah. I am.” He conceded, “She thinks she may be ready to come back this year. Or that’s what Marjories telling me.”

Sarah smiles and begins folding the basket of freshly washed clothing. Over the last few months her and Rafe have become somewhat closer. Rafe had felt the need to help protect snd provide for Sarah and his niece or nephew. Last time he was over she was attempting to clean baseboards. Every time he comes over she seems to be doing something different to prepare her home “just in case the baby comes early.

Rafe thinks she’s become too used to things not going to plan.

And over the months as he’s come to visit Sarah he’s seen Kie more and more. She never talks much, if at all, but she’s less resentful towards him. And Rafe can’t find it in him to resent her when she always looks depressed, like she’s missing something. And he supposes she is.

“They’re letting you talk to her?” Sarah asks.

“She’s been out of the rehabilitation center for a while and she’s been living with her aunt. She’s Not exactly under lock and key.” Rafe retorts.

“You just haven’t mentioned talking to her in a few years.” Sarah shrugs, using her stomach to set a shirt on as she spoke, “I wasn’t sure if you were out of contact by choice or by like circumstances.”

“Well I’ve been somewhat preoccupied and I- I didn’t want her to know how I’d been the last few years. I want her to know me now, you know?”

“I get it.” Sarah says.

She seemed gentler now more than usual. It might have been the pregnancy but something in her was put at ease when they got back home. Rafe thought that perhaps if something else were to happen she would finally have an excuse to stay back, that her duty to her child would outweigh her loyalty to John B.

Or maybe it was just the pregnancy.

The sound of soft footsteps down the hallway catch rafe and Sarah’s attention. The both look up the see Kie pattering into the living room, wearing a tshirt that was clearly not hers.

Rafe was pretty sure he knew who it belonged to though, “hey, Kie.” He smiles easily, trying to make his presence in her home feel less invasive.

“Rafe. What’s going on?” Kie sighs, leaning against the doorframe.

“Just dropping off Christmas presents.”

“Isn’t that like a bit from now?” Kie asks.

“It’s in a week and a half.” Sarah smiles. She was used to Kies perception of time being off. It had been like this for months.

“Oh,” Kie clears her throat, clearly somewhat embarrassed.

“Creeped up on me too.” Rafe offers and Kie nods.

“Good to know,” she tried her best to smile and return rafe’s politeness. She was still getting used to him being on their side. She had to remind herself that he didn’t want to be their enemy, “Sarah, are there still leftovers from the other night?”

“I hid a smaller container away from the boys. It’s in the vegetable drawer.”

Kie smiles at Sarah and waves awkwardly to Rafe, turning and heading into the kitchen.

“Has she uh, been doing any better?” Rafe asks. He had listened to Sarah ramble about her anxiety towards Kies grief, he knew if there was good news to report it would give Sarah some sense of hope but if there wasn’t at least he could revel in the fact that Sarah is confiding in him again.

“Depends on what you mean by better but she’s more functional.”

“I’m glad.” Rafe says, seemingly surprising Sarah. She wasn’t used to him being genuine quite yet, “functional is a good step forward. I uh- I would know.”

Sarah smiles at him like she used to and it makes his heart jump. He went into this with the intention to fix his family for his father, but in the process he just remembered how much he loved her when they were little. Now it was more for human connection than anything to do with his father’s wishes.

Rafe excuses himself from the house and gets in his truck, letting the engine run for a minute to warm him up before he starts driving.

->->->->->->

You sat in the car with your aunt, silence thick between the two of you. Your parents had given up on you entirely after you had gone to the hospital with alcohol poisoning after sneaking out and not coming home for days. Aunt Marnie took you in. Flew you to New York, put you into a smaller teen rehab situation and you stayed there for months before actually being able to move in with her.

She wasn’t one to let you slip up, she kept you going to meetings and therapy. Conversation wasn’t either of your strong suit, you had a shared understanding of one another and were content being in each others presence.

“The Cameron boy called.” Your aunt informs you and your eyebrows shoot up.

“He called you?” Aunt Marnie nods and you shake your head, “radio silence for three years and then he calls you?”

“He asked about coming down for Christmas and possibly taking you home for a couple weeks to visit.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him we’d see how Christmas went. And that he’d have to speak to you about it of course.”

You stew for a few Minutes and aunt Marnie waits, knowing you’ll say what you’re wanting to in time.

“Three years and now he wants to visit?” You ask incredulously, cynicism lacing your words.

“He sounds better than he was the last time I spoke to him.” She informs you and you shake your head.

“He’s such an ass.” You mumble, “and he couldn’t even contact me directly about it?”

“From what I understand the last few years have been hard on him. His father died not too long ago, let’s not forget.” Marnie always tried to see the other side of things. She was eccentric and positive and no nonsense.

“But what about before that? Before all of that shit?”

“Language, young lady.” Marnie warns and you press your lips into a thin line, “and that’s a question for him. Just hear him out before you let your anger get the best of you.”

You nod and look out the window. The snow was falling in a thick white haze. You hated New York when you first moved here. It was too crowded and the people were rude and traffic was hell.

But then one day you were sitting on the balcony at the rehabilitation home and you were painting. It was cold, you had your comforter wrapped around you tightly and a hot cup of coffee. The place Marnie put you in was unconventional at best. It wasn’t even really an official rehab center you just didn’t know what else to call it.

It was the home of an old woman your Aunt was friends with. There were only a few other kids there. It was quiet for the most part, it was relaxing and enjoyable at times.

Miss Leigh had a long list of rules, she didn’t allow many kinds of medicine, she was very against soda and she didn’t take shit from anyone. She checked rooms once a day to make sure no one had anything they shouldn’t have and she made sure to be very hands on in the healing process of the kids she took in.

Her son had died at nineteen from alcohol and drug use and she had dedicated her life from that point to helping kids like him. You weren’t sure if it was legally considered a rehab or even a business but it worked for you.

Each person there was on a schedule fitted to them. Yours involved a lot of distractions, hobbies, and chores. Distractions seemed to work for you so you didn’t think about the mental and physical toll that withdrawal was having on you. You read when you woke up, helped with lunch, ate lunch, helped clean the kitchen, took a walk, painted, helped Miss Leigh with her flower beds, helped with dinner ate dinner, sometimes dessert and then you would sit on the porch with Miss Leigh until her bedtime and then you painted some more. And then once a week your aunt would pick you up and take you to therapy, then to dinner and then back to Miss Leigh’s.

you painted outside mainly, listening to the birds and one of the records from Miss Leigh’s extensive collection and trying to keep from thinking about your parents or how much you wanted a drink and a blunt or a certain blonde haired girl and her brother.

It had been cold for weeks but there hadn’t been any snow, despite Miss Leigh sitting in the kitchen every day saying that today would be the day. It was dark outside and Miss Leigh had already gone to bed. The lights were on in the garden where two of the other kids sat on the fenced in patio with a chess board.

You were focused on your painting, humming along to a record when you heard some laughter and squealing in the garden. And when you looked you realized snow was falling heavily. You’d never seen snow this heavy before. You completely abandoned your painting to watch it fall. You watched it until you fell asleep and you ended up sick for days after but you didn’t mind so long as you could sit at your window and watch the snow fall.

You’d wanted to call Rafe about it so badly but you wouldn’t be able to actually talk to him until you went to live with your aunt officially.

You found yourself wanting to call him all of the time, more than you thought to when you lived in the same town as him. You never had to call him really, he was always there.

You missed it.