#mom found the blood drawer

[fluffthedragonpup]

STATUS UPDATE:

TIME TAKEN: 2 : 48 : ??

CURRENT OBJECTIVE: SHOW MY ART

Credits to a friend of mine for helping me with it's proportions 🫶

ဗ~I drew V1 to use as a PFP for some of my other stuff so have this ig

Got too lazy to draw the arms but I hope you guys like it 🫶

MY MOTIVATION IS DEAD.

INSPIRATION IS FUEL.

TUMBLR IS FULL.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty

Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well. 

I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3.  Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened

p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),

—

When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you. 

They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all. 

You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list. 

Until one of them changed your mind. 

It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty. 

‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath. 

Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.

As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne. 

‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.

‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’

You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’ 

Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl. 

‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.

‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile. 

‘’They were really good.’’ 

‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.

Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice. 

The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses. 

Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back. 

From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself. 

He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.

You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college. 

‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’ 

You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.

Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’ 

He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating. 

Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later. 

You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home. 

Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs. 

‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’ 

He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck. 

The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing  in the parking lot. 

Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.  

You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends. 

You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them? 

Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship. 

You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier. 

He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place. 

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away. 

Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.  

‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’

Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.

He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’

Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’

You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game. 

Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’ 

‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  

Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it. 

It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later. 

When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him. 

He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.

The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.

His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl. 

''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.  

The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again. 

Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.

He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’

You hummed, although confused where he was going with this. 

‘’This is better.’’ 

Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm. 

The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.

You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.

Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.

Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.

‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast. 

It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions. 

He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight. 

You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing. 

Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing. 

You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’ 

He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.  

‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway. 

You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy. 

‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter. 

You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''

Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.

You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…

‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.

Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''

‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed. 

It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself. 

His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  

Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.

You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.

Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him. 

More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.

Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.  

You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose. 

Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.

‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.

‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.

You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’ 

‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’

‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.

Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’ 

Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.

The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.

Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand. 

‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’ 

He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now. 

You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’ 

Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire. 

You didn't mean to. It was an accident. 

The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him. 

When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.

Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice. 

You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up. 

Your morning coffee was calling your name.

Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands. 

You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax. 

He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.

‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’ 

Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’ 

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.  

‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.

He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’

‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.

Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’

You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’ 

To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom. 

‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder. 

You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’ 

‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday. 

Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom

You: You found us bus tickets? 

Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨

You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀

Jace: He’s not

You should have known it would be him. 

Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.

Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music. 

This weekend was looking to be long and difficult. 

Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving. 

''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.'' 

''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''

Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?'' 

Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?'' 

At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.  

When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room. 

You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture. 

Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew. 

You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated. 

Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake. 

‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say. 

He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom. 

So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.

‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.

Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice. 

Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''

You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’

‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.

At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.

At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up. 

‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?'' 

You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.

The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either. 

‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.'' 

You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug. 

Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food. 

You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.

Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.

‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''

The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.

You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you. 

You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you. 

Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’

‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.

Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’ 

Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.  

Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide. 

Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’

‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true. 

The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.

Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face.  ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’

‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.

But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’  

He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you. 

‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.

Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’  

The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances. 

What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway. 

You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms. 

The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.

The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it. 

It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.

—

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[mistywaves98]

Just this one thought that I had in my head and has been sitting in my drafts for a long time

Step bro! Scara who fucks you in front of the mirror... ¡Warnings!: NSFW, Stepcest, Mean-ish Scara, Belly bulge, Possible dubcon turned consensual(?), Proceed with caution!

It really wasn't what it looked like! You were just trying to find that book he 'borrowed' from you and never returned and you opened one of his dresser's drawers only to find a bunch of his underwear! It was truly an accident, but that's not what Scaramouche thought when he barged through the door, only to be met with the sight of you frantically trying to close the drawer. But what else was he supposed to think as he sneaked up behind you, arms curling around your waist as he teased you for being such a naughty step sis. You deserved punishment, right?

And that's how you found yourself bend over the same furnishing, getting your pussy pounded by his dick. His chest was flush against your sweaty back still covered by your jersey that he was too lazy to remove, his mouth right by your ear, allowing you to hear all the dirty whispers and groans as your walls clamped around him. "You're such a pervert, y'know that? Looking through your step brother's drawers like a creep. Were you hoping to steal one of my boxers to get your slutty pussy off later, hm? I bet you were."

Scaramouche grinned as one hand grabbed a clump of your hair, pulling your head back roughly as you moaned from the stinging sensation. He used the sight of your now exposed neck as an opportunity to sink his teeth into the tender skin, sucking and biting the flesh till a purple-red mark was left. He continues to leave hickeys all over your neck, occasionally groaning as your pussy squeezed his cock a bit tighter whenever his canines brushed a particularly sensitive spot.

Your palms were pressed against the glass of the mirror which was now fogged up from your excessive panting, body rocking against the coarse wood of the dresser. The movement causing some of his belongings resting atop it to clatter onto the ground, but Scaramouche couldn't care less. "Fucking hell— you're taking me so easily, like a whore... God—! Keep moaning like that f'me. You're lucky mom and dad aren't home yet..." He hisses into your ear, giving your ass a sharp slap before slamming his hips against yours, his tip painfully piercing your cervix.

You tried to apologize, even though you really didn't need to, but your step brother merely laughed as he continued to rail you into oblivion. Your inner thighs were a mess of your own slick mixed with his own and it only worsened with each thrust, the constant squelching resonating clearly in your ears and making you blush. The knot in your stomach was tightening, indicating your impending orgasm.

Scaramouche could feel his own climax approaching as well and it only prompted him to be rougher with you. One hand remained in your hair, the other rubbing a couple circles around your clit to make you whine before moving up to grasp the hem of your top, pulling it up and shoving it into your mouth. Your eyes widened as he exposed your torso, making you bite down on the fabric, saliva soaking it instantly. He fixed your gaze onto the mirror, making you watch just how lewd you appeared through the blur.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks as your eyes fell to the prominent bulge in your stomach no doubt formed by his girthy cock. The way it moved in and out of you made your eyes roll back, causing him to grin in response,"hmm? You enjoying the view? Look at your body, on display like a slut..." Even you couldn't deny how erotic it was, the scene looking like it was straight out of a porn film. Suddenly, your breath hitched as his slender fingers abruptly pressed down on the bump, making you wail as your cum coated the base of his cock.

Scaramouche moaned in delight at the sight of his adorable little step sister gushing around him, the sight enough to make him pull out as he came all over your lower back. The both of you remained in the same position for a while, trying to catch your breaths as the exhaustion caught up with both of you. Just then, you could've sworn that you heard the front door unlock...

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇seeds of uncertainty finding our way back part 7; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood, physical violence, blood mentioned, mature language, emotional manipulation

│words: 8.4 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! i hope you all had a lovely weekend! till now the story was somewhat a slow-burn when it came to certain aspects but it's going to change now! as always let me know your thoughts!

love, mon ♡

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤJongho entered the apartment, moving slowly and deliberately to avoid disturbing the sleeping child in his arms. With utmost care, he gently placed Nari's belongings on the corridor drawer, each item set down with a whisper-soft touch. He then removed his shoes, the familiar ritual feeling different tonight, weighted with the responsibility of the precious cargo he carried.

Nari stirred slightly in his arms, her small form shifting against his chest. "Are we home?" she asked, her voice a sleepy murmur that tugged at Jongho's heartstrings.

"Yes, sweetheart, we're home," Jongho whispered back, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. He infused his words with all the tenderness he felt. As he walked, he rubbed soothing circles on Nari's back, a rhythmic motion designed to lull her back into sleep. The door to Nari's room creaked softly as Jongho pushed it open with his elbow, careful not to jostle his daughter. He fumbled for a moment before finding the switch for her night light. A warm, comforting glow suffused the room as it flickered to life. Jongho carefully lowered Nari onto her bed, supporting her head and body to ensure a smooth transition from his arms to the mattress. As he laid her down, he couldn't help but marvel at how small and fragile she looked amidst the sea of pillows and plushies. He took a moment to tuck her in, pulling the comforter up to her chin with gentle, loving motions. As he did so, he found himself memorizing every detail of her peaceful face, from the soft curve of her cheek to the flutter of her eyelashes against her skin.

"Mommy?" Nari's voice, thick with sleep, broke the silence. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, a hint of confusion in their depths as she struggled against the pull of slumber.

Jongho's heart clenched at the sound. He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper as he sought to reassure her. "Shh, it's okay. Mommy will be here soon," he murmured, his fingers gently carding through Nari's hair in a soothing rhythm. The repetitive motion seemed to calm her, and he added softly, "For now, Uncle is here. Go back to sleep, angel." Nari's eyes drifted closed once more, succumbing to the irresistible call of sleep. Jongho settled himself on the edge of her bed. As Nari's breathing became calm and steady, Jongho took out his phone. Worried that you still weren't back, he sent a quick message: "Hey, is everything okay? Nari's asleep. Let me know when you're on your way home." He tucked the phone back into his pocket, then leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Nari's forehead. Satisfied that she was sleeping soundly, Jongho quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. He made his way to the kitchenette, his movements careful and deliberate in the quiet apartment. Pouring himself a glass of water, he leaned against the counter, his mind still reeling from the earlier encounter with Hyunwoo. The cool liquid did little to calm the storm of emotions swirling within him. The confrontation in the hallway played on repeat in his mind, each word, each accusation etching itself deeper into his consciousness. Jongho closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to process everything that had happened. The weight of fatherhood, which had felt so light and joyous earlier in the day, now seemed to press down on him with renewed intensity. Questions and doubts began to creep in, fueled by Hyunwoo's words. Had he truly been absent for too long? Could he make up for lost time? And most pressingly, how would he navigate this complex situation with Hyunwoo's apparent involvement in Nari's life? Jongho shook his head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. He reminded himself of the progress he'd made, of the bond he was forming with Nari. He set the glass down before making his way to the sofa, his body heavy with exhaustion. He sank into the plush cushions, letting out a deep sigh as the tension slowly ebbed from his muscles. For a moment, he contemplated turning on the TV to distract himself from the thoughts in his mind. However, he quickly decided against it, worried that the noise might disturb Nari's sleep. Instead, he allowed himself to relax further into the comfortable embrace of the sofa. Before he knew it, his eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted off into an unintended slumber.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤJongho wasn't sure how long he had been asleep when a sudden cry pierced through the veil of his unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open, instantly alert despite the fog of sleep still clinging to his mind. It took him a moment to register where he was and what was happening. Then, as the cry sounded again, louder this time, he bolted upright, his heart racing.

"Mommy!" Nari's cry echoed through the apartment, jolting Jongho fully awake. He was on his feet in an instant, his fatigue forgotten as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Without hesitation, he rushed towards Nari's room, his heart pounding with concern for his daughter.

As he approached her door, he could hear her distressed whimpers growing louder. Jongho pushed the door open gently, not wanting to startle her further. "Nari, sweetheart," he called softly, stepping into the dimly lit room. "It's okay, I'm here."

Nari was sitting up in her bed, tears streaming down her face, her small hands clutching her favorite stuffed animal. As Jongho approached, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. "Where's Mommy?" she whimpered, her voice trembling.

Jongho's heart ached at the sight of his daughter's distress. He quickly moved to her bedside, sitting down gently and opening his arms. "Mommy's not here right now, sweetheart," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "But I'm here for you. Can I give you a hug?" Nari nodded softly before throwing herself into Jongho's arms, her tiny hands clutching at his shoulders, her small body still trembling. "Shh, angel," Jongho whispered, gently cradling her against his chest. He began to rock her slowly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It's okay, I'm here," he murmured, his voice soft and comforting. "You're safe, sweetheart. Uncle’s got you." He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, feeling her gradually relax in his embrace.

As Nari's sobs gradually subsided into quiet sniffles, Jongho continued to hold her, his heart swelling with an overwhelming mixture of love, protectiveness, and a newfound sense of purpose. In that moment, he realized just how profoundly he had come to care for this little girl. Being a father, which used to seem scary and overwhelming to Jongho, now felt natural and rewarding. His earlier worries faded away. Instead, he felt a strong desire to be the best father he could be for Nari. He was determined to give her all the love and support she needed.

"Would you like to lay down again, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper as he continued to cradle Nari in his arms. He could feel her small body still trembling slightly against his chest, a reminder of the vulnerability he now held in his embrace.

Nari shook her head, her voice muffled against his shirt as she replied, "No, I wanna sleep in Mommy's room." There was a brief pause, filled with the sound of her quiet sniffles, before she added hesitantly, "Wanna bathe."

Jongho found himself at a crossroads, carefully considering Nari's requests. The rational part of his mind reminded him that it was late, and a bath at this hour wasn't exactly ideal. However, as he gazed down at Nari's tear-stained face and felt her small body still quivering from her earlier distress, his heart made the decision for him. Perhaps the warm, soothing water would help calm her frayed nerves and wash away the remnants of her nightmare.

"Okay, sweetheart," he said gently, his hand moving to stroke her hair in a comforting rhythm. "How about we have a quick, warm bath to help you feel better, and then you can sleep in Mommy's room? Does that sound good to you?" His voice was soft and reassuring, filled with a tenderness he didn't even know he possessed until this moment. Nari nodded against his chest, her sobs now quieting to small, intermittent hiccups. Jongho could feel her body relaxing slightly in his arms, the tension slowly ebbing away. With careful movements, he stood up slowly, still holding her close to his heart. "Alright, let's get you that bath," with Nari still clinging to him, Jongho navigated through her room, his movements gentle yet purposeful. He rummaged through her drawers with one hand, the other securely holding his daughter close. His fingers sifted through the neatly folded clothes, searching for a pair of soft, comfortable pajamas and clean underwear. Once he had gathered everything they needed, he made his way to the bathroom, his steps slow and steady to avoid jostling Nari.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIn the bathroom, Jongho carefully sat Nari down on the closed toilet lid, making sure she was stable before reluctantly letting go. He turned his attention to the bathtub, twisting the faucet to release a stream of warm water. As the tub began to fill, he reached for the bottle of bubble bath, adding a generous squeeze to the running water. Almost immediately bubbles began to form, filling the air with a soft, comforting scent. The change in Nari's demeanor was almost instantaneous.

As she caught sight of the rising bubbles, a small smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth, chasing away the last vestiges of her earlier distress. "Bubbles!" she exclaimed softly. Jongho couldn't help but mirror her smile, feeling relieved at the sight of her brightening mood.

"That's right, sweetheart," he said, "Lots and lots of bubbles, just for you." He dipped his hand into the water, swirling it around to test the temperature. Satisfied that it was comfortably warm but not too hot, he turned back to Nari. "Okay, little one, let's get you in the tub. The bubbles are waiting for you." With gentle, careful movements, Jongho helped Nari out of her day clothes, then he lifted her with tender hands and slowly lowered her into the warm, bubbly water. As Nari settled into the tub, surrounded by shimmering foam, her eyes lit up with pure, childish delight. The earlier tears were now replaced by a look of wonder as she reached out to scoop up a handful of bubbles, giggling as they slipped through her fingers. Watching her, Jongho felt a warmth spread through his chest, a feeling so profound it almost took his breath away. At that moment, as he knelt beside the bathtub, watching his daughter play in the bubbles, all the doubts and fears that had plagued him earlier seemed to dissolve. This, he realized, was what fatherhood was truly about - these small, precious moments of joy and comfort. With a gentle smile, he reached for the shampoo, ready to help his daughter finish her bath and prepare for a peaceful night's sleep.

"Alright, angel, time to towel off and put on some pajamas," Jongho said, reaching for a fluffy towel. He helped Nari stand up in the tub, carefully wrapping the towel around her small frame. With gentle movements, he lifted her out of the bath and set her down on the bathmat. As he began to dry her off, Jongho couldn't help but marvel at how natural this all felt now. The initial awkwardness and uncertainty had given way to a sense of purpose and love that filled his entire being. He carefully patted Nari dry, making sure to be extra gentle with her hair "There we go, all dry," he smiled, reaching for the clean pajamas he had brought. "Let's get you dressed and ready for bed, sweetheart." Jongho helped Nari into her pajamas, carefully buttoning up the soft fabric.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThey made their way back to the living room. Jongho intended to lay Nari down on the sofa. However, she clung tightly to him, her small arms wrapped around his neck. Sensing her need for comfort, Jongho decided to sit down with her still in his arms. "It's okay, sweetheart," he murmured softly, reaching for a nearby blanket. He draped it over both of them, cocooning them in its warmth. Nari snuggled closer, her head resting against his chest. Jongho began to gently rock her, his voice low and soothing as he started to hum a lullaby. The melody, soft and comforting, filled the quiet room. He felt Nari's body gradually relax against him, her breathing becoming slower and more even. As he continued to sing, Jongho marveled at the moment. The weight of his daughter in his arms, the trust she placed in him, filled his heart with an indescribable warmth. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his voice never faltering in the lullaby. In the quiet of the night, father and daughter sat together, enveloped in a blanket of warmth and love, the gentle lullaby a testament to their growing bond.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou walked into the quiet apartment, your head pounding from an exhausting day at work. Closing the door silently behind you, you moved through the space. Your gaze immediately went to Nari's room, but you found her bed empty. A momentary panic gripped your heart before you quickly looked to the living room. There, you noticed a disheveled tuft of fluffy brown hair on a pillow, soft snores filling the room. Relief washed over you as you approached quietly. The sight before you made your heart swell with affection. Nari was curled up in Jongho's arms, her small form rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Careful not to wake them, you gently adjusted the blanket, ensuring it covered both sleeping figures. You placed a soft kiss on Nari's forehead, yet your eyes lingered on Jongho. Smiling, you ran your hand gently on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his lower lip. The man you loved—or perhaps still loved—the father of your daughter, looked angelic. His arms were wrapped loosely around Nari, her head resting against his chest. You couldn't count how many times you had dreamed of a moment like this, to walk into not a house, but a home—a home that you dreamed of creating with Jongho. Tears welled up in your eyes, your heart bursting with emotion. You smiled, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest. God, you would do anything to get to see this each day. The scene before you was everything you had ever wanted, yet it felt just out of reach. Jongho and Nari, were peacefully asleep, looking like the perfect family you had always imagined.

As you stood there, watching them sleep, a mix of joy and longing washed over you. Joy for the growing bond between Jongho and Nari, and longing for what could have been—what still might be, if you dared to hope. You wondered if there was a way to bridge the gap, to turn this fleeting moment into a lasting reality. But as quickly as those thoughts came, you pushed them aside. It was too soon, you reminded yourself. Jongho had only just returned to your life days ago. The wounds still lingered, the history between you unresolved. You couldn't let yourself get carried away by one tender moment, no matter how it tugged at your heartstrings. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. This was a time for caution, for careful steps forward. You needed to focus on what was best for Nari, on building a stable co-parenting relationship with Jongho. Romance and reconciliation were thoughts for another time, if ever. For now, you had to keep your feet firmly on the ground, even as your heart yearned to soar.

You shook your head, chiding your own thoughts. Maybe you could allow yourself to be selfish, just for the next couple of hours. Settling down next to Jongho, you rested your head on his shoulder and placed a soft kiss on his neck. Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into the warmth of his presence. The steady rhythm of his breathing and Nari's soft snores filled the quiet room. In this moment, wrapped in the cocoon of familial warmth, a sense of peace washed over you. It was a fleeting indulgence, you knew, but one your heart desperately needed. As you drifted off to sleep, a small part of you wondered what the morning would bring. But for now, in this perfect slice of time, you allowed yourself to simply be—a mother, a woman, part of this little family unit that felt so right, even if it was just for tonight.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe soft morning light filtered through the curtains, gently illuminating the living room. Nari stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She lifted her head from Jongho's chest, her gaze wandering until it landed on you, nestled against Jongho's side. For a moment, confusion clouded her sleepy eyes. Then, as recognition dawned, her face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight. "Mommy?! Uncle?!" she exclaimed, her voice a blend of excitement and bewilderment. Her sudden outburst broke the peaceful silence of the morning, causing both you and Jongho to stir. You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented as you realized the position you were in - snuggled close to Jongho, his arm around you, his head resting atop yours. Jongho, too, began to wake, his arm instinctively tightening around you before his eyes snapped open, suddenly alert. The realization of your proximity dawned on him, and you could feel the sudden tension in his body.

Nari, oblivious to the adults' awkwardness, giggled with delight. "Mommy and Uncle were sleeping together!" she announced, her innocent observation hanging in the air between you and Jongho. Her eyes widened with excitement as a new thought struck her. "Will I have a baby brother now?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with innocent hope and curiosity. You felt your cheeks flush crimson, your eyes darting to meet Jongho's equally startled gaze. The awkwardness in the room intensified tenfold as you both struggled to find an appropriate response to Nari's unexpected question.

Jongho cleared his throat, his voice slightly strained as he attempted to address Nari's innocent question. "Angel, that's not... I mean, it doesn't quite work like that," he stumbled over his words, shooting a desperate glance your way. The situation had caught him completely off guard, and he found himself struggling to find an appropriate explanation for a child's curious mind.

You stepped in, "Nari, honey, Mommy, and Uncle were just sleeping. That doesn't mean we're going to have a baby." You could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks, acutely aware of Jongho's presence beside you. You silently hoped that your explanation would satisfy Nari's curiosity.

Your daughter's brows furrowed in confusion, her gaze darting between you and Jongho. "But you were sleeping together, like in the movies!" she insisted, her child-like logic unshakeable. Her innocent observation hung in the air, making the atmosphere even more uncomfortable. Nari's eyes lit up with excitement as she exclaimed, "When big mommies and daddies sleep together in movies, they have babies!" Jongho let out a nervous chuckle, running his hand through his hair. The two of you exchanged a panicked glance, desperately trying to figure out how to handle this unexpected turn in the conversation.

"Sweetie," Jongho began gently, his voice soft and patient, "sometimes adults sleep close to each other because they care about each other, but that doesn't always mean a baby is coming. Mommy and I were just resting together because we were tired." He looked at you, silently hoping his explanation was adequate and wouldn't prompt more difficult questions from your inquisitive daughter.

Nari's lower lip trembled as she crossed her arms, a pout forming on her face. Her eyes, wide with disappointment, looked up at both of you imploringly. "But I want a baby brother," she insisted, her voice taking on a whiny tone that tugged at your heartstrings. "Mommy's big and Uncle's big so can you make me one now?" Her innocent request, born out of a child's simple desire for a playmate, only served to heighten the awkwardness of the situation.

You felt your face grow even hotter if that was possible. Glancing at Jongho, you saw his eyes widen in panic, mirroring your own feelings of discomfort and uncertainty. "Having a baby is a very big decision that grown-ups make after a lot of thought and planning. It's not something we can just do right now because you want it." Jongho spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully to ensure Nari could understand without opening the door to more complicated questions.

You nodded in agreement, adding, "That's right, little one. And remember, Uncle and I aren't... we don't..." you trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words to explain the complexities of adult relationships to a child. The situation felt like navigating a minefield, each word potentially leading to more confusion or misunderstanding.

Jongho jumped in to help, sensing your difficulty. "Mommy and I care about each other very much, but we're not together in the way that people are when they decide to have a baby. Do you understand?" His voice was gentle but firm, trying to convey the message in a way that would make sense to Nari's young mind.

Nari's pout deepened, her eyes filling with tears that threatened to spill over. The disappointment was evident on her face as she processed the information. "But I want a brother," she sniffled, her voice small and filled with sadness. The sight of her distress tugged at both your hearts, making the situation even more challenging to navigate.

You pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair gently, you spoke in a soothing tone, "I know, angel. I understand you want someone to play with. But for now, how about we focus on all the fun things we can do together? Just the three of us?" You hoped that redirecting her attention might help ease her disappointment and change the subject to something more positive.

Jongho reached out, gently patting Nari's back in a show of support. "That's right," he added, "How about we start with a special breakfast? Would you like that?" He glanced at you, silently communicating his hope that this suggestion might successfully divert Nari's attention from the sensitive topic at hand.

The little girl's face brightened slightly at the mention of food, her earlier disappointment momentarily forgotten. She looked up, her eyes still a bit watery but now sparkling with a hint of excitement. "Can we have pancakes again?" she asked, her voice hopeful and eager. The simple question was a welcome reprieve from the previous conversation, offering a way out of the awkward situation.

You and Jongho shared a relieved look over Nari's head, both grateful for the change of subject. "Pancakes sound perfect," you said, your voice filled with enthusiasm to match Nari's renewed excitement.

You looked at Jongho as he took Nari in his arms and rose from the sofa. "Ready to make some delicious pancakes again with me, princess?" he asked, his voice warm and playful. Nari's face lit up with excitement, her earlier disappointment completely forgotten. The sight of Jongho with Nari in his arms, heading to the kitchen with such ease and familiarity, stirred something in your heart. It was a bittersweet feeling - joy at seeing their bond grow stronger, coupled with a lingering sense of what could have been.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Jongho's gentle voice. "Y/N? If you want to, you can go and take a shower. We'll prepare breakfast for you. Right, princess?" he said, looking down at Nari with a warm smile.

Nari nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! We'll make the best pancakes ever for Mommy!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.

You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. "That sounds wonderful," you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude for this moment of normalcy amidst the complex emotions swirling within you. "I'll go freshen up then. Thank you."

As you headed towards the bathroom, you could hear Nari's excited chatter and Jongho's patient responses fading into the kitchen. The domesticity of the scene both warmed your heart and made it ache, a reminder of the delicate balance you were all trying to maintain. In the shower, you let the warm water wash over you, trying to clear your mind of the conflicting emotions. The morning's events played on repeat in your head - Nari's innocent questions, the awkward explanations, and the undeniable comfort you felt waking up next to Jongho. You stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel. right before walking out of the bathroom, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the day ahead.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe smell of pancakes wafted through the air as you opened the door, "The breakfast smells delicious," you said as you walked back to the living room, drying your hair with a small towel. "I can take it from here," you smiled at Jongho. "Maybe you'd like to freshen up a bit too?" you asked.

Jongho looked up from the pancake he was flipping, "I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

You hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting him to stay and knowing it might complicate things further. "You're not overstaying," you assured him softly. "Besides, Nari would love to have you here a bit longer." You paused, then added with a small smile, "And so would I."

Jongho's eyes widened in surprise at your words, and he quickly looked down, feeling heat creeping up his neck. The spatula in his hand trembled slightly as he tried to regain his composure. He cleared his throat, attempting to find the right words to respond. "I... I appreciate that," he managed to say, his voice slightly husky. He risked a glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before darting away again. The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions.

Nari's voice suddenly piped up from the kitchen, breaking the tension. "Uncle, is the pancake ready yet?" Her question brought both of you back to reality, Jongho cleared his throat again, this time more decisively. "I think I'll take you up on that offer to freshen up," he said, his voice steadier now. "Could you watch the pancakes for a moment?"

"Yes, just give me a second," you said, taking a few steps toward your closet. You weren't entirely sure how Jongho would react, but you felt compelled to retrieve something that had been tucked away for years. With slightly trembling hands, you rummaged through the lower drawers, searching for a box that had been left forgotten, yet one that you couldn't bring yourself to discard. It was a big, unassuming container, but it held within it a treasure of memories. You opened it carefully, as if handling a delicate artifact, and gently took out a few items of clothing, each one carrying the weight of shared history. Standing back up, you felt Jongho's eyes on you. You turned to face him, holding up a pair of grey sweatpant shorts and a dark green hoodie with a shy, tentative smile. These weren't just any clothes; they were remnants of a time when your lives were intertwined in the most intimate of ways. Jongho used to have his own drawer in your room when you were still together, a small but significant symbol of your shared life. You remembered with a pang of nostalgia how you'd wear his clothes while pregnant, finding comfort in his scent and the way the fabric draped over your changing body. These particular items were the clothes he had left behind five years ago, you had kept them all this time, unable to part with this tangible connection to your past. "I thought... maybe these might fit you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper and tinged with a complex mixture of nostalgia, uncertainty, and a hint of hope. The words hung in the air between you, laden with unspoken emotions and shared memories. "They're yours from... before," you continued, your voice catching slightly on the word 'before', as if it encompassed an entire world of experiences and feelings. "I hope you don't mind that I kept them," you added, your eyes searching his face for any sign of how he might be feeling. The simple act of offering these clothes felt monumental, as if you were extending not just fabric, but a piece of your shared history, a tentative bridge across the years that had separated you.

Jongho's eyes widened as he recognized the clothes, a flicker of emotion passing across his face. He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against the fabric as if touching a cherished memory. "You... you kept these?" he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion. The air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words and shared history as he gently took the clothes from your hands. For a moment, Jongho stood there, holding the clothes close to his chest, his eyes distant as if lost in memories. Then, with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he looked back at you. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I appreciate this more than you know." Jongho's fingers lingered on the fabric as if trying to absorb the memories it held. With a deep breath, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with gratitude "I'll go shower then," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to wrap around you both.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAs Jongho emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in the clothes you had given him, the enticing aroma of freshly made pancakes wafted through the air, filling the apartment with a comforting warmth. You and Nari had already set the table, a towering stack of golden, fluffy pancakes sitting invitingly in the center, accompanied by an array of toppings and syrups.

"Perfect timing," you said with a welcoming smile, gesturing for him to join you at the table. The sight of Jongho in his old clothes, now slightly snug on his more muscular frame, stirred a mix of nostalgia and something else you couldn't quite name.

As you all settled in to eat, Nari dominated the conversation with her animated chatter, regaling you both with a seemingly endless stream of stories from her preschool adventures. Her infectious enthusiasm filled the room, punctuated by giggles and dramatic gestures as she recounted tales of finger-painting mishaps and playground conquests. You and Jongho exchanged amused glances over her head, your shared laughter creating a bubble of warmth around the table. The atmosphere was cozy and comfortable, yet tinged with the bittersweet awareness of its temporary nature.

The meal drew to a close, with plates nearly empty and bellies satisfyingly full. Jongho glanced at his watch, a hint of reluctance clouding his eyes. "I should probably get going," he said softly, his gaze flicking between you and Nari as if torn between duty and desire.

Nari's face immediately fell, her earlier joy evaporating like morning mist. Her lower lip jutted out in a heart-wrenching pout, her eyes widening to impossibly large proportions. "But Uncle," she pleaded, her voice small and trembling, "can't you stay longer? Please?" Her imploring gaze darted between Jongho and you, silently begging for intervention, her little hands clasping together as if in prayer.

Jongho's expression softened at Nari's plea, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "I promise I'll be back soon, sweetheart," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring. "And you know what? I have an even better idea. How about we plan a special day with all the uncles? We could go to the park, and have a picnic. What do you think about that?"

"Really? All the uncles?" she asked, her voice rising with each word, filled with a mixture of hope and barely contained enthusiasm.

Jongho nodded, "Absolutely," he affirmed, reaching out to gently ruffle her hair. "We'll make it a day to remember. But for now, I need to head out. Can you be my brave little princess and give me a big hug goodbye?" Without hesitation, Nari launched herself into Jongho's arms, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck with all the strength her little body could muster.

As Jongho gently disentangled himself from Nari's embrace, you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter of nervousness in your chest. "Nari, sweetheart," you said softly, "why don't you go play in your room for a little while? Mommy needs to talk to Uncle for a moment before he leaves." Nari nodded obediently, her earlier excitement still evident in her bright eyes. She gave Jongho one last quick squeeze before scampering off to her room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Once Nari disappeared into her room, you turned to Jongho, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. "Let me walk you to the door," you said softly, gesturing towards the entryway. Jongho nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he followed your lead.

The short walk to the front door felt charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. As you reached the threshold, you both paused, Jongho turned to face you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Just as he was about to say goodbye, you reached out impulsively, your fingers gently encircling his wrist. He looked at you, surprise evident in his eyes, a question forming on his lips. You quickly pulled him outside, closing the door slightly to ensure Nari wouldn't hear.

Jongho looked at you questioningly, his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "Is everything alright?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you were about to say, words that had the power to change everything. "Jongho," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of your decision. "There's something important I need to tell you." You paused, gathering your courage, your hands shaking slightly as you met his gaze. "I... I've made a decision. I want Nari to know the truth. I want her to know that you're her dad." The words hung in the air between you, heavy with implications and unspoken emotions. You searched Jongho's face intently, your heart pounding against your ribcage as you waited for his reaction. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity as you stood on the precipice of change, the future of your little family balanced precariously on the edge of this moment.

Jongho's eyes widened, a myriad of emotions flashing across his face in rapid succession - surprise, disbelief, hope. For a moment, he stood perfectly still, as if frozen in time, processing your words. Then, slowly, he spoke, "Are you absolutely sure about this? I don't want to rush into anything if you're not completely ready. This is... this is a big step."

"No," you interjected quickly, not allowing him to finish his thought. Your voice grew stronger, more resolute with each word. "I'm certain about this. I want her to know the truth. You deserve to be recognized as her dad, to hear her call you 'Daddy.' I want this for her, for you... for us." Your eyes darted across his face, drinking in every nuance of his expression, your voice softening as you added, "That is... if it's what you want too?" The silence that followed was electric, you could hear your heart thundering in your ears, and feel the rush of blood in your veins as you waited for Jongho's response.

In this moment, the future of your unconventional family hung in the balance, poised on the edge of transformation.

Suddenly, Jongho's face broke into a radiant smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and lighting up with unbridled joy. A soft, melodious laugh escaped his lips, dispelling the tension that had built between you. "God, of course, I want this," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with emotion and barely contained excitement. "You have no idea how much I want it." His hands reached out, gently grasping yours, his touch sending a familiar tingle through your body, awakening memories and feelings long buried. Without warning, Jongho pulled you closer, enveloping you in a warm embrace. The scent of him surrounded you, bringing with it a rush of nostalgia and comfort. Without giving it a second thought, your lips found Jongho's in a tender, hesitant kiss. Your arms wound around his neck of their own, pulling him closer as his hands settled on your waist, holding you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. It started soft, a gentle exploration of forgotten territory. But quickly, the kiss deepened, years of pent-up emotions and unspoken feelings surging to the surface.

Lost in the rush of feelings, you didn't hear someone walking up until you heard slow clapping. The sound, at first barely noticeable, got louder, breaking the moment you were sharing. Your bodies separated as if shocked. As you turned towards the source of the interruption, your eyes fell upon Hyunwoo standing in the hallway, his expression shifted rapidly - shock, hurt, betrayal, and finally settling on a mixture of disbelief and resignation. His eyes, wide with surprise, darted between you and Jongho as if trying to piece together a puzzle he never wanted to solve. The slow clapping, which had initially seemed almost comical, now took on a bitter, almost sarcastic tone. Each clap echoed in the hallway, punctuating the heavy silence that had fallen over the three of you. As the reality of the situation sank in, Hyunwoo's posture changed. His shoulders, usually held high with confidence, seemed to slump under the weight of what he had witnessed. His hands fell limply to his sides, fingers curling into tight fists. The muscles in his jaw worked silently as if he were physically chewing on the words he wanted to say but couldn't quite bring himself to voice.

When Hyunwoo finally spoke, his voice was strained, barely concealing the turbulent emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Each word seemed to cost him great effort as if he were forcing them past a lump in his throat. "Well," he began, his tone a brittle attempt at nonchalance, "isn't this a touching scene." The sarcasm in his voice was palpable, a thin veneer barely masking the hurt that lay beneath. His gaze held a coldness that sent a shiver down your spine. Hyunwoo's voice dropped to a low, bitter whisper, his eyes clouding with a mixture of pain and resignation. "Lovers reunited after years," he said, the words dripping with sarcasm and hurt. "How could I even stand a chance?" A humorless chuckle escaped his lips, the sound hollow "How foolish of me to think that I stood a chance at all."

The hallway suddenly felt too small, too confining.

Hyunwoo's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with venom. "Have fun with your idol boyfriend," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "But let me know once he leaves you again." He paused, a cruel smirk twisting his features. "Hopefully without a second baby on the way this time."

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Jongho's body tensed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. In an instant, the warmth in his eyes was replaced by a fiery rage. He took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You fucking piece of shit," he snarled, his usually gentle demeanor completely gone. "You don't know shit about our situation. How fucking dare you speak to her like that? Who the fuck do you think you are?" His chest heaved with barely contained fury as he continued, spittle flying from his mouth, "I may have fucked up in the past, but I'm here now, I'm fighting for my goddamn family. And I won't let anyone, especially not a pathetic loser like you, disrespect Y/N or my daughter."

"Jongho, please..." you pleaded, placing your hand on his chest in an attempt to stop him from lunging at Hyunwoo. But your efforts were in vain; he was too strong, too enraged. In a flash, Jongho flew across the hallway, his hands reaching out to grab Hyunwoo.

Hyunwoo's expression shifted from anger to a cold, calculated smirk. "I wouldn't recommend that... at least not if you don't want me to give a call to one of those gossip websites," he threatened, his voice dripping with malice.

"You wouldn't!" you exclaimed, feeling your own nerves fraying at the edges. The situation was spiraling out of control, and you felt powerless to stop it. Desperately, you turned to Hyunwoo, your voice pleading. "Hyunwoo, please calm down." The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You stood there, caught between the two men, your heart racing as you desperately tried to think of a way to defuse the situation before it escalated any further.

Hyunwoo's face contorted with rage, his eyes blazing with a mixture of hurt and fury. "You think you can just waltz back into their lives and play happy families?" he snarled, "Where the fuck were you all these years, huh? Living it up while Y/N struggled to raise your kid alone?"

Jongho's jaw clenched, his muscles visibly tightening beneath his hoodie as he shifted his stance, getting ready for a possible fight. His eyes, usually warm and gentle, now blazed with an intensity that could melt steel. "You don't know anything about our situation," he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous low, each word dripping with barely contained fury. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension, his entire being radiating a palpable anger that threatened to explode at any moment.

Hyunwoo let out a bitter laugh that echoed harshly. His face contorted into a mask of disgust and resentment as he spat out his next words. "I know more than enough, you piece of shit. You're nothing but a selfish, spineless coward who abandoned a girl who loved you beyond reason. She was young, terrified, and completely alone, yet she chose to keep your baby. And where were you? Living it up as an idol, basking in the spotlight while she struggled through sleepless nights and endless worries. You don't deserve them, you pathetic excuse for a man. You don't deserve an ounce of their love or forgiveness!"

Both men stood their ground, bodies coiled like springs ready to unleash at the slightest provocation. Their heated exchange hung in the air like a powder keg, threatening to ignite into a full-blown physical confrontation at any moment.

"Y/N, please step back," Jongho whispered urgently, his eyes locked on Hyunwoo's face.

"Absolutely not!" you exclaimed. With swift, purposeful strides, you positioned yourself between the two men, your heart thundering in your chest. Adrenaline surged through your body as you extended your arms, palms facing outward towards each of them, creating a physical barrier. "Both of you, stop this immediately!" you demanded, your voice quavering but resolute. "This is pointless! We need to approach this situation rationally and discuss it like adults." Your eyes darted between them, silently pleading for reason to prevail. Turning to Hyunwoo, your gaze softened with empathy. "Hyunwoo, please," you implored, "This isn't you. I know you're hurting, but this isn't the way."

Shifting your attention to Jongho, your expression became more stern. "And Jongho," you said, your tone leaving no room for argument, "remember who you are and what's at stake here. Think about Nari, think about your career. Is this really how you want to handle this situation?"

The hallway fell silent, both men stood frozen, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they struggled to contain their anger. You remained steadfast between them, your posture unwavering, a living shield determined to prevent any further escalation. The weight of the moment pressed down on all three of you, each second stretching into eternity as you waited to see if reason would finally prevail over raw emotion.

Jongho took a step back, his fists still clenched. Under his breath, he muttered a string of profanities, his voice low and seething with anger. "Fucking asshole... piece of shit... who does he think he is..."

Suddenly, without warning, Hyunwoo lunged forward. His fist connected with Jongho's jaw with a sickening crack, the impact echoing through the hallway. Jongho stumbled backward, caught off guard by the sudden assault, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

You gasped, horrified by the sudden turn of events. "Stop it!" you screamed, your voice shrill with panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you watched Jongho recover from the initial shock. His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them as he wiped a trickle of blood from his split lip.

"I won't disrespect Y/N like that, I won't fight with you for her to see, and..." Jongho paused, his voice low and controlled despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Funny how you supposedly wanted to take my place in Nari's life but you don't have any respect for her mother." The hallway fell silent as the weight of his statement settled over you all. Hyunwoo's face contorted, a mix of emotions flashing across his features - anger, shame, and finally, a flicker of realization. The fight seemed to drain out of him, his shoulders slumping as the weight of Jongho's words sank in. He took a step back, his eyes darting between you and Jongho, as if seeing the situation clearly for the first time. "You are not a man, Hyunwoo," Jongho continued, his voice low and controlled. "And let me repeat this again, as I did yesterday: I don't want you near my daughter." With that, Jongho turned away from Hyunwoo and walked towards the elevators.

"Jongho, wait!" you called out, your voice cracking with desperation.

Jongho paused, his hand hovering over the elevator button. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort. "Y/N, I'm sorry," he began, his voice low and strained. "But... I really need to go. This... it's too much right now." His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now held a storm of conflicting emotions. "Please understand." You watched helplessly as Jongho stepped into the elevator, his gaze never leaving yours until the doors slowly closed between you. The soft ding of the elevator's descent echoed in the now-silent hallway, leaving you alone with Hyunwoo and the heavy aftermath of the confrontation. Turning to face him, you felt a surge of conflicting emotions. His earlier words still stung, sharp, and painful in your memory. But the sight of him now, deflated and ashamed, stirred a complex mix of pity, frustration, and lingering hurt in your chest. His usual confident demeanor had crumbled, replaced by a man who looked lost and regretful. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your scattered thoughts and decide how to address the mess that had unfolded before you.

"Y/N, I—" Hyunwoo began, too soon for your liking, his voice faltering. His eyes darted around, unable to meet your gaze. He opened his mouth again as if to continue, but no words came out. The silence stretched between you, filled with all the things left unsaid.

"I need you to leave," you said firmly, your voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil inside you. You turned your back to him, unable to bear the sight of his remorse any longer. Without waiting for a response, you walked back into your apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last. The door closed behind you with a soft click, finally separating you from the chaos in the hallway.

As you leaned against the closed door, you let out a shaky breath that seemed to come from the very depths of your being. The events of the past few minutes replayed in your mind like a relentless film reel, each scene more draining than the last. You felt anger at Hyunwoo's words, worry for Jongho, concern for how this would affect Nari, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion that seemed to seep into your very bones. You knew you'd have to deal with the aftermath of this confrontation eventually - there were conversations to be had, explanations to be given, and decisions to be made. But for now, all you wanted was a moment of peace to collect your scattered thoughts and tumultuous emotions.

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｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ˚୨୧⋆｡

Cooper Abbott x Fem!Reader

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: You weren’t too keen on your new stepfather to start, but as he and your mother grew further apart, you found yourself pulled to him more and more, and when things reach a head, you become closer than ever before.

Word Count: 6k

A/N: if you have a good relationship with your mother congrats but i don’t so this one’s for me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: stepdad!cooper, age gap (reader is in their mid 20’s + cooper is mid 40’s), nondescript references to parental verbal & emotional abuse, virgin!reader, fem + afab reader, reader referred to as girl, perv!cooper, slight voyeurism, f masturbation, mention of m masturbation, dacryphilia, daddy kink, breeding kink, choking, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it always), penetrative sex, pet names (sweet girl, pretty girl, sweetheart, babydoll, baby), creampie, cheating, praise, hickeys, size kink if you squint, spit kink, degradation (whore), aftercare, mentions of murder

Rating: R, 18+

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When your mother introduced you to her fiancé Cooper Abbott two years ago, you couldn’t stand him. He was shady, dipping out of the house at all hours of the night, and full of himself. He was confident, often to a borderline cocky level, and you wanted nothing to do with your new step father even after him and your mom tied the knot. His kids were sweet enough, but they were only over on the weekends and with their mother the rest of the week, not leaving much time to bond with your new step-siblings.

You avoided him as often as you could, picking up extra shifts to get yourself out of the house more often, dodging whatever awkward attempt at bonding he had in mind for you that particular day. It’s not that you thought he would make a bad father, he was great to his existing kids, but you didn’t feel like you needed a grown man to father you, having already been an adult yourself for a short while.

Cooper took to you right away, the urge that rose in his chest the first time he saw you frightening him. It wasn’t anything like the urge he felt when he was scoping out one of his kills, no, it was the polar opposite. He had this carnal desire to protect you, to keep you safe from all outside forces threatening your happiness. He knew you didn’t feel whole, could sense that there was something missing deep inside of you, that same something he was missing, a hole in his chest left there by the tumultuous relationship he shared with his mother. He wondered if he had been wrong about the woman he chose to marry, and as time would tell, he was correct.

As the months went on you slowly found yourself warming up to him more and more, almost startling yourself out of your chair one night when you realized you’d been absentmindedly smiling as he went on about the latest fire call his station had been on during family dinner.

That night, two weeks ago, when his foot brushed yours under the dining room table and instead of pulling away, you played footsie with him for the remainder of the meal, lingered in your mind, the faint knowing smile on his face between bites making you wonder if there was something more to it. You began to test the waters, leaving a pair of your panties in the washing machine so they’d end up in his next load of laundry to see if he’d return them or not, leaving your bedroom door cracked when you changed, “accidentally” leaving your vibrator on your bed when you knew he’d be coming down the hall to see it in passing.

He fell for every single one of your traps, lingering in the hallway to peer through the crack in your door, blood rushing to his dick at the sight of your bare breasts when you lifted your shirt over your head, the panties you’d left in the washer mysteriously never popping back up in your underwear drawer, your vibrator magically shifting positions every time you left it out.

It was mostly innocent at first, just a silly, taboo flirtation that gave the two of your lonely souls an entertaining game to play, but with your mom out of town for work, Cooper was ready to see if your little antics were really just a game.

He loved your mother, at least, he thought he did. After their wedding he began to see the sides of her that had tormented you most of your adolescence. Her controlling and narcissistic nature that she hid so well around strangers began to rear its ugly head the longer he was around, and he was just about at his limit. He’d never let your mother onto even an inkling of his dissatisfaction, an expert at keeping secrets and manipulating her into believing he was the happiest man alive, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He became acutely aware of the way she treated you, and it stirred a rage inside of him that could only be quelled by his latest kill. He saw parts of himself in you, the part of himself that was once a scared young boy, facing all of the trauma his own mother inflicted upon him. He wanted nothing more than to protect you from her, to put his skills to use and butcher her the way he did the rest of his victims, but there were too many risk factors to consider. She was too close to him, too connected legally and socially, it would be traced back to him immediately, and he couldn’t risk going to prison and leaving you all alone in that trauma-ridden house.

-

“I’m going to the grocery store, I’ll be back in an hour.” Cooper called up from the bottom of the stairs, pausing for your acknowledgment. You shouted a short “Okay!” from your bedroom and waited until you heard the slam of the front door behind him.

You wanted nothing more than to feel his hands all over you, but you knew that couldn’t happen. Cooper was respectable, a family man by all accounts, you were sure he’d never betray your mother like that. But you wished he would every time he flexed his muscular arms while carrying groceries in from the car, every time the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and every time his hand brushed against your lower back when he walked past you.

You were hungry, needy in a way you were almost ashamed of, and you knew Cooper wasn’t satisfied either. You’d heard him panting and groaning by himself through your bedroom wall when he thought he was alone in the house one too many times for him to be getting any from your mother. Their bedroom being right next to yours left very little to the imagination and you hadn’t heard the bed creak in over a year.

Honestly, after all the shit she’d put you through, you weren’t sure if you could say you’d never betray her either. Your apathy toward her had grown stronger with every nasty word she’d sent your way and as you got older, you stopped letting yourself feel bad for holding it against her. No mother should speak to their child the way she spoke to you, and despite your compulsion to keep the peace as long as you lived under her roof, you didn’t care to protect her anymore.

Despite all of your desires, you resigned to lulling your urges every quiet moment you had alone with yourself, your trusty vibe in hand as you imagined Cooper on top of you, touching you in all of the right ways. Today was no different, your cunt already dripping from the image of Cooper walking down the hallway, toned torso dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist after his morning shower. When he said he’d be leaving, your stomach flipped at the opportunity to take care of your little problem, opening the drawer of your nightstand the moment you heard the door shut.

You quickly rid yourself of your clothing, shirt and shorts in a messy pile on your bedroom floor as you pushed your underwear down your legs, the fabric catching on your bedpost as you attempted to fling them to the floor. You propped yourself against your pillows, reaching underneath them to pull out the shirt you’d stolen out of Cooper’s dirty laundry and held it to your face, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne and natural musk as the soft fabric brushed against your nose.

You didn’t have time to savor the act this time, with only an hour to work with, each of your actions needed to have direct intention behind them. You pulled the shirt over your frame, the loose fabric grazing over your sensitive nipples, another surge of arousal pooling between your thighs. You pulled the toy out of your drawer, the sleek aluminum weighty in your hand as you guided it to your center, using the rounded edge of the silicon head to spread your arousal up to your clit before turning the suction onto its lowest setting.

The soft hum of the small toy filled the room, echoed by your uninhibited whimpers as you held the suction against your clit, each targeted pulse of air drawing a breathy moan from your heaving chest. You dropped your head to rest on your shoulder, taking in his scent from the shirt again as you tried your best to remember the way his hand felt on your lower back, to imagine how that feeling could translate to other parts of your body, firm pressure against your hips, your ribs, your breasts, your throat.

Your thighs began to tremble as your release drew impossibly close, your finger pressing the button on the toy to up the intensity and send you into a toe-curling orgasm. You cried out his name again and again, tears pricking in the corner of your eye as your hips bucked, dropping the toy from your sensitive cunt as the feeling of overstimulation started the set in.

“Fuck.”

The exasperated sigh and sound of rustled plastic hitting the floor quickly ripped you from your post-orgasm haze, eyes shooting open as you scrambled to pull your comforter over your body.

Cooper was pissed, but not for the reasons you thought. He was mad at himself for not being the one to make you come, for not reading into your signs enough to be the man you needed him to be and make the first move. He needed to be in control, and watching you do it all yourself, with only the thought of him there to help, made him sick to his stomach.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought you’d be out longer.” You tried your best to justify your actions but you knew it was useless, this looked bad, was bad, no matter what way you tried to spin it.

“I went to the corner store instead.” He cleared his throat and picked up the small plastic bag and bundle of fresh flowers off the floor, turning to walk out of the room. His footsteps down the hall reverberated so loud you wondered how you could’ve been so lost to not hear him walking toward your room earlier. You laid your head in your hands to sulk for a moment before pulling yourself together, figuring it better to be an adult about the situation than pouting like a child.

You walked to the bathroom down the hall, messy toy in hand and a look of shame on your face. There was no point in shutting the door, Cooper had already seen your vibrator doing exactly what it was made for, a glimpse of you washing it in the sink wouldn’t kill him. The water ran hot and you got to work, thoroughly rinsing the soap suds off when you felt hands on your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt, or rather, Cooper’s shirt.

You looked into the mirror, his brown eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “I’ve been looking for this.” He started to lift the fabric, exposing your stomach before quickly dropping it and taking a step back. Your face dropped in disappointment, wishing he’d have taken what was his.

Cooper wasn’t exactly a particularly moral person, but nevertheless he didn’t feel great about your age gap or the power imbalance involved with being your stepfather. He couldn’t let himself do anything without your express permission, not when there was so much risk involved.

“You can touch me, if you want to.” You spoke softly, avoiding eye contact while turning the tap off and reaching for a clean towel to set your vibrator on to dry. Cooper didn’t hesitate, his hands returning to their place on your hips before slipping under his shirt, rubbing over the curve of your waist and taking in how soft your delicate skin felt against his palms. Your eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the feeling of his large hands on you like you’d fantasized about countless times before.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” He gave a soft squeeze to your sides, waiting for your eyes to meet his in the mirror, a warm smile greeting you when you finally did.

“What are you thinking about?” He questioned, continuing to run his fingers up and down your waist. Your breath hitched just slightly, trying to put your months of built up fantasies into words and failing miserably.

“You, I want you.” You breathed out, too shy to say the things you really wanted to. He saw the way you shifted on your heels, trying to close the gap between his chest and your back. He looked so beautifully intimidating like this, tall stature looming over yours like an animal stalking its prey, the lion and the lamb. He took the hem of the shirt in his grip and slowly raised it over your head, never breaking eye contact.

The sight of your bare breasts made him groan almost animalistically, ready to devour you. It’d been so long since he’d been with a woman so supple, your body an apple ripe for the picking.

“Where, sweetheart?” His lips met your temple, placing a chaste kiss before making his way down your neck, lips ghosting over your sensitive skin, eyes still locked with yours all the while. He sucked and nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of blooming bruises in his wake. You watched him, entranced by how expertly he mapped your pulsepoint, your hand moving to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly and whimpering when his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear. You were so lost in him you weren't sure what way was up or down, let alone what he had just asked you.

“You make the sweetest sounds babydoll, can you use that pretty voice to tell me where you want me to fuck you? I’d gladly bend you over this countertop, or carry you to my bed, I just want your first time to be comfortable.” The tail end of his statement had your eyes widening like a deer in headlights, feeling like your deepest secret had just been exposed to the world.

“H-how did you know?” Your voice was shaky, unsure of yourself as you wondered if your virgin status was really that painfully obvious to others.

“I heard you the other night, on the phone with your friend.” He was so nonchalant, as if it was the most normal conversation in the world to be having with your stepfather. Your body relaxed slightly, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding.

“My bed please, I don’t want to think about my mother while we do this.” You held your fingers in your opposite hand, nervously fidgeting with your digits as you dropped your head, staring at the sink. You knew you didn’t have an obligation to feel bad for her, but guilt panned in your chest nonetheless. Cooper’s hand found your chin, lifting your gaze back to his. You were too good for her, too good for him if he was being honest with himself, but you made him want to be a better person for your sake, and he wanted nothing more than to help you lose that unnecessary guilt he knew you were carrying.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget all about her, want her to be the furthest thing from either of our minds.” His voice soothed you the way your favorite songs do, and a heat rose over your cheeks thinking about all the ways he could do that.

You almost had the wind knocked out of you when he took you by the waist and perfectly executed an over the shoulder carry, playfully slapping your ass before making his way down the hall to your bedroom. You let a moan slip, and you would’ve been embarrassed if it hadn’t been for the way his shoulder tensed underneath your stomach in response.

“You like when I manhandle you?” Cooper teased, carefully tossing you down onto your plush bedding. You nodded, rubbing your thighs together as his gaze drifted over your body, sizing up his prey. You relaxed against your pillows, the stuffed animals either side of your head framing your innocence like a halo. Cooper began to undress, watching the way your features became more reactive with every article of clothing he removed, until he was in nothing but his boxers. You gulped, seeing the outline of his member through the thin fabric and growing nervous, trying to imagine how he would fit inside you.

When he finally slid his underwear off, your lips parted in a soft gasp, mesmerized by the blush pink hue of his leaking tip, your eyes following the length of the prominent vein on the right side of his shaft. He was thick, intimidatingly so, and your mouth started to water thinking of how small your hand would look wrapped around it. Before you knew it you were on your hands and knees, crawling to the end of the bed and looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Can I try?” You asked, voice too innocent for Cooper to take.

“Only if you really want to, honey.” He smiled down at you, caressing your cheek. You nodded eagerly, returning the smile as you repositioned yourself, bent forward to lean on your elbows and knees, his cock right at your eye line. You brought your hand to his length, just holding the weight of it in your hand for a moment, looking it over to properly memorize it. Cooper found it easy to be patient with you despite the way his body was begging for you to do more, finding your curious nature incredibly endearing. Opening your mouth hesitantly, you began by kitten licking the tip, the salty taste of his precum lingering on your tongue. You didn’t know what you expected, but whatever it was, this was better. You swirled your tongue around his head, exploring the contours of the taut skin before taking him into your mouth, feeling the way he twitched ever so slightly in response to the warm heat. Cooper groaned, his hand making its way to the back of your head, not pushing but guiding your shallowly bobbing head.

You worked your way further down his length, slowly feeling your throat adjust to the intrusion with every gag it gave, your mouth dripping with saliva. Cooper nearly lost it when you experimentally hollowed your cheeks, the added pressure of your suction drawing your name from his lips. He began to shallowly thrust, making you gag even harder as you took in two thirds of his shaft, tears welling in your eyes. You did your best to adjust, but it was no use, your throat unable to adjust to the depth he held you at. Your tears broke your waterline, leaving grey mascara streaks in their wake and you knew you must look a mess. Your shallow breaths were growing harder to take, but you wanted to keep going, you needed to make him come.

Your throat spasming around him felt incredible, and it took everything in Cooper to stop himself from forcing you to take him the rest of the way until your nose hit his stomach. He knew he’d get you there eventually, but that wasn’t the goal today. The image of your beautiful face, all smeared with messy makeup and covered in spit was something he never wanted to forget, taking a mental image as an effigy of your transformation into his perfect little slut. He needed to taste you, to know how sweet an angel like you must be. He gripped your hair, gently easing his cock from your throat, a thick string of saliva stretching across the empty divide between his tip and your lips. You panted, sitting back on your heels and catching your breath as you looked up at him, a small seed of worry planting itself in your mind. Cooper could see it, that light in your eyes dimming ever so slightly.

“What’s the matter baby?” He was genuinely concerned, worried that he’d gone too hard on you.

“It’s nothing, I’m just, I-I don’t know how it’s gonna fit.” You stumbled over your words, embarrassed by your confession. Of course you knew scientifically how it would, vaginas can stretch enough to push a baby out, of course it could stretch to fit a penis. But after seeing one in person, having him in your mouth and not being able to take it all in, and thinking back to how you could barely fit two of your own fingers inside yourself, the rational part of your brain had long since resigned itself from this topic.

“I promise it will, I know just how to get you ready so it only hurts a little, okay?” He leaned down, inches from your face, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before pulling you into a kiss, his tongue pinning yours down in a subtle show of dominance before pulling away, just admiring you for a moment.

“You are so beautiful.” He sighed, cupping your face in his hands, calloused thumbs wiping away your tear stains. Your cheeks grew hot again, never knowing how to take a compliment but appreciating his praise beyond words, especially with how messy you’d gotten.

“Lay back for me, sweet girl.” He kissed you on the top of your head, gently nudging your shoulder and you followed his instruction, returning to your previous position against your pillows. He took your ankles in hip grip, spreading your legs to situate himself on his stomach between them, his face inches from your now impossibly wet cunt. He looked up at you, locking eyes before flattening his tongue against your hole and licking a flat strike through your folds up to your swollen clit, eliciting a gentle whimper from your trembling lips.

“Never had a girl as sweet as you before.” Cooper praised, and he wasn’t exaggerating. He couldn’t get enough of the savory sweet mix of your arousal, so intoxicating he thought he might get drunk off of it. The compliment made you want to hide, your thighs attempting to close out of instinct. His strong hands ruined their plight, forcing them to stay spread and using his thick forearms to anchor you to the bed. He dove back in, practically muzzling himself with your cunt, lapping hungrily at your weeping entrance. Your hands clutched desperately at your floral sheets, looking for anything to cling to, too scared to hurt him with your iron grip.

His motions moved upward, plush lips framing your clit before swiping quickly over the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, chest rising off of the bed momentarily as your body fought to process all of the new sensations it was experiencing. Cooper hummed against you, his eyes gazing over your mound to watch the way you reacted to the vibrations the action sent through you. You were a moaning mess, all whiney pleases and breathy cries, wriggling against him. When he pulled away moments later, you groaned in frustration.

“Patience, babydoll, I’m going to start stretching this little pussy out to get her prepared for me.” He slapped your inner thigh, returning back to your clit as his fingers traced the tight muscles around your entrance. When you were properly worked up again, lost in the feeling of his tongue on your clit, he inserted his middle finger, your wetness allowing it to glide in with ease. He curled it inside of you, rubbing along the contours of your warm, velvety walls. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking into his palm to encourage him to add another. He did so, his pointer joining with slight resistance, the size of his fingers providing more stimulation than your own ever could. He pumped them in and out in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue, feeling your tightness ease up around him the longer he repeated his movements. You could feel a pressure building in the pit of your stomach, one slightly different than what you were used to.

“More, please.” You moaned, bucking your hips once more, causing Cooper to smile against you. He did as you asked, his index finger joining the other two inch by inch, your muscles stretching slowly until he was up to his knuckles inside of you. He held the digits still for a moment, waiting to be sure you were ready before pulling out and thrusting them back in, curling them to hit the spongy patch that his fingers could only just reach. You felt like you were hurtling toward the edge of a cliff, moments away from losing all control when he began sucking on your clit, the added pressure causing your vision to go blurry.

“Daddy!” You cried out, back arching and thighs clamping around his head and fingers clutched so tightly you thought your sheets might rip in your grasp. Cooper slowed his actions, working you through every wave of your orgasm until you relaxed into the mattress, releasing him from between your thighs. When your mind finally cleared you realized what you had done, frantically sitting up to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I just got so overwhelmed, I-I wasn’t thinking.” You rambled on, overexplaining in hopes that he wouldn’t be disgusted with you.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s more than okay. You want me to be your daddy? Gonna let Daddy take care of you?” His full lips and stubble both glistened with your slick, and you almost wished you could take a photo to capture the look in his eyes. He pushed himself up by his forearms, crawling up to hover over you and tilting his head as if waiting for a response, until you realized what he wanted.

“Yes, Daddy.” You looked up at him, big doe eyes still glazed over from your afterglow, and something shifted in Cooper. The urge was back, something primal in him that needed to be as close as possible, to not only be inside you, but to own you. He hung his head, fighting back against it.

“I’ll be right back, I need to get a condom.” He sighed, prioritizing your comfort over his desires, or so he thought.

“Cooper, wait, do we have to use one?” You grabbed his arm to stop him from getting out of bed, and his eyes lit up at your words.

“You don’t want to?” He questioned, a bit caught off guard.

“I want to feel all of you, I don’t care if I might get pregnant.” Your eyes darkened and he swore he saw something more behind your eyes, like you weren't letting him in on a dark secret, but he thought better than to push it.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He let out a slight laugh, shaking his head before grabbing one of your pillows and asking you to lift your hips, placing it under your ass. The added cushion had you more relaxed, your nerves about his size starting to dissipate. He hooked his hands behind your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest to give him a full view of your pussy, ready and waiting for him. He lined up his hips with yours, his cock laying against the apex of your thigh.

“Are you ready, sweet girl?” His voice was soft, strained slightly with pent up desire but holding nothing but love otherwise. You nodded, an eager “Yes.” pulled from your now-sore throat. He looked into your eyes, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it through your folds to properly coat it in your slick, taking a few seconds to slap the head against your clit just to hear a couple more of those pretty little whimpers he loved so much before having to see you in pain. He lined up his tip with your entrance, pressing into you at an almost agonizingly slow pace, pausing when he saw you grimace in pain.

“I know sweetheart, but it’s just one big stretch then it’ll feel good, I know you can do it.” He soothed, his hand finding yours to intertwine your fingers. You nodded, your free hand moving to rest on the back of his neck and pull him down into a kiss. He continued to push forward inch by inch, swallowing your winces and whines until he was finally seated fully inside of you, stalling his hips to allow your tight walls to adjust around him. He pulled away from the kiss when your sighs of pain subsided, squeezing your hand.

“Move, please.” You gave him the go ahead, and he wasted no time, pulling out carefully before thrusting slowly back in, your mouth dropping in a gasp at the new sensation, a burn so good you didn’t know whether to moan or cry. The more he repeated the action, the louder you became, all semblance of pain turning into a pleasure you’d never felt before, feeling like he was made to fill the emptiness inside of you.

“God, you’re so tight babydoll, taking me so well.” His praise had you on cloud 9, but his gentle pace was only doing so much and it was starting to feel like you had an itch you couldn’t scratch.

“Harder.” You moaned, voice tinged with frustration by the teetering level of stimulation.

“Only if you ask nicely.” He retorted, slightly taken aback by your demanding tone.

“Please fuck me harder Daddy, I need it.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, still glistening with tears from earlier and he melted, content to answer your prayers. He dropped your hand, bringing his grip to your neck to apply firm pressure to the sides of your neck, careful not to press against your windpipe as he slammed his hips against yours, the slapping of skin and both of your moans filling the room.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” That cocky confidence that you had once hated was starting to come out, but this time, it made you clamp down around him. You nodded as best you could, starting to lose your focus as your mind went blank, your orgasm building quickly. Cooper saw the way your eyes glazed over and groaned, knowing he finally had you just the way he wanted you.

“Open.” His hand gripped your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth into an ‘O’ shape, your tongue instinctually lulling out of your mouth. Before you could blink his spit had landed on your tongue, slipping to the back of your mouth until you swallowed it with a needy moan. You kept your mouth open and Cooper repeated the action, watching as a drop of it dribbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“Only your first time and you're already such a whore.” He laughed, his hand returning to your throat. His other made its way into the tight space between your bodies, rubbing firm circles over your sensitive bundle and nerves, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts.

“Only for you.” You were so close, and you knew he was too, the way his moans were becoming more desperate, his brows furrowed underneath the strands of hair that had fallen in his face, and the feeling of his cock twitching with every thrust.

“You’re mine, gonna keep you forever, sweet girl.” His words made your head spin, and as he hit the soft spot inside of you one final time, you were gone, hearing gone fuzzy and stars erupting behind your eyes, all coherent thoughts gone from your mind, too overwhelmed with euphoria. Cooper didn’t slow down in the slightest, racing toward his own orgasm at an unstoppable pace. Your sensitivity was at an all time high, walls fluttering around him at an unwavering pace, the pressure against your clit making you want to cry as it almost crossed into pain territory, until it morphed into another growing orgasm.

“Come on babydoll, give me one more.” He encouraged, his torso pushing down against yours in almost a full mating press, more skin on skin contact than you’d had in your entire life.

“God, Cooper, please, need you to put a baby in me.” You didn’t care what he thought anymore, too close to your third orgasm of the night to give a single thought into what his potential judgments would be.

“Whatever you want, filthy girl.” He gave one final slamming thrust inside of you, his thumb swiping quickly over your clit to drag you over the edge with him, thick ropes of cum coating your contracting walls. You were both beyond spent, his dead weight on top of you oddly comforting until your legs started to cramp. He eased out of you, the empty feeling pulling an involuntary wince. He laid next to you, his arm snaking beneath your waist to pull you flush against him. He kissed the top of your head, letting you rest for a moment before helping you sit up.

“You should pee, I don’t want you getting a uti.” He helped you up onto shaky legs, holding your waist as you walked down the hallway together, each step you took feeling like a fawn learning to use its limbs for the first time.

You did as you were told, sitting in silence as he wet a washcloth in the sink next to you.

“What did you go to the store for, anyway?” You asked, genuinely curious but also trying to fill the silence.

“The flowers, I wanted to surprise you, after the comment you made the other day at the farmer’s market.” You recalled a compliment you’d paid one of the flower vendors that day, after your mother had made an offhand one to them about how wilted their stock was. You’d done that a lot throughout your life, it was just second nature at this point, trying your best to leave a trail of positivity behind your mother’s constant criticism.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to.” You looked down at your hands to hide your embarrassment.

“Look at me.” His voice was firm but caring, and when you looked up, you realized he was right beside you. He held your chin with one hand and used the other to wipe the damp washcloth over your cheeks, washing the faded mascara off of your skin.

“I wanted to. I think everything we just did is pretty decent proof that I care about you, sweetheart. Don’t ever doubt my motivations.” He wiped the last of your makeup off, cleaned himself up and let you finish before washing your hands and spending the rest of the evening together in your bed, snuggled up and discussing all the things you could do with the remaining days until your mother returned home and you had to actually deal with the complicated nature of what all of this meant for the two of you.

—

tagging some angel moots: @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @hereforthehitsbaby

please comment or message me if you’d like to be added to my cooper abbott taglist <3

[yandere-kittee]

Yandere! Experiment x Scientist!Reader.

♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Note: I haven't posted in a long time, so have this as compensation. (I haven't finished writing my smut yet(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) )

❦Contains: Yandere behavior, platonic yandere, murder, manipulation, Gn! Reader, You are just called 'Mom'.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

You were horrified by the scene in front of you, even more when the reason for this scene was reaching out to you with such an Innocent smile.

"What's wrong Mom? Shouldn't you be happy that they won't seperate us anymore? " It asked you, staring up at you with blood splattered all over their face, their bloodied hands holding onto your white coat.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you raised a shaky hand, patting it's head, "Th-That's right, you did such a good job sweetie. " you said with a shaky voice, it was hard not to when you've just been scared out of your wits mind.

It's smile widens and buries it's head against your stomach, most definitely smearing blood onto your clothes, your glad for it because you didn't want them to see tears spill and run down your cheeks.

While they hug you, you had to watch with horrified eyes as you saw all of your colleagues dead mutilated bodies on the floor, blood and guts splattered everywhere, their deaths we're cruel and inhumane as the cause for their deaths hugs you.

This monster.

You honestly should've seen it coming, being nice to one of the experiments that the facility your working for kept, maybe because they resembled that of a child, so you wanted to be more nice to it.

So you treated it like any child you've encountered, you we're gentle and patient unlike the others, you treated it as if it was human, you played with it.

And sometimes you'll sneak it snacks that children around your place often liked.

At first, it was wary of you, because naturally, they haven't had the best treatment from scientists in this facility, they weren't very nice with the experiments, it only seemed natural to treat them as such because they were monsters, made to be weapons of mass destruction.

But within months of treating them like you would a child, they had warmed up to you, seeing you as a Parental Figure, to which the others seemed to notice because they we're more cooperative when you're with them.

And soon enough, they we're now under your care, you became a research scientist with a part time job as a babysitter.

They soon became clingy and didn't want you to leave them, "Don't leave me! " They exclaim while clinging onto your arm in desperation, "I won't be for long, I will just be taking a break and I'll come back. " You said.

"Why not just take it here? You said you wouldn't leave me. " They said, rubbing their face against your arm, Right, you did say that.

"Well, I can't exactly be able to. My lunch box is inside the cafeteria. " You said.

You often give them things you find outside the facility, to give them something that may remind them of the world outside, pretty rocks, flowers, and etc.

Their room became a safe space for the two of you.

Until it wasn't.

"Mom! " They beam, standing up from their position on the floor once you arrive with fresh warm food in your hands, they walk up to you and sniff the food, "What's this one called? " they ask curiously.

"It's carbonara. I found a recipe for it and thought you would like it. " You settle the dish on the table and go to grab plates and utensils, "I always like the things you make me. " They smiles, sitting down on the chair.

"That's great to hear. " You say, opening the drawer of utensils, your eyes landing on the sharp knife hidden away.

...

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I hope you guys enjoyed this! I quite enjoyed writing this one, anyways, sorry for the late post!

[Requests are open]

👏( 'ω' )👏( 'ω' )

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

[thaleleah]

𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓷𝓮)

Pairing: Billy The Kid x Fem!Nun!Reader

Warnings: ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Dark!Billy, Virgin!Reader, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, P in V, Corruption Kink, Creampie, Possessive Behavior, Masturbation, Wet Dreams/Sex Dreams, Seduction, Emotional Manipulation, Religion and Religious Beliefs, Explicit talk of gunshot wounds, blood, and the bullet's removal (kinda? Idk if it's explicit explicit, but its a little more than just mentioned), Mention of physical abuse/child abuse (not from Billy), Childhood Trauma, Mention of alcoholism, Moral/Religious conflict within one's self, My bad Spanish, Nun breaking her vows, Probably too quick of a healing process to be fucking someone but I'm not a doctor so 🤷🏻‍♀️, Using the word "drawers" instead of "panties" which is kinda cringe to me but I wanted to be somewhat accurate

Word Count: 9.6K

A/N: Billy's passed out for most of this but I hope y'all like it anyway. Please know I'm posting this and then running away. Okay, byeeeeeeeeee

Summary: When Billy stumbles into your clinic, hurt and in desperate need of care and refuge, you don't hesitate to help him. Perhaps this is God's will. Perhaps He has brought him into your life to help heal the parts of him that the cruelness of the world has soiled and broken. You are a healer by trade, both of the physical body and of faith. If this is to be God's mission for you, then it shall be done. How could you have possibly known that the young man who begged for help that fateful night would turn out to be the devil himself?

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Translations:

Por Dios - Oh my God

Que Dios te bendiga - May God bless you

Qué sorpresa! - What a surprise!

Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín - And he didn't want his mom to know. So he buried the meat in the garden

Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses - But the dog dug it up and she found out anyway. He had to wash the dishes by himself for two months

Ese niño - That kid/child

Parece que era un buen amigo - Seems like he was a good friend

Sí, él era - Yes, he was

De nada - You're welcome

Gracias, Hermana - Thanks, Sister

They say the devil can take on many forms.

He is a demon figure - with the face of a goat, horns, hooves, and a blade pointed tail.

He is a great dragon - large and terrifying, destructive and formidable in the power he holds.

He is a roaring lion - hungry and fierce as he stalks God’s children, waiting for them to fall into his trap before he attacks them like prey.

But the devil was once God’s favorite angel, amazingly beautiful and wise. The angel of light, God’s morning star - a traitor now, a trickster . . . evil.

The Lord teaches love for all, compassion and understanding despite another’s upbringing or current situation. All humans are God’s children, all made in His perfect image, brothers and sisters in unity under His loving and eternal care. You are thankful to know this, grateful that you can feel His presence coursing through your veins despite the horror that you’ve come to face daily while working at the clinic. His gift to you is your endless drive to help those in need, sitting by the bedsides of the sick and dying, applying a cool rag to their sweaty foreheads, or spoon feeding them soup to give them strength when they are too weak to do it themselves. 

It is a taxing life, and the sorrow you feel when you cannot nurse someone back to health is ever present in your heart, but the Lord is clear in your life’s mission and you will be forever thankful for the lessons you learn in this lifetime. 

He has made you a healer, using you as a vessel for His healing touch for all you come across - regardless of wealth, status, religious affiliation, or criminal record. 

Which is why when he stumbles into the clinic during the late hours of the night, face pale and hand pressing hard to his side where blood is streaming through his fingers despite the pressure, you don’t hesitate to help him. 

You think you should have - should have let him bleed to death on the clinic floor. Would God have abandoned you if you had?

“Sister Maria!” You cry instead, running to the injured man and looping his arm around your shoulders to help him lean against you. “We need fresh towels and water! And sutures! Hurry!”

Sister Maria runs in the room, bedsheets still cradled in her arms from where she had been turning over a recently discharged patient’s room. She gasps at the scene, dropping the linens on the floor as she rushes to the main utility closet. You guide the man to a bed, helping him drop onto the thin mattress with a tortured groan. One of your hands splays over his, helping to maintain pressure on the wound until Sister Maria can bring in the needed supplies. Your other hand lays gently on his sweaty forehead, thumb caressing the straight line of his nose trying to soothe him. 

His baby blue eyes stare up at you through their pained haze. 

“P-please, help,”

The devil can take on many forms and carry many names.

And yet, despite all you’ve heard about who he is and what he’s done, you never once considered Billy the Kid to be one of them. 

Misguided and uncared for - sure, but never evil. 

He’s so young. You can’t even imagine what horrors he must have had to go through to lead him to the path that he’s on now.

Perhaps it’s fate that you’ve been brought together, an opportunity for you to spread the healing power of your Lord’s love and mend not only his body but his bruised heart as well. You’ve seen too many times where hardships have hardened the minds and spirits of others, caging them off from God as they struggle with their wavering faith. 

“Don’t you worry,” You say. “The Lord is here with us. He will see you through.”

Whether he groans from your words or the pain, you’re not sure.

Sister Maria is quick to grab the supplies, dumping them on the side table. She dunks a clean cloth in the water, wringing out the excess, but pauses when she sees his face. 

“Is that— ” 

“Nevermind that!” You hiss, pulling the cloth from her hand. 

You lift his shirt, exposing the injury and the dirt dusted skin framing it. It looks horrible, blood seeping from the laceration in a steady flow and a part of you is thankful that the sight of blood doesn’t make you immediately drop to the floor like your cousin, Paul. He gasps when you touch the cloth to the wound, blood immediately seeping into the white of the cloth and marring the pure color. 

His fingers dig into the fabric of his trousers, gripping it tight as he clenches his teeth against the pain. Your free hand rubs lightly against his forehead, trying to soothe him as best you can while you clean the wound. 

You think it must be God’s mercy that he passes out before you can pull the bullet out. The pain of the forceps digging into his body as you pulled out the thick ball of lead and the shock that would have come with it would have surely dragged him under had blood loss not gotten to him first. It’s better this way - he’s safer cradled in sleep’s loving hold rather than crying and jerking about as you try to save his life. 

Sister Maria holds a small bowl out in front of you with one hand while the other delicately holds his wrist, feeling his pulse between her dainty fingers.

The bullet comes out easy, your forceps finding the lead and guiding it out of the wound’s entrance with ease. It clanks as you drop it into the tiny bowl, and you send up prayers of thanks for allowing such a quick and simple removal. The grace of your Lord has certainly just saved this man’s life.

With quick fingers, you stitch him up, practiced movements securing the wound shut before covering it with a generous dressing of cloth to keep it clean from any dirt and debris. 

His sleep isn’t restful, the pinch in his brow and the way his cheeks twitch in the flickering candlelight of the small room make that clear. Your own brows pinch as you reach a hand out to trace the furrowed skin, smoothing it out with a gentle thumb. You don’t like seeing people suffer, but it’s more often than not that the people you come into contact with while working in the clinic are in pain, or suffering, or at Heaven’s doorstep. You help who you can and pray for the souls of the ones you can’t so they may be guided to God’s kingdom where they can live in an eternal paradise by His side. It always hurts when you can’t heal someone, the feeling of failure is a stark reminder that ultimately it is the Lord who chooses to give us life, and he can choose to take it away just as quickly. 

It feels different this time though, somehow more personal in a way you can’t understand. The young man before you still has his whole life ahead of him, still so much to do and so many lives to touch. The sins that he’s committed thus far can be forgiven, if only he lifts them up to Him and asks for forgiveness. You can feel it, deep in your bones, that you need to save this man. You can’t fail. 

He’s alive, for now. And you can only do your best to make sure he stays that way. 

“He cannot stay here,” Sister Maria says quietly, gathering the red stained water and rags. “They will find him.”

You nod, gathering the small bowl with the bullet remnant and the sutures kit. “We’ll keep him here tonight and move him to the back room in the morning after he’s rested a while,”

“No,” Sister Maria says. “He cannot stay here. Helping an outlaw is punishable by death. They will hang us,”

“God will not abandon us,” You say, firmly. “We are all His children, servants and outlaw alike. He wouldn’t want us to toss him out on the street to die.”

You look over your shoulder towards the sleeping man again. His brow is furrowed again, the sweat on his face glistening in the light. You sigh before turning back to Sister Maria. “Don’t worry, Sister. I’ll think of something,”

The pacifying words seem to offer Sister Maria no comfort, and her worried eyes snap upwards as she looks towards the ceiling, voice cracking as she breathes a pleading, “Por Dios,” up towards the roof. 

The room is silent to her plea.

You don’t leave Billy’s side the entire night, sitting in the chair directly next to the bed, dabbing at his heated face and neck with a damp washcloth and changing his bandage when the first one had soiled through. He wakes a few times during the night, icy blue eyes fluttering open and locking on yours for the briefest second before slipping closed once again, a quiet sigh escaping through his slightly parted lips. 

This is the hardest part - the waiting. Waiting to see if your hard work to heal someone was enough. You keep a close eye on him, looking for signs of pain or illness, keeping an eye on the injury site to try and prevent infection. You flushed it with alcohol during the dressing change, having found an extra bottle hiding in the supply closet while grabbing some fresh cloths. Supplies like alcohol for disinfecting, while needlessly abundant in saloons and brothels, are difficult to acquire for the clinic. You think it's foolish, wasting something that can be used for healing purposes on something as pointless as getting drunk. Your father had been a drunk, drinking away his cares and woes, his only goal was to make it to the bottom of a bottle. 

You wish you would have found it sooner so you could have actually disinfected the entire wound instead of just the outside and stitches, but this is better than nothing, you suppose. The smell as you pour it over his wound makes your stomach turn, reminding you of all the times your father came home reeking of the stuff, belly full of poison and his mind, hazed with drink, still evil enough to find your mother and make her suffer as if she were the reason he deemed himself a failure in life. Billy lets out a pained moan in his sleep, body subconsciously tensing in pain as the alcohol flushes the stitched up skin, but thankfully he doesn’t wake. You don’t want him to be in pain, but there’s a part of you that selfishly thinks he’s sharing your own pain, the memory of your childhood trauma somehow seeping into his brain as you recover his wound. 

You know it’s not true, but you’re thankful he’s there with you anyway. 

When morning arrives, you’re beyond exhausted. 

The night shift always takes more out of you than the day shift and your eyes have been threatening to close since the first rays of the sun started spreading across the dust covered floor of the clinic. 

Sister Ann and Sister Catherine arrive before the sun does, the first rays of it only starting to spill over the New Mexico horizon line when their footsteps echo through the entryway. You lean forward in your seat at the sound of them, glancing over at Billy’s still sleeping frame as Sister Ann’s gentle humming of a nursery song her mother used to sing to her spreads throughout the clinic. Quick footsteps cut through the song, the humming stopping entirely as frantic whispers sound from the entryway. And then three sets of running feet are getting closer to the corner room. 

“Oh, good heavens,” Sister Catherine breathes, eyes locked on the special patient taking up the small bed. 

Sister Ann has a dainty hand clasped against her mouth in shock and Sister Maria nervously wrings her own together from behind them. 

“He was hurt,” You say, immediately defensive of the injured man. “We couldn’t leave him to die. The Lord says–”

“You don’t need to preach to us, Sister y/n,” Sister Catherine interrupts. “It’s the right thing to do. The Lord is on our side.” She’s confident in her words, and it gives you comfort you didn’t know you needed to have your beliefs validated. But she pauses, eyes flickering once again to Billy before they meet yours - the fear in her brown orbs clear as day. “The law, on the other hand, will not be.” 

“We need to move him,” You say.

“To where?” Sister Ann whispers frantically. “The sheriff and his deputies are sure to show up here. They know he’s been shot, it’s only a matter of time.”

“It is a blessing they have not come already,” Sister Maria adds.

They’re right. With Billy injured, they have to know he couldn’t have gotten far. Their only saving grace is that the Sheriff more than likely would have never believed Billy would have come to the clinic for medical attention if on the run from the law. Perhaps holed up in some abandoned alley, bleeding out while propped up against a wall. Or maybe they think he tried riding out of town, desperate to get as far away from the people hunting him as possible before inevitably succumbing to his injuries and falling off his horse in a nearby field. 

You rise from the chair, leaning over the bed slightly to rest a gentle hand on Billy’s forehead. It’s still clammy against your palm and he shivers slightly in his sleep, subconsciously pressing his head a little harder against your hand looking for comfort in his pained state. He needs to get away from here, away from any prying eyes because if he’s found, his life on this Earth is over. He is in no position to run or fight for his life. The road to recovery for him is a long one if he hopes to heal well enough to regain his strength and usual mobility. The only thing he will have to look forward to if discovered before he can is a necklace of rope and a quick fall. 

“Help me get him to the back room,” You say, sternly. In moments of uncertainty and panic, someone needs to be the guiding light. Your fellow Sisters are still as stones in their spots, all in various states of distress as they look at the man who, if discovered under their care, could very well be the catalyst that marks the end of their missions here on Earth. The Lord brought Billy to you - you need to protect him. “He can stay in the alcove until we can figure out where to take him.”

“He cannot stay in the clinic!” Sister Maria exclaims. “They will surely check every room searching for him!”

“Trust me,” You soothe. “Please, Sister. We need to move him before they come or we will all surely pay the price.”

There is a short pause, but to your frantic brain it feels like an eternity before Sister Catherine nods and gently nudges Sister Ann to the opposite side of the bed. 

“Let’s hurry,” She says, reaching to pull away the thin blanket you threw over Billy’s shaking frame at some point during the night. “I fear we don’t have much time left.”

Together, the four of you lift Billy from the bed. It’s a struggle. Even for multiple women to carry a fully grown man, it's a task and a half just to get him from the small patient room to the back area of the clinic. He whines in his sleep, his wound jostling and stitches pulling from the regretfully poor stability you have on his body as you carry him. But, somehow, he doesn’t wake. 

The back room is small, but comparatively large compared to the patient’s rooms. The entire width is the size of two patient rooms combined, but that’s not giving it much grace. It makes you sick sometimes, to see people with money spending it on lavish items, large houses and grand parties just to show off their wealth when there are people in need all around whose lives would change if they only had a fraction of the wealth the ones in good standing do. As it is, the back room of the clinic is despairingly bare - limited backstock of supplies, linens, and food are scattered among the wooden shelves lining the room. If only those wealthy men who think to only fill their pockets would hear the Lord’s call to give to the needy instead. It would make your heart happy to see these shelves filled just once. 

There’s a small alcove in the back of the room that you and the other Sisters use when times prove most trying. On the days when things are difficult, emotions are too much for you to handle alone or a patient isn’t doing well and there’s nothing you can do other than wait and pray for their recovery, you visit the alcove. It's been adorned with simple yet revenant items, a small yet beautiful cross nailed to the center of the wall, a small ceramic dish holding a wooden beaded rosary placed on the floor below it, resting on a pleasantly fluffed up pillow - ready to help guide their prayer. 

Resting against the side wall of the alcove is a folded up cot. It’s not uncommon that one of the Sisters might have to sleep at the clinic during their off shift. More often than not, they are able to return to their lodgings to sleep and reenergize for their next shift. But there are times when too many people are injured, too many of the townspeople have fallen ill to whatever flu or illness that’s crossing through the town and all hands are needed here. The foldable cot is their home away from home, and while it might not be the most comfortable, you are thankful the Lord was able to provide it lest you be made to sleep on the floor behind the extra blankets neatly folded on the shelves. 

You all adjust your grips on the young man allowing for Sister Maria to release her hold and pull back the thick blanket shielding the entrance to the alcove. You grunt under the presence of the additional weight, the awkward grip you all have on him unhelpful in the way his limp body bears down on you all. Sister Maria is quick in tying back the privacy blanket so that it stays to one side, and works to wrangle open the finicky cot. Once it’s unrolled, you help in depositing Billy down onto the makeshift bed, quickly checking his wound to make sure no stitches accidentally ripped in the journey back here before turning to accept the fresh blanket Sister Ann hands you from the shelf. 

Billy’s brow is furrowed again, breathing a little harsher probably from the pain of being jostled. You lay out the blanket over top of him and pull it up to his chin, your hand reaching out to smooth the wrinkled skin between his eyes again. 

“What do we do now?” Sister Ann asks, and Sister Catherine pulls her hand away from where it was plucking nervously at the skin at the sides of her fingers.

“We wait,” She responds, cradling Sister Ann’s damaged hand delicately between her own. “We won’t be able to move him out of the clinic before the Sheriff arrives. We’ll have to keep him hidden here until then and pray they don’t find him.”

The thought of the Sheriff and his men finding Billy here makes your stomach churn. The undeniable fate that waits for you if he’s discovered is one that you’re willing to sacrifice. He’s come here for help, God has brought him here to you for your healing and protection and you can’t fail Him just because your humanity makes you fearful of your end. It’s supposed to be a beautiful thing - death. The moment when your soul on this Earth fulfills its mission here and your granted eternal life at the side of God in the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s what you’ve wanted your whole life, a life of peace and serenity that seems so out of reach here on the soil. Fear will not keep you from looking forward to it. But you’re not done here yet, you have many years left of helping others and spreading His love to those in need. This is not your end. But if it is, it’s worth the sacrifice to try to save Billy. 

You’ll hang with him, if need be. 

Your fellow Sisters though . . . the thought of them hanging for your own choice, regardless of if you think it was the right thing to do, makes you sick. Your decisions are your own, and they shouldn’t suffer for your choices. 

Billy’s forehead unwrinkles under your gentle fingers, and you can feel your heart break as you look down at him. He’s so young still, a young man just at the beginning of his life. He has so many fine years ahead of him. He’s handsome, fit and strong - he would make a fine husband for some lucky lady, a dutiful father for his children. He’s not as evil as they say. You’ve learned to trust your instincts when it comes to people. Sometimes the most misunderstood people are the kindest, and you can’t help but think Billy is the most misunderstood of all. You can’t sense a single whisper of badness in him. 

You stand up and pull the privacy blanket back in front of the alcove, hiding Billy from sight in the safety of God’s makeshift altar. Together, you and the other Sisters make your way out of the back room. A few rooms down a sickly man is coughing up a storm, and from how hard and continuous his coughs are, you know his throat is raw. Sister Ann shoots the rest of you a worried look, but turns to grab a water carafe off of a side table before rushing down the hall towards the coughing man and away from the current situation. 

“You can head back, Sister Maria,” You say, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest. It’s going to be a long day and we’re going to need you for the night shift.”

You can tell she’s torn, both wanting to stay and help in any way she can but seeming to know that there’s nothing she can do. All there is to do is wait. After a few moments, she nods, her own hand coming up to rest on top of yours. “Que Dios te bendiga,”

You watch as she makes her way towards the front, pushing open the wooden door before jerking to a halt. “Sheriff Garrett! Qué sorpresa!”

Her words sent a spark of panic through you. It’s so soon! You knew it was coming, but it’s still so incredibly soon. You had hoped for at least a while longer to try to gather your thoughts and think of a plan of where you can take Billy, but it feels like time moves slowly as the Sheriff and two of his deputies step into the clinic.

“Sister,” Garrett responds, respectfully tipping his hat. 

Even through your panic, you still feel a twinge of irritation. A gentleman would take off his hat, but you suppose it’s better than the two men standing behind him who do nothing but trail their eyes around the clinic's entrance suspiciously (and with a clear bout of judgment).

You know for a fact these men with gold lined pockets have never given so much as a dime to the clinic. 

Sister Maria turns back to look at you and Sister Catherine, desperation clear in her eyes and you're glad that none of the men are looking at her anymore or you think her obvious distress might have given you all away.

“Have a good rest, Sister,” You say, urging Sister Maria away. Thankfully, she listens, nodding to you and then Garrett before scurrying out the door. 

“How can we help you, Sheriff?” Sister Catherine asks. 

Garrett takes a few leisurely steps along the entryway, observing the interior of the clinic with the aura of a man who thinks he can see everything. You suspect he sees nothing at all. 

“I apologize for the interruption, Sisters. I know you’re hard at work," He says. “But we’re looking for an outlaw on the run.” He pauses, looking over at the two of you with pointed eyes. At your silence, he continues. “William H. Bonney, otherwise known as Billy the Kid,”

“Oh, dear,” Sister Catherine gasps. 

You feign concern also, bringing your fingers to your mouth as a sign of shock. Garrett nods in agreement at your supposed horror. 

“As you no doubt know he is a very dangerous, very unlawful, man,”

“So we’ve heard,” Sister Catherine says, nodding solemnly. “Is that what brings you in today?”

“Yes,” He says. “There was an altercation last night between him and I. I was able to shoot him so he is very hurt, but he got away before I could arrest him or finish the job.”

“Kinda stupid to come to a clinic when you’re a wanted outlaw, Pat,” One of the men behind Garrett grumbles. “We’re wasting our time here.”

You can’t help but agree, despite that being exactly what Billy did. But maybe that’s what makes it smart. You're hopeful that Garrett will listen to his friend, will assume that Billy couldn’t possibly be here and leave the clinic without investigating it. 

The small spark of hope dies as Garrett laughs without mirth. “The Kid’s not stupid. But we’re covering all our bases,” 

“Helloooooo,” A voice calls from another room opposite the patient still occasionally coughing up a lung. “Can someone please pay attention to the sick people around here? Hellooooooooooo?”

Sister Catherine smiles tightly. “Mr. Taylor,” She says by way of explanation. “A rather problematic patient here. He’s a good man, just impatient.”

Sister Ann’s voice can still be heard attempting to soothe her own charge, so Sister Catherine has no choice but to tend to Mr. Taylor. When she disappears from sight, you turn back to Garrett, trying your best to deter suspicion. 

“I can assure you, Sheriff, that we haven’t seen any sign of Mr. Bonney around here,” The lie leaves your lips far too easily for it to feel like the sin that it is.

Garrett nods, and you can tell he believes you, but puts his hands on his hips all the same, one hand pushing aside his coat to rest freely on the hilt of his gun. “Mind if we have a look around?”  

You force a smile on your face. “Not at all. As long as you don’t bother any of the patients. They need their rest,”

“Certainly,”

You lead him around the clinic allowing him and the deputies to search the rooms for their missing outlaw. When they get to Billy’s old room, the room they just vacated not minutes before the Sheriff arrived, you tell them that a patient was recently discharged and that you hadn’t had the time to turn over the room yet. 

“Why is there blood on ‘em?” One of the deputies asks, nodding to the blood stains still covering the stark white of the sheets. 

“A cooking accident,” You reply. “An incorrect knife hold can sometimes do that,”

Another lie. You feel this one a little more than the first. 

Eventually their search comes to the back room. You can’t keep them out, that would be too suspicious, so you allow them to walk through the half filled shelves. It's more than clear that there’s no place to hide anyone here other than the alcove and you're naively hoping they won’t even realize it’s there. 

It’s a large blanket hanging on the wall. Of course, they’re going to notice it. 

And, sure enough, one of the deputy’s eyes cut to the blanket. He heads towards it with a gruff “What’s behind here?” but you intercept him, rushing over to stand between him and the alcove.

The Sheriff and his deputies have their eyes on you now, each one closing in closer to you and the alcove, much too close for comfort.

“Sister,” Garrett says, voice stern with authority. “What’s behind the blanket?”

“It’s our place of prayer here,” You say, voice calm despite your nervousness. “Our altar.” You can’t mess up now. If you show any sign that you’re being untruthful, both you and Billy as well as your fellow Sisters out front will be on a one way trip to the courthouse. You’ll all die hanging from its top banister. “When healing doesn’t seem to be enough, it helps to have a place dedicated to God to call upon his everlasting power to perform miracles.”

Garrett nods. “Mind if we take a look?”

“Yes, actually. I do,” Your quick denial clearly catches him off guard, his eyebrows raising towards his hat. “Just as God bids us to modesty with our clothing, we must also show privacy and modesty in our places of worship. They’re sacred spaces. Surely you understand that, Sheriff,” 

The words feel like poison on your tongue. Using worship and prayer to cover up a lie is the catalyst that makes bile feel like it's rising in your throat. It’s not a lie, you have to remind yourself. It is a makeshift altar, you do use it as a place of worship and prayer. Just . . . not right at this moment. 

The reality of the situation is catching up with you, and you hide your slightly shaking hands by folding them together in front of you. You haven’t lied in years. You lied a lot as a child, a necessity of living with a father who’s anger could strike at a moment’s notice. You resented having to do it back then, forced to sin for the sake of trying to keep peace in the home. It’s much like the situation you find yourself in now, having to lie to try and protect another person. To protect yourself. 

When you found refuge at the convent all those years ago, you were told you would never have to be untruthful ever again.

“God is granting you freedom from your woes,” You were told, and you remember how light those words had made you feel. “Thank him for His good graces with your undying loyalty and strive to always be who He guides you to be.”

You hadn’t lied since, no matter how tough things seemed. Sickly patients lying on their deathbed, scared and begging you for any kind of reassurance that it wasn’t the end for them. You wouldn’t give them false hope. Instead, you would tell them to turn their worries to the Lord, clasping their hands in yours and praying with them.

“Your soul is strong, bright and ever-present,” You would tell them. Sometimes you would let them hold your rosary so they can find comfort in it. “The body is a temple, and we do our best in our life to care for it. You’ve done that. If it weakens now, it is because God is calling your soul back to Him.”

The guilt is clawing at your chest, but you force it back as best as you can as you meet Garrett’s eyes. “I ask that you don’t force us to desecrate that,” 

Garrett just stares at you, an unreadable expression on his face. One deputy just looks between you and Garrett, uncertain with how to proceed in the face of defying authority, and the other deputy that sneered at the thought of Billy even coming to the clinic scoffs at your words. 

“Listen, lady, the law–”

“John, enough,” Garrett interrupts, voice shockingly hard as his eyes cut to his deputy. “She’s a Sister and you’ll show her respect.”

You feel a quick spark of satisfaction at the way the deputy’s confident, power hungry facade dies under the Sheriff's ridicule. He mumbles a quick apology to which you accept with a nod despite how insincere it sounds. 

Garrett nods his head towards the door, silently gesturing for the other two to head towards the exit before he tips his hat at you directly, thanking you for your time and apologizing for any inconvenience their visit may have caused. 

You want to tell him it was no inconvenience at all, but you’ve already sinned enough today and you can’t bear the thought of intentionally adding to the tally without justified need. Instead you settle on curving your lips into a convincing smile, thanking the men in return for their brevity and understanding and wishing them a good rest of their day as you usher them out of the back room and towards the front entrance.

Every single muscle in your body relaxes once they are completely out of the clinic, relief washing over you as you whisper out a quick prayer of thanks to God for allowing everyone to get out of the overwhelmingly dangerous situation unscathed - at least for now. 

Sister Ann and Sister Catherine peek out of their respective rooms when they hear the front door swing shut, their wide eyes mimicking the relief you know is shown in your own. 

“I can’t believe they didn’t find him,” Sister Ann admits, and it pains your heart to see tears begin to well up in her eyes. “I thought this was truly the end for all of us.” 

You have her in your arms in an instant, cradling her small frame against your chest as she begins to cry in earnest. For as scary as it’s been for you so far, you can’t imagine what she’s been going through. Sister Ann and Sister Catherine have only known about Billy for less than no time at all. And yet, despite the short period of time between finding out about Billy, getting him into the alcove, and the entrance and departure of the Sheriff - you’re sure it probably felt like an eternity to her. 

“Hush now, Sister,” You whisper, running a soothing hand along her back. “You’re safe, I promise.”

Sister Catherine places one of her hands on Sister Ann’s back as well, but she’s looking at you when she speaks. “He still can’t stay here,”

You know that. You know. You got lucky that the Sheriff didn’t find Billy this time, but who's to say that he won’t come back when he’s unable to find his missing outlaw anywhere else? Covering all his bases, that’s what he said. He’ll come back again when he sees that his other ‘bases’ have turned up nothing but dead ends. 

Your older brother, Joe, has a cabin just outside of town. It’s a hidden place, specifically built for peace. No visitors. He lives alone, no wife or children to keep him company and he prefers it that way. 

“If I’m alone, I can’t turn into him,” 

You're positive he wouldn’t. Your brother is far from being anything like your father, but the task of trying to prove that to him seems to be out of your skillset. He tells you he’s happy with his life, that he’s chosen the path he feels he needs to be on just as you have. Who are you to pass judgment?

Joe likes the solitude, that much is certain. But he also has an adventurous spirit which guides him on lengthy trips from town to town, exploring all the world has to offer while never having to be tied to one place. He’s away now according to the last letter he sent you, planning to stay in Chihuahua, Mexico for a while and that he’s not sure yet when he’s going to be back. 

“It’s dangerous,” Sister Catherine pushes, taking your silence as reluctance.

“I know,” You say. “I know. I think . . . I think I have an idea.”

The cabin will be empty. Joe isn’t due back for the immediate future, and even if he does return earlier than you suspect he will, you and Billy won’t be in danger. Joe can be trusted. He’ll help you, if need be. You can’t imagine that the Sheriff would ever know about it. It’s secluded - far off of any of the usual paths. It’s safe there. The perfect place to hide the wanted outlaw for a while. He can rest there, heal up uninterrupted for a few weeks until he can safely move around on his own two feet again. 

Sister Catherine listens openly to the idea, but her face is pinched in displeasure. 

“We don’t have much of a choice,” She says, reluctantly. “It seems like the best place for him to disappear to until he’s healed.”

You can hear the underlying pause in her agreement loud and clear. “But?”

“The clinic cannot spare two of us. We would lose half of our staff and it is too much for one person to handle alone per shift,”

“I wouldn’t ask any of you to come with us,” You say. No, for as much as you believe God sent Billy into your life for a reason, this was your mission to bear. You’ve already put your fellow Sisters through enough.

“You want to go alone?” Sister Ann sniffles, raising her head up from your chest.

“You need to think about this,” Sister Catherine says, sternly. “You shouldn’t be alone with him. He is a child of God, yes. But he is also an outlaw and a man. Sometimes, one of those is worse than the other.”

They’re being protective. The more rational part of you is grateful for their concern, and you think that if the positions were switched and one of them were in your position instead, you would react the same way. But a part of you is bitter. They’ve heard the stories. You know exactly how cruel men can be and you know exactly what they’re capable of. It’s a risk you’re taking, but you feel called to take it anyway. Billy needs your help, and God would never put anything in your path that you can’t handle.

“The Lord will protect me,” Despite the truthfulness of your words, you can see how they do little to reassure them. Your next words are better. “The Lord will help me protect myself.”

Sister Ann looks at Sister Catherine, once again bringing her hands together to pick at the reddened skin at the edge of her nail. Sister Catherine sighs, and the back of her hand reaches up to tap her forehead as if feeling the temperature or wiping away sweat. 

“Alright,” She relents. “How do we get him to your brother’s cabin?”

“I don’t know,” You admit. “We need a wagon. Or a large wheelbarrow that we can put him in and attach it to a horse. I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, but I’m sure I can manage.”

“Where are we supposed to get that?” Sister Ann’s tone borders on exasperated. 

As if answering your unspoken prayer, the door to the clinic opens once more, this time revealing a bright faced Samuel Anderson, carrying a crate full of fresh supplies. And behind him, lit up by the sunlight like a bright blessing, is his wagon.

Sam Anderson is the son of local store owner, Edward Anderson, the clinic's top provider for basic supplies that are not strictly medical. While medicine shipments and more specialty items are donated from suppliers farther away, and frankly much less frequent than necessary, Mr. Anderson and Sam never fail to come through with plenty of food for you to make soups and nutritious meals for your patients. On occasion, you even have enough to give away to the families who are stacked together in a small two bedroom on the edge of town. With eight children total between two families, you're honestly not sure how they manage - but you do your best to help when you can. 

Seeing Sam walk through the front door is like a beacon of light from Heaven is shining down on him. He’s smiling already, the crate of food handled carefully between his hands as he lets out a cheery, “Good morning, Sisters”. But as soon as he sees your faces, more specifically when he sees the tear tracks still visible on Sister Ann’s cheeks, he’s placing down the crate and across the clinic’s entrance in a second. 

“What’s going on?” He asks. His hands automatically reach out towards Sister Ann’s face as if to cup it, but he stops himself. Instead he just looks at her worriedly, his concerned gaze leaving her face for only a moment to glance at you and Sister Catherine before they’re back on her, voice low and gentle. “What’s wrong?” 

It’s no secret that Sam harbors some romantic feelings towards Sister Ann. There are days when you feel sorry for him - a young man, good and kind and generous, who you have no doubt would make a fine husband to any lucky woman is in love with one of the four women in the entire county who are incapable of returning his affection. But it’s moments like this when it’s easy to see God’s presence in other people. Sam is as respectful and kind as they come. He accepts his feelings can never be reciprocated and in turn uses his undying love and loyalty to Sister Ann by helping you all at the clinic with anything he can. 

Somehow, he doesn’t expect anything in return, never stares at Sister Ann with an ounce of lust in his eyes, and it warms your heart to see the godly quality that’s usually so absent in men so prevalent in him. 

“Something’s happened,” Sister Ann tells him, her voice still wobbly with emotion. 

“What?”

“Sam,” You say, calling his attention back to you. “I know I have no place to ask this and I won’t fault you if you decline, but– I’m asking.”

“Tell me,” He insists, pulling his hat from his head and holding it to his chest, and God bless how the sincerity in his voice bleeds into his words. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” 

So you tell him everything. Sam listens with wide eyes, shooting panicked glances at Sister Catherine and Sister Ann when you tell him about the Sheriff’s visit, and he’s genuinely sorrowful when your voice gets caught in your throat as you tell him that you had to tell some lies to get him to leave without discovering Billy. He’s nodding already when you mention your brother’s cabin.

“I’ll take you there,” He offers before you can even ask the question. “My wagon is always at your disposal.”

“It’s dangerous. If we’re caught, you would hang with us,” 

Sam lets out a breath, unconsciously glancing over at Sister Ann again. “If the four most wonderful and religiously minded people in town hang for trying to do the right thing, then this isn’t a town or even a world that I want to live in anymore. Please let me take you. It would be my honor,”

A small smile graces your lips as you reach out and gently cup his cheek in thanks. For as many men pull and grind on your nerves with their endless greed and manipulation tactics, Sam is a breath of fresh air - a truly God-fearing man with a good heart.

He’s another person that you’re putting at risk, another life in danger because of the choice you’ve made. You try not to think yourself too selfish. Surely the fact that Billy has turned up in your life is God’s plan, and He does not put obstacles in your way that you cannot overcome. 

He tells you that he’ll come back tomorrow. He has a delivery that’s expected in a town over and if he’s going to make it there and back before nightfall, he needs to leave before the sun comes up. 

“I’ll stop here first,” He says. “We can load him into the back of the wagon while most people are sleeping and make the trip to your brother’s before I head on my way.”

“Thank you, Sam. Honestly,”

“My pleasure,” He nods his head at you, replacing his hat and tipping it kindly towards Sister Catherine and Sister Ann. “Until tomorrow, Sisters,”

The door swings shut behind him as he leaves and you let out a deep breath, hands smoothing over the dark veil covering your head just to feel a bit more grounded before you pick up the crate of food Sam brought. Billy needs to eat something. You're not quite sure how long it's been since his last meal, but even if he ate a minute before bursting through the clinic’s doors in the early morning, he would surely still be hungry and in need of sustenance by now. His body is weak and it needs nourishment to heal. 

Billy’s still sleeping when you peek around the privacy blanket. His head is turned to the side and buried in his pillow as much as he can get it, mouth hanging open as he breathes. Your hand itches to reach out and touch him again, to smooth against his forehead or cup his cheek, maybe place your fingers under his chin to help close his mouth in hopes of him breathing through his nose instead so his mouth doesn’t dry out. 

You’re not sure where this desire is coming from. You’re as affectionate with your patients as any nurse should be - kind and supportive, offering comfort when needed, but not overly so that it can be considered inappropriate. You’re all brothers and sisters, children of God - yes. But there are still social norms that must be considered. 

It feels different with Billy for some reason. 

“I’m going to get you to safety,” You whisper. You’re unsure about if he can hear you in his sleep or not, but you feel the need to tell him anyway. “I promise.”

You fall asleep at some point during the night, slumped against the wall next to the alcove’s entrance. 

You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember feeling tired, exhausted by the stress of the day’s events, and how your eyelids were threatening to close permanently more and more with each blink. The soup you had made still sat out in the small kitchen, and you had wanted to stay close to Billy so that whenever he awoke, you would be there ready to help feed him.

Instead, you wake to the sound of Sister Maria giggling to your left and a low, unfamiliar but still soft voice speaking in Spanish to her.

“Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín,” The voice lets out a small chuckle, the smile on his face evident in his tone despite you not being able to understand most of his words. “Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses.”

“Ese niño,” Sister Maria laughs. “Parece que era un buen amigo.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear how he loses the smile in his voice. “Sí, él era,”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you step over to where Sister Maria is kneeling in front of Billy’s cot. It’s only now you see the mostly finished bowl of soup in her hands. Billy’s sitting up slightly, back propped up against his pillows enough to allow him to sit up a bit straighter but not enough to pull too much on his stitches.

At seeing your movement, his eyes snap to your approaching frame, big blue orbs staring up at you and you can’t help the relief you feel at seeing them.

“You’re awake,” You breathe, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Thank the Lord,”

His lips twitch a bit in what looks like a suppressed smile. “Kinda sounds like I should be thankin' you,” He says, and you notice how prominent the shift in his accent is as he seamlessly switches from Spanish to English. “Sister Maria says that you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”

You shake your head, humbly. “Oh, no. Sister Maria and I work together as a team. I couldn’t have done it without her aid,”

“You show no fear,” Sister Maria insists. “Where I hesitate, you show mercy and strength. It is because of you that we are all alive now.”

“See?” Billy says with a blinding grin, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he is while no longer at death’s door. “My angel,”

You feel your face heat up at the endearment. An angel. Surely the comparison shouldn’t fluster you like it does. You’ve thought of your fellow nuns as the embodiment of angels before, angelic beings put into human bodies by the grace of God to spread His word. You know that’s not exactly true, that you’re just using your belief of what God’s angels would be like and seeing those beings in your fellow Sisters just like Billy is doing with you now, but you’ve never once thought yourself to be comparable to such a holy being and the compliment makes you flush.

You run a hand across your face, feeling the warmth under your palm, and clear your throat. “Oh, well, thank you,”

Sister Maria stands, taking the nearly finished bowl of soup with her. “He has eaten plenty and I changed his covering as soon as he woke up. You will want to change it again when you get to the cabin.”

“That’s great. Thank you,”

“De nada. I’ll go check on the patients and keep an eye out for Sam,”

She nods to you and Billy before she turns to leave, a small smile pulling at her lips when Billy rasps out a soft, “Gracias, Hermana,”

When she’s gone, you take her place in front of Billy, kneeling at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better thanks to you,” He responds, wide eyes trained on yours, a smirk playing at his lips as he continues. “Don’t feel much like I’m dyin’ anymore,”

A small laugh escapes you at his morbid joke. “Well, I’d say that’s a very good thing then,”

“Sister Maria said the Sheriff came lookin’ for me,” 

“He did,” You confirm. “The Lord kept us all safe though and has given us an opportunity to get you to safety.”

Billy’s eyebrow raises skeptically. “Sounds like it was more your doin' than the Lord’s,”

You try to not let the slight against God rattle you. You had sensed this was coming anyway. William H. Bonney a.k.a Billy the Kid is an outlaw afterall, and no outlaw becomes an outlaw while still maintaining a positive relationship with the Heavenly Father. He’s gone through many hardships no doubt, and has more than likely deemed his bad luck in life as God’s personal vendetta against him.

“The Lord speaks through all of us, if only we have an open heart to hear him.” You tell him.  “Fear can make His words harder to hear, and I’m thankful that He was able to guide my mind and heart enough through the fear for us to get to safety.”

“Hm,” Billy hums, and you can tell how much he doesn’t believe your words. He doesn’t argue though. “And where exactly is this safe place you’re gonna take me?”

“My brother has a cabin just outside of town. It’s well secluded and unknown to most. We’ll be safe there until you’re healed enough to go on your own.”

Billy’s eyes drop to your hand still resting on his shoulder, thick dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks before his bright blue eyes are locked on yours again. “You gonna be takin’ care of me, Sister?”

“Of course, I will,” You reply. “We shall see you well again, Billy. I promise.”

His own arm crosses his chest so his hand can rest on your own, his eyes wide and so earnest as he whispers a quiet, “Thank you,”

It’s only about an hour longer before Sam arrives. It’s still early morning, the sun still a ways away from coming up behind the horizon line, and town is silent. Sam pulls his wagon up to the back door of the backroom before coming around the front to help push it open from the inside. It’s been so long since it’s been opened. The door was once used for the scheduled delivery of goods for easy access to the storage area, but as years went on and the county and surrounding counties became overrun with greed and poverty, the shipments became less frequent. Now, anything needed just comes through the front door. It’s never too much anyway, so what’s a trip or two to the backroom while carrying a crate. 

Sam slams his body against the door a few times, the wood groaning in protest under his weight before it finally swings open. Billy watches from his place on the cot, his eyes threatening to close but forcing himself to stay awake. You want to tell him to sleep, he needs his rest to help him heal and recover, but you’re too busy checking your bag to make sure you haven't forgotten anything before tossing it in the back of the wagon. You need to leave before the townspeople start to wake up. If someone sees you, if just one person witnesses you smuggling away a wanted outlaw, then all of this would have been for nothing. 

“Sister y/n,” Sam calls, squatting at the head of the cot. He’s got his arms wrapped around Billy’s torso. “Come grab his legs. We’ll do our best not to jostle his wound,”

You come to a kneel at Billy’s legs, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “Do your best to relax, okay? If you tense, you might tear your stitches,”

Billy lets out a harsh breath through his nose, clearly nervous, but he nods anyway, brows furrowed in determination. 

Together you and Sam hoist him up. He gasps, groaning as his wound pulls but you can see how he’s trying to keep his stomach untensed. Getting him into the back of the wagon is not graceful, and you find yourself spewing endless apologies the whole time despite the relatively short journey. 

Sam’s laid out a bed of hay covered by two thick blankets throughout the entire bed of the wagon. Crates of food and other supplies take up half of the bed, but he’s managed to make it so Billy will have enough room to lay comfortably on his designated side. Billy sighs as he’s laid down on it, one of his legs bent at the knee and his palms pressing into the makeshift mattress as he cranes his neck up to look at you. You ball up a spare blanket, tucking it under his head before you push him back down with a gentle hand on his forehead.

“Rest now, Billy,” You tell him, crawling out backwards and helping Sam slide on the rectangular backing on the wagon to secure it shut. “We’ll be there when you wake up,”

His eyes stay locked on you as you circle the wagon towards the front. Sam helps you up onto the spring seat before jogging around the rear and hauling himself into the driver's seat. You smooth out your tunic, looking around the dark street for any suspicious or wandering eyes that might be peeking out from around buildings or through windows. You don’t see any, even as one of the horses whinnies when Sam urges them forward. The clinic is located towards the edge of town, so it only takes a few minutes of nervous eyes and your head on a swivel before the wagon is passing the final few buildings that mark the town’s end of population and you can relax.

You blow out a deep breath, meeting Sam’s equally relieved gaze as he snaps the reins and nudges the horses a little faster. You look over your shoulder to check on Billy and you’re expecting to see him sleeping, no doubt still exhausted from the trauma of taking a bullet. Instead, he’s looking at you, head twisting so he can see your elevated frame from his laid out position. His eyes seem to pierce into yours, so blue and intense as he watches you that it makes your breathing hitch in your throat. 

You’ve never seen eyes so beautiful before. Like endless pools of glistening water. Surely God must have taken much care when crafting them for him. 

You feel your skin prickle under his stare, body straightening in your seat. He doesn’t stop watching you.

“Sleep,” You tell him. “You’re safe, I promise.” And thankfully he listens, eyes trained on your face for just a moment more before closing his eyes. The tingling feeling in your body dissipates with the removed gaze. 

Your gaze turns around the front again, looking out to the vast stretch of land before you as you leave the civilization of town behind.

“Sam,” You start, looking for anything to pass the time and distract from whatever unusualness just happened between you and your charge. “How’s your mother?”

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

✧Clockwork (Natalie Ouellette)✧

- Nineteen!

- 6’1, super toned & has a pretty deep tan. Lots of beauty marks!!

- Born in Romania!! Moved to Canada when she was eleven, still has an accent. For the most part she’s fluent in English, but writing/ reading it is a challenge for her.

- Was raised by her mom and stepdad after her and her mom moved to Canada. Her upbringing was pretty rough, her parents and her late father were neglectful and abusive.

- Would never admit it, but she finds a lot of comfort in living at the mansion. She doesn’t get along with everyone, but it’s nice having kind of a found-family.

- Gets along well with Toby, but they’re not into each other. She sees him as a brother she never had, and he almost sees Lyra in her. Kind of thinks Cody’s a loser, but she doesn’t say that to his face. She makes sure to say it loud enough for him to hear though.

- Watches TV on the loudest volume possible.

- Total gym rat. When she needs to bulk she eats wholewheat bread constantly. Adds protein powder to absolutely everything she drinks, even water. Has a drawer and mini fridge in her room dedicated protein bars and stuff like that.

- Her favorite colors are army green and brown.

- Mainly hangs out with Nina. Sometimes Kate hangs out with them, they have sort of a girl group going on. Kate doesn’t really talk, but they can tell she wants to be there. (No they can’t, they just hope she does.)

- LOVES summer. She can’t swim so she lays out and tans almost everyday, also loves going on runs when it’s hot out.

- Super competitive. If she has the opportunity to turn something into a contest, she will.

- Allergic to cats, but completely denies it. She’ll be a sneezing mess and refuses to take any allergy medicine.

- Has Nina sit on her back while she does push ups.

- Takes smoke breaks with Liu and Tim (separately.) They’re really easy for her to get along with. Sometimes Tim can’t understand her accent, so he just nods and pretends he knows what’s going on.

- Has an eyebrow piercing Nina gave her!!

- Drinks raw eggs 🙁.

- Bisexual, but leans towards women. (Specifically Jane and a little bit of Kate.)

- PLAYED FOOTBALL IN HIGHSCHOOL!! She had a bunch of trophies for it, but no one cared enough to put them on display.

- If she’s not with Nina, she’s usually around Jane. They’re both comfortable sitting in each other’s silence or watching a movie together, it’s really the only time either of them give themselves a break.

- Has gotten to know EJ a lot since she tends to overwork herself and sprain her ankle or tear a muscle. Sometimes if most of the mansion is out and she has no one to talk to she’ll stop by the infirmary and talk to him if he’s not busy.

- Super warm blooded. In the winter she leaves her window open to cool down, and has a blanket in her closet that she only uses if her and Jane are watching a movie.

- Is usually sent on missions alone, but the rare times she’s put with someone else it’s usually Rouge. They work crazy well together, but they’re both efficient enough on their own to where they don’t rely on partners.

- DESPISES Jeff. After everything she’s heard from Jane, Liu, and Nina, there’s not a single reason for her to tolerate him. Every time she sees him in the hall she makes sure to give him a dirty look.

- Doesn’t wash her dishes. Ever. Just puts them in the sink without even rinsing them.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<

[homiesexuallaj]

"Finally"

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: a slow burn (im so sorry), friend to lovers, fluff, you're Sarah's babysitter, you finding out Eric lore, stray cat! Eric, robbery, a man tried to rob you, knife to the throat, cuts, blood, nurse! Eric, slight angst, murder, subtle flirting, confessing, slightly proofread

A/N: Requested by @lovergrrllllll !! And my request for Eric are still open so if you have an idea then feel free to drop it into my askbox!!

———

You’d been friends with Eric for a few years now. You both had tiptoed into the friendship, unsure of each other due to you being new to the city and not knowing anyone and Eric having trust issues. You two had initially met because you were Sarah’s new babysitter.

Due to Eric being previously dead, Sarah’s mom had lost her babysitter and needed a new one. With a few unwilling or unsuccessful people, you eventually found your way into their lives and took care of Sarah whenever her mom was working, which was whatever time her boss thought she needed to work.

Sarah always dragged you around town, bringing you to arcades or skateparks, music stores or libraries. It was the way you learned your way around the city and met new people, like Eric Draven.

Eric Draven was standoffish at first, so much so you couldn’t really figure out if he liked you. He liked to watch you and Sarah from afar, not really preferring to interact with Sarah’s new friend. But once he figured out that you meant no harm and actually cared for the girl, Eric started warming up.

It was almost like befriending a street cat. Don’t make any sudden movements and let the cat approach you on its own time, even if that means having a slightly awkward six foot sitting distance between you two. But oh well, as long as you two were getting along.

Most of time, you three hung out at at Sarah’s apartment, playing a bit of house with each other. Eric was with you and Sarah more often than not, which you never minded. You usually cooked for the three of you (and made enough for leftovers for a few days), but one day when Eric had beat you to Sarah’s house you found out Eric was quite a good cook and that’s when you two agreed to take turns.

A lot of your guys’ chores/babysitting duties started out that way, when either you or Eric found your certain niche, one of y’all either took over that task or took turns.

It was a domestic friendship between you and Eric, often acting as makeshift parents for Sarah.

Before long, you opened up your apartment as another hang out spot, especially when Sarah’s mom had some company over.

It was easy for Sarah to make herself at home and you often found her lounging on your couch and watching tv. Eric often squeezed himself into the corner and against the arm of your couch, he never looked comfortable. It definitely didn’t help when Sarah took up at least one and a half cushions on her own, which left you smushed between the child and poor, tense Eric.

Soon enough, you apartment became a second home for Sarah. She often came over after school and slept over when her mom was working a late shift. And you were happy to have the child in your apartment, it made it more lively and less quiet. Often, when you cleaned your apartment, you found things of Sarah’s scattered around. You could only shake your head.

It got to the point where you even cleared out a drawer on in your dresser for Sarah so she had a change of clothes or some pajamas. You even had a few personal blankets and pillows for Sarah on your couch and bed. Sarah often slept in your bed with you during sleepovers, which you never minded and was just happy with the company.

Slowly, Eric got comfortable in your apartment. Finally, he chose leave his shoes by the front door and hang up his jacket either over the arm of a couch or on the back of one of your dining room chairs. You were glad that the man finally made himself comfortable at your apartment, even enough to sit on your couch like a normal person and turn whatever he wanted to watch on your tv.

Eric often came over with or after Sarah showed up, taking care of a few Sarah duties if you were busy doing something else. Sometimes he even cooked you three dinner or brought by some takeout. But Eric never stayed too late and you thought he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Which you appreciated but, in your opinion, you didn't think Eric was capable of overstaying. But you wanted Eric to be comfortable, letting him do as he pleased.

Throughout the years, Eric and you became closer. You two hung out more, either with Sarah or one-on-one. You learned about each others’s past (mostly), your hobbies, where you worked, and each other’s quirks. You also learned that Eric lived with this precinct’s police sergeant, and even met him a few times in passing. And as you two got closer, you noticed that a crow was often perched outside your windows or on the gutter of the building you worked at. You had no idea what that was about but enjoyed the company as you walked home and even bought the bird a bird feeder so it was fed.

Eventually, you learned the truth about Eric’s past. As everything had come to light, it had made dots click to together in your brain and made you realize how much Eric and Sarah beat around the bush when talking about the man’s past.

There was a night where you had to close for work and it was plenty past sunset. The orange street lights had lit the sidewalks up enough for you to find your way home, but not enough for the shadows to disappear. You weren’t too nervous about the circumstance, having done this a few times now.

But you found yourself backed against a corner when a man had leapt from one of the darker shadows. He tried to reach around to grab your wallet and keys, but you struggled and fought even as you were pushed the ground. You had only stilled when the strange man was above you, holding a sharp pocket knife to your jugular.

“This could’ve been easy,” The man hissed. “Just a few bucks and you would’ve gotten away with no harm done.”

He’d pressed the knife against your throat more and you felt the sting of your skin being pierced. You grabbed at his wrist, urging the man to stop his motions. You whimpered, not believing this is how you were going to go out.

Suddenly, the man was hoisted from you, but not without the tip of the pocket knife nicking just beside your jugular. You scrambled away, holding your hand up to your leaking wounds, thankfully it was just a trickle.

A second man had appeared, and if it weren’t for the streetlight he was standing under, you would’ve thought that the first man was being held up by a shadow by the back of his shirt.

The second man wore all black, but most of his figure was covered by a long, black trenchcoat. Most of his face was covered by black, wavy hair but a ghostly white face peaked its way through the strands. He held the first man up off the ground by the back of his shirt, practically choking the man out.

The first man, your assailant, managed to choke out an “oh shit” as he tried to kick and claw at the second man. On a whim, your assailant tried to stab at your savior, the second man, but he was merely slapped away.

The knife clanked to the ground, bouncing away in your direction.

“It’s not nice to go after women in the dark,” Your savior growled.

Your assailant could only sputter in response.

Your savior scoffed and dropped the struggling man to the ground. The first man tried to crawl away from the second, but the second man kicked him in the side. Your assailant cried out and curled into a messy ball, clutching his ribs.

“Oh no you don’t,” Your savior growled. “I can’t have you roaming the streets.”

You savior then fished another pocket knife that was clipped to your assailants pants. He flipped it open almost mockingly and held it up against the other man’s neck for a few seconds before speaking again.

“But I can repay the favor,” Your savior said almost too calmly.

He then pressed the blade long-ways into your assailants skin, ignoring the pleas and cries for mercy. As the blade broke skin, your assailant struggled and tried to push away the figure in black. Before he could put up too much of a fight, he drew the blade to the side in a quick motion.

You turned your head before the motion was finished and was left hearing struggling gurgles of breath. You heard something drop and a shuffling accompanying the sounds of gurgles. Then some footsteps coming in your direction. You looked up and backed away as your savior stepped towards you. You were scared of him now. He just killed a man in front of you, for you. How could you not be scared now? You were afraid that you might be next, or something worse.

“Hey, you’re okay,” The man in black tried to comfort you in a familiar voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Above all the shock and fear you were feeling, a flash of familiarity towards your savior lit up in your brain. You observed the stranger.

He had black wavy hair, dripping wet from the downpour of rain that had stopped only moments before you left from work. His cheekbones were prominent and you recognized the kindness swirling in his dark orbs. When you looked down, you could almost swear you recognized the large hands offering you safety up and away from the concrete sidewalk.

And then it clicked.

You did know this man. It was unmistakably your dear friend that helped you babysit Sarah. Eric Draven.

“Eric?” You questioned, still not taking your savior’s outstretched hand.

He seemed surprised that you recognized him in his vigilante makeup and clothes. With widened eyes, he nodded and was unable to speak.

You’d heard about Detroit’s vigilante, mostly through the morning news and your daily newspaper. With all the blurry photos, you could've never guessed it was your friend. It made sense now, why he never stayed late at your apartment with you and Sarah and why you really only saw him after noon.

After the shock subsided, you took Eric’s hand and let him hoist you up from the ground. His tall stature kept you shielded from his dirty work. You didn’t say anything for a few minutes, only staring up at him as you tried to assess your friend and decipher the emotions swirling in his eyes.

"You alright?" The shock seem to have had evaporated from his body in just a few moments, replaced with concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

"Umm.. Just a bit shaken up," You tell Eric.

Eric hummed, tilting his head a bit as he let go of one of your hands. You kept your head tilted up to look at Eric but watched his hand as it went for your throat. He gently removed your own hand from your throat, which was covered in blood you found out after taking a peak. You felt Eric use his fingers to prod around the small cuts, and you could feel as he wiped away the leaking blood.

"This one here," Eric muttered, poking at your jugular. "Is bleeding quite a bit, which is expected cause this is a sensitive area."

You whimpered and gripped Eric's wrist when he accidentally swiped his thumb across the deeper of the cuts. You looked up at his face again and caught a glance before the man looked back down at your neck.

"Sorry," Eric apologized softly, pulling his hand away. His fingers were covered in fresh blood, making them sticky. "Let's get you home so we can get you patched up."

Eric kept a hand on you the entire walk back to your apartment. You led the way and your friend kept a lookout, glancing around corners and keeping his eye on particularly dark shadows.

It wasn't long before you unlocked your apartment door and led the way in. You left Eric behind in your living room as he milled about, rummaging around a bit. You headed straight to your bathroom and fished the first aid kit from under your skin. You opened the plastic box and rummaged through the box to find your needed supplies. But it was hard to finger through the individual items with one hand, as your other was clasped against your neck to prevent yourself from making a mess.

"I can do that," A hand grabbed the box and slid it away from you.

Eric stood beside you, lacking his long trenchcoat. You could see the holes and and tears that were littered throughout the long-sleeved shirt, of which he had the sleeves pushed up just before his elbows. The shirt hugged his form, showing off his lean but muscular form. Eric didn’t wear too many skin tight clothes, so it was a sight seeing how broad his shoulders were and how narrow his waist was. You couldn’t help but stare as Eric got out his needed supplies, but you broke it when the man looked up at you.

He tore open a small package of singular use alcohol wet cloths and moved your hand away from your throat to wipe away at smeared blood and germs.

“So you’re The Crow,” you started, watching Eric’s face for a reaction.”

The wiping of blood stopped momentarily before resuming as normal.

Eric nodded, “Yes, but I figured you would’ve found out sooner.”

“Why?” You asked.

“Well I am the same Eric Draven from those years ago, and the same from Hangman’s Joke,” Eric explained. “Dead fiancé and all.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, not meaning to bring up a bad past.

“Don’t be,” Eric finished wiping. “I’ve grown and healed from it. Everyone moves on eventually.”

You nodded and watched as the man opened one of the packets for a large bandaid. He tore away the white paper that protected the adhesive edges of the bandaid and moved in to stick it to your neck. Eric was close as he smoothed down the edges. His fingers grazed against your neck as he looked down at you, observing your features.

You could feel your neck and face flush under his gaze. Your eyes flickered between Eric's frantically. He only gazed down at you calmly. He didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular, but you were panicky and trying to figure out what exactly Eric was looking for from you. But it was nothing. Eric was simply observing.

After a few moments of frantic heartbeats, Eric pulled away and straightened up to his full height. He turned and latched your little first aid box closed. He almost acted like he didn't send you into a panic over his unprompted staring.

You were both quiet as you cleaned up the bathroom and ventured out into your living room. You both hovered awkwardly, not sure what the next move either of you were going to make.

"Thank you," You said quietly, looking up at Eric.

Moreso here than in the bathroom, you realized just how tall your friend was. He was a good head or so taller than you. It made you nervous for some reason, and you couldn't explain the butterflies that fluttered around in your stomach. Nor the clamminess of your palms.

"You're welcome," Eric responded, just an octave louder than your own voice. "Stay safe at night, alright? Carry some pepper spray or something from now on."

"Alright. I can do that," You turned to grab and hand Eric his coat only to find it was already gone. "Eric-?"

When you turned, Eric was already gone. It was like he wasn't even there. There was no evidence of him really ever being there. You looked around, confused. How can someone just disappear into thin air like that?

A few days past before you saw Sarah again and you told her everything that happened. Like, everything.

Sarah firstly apologized for keeping a pretty big secret from you. She was just worried how you would react, and neither her nor Eric wanted to scare you away. You were just so nice and caring and Eric likes you a lot so they didn't want to scare you away. But then she listened very intently and begged from every detail on hearing that Eric stayed after to help clean you up a bit.

Of course, you answered every and any question the girl had. You could tell she was eating it all up.

At the moment, you were re-stocking some bookshelves at the quiet library you worked at. Sarah followed you around, quietly blabbing your ear off.

"I'm surprised Eric didn't like stay the night afterwards or something," Sarah wondered to herself outloud.

"Why do you say that?" You asked, glancing to the side at the child before resuming your task.

"Cause he really likes you, duh," Sarah said matter-of-factly, like her statement was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You keep saying that," You pointed out. "What do you mean he likes me?"

"Like it's not obvious!" Sarah responded. "C'mon! He walks you home and insists that he bandages you up and like stares at you for a really long time. Eric definitely likes you."

"Oh," Is the only way you can seem to respond.

"Oh," Sarah copied, mocking you.

It's like a whole new door opened before you and suddenly a lot of things made sense.

Moreso recently, Eric had really been spending one-on-one time with you. He'd been visiting your apartment more often, even when Sarah wasn't there. You two occasionally went on walks around your neighborhood and often stopped to get a treat before heading back home. If it was a bit chilly or a windy, Eric was offering you whatever jacket he was wearing that day. If you tried to deny, he would insist and would tell you not to worry about him. To Eric, it wasn't really that cold outside anyway. When Sarah was with you both at your apartment, Eric had almost always decided to sit beside you either at your small dining table or on the couch, and often rested an arm behind you on the couch. And over time, Eric had slowly tested the waters on prolonged physical contact, like a hand on your lower back while squeezing past you or when leading you away from something. There were also the instances of absentmindedly fixing your hair, a hand on your knee, or using the often rainy days as an excuse to squeeze you both under his coat before finding suitable shelter when Eric forgot an umbrella (which was often).

It was all that and more bouts of small things that really added up after Sarah's words.

You couldn't help the heat swelling into your cheeks and the sudden tightness of your chest. Your hands shook a little from a sudden surge of adrenaline as you pushed books back into their spots on the shelves. Sarah's continuous blabbing was drowned out by thoughts and realizations about Eric, about Eric and you.

That night, Sarah and Eric made themselves comfortable in your apartment.

Sarah's mom was working particularly late that night, so Sarah was able to spend the night. She sat on the couch and was watching some cartoon that she found on tv.

It was cold tonight, so you were in the kitchen cooking up a sort of chili. You were content and warm, slightly drowning out the background noise of your apartment. You almost didn't hear the thudding of boots that were walking in your direction. The only thing to completely pull you out of your head was the small touch to the middle of your back. You jumped slightly as the person spoke.

"Smells good," A low voice spoke.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Eric leaning over your shoulder, watching the bubbling liquid of chili. He was so close that a few stray pieces of hair tickled the side of your face.

"Well, it's almost done if you're hungry," You inform him, tapping the spoon you're stirring with against the rim of the pot before setting it aside.

You turn to face the man, who only backs up about half a step and drops his hand from your back. You can tell Eric's slouching just a bit, but he still easily towers over you. You watch as the man observes you and as he brings a hand to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. Heat rushes to your face at the action.

After a few moments of staring, you heard a thick bubble of chili pop behind you, which brought you out of your staring trance.

"Alright, mister," You swatted at Eric playfully. "Out of my kitchen while I finish up."

You urged the tall man back towards your living room and turned when Eric made his way to the couch and joined Sarah. You could hear Eric and Sarah conversing quietly behind you as you finished dinner.

Not before long, you officially finished dinner and everyone dished up. The three of you sat at your small dining room table in view of the tv. Between watching whatever was on, you three talked about what's happened since you last saw each other or stuff you've heard about around town.

After eating, you three migrated to the couch and eventually settled down, fully and happy. Sarah sat in her usual spot against one of the couch's arms and stretched out her legs onto your lap. Her head leaned propped up against a pillow that the kid had placed as a barrier between her head and the arm of the couch. Eric sat on the opposite side of the couch, lacking shoes and his usual jacket. He sat forward but slouched into the couch with one arm bent at the elbow to rest on the arm of the couch and the other thrown across the back cushions. You sat between the two, sitting at a respectable distance from Eric, or as much as Sarah was willing to give you. You sat down into the couch with your head thrown back to rest on the back cushions and Eric's arm, as it was in the way of the cushions but it seemed like neither of you minded your head on his arm.

From your peripherals, you could see Eric looking in your direction. His head was kinked forward a bit, possibly looking past you.

You turned your head, curious at what caught his attention.

Sarah was passed out in her corner. Her arms crossed against her chest and head nestled in between her pillow and the back cushions of the couch. She looked peaceful. Her face lacked the frequent ornery expression that she wore.

You huffed a smile and got back into your original position, getting comfy again.

"I like you, y'know?" Eric stated quietly, voice just above a whisper.

"I know," You think nothing about his statement, forgetting what Sarah told you just hours earlier.

"No, Y/N," Eric saying your name really caught your attention. You turned your head towards him as he continued. "I really like you."

"Oh," You stared at Eric, heat already rushing towards your face and heart speeding up due to nervousness and anticipation. "Really?"

"Yeah," Your friend looked sheepish as he confessed.

"That's...," You paused, choosing your words out carefully amongst your racing thoughts. "I like you too, Eric."

"Really?" He seemed surprised. "Enough to be my girlfriend?"

"Of course, Eric," You tell him. "We hang out like all the time. So, I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Eric's slightly nervous expression shifted into something that was akin to uncontained happiness. He smiled so wide his cheeks almost caused his eyes to squint closed. Using the arm under your head, Eric pulled you close, like super close and into his chest.

You hugged him back the best you could in this position, squeezing him with almost the same amount of strength he squeezed you with.

"This is like.. so cool," Eric whispered loud enough for you to hear.

You shook your head at him, "You're a dork."

You two settled into each other, adjusting so you two could hold each other comfortably. A bit of movement caught your attention and you looked over to see Sarah look at you two with squinted eyes before settling back down.

"Finally," She sighed, pulling a blanket that you had on the back of the couch over herself.

You and Eric laughed quietly at her reaction, trying to stay quiet so the child was able to go back to sleep.

———

Request:

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part three

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; after beckendorf does some research with silena, luke finally knows how to ask you out (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2642

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking

➻ so i immediately got hit with a ton of uni work lols (so mean for first week??) so this took a little longer than expected sorries!!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

While you were being tormented by the two boys Camp Half-Blood (or maybe your mom?) kept sending your way, Charles was following Silena around like a lost puppy, noting down whatever she could find about you in your limited personal space in the Aphrodite cabin. After several minutes of nothing promising, he was starting to feel hopeless.

“She’s not a…” Beckendorf trailed off, looking for more delicate phrasing.

“Girl in Red fan? No. I found a picture of Heath Ledger under her bunk once so I’m pretty sure she’s not harbouring any queer feelings.”

“So that’s the kind of guy she likes? Pretty guys?”

“I don’t know,” Silena said impetuously, “All I’ve ever heard her say is that she’d die before dating a guy that smokes.” Beckendorf cringed. That was an issue. Silena continued mindlessly, digging through your drawers and belongings. She pulled out your reading list, planner and a sticky note of things you were going to do when you left after summer. Finally, Silena let out a devious giggle as she dug through your top drawer. She didn’t let Beckendorf wonder for long, as she pulled out a pretty pair of lacy black underwear.

It wasn’t the most scandalous piece of lingerie sitting in that cabin — not by far, but Beckendorf still blushed like the teenage boy he was, almost too afraid to look at the scrap of fabric.

“And, uh, what does that tell us?” He asked, eyes anywhere but the cloth.

“She wants to have sex someday, that’s what,” She said it as if it were obvious, and Beckendorf wished a hole would open up and swallow him down. He really didn’t want to be talking about your sexual desire right now.

“She might just like the colour?” He mumbled, hand running over his hair in an effort to ground him.

“You don’t buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it.” Beckendorf felt kind of guilty, he figured he probably wasn’t who you had in mind when buying black lingerie, and it was starting to feel like a serious invasion of privacy. That was only heightened when Silena pointedly avoided telling him which area was hers, saying it was ‘private’. He rationalised his actions by praying to the Gods the plan would work and everyone would get a happy ever after.

Still, Percy and Beckendorf took this research to Luke in his semi-secret spot behind the training arena, where he could drink and smoke without being worried about being caught by the younger kids or Chiron. He didn’t look exactly happy to see them, but Beckendorf thought he might just be warming up to them.

“So, what’ve you got for me?” He asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Insights into a very complicated girl,” Percy said, dislike of you obvious.

“Just one question,” Beckendorf asked “Should you be drinking if you don’t have a liver?” One of his new brothers had told him the rumour that Luke had sold his liver on the black market during his quest for a pack of cigarettes and a ticket back to camp.

“She hates smokers!” Percy interrupted, hopefully before Luke could process what Beckendorf had said, and very successfully redirected his focus as Beckendorf grabbed the lit cigarette out of his hand, snuffing it out on the dirt.

“So I’m a… non-smoker now?” Luke spat the words, sounding almost disgusted with himself.

“Just for now,” Beckendorf assured him. “And one more problem — Silena said that she likes ‘pretty guys’.” A tense silence fell upon them and Charles wished that sometimes he would think before he spoke. Luke’s gaze on him was heavy and intimidating, and if Percy wasn’t there with him Beckendorf probably would have cowered and escaped.

“Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?” Luke asked, and if he had to say, Beckendorf thought his attitude right now definitely wasn’t helping his case. He and Percy shared a quick look before reassuring Luke that he absolutely was a pretty guy, they just had limited experience in deciding those labels. Satisfied, Luke glanced at the list Beckendorf handed him of all of your interests and engagements. He frowned, and both the younger boys exchanged uneasy eye contact.

“So what, I’m supposed to buy her noodles and books and sit around listening to some shitty girl power band?” He asked, dread and boredom evident in his eyes.

“Have you ever been to Club Skunk? Her favourite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Beckendorf provided, disheartened by the quick shake of Luke’s head.

“I cannot be seen at Club Skunk.”

“But she’s gonna be there! She’s got tickets!” He protested, and Percy put a subtle hand on his arm.

“Dude, everyone you know is here. No one’s gonna see you at Club Skunk and think you’re less of a man or whatever. I’ll tell everyone you’re off in the woods smoking weed or something.” Luke looked at them for a long moment, seemingly considering the offer. Finally he agreed, and Beckendorf thought it may have just been to get them to go away, but he was happy enough.

Luke, having gotten over the humiliation it would be to go to Club Skunk, was more than interested at the new piece of information he’d just learned. He thought he was the only one who snuck out of camp, and he wondered how often you did it. Reasonably frequently, he guessed, since you were going to all the trouble to see a band that probably played around the state constantly. You just kept on surprising him, and though it was all a bit of an effort on his part, he had started to enjoy getting to know the parts of you that you kept hidden behind the icy exterior.

You, on the other hand, were getting really weirded out. You might’ve just been paranoid, but you were sure that the new Hephaestus kid who was friends with Percy kept staring at you. Even Percy glanced at you more than once during dinner, something you didn’t think had ever happened before — and you were not looking for attention from the camp’s golden boy, no matter how many times he’d probably saved your life by extension of his quests. Those two, coupled with Luke, whose attentions had inexplicably been focused on you for the last week, made you feel a bit like an animal on display; violently uncomfortable. As you left the meal you shot Beckendorf a nasty glare, somewhat satisfied when he jumped and averted his eyes. You shook your head in a physical attempt to clear the burdens of your thoughts. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry about any of the campers or the stupidity that flowed around the grounds.

About twenty minutes after the campfire started and the rest of the camp were safely together, you began the trek up to the Hamptons — the closest city with a venue. You waited anxiously for the bus to pick you up outside the camp lines, looking over your shoulder to ensure no one had caught you. If your adventures got around camp then Silena would absolutely tell your father as payback for being the reason she can’t date, and that was a whole new set of issues you really didn’t care to deal with. Luke, standing in the shadows watching, felt almost bad for spying on you. Almost.

You could feel your shoulders relax as you got further and further away from camp, the judgement and expectations of people you didn’t even like far behind you for the night. You’d been looking forward to this show since you got tickets with your friends during the school term, and you were determined to make it worth the pain of summer. And it really, really was. Your whole friend group had made it, making it a long awaited reunion, and the band was one you’d been following for years. You danced with all your energy, gleefully shouting lyrics and laughing loudly when you got them terribly wrong.

Luke watched this from his seat at the bar, entranced in your private bubble amongst the chaos. You were smiling — a rare sight at all at camp — but this was one he didn’t think he’d ever seen in all his years of knowing you. It wasn’t filled with pride like the ones you tried to conceal when you got a new record on the climbing wall or you finally beat Clarisse in a training match, nor was it the satisfied smirk you had when you put an egotistical camper in their place or beat up jerks like Ethan. Your smile was alight with joy; relaxed and wholehearted happiness that spread through the room and seemed infectious to anyone who passed you.

It was at that moment that Luke truly understood how you were a daughter of Aphrodite. The way the lights reflected off your hair and your eyes, the easy way you moved your body to the music, everything about you suddenly seemed perfect, and he wondered how he’d never noticed it before. Your appearance hadn’t changed drastically; your hair was loose instead of the practical up-do needed for camp, you wore a tight fitted crop top instead of the camp shirt and you might’ve had some glitter smeared around your eyes. All inconspicuous, ordinary things, yet you seemed like a brand new person. Luke decided he liked this version of you, and if this whole plan failed, at least he’d gotten a glimpse into your real world and behind the facade you hid with at camp.

He was ripped from his thoughts when he saw you make a drinking gesture to your friend, heading towards him unwittingly. He turned in his seat hurriedly, trying to act cool and unaware. You spotted him almost immediately, persona switching up as disgust crept back under your skin.

“If you’re going to ask me out again, could you just get it over with now so I can get back to enjoying my night?” You sighed, grabbing the water bottles from the bartender.

“Would you mind? You’re kind of ruining this for me.” Luke gestured around, hoping his acting chops were as good as he needed. You ignored it either way.

“You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke,” You noted, curiosity getting the better of you.

“I quit. Apparently they’re bad for you.” You raised an eyebrow, almost too surprised to come up with a quip.

“You did?” You hated how genuine it sounded and turned to go, sensing him get up to follow you.

“You know, I was watching you out there before,” He yelled over the music, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy.” In possibly the worst timing in history, the song ended and the entire club was treated to Luke’s compliment. You both flushed red, and you were unable to contain a small giggle — wildly uncharacteristic for you. Luke, to his credit, only had a mildly sheepish grin on his face, and continued to follow you across the dance floor. “Come to the Apollo party with me.” You couldn’t believe him! Here you were, miles from camp and he was still asking you out. Though, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite as infuriating as you originally thought.

“You never give up, do you?” You gave a good natured sigh, ducking under someone’s arm to get to your friends.

“Was that a yes?”

“No.”

“Was it a no?”

“No!” You let out another laugh which floated over the crowd and straight to Luke. He couldn’t contain his own grin.

“I’ll pick you up at 9:30!” He yelled back. You gave no indication of having heard him apart from a momentary glance, and he couldn’t tell if the smile was directed at him or just a byproduct of your situation. He took it either way.

Having gone to the effort of sneaking away from camp, Luke decided to stay for the remainder of the concert and grudgingly decided the band wasn’t that bad. Not his style, sure, but he could kind of see why you liked them. Besides, these drinks were easier to get than the contraband ones he had to smuggle into camp.

Tired from a night on your feet dancing and feeling your pleasant buzz slipping away, you were less than charmed seeing Luke waiting for your bus. It made sense, obviously you were going the same place, but you didn’t want him to ruin your great night by pestering you about a date.

“What are you doing here?” You asked bluntly, eagerly sitting on the misshapen little bench.

“Getting home?” He trailed off, unsure of what you were looking for. “Besides, we’re a long way from camp and it’s late. Didn’t feel right leaving you here alone.” You hated that you thought it was sweet.

“Do you not think I can take care of myself?” You picked a fight instead, unwilling to be genuine with him. Luke wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it.

“I have complete faith in you,” He laughed, “I’m making sure you don’t kill whoever bothers you.” You let out a snort of a laugh accidentally. You tried to recover,

“It’ll be you if you’re not careful.” Somehow Luke didn’t believe you.

Surprisingly, the trip was almost pleasant. Luke had already gotten what he wanted from the night and the next phase of his plan was shaping up, so he knew bringing up your impending date would only sour your mood. Instead, when he plonked himself down in the seat next to you on the bus, you talked about mundane, silly things. He asked about the friends you were with and let you talk about your life in New York, waving you off when you started to feel guilty since he was at camp all year.

“There’s this really cool record store, we go there all the time. They have this huge bulletin board on one wall where these tiny little bands put up posters for random gigs with, like, fifty people there — it’s so sick, like the 90s I guess. Maybe —” You cut yourself off but Luke knew where you were going. Maybe I could show you. You would deny it if he brought it up, but he couldn’t contain his smile either way.

You were surprised that you had so much to talk about, briefly wondering why you’d never been friends with him before, but the conversation continued all the way to the camp border, where you both knew the risk of sneaking back in meant your night together was over. Once you got into camp there’d be people all around; campers should be in bed but counsellors often patrolled for a while, and many of the non-demigod folks around camp could be up and about well into the early hours of the morning.

“So, um, I’ll see you around?” His sudden shyness was unexpectedly charming, and you found yourself giving Luke a smile — a real one that made his heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Bye, Luke.” You held eye contact for a fraction longer than necessary before disappearing into the shadows. Luke watched you go, not quite starstruck but close to it. A rustle of the trees behind him spurred him into action, but the image of you on the dance floor played on repeat behind his eyes as he lay in his bunk.

[ssparksflyy]

Hiii I hope you are having a great day!! I was wondering if you could make another percy jackson x daughter of Hecate reader? If you don’t/ can’t do it that’s fine I just though i would ask.

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: percy jackson x latina!daughter of hecate!reader warning(s): swearin an: dw i got ur 2nd request that u wanted reader to be latina :)) i just added in some little things that tie in ♡♡ srry if these are short btw </3

in the dead of night, your eyes so greennnnnnnn

you and percy tend to stay up later than most of camp

your always up and out after curfew

you js function better at night okay

me asf

the day is reserved for lake dates and the night is reserved for sky watching dates ♡♡

youre literally attached by the hip if you couldnt tell

as they say in waitress, i love you means your never ever getting rid of me ♡

you usually watch from the roof of cabin 3, just cuddled up and sharing a blanket

but once percy suggested you watch from the docks

and you were like oh!

not actually but you looked really hesitant

he was like whats wrong??

so you told him about la llorona !! #coquette

it was so preppy

but now youre both scared to go to the lake at night

even though yk shes not real

and youve literally been through tartarus

and back

and you face unimaginable horrors every day

and percy's literally the son of the sea god

mexican folklore is scary ok yall

idc if it didnt scare you as a kid / you like horror

I DONT

IM TRAUMATIZED

MY GRANDMA PUT ON LA LEYENDA DE LA LLORONA WHEN I WAS FIVE AND I HAVENT KNOWN A DAY OF PEACE SINCE

sorry for trauma dumping yall

kinda silly how some story about a lady who drowned her kids is enough to make 2 of camp half blood's strongest soldiers shake in their boots

so u stick to rooftops ♡

you and hazel are bestiessss

shes a honorary member of cabin 20 of course

you exchange tips and tricks, hazel telling you about the things she saw hecate do and the things she said to her

and you tell her about the things youve picked up over the years :))

percy cant help but smile whenever he sees you two together

he sees hazel as a sister

(yall remember in son when he was ready to fight somebody for her or something like that i dont remember exactly what he said but i do know he was ready to fight)

and ur his fav girl ever ♡

his heart just feels warmed

same way he feels when he sees you playing with estelle

you show her a bit of ur powers and she flips outtttt

she asks sally to be a witch for halloween because "i want to be just like (y/n)!!!"

dont know about yall but if i went home and my family found out i was involved with ~brujeria~ i would not be accepted at home (please read as if youre white and cant say shit in spanish)

thats just the mad religious side talking dont worry yall

but sally and paul would literally let you in with open arms

the jackson's apartment is your second home

percy has a drawer reserved for your clothes in his room ♡♡

he loves it when you sleepover, at home or at camp

he absolutely adores kissing your hands

he doesnt care about the dangers you can produce from them, he'll kiss em allllll he wants

you could be cuddled up together, ur reading to him and he just grabs one of your hands and begins to leave a trail of kisses up your arm, shoulder, neck, cheek, and eventually leaving one on your temple

it just gets you like 😵‍💫

he loves his badass girlfriend, okay?

literally your #1 fan

would beat up anybody who talks shit !!!

tea is your holy ground ♡

because you cant drink coffee

cause ya know, adhd, youll just end up knocking out

though you do drink it when you cant fall asleep at night

its me, hi

and hot chocolate is strickly an only-in-december drink, because then it wont hit in december, since you had it earlier in the year

(my mom does that with gorditas and tamales broooo its painful)

so ya drink tea!

i dont drink tea, so im not even gonna try to tell you what his favorite is

he likes whatever you like

but you try a bunch of different teas and stuff together :)

youd probably adopt a black cat together when youre older

youre never gonna beat your neighbor's witch allegations

(probably because theyre true but youll obviously never say that)

i feel like percy would be more of a dog person but lets be real, he likes horses.

fuckin horse girl smh

but that does not mean he wouldnt love and care for the cat

he'd so let you stop to pet any stray cat you see on the street

takes pictures of the cat anytime you do ♡

you cook together !!

you teach percy a bunch of different recipes and stuff :)

has a 'kiss the cook' apron 100%

and what can ya say, you gotta kiss the cook

man you guys manage to stay silly throughout the horrors, we love

[scar-lie]

DNA Pt. 2 {Scarlett}

Summary : Scarlett finally found out you're her daughter

Pairing : Mom! Scarlett Johansson x Daughter!Reader

Warning : curse word, bad memory, anxiety, cutting, blood

Word count : 2,029

DNA Pt. 1

Cherrylemontober

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

"Oh, that feels good,” Scarlett sighs in relief, relaxing every muscle when one of the employees decides to give her a massage after a long hour of working doing stunts, running, and just a never-ending shoot.

“Tired huh? "Scarlett chuckled when Alice—one of the workers on the project—commented, moving her hands from shoulder up to massage her head.

“Yeah, oh god, that's the spot... That's been aching for days now,” Scarlett whispered, closing her eyes, and Alice chuckled at her behavior and kept massaging her shoulders and head.

“Ok, what exactly are we doing? "RDJ asked, still confused while driving after he picked up Lizzie, and Hugh is on the way to look for you

“It's Y/N, and it's a long story; she just ran away in bad condition.” Lizzie bites her lower lips, worried about you, and RDJ is confused and worried too.

“Why? "He stops at the red light and faces Lizzie, who's been busy contacting you.

“It's... She found out who her biological mother is, and... and I don't know what's going on in her head; she just bolted out, and I’m worried.” Lizzie's hand keeps shaking, and her breathing is getting labored, so RDJ quickly took her phone and held her hand.

"Breath, Lizzie, breath; Y/N’s fine; she wouldn't so such thing.” Robert squeezed her hand, and the light turned green, and he proceeded to drive.

You took a deep breath, still gripping the steering wheel tight. You've been sitting in your car for about 20 minutes now, after your 4-hour drive from the city to the outskirts of another city.

You look at your left side, seeing a simple but big house, enough for 20 to 40 people to fit in, then you look back forward to see a path going forward for another house of your neighbor.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, going out of the car and proceeding to walk to the door of your old house, then stopping at the door to knock three times.

“Mom? "You called out, but after a few minutes, no one is answering, so you assume that your mom went out to get some groceries or something.

So you lower down to get the spare key at the bottom of the third flowerpot, then open the door and come inside to see the place as clean as you expected.

The house was well maintained, no dust, no dirt, no trash, or anything unpleasant. The pictures scattered around the house, some hanging on the wall, some on top of the drawers.

It's all pictures of you, your mom and dad, and your lovely sister, whom you adore and love so much. This house brings so much memory that you can't help but shed a tear just by looking around and touching things.

From the picture of the four of you standing in the side drawer, past the entrance to the trophies, couches, and decorations laying around the house, that brings you to the kitchen when you four are usually having fun making dinner for Sunday night that is full of laughter before everyone goes to do what has to be done the next day.

It eventually leads you to the backyard, where you can see the city up there. Your father built a wooden fence around when your sister was 5 years old, and then he also built a big swing where your mom put comforters and pillows there after 3 months when you were adopted.

You love looking over the city from the backyard, and you always sneak out at night just so you can sit at the ground in awe and watch the city light shine with the stars.

“Here you are, Miss Troublemaker,” your father sat besides you after another night of you sneaking out of your room when they told you to sleep and bit you goodnight.

“You know, you should really sleep now; it's getting late; you still have school tomorrow,” your mom, sat on the other side of you, then pulled you to lean on her and kiss your forehead.

“Sorry again,” they chuckle, knowing you will be doing this again eventually.

“We know, sweetie,” you whisper, then stand up.

“I guess you both plan on staying here for a little while longer. Just go inside before you two get cold, ok? "After your father answers her, ‘Yes, dear, no need to worry. Mom gives us a warning look, then goes back inside.

That night you and your dad stay late at night, you listening to the stories of your dad on how he courts your mom. Your mom eventually goes out again to fetch you both back inside before you two catch a cold, and that being said, you two got a good scolding from her first thung at the morning.

"Idiots,” you chuckle at the memories, not knowing your tears, cunning down your tears.

You sigh, taking off your shoes, putting your bag, key, and phone down to the pavement of your backyard before you set foot on the soft grass and go to the swing to sit and lay back your back at the headboard of the swing and begin to hum the song your family loves.

“I miss you, Dad..I wish you were here,” you whisper, looking down, and you can't take the pain anymore. You sob there, curling to the ball and crying on your knees until you run out. Tears still keep dropping one tear after another, while quiet sobs keep coming out of your mouth.

Not knowing your mom is already home, standing right before your things on the pavement, happy and also sad seeing your shoulder shaking, without any doubt, your mom also took her shoes off and walked towards you.

"Sweetie,” your mom called. You quickly turn to the other way and wipe your tears, making yourself presentable as much as possible.

“What’s the problem? Honey? "Your mom sat down beside you, opening her arms for you to get in and lean on her.

“It's nothing; I just missed Dad, that's all.” Your mom didn't push you but offer a comfort that you know you can trust and lean on to her no matter what.

“Ok...just don't forget me and your sister is here, ok?”She kissed your forehead, cupping your cheeks, and made you look at her.

"Yes, Mom,” you quickly move to embrace the comfort your mom is giving you.

You’ve been out the whole day, not answering the phone calls or texting to anyone. Lizzie and the other were worried sick looking out for you.

It's 9 p.m. when you decide to head back home to your house in the city, and when you open the door, Scarlett is there, walking back and forth.

She's been worried for hours now. When the news reaches her, Lizzie doesn't have a choice but to contact Scar and ask her about the places where you could go, and that's when Scar knows that you run away.

“Y/N gosh, we were worried sick for you; where have you been?"Scarlett quickly enveloped you in her arms, but you quickly but gently got out of her

“I wanted to be alone. Please leave.” You open your front door, but Scarlett didn't move an inch.

“Y/N? "Scarlett whisper, she can read your expression and body language well, and she knows that you want space but not wanting to leave you all alone.

“What's the problem? "She tried to reach out, but you moved and opened the door more for her to get out.

“Leave me alone,” you said with so much hatred.

The more you look at her, the more your patience gets thin, and the more angry you are, you can't accept the fact that she's the person who gave birth to you and who threw you in that stupid orphanage.

And the more you hear her voice, the more your memory comes rushing back bit by bit, where you try to leave it to the back of your mind and you hate her for it.

“LEAVE NOW, DAMMIT! "You scream, not wanting to be near her anymore.

"Y/N, I'm here; you can tell me everything." Your blood boils, and you explode right there and then.

"You wanna know, huh? Ok...you wanna know how fucking bad of a mother you are, leaving your child to a shitty orphanage who makes them work and gives them a good beating when they didn't do things right or they didn't have money to give to the orphan keeper...and I fucking hate you for that." Scarlett's eyes were wide open, because her secret is out but also confused.

"How...how do you know about my daughter?" You quickly cut her off and pushed her a little.

"Cause that child you abandoned is me. You fucking left me with that monster. I have to survive in order to llive, and you... you're in your fucking mansion, drinking wine, having delicious meals,s, and living your best life while I try to survi." You push the DNA paper on her chest and clench your jaw..

So fucking leave before I drag you out of here." You drip the door handle to control yourself and not just grab her and get her out of here.

"I-I……ok,” Scarlett is speechless, and she has tears in her eyes. She wanted to explain, but she chose to leave with a heavy heart, not knowing what to do or how to approach you.

Once she's out, you quickly lock every door and window and head up to your room and lock yourself in the bathroom.

Your heart is beating loudly; you can hear it on your head; every beat brings back memories of how the paddle sounds when it hits your skin.

Every little noise coming outside sounds like how many times you and the other run away when you all hear the madam coming home.

Every scream, every cry, every shout, every pleading—you can hear it all like it's happening, and your chest starting to hurt—that makes you sit down and lean your back on the wall, clutching your chest.

You look around in hopes of distraction, but your eyes land on the razor blades you use this morning to shave.

Your mind says no, but your body has a different approach; it quickly grabs it, taking your shirt off and starting to cut your hips.

The blade kissing your tender skin, puncturing the flesh and drawing blood, and you sigh in relief, one cut after another; some are deep, some were superficial wounds. The only thing that makes you stop is when you look up at the mirror, seeing yourself.

“What have I done? ”You drop the blade;your eyes lock on the blood on your hips and hands.

“Oh god,” you shed tears over what you've done. You've been 6 years clean, and you promise your dad that you will stay clean before he dies.

And you curse yourself for doing this to yourself without thinking it, but it also makes you feel safe and alive at the same time.

You got interrupted when your phone rang and Lizzie's name flashed on your screen, so you cleared your throat and answered her call, knowing she's worried too.

*LIZZIE*

Hey-

Where have you been, huh? We’ve been going around thecity to look after you

Sorry that I worry you all. I go to Mom to clear my head

It's fine; just don't do it again, ok? Yeah

How are you? Are you okay?

Yeah, just shocked and sad and hurt. I'm fine, Liz.

I’m not convinced; I’m going there

You don't have to; I swear I’m fine, and I want to be alone.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I’m sure, just tell everyone, I’m fine and I’m sorry for making them worry.

They'll understand. Just call me when you need someone ok? I’ll be right there.

Yeah, thanks, Liz.

After saying your goodbye, you hung up and winced when you started to move to go to the

How to wash yourself, and it stings more when the water runs down to your wounds.

“I’ll be fine.” You keep chanting it until you're ready to sleep.

[gather-ye-fucking-rosebuds]

”You killed your father?” Although Todd knew he had said it, the words sounded like they came from down a long, empty hallway.

Neil flinched. “I don’t…I don’t know what came over me—I just had the gun, then I—”

“You shot him?” Todd hissed.

“Well, what else?” Neil snapped, tears filling his eyes again. “Does it even matter? I killed him. My father is dead because of me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” He swallowed and stood up, beginning to pace the floor.

Todd’s mouth was dry, his face pale. “Wh-where’s your mom throughout all this?”

Neil stopped walking. “Mom,” he breathed. “She…she said…” He started swaying.

“Woah, Neil,” Todd said, standing up and helping him sit on the edge of the bed. “What did she say?”

Neil looked at Todd. His face was ghostly white. “I have to go back,” he breathed. “She can’t take the heat for this.”

“She’s gonna take the blame?” Todd clarified. It was more of a statement than a question.

Neil nodded, then shook his head. His voice sounded weak. “No, no, no, I-I can’t let her. It’ll ruin her life. I can’t do that to her.” He started to get up.

“Neil, sit down,” Todd said gently, putting his hands on Neil’s shoulders. Todd didn’t know what to do. Neil obviously didn’t either. “So… so you killed your father.”

Neil flinched, but Todd didn’t notice.

“You shot him. But your mom is going to say that it was her.”

“Yeah,” Neil choked, staring at his red covered hands. He looked so hopeless, like he genuinely regretted what he did, and Todd’s mind flashed back to earlier that night, when he had stated in front of all the other poets that if he ever saw Mr Perry again he’d kill him. What if that had been the exact moment Neil had shot him? What a crazy twist of fate that would be.

A tear streaked down Neil’s cheek. He was terrified. Terrified of his father, of his future, but, most of all, of himself. Todd never would have believed his saintly roommate could ever kill someone, but Neil himself probably believed that too. That he could never actively take the life of another human being, especially his own father. Neil was terrified. So Todd needed to be brave.

“Hang tight,” Todd whispered, bustling over to his desk. He opened the bottom drawer and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for: a small jar full of cash. He dumped it out on his desk and started counting it out. $59.80. Todd chuckled at the irony.

“What are you doing?” Neil asked as Todd got his coat out of the closet and shoved the money in the inner pocket.

Todd grabbed his sweater and tucked it under his arm. “We’re leaving.”

“Leaving,” Neil repeated, still confused.

“Yeah. Leaving. Running away. Getting the hell out of here before the cops realize that your mom didn’t actually kill your dad. Because they will eventually.”

“But…but where…”

“My grandparents have a lake house not too far from here that they never use. We can camp out there until we think of a better plan.” Neil swallowed hard again, looking back at his hands. Todd grabbed them, getting blood on his hands, too. “Come on,” he whispered.

Neil looked into Todd’s eyes, and a slight smile pulled at Neil’s lips. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

[kwinsispn3]

Charms

summary: through the years — the Winchester’s little sister’s good luck charm, ends up being a bit of a tradition.

Word Count: 4,214

Winchester boys x sister!reader

Warnings: blood, death, angst, sorry about the italics, idk what I'm doing??

The youngest Winchester, y/n, was welcomed into the family a little bit later than expected. Y/n was 3 when her mom died, and had no one else to go to but her father and two brothers. It was a few years after John had died too, when Dean got a call from one of John’s old phones in the glove compartment. And there she’s was on the other line.

It had been a few months after y/n had been living with the boys. It was tricky for everyone to adjust. Sam and Dean would do anything for her at the drop of a hat, but they all found it difficult to connect at first. Y/n was struggling to feel like a part of the family. She had lost the only adults she knew about in her short life, her trust had been taken away from everything it felt like. Sam and Dean had treated her nothing but kind since the day they found her, and deep down she knew they wouldn’t hurt her, but time would tell.

It was late at night, Dean couldn’t sleep. Going to reach for his headphones, they weren’t in the side table drawer where he normally puts them. He arose, flipping on the desk lamp across the room, starting to look for them quietly, when he came across a box. The box where he always kept special things he couldn’t lose. Photographs of him and Sammy as kids, their mother, different trinkets that held a memory. Dean flipped through a few photos, admiring them sadly under the light of his lamp. Looking down into the box he saw a glaring piece of silver at the bottom. Picking it up, he gazed at the charm bracelet that belonged to his mother. The charms shined in the light as they swayed side to side.

Sam approached the desk in the motel, about to speak as he sees him, but stops. “Hey, uhh. You busy?” He asked stepping closer.

“No, just couldn’t really sleep” Dean says as he packs the things back in the box.

“What’s this, is this mom’s?” Sam asked, sliding the bracelet over to his grasp.

“Yup.”

~

It was y/n’s 10th birthday and it had been a rough year. Another new school, y/n wasn’t staying with Bobby as much anymore since she was older and could stand the long car rides with Sam & Dean. Girls were starting to be mean at school, y/n felt alone most of the time, because she was left alone. In school, and back at the motels they stayed at. The boys felt for her, being so young, constantly exposed to the childhood they had. They didn’t expect that they would ever being doing what they were doing, but they wouldn’t give up on trying to give their little sister the life she needed.

The brothers made it home from finishing up a hunt just in time for y/n’s birthday. They had brought home her favorite food, and desserts. It wasn’t much, but they wanted to show her some appreciation for all of her patience. After finishing up dinner, Sam started to clean up the table. “Alright, looks like it is almost your bedtime.”

“Really? Even on my birthday?” Y/n playfully pouted.

“Your beauty sleep is more important!” Sam smiled back. “Especially being a weeknight. But we will pick up the festivities this weekend, because we’re leaving town!” Sam blurted out without thinking about how that sounded.

Dean looked at him and back at y/n, knowing her reaction wouldn’t be excited. Sam realized he had messed up by saying it so soon, they had meant to break it to her the next day, after her birthday.

“You mean, I have to leave this school, and go to another one?!” She sighed in disappointment.

“Well, yeah. But… we can go wherever you’d like to, on the way to—“

“No, you both said we’d be here for a while.”

“Y/n—“

“Just stop!" The room fell silent. "I know this is what you guys do, but I hate having to move again and again."

"Look, I know you do. It isn't fun for us either, but that's how we.."

"Get our job done, I know Sam." y/n finished his sentence, looking down at her hands.

"What's wrong, y/n/n?" Sam asked, studying her face.

"I just told you." her voice got more quiet. "You sure? You just... look like somethings on your mind." Sam stated. There was a long pause, y/n shuffled around and then looked up at her brothers. They both had that look on their face like they were waiting for her to let out whatever she was thinking.

"How do you guys always know!!?" She threw her arms down in frustration. Trying to stay mad but also wanting to break down from all of the inner turmoil. The boys both half smiled, Sam sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, motioning for y/n to sit down.

"It just gets scary sometimes..... not knowing when you're gonna come back. Boring too. I just don't want you to forget about me." y/n let out a deep breath.

"Sweetheart, you know we'd never forget about you. We look forward to coming back to you after every job." Sam reassured. Y/n let out a half smile, hearing the same line before. "I know."

It was times like these where Dean would always think of his mother. Even though y/n wasn't his mothers daughter, he knew if she were still around, she'd know exactly what to say in moments like these. The two boys were almost left with a loss of words until Dean thought of the perfect thing. He stood up and went outside to the car, rummaging through the trunk. He came back inside with a box in his hands. Going through it, he picked up Mary's bracelet and sat down next to y/n.

"This was... our mom's. I think she would have wanted you to have it." Dean hooked the charm bracelet around y/n's wrist. It felt a little odd to her, knowing Mary was not her real mom.

"Are you sure? I mean, she..." y/n tried not to come off sounding rude, but Dean knew what she was trying to say.

"I know, but trust me. We hung onto it for a reason. All of these charms mean something special, and as long as you have this with you... you will always be protected. And you will always, be apart of this family." Dean held her wrist, emphasizing it's importance. Y/n rotated her wrist, admiring all of the charms.

She smiled bigger, looking up at them. "Thank you."

Dean said nothing, instead bringing his sister in for a hug. Sam raised his eyebrows, blinking away his watery eyes from the moment he just witnessed. Running his hands over his face, he sat down, and embrace his siblings into one.

~

It was y/n's first official hunt. She had just turned 14, and had proven to her brothers that she could take care of herself... as long as she stayed right by their sides. Y/n had been studying, not just in school. Every chance she got, she was prying information from Sam or Dean about hunting. Practicing how to use different forms of defense, and being on the look out for anything. She now had finally gotten herself into the real deal.

The three of them walked through an abandoned farm property, looking for any hidden rooms, since the rest of the house was suspiciously clear. "We should go check the barn out back." Y/n whispered. "Okay, but for now, you stay here." Dean whispered back.

"Why? there's nothing here. We've looked everywhere and there is no nest." y/n stated.

"Well, that's what they want you to think, but it wasn't at the last house so it's gotta be here."

"Shhh!" Sam spat. Hearing a crash from somewhere in the house.

Everyone froze, being as still and quiet as they could, trying to listen for any noises. It was silent, until a floorboard creaked from behind Dean. He jumped around, but before he could strike, everyone was knocked unconscious. None of them got a chance to see what hit them as it was too dark.

Y/n woke up in a cold and dark room. The floor was cement, and the walls were stone, it was likely a basement room. Shortly after coming to, she heard the ceiling above her creak and the walls too. Footsteps thudded on the floor outside of the room she was in, and she heard the ceiling creak once more. Y/n panicked, and resumed her position on the floor where she woke up, pretending to still be knocked out.

The door flung open, she squinted her eyes the most she could while trying to look asleep. A dark figure walked over to her, she could see another figure behind him, holding the door open. She was suddenly lifted off the floor, her body limp and hanging in the grip of whoever was holding her.

"Nope, still out. Let's give it another hour." A deep voice spoke. They let go of y/n's body, letting it thud back to the floor. The two figures left. Y/n sat up slowly, feeling the ache from being thrown onto cement. 'A ladder?' She thought, seeing one against the wall outside the door. One set of footsteps walked away, another set sounded like they were climbing the ladder, as the wall creaked again.

Y/n listened closely to the creaks and heard the ceiling again, 'a trapdoor!' It had to be. It sounded like it was just above the door to the room she was in. After listening for a while, it grew quiet again. Y/n got up and tried opening the door, no luck. It was locked. Y/n knew she had to alert her brothers somehow, wherever they were. For all she knew, they could be in another locked room themselves.

Sam and Dean both woke up in the barn that was behind the house. Dean sat up abruptly in the hay, looking around for y/n once he spotted Sam. "Y/N!!"

"She's gotta be somewhere in that house. C'mon!" Sam hurried.

The two men walked through out the house again, pacing every room back and forth, looking for anything they could have missed. "Dude, I can't find any levers, or buttons... no hidden doors. Fuckin squat!" Dean was starting to get worried and pissed, not knowing how long they were out and how long y/n had been separated.

Sam, stepped on something uneven. Raising his foot, he looked at the dark floor and saw a bit of silver shining in the moonlight. He picked up the object, which happened to be y/n's charm bracelet.

Dean looked at Sam holding up the charms, stunned to say the least. "That ain't good, we need to find her, quick." Dean started, rushing past Sam, ready to look wherever he had to.

"Wait! Dean look...." Sam kneeled down, taking in the details of the floor they had completely missed. They had been walking all over it this whole time. "Dean, it's a trap door!"

They both kneeled down and found a flat switched embedded in one of the floorboards. Sam pressed the switch, a square in the floor creaked open, revealing a hidden basement. "Let's go."

Sam and Dean came across a long hallway, that went in two directions. Both sides of the walls had doors to other rooms. "She's gotta be down here." Sam whispered.

"That probably means the nest is also down here." Dean huffed with worry.

The two split up to start checking the rooms. Dean started with the door next to the ladder that led them down there. He busted it open to find y/n sitting on the floor. "Y/N! Thank god, are you okay?" Dean sighed in relief.

"I'm fine.... did you find my clue?" she asked hopefully.

"Your clue??"

"Yeah, I slid my charm bracelet through the floor."

"You did that? How... what..... I'd love to hear how you came up with that later, because I think you led us right to the vamp nest." Dean smiled proudly.

~

It had been 5 long days since y/n went missing. Of course, Sam and Dean hadn't stopped for anything until they found her. They had not slept, barely ate, there was no breaks, no stopping. They had grown tired after searching almost every lead they had.

The two sat at the table in their motel room in silence, too irritated and exhausted to say anything unless it was important. "I'll be back." Dean stood up, grabbing his jacket.

"Where ya going?" Sam asked.

"To look for y/n".

Sam sighed. Dean always blamed himself if Sam or y/n were in trouble. No matter the situation.

Dean pulled up to the school where the first kid went missing. Putting the car in park, he got out and walked around the campus, trying his best not to look suspicious. School was still in session despite the mysterious disappearances, which made it hard to investigate. Y/n was a big help in the case, being able to blend in as a student, until she went missing too. Sam and Dean had checked all the surrounding places that had a connection, yet, nothing.

Dean circled the courtyard, eyeing the buildings, trying to think of literally anything, when he remembered... The old building behind the school. The one that wasn't in use anymore, they were planning to knock it down soon. It made so much sense now, they were hiding in plain sight. He picked up his phone to dial Sam, letting him know to meet him over there as he picked up the pace on his way over to the building.

Dean scanned the area around him, making sure no one was looking before approaching the front steps. The front doors were boarded shut, he tried to make them give but had no luck. He circled the building to the back door when he noticed a shine catching his eye.

Y/n's charm bracelet sat in the dirt and gravel near the back door. He picked it up with care, and put it in his pocket. Dean was able to get in the building, it was full of mold and broken down old school supplies. He walked down endless hallways, looking through every door until he found y/n. Handcuffed to an old radiator on the ground. Rushing over, he shook her gently, trying to wake her up.

"Dean!" Sam called out from a distance. He stood up and poked his head around the hallway. "Hey! Did you find her?" Sam asked frantically.

"Yeah, I got her. Help me find some of the other kids." He said as he rushed back to y/n. Her head and arms had dried up blood all over them, and looked as if she was dragged through dirt.

"Y/n, c'mon sweetheart, wake up." she slowly nodded, with fluttering eyes, becoming more alert once she saw Dean.

"oh my god, Dean!" She spoke softly, reaching out for him but was stopped by the cuffs. "One sec, I got it." He assured.

Once she was free, she gently wrapped her arms around him. "You found me.... I was worried you wouldn't." Her eyes welled with tears.

Dean held her shoulders and reached into his pocket. "Baby, I will always find you." He said as he hooked her bracelet back onto her wrist. She sniffled a heartwarming smile back at him.

~

Sam and Dean stood in front of y/n, and also y/n. The 3 of them were hunting a shifter, and it had taken y/n's form. Now it was down to which y/n was the real y/n.

"Guys. c'mon it's me! Trust me." y/n whined.

"Stop! No, I'm me. I know it's hard to tell right now but it's really me!" y/n also whined.

"Here...." y/n slowly kneeled down and placed her gun on the ground. The other y/n still clutched her gun tightly. A determined look set in her eyes.

"I wouldn't hurt you guys. You know that." she stood up slowly without the weapon.

Sam and Dean gazed between the two versions of their sister. "I'm not sure you can keep that promise." Sam spat. Y/n lunged at Sam as he pulled the trigger. She fell to the ground, all 3 of them stood frozen for a second before seeing the body start to melt. They all let out a heavy breath.

"Thank you, for not shooting me." y/n snickered, lowering her gun. "How'd you know?"

Sam reached for her wrist. "Guess it wasn't able to replicate your good luck charm." He smiled at the charms on her bracelet.

~

It happened so fast. None of them saw the last one that hid behind the corner. A shot rang out, the bullet snuck past Sam who held his gun up. He fired his weapon, taking out the last guy. He let out a greedy breath, looking over at Dean who gave him the same relieved look.

"Nice one, brother." He patted his shoulder. "You too y/n." Dean and Sam looked behind them, only to jump when they saw y/n clutching her stomach hunched over.

"Y/n!? You okay? Lemme see...... umm, okay c'mon. We gotta go." Dean said frantically after seeing all the blood soaking through her shirt. He lifted her up, carrying her to the car and placing her in the backseat.

"Hang on, y/n." Dean kept calling out from the drivers seat, while Sam reached back, holding onto what ever grip she had on him.

"Sammy..... I can't...." Y/n sounded breathy. Holding her palm over her wound.

"Yes you can, just hold on a little longer for me, okay?" Sam hoped his words would help motivate his sister to find strength. They couldn't lose her, not like this.

Dean peeled into the emergency room lot, barely parking the car. The two men jumped out of the car, rushing to the backseat. When they opened the door, y/n was slumped over on her side, unresponsive.

"Y/n, c'mon wake up, look at me." Dean patted her face, holding her in his arms. Nothing.

As they carried her through the doors, it felt like a blank blur of people bombarding them, saying words. Dean froze as Sam called out for help, telling the nurses what happened. Then he felt people tugging y/n away from him. As they started to wheel her back, Dean grasped her hand.

"Sir, please let go, we need to get her medical attention."

Normally, he would've fought to stay with her, but he froze again. Letting go of her hand which then flopped to the side of her.

Sam and Dean waited an excruciatingly long 3 hours before someone came asking for them. A doctor came out and ushered them through the doors.

"Is she okay? What's the deal?" Dean asked impatiently. All the doctor said was 'come with me' so they assumed he was taking them to her. He remained quiet and led them down the hall, motioning them to step into a room. Once they both saw it was an office, they expected the worst.

"Please, have a seat."

"Doc, not trying to be rude, but I've been sitting for 3 hours. I'd rather not wait any longer. How's our sister?" Dean said straight to the point.

The doctor took a deep breath, folding his hands. "Y/n suffered some really bad hemorrhaging from the bullet wound. Once we removed the bullet, we couldn't stop the bleeding...... she stopped breathing a little while before that."

"I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."

Neither of the boys took it well, especially Dean. He refused to believe anything after that, he kept saying 'no' to everything the doctor said.

"Um... is there any way we could still see her? y'know, say our goodbyes." Sam hesitantly glanced at Dean.

"Yes, of course. Give us some time to prepare her. In the meantime, I would start discussing arrangements for-"

As soon as Dean heard that, he turned around and walked out.

Sam stayed and waited until he was able to see y/n. The nurse left to give him his privacy. As soon as he saw her, he broke. Slowly walking over to the bed with tears blurring his vision, he kneeled down and picked up her frail hand. He cringed at the fact that it was still warm, but that warmth was fading. Sam eyed her charm bracelet that was still on. He pinched the charms between his fingers, rotating it around.

"I'm sorry..... I'm sorry we couldn't...." Sam trailed off. Wiping away his tears, he looked at his sister for a while. Taking in her features, trying to permanently memorize what she looked like when she smiled, laughed, looked at her brothers with her big y/e/c eyes.

"I love you."

~

Dean had stormed out of the hospital. He felt like raging against all evil that had ever existed, so upset he could flip a car. He had always imagined he'd go like this, but not his little sister. Only 20 years old, and it was all taken away from her, from him, from them. Dean didn't know what to do or where to go, so much was going through his mind. He opened baby's driver door and sat inside, letting the silence consume the vehicle for a few moments before speaking up.

"Cas..... we could really use you right now."

.....

"Y/n is dead. And... she shouldn't be. I know it's a lot to ask, but this is y/n we're talking about."

.....

"Cas...?" Dean sat a while longer, waiting, waiting for Cas, or a sign. Anything.

"Please, Cas. I'll do whatever I have to, I'll sell my soul, I'll make a trade. I don't know, anything."

Still, nothing. No response. Nothing.

Sam walked outside to the car since Dean wasn't answering the phone. He saw him sitting in the car and slowly opened the passenger door, getting in next to him.

Neither of them said anything at first.

"Uh, she's in there, whenever you're ready." Sam tried to hide his sniffles. Dean stayed quiet.

"This isn't the end." He finally spoke up.

"What?"

"She's not dead for good."

"Dean, we can't make another deal like that, if that's what you're thinking. It just leads us into more problems."

"Sam, this is y/n! I don't give shit what I have to do."

Sam stopped there, he knew it wasn't a good time to reason with Dean. He needed to give it time.

"Here." Sam held out his hand. He placed the object in Dean's hand. Dean opened his palm, now holding y/n's charm bracelet.

"What are you doing?!" Dean raised his tone, agitated.

"What do you mean? I-"

"Why did you take this off of her!?" Dean growled.

Before Sam could say anything else, Dean opened the door and stormed back into the hospital. Sam followed, delaying himself a little bit to give Dean some space. He was hoping this would give him some time for closure.

Dean's anger led him into y/n's room a little fast. He slowed his vigorous pace when he saw her. He slowly approach the bedside and sat next to her, gently hooking the charms around her wrist once more. A tear escaped his waterline when he looked up at her, not receiving the smile she always gave him. He squeezed her hand in his, lowering his head with the gesture. Dean sat there for a while in thought, when her hand started to feel different. Almost as if it was less limp. He squeezed it some more subconsciously, but this time felt her hand clench underneath his. He shot up, looking at y/n confused.

"y/n?" Her chest rose up and fell heavily as her body took a breath. "Y/n!?"

Sam overheard and peeked in. "Dean, wha-."

"Get the doctor, now!" He flipped his head around. Sam nodded and ran out confused.

Y/n's chest was now rising and falling in a rhythm, Dean kept saying her name and sweet things. Then her eyes slowly opened.

"y/n!" Dean let out an overjoyed cry. "Oh! sweetheart...."

"help... owh." y/n managed to wheeze out, trying to catch her breath.

"Dean.." she caught a gaze of him. He smiled and fixed her stray hairs on her forehead. "It hurts t-t much." she breathed out, then doctors flooded into the room with Sam close behind.

"Y/n!!?" Sam breathed out as he caught sight of her.... alive.

The doctors started giving her oxygen, medicine and checked her vitals. Dean backed up to give them space to work. "Dean! no.." y/n mumbled.

"It's okay, I'm right here! I'm not going anywhere."

Sam pulled him aside. "Dean! What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear! She... she was gone when I came in, and then..."

"Cas."

"So, Cas did this?"

Dean nodded, looking back at y/n.

All the commotion died down, y/n was stable. The doctors were confused as hell, but ruled it out as a medical miracle, and were pleased to inform Sam and Dean that she'd be alright.

"So, who do I thank?" y/n asked.

"Cas." Dean smiled.

"Glad to have you back, kid." Sam grinned.

"Me too.... gotta love my good luck charm!" she smiled, jingling her bracelet around.

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (13)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 5k

← Previous Chapter (12) | Next Chapter (14) →

Baggage Chapter List

*****

With no money in the bank or dignity to uphold his principles, Jungkook's response to a threat was always flight. He'd long understood that a peasant like him had no chance of fighting.  However, the possibility of you and Soobin getting hurt because of his cowardice sparked something inside him.

Jungkook didn't know how, but he resolutely grabbed Lee Sung's knife with his bare hand, ignoring his trembling hand and his mind telling him to run.

"Now, now, Lee Sung-ah ~" Jungkook's body twisted until he faced the loan shark. His demeanor showed how he stubbornly refused to bend in the face of intimidation. It made Lee Sung's lips curve upwards.

"Not crying for mercy, Jungkook-ah?" A mocking laugh. Lee Sung watched as fresh blood trickled down Jungkook's hand. Jungkook didn't let go of the knife and even gripped its blade more forcefully. "Did hanging out with the feisty professor make you feel invincible?"

The mention of you was enough for Jungkook to lose his playful smirk, bare his teeth at Lee Sung, and snarl. One would think he was a helpless prey (and Jungkook guessed there was some truth to that), but the case changed when his enemies dared to involve you. Besides, Lee Sung had met Jungkook when he had nothing with him. Lee Sung never knew how Jungkook's mind worked and how he dealt with things when no Park Jimin was keeping him in check.

"Easy there, Lee Sung-ah~" Mirth crinkled in Jungkook's eyes. "Our game is for us alone, remember?"

How could Lee Sung not read the real meaning in Jungkook's voice wrapped in an almost syrupy charm? It was a threat, but Lee Sung couldn't help but chuckle. 'Jang Min-ssi,' Lee Sung whispered inwardly as his eyes darted to Jang Min standing meters away from them. "I understand now why you want to involve the professor in this game.'

"I'm so glad you mentioned our little game." Lee Sung blinked his gaze back to Jungkook. He forcefully retracted the knife, leaving a nasty straight cut in Jungkook's palm. Jungkook's face became unreadable, though. He couldn't feel pain—he only felt his heart chastising him to fight for you and his son.

"Because we want you back in our chess game, Jungkook-ah." Lee Sung's smirk grew big. "Jang Min-ssi said he needs you to play the king again."

Jungkook's eyes darkened. Meanwhile, a dangerous smile tugged at Lee Sung's lips as he raised his hand in the air, a small vial gripping his fist.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

You got home at around midnight. You weren’t in the mood to do anything anymore, but the guilt you nursed was becoming too much to bear.

"Mama will help you change your clothes, oki?" You picked up a pajama set from your son's drawer and helped him dress up. You usually soaked Soobin into a warm bath before going to bed. Unfortunately, you weren’t up for it tonight.

'I'm a bad mom,' your mind supplied unhelpfully. You felt as though you didn't deserve Soobin. You thought you had slowly forgotten how to care for your son as Jungkook did it on your behalf. 

Months of playing house with your bastard of best friend lifted half of your burden, but now that Jungkook wasn't around, you were starting to feel helpless.

Just where is that bastard?

Your eyes flicked to the wall clock. This was the first time Jungkook was home late. He didn't even tell you where he was going; he left early in the morning and excused himself for today's office work.

There was no point in stopping Jungkook. Admittedly, you were tiptoeing around him as you didn't want to pressure him into accepting the offer to work with you.

Tonight was the night Jungkook was meant to give his answer. However, You supposed that even a meticulous person like you sometimes went through some lapses.

"You've got your dates mixed up, Mam."  Lee Sung told you earlier this day. You went ahead to the office even without Jungkook. You went there with your son, though. You hoped Lee Sung could babysit Soobin while you went to dinner with Jungkook later.

Although you had reservations about Lee Sung, you couldn't deny that he was still a good babysitter, and Soobin seemed to like him. Your son never fussed and would sleep calmly in Lee Sung's arms.

It had been weeks since Lee Sung landed in Korea, but you refused to contact him. It felt weird being around him while Jang Min was thousands of miles away. You were not one to overthink, though you suspected that your boyfriend's assistant kept you under a hawk-like gaze and was reluctant to follow your requests unless Jang Min explicitly told him to oblige.

Today was one of the times when Lee Sung had explicit orders from his boss.

"Your dinner date with Jungkook-ssi is tomorrow. You're scheduled to meet up with the boss tonight."

"What?" You rubbed your ear as if that would help you understand what Lee Sung had just said.

Your boyfriend's assistant smirked. "Surprise! Boss Jang Min is back in Korea! He wants to see you first. He said there was no need for me to babysit Soobin-ah. He is very much welcome to join your date."

You should be over the moon. Your boyfriend, who you hadn't seen in months, was finally here. Regrettably, your mind was occupied with something else.

"But Jungkook..." You trailed off. You were sure you set up your date tonight. You even made a calendar invite about it so you wouldn't forget.

You were about to check your calendar, but Lee Sung folded down your laptop--an abrupt move that almost pinched your hands lingering on the keypad.

"Oops. Apologies, Mam~." Lee Sung sing-songed. "I've personally checked your schedule for this week. I have synced your calendar into mine for so long. Do you still doubt me, hmm?"

The pitiful look made Lee Sung look like a clown.  You visibly cringed; the thought of your dinner date with Jungkook vanished because of it.

"Okay, fine." You scowled. "I'm bringing Soobin to my date. Where and when should I meet Min-ah?"

"Wanna pick him up at the airport first?"

For some reason, You really didn't. But how could you do that to your lover? Ultimately, you agreed and spent hours on the road and waiting at the airport. You thought your uneasiness would clear once you came face to face with Jang Min. Surprisingly, you were still plagued by jitters.

"Hi." Jang Min kissed you on the mouth. He whispered a few sweet nothings to you before turning to look at Soobin, "Little one, I've something for you."

It was a Hot Wheels Elite 1:18 Scale Ferrari F40. Your eyes twitched. You looked at your boyfriend uncomfortably, "This is expensive. You shouldn't have."

It was wrong to say that to someone who had just given your son a gift. You knew as much. You were about to retract your statement when Jang Min shrugged.

"It's a simple gift, Cолнышко мо. You shouldn't habitually give those discount-store wonders for Soobin. It’s disgusting."

You were taken aback, and despite Soobin not understanding what Jang Min meant, you still wanted to cover your son's ears so he couldn't hear such a mean statement.

"Price doesn't matter to me, Min-ah." Your jaw tensed, your chin jutting.

Jungkook had some free time a few days ago and arranged a scavenger hunt for Soobin. You found it cute, prompting you to take videos and tell Jang Min all about the activity.

You had to admit that it was a cheap game. Jungkook spent 6,600 KRW on rewards he planned to give Soobin during the hunt. His grand prize was the most affordable brand of strawberry pudding, but your son thoroughly enjoyed it.

The game was a success. It honed Soobin's observation skills and exposed him to more physical activities. You participated in the game, too. Jungkook encouraged you with a teasing tone by saying, "Of course, you are welcome to join! You have the temper of a three-year-old. Ow! Don't hit me, such a meanie!"

"Don’t call me that, you piece of shit!" You snarled and hit Jungkook when Soobin wasn't looking.

Jungkook pouted.

"But you are mean, and you snarl like a wolf. Wolf has a good sense of smell; you can teach our pup how to hunt."

It was a feat to ignore your fluttering heart after that. ‘Our pup,’ Jungkook said. You couldn't control your emotions, so you gingerly shut your mouth and faked a hiss before turning to Soobin to brief him on how to play the game.

Overall, it was a fun experience. You won a prize because Jungkook hid an I.D. lace you were meant to find in the bushes. It had a simple design which you loved.

You have been going to your office these past days. The new lace helped because now you wouldn’t struggle to clip your I.D. on your clothes.

"Your old I.D pin is tacky. The new lace will make you a little less uncool."

"Shut the fuck up, bastard," You hissed.

Your playful banter continued, and you appreciated simple moments like this. You made up your mind not to let a mean comment from Jang Min get on your nerves.

Thankfully, Jang Min shrugged his shoulders, too jet-lagged to argue with you. You pushed through with your dinner date, though.

It was in a fancy restaurant Lee Sung had arranged. Soobin set aside his new car toy in favor of running around the place. You were in a private room, so no prying eyes darted on Soobin.

Unfortunately, you couldn't hear what Jang Min was discussing because of how loud Soobin was.

Gone were the days he sat still. Even Jang Min noticed this.

"Why'd he become so hyper suddenly?"

Your shoulder deflated. "I don't know."

It was the truth. You refused to say that the change started when Jungkook started babysitting Soobin, but Jang Min knew about it anyway.

"He's having too much fun with Jungkook-ssi, I supposed." Jang Min propped his chin on his palm as he called Soobin.

The child went near Jang Min at once. He batted his eyelashes at your boyfriend, earning a soft smile from Jang Min.

"Sleep?" Soobin asked obediently while Jang Min caressed his cheeks.

"Later, little one. You can play. Just don't be naughty."

Your heart softened at the sight. Jang Min and your son really did get along. However, you couldn't ignore the uncomfortable feeling in your chest:

You appreciated your boyfriend bonding with Soobin, but that's all to it. You found that you couldn't feel anything for Jang Min aside from gratefulness for trusting and caring for you and Soobin all this time.

"Min-ah." You muttered softly.

Jang Min told Soobin to play with Lee Sung before he turned to look at you. Your eyes looked as deep as the sea. Jang Min wanted to sail through it.

"What is it, Cолнышко мо?" Jang Min held your hand.

Months passed since you last touched him. You used to feel warm whenever your boyfriend's touch lingered on your skin. But now, there was nothing but coldness.

Jang Min's hands were damn cold. You tried to remember if it had always been like this. You didn't flinch now that Jang Min grabbed your hand, giving you a sense of familiarity that the coldness you felt was nothing new.

It was as if this winter feeling had been going on forever, and you simply thought that the cold water was warm since you had just gotten inside your home after being out in the snow.

"Cолнышко мо?”

You snapped your head up and met Jang Min's eyes. They're not chestnut brown—it didn't feel warm.

He wasn't Jungkook.

"Jang Min-ssi," Your chest heaved. You called your boyfriend's name with ragged breath.

Silence lapsed between you. Jang Min's white ushanka froze your heart more.

"I think we should break up."

It was said so suddenly. You gave no preamble, the paradoxical undressing phenomenon kicking inside you. It was your last straw before your feelings for Jang Min succumbed to hypothermia.

There was just no fire left to ignite your heart.

But Jang Min still held a match.

"You've had a long day, Cолнышко мо." The Russian man let go of your hand to signal the server to mind your bill, and then he casually wiped his mouth with a towel before indulgently looking back at you.

It's like Jang Min didn't hear or mind what you said.

"Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow. I only got home, too." He even made an excuse to shoot you down.

"No." But you couldn't wait anymore. You knew you were cruel, but every layer of your clothes begged to be shed. You were seconds away from dying out of the cold. "We—I have been postponing every serious conversation with you. I—"

You licked your lips and swallowed audibly, yet it wasn't enough to relieve your dry and aching throat.

You picked up your glass of wine and drank it in one go.

You looked at Jang Min guiltily.

"I can't anymore, Jang Min. I just..."

No silence or sugarcoating would lessen the abrupt guilt coating your heart.

You ripped off your last layer of winter clothes.

"I don't think I love you like that anymore." Or if I love(d) you at all.

Breaking the news of wanting to end your relationship was sudden, but the moments leading to it were not. You guessed it was partly your fault for ignoring the negative emotions you had felt for Jang Min over the past few months. Now, it was too late to fix them.

You were done. You couldn't fight even when a fraction of your mind told you so. Because if you loved Jang Min like your other half, you wouldn't feel nauseated at the thought of mending your broken relationship.

It's over.

You wanted to say more—to apologize to Jang Min for wasting his time, but you knew there was no point to that. It would just feel like slapping Jang Min in the face. Giving an excuse would only make you feel better. Jang Min wouldn't benefit at all.

"Alright." What was the use of a small matchbox when winter had come? Jang Min could only offer you a small smile. Not even you, who had been intimate with him, could decipher the quick curve of his lips.

"It's late. We should head home."

Jang Min insisted on bringing you back to his house. You were reluctant but agreed since you were with Soobin and didn't like driving while your son remained in the back seat alone. Besides, all of your things were under Lee Sung's care.

Lee Sung handed you your phone and wallet right after you entered the car. “Your phone’s dead.”

You shrugged. You didn’t have any important calls today, anyway.

"Thanks. Lee Sung-ssi--" You then offered your ex-boyfriend's assistant a genuine smile. It was the first time you attempted to be genuine to Lee Sung. "--For everything, especially for looking after Soobin."

"You make it sound like this is our last meeting, Mam." Lee Sung chuckled, oblivious that his boss was a single man now. "I know you got used to me driving you around, but don't get too sentimental on me. Tachihara's driving you home tonight, but we'll see each other soon. I just need to deal with a rat."

You were only being polite with Lee Sung. Frankly speaking, you didn't care what his agendas were. The word rat also left a bad taste in your mouth as you were reminded of your previous conversation with Jang Min. You didn't want to be rude, though—as your ex's calculating eyes were watching you. Soobin was also nuzzled in Jang Min's arms.

"Use your best trap, then." This was your farewell before shutting the car door close. You dared to look at Jang Min just to see his expression; for some reason, Jang Min's upper lips curved more.

The nauseating feeling clogged your throat again. You and Jang Min were done, so there was no need to give him the benefit of the doubt.

But you couldn't—afraid of what you’d know. You just did what you were good at: you pretended the uncomfortable feeling flooding your heart wouldn't drown you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

The rat was not caught in the trap because Jungkook freely trudged back to your apartment at one in the morning. He had dealt with Lee Sung, and only when he knew Lee Sung wouldn't harm his family did Jungkook decide to head home.

Jungkook was used to going back to a quiet home. Seeing Lee Sung tonight made him think he was back to his old life; this was why it shocked him to see you waiting for him.

"Welcome home, Kook." Your tone was lukewarm, masking all worries and guilt you harbored today because at least one thing was right:

Jungkook came back to you.

Sadly, Jungkook didn't seem too thrilled to see you. One look at your dropping eyes was enough for Jungkook to know you had an eventful night.

Jungkook sneered.

Jealousy was a little shit. Jungkook thought he was over it until he saw you smiling at him, acting like you didn't ditch him for the night.

Don't even get him started with your insincere concern. You had the most gentle smile when you welcomed Jungkook home, but it abruptly changed into an arched brow when you spotted the dried blood on Jungkook's skin.

"What happened to your hand?" You were alarmed, mindlessly crossing the distance between you two. Your rational thought disappeared as deep-seated fury and worry clouded your mind.

"Who hurt you?" You couldn't take it. The low grumble coming from your throat was akin to a wounded wolf.

Protect. You needed to protect Jungkook.

You seized your best friend’s wrist, chest tightening as an unbearable ache spread through your limbs.

There was a deep cut on Jungkook's palm, and God--you wanted nothing but to lick the wound and purr on Jungkook's neck. You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Breaking up with Jang Min wasn't an excuse to suddenly unleash your feelings for Jungkook.

But you were tired and pushed to your limits. Earlier, you wondered if you loved Jang Min at all. Now, the sinking feeling in your chest mocked and rejoiced as the thought of never getting over Jungkook overwhelmed your senses.

You found that the candle lighting your anger toward Jungkook was blown away—just as the darkness in your vision couldn't see and ignite the scorching type of love you once thought you felt toward Jang Min.

You heaved a deep breath.

Everything was too much and too little at once. Tears glistened in your eyes, but the lonely wolf inside of you was deprived of howling in the moon.

Jungkook pulled his hand away.

"What do you care if I got hurt?" His tone was scathing. Between the two of you, Jungkook held the burning lamp. He couldn't shake the image of you kissing another man, even though he knew it was irrational.

He hurt you first. But it didn't mean Jungkook turned into a fucking rock that wouldn't be shaken at seeing the love of his life get taken away.

Jungkook no longer felt human. Unfortunately, he still had his flesh and blood. His body tingled and felt like it was subjected to the fire after being in the frying pan for a long time. He was hurting, and masking his vulnerability didn't work anymore. Jungkook, in the face of the moon, finally bared his broken heart.

"Is that all you got? Pretending to care when you didn't even have the decency to tell me you're not coming to our planned dinner?"

A sharp edge to Jungkook's tone made your breathing hitch. The last time Jungkook acted this way was when you underestimated his venture with Oda. You never thought you’d see this side of Jungkook again. You got used to having the upper hand.

But you couldn't deny that you were in the wrong now.

"Fuck." You cussed, eyes widening as you struggled to keep your hands to yourself. You wanted to hold onto Jungkook, afraid that he'd bolt. "I—Jungkook, I didn't..."

Didn't what? Didn't know that Lee Sung messed up? That you blindly followed Jang Min’s assistant’s claim when you should have known better?

You felt stupid.

Jungkook was wearing the suit you bought for him. You could also tell that your best friend had blow-dried his hair earlier, as it had a more prominent curl at the end. Jungkook was probably nervous but sucked it up because you promised him a good time. You weren’t blind. You might not know what answer Jungkook would give, but you knew it took him much courage to be there.

Jungkook was never one to show up. He was a bolter, for fuck's sake. And the one time he didn't run away was also the time you made him wait in vain.

I'm sorry You liked to say. Unfortunately, the words were stuck in your throat.

Jungkook took in your expression. You looked constipated—as if acknowledging your mistake would be the end of the world.

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head.

"Whatever." He turned away. "You've always been like this, anyway."

That did the trick. You snapped out of your reverie. You looked at Jungkook as if he had offended your ancestors.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

But Jungkook wasn't looking at you anymore. He was walking toward his bedroom—as if he wanted nothing but to shut off the world.

You didn't think so. Jungkook had every right to pout, but he couldn't get away from accusing you of some bullshit. What did Jungkook mean you had always been like this!? Weren’t you the one who returned to Incheon after Jungkook and Jisoo stomped at your heart!?

"I'm talking to you, asshole!" You were about to forcefully grab the bastard's hand when Jungkook suddenly turned to you.

Your bodies bumped. You trembled when you felt Jungkook's hot, staggered breathing fanning your cheek.

Silence clouded the room, both your chests heaving.

The rim of Jungkook's eyes was red. He unconsciously nuzzled his nose against your cheek. You held back a flinch, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage.

Jungkook's heart wasn't doing any better. He wanted to claw it out and stomp it until it became a mess. This way, he wouldn’t feel anything anymore.

But that wasn't possible now, was it? Jungkook didn’t want his emotions to overwhelm him, but he didn’t think he could ever let go of the high he got from feeling the warmth of your skin.

You were addicting. It was easy to fall for you, making Jungkook think that what you two had was salvageable.

It wasn't. He made a mistake before, and you made a conscious decision to hurt Jungkook in return.

Jungkook took a step back. He could almost hear your silent protest. It made Jungkook want to pull his hair out.

You two really were fucked up. You both wanted to let go of each other, but neither wanted to unclench your fingers.

Jungkook sighed. He looked at you with resentment and defeat in his eyes.

"You never answered my letters."

Apologizing for your mistake was hard, but apologizing when you didn’t know what you did wrong was impossible.

"What letters?" Your mouth parted in confusion; a deep crease formed on your forehead. You had no idea what Jungkook was talking about.

Jungkook sniffed.

“Jungkook, what letters?” An unberable sense of panic shot through your body. It didn't help that your best friend looked hopeless.

Jungkook didn’t know where to start. All of this was fucked up. He just wanted to--

“I was in prison for years." –let it out. Jungkook broke the news to you as he took out a folded paper in the pocket of his dress shirt. “I sent you hundreds of letters from there, but you never responded.”

The paper was shoved into your chest. You panickily gripped it, scared Jungkook would snatch the paper. You had a feeling that this piece of paper contained the truth you had been craving all this time.

“I was going to accept your proposal, but I didn’t want to base our relationship on a lie.” Jungkook was doing well in trying to steady his voice. “I wanted to come clean to you. I wanted you to know that I paid half of my sins inside that shitty hole.”

You gasped lowly, too stunned to speak.

Jungkook had the urge to laugh because wasn’t it funny? He was just cradling his anger at you for making him wait in vain, but now he was forced to retreat again--to clip his claw and pretend it didn't hurt. How could he ever stand a chance against you when he was deemed as the evil one from the very start? As if making a mistake robbed him of feeling things—like he wasn’t allowed to start over again?

Jungkook didn’t know how to redeem himself anymore. He apologized to you for taking this long to tell him the truth.

“I…” You trailed off. You couldn’t meet Jungkook’s eyes. You were retreating, too.

Jungkook should have seen this coming--

“I..I need to process this.”

--and he had. 

You were forced to be fed with information. You had no chance to chew them, so now you choked. 

Jungkook clenched his jaw, forced to pacify himself to accept this. It’s okay, he told himself, because what else was he supposed to do aside from watching you crawl back to your room?

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

Jungkook paced back and forth in the living room before standing before your bedroom door.

4:02AM. It had been hours since you last confronted each other. You said you needed to process the information slapped to your face, but you didn’t say how long.

Jungkook couldn’t help but probe. He knocked on your door once.

There was no answer from the other side of the room.

Inhale, Jungkook commanded himself before trying again.

This time, he used his voice: he called your name.

Jungkook had known you for years and understood that you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the intense stimulation you had experienced. He was proven right when he pressed his ear to the door and heard you stirring on the other side.

Jungkook's breath caught in his throat, a sudden intake of air filling his lungs, but he didn’t choke. 

He felt relieved. You were listening to him.

Jungkook couldn’t waste his chance. He set aside his feelings in the hope of making this right. 

You slowly sat on the floor while listening to your best friend speak. You were glad you couldn’t see Jungkook’s face, as that would prompt you to break down and cry.

“You said you need to process everything, but will you listen to me?”

Your lips were pursed, yet you rested your head on the door.

Jungkook let out a breath, “Being in prison should have been the first thing I told you, but I…”

There was silence. Jungkook forced himself to continue.

“I was scared. When you told me about Soobin, I didn’t know what to do with him. I…” 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“I didn’t want him,” Jungkook said. 

Tears cascaded down your cheek, your fear materializing in the form of Jungkook’s soft tone but venomous words. You hated yourself for wanting to continue listening to him. Your treacherous mind was making you feel as if there was more to Jungkook’s story—that this wasn’t the time to snarl and hate him for feeling things.

“Soobin is my baggage, and he’s so, so heavy. He is a reminder of the things I have to carry with me wherever I go.”

Stop. Don’t say that to my child.

“But he isn’t like that anymore. Soobin is not a thing. He’s not a baggage. He’s my…”

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he puffed out his chest. “He’s my heart.” As he is yours. 

“I understand if you want me gone. I kept the truth from you. You are a mother. I know you wouldn’t want your son to be associated with an ex-convict like me.” Jungkook said this as if he was sure there was no room for any other opinion. Jungkook did not regard himself highly—or even as a human after he fell from grace. It didn’t even occur to him to keep his anger to you. He cared more about what you would feel after knowing the truth. His own feelings be damned.

“But…” Jungkook clenched his hands into determined fists. “Please know that I won’t leave. Not unless you told me to.”

Your head snapped up, but you soon wiped your tears and pressed your ears on the door, thinking you could hear Jungkook say that again. Did you get it right? Was Jungkook really telling you he wouldn’t leave?

“I made the mistake of hurting and pushing you away. I am still living with the consequences of that. I don’t mind. I can pay for it for as long as you want, but I refuse to want to die because of it.”

Jungkook had wished for nothing but death since he messed up his life. However, he was done with that part of him. He said Soobin was his heart, but that was a lie. You and Soobin served as his heart—his family kept him going:

You and Soobin pumped blood into Jungkook’s veins.

Wanting to die was easy. It was his wish, but… “From now on, I will live for you and Soobin.”

Jungkook rubbed his face against the door, hoping you could somehow feel his sincerity. He wished to see you and look at your eyes as deep as the sea. Jungkook wanted to drown in them.

“I will be here,” Jungkook repeated. “For as long as you will take me.”

There was no response from you, but Jungkook didn’t mind. He simply closed his eyes, wishing that when the sun rose, you would find it in yourself to take him back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

A/N: the fourth pic in the book cover finally made sense. Please look forward to Jungkook's life in prison soon ~~

I don't know when the next chapter will come out since starting next week, I am officially joining a new team in the office. Your girl is a fixed asset accountant or somethin' haha. Please wish me luck <3

[slasherx]

Welcome Home

Content: Michael Myers x fem!Reader

Warnings: Michael may be OOC

Notes: Reader is in her late 40's

• ───────────────── •

Michael had broken out of the asylum once more. It had been years since he's seen you, and he was angry. You hadn't visited him once in the time he was locked up. But even in his anger, he missed you. He never forgot the way you used to say his name, the way you used to do things for him, and the way you used to show him affection.

As he approached your home, which was close to his childhood home, he could begin to see you. The years had weighed on you just as much as it had him. Your hair had begun to gray, light wrinkles beginning to form on your skin, but he could tell it was still you. Your fashion was the same, your smile was the same, your laugh through the window was the same.

But he heard your laugh paired with another laugh. A man's laugh. He gripped his knife tighter. Were you not faithful to him? He told you he would come back for you. He saw the man come into view and he felt his blood boil.

This man was much younger than you, seemingly fresh into his twenties. He had dark curly hair framing his face, dark eyes that shone with happiness in your presence, and his smile was wider than he liked. He decided enough was enough and he snuck around to the back.

Picking the lock, he silently entered your home. He didn't know what he was going to do with you, but he knew he was going to kill this young man. Gripping his knife tigher than he ever has been, he made his way through the house until he was right around the corner from you. You were in the kitchen with this young man, preparing something in the oven.

"I'm so glad you came over this weekend, Jackson. It's been so lonely here without you." You spoke, putting your hand on his shoulder.

"No problem, but you know how college is. I'll have to leave again in the morning." Jackson shrugs. "I'm not looking forward to my drive back to campus."

"I know it's a couple hours on the way. I'll pack you some leftovers for the week." You moved to the stovetop, where Michael noticed you had a few other things cooking that he couldn't see from the window.

"You don't need to." Jackson's smile fell. "You do too much for me already."

"Because it's what I should do." You stirred something in a pot.

Michael had heard enough. You were cheating on him with some college kid, and his anger had reached the highest point it had in a long time. He turned around the corner and stood in the doorway of the kitchen, making a stomping sound. It caught both yours and Jacksons attention, making you both turn.

"Michael...?" You seemed shocked.

Jackson, quick as ever, opened a drawer and wielded a knife. "Woah man, where'd you come from?!"

"Jackson, no! Don't pull a knife on him!" You moved forward to grab his arm.

"He pulled a knife on us and you want me to just sit here?!" Jackson protested.

Michael raised his knife, and you noticed. Shoving yourself in front of Michael you screamed, "No Michael, don't! He's our son!"

Michael stopped. Then he looked at Jackson again. He had your eye shape and lips. He was so angry, he hadn't even noticed how this young man shared his eye color, hair color and hair type.

"Wait, mom, he's my dad?!" Jackson pointed the knife at Michael.

"Yes, he's your father, and he's finally home! Oh, Michael..." You moved towards him, but Michael raised his knife again, clearly angry with you.

"Michael, I'm so sorry I never visited you...Loomis had managed to prohibit me from visiting you. And when I learned I was pregnant, I didn't want to be anywhere near that man in case he wanted to take our child." You explained. "I'm sorry I didn't try harder, I really am, but you're here now! We can be a family!"

This was a lot to take in for Michael. So, you weren't cheating on him, but he was a father? And you cared for his child all this time, never meeting anybody else? He lowered his knife slowly, staring you in the eyes. He found no traces of lying, so he relaxed slightly.

"Mom, are you sure this guy is my dad? I mean, you said he was in some high security asylum miles away." Jackson also lowered his knife. "How could he have escaped?"

"He's escaped before." You say to your son before looking back at Michael. "I know this is all very sudden, and I'm sorry it's like this, but I'd like for us to be a family if possible."

Michael continued to stare at you, feeling his love for you slowly trickle back through him. All he could think about was you in the asylum, and now you're in front of him. Even if it's for a night, he would at least love to be back in your arms. He drops his knife, and embraces you.

• ───────────────── •

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