#now i’m gonna pick up dinner go home and take a bath with some sparkling water my light projector some epsom salt and a good smut fic 😎

[willowfey]

i just got my first massage and oh my god. holy fuck. why didn’t anyone tell me i should never ask for a single thing for any holiday or birthday ever again.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Fearing You, Loving You | Part 3

Word Count: 3.3k

Genre: smut, angst, some fluff

Warnings: dom!felix, sub!reader, yandere!felix, cockwarming, blowjob, felix loves hentai and humiliating oc, filming, creampie, spitting, mentions of violence.

Sequel to I'm Yours, You're Mine

Gif credit @915archive (yes I'm only gonna use your gifs for lix from now on lol)

You decided that you can't just passively accept your condition. You had to do something to improve your situation, and you know just what to do. 

When Felix comes home from work, you greet him with a kiss that surprises him before you lead him to the bathroom where you had drawn him a bath, gently stripping him and pulling him to the tub. 

Felix stares at you in wonder as get a loofah and pour some body wash on it. 

"What's the occasion?" He asks, happily leaning into your touch. 

"Can't a woman show her husband how much she appreciates him?" You drawl, knowing that his delusional mind and his need to believe that everything is okay will make him easily accept your answer. “I just want to show you how much I love you…”

He relaxes into your touch completely as you gently scrub his body and wash his hair while he lay calm and content like a cat between your arms.

He looked so happy and peaceful, and you lean in to give his pouty lips a peck. His eyes spring open, staring at you in awe before they turn into the lovely crescents they get when he smiles.

“I love you.” He beams, and you curse your heart for still fluttering at his words after all he’s done, but you still can't bring yourself to reply, and Felix's face turns hard. He grabs your hands, stopping your movements. "Tell me you love me." 

You hold his gaze for a minute, your heart hammering against your ribcage, before you force yourself to smile. 

“I’m madly in love with you.” You murmur, washing the conditioner out of his hair before you pull him up to his feet and wrap a towel around his waist. 

Taking his hand in yours, you lead him into the bedroom, drying him off and grabbing a bottle of lotion. Carefully, you rub the product over his skin, taking care to massage the areas you think might be sore like his neck and his back. You tell yourself that you’re only doing this to appease him so that he'll let you have a relationship with your child, disregarding the ball of warmth that keeps growing in the center of your chest with each happy sigh and loving glance he throws at you. 

You dress him up in soft pajamas and sit behind to dry his hair. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs ever slightly open as he surrenders himself to your touch. He looks so soft, just like the Felix you used to know, that you can’t help but let the towel fall away as you run your fingers through his soft, wet her and press your lips to his cheek. Felix hums appreciatively, leaving his head to the side to give you better access, when a knock sounds at the door, making you jump back. 

"Can I come in, daddy?" Your daughter’s sweet voice pipes up from behind the door.She wasn't allowed to step into the master bedroom without permission, and said permission could only be given by her father if he was present. Felix opens his eyes and is met by your longing ones, silently begging him to let your daughter in. 

He doesn’t look like he wants this moment to be interrupted so you’re shocked when his reply comes, voice deep with exhaustion."Come in, sweetheart." 

Your heart swells and you smile brightly at him. It's working!

He responds with a tired smile of his own as the girl opens the door and timidly comes in. 

"What are you doing?" She asks curiously. 

"Mommy is doing daddy's hair." You beam, playing with Felix’s hair absently. 

"Oh!" Her eyes sparkle, "Can I be the one who styles your hair, daddy?"

Felix chuckles lowly at her enthusiasm, "Of course, princess." 

The girl squeaks in happiness and jumps in place. "I just have to get some stuff from my room. I'll be right back." 

You stare lovingly at her small retreating form. When she's gone, your eyes go back to Felix and you see him looking up at you with adoration in his eyes that makes your breath hitch in your throat. He takes one of your hands in his and places a soft kiss to the back of it. "This is perfect, darling. Thank you. I promise you that I'll do whatever it takes if it means we’ll be together forever, my sweet.”

Your breath hitches and hand shakes in his hold. A million conflicting emotions swelled up inside you, but they were all smothered as soon as your daughter steps back into the door, jumping onto the bed with her little box of hair accessories and a comb.

You pull your hand away as she gets to work, and you watch them closely, eyes trained on your daughter’s excited smile as she messes with her daddy’s hair, and the equally as gorgeous smile he has on his face as he lets her unleash her creative side on him, encouraging her all the while. 

They looked so happy all wrapped up in their little bubble, and you so wanted to be part of it too. You could be. He promised you you can, if only you’d be good. And isn’t that what you wanted? The love of your daughter and your husband? Why were you fighting him so hard?

“Do you prefer the pink ribbon or the sparkly clip, daddy?” Your girl holds the items in her small hands to show them off and Felix pursues his lips in contemplation. 

“The clip I think.” You cut in, brushing Felix’s hair down. “It matches daddy’s sparkly eyes, don’t you think?” 

“Ohh, that’s right!” Your girl exclaims, putting the ribbon down and placing the clip in Felix’s hair. “What do you think, daddy?” 

“I don’t know. What does mommy think?” He holds your hand, smiling up at you, and you know you’re doing the right thing. 

“I love it. You look really pretty, honey.” You lace your fingers with his, “You did a great job, sweetheart.” 

“Yaaay!” Your girl claps in excitement, and Felix turns to her. “Would you like to go get some donuts, princess?” 

“Yes, daddy!” She chirps and jumps off the bed. “I’ll go get dressed.”

Your smile falls. You weren’t allowed to go on outings like this with them lest you steal your daughter and run away or alert anyone. 

"You wanna come with, love?" He brings your hand back to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. 

You couldn't believe how well this was working. You haven't been allowed out like this in years! Maybe you just needed to be nicer to him, and he'll give you everything just like he promised.

You don’t give him a moment to reconsider, rushing to accept.  "I'd love to!" 

__________

Everything was perfect. The night breeze, your daughter's excited voice, the city lights. This is what you could have, always.

Only one detail was off, how Felix never let go of your daughter's hand. But you don't let that bother you. You still needed to prove to him that he can trust you. And everything will be good again.

You step into the store with a bright smile, following Felix to the register and watching him pay for the donuts and coffee. You all then go to select the donuts you want. You pick a chocolate one and a strawberry one. 

While Felix and your daughter choose their own donuts, the barista tells you that your coffee is ready. Not thinking, you leave your husband and daughter and go to pick up the coffee. 

"Umm where is the sugar--" You wonder absentmindedly before spotting it and reaching out for it. The barista reaches out at the same time and your hands touch. You quickly pull away, the both of you laughing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You smile, a little embarrassed. 

“That’s okay. I don’t mind touching hands with such a pretty lady.” The barista flirts, passing you the sugar. You sheepishly reach out to take them, feeling a little anxious for some reason you can’t pinpoint. 

You realize your mistake when someone else intercepts you and snatches the sugar packets away. You look up to see a very angry Felix glaring the man down. "She is pretty, isn't she? She’s also my wife." 

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I was just trying to help.” The barista clears his throat and looks down.

“I’m sure you were.” Felix grits, quickly putting the sugar in the coffee and stirring it. As soon as he’s done, he hands you the coffee and drags both you and your daughter out of the shop. 

The walk back home he is silent despite your daughter’s constant attempts to make small talk. When you reach your building, he tells you to go up and get dinner ready.

"Where are you going daddy?" Your daughter asks, and Felix glares at you. "Daddy has to take care of something, princess." 

You blanch, holding onto him. "Felix, please." 

He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Do you want to make a scene in front of your daughter? Wanna let her hear how much of a slut her mother is?" 

Tears well up in your eyes and you shake your head. Everything was so perfect. How did it go so wrong? You were so stupid. If you hadn't moved from Felix's side, none of this would've happened. 

Felix pulls you off of him and orders you to go upstairs, and with a teary face you obey. 

When you step into the apartment, your daughter turns to you with crossed arms and a frown on her little face. “You made daddy angry again, didn’t you?”

You stare at her in shock. “What?”

“You always make daddy angry. You always ruin everything.” 

Finding yourself angry for the first time at your daughter. "You don't know anything. You don't know how much I sacrificed for your sake!" 

"I don't care. You only make daddy sad and I hate you."

Her words stab at your heart. With blurry eyes, you grab her and throw her into her room, locking the door behind her and falling to the floor in a sobbing mess. 

You felt wretched. You felt abandoned. You know it's not your daughter's fault, that she's brainwashed, but her words hurt you so much and you find yourself craving reassurance and affection that you know you can only get from one person. 

Wiping your tears, you go to your room to dress up for him, wearing the lingerie dress he had wanted to see on you, and then go to the kitchen to make him dinner, hoping that would appease him enough to give you what you need. 

__________________________

When you hear the door open you freeze in your spot, all your fears reaching their extremes again. You remain still as a statue as you hear his footsteps approach until he's right behind you, his body flush against yours, his hands snaking up your body to grab at your breasts.

“Did you enjoy your little show babe?" He asks, tone sharp.

"No." You quickly attempt to clarify, "I didn't mean to be bad."

"Is that why you looked like you were going to get on your knees in the middle of the store and blow him?"

You shake your head harshly, "I didn't. I just smiled because I was nervous."

He scoffs, his small hands pushing your dainty bra down and roughly groping your tits. "You think I believe you? God, I let you out once thinking you'll be good, but my little cockslut can't help herself, huh?"

“No, Felix--” Tears brim your eyes once again. He wasn't giving you what you wanted. “I would never do anything to betray you.”

"But you did." He growls, rubbing your pussy coarsely while squeezing your tits. “I should’ve bred you before leaving. You’re much better behaved when my cum is dripping down your legs and reminding you of who you belong to.”

“I’m sorry.” You sob, leaning into his touch, hoping to appease him. 

"You will be sorry, baby.“ He promises, making you shiver as he backs away, “Put the food on the table. No plate for you. Whores don't get to eat food. I'll keep your mouth busy with something else."

You know what’s coming, and you feel incredibly humiliated. "No, Felix, please. It's embarrassing."

"Good. You should be embarrassed. If you're gonna act like a cock-hungry slut then you need to be treated like one." He snarls, chuckling at your tears. “You’re crying? Baby I haven’t even given you anything to cry about.”

Helplessly, you prepare his plate for him, already expecting his command. 

“Get on your knees.” He sneers, watching you get between his legs. “Take my cock out and suck on it.” 

You try to obey but when you see the blood stains on his pants, you stop abruptly. “Felix, what did you....”

He looks down at you with heavy eyes and smirks, "Don't worry I didn't kill the man you were drooling after. I just made sure he won't look at other men's wives again."

You shiver, not knowing quite what he means, With Felix this could be anything from a slight warning to a crippling attack. You know he won’t give you more information though so, for your own sake, you unzip his pants and pull out his hard dick, immediately taking it in your mouth. 

"That's a good girl." He breathes out, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. "Show your master how sorry you are."

You swirl your tongue around his dick, sucking on it earnestly, but as you pull up to breathe he pushes you down, making you take him completely, your nose brushing against his pubic bone with his length fully down your throat. He holds you there and you try to relax your throat as much as possible and try to breathe through your nose, knowing he’ll keep you there.

And he does. Through the whole meal, he stays balls deep in your throat, only resurfacing to fuck your mouth before he buries his dick in your throat again.   

Soon, your jaw gets sore, making your saliva dribble all over his dick and crotch, but Felix doesn't care. In fact, it turns him on, knowing you’re struggling to accommodate his length.

It feels like forever before he lets you go, letting you crash back against the table as you cough and gasp in. You raise your hand to your face to wipe at the mess you've made but Felix stops you.

“Don't clean up. I want you just like you are, my dirty slut.” 

__________________________

He has you on your back on the bed, arms hooked under your thighs and shackled together so that they are pulled up to your chest, immobilizing you and laying your pussy bare for him. 

The flash of the camera goes off as your husband takes a picture of you in the compromising position. 

He stares at it as it develops then he shows it to you, making your cheeks flame red at seeing just how lewd you look.

“You’re such a pretty little thing tied up like that, baby. And all mine, right?” 

"Yes, baby, all yours." You gush, hoping he'd have mercy on you. 

He brushes his fingers down your thigh, skipping over your core and going up the other one, making you shake in need. 

"Want my fingers in your pussy, honey?" He murmurs, brushing the tips of his fingers up and down your pussy with a feather light touch that only makes you whimper out in need. 

"Yes, Lix. Need you so bad." You gasp as his palm meets your pussy is a sharp slap, making your body convulse at the intense sensation. 

"Is that what you call your owner after everything you've done?" 

You shake your head, "No, master. I'm sorry."

"That's better." He purrs, slipping his middle finger inside of you. It was barely enough, just brushing your walls as he pumps it in and out of you. 

"More, please, master." 

"You're so greedy. Always begging for more."

He pushes his index in, the pads of his fingers brushing ever so slightly over your walls. You struggle, your body trying to close your legs but you can't. 

He curls his fingers and rubs back and forth against your g-spot, making you shake. "Master, please."

“You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.”

You nod, trying to appease him, and whine in distress when he takes his fingers out of your pussy. He brings them up to your mouth. 

"Tongue out." He says gruffly, placing his fingers on your tongue and pumping them in and out of your mouth, occasionally hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around them. 

"You're mine, baby. You were made for me. If only you would see." He sighs, taking a picture of you choking on his fingers before pulling them away, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. 

He presses his dick against your entrance and you whimper. 

"Gonna give you my cock now. Gonna stuff you full." He purrs, pushing himself inside. "Let's see if I can get your eyes to roll back into your skull, angel." 

He takes multiple pictures of you as he fucks you, instructing you on how to pose and what faces to make. 

"Yeah, that's it darling. Gonna carry these around to show to any man you try to seduce so they'd know whose slut you are." 

You shake your head, tears brimming along your eyelashes from how roughly he's fucking you. This isn't what you wanted. You need him to love you and be gentle with you. 

"That's not true!" You sob, barely able to get the words out between him railing you and your uncontrollable tears. "I didn't do anything. I was good just like you wanted."

"Don't fucking lie to my face!" He grits, throwing the camera to the side and grabbing your thighs so he can brutally drive his hips into yours, his cock not giving your pussy a break. "I saw the way you were looking at him." 

"No. No." Your eyes roll up as you feel your pussy start to clench around him, his cock forcing the orgasm out of you. 

"There you go. That's my good slut." 

You see the flash of the camera go off as you cum, and you can't even imagine how fucked out you look right now. 

He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. "Say ahhh." 

Dumbly, you obey, opening your mouth wide for him to spit into. You keep your mouth open while he takes a picture of you. 

"Swallow." He commands, watching you with dark eyes as you do and groaning when you open your mouth again to show him. "Good girl. You got me so close, baby. Gonna give you all my cum. You want it, baby?"

You whimper in agreement, your poor pussy getting sore and overstimulated. 

"I should take away your birth control and stuff you full of my cum. Give you another baby and keep you pregnant all the time so everyone would know that your pussy is taken." His pace gets sloppy and erratic as he nears his end.

"No, baby, please. Don't."

"Shut up, slut. I'll make it so everyone will know that you're claimed." He jerks his hips forward one last time before he groans loudly and his cock twitches inside you, filling you up with his cum. 

He stays there for a while, pluging your pussy and keeping his cum inside as if he intends on making true on his promise. 

When he pulls back, you feel his seed dribble out of your pussy before a flash goes off. 

"Stick your tongue out." He orders, and puts your fingers up in a double peace sign to mimic the fucked stupid characters in the hentai he loves to watch so much.

"Perfect." He smiles, showing you the picture. You look ruined, used, and entirely his.

________________

A/N: hope you're as dead as I am

[platypanthewriter]

Lilies of the Valley

This one’s for you @mourntheantagonist​!  And @cherrydreamer​, thanks so much for the loan of your name!

Harringrove April Prompt day 30: Lilies of the Valley!  Neil had opinions about Billy's mom, and Billy's mom's makeup, and Billy.  What he thought doesn't matter anymore, but Billy's still a little worried about bringing it all up to Steve.  GNC Billy.

When Billy was five, he’d tried on his mom’s gold pumps and her rainbowy nail polish, and she’d laughed and spread her arms for him to stumble into.  “Hey, glitter-bug,” she said, kissing his head all over until he giggled, trying to protect his neck from her attack.  “How’s the prettiest boy in town?” she whispered, blowing raspberries down his chest and stomach, and then finally letting him up once he was giggling so hard he couldn’t breathe.  

She’d let him sit on her fancy vanity stool, spinning him now and then so they could see how he looked from different angles in the three mirrors.  “Oh no,” she whispered, her eyes very wide.  “I thought you were prettiest from this side, but every new side is prettier!  How is it, sir, being the prettiest,” she asked, offering him an imaginary microphone.

He beamed into her face, and cleared his throat.  “You’re the prettiest,” he told her, his eyes big with anticipation, and sure enough, she yelled and scooped him up, dumping him on the bed and cuddling him until they’d both laughed so hard their lungs hurt.  

“You are,” she whispered.  “I made the prettiest boy in the world.”

“You’re the prettiest girl,” he said loyally, and that time she kissed his nose.  “Anyway,” he whispered, “—you have…” he trailed off, reaching up to touch the sparkling powders over her eyes, and the bright greasy red on her lips.

She drew a shaky breath, pushing herself up, and glancing towards the door.  “...do you want to play with my makeup, baby?” she asked, and he sat up too, springing upright so fast they nearly clonked heads.

“Can we?” he asked, keeping his voice low, like hers, but nearly vibrating with excitement.

She bit her lips together, tucking some of his curls behind his ear.  “You know how there are some things we keep secret from Daddy, sweetie?”

Billy squirmed around to face her, nodding, and folding his hands like a grownup.  “Like when you kiss Mrs. Sally,” he whispered, then, belatedly, cupped his hands over his mouth.  

“Like that,” she told him, nodding.  “If I’d kept kissing Sally, he might have found out, and not let me see my lil’ glitterbug anymore.”

“I won’t tell,” Billy said, shaking his head, his heart pounding with the weight of adult responsibilities.  

“I know you won’t,” she told him, smiling, but she looked sad.  “But I can’t do anything that might make Daddy take you away, can I?”

Billy shook his head, wondering, as always, why his mom had married someone who didn’t like either of them very much.  He kind of wanted to ask, but she reached out and held his face, squishing his cheeks together like a fish, and he batted at her hands.  

“Makeup is like that,” she told him, and he frowned, trying to understand.  “If I put makeup on you, Daddy will be very angry,” she told him.  “So we have to wash it off before he gets home, and keep it a secret, just like me kissing Sally, right?”

It didn’t make a lot of sense, because Billy had seen his dad fussing with his hair, and his ties, and he knew his dad wanted to be pretty too—but maybe, he thought, his dad was mad because he was jealous, and that kind of fit.  He nodded seriously, licking his lips, as he wondered what the lipstick would feel like.

It felt weird and sticky, but it looked beautiful, and he gasped as he opened his eyes in the mirror, leaning closer to touch the mirror, and then touching his lips.  

“You’ll smear it,” his mom said, smiling, and Billy yanked his hand back into his lap.  He closed his eyes and felt the shiny powders brushing over them, his mom’s warm hand steadying his chin.  Very slowly, so as not to jar her efforts, he kicked his feet in happiness.

“There,” she said,” rubbing her thumb along his eyebrow, and squinting into his face.  “You’re adorable, honey.  Your mamma did so good.”  She spun him to look in the mirror again, and he stared as she kissed his cheek, and then redid his lipstick, because he couldn’t stop chewing at it, fascinated.  “Other mommies would be so jealous of my lil’ glitterbug,” she whispered.

An hour before his dad got home, she popped him in the bath, leaning in to scrub his face gently, and he sighed to see it go.  

“We’ll play again, sweetie,” she told him, kissing his forehead.

That night Billy’s dad clicked his tongue at her bright red lipstick, and went and got the Bible.  He made them stand, listening, while their dinner got cold.  

“‘Therefore I say unto you,’” he read, “‘Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. For the life is more than the food, and the body than the raiment.’  What do you suppose that means, Billy?”

Billy watched his mom shut her eyes, swallowing, and he tried to think, to get it right, but he never understood the Bible.  He told his mother once that he thought they should have somebody write it all down that talked normal, and she laughed for the whole afternoon, and then told him that was another thing to not tell his dad.

“I thought that school was teaching him to read, and now he can’t even understand language,” his dad said, and Billy’s mom flinched.  

“It means we should think about god more than looking pretty,” Billy’s mom said dully, and Billy watched her, and then his dad, wondering why he’d even wanted to marry her, because she was beautiful and funny and perfect, and Billy’s dad even got mad over things like the neighbor’s Christmas lights.

She didn’t wear the bright colors, after that.

 Years later, Steve was driving back from picking up burgers, and Billy shoved a handful of fries in his mouth, and slurped his soda.

“You ever miss fucking a chick,” he said, weirdly flat.

“Uh,” said Steve, who hadn’t.  “...um.  Uh, d’you?” he asked, warily, and Billy shrugged, unwrapping his burger.  He took a huge bite, grunting appreciatively, and Steve tried to think of what to say.  “What...are you missing,” he asked, slowly, and Billy smirked over.  

“Nothing big, don’t flip your shit,” he said, taking another bite of burger, and staring out at the passing scenery, as Steve tried not to shake him, or bite his lip, or look like he was flipping his shit.

“...what is this,” Steve asked, finally, clenching his hands on the steering wheel.  “You cheating on me?!”

“No,” Billy said quickly.

“You want to?  You wanna break up?!  Where the fuck is this going, Hargrove?!” Steve hissed at him, and Billy sighed, letting his head thunk into the window.  

“No, fuck you, I don’t want...any of that,” he sighed.  “Calm your tits, Harringt—”

“Fuck you,” Steve spat back.  “If you’re fucking bored—”

“No!�� I didn’t mean that!” Billy shot back, throwing a french fry at him, and Steve grabbed it and ate it, chewing with his mouth open, and his teeth bared.  “Fuck you,” Billy sighed.  “I just asked you a question, don’t get all pissed.”  He sighed again, lowering the burger to his lap, and frowning past it.  “I just wondered.”

Steve had kinda relaxed, waking every morning and seeing Billy sprawled next to him, his hair in his open, snoring mouth, and he’d forgotten he was Steve Harrington, the guy people left.  “Fuck,” he whispered.

“I just meant the—they’re soft,” Billy said, glancing over, and then back down, his jaw working.  

“You’re saying I need to get fat?” Steve asked dryly, through his teeth, as he pulled into the garage.

“No!” Billy shoved him against the door of the car.  “Forget it.”

“Not likely,” Steve muttered.  Billy shouldered past him into the house, and then ignored him until Steve went to bed, and Steve laid up in their bed alone.  He didn’t cry much, but the couple tears that escaped went right in his ear, and he was tempted to just...go down and throw every porn cassette he’d ever owned at Billy’s head.

 The next morning he got up and made bacon and eggs—he was hungry, even if Billy was being an asshole—and Billy came in and helped himself.  

Billy’s eyes were swollen and red, and Steve didn’t know what to do with that—he’d never broken up with anybody he really liked, he thought, dully.  Maybe it was hard.  “Sorry for trying to have a conversation,” Billy hissed, and walked off, and Steve slid his plate of food aside, suddenly not hungry.  

After a few minutes, Billy stomped back in.  “What, you gonna stay out of rooms I’m in now—” he started, snarling, and then he stopped, and probably took stock of Steve’s head in his arms on the counter, and his breakfast getting cold.  Steve jerked his head up, rubbing his face.  “Fuck,” Billy muttered, grabbing Steve around the waist, and turning him enough to kiss.  “I don’t…” he said, softly, biting his lip.  “I don’t want somebody else.  Don’t be a fucking dumbass, jesus, of course I don’t want someone else—”

“How the hell should I know?!” Steve hissed back, but relaxing, a little, into the kisses.  “You just said you missed fucking women.  I’m not one, if you missed that—”

“I didn’t say that,” Billy told him, taking Steve’s hands.  “I asked if you missed it.  Stroking your hands up here,” he breathed against Steve’s lips, and slid Steve’s palms up where Billy’s sides were shirtless and smooth under his denim jacket.  “Feeling something...elastic, maybe,” he whispered between open-mouthed kisses, and lifted Steve’s hands up farther, to stroke over his nipples.  “Something silky.”

It felt like the conversation had taken a sharp tilt, and Steve felt like the marble in a little maze, trying to avoid dropping through the holes.  “...on you,” he whispered back, to be sure, trying to imagine it.  

Billy was perfect already, he wanted to say, from the little softness over the waistband of his jeans where he’d stopped working out so hard, once he was away from his dad, to stretched pink scars that reminded Steve there were more places to kiss.  But Billy was already withdrawing again, his shoulders hunching as he smirked, and Steve tried a “Keep talking.”

His hands were abruptly fuller of Billy as he leaned in, shoving Steve back against the counter.  “I gotta keep things fresh, right,” he whispered.  “Make sure you still want what I got.  Maybe…”  Steve waited as Billy searched his face, biting his lips, and then took a shaky breath.  “Maybe dress up...a little,” he mumbled, losing momentum, and Steve hurried, feeling the need to catch some fragile part of Billy before it smashed.

“You wanna dress up for me?” he asked, making sure to grin, because it honestly sounded weird, but Billy wanted to—and Steve didn’t really give a shit about flowers, either, but even if they gave him hayfever, he knew to be happy when somebody picked him out a present.  At least, he thought, whatever Billy was talking about was unlikely to make him sneeze.  

Billy’s smirk went a little smaller as he flushed, and he laughed, shaking a little.  “If—if you want,” he said fast, grinning tensely.  “If you...if that…” he muttered, looking a little shiny-eyed, and Steve slid his hands around the soft, scarred skin of Billy’s back, and down toward the swell of his ass.  “Imagine something bright down there,” Billy whispered, breathing against Steve’s jaw.  “You could snap the elastic, pull me over.”

That sounded like Billy Hargrove wanted to wear lace panties, and Steve fought back an instinctive snigger, squeezing him closer, and trying to think of something to say, something that wasn’t “You’d make duct tape hot, babe,” or “Y’know we could not do that, and just fuck,” or anything else that made it seem like Billy’d asked him about something weird as hell, and important to Billy, and Steve hadn’t even listened.  “Yeah,” Steve whispered, not sure what was required.  “Sounds hot,” he said lamely, but Billy relaxed against him.

“Yeah,” he whispered, nodding, and laughing, and stroking his fingers through Steve’s hair so clumsily he almost poked Steve in the eye.  “Yeah, yes, it’ll—it’ll be good, you’ll like it,” he whispered against Steve’s lips.

 The next day Billy disappeared after school, and came home squirming and pink-cheeked.  He wandered up like nothing was going on, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turned and drew him in.  Billy had his jacket buttoned, for once, and a flushed smirk, and Steve unbuttoned it from the bottom, sliding his fingers up over what felt like soft, elasticy cotton.  It was a clingy little camisole thing, he realized, nearly a tanktop, nearly unisex, but the satin edging around the top, the thin straps, and the bright red put it squarely in the women’s section.  

Billy laughed nervously.  “It’s not even that pretty,” he said, glancing at Steve’s face, and then baring his teeth a little into the distance.  “Fuck, this was dumb, in this little hick town, I couldn’t even find anything—”

It was stretched out across Billy’s chest, not the shape it expected to fit, and his nipples showed around the straps, the soft fabric clinging to his skin.  “No,” Steve whispered, sliding his hands over ropy satin straps, and Billy’s skin.  He ran a finger along the strap and down, his nail catching on Billy’s chest, so he shivered.  “No, it’s—it’s really...pretty, Billy,” Steve breathed, and Billy reddened like Steve had never seen before, his smile widening into a beaming grin.

“They’re just cotton,” Billy whispered, “—but they were red, at least—” 

Steve smoothed his hands over the soft fabric.  He slid his fingers down the back of Billy’s jeans, and felt—yep, he thought, grinning as he felt Billy laugh, another thin elastic edge that definitely wasn’t Fruit-of-the-Looms.  “Just cotton,” Billy whispered again, sighing.  

Steve had bought lingerie before, but he’d never really thought about it for Billy—or even Nancy, who was too ticklish for lace, and liked the spontaneity of showing up and pushing Steve onto his back on the couch more than she wanted to set anything up with candles and rose petals.  He felt a little guilty, though, seeing Billy squirming around, panting a little, his dick hard as a rock in plain cotton briefs, red or otherwise.  “So you…” Steve started, and then stopped, uncertain what he was trying to say.  

“What,” Billy bit out, glaring up at him, which looked...less than intimidating, in what looked like underwear for a kid, or somebody’s mom.  Steve ran his fingers along the line Billy’s dick made in the panties, fascinated, and it twitched.  Billy jerked his knee up, grinning, his freckles fading into his blush.  “Quit it,” he said.  “You’ll make me mess ‘em up.”

“...you like being...pretty,” Steve said, and Billy twitched, pulling his knees up and together.  “No, don’t, uh, don’t pillbug up,” Steve told him, leaning in to hug his boyfriend’s knees.  “Um, how...how pretty?  What...what kinds of…”

“The hell d’you mean how pretty,” Billy growled, warily, and Steve bent his head, pressing a kiss to Billy’s tanned knee.

“You just...want pretty clothes?” he asked, as Billy took a shaky breath.  “I just—I mean, you were talking about...girls.  You want like…” Steve ran his thumb over Billy’s tense, curled toes.  “You want I should paint these?”

“God, will you?” Billy asked, pushing himself up as he yanked Steve into a kiss,  knocking them both off-balance so Steve landed on top of Billy in his soft, elastic cotton, and Billy groaned.

“Yeah, I’ll paint ‘em,” Steve whispered, kissing Billy’s hot face.  “Don’t...really think you can get much prettier,” he said, feeling Billy’s cheek grin under his lips, “—but I’ll help.  I might have something upstairs.”

“The hell would you have,” Billy snorted.

Steve felt indignant for a second, then kind of dumb as he shot back “I could wear nail polish, you don’t fucking know,” before he registered that it probably hadn’t actually been an insult, and he started to feel his ears go red.  He cleared his throat.  “...uh, no, though.  I don’t.  But my mom.  There’s some of her stuff up there.”

“Oh,” Billy said, sitting up.  “You...you’d let me use your mom’s stuff?”

“Why not,” Steve shrugged, pulling him up.  “Maybe she’s got some nylons or something.”

“Holy shit,” Billy whispered, but he grabbed Steve’s arm, pulling him back around.  “You don’t think she’d...she’d think it’s gross, right,” he asked, still smirking a little, like he was trying to keep it up.  “She wouldn’t want some dude wearing her nylons.”

“You’re not some dude,” Steve said, rolling his eyes, “—and if she’s so damn precious about ‘em she can buy some more, come on.”  He drug Billy upstairs—Billy was very manhandleable, in bare feet and a sheer cotton underwear set, and Steve tried not to think about the difference it made—and pushed Billy down to sit on his parents’ chintz duvet cover.  He dug through her drawers, and found some nylons, and brought them over.  Billy laughed, wide-eyed, and Steve reached down and grabbed his foot, thinking.  “...y’know what,” he said, “—Mom used to do all this stuff to her feet, and I bet it kept her damn nylons from running.”

“...you saying I should go get a pedicure?” Billy snorted, and Steve shook his head, squeezing his boyfriend’s toes.  

“Nah.  Lemme see what she’s got, we can figure this out,” he mumbled, pulling out drawers.  “Can’t be that hard.”

“...you gonna give me a pedicure,” Billy muttered, like he didn’t know whether it was a question or not, and Steve was about to roll his eyes when he finally found the right drawer. 

“Oho,” he said, grinning over his shoulder.  “The mother lode.  Come look at the colors.  I mean, they’re mostly kind of pink, but there’s some reds.”

The bed creaked as Billy got up and came over, and his breath hitched.  He reached towards the lipsticks, and then jerked his hand back, and Steve grabbed the reddest one, and leaned to kiss him, softly, opening the lid.  Billy closed his eyes, panting a little, and Steve kissed him again, because Billy’d probably wanna sprawl around looking pretty for a while without anybody smearing it, once he had lipstick on.  

“Open your mouth, babe,” Steve said, and Billy did.  Steve could feel the pulse pounding in the skin under his fingers, but he just brushed the tip over the corner of Billy’s mouth, narrowing his eyes intently.  

Billy licked the tip of the lipstick, and Steve hissed at him, hsht! like Billy was a little kid, or a cat.  “I can’t do this if you eat it,” he pointed out, and Billy laughed.

“It tastes the same,” he said, softly.  

“...you eat it a lot?” Steve asked, realizing he had mouth open in concentration, and his tongue licking his teeth in the direction he was rubbing the lipstick on.  He bit his lips together, smiling in embarrassment.  

“I used to,” Billy said, letting Steve turn his head left and then right, and smiling.  “Mom would dress me up.”

Steve paused for a second, at that, his hand on the lipstick stilling, and then he started again.  “Dunno if I’ll do as good a job,” he said, and Billy laughed again, swallowing hard.  “...maybe I’ll get better with practice,” Steve told him, and Billy grinned, yanking him in for a hard kiss.  “Who-mmmph,” Steve protested, then leaned into it, feeling Billy sigh contentedly, and hum.  

When Steve pulled back, his dick went half-hard just for the way Billy looked, leaning back against the side of the bed in his soft red underwear set, his eyes closed, his grin smeared and lazy.  The red stood out, shiny and rich, and Steve wished—silently, to himself—that lipstick ever tasted even a tenth as good as it looked.  “...jesus, that’s nice,” he said.

“I’m the prettiest, right,” Billy whispered, and a couple tears leaked from under his closed eyelashes.  He sniffled as Steve lifted and turned his chin to fix his lipstick.  “Shut up,” he said hoarsely, even thought Steve hadn’t said a word.

“...just thinking you look gorgeous,” Steve told him.  “You look so pretty, babe.”

“...’life is more than the food, and the body than the raiment’,” Billy said, snorting a laugh, and Steve said “...what?”

“It’s a bible thing,” Billy said, his eyes widening as Steve pulled out a tray of eyeshadows, and held them up to Billy’s face, squinting.  

Steve squinted, decided the green would make Billy look like he had a weird Christmasy disease with the lipstick, and pulled out the other one, pinks and golds.  

“...it means you should worry more about following god’s word than dressing up like a slut,” Billy said, quirking his mouth.  “‘Consider the lilies, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin; yet I say unto you, Even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’  Like, God makes you like he wants, you shouldn’t...change it.  Try and...look...different.”  Billy sighed.  “He used to make us say it whenever we asked for new clothes.  I told him I might as well go to school naked, then.”

“I don’t remember the part in the bible where Jesus called people sluts,” Steve said, leaning in to kiss Billy’s cheek, and then concentrating on brushing gold over his eyelids.  

“Just be as nature made you, y’know, don’t...try to be...what you’re not,” Billy said, smirking.  “He never found out I wanted to wear lace panties.”

“Good,” Steve told his boyfriend, then whispered “God,” as he sat back.  “...Billy, god made you a lily.”

“What?!” Billy laughed, scrambling up to go look in the bathroom mirror.  He was quiet for a long minute, and Steve got up and followed, grimacing.

“I’ll get better with the little brushes,” he said, leaning through the door, but Billy was just making kissy faces at himself, entranced.  

“I’m the prettiest boy in the world,” he breathed, and Steve bit back a laugh.  “Come here.”  Steve wandered over to slide his arms around Billy’s waist from behind, and kiss his neck.  “...you like it, right,” Billy asked, and Steve nodded, squeezing him.  

“Come on,” he said, “Lemme do your toenails.”

“Jesus,” Billy said, giggling, kinda, his eyes shiny, and Steve just held him there, letting him look.

 The next day, Billy changed the oil in his car, his nails and lips red, and his face smeared with engine grease when Steve pulled him out from under the car for a kiss.  While he was tinkering, Steve drove clear to the Indianapolis Victoria’s Secret.  “I’m dating an Olympic swimmer,” he told them, having practiced the lie.  “She’s got no tits and these big shoulders, and she’s hotter than anyone else in the world, can you help me out?”

My other Harringrove prompts are here!

[prolestariwrites]

Open For Me [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Vergil/Reader Tags: Explicit sexual content, First time, First love, Violence, Death, Implied dubcon, Implied drug-induced sex Rating: M Part: 1 of 5

Summary: Vergil's life has been difficult as far back as he can remember, until he meets a young woman who saves his life. Can she save it again when he learns the truth of who he is, and bring him back from a dark and dangerous fate? A five-part story of pre- and post-canon Vergil. A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for months and I’m excited to finally be publishing. Thank you especially to @wordborne and @solynacea for feedback on this story. Credit to @drusoona for the Vergil pic above and the many sent my way that helped immensely. This story is written and will update every Friday, five parts in total.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Chapter 1: February 1994

That’s the problem with being the strong one. No one offers you a hand. —m. t.

“Come on,” you whisper as you unlock the front door and slip inside. Vergil follows, and you lean around him to quietly press the door shut and turn the deadbolt with a click. Pausing, you listen for any sound, but the house is dark and quiet. The truck outside means that at least your stepfather is home, but it’s late enough he’s probably sleeping off whatever he drank for the day. Mom is working nights, so no chance of running into her.

You don’t bother to turn on any of the lights, leading Vergil carefully up the steps, making sure to avoid the one that squeaks. His presence behind you makes your senses heightened, because if either of your parents found out you brought a boy home they’d have your ass and you’d be lucky to make it out alive. You hadn’t said as much to Vergil, but he seems to know instinctively, and he is silent as he follows you up to your room in the third-floor attic.

Once safely inside, you shut and lock your door before flipping on the bedside lamp. The room is bathed in warm light, and you turn nervously to see what he thinks. Vergil surveys the room, his face expressionless, but you breathe a sigh of relief when he nods. “It’s nice,” he says.

“Thanks.” Suddenly embarrassed, you gesture to your bed. “Want to sit down?”

“Sure.” He drops his bag quietly and kicks off his shoes, well-worn boots that are too expensive to belong to him. Everything he has is too expensive to be his, the leather jacket that he shrugs off and hangs on the doorknob, the chain around his neck that holds something under his dark t-shirt.

Vergil is a street kid, one of the many that roam around selling drugs and shoplifting to get by, but he’s different. Even though everything he owns is surely stolen and he doesn’t go to school or have a job, he’s not like the other punks who hang out on the corners. You had seen him around a bit, coming into the community center once in a while when they hand out box lunches or to rummage through the clothes bin. There had been something about him, some kind of air that made him stand out from the usual homeless kids; as if he didn’t really belong, as if he was from somewhere else, some time else.

Finally your curiosity got the better of you. You hang there too, a place to go that’s not home, and one afternoon as he was looking around with a scowl, you dared to go over.

“I’ve seen you before,” you said, looking him up and down.

“No you didn’t,” he had answered.

To your surprise, he had actually seemed almost alarmed. So you changed tactics and asked, “You need some help?”

“I don’t need help,” he said. “I’m looking for a phone.”

You jerked your chin to the side. “Payphones are over there. Need a quarter?”

“Thanks.” He had taken your quarter and made a call, and afterward you told him about the shower in the back he could use if he wanted. He had hesitated, but then nodded, and twenty minutes later when he had emerged with his silverish hair all wet and slicked back you were almost in love.

He kept turning up, and whether you made sure to run into him or he made sure to run into you, you didn’t know. But somehow when you were there, he was too. You learned his name was Vergil, and he was on his own, seventeen years old, just like you. You are a senior in high school, but he never went, and you laughed when he seemed surprised at the suggestion.

“Where do you live?” you had asked him one day as you helped him load some clothes into the washing machine.

“Wherever I can,” he had answered shortly.

“You can stay with me, if you ever get stuck.”

Like most of the teens that frequent the center, Vergil started to help around the place, but most of the time he just hung around, watching you do homework or sweep the floor, using the place to shower and get dinner or just take a nap in the TV room.

It’s cold tonight though, so when you offered a place again, he actually said yes. It still surprises you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watch him sit carefully on your mattress. He looks so out of place on your pink bedspread, which is too thin and too short but all you have. “Are you hungry?” you ask.

“Not really,” he answers. “Why are we being so quiet?”

You blush furiously at the question, moving to pick up some things you had tossed on the floor. “My stepdad is probably sleeping. He can be mean when you wake him up.”

“Sounds like an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you snort. You peek over your shoulder. “Not much longer though. I’m graduating in June and then I’m fucking out of here.”

“You’re leaving?”

You nod and dump the clothes in the hamper. “Yeah. I’ve been saving for a place. Gonna go to the city, get a job waitressing or something and try to take some classes. I want to be a nurse.”

Vergil considers this and nods. “You’d be good at that. When are you leaving?”

Shrugging, you reply, “I don’t know. This summer. Why, you want to come?”

His eyes widen slightly, then he surprises you again by nodding. “Yes. I’ll come.”

You smile and move to the bed, pressing your knee to the mattress as you straddle one of his legs. “Good,” you say, your arms going around his shoulders as his wraps around your waist. Then you lean down to kiss him, and your mouths seal together with a sigh as you settle on his lap.

It was two weeks ago when you had first kissed Vergil, stealing one when you were saying goodnight before heading home. You had been staying later and later just to hang out with him, and he was a regular now, there just to see you. Vergil even started walking you home, although you made him leave you at the corner, afraid your parents would see you walking up with a boy they wouldn’t approve of. It had been nothing more than a peck, but the next night he had kissed you properly, and every night since, leaving you in a daze when you turned down the block to your house.

His mouth is just as hot, just as firm, his lips lingering over yours. He slides his palms over your hips before slipping under your shirt, and you nibble on his lip as his fingers move upwards, his touch on your bare skin making you shiver.

The room is quiet, the only sound your heavy breathing mingling as he takes off your shirt and you unbutton his jeans. Shyly you undress before he climbs over you, and you run your hands over his chest, his body just lean muscle. Hanging on a thin chain is a red jewel, and you pause to examine it as he cages you in with his arms. “This is beautiful,” you whisper, but he cuts off any other remarks with another kiss.

His eyes are intense as he slides between your thighs. “Open for me,” he whispers. The red pendant hangs between you, the bedroom light making it sparkle just a bit, and when he lowers against you it presses firm and cool against your breasts. It’s your first time, and you wonder if it’s his too, but you’re too scared to ask because neither answer will honestly make you happy. So you pull him into another kiss as the head of him nudges against your opening, sighing into his mouth as he presses inside.

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Vergil sits on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees, and thinks. Sleeping on a mattress had felt almost foreign to him, it had been so long; even on the nights when he ended up in a shelter or crashing at someone’s place, it was on the floor, or at most a couch. A real bed with a real pillow and blanket had given him a strange sort of unease, so he had spent most of the night watching you sleep, pleased with that at least.

The clock on the bedside table reads ten minutes until seven. He should go, but he is reluctant. It is bitterly cold outside, telltale frost on the window that shows the temperature is below freezing. It’s also Saturday, which means that the places he would normally go to, like the library or the mall, will open later than normal. He is also wary of running into someone on the way out and getting you in trouble. Even though he knows the way through your house already, having memorized it like second nature on the way in, a wayward creaky step or a loose board in the floor could alert someone he is there, and that would be disaster.

Most of all, though, he doesn’t want to leave you. Vergil glances over to see you still asleep, his lips curling into a small smile as he presses his mouth to his fingers. Last night had been… unexpected. But it was exciting and lovely and your kindness in giving him a place to stay was only second to how amazed he had been when you kissed him. He is always amazed by you: like a bright star, he thinks, something that gives life and warmth. But he is cautious, always cautious, because too much sun could burn.

Something shifts in the house, prickling along the back of his neck, and Vergil knows he made the right choice. A few minutes later there are footsteps in the hallway below, a door opening and closing, running water. Some muffled words and more footsteps, then the house falls quiet again, whoever it had been visiting the bathroom now back to sleep. Still, his presence is dangerous for them both, and they could have easily met on his way out.

You shift on the bed, your hand sliding along the bedsheet in your sleep. Deciding on staying, he lays back down, folding his arm around you to pull you against his chest. You are wearing one of his shirts, something that had made him snort when you asked, but it was endearing and Vergil was happy to lend something. Your legs curl around his and he sighs, trying to enjoy the peace and quiet.

How long has it been for him to have such a moment? Childhood, probably, before Dante would wake up in a ball of frenetic energy and tear through the house, feet slapping on the floor and his voice echoing down the hallway. Vergil would lay in bed like this, or sit on the windowsill, watching the snow fall or the leaves dance on the wind or the flowers peek out from the tree outside his window. Dante’s room was across the hall, but that had been Vergil’s place to himself, his thinking spot.

He looks out the window, swallowing uncomfortably at the memory. The last time Vergil had been in his room, he was looking for a tennis set. He had found one of the rackets but not the other, and he huffed around his room in frustration, debating if it would be worth checking Dante’s. Dante could never clean up after himself, and searching his room would be doomed from the start.

Deciding to check the backyard, Vergil had hopped down the steps, wondering where his brother had gone off to. Once he found the other racket his plan was to make Dante play a few games, knowing he could beat him easily. They were evenly matched at most things, but Dante was always better at sports than Vergil: except tennis, which is why it was his favorite game.

You shift next to him, and Vergil realizes he is holding you a bit too tightly. He eases his grip, pushing away the next set of memories of what happened as he hunted through the sandbox for the missing racket. His fingers are trembling, but he forces them to relax, finally rubbing soft circles on your lower back as you open your eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey,” he says back.

You yawn and press closer. “I half expected you to be gone,” you say sleepily.

Vergil chuckles. “I thought about it. But I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Good.”

He sighs, going back to staring out the window as you doze off. An hour slips by with him lost in his thoughts before you stir again, stretching your limbs before turning to smile up at him. “Hey again,” Vergil says.

“Do you want to hang out today?” you ask.

His brows dart up in surprise. “Sure, I think? You mean here?”

You shrug. “As long as we’re quiet. No one comes up here. You can stay here if they call me for something.”

Vergil nods, but doesn’t let himself get excited. Another night or two under a roof is too much to think about. Instead he rolls a bit to cover you with his body, his hand firm on your hip.

You sigh and press your face into his neck, and Vergil swallows thickly. Holding you like this, the only person who has ever been so kind to him… it’s a bit overwhelming, and he needs to take a few minutes to ground himself. Being alone has always been the plan: it’s safer, less messy, less likely to attract the demons who inevitably find him. Whenever there has been a bystander who gets in the way it just brings trouble, so Vergil makes it a point to stay away from humans as much as possible, venturing near them only when he needs something.

But you… his thumb runs circles on your hip before his palm slides up to your waist. You are small and fragile and wouldn’t stand a chance against the things that hunt him, but staying away from you seems impossible now.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask quietly. “Seems like you’re thinking about something.”

Vergil shakes his head. As he bends down to press his lips to yours, there is a drop of emotion that feels unwelcome: fear. He had long ago stopped being afraid, years on his own teaching him that only strength and discipline matter, that hesitation and fear only brought weakness. And weakness means death.

“Vergil,” you sigh, and he kisses you again, firmer this time as he presses one leg between your thighs. Arms wrap around him as fingers slide into his hair, the sensation thrilling and soothing at the same time. His heart is racing as his hand reaches out to grab the bedsheet with a fierce grip.

Beneath the surface of his skin and muscle something pulses in his blood, something he has felt for years but cannot name, something wrapped up in his DNA. All he knows is the drive to unlock it, whatever it is, but it has never been so clear or so fierce. Vergil has the sensation that whatever part of himself is still hidden is just out of reach, but being with you here brings it closer than ever, and he wonders if you could be the key. Anxiety mixes with desire and it is confusing and terrifying but he wants more of it, more of you.

The bedroom door slams open and you both break apart, jolting with the sound. Your hands press to his chest, pushing him off, and you slowly rise to take in the half-dressed and half-drunk man that stumbles in the door. “What the fuck is this?” he growls, pointing at Vergil. “Who the fuck are you?”

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, trying to push around Vergil. “He’s a friend of mine, and needed a place—”

“Fucking slut! You brought a boy home to fuck in my house?” he shouts. He takes another step forward, swaying slightly as his words slur. “Your mother’s too soft on you, I been saying it. After I kick his ass I’m gonna teach you a lesson, whore.”

Vergil can feel you go tense behind him, a little noise escaping. But he feels settled, faced with a threat he can understand, and he shakes off your grip to step into the middle of the room. “Disgusting pig,” Vergil spits, scoffing when the man gapes at him. “Turn around and leave if you know what’s good for you.”

The man lets go a string of curses that are barely coherent before he crashes forward, swinging. Vergil easily sidesteps him, his reflexes quick as he grabs him by the back of the neck and launches him towards the floor. He bounces against the wood, shouting as his chin cracks open, and when he rolls Vergil kicks him in the stomach.

“Vergil! Stop it!”

Your voice is the only thing that stops him. It pulls Vergil back from where he kneels over the man, fist raised to connect with his face. Vergil takes a few deep breaths, feeling the pulse of his power subside to a manageable level, and beyond that, the taste of what he cannot unlock, taunting him to hit the drunk and see what happens.

The stepfather looks up with wide eyes, as if shocked that he is on the floor, and Vergil makes a face. He reeks of beer and his face and neck are smeared with blood, two things Vergil hates. He stares back, jaw tightened as he grits his teeth; but as he lowers his fist he sees a bit of red tingeing the corners of the man’s eyes.

It is not the red of a night of drinking or of stumbling bleary-eyed from sleep: it is the red flash of a demon.

He stands and hauls the stepfather up, ignoring your protests. “Stay here,” he barks, dragging the man out and down the attic steps.

Once they hit the hallway, Vergil uses his real strength to slam him against the wall, nearly hearing his teeth rattle. He lifts the man easily and leans forward to threaten him. “I know what you are,” Vergil growls.

“What—”

“I can see you,” he seethes, talking to the demon. “This human left himself wide open with his vileness, didn’t he? So you listen.” The stepfather holds his breath as Vergil’s grip tightens. “Make sure he leaves her alone. Don’t speak to her, don’t look at her. Or I’ll come back and take care of you as well, understand?”

The man nods, so Vergil lowers him slowly. He lifts a hand to wipe blood from his mouth, and after shooting him a glare he pushes past and into the bathroom, slamming the door. Tension radiates through Vergil’s body but he purposely keeps it in check, taking his own moment before climbing the stairs back to the attic.

He finds you sitting on the bed, clutching the blanket tightly. “What happened?” you whisper.

“Nothing. He won’t bother you.” Vergil grabs his bag before moving to where his boots lay, leaning over to pull the laces. “I should go. I’ll see you—”

“Wait!” You run over and launch yourself, catching Vergil around the waist. He looks down in surprise as you hug him tightly, damp face pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmur.

Vergil tilts your face up with a frown. He looks at your eyes, eyes that are free from any trace of demon, before stroking your cheek. “You don’t have to go,” you say, and Vergil nods, knowing that leaving is impossible now.

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Birthday Treats ~ Doctor!Bucky x OC!Hope

A/N: I’ll edit this later. but HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WHIPPERSNAPPER DAUGHTER AJ! @captainscanadian​

Summary: A Birthday full of surprises

“Did you have fun tonight, beautiful?” Bucky asked as he handed Hope a glass of wine.

“I did. It was perfect. I’m so glad everyone made it out.”

He settled onto the couch next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she draped the blanket over his legs.

“Me too. It was great to have the crew together. But do you know what I’m even more excited about?”

She grinned and batted her eyelashes at him. “What’s that?”

“Spending a whole week alone with you.”

“I can’t wait. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“You’re a PhD student, baby. You’re supposed to be busy. I’m just glad that I get to spoil you for your birthday.”

“You always spoil me.”

She leaned over for a kiss which Bucky immediately deepened. They were making out when the clock struck twelve and Bucky grinned against her lips.

“Happy birthday, Hope.”

“Best start to a birthday ever.”

Hope woke up in Bucky’s bed slowly. No alarm, no emergency call for Bucky, just warm sunlight. She reached out for her boyfriend only to find his side of the bed empty.

“Bucky, babe?” she called as she sat up and looked around.

“Be right there.”

His footsteps were quick and distinctive as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“Good morning, gorgeous. Happy birthday!” he cheered as he backed into the room, carrying a tray with her favorite breakfast.

“Well isn’t this a nice surprise.I thought we were going to grab something quick on the road?”

“Check in isn’t until three. I figured we could relax and cuddle before we head up to Vermont.”

“Sounds ideal. Come on over.”

She patted the bed as he dragged the side table over to set the food on before placing a box wrapped in sparkling red paper in her lap and climbing into bed beside her.

“Another present?”

“Jazz dropped it off this morning.”

“You realize you’re going to be finding glitter in your bed for like months, right?”

“Oh yeah. I’m sending Jazz the dry cleaning bill,” Bucky chuckled. “Go ahead and open it, doll.”

Hope tore off the paper and lifted the lid off the box. There was a note inside.

Shipping cut it close. Technically it was late, but I wanted to make sure you had this for your vacation. Enjoy your time off, sweetheart. You deserve it! Love you bunches!

Xoxo, Jazz

Smiling, Hope opened the tissue paper beaming when she saw what lay inside.

“Awww. Jazz. She’s so sweet.”

“What did she get you?” he asked as he leaned over her shoulder.

“She bought me the jean jacket I wanted. It’s the exact wash to match my favorite jeans.”

“That’s awesome.”

Hope hopped off the bed and pulled on the jacket over her pajamas.

Perfect fit. “Will you take a picture for me?”

Bucky already had his phone out.  She posed with a big grin as Bucky snapped a few shots. Picking her favorite, she sent it to her best friend with a thank you.

Bucky and Hope took their time getting ready to head up to Vermont. They’d have left an hour earlier if they hadn’t spent so much time making out, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. They spent the drive singing along to the playlist Bucky had made of their favorites.

“Awww it’s so cute,” she cooed when they pulled up to the bed and breakfast.

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s go get checked in.”

He helped her out of the car and laced their fingers together as they walked into the main house where a kind looking man was humming to himself behind the desk.

“Welcome to the Pine Tree Inn. I’m Scott, how can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Bucky and this is my girlfriend, Hope. We’re checking in. The reservation should be under Barnes.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Barnes. Welcome, both of you.”

He selected a key off the wall and another set from a drawer placed them both on the counter.

“I’ll just have you sign here. You are in cottage number four. It’s just down the lane. There’s a parking spot out front. And the transport accomodations are in the garage right behind the main house.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

“I’m sure we will. Thank you.”

Bucky handed Hope the keys and grabbed their bags.

“Transportation accomodations?” she asked once they were back in the car and driving down the lane.

He shrugged, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Just wanted something a little more appropriate for the location.”

“Worried about getting your precious Audi dirty?” she teased.”

“No. You’ll see tomorrow. Let’s settle in before dinner.”

“Yes, sir.”

The cottage was lovely. It had a small kitchen area and a living room, with a fireplace. The bathroom had a big clawfoot bathtub and the bedroom had one full wall of windows that opened up onto a balcony, with a view of the foliage.

“Do you like it?”

Bucky asked as he leaned his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“This is beautiful. I love it.”

“I’m glad, doll. Happy birthday. The fridge is already stocked. I figured we could have an easy night tonight. I’ll make us some dinner then we can take a bath and-”

“Make out in front of the fire?”

Bucky smirked.

“If that’s what my girl wants.”

She nodded, grinning as she turned in his arms.

“Can we start now?”

Bucky answered with a kiss.

Bucky whistled as he spun the set of keys around his fingers the next morning.

“Let’s see this appropriate ride.”

Bucky chuckled and reached for her hand.

“Come on miss sass. You’re gonna like this.”

Interlacing their fingers, Hope happily followed Bucky around the house to the garage. He slid up the garage door and Hope froze when she saw what was sitting inside.

“Doll?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. This is what you wanted right?”

She threw her arms around him and kissed him all over his face.

“It’s perfect. But do you really know how to drive one?”

Pulling out his wallet, he handed her his license. A new license. For a motorcycle.

“When did you do this?”

“Over the summer. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

“I-.” She stopped short of telling him she loved him. “Thank you, Bucky.”  

“Are you ready for an adventure?”

“With you? Always.”

Bucky handed her the helmet before putting on his own and swinging a leg over the bike. He patted the seat behind him and winked at her.

“Hope on, Doll. Let’s go for a ride.”

Hope held onto his waist as they  took off and they spent the rest of the morning driving through the wilds of Vermont, stopping every now and then to take pictures of the foliage.

“The exit for the highway isn’t for a few miles,” Hope commented when Bucky turned off the road.

“We’ve got one more stop before we head home.”

“How can you possibly have more surprises?”

“I’m just that good.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Cocky.”

“Confident.”

“Mhmm.”

Bucky pulled off the road towards a farm.

“You’re taking me to a farm?”

“Not just any farm.”

He grinned and nodded his head toward the sign.

“Maple syrup?!”

“Wanted to bring you a little bit of home. And if I timed this correctly. We should be just in time to make some maple candy.”

Hope’s bottom lip trembled as she teared.

“You are the most perfect boyfriend ever.”

“Hope, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you.”

Her breath hitched.

“I love you too.”

A/N: Taglist to be added later! Happy birthday love. I hope you enjoyed this! 

[bangchanshehe]

The Vacation pt. 3

You always had a fantasy of hooking up with a perfect stranger while on vacation, and what better place to make that happen than Cabo San Lucas? A bachelorette party was already supposed to be wild and unforgettable, so why not take it up a notch?

Word Count: 3.6k 

I’m a little tipsy so if there are errors or typos don’t come for me please.

The alarm clock on your phone rang out in your ears causing you and your roommate to groan out loud. You searched for your phone with your hand, unwilling to open your eyes just yet and let out a loud sigh when the screeching noise came to a halt. You stretched out in the bed sheets, enjoying the feel of the luxury cotton across your bare limbs before you rubbed your eyes and finally opened them.

You looked across the bed to the night stand that separated you and your roommate to see that it was now 4:31. You sat up and looked down at your friend sleeping like a baby still and you giggled at her. You had come in from the pool and were adamant about taking a shower before getting in bed, but she was too drunk to care about the cleanliness of her sheets.

She laid on the bed, on top of her sheets in her bathing suit, starfished out and completely comfortable. You mentally told yourself that you were going to give her another 15 minutes of rest before you woke her up. At least that would allow you to get a head start on some mirror space.

You picked up your hotel phone and called the room down the hall to wake the rest of the girls up and to your surprise your best friend answered the phone sounding completely lucid.

“are you guys up?” you asked her concerned that you would have to go beg the lobby for a spare key and wake each girl up personally.

“of course, we pretty much just took a little power nap, ate and then had coffee.” She said as if it were no big deal

“okay good, I just wanted to make sure that no one would sleep through dinner” you chuckled to yourself, imagining yourself sitting alone at a dinner table for four.

“see you in a little bit” you said to her before you put the phone back in its cradle.

You looked back over at your roommate again and your mind wondered off to the rest of the time spent at the pool.

Kai had introduced everyone in the pool to the three of you girls and you found out that they came from Seoul, South Korea. Which it wasn’t surprising to you at all because you could hear that they were speaking Korean, something that you could now pick up on since your best friend’s soon to be husband was Korean and frequently spoke it.

They didn’t say much about what they did other than entertainment and again you weren’t surprised to hear it at all. All nine of the men at the pool looked like handsome celebrities with their perfect skin, beautiful hair and well-maintained bodies.

You had discussed what each of you did back home in the states and the men were surprised to hear that you were an elementary school teacher.

You chuckled once to yourself and sighed before getting up and going to the bathroom mirror. You looked over your features and smiled at how glowy your skin looked only after an hour of some sunshine. You looked down at your makeup bag and frowned. How in the hell were you going to get ready for an exciting night out when you literally had no makeup other than moisturizer, cc cream and Chapstick?

You ran back to the bedside phone and called your best friend’s room again hoping that she’d pick up.

“hello?” she asked

“hey, it’s me again! are you guys still getting ready because I need some help.” You asked her hoping not to wakeup your sleeping roommate.

“no were all ready. Why? Do you want me to do your makeup or something?” she asked with excitement in her tone.

She had always wanted to do your make up and you smiled to yourself knowing that she was screaming on the inside

“and my hair if possible, please!” you added

She let out a muffled squeal and you chuckled

“bitch, get your ass down here now!” he said through her laughter

You quickly hung up the phone, woke up your roommate, grabbed a key card and ran down the hall in your Pajamas.

You were surprised with how fast and simple the makeup was, thinking that if your best friend ever got a hold of your face that she would go all out. But instead, she just enhanced your features, making your eyes pop and sparkle, your cheeks were defined and highlighted, and your lips were a beautiful shade of mauve pink.

She had curled your hair and brushed it out in a way that it would become old Hollywood looking waves and set it in place with about a pound of hairspray.

“I always thought that you would do so much more…” you said to her looking at your face in the mirror

“why do you not like it?” she asked concerned

“no, I look so good. I just figured that you’d give me like a Jefferey star type of look” you said chuckling

She scoffed “no, no! you already have such a pretty face, and having too much makeup I feel like would take away from how pretty you are naturally” she explained

You got up from the bathtub where you sat while she pampered you and you gave her a big hug.

“thanks! I’m gonna go get changed” you said grabbing your key card

You sped walked down the hallway once more and hung your head when you saw people walking down to go to their rooms. You shoved the key card in the door and got in as fast as you could. You were sure that the people in the hallway found it suspicious, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

You waked over to your suitcase and pulled out your night looks that you had packed. You were thankful at this moment that you allowed your friend to go shopping with you to pick out clothes and you looked over all of the dresses that she had chosen for you. You pulled out a black dress that hugged your figure and a pair of black suede wedges. It was something that you typically would never wear, but after showing off you figure at the beach you were sure that you could feel confident in it. you grabbed your favorite pair of oversized studs, put them on, and looked at yourself in the mirror.

You couldn’t believe that this woman in the reflection was you. I mean sure you looked like yourself physically, but what you didn’t realize was that the makeup, hair, and outfit all together made you look so… elevated and classy. Feeling so bold and beautiful, you felt an overwhelming confidence boost with everything on!

You peeked in the bathroom to see your roommate putting on perfume and setting spray. She was just about done with her own routine and you checked your phone for the time.

“we’ve got about five minutes till we need to go downstairs” you told her

She turned to smile at you and thank you, but she stopped in shock and turned to you with a giant grin. She looked you up and down and when she was completely sure that it was you, she faced you again.

“holy shit you look so good!” she said, happy for you

“thanks” you said with a giggle

You walked back over to your luggage and looked for a bag that was good enough to go with your outfit that could carry all of your necessities. While you packed the time quickly flied by, and you were called by the girls to let you know that they were on their way down the lobby to pick out a restaurant.

You told your roommate and she finished what she was doing and soon the both of you were down stairs with the rest of the girls, anxiously picking out a restaurant.

“okay so what do we want? They’ve got Mexican food, there’s an Italian restaurant, and a sushi bar” your best friend said, listing out the restaurants that were in your hotel for the guests to use.

“mexian” all of you nearly said at once and you giggled

You took an elevator ride to the restaurant level of the hotel and when it opened and concoction of smells hit your nose all at once making your mouth water. Your group quickly walked over the restaurant of your choice and were given a seat.

There were many guests inside and you were practically drooling as you looked over the menu and eyed food as it passed by your table. You were eyeing your surroundings when you noticed a large table of men sitting in the corner. You eyed their clothes and hair before you realized that they were kai and his friends from the pool.

You gasped when you locked eyes with kai himself and quickly hid your face in your menu.

“what’s wrong?” your best friend asked

You didn’t respond but tried to nonchalantly point out the men to her and as her eyes wondered over to their table she let out a hum and nodded her head. You were going to say something when you felt your phone vibrate and you quickly pulled it out to see who would be texting you since everyone knew that you were overseas.

UNKOWN NUMBER: you look amazing

You quickly snapped your head up to look over at kai’s table once more and your blushed when kai met your gaze, smiled and then winked at you.

A sweet waitress came over, blocking your view of him and waited to take your order on food and drinks. Your table ordered as much food that would make them happy and you sighed to yourself thinking about how much it would cost even if you split everything down the middle.

The waitress thanked you and then walked back to the kitchen to give them the order. You followed her with your gaze, not noticing that kai was walking over to your table.  

“hey there beautiful” she said with a sly grin

You nearly choked on your spit and turned to him with wide eyes “hello”

He stood next to you and put his hand on top of your chair to rest his weight on and you watched him as he smiled at all of the ladies at your table, letting his charm sink in to each one of them. “what are you ladies doing after dinner?” he asked no one in particular

“we’re going to go on the bar hopping tour” your best friend spoke up giving you a smile before turning her attention to him

“really?” he asked with a grin “we are too! What time are you leaving?” he asked

“we’re leaving at 11” your roommate said with a megawatt smile

Kai laughed and looked down at you with a shit eating grin “well then I guess I’ll see you guys there”

“your going too?” you asked him confused that things were lining up so perfectly

He nodded at you “they do more than one group at once beautiful, plus they go on the same route.” He explained. He looked down your figure once and then looked back up to the girls at your group “I’ll let you ladies enjoy your dinner. See you later” he said waving before heading back to his table with eight other men turned around, anxiously waiting for him to return.

It was nearly 11 o’clock and you and the girls were waiting for the tour to start in the lobby bar, sipping drinks and laughing at each other’s stories. You were excited to finally get out of the hotel and see a bit more of the street style and night life that Mexico had to offer. As the minutes ticked by you looked around the lobby and still saw no sigh of Kai and his friends, and you were wondering if they had decided to not come after all.

“the van is ready for your tour ladies” a friendly receptionist said to the four of you and gestured to a van with its doors open

All of you shot up from your places at the bar and walked over to the van in excitement. As you climbed in you were in awe of show shiny and polished the van looked. You took a two seater section of the van and you and your best friend quickly sat down, leaving the other two girls to clam the last empty two seater.

You were half expecting for him to shut the door and take off to get the tour started, but he stood outside of the van and waited for more people to come. You and the girls waited for a minute, filling the car with useless chit chat about nothing when you finally saw the boys walking out of the lobby and to their van which was directly behind yours.

All four of you turned around and peeked through the tinted windows and watched as the boys filled the van one by one. They somehow managed to look even better in clothes than they did in their bathing suits and it completely baffled you. It was like everything that they wore no matter how simple in theory that it was, it looked like it was expensive and luxurious on their figures.

You were wrapped up in your own thoughts when the driver asked you ladies a question, leaving you completely unaware of what was about to happen.

“thanks for sharing with us” kai said with a wide smile as he stepped into the van

Your head snapped to the front and you stared at him with wide eyes. What the hell was he doing here? You thought to yourself, until you saw one more man come onto the van behind Kai. You instantly recognized him as the man who seemed bored at the pool, and again as he entered the van he gave all of you a curt nod of his head in thanks and then immediately turned away.

“how was your dinner?” kai asked turned around in his seat to look at all of you

The girls all answered him with different opinions, but you didn’t say anything. You were way too distracted by the way that Kai’s friend turned to glare at him as he continued to talk to you. Kai smiled politely but turned his head to his friend when he noticed that you were looking at him.

“sorry this is my friend Sehun” he explained with his hands gesturing to the man next to him

You all gave him a warm smile and in turn he looked back to smile at everyone in the van. When he locked eyes with you his smile slowly faltered and he quickly turned away, leaving you more confused than ever. You could usually tell if someone was being shy or not and he seemed like he was just being plain rude. Sure, you didn’t expect him to immediately befriend you or be exceptionally friendly, but his lack of enthusiasm or interest just seemed rude.

The driver closed the door to the van and walked over to the driver’s seat. he turned on the car and then announced that he was ready to take us to the first location. The girls cheered and hollered, and kai smiled at their silly behavior.

As everyone talked among themselves you stared out the window and looked at everything that you passed by, interested more in the what was outside of the van. You didn’t know how long you were zoned out watching what was outside, but when the van came to a halt in front of a bar that had a Egyptian theme you were suddenly aware of how crowded and packed everything was.

The front of the club was open, leaving a small iron rod fence to separate the front of the club and the outdoors. As you peered inside you saw countless bodies dancing on each other on the dance floor and you gulped. Over at the bar there were even more people waiting in a mess of a line to get their drinks and you sighed. Sure it looked like it would be a great place to start since the atmosphere was so great, but it was also going to be bitch of a time to move or get around in the place.

As you got out of the van you and the rest of the men got out of the second van you could see women and men turn and stare at everyone. You could hear some women gasp and turn to their friends to talk about how good looking the men were, but the boys ignored it like they were completely used to it.

Everyone was walking into the bar and you followed behind slowly until you felt an arm on your waist pulling you in. you turned to see kai smiling down at you

“stay close, there’s a lot of people and I don’t want to get separated from you” he said loud enough so you could hear over the booming music

You nodded your head and gave him a small smile in return. All of you were escorted to a private booth that the men paid for and you were very gracious towards them for being willing to share it with you and your friends.

You all took a seat at the booth and a waitress quickly came over to receive drink orders from everyone. As menus were passed around you gladly took one but as you were trying to focus you could feel eyes watching you. You glanced up to see Kai watching you and as you shifted your gaze you also saw Sehun staring at you intensely.

You pointed at what drink you wanted and the waitress quickly left to fulfill the tables order. As you were waiting some of the men got up to dance and some stayed behind just enjoying the atmosphere of the club. For those who stayed you got to know each other a little bit better and you slowly became more comfortable with the men at the table. All except for the ever so quiet Sehun.

When the drinks arrived back at the table you quickly grabbed yours and drank it to keep your buzz from the hotel. You didn’t get another drink and decided that you and the girls would want to get out of the booth and dance for a bit.

Your hips swayed to the beat and you laughed with each other as you made fun of each other’s dance moves or extreme people on the dance floor. After a few songs you were starting to get sweaty and tired so you decided to got back to the booth to get a glass of water.

As you sat down and took a long gulp Kai, moved in uncomfortably closer to you. He rested his arm behind you at the back of the booth and he leaned in to whisper into your ear.

“you and your friends look really good out there” he complimented

“thanks!” you practically yelled back over the music giving him a small smile

You got one final swig of your water and then pointed back to the dance floor, ready to get back out on your feet. You scurried back over to where your friends were on the dance floor and wasn’t at all surprised when you found them all partnered up with someone to dance with.

You smiled at their ability to charm men everywhere that they went and then you danced awkwardly by yourself around them. you tried your best to ignore the fact that you were dancing alone and probably looked weird by yourself, and really felt the music allowing it to flow through you.

That is until you felt a firm pair of arms wrap around you and pull you into a toned and muscular chest. you gasped and looked behind you to find and attractive man, who you hadn’t seen before smile down at you

He said something over the music to you in a foreign language and you couldn’t understand what he was saying so you looked up at him with wide confused eyes unsure of what to do. Instead you just nodded your head and turned back around to laugh with your friends who were watching you with wide eyes and open jaws.

After what felt like ages of dancing the men met you and the girls on the dance floor and asked if you were ready to move on to the next bar. You all eagerly said yes, ready to move onto something new and fresh. But when you smiled over to the men, adrenaline and alcohol pulsing through your veins you noticed that Kai was acting suspiciously weird.

You jumped into the van noticing that this time kai went in the other van instead of yours as you moved on to the next location. When you arrived you all laughed at the bar’s disco and cow themed interior, excited to get out and join the crowd once more.

You all shuffled inside the club and immediately headed straight to the nearly empty bar. You almost immediately got your drinks and then found a comfortable place to sit. Accept this time you found that most of the men didn’t want to sit at this club. Now that almost everyone had a decent buzz, the boys were out flirting and dancing with girls, including Kai who glared at you as he danced with a gorgeous exotic looking brunette on the dance floor.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.IV

Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.

AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!

ch.III - ch.V

~~~~~~~~~~

A loud bang scared the kids awake. Mabel pushed her messy brown hair out of her eyes and Dipper had to take a moment to remember where he was and why he was here. They looked at the door to find Stan the beast standing there with a scowl on his face. “OY! Rise and shine, runts! Hurry up and do your chores, and maybe I'll think about giving you breakfast. Food tastes better after you work for it, anyway.”

Mabel quickly tied her hair back with her pink handkerchief. “Oui, Monsieur Stan.” she said as she jumped down. Dipper frowned at the beast as he left the kids alone to get up; he suspected this kind of behavior, but it didn’t mean he liked it. The twins quickly got dressed and they found Wendy at the bottom of the stairs. “Good, you’re up.” She led the way through and said, “Before breakfast, you two need to dust and sweep the front door. After breakfast, you’ll move to the ballroom and clean the whole thing, even climb up to the chandeliers and get the cobwebs out. Cleaning that whole mess’ll take all day. You got it?” “Don’t you worry, Madame Wendy!” Mabel said as she grabbed a broom and handed a duster to her brother, both tools waiting for them by the exit. “Eyes on the prize!” Dipper and Mabel went outside and met chilly air with a bright sun. On the stony entrance, they warmed up like lizards on rocks and got to work, sweeping fallen leaves away and dusting the lamps so they shined brighter. Dipper paused his work at the handle of one lantern and awed. “Wow, Mabel, come look at this. The way the metal swirls… the colors… This place really is beautiful.” Mabel looked at what her brother was looking at and smiled. “You’re right, Dip-Dip. All this place needs is a little love.” And she swept a pile of leaves off onto the ground to further prove her point, showing a shiny, pretty entrance. Dipper looked up at the tall towers and the enormous castle. He remembered what Soos said yesterday and he speculated out-loud, “I wonder what kind of mysteries are in this place. I have so many questions. Like, how is this even possible? Who exactly is Stan? Did he just come across this place and made it his home? And what about the talking furniture and tools and stuff?” Mabel leaned against the broom. “Those are great questions. Maybe after chores we can explore!” “Maybe…” “BREAKFAST!” The grandfather clock by the door screamed. “Great!” Mabel cheered and hurried inside. Once again, when the kids saw that Stan was nowhere to be seen, Mabel led the way up to his room. Dipper was more hesitant, but he did agree with his twin that Stan should eat. Maybe he just wasn’t a breakfast person. At the first door on the stairwell, advised not to go farther by Soos last night, Mabel knocked cheerfully. “Monsieur Stan, breakfast’s ready! Wanna eat with us?” Dipper crossed his arms over his chest. It took a few moments for the doors to open but when they did Mabel was grinning. Stan shrugged casually. “Sure. I could use some more coffee.” After eggs with toast and hot tea for the kids and black coffee for the beast, Dipper and Mabel went off to clean the ballroom. They gasped at the vast room with the huge balcony and even Dipper had to admit he was looking forward to making this place sparkle and shine. The ceiling was at least forty feet high and the room was a beautiful circle with a thirty-feet long diameter. By the wall, on their left, stood a grand piano. Mabel dropped her bucket of cleaning supplies and rushed to the musical instrument and found, oddly enough, that it was the only thing not dusty. Someone must come in often to play it. “Dipper, look! A real piano to play! I haven’t seen one since our last playdate with Gideon.” “Me, neither.” Dipper joined his sister and silently ran his fingers over the keys. The piano opened her eyes by the music-sheet stand and giggled. “Oh! That tickles!” Dipper’s face turned red and he pulled away his hand with a yell of shock. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” “Hi, I’m Mabel!” The girl greeted. “This is Dipper!” “Bonjour! I’m Melody! Want some music while you work?” “Yes, yes! Fiddleford says cleaning is fun with music. Here, do you know this song?” She pressed a key to find a note and began to sing before playing the piano. “Every task you undertake, becomes a piece of cake! A lark! A spree! It's very clear to see that…” The girl dragged on, and Melody the piano picked it up. “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down-wown, medicine go down! Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in a most delightful way!” Mabel picked up a duster and she and Dipper quickly got to work, the piano playing songs and singing beautifully, whether the kids sang along or not. ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan waited for some words to form on the page after spilling about everything. Bits and pieces were suddenly making sense, leaving the other half of the conversation shocked. Stanley, It took a moment for more words to form after that. Stan could almost hear his brother’s desperate, low tone. Have you considered the idea that these children may help us break the curse? “I may be an idiot, Sixer, but I’m not stupid.” Stan growled. The journal was still once more for a few moments. I know it is dangerous to hope, but they could help. Stan didn’t respond. He looked away. The journal waited for a response, but soon the beast slowly rose his head, his ears flicking with faint sound. “Hold up.” Stan stood from his armchair. “Is that… music?” Stan opened the door, now only one corridor blocking the sound, and he growled. “What are those kids up to now?” Stanley, Luckily the beast caught the sudden appearance of words out of the corner of his eye. Let it play. I haven’t heard music in so long. Stan looked at that sentence sorrowfully, sighed, and sat back in his chair, letting the music barely seep into the West Wing. ~~~~~~~~~~ He almost requested to be moved out of the West Wing and down to meet the children, but that was out of the question. He knew there was no way Stanley would let him leave the safety of this room. It was suffocating. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel and Dipper accepted the glasses of water from Candy in the afternoon, sweaty and dirty from the dust, but they were happy with their work. The room was just too big for two kids to get it all done in one day, but they got a lot done and though Dipper’s arms ached and Mabel was sneezing from the dust, they were proud. The door opened wider and the beast was there. He looked over the room and down at the kids. Dipper readied himself to be scolded for not getting it all done, but Stan snorted a smile. “That’s impressive, kids. Good job. Still got your work cut out for you, though.” Mabel saluted like they were in the army. “We’ll get it done, Monsieur Stan!” Stan waved her promise away nonchalantly. “Well, dinner’ll be ready by the time you two have a bath. You two need it.” Mabel sneezed and giggled, admitted that Stan was right, and he left them alone again. At dinner, Dipper decided to test his luck and ask a question. “Monsieur Stan, can we go find Fiddleford?” Stan raised an eyebrow. “That your friend?” “Yes.” Dipper nodded. “Please, what if he’s hurt or he can’t find us. I bet together we could find him.” “Yeah!” Mabel said encouragingly. “Please, please, please Monsieur Stan!” “No.” Stan said firmly and then spoke in a calmer tone. “It’s too dangerous out there. You kids were almost killed. You’re staying here.” “But what if Fiddleford is in danger?” Dipper asked; he didn’t want to bring up the possibility or worry Mabel, but he had to be realistic. Mabel’s smile dropped and she looked devastated at the idea. “I said no, kid.” Stan growled. “It’s best if you stay here and let this guy find you. Didn’t your parents ever teach you to do that when you get lost? You stay still and don’t move until someone finds you.” Mabel bit her lip and looked down at her plate. Dipper scowled at the beast for hurting his sister, even if unintentionally, and he muttered bitterly, “Our parents are dead.” Stan looked down at the children sympathetically and a compassionate sound rumbled in his chest, but was very quiet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “It’s okay.” Mabel said at once, picking up the regret in his voice. “We were only babies. That’s why Fiddleford takes care of us.” Stan gave it some thought. He watched as Dipper took one of Mabel’s hands and squeezed it. She smiled at him and held his hand even tighter. Stan smiled a little at that, reminded of another set of twins, and he said, “Well, I don’t know much about good parenting, but I’d bet this Fiddlebucket guy would want you safe in a castle instead of out looking for him in the woods. I’m sure he’ll find this place soon and take you home.” “Merci, Monsieur Stan,” Mabel said, smiling at him. “For letting us stay here.” Stan stood and headed towards the exit. “Heck, I should be thanking you knuckleheads for being willing to stay with a monster and not cut off his head.” Mabel’s heart dropped. She opened her mouth to correct him, but the door was closed and he was gone. Two more days passed, each just the same as the last, except the beast and the children were becoming more comfortable with each other. Telling stories and jokes, getting to know each other more than just sad, lost children and a lonely, scary beast. Still, every night, Dipper and Mabel begged to look for Fiddleford, and every time they asked Stan got angrier. Dipper was bold enough to try his luck again, and when he did, Stan slammed his claws on the table so hard it broke several dishes and made the kids still as stone. “FINE!” He roared and he stood up. “Fine, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna go look for him and bring him here. You two, STAY HERE! DO NOT leave this castle! Understand?” Dipper just scowled at the beast. Mabel found it in here to nod. Stan left quickly, too angry to admit that he was losing his temper, but he managed to catch a tiny voice saying “merci” before he was out of the room. Dipper gave his sister a look and shook his head. He wasn’t going to thank the beast until they were reunited with Fiddleford again. The twins settled in the living room, by the fire. Mabel was bored, antsy, and wanted to do something fun. She wished she had some knitting with her. The last few days they told stories with Stan or jokes or played games, but with him gone and the uncertainty of him coming back with Fiddleford hanging over their heads, the kids were silent for awhile. “Hey, Dipper? Wanna read a book? I bet Soos or Wendy could find us one.” “No thanks.” “How about we play music in the ballroom.” “I’m sick of the ballroom right now.” Dipper sat up straighter on the couch (before being slouched over with his chin on his fist) and he suggested, “Let’s go exploring. No one ever told us we couldn’t.” Mabel smiled and hopped down from the couch. “Okay!” The kids had already seen their bedroom, the washroom, the dining hall, the ballroom, and the living room. So where to explore next? They wandered up the stairs, looking at old paintings and decoration. They were heading towards the door they usually knocked on for Stan and decided to venture on, agreeing that if it looked like they were reaching his bedroom, they would stop and turn around. “This castle is like a dream.” Mabel said as she twirled on the spot. Dipper pulled the door open and gasped. “Or a nightmare.” Mabel looked at what her twin was looking at and gasped, too. A corridor, trashed and ruined, laid before them, the carpet ripped, scratches on the walls, furniture and paintings destroyed. The kids slowly entered, curiosity getting the better of them, and observed their surroundings carefully. Ahead, a set of double-doors stood, so they approached it and worked together to open the door, pulling hard and letting an eerie creak ring. They found a large room that was just as torn, if not worse, than the corridor. Drapes dangled, vases were shattered, dust covered every surface. Hesitantly, the twins entered, looking around. Mabel caught sight of a messy bed and held onto Dipper’s arm. She looked around and saw a huge portrait that caught her attention. Parts were in shreds, like the face of the father and the eldest child and the mother was hidden by a curtain, but two twin boys stood in their nicest clothes, smiling. One had his arm wrapped around the other’s neck, and the other brother had his hands behind his back. The painting seemed to be so real, like it had purpose, like it wasn’t just a nice decoration. Mabel was uncomfortable, feeling like she was invading. “L-Let’s go.” She quivered, tugging on Dipper’s arm. Dipper was about to agree with her, but he saw something else and his eyes sparkled with interest. “Mabel, look.” There was one thing in the room perfectly intact. By the balcony, in a glass case, stood a book. A maroon book with golden trim and a six-fingered hand on the front stood on a little end table. So much care had been put into preserving it, it must be for a reason. Why would the beast take such good care of a book? Predicting that it had valuable information, Dipper slowly approached. Mabel allowed herself to be pulled gently towards the book, still holding onto her brother’s arm. Dipper looked at the book. Never before had he seen such a beautiful book in all his life, all the ones in the Valentino library old and worn. His thirst for knowledge and his love for books had him slowly lift the glass cover off of the book and set it on the floor. He picked up the book carefully, finding it as big as his arms, and he opened it. He was crestfallen to find it blank. Dipper flipped through a few pages and said, “It’s a journal. With nothing in it.” “Maybe it was a gift.” Mabel guessed. She ran a hand over a page and smiled at how soft it was. “It’s beautiful.” She breathed softly. Dipper thought his eyes were playing tricks on him in the darkness, but no. Slowly, ink soaked into the pages, coming from nowhere, and read Thank you. Greetings. Dipper, in shock, accidentally dropped the journal on it’s spine and forced himself and Mabel back. A page fell out of the journal and it laid open, nothing changing. Mabel was about to scold Dipper, but then more words appeared on the page. Ouch. “Dipper!” Mabel punched him on the shoulder and scooped up the journal. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Journal. Here, I’ll fix you up.” She picked up the page, kissed it, and placed it in the book, hoping something magical would happen, like the binding would take the page back, but the page fell onto the floor like a leaf from a tree. It’s alright, my dear. That happens sometimes. Though falling on my spine is rare. Mabel smiled sympathetically, detecting a joke, but maybe she was misinterpreting a harsh comment for sarcasm. Maybe not. Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry for dropping you, Monsieur Journal.” Apology accepted, but please call me Ford. “Sure. Sorry, Monsieur Ford.” Dipper said. “I’m Dipper and this is my sister, Mabel.” Bonjour. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance. What brings you here? Dipper and Mabel blushed a little in their cheeks. “We… we were exploring.” Dipper answered. Ah, I see. My brother and I used to explore all the time as children. The trouble we would get into drove the staff mad. “The staff?” Dipper repeated. “You mean, you grew up here?” He looked back at the painting of the two boys. Yes, a long time ago. “Neat-o!” Mabel complimented, still cradling the book ever so gently. “You must have a lot of stories!” As a matter of fact, I do. “Well, we love books!” Mabel sat on her knees, and Dipper peered down, interested. “Fire away, Monsieur Ford!” The whole journal quivered, as if chuckling, and sure enough, small letters appeared on a page, making hmmm, suggesting maybe a warm chuckle. I love your energy. Well, there was one time when we… “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Mabel closed the journal and held it close to her chest, protecting it. Dipper stood in front of his sister with his arms outstretched. The beast ran towards them on all fours and stopped just inches from the kids, growling with fire in his eyes. Dipper stood strong in front of his sister, determined to keep her safe, meanwhile she couldn’t understand how someone so nice could be so… so scary. Stan, with a shaking claw and heavy breaths, reached towards them. “Give him to me.” He growled in such a low, cold, scary voice, that Mabel’s eyes filled with tears. She was flooded with the sense that she had done something very wrong. She scooted an inch to the side, better out from behind Dipper, and held out the journal. Stan carefully took the book and hunched over slightly, keeping it close to his chest and against his fur. Dipper pulled Mabel away from the beast, still on her knees, but Dipper was ready to scoop her up and run if needed. The beast moved it’s furious eyes back on them and Dipper felt a shiver go down his spine, but he refused to be seen as weak. “Why did you come here?” The beast growled dangerously. “W-We’re sorry, M-Monsieur Stan.” Mabel piped, quiet as a mouse. “W-W-We were just exploring and… and…” “You BRATS! After everything I’ve done for you, you’re NOTHING BUT TROUBLE! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!” Dipper pulled Mabel up and they ran as fast as they could. Mabel was grateful that Dipper was pulling her, because her eyes were full of tears and it was hard to see. The second the twins were gone, Stan felt like he was sinking. He had allowed his monstrous temper to get out of hand. Again. He took in a few deep breaths to calm down and he opened the journal. “Stanford, are you okay? Did those kids hurt you?” No, Stanley. I’m fine. Those children would never harm me. The beast’s eyes found the page on the floor. Seeing this, the journal made new words on the page. You and I both know that happens randomly. Stan sighed languidly, the whole world on his shoulders. “We’re running out of time.” That may be so, but with the little time I have left I wish to spend it outside a glass container and among good people. Like you. Stan could hear his brother’s lecturing tone. “I’m not a good person, Sixer. I proved that just now.” He said darkly as guilt overwhelmed him, a feeling he was far too used to. So go apologize. Then when you come back, bring the children with you. I wish to tell them embarrassing stories about my brother. Stan somehow managed an anemic smile. He only heard half the conversation with his excellent hearing on the way here from the woods (more like a fourth of the conversation, since he had no way of knowing what his brother had written), but from what he could tell the kids and Ford were having a good time together. He knew it was paranoid and selfish for Stan to keep Ford locked away like this, but what if something happened to him? He was already losing him slowly. He just couldn’t lose him, but he wanted Ford to be happy just as much as he wanted him to be safe. “Okay, Sixer.” Stan closed the journal, laid him on the table, and left. Meanwhile, in the freezing cold, wrapped in black cloaks, the twins were running in the woods, Dipper leading the way, gripping Mabel’s hand. They swatted past branches and trees, running farther away from the castle as fast as they could. “If that beast won’t help us we’ll just have to find Fiddleford ourselves.” Dipper sneered. “Dipper, how will we find him?” Mabel asked. They began to slow down. Scared and angry and hurt, the kids had acted irrationally, leaving without supplies or even a lantern. Still, pride and stubbornness clouded the boy’s mind, so he said, “We’ll just have to look carefully. Come on. Fiddleford! Fiddleford!” The kids walked in the woods, holding hands, and called out his name. Dark clouds rolled over the full moon, their only light course, and so they moved carefully through the dark forest in order to avoid being hurt again. Mabel squeezed Dipper’s hand and stopped them all of a sudden. “Wait, did you hear that?” Dipper listened through the howling wind and he thought he heard a small noise through the bushes. He peered in the same direction as his sister and they gasped to find a pig scurrying towards them. “WADDLES!” Mabel cheered with glee and let go of Dipper to run to her pet pig and pick him up, hugging him tightly. “Oh, my Waddles! Have you been looking for us since no one came home? Good pig! Good pig!” Dipper smiled and rubbed the pig’s head, who oinked happily. “It’s good to see you too, buddy.” The happy reunion was ruined when they heard a low growl. Dipper hugged Mabel tightly and her grip on Waddles grew stronger, who trembled in her arms. They could hear howling, so Dipper grabbed one of Mabel’s arms and she put the pig down. “Come on!” They ran through the woods, hoping to get far away from the wolves and to live to see the sun rise. Waddles ran right behind the twins as they went up and down a hill, tripping on tree roots but coming up okay. Just as they were at the bottom of the hill, a wolf jumped in front of them gray-blue fur covering it’s skinny body and it’s razor sharp teeth unmasked by a snarling muzzle. This wolf was not going to leave without some food. Mabel screamed. Dipper picked up a fallen branch and was ready to attack the wolf with it. Waddles scampered in front of the kids and oinked warningly at the wolf, but the savage animal roared and the pig was so scared it squealed and ran to be behind Mabel. Dipper swung the branch at the wolf and hit it over the head, dazing it. Mabel acted quickly, grabbing a rock, and threw it. The wolf stumbled, whined, and ran off over the hill and was gone. Dipper breathed heavily, his heart racing and he smiled at his sister. “G-G-Good… job.” He panted. “You too, bro-bro.” Mabel hugged him, relieved and proud, and then got on her knees to pet a shaken Waddles. “Poor Waddles, you were so brave.” Dipper smiled down at his family, but his eyes and ears caught something else. At the top of the hill, a bigger, meaner, scarier wolf appeared. He howled out into the night air and more of his pack joined. It appeared that the wolf the twins had fought off was the weakest one, the runt, and they will pay for bullying him. Mabel picked up Waddles and another rock; Dipper tightened his hold on his branch, ready to fight and protect his sister. The wolves came running down, circling their dinner. Dipper swung his branch like a club, keeping the wolves at bay, but one grabbed the stick with his teeth and snapped it in two. Dipper threw the sad remains of his weapon at it and hit it on the head. One wolf behind Mabel ambushed and bit her dress, dragging her and Waddles. She screamed bloody murder, terrified, and Dipper cried out and reached out for her hand. Suddenly, something cloaked in red pounced on the wolf that had a hold of the little girl and threw it against a tree. The wolf staggered up, roaring, but a beast stood in front of the children on all four and roared more horribly. Mabel stared as Dipper hugged his sister close. “Stan?” She whispered in shock. The wolves circled them, sizing Stan up. Should they work together to try to earn enough food to keep them full for a month, or should they retreat and not take the risk. The alpha seemed to have decided to engage in combat, for it snapped at Stan and the beast retaliated viciously. As the wolves piled on Stan, attacking together as one threat, Dipper held Mabel against his chest, shielding her eyes from the fight in case it turned ugly. She allowed it, squeezing her eyes shut and petting Waddles, her ears forced to hear the growling or wolves and Stan’s painful roars. Dipper watched as the beast worked tirelessly to keep any wolves away from them; one almost jumped on Dipper, but Stan grabbed it’s tail and threw it away in the fight like it was a stuffed toy. Dipper almost didn’t dare to believe the strength Stan had, but the beast was tackling the whole pack of wolves singlehandedly and despite the bites to the necks and his ribs, he was winning. At one point Stan roared so loudly the whole woods trembled and the wolves whined like dogs and ran off, admitting defeat and fleeing up the hill. As they left, with his back to the children, Stan slowly rose to his back paws like a man. A breeze ruffled his gray fur and red cape, exposing a bleeding arm that he held with his opposite paw. He panted for breath, his head spinning, but ignored it all and turned to look at Dipper and Mabel. Stan’s eyes were soft and lost the fire they held earlier. “Knuckleheads… I meant get outta the room… not the…” His strength left him and he fell onto the dead grass. Surprising Mabel, Dipper was the one to run to him and fall on his knees by his side. His little hands hover over the beast, unsure of what to do or how to help, but there was no way he wasn’t going to do something. Mabel put Waddles down and joined Dipper. The twins exchanged looks and nodded, their twin telepathy in play. Mabel moved to Stan’s left side and Dipper kept to his right and used his black cloak to cover his bleeding arm; a wolf had scratched it pretty bad in the fight. Waddles nudged his head gently and he started to come back. “You gotta help us, man.” Dipper said. “Can you stand up?” Stan growled in his throat, powering through his pain, and with Mabel and Dipper under his arms for support, he soon stood on his back paws again. Slowly, with Waddles leading the way, the kids helped Stan limp towards the castle. Under his breath, coming and going from his daze, Stan huffed, “Thanks.” Dipper looked up at him and swallowed. “Thank you, for saving our lives.” Mabel gave his uninjured arm a comforting squeeze. To help them all feel better, she hummed a tune quietly. All of them were so distracted that they didn’t notice that a few snowflakes had fallen from the dark clouds above.

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: Phew! The next few chapters are longer than the first three, FYI. Now, since Dipper and Mabel are sharing the role of Belle, I decided to have fun with Dipper being hesitant to trust Stan, also to parallel the episode Dreamscapers and how Dipper was all for pressing the button and Mabel was the one to trust him in Not What He Seems.

I couldn't help myself and just HAD to make Melody a piano. One thing I really liked about the live-action BatB movie was the addiction of the piano, a possible homage of the huge evil piano dude in the Christmas movie. And come on, what Disney-referenced-filled story would it be without some Mary Poppins, huh? Also, consider Stan telling the kids they’re nothing but trouble a reference to Ducktales 2017, specifically when Scrooge calls his kids that in the season one finale.

Just gonna go ahead and say that working with Ford here and SO much fun! The ANGST! So much angst!!! The scene where he meets Dipper and Mabel was one I was really looking forward to writing (it should be noted that @artsycrapfromsai​’s idea for Journal-Ford came from Tom Riddle’s diary in Harry Potter, so there’s that).

As far as Waddles is concerned… I’ll talk more about him next chapter.

[winchester-purgatory]

Holiday guests | Dean Winchester (Part 3)

Sunday, December 23rd

Waking up to the smell of breakfast - eggs and bacon, to be precise - was unusual for Dean.

When they were kids, John would make efforts to cook his sons breakfast, either toasts or cereals, but now that his boys were grown ups, he didn’t bother trying. So, if Dean wanted breakfast, he’d have to prepare it himself. Most of the days, it resulted in a large cup of coffee.

Expecting to see Sam behind the stove, cooking some disgustingly healthy breakfast, the blond was met by a much shorter and red-er haired lady. She was taking a sip from her coffee while watching the sizzling eggs in the pan.

Dean’s lips curved a bit, memories rolling in. The scene reminded him of when they first met at Sam’s tiny apartment in Palo Alto. He had crashed on his brother’s couch and woke up to the redhead shattering a plate on Sam’s floor. Her long ginger hair and bare legs peeking from the oversized tee shirt will forever be engraved in Dean’s memory. She was a sight for sore eyes.

‘’Morning,’’ Dean said, breaking the silence.

Juliet jumped, startled by his hoarse morning voice. She turned around and pulled her eyebrows. ‘’Dean? What are you doing up before eleven? Did you become a morning person?’’

He huffed a laugh, walking further into the kitchen. ‘’Work,’’ the blond explained. ‘’Did you make coffee?’’

Juliet nodded. ‘’Help yourself. I’m making eggs. Want some?’’

As tempting as Juliet’s offer was, Dean had to decline. That breakfast smelled delicious though… And, there was bacon - Dean’s favorite beside pie - waiting to be cooked on the counter.

‘’Wish I could say yes, but I need to leave in five minutes.’’

‘’Wait, we’re Sunday?’’ the redhead realized, a frown between her eyebrows. ‘’You work on a Sunday?’’

‘’Yeah. The auto shop is closed, but I do towing on the weekends. Someone has to go and help those idiots who can’t handle the snow and slippery roads and got themselves stuck in a snow bank or the roadside.’’

Juliet chuckled. ‘’I agree.’’

Dean brought the hot cup of coffee to his lips and hummed. ‘’Damn , this coffee is good. Like, better than usual. What did you do to it?’’

‘’Ah! That’s a secret for me to keep,’’ she replied, a grin on her lips before returning to the stove, placing some eggs on a plate for herself.

Dean watched her as she moved around the kitchen. God, she was so beautiful. After not seeing her in two years, he had almost forgotten how much of a natural beauty Juliet was.  From where he was, he could see the freckles on her cheeks and nose, and the scar above her cheekbone. It was lighter than it used to be, faded from time.

‘’Well, I should get going.’’

‘’See you tonight, Dean.’’

.

Helping idiots out of snow banks and hoisting them on the towing was exhausting. Especially in winter. But, the more exhausting part wasn't the towing though, it was the owners of the towed car and that Dean had to take with him. Most were annoying and overly talkative - which quickly got on Dean's nerves. He was tempted more than once to dump them on the side of the road, but he'd get fired for it.

His first client was a middle aged woman who didn't have winter tires on her car. When Dean arrived on the scene and realized that, he wasn't surprised that she slipped on black ice and hit the road's borders. It's the middle of December and snowing like crazy. How can you expect to have full control of your car during a heavy snow and icy roads without winter tires? Idiots' logic like her made no sense to Dean. He has helped so many idiots of the same genre since the start of winter that he stopped counting.

For his second client, Dean was lucky and fell on someone he got along pretty well. The man had accidently hit a wild animal on his way home and, although the animal had run away, uninjured, the car's engine wouldn't start back on after the hit.

''It's an old car. I'm not surprised,'' the man, Benny, said as Dean turned on the towing truck, ready to leave the scene. ''It's not the first time it happens. Not that I purposely hit wild animals. They just love my car, I guess.''

''This road is prone to that. My dad used to be a ranger and he would get calls all the time to say deers were on the road,’’ Dean explained.

''You're from around here?''

Dean nodded. ''Lawrence, Kansas, born and raised, baby.'' He flashed Benny a proud smile. ‘’And you?’’

‘’I just moved her three months ago. I’m originally from San Jose.’’

‘’San Jose?’’ the blond repeated. ‘’Wow. That’s quite a big change of scenery.’’

‘’Yeah… My wife and I needed some change. We found a small house we liked in Lawrence and bought it on a whim. Most will say it’s kinda crazy, but it’s gonna be perfect to raise kids.’’

The conversation carried on as Dean drove, sharing his knowledge on the best burger places in town and where to not get beer after a long week of work. It was very important information for new-comers.

A familiar tunes came on the radio and Dean’s hands crisped on the steering wheel, trying to wash away the incoming flashback of him and Juliet singing to this exact song in his car during his stay in Palo Alto. Her sparkling eyes and red hair flowing from the wind and speed the car was going at.

He reached to turn it off, making his passenger raise an eyebrow.

''You're not a fan of classic rock?'' Benny asked.

Dean shook his head. ‘’I do. Just...old memories.’’

The elder man hummed. ‘’Past girlfriend, I’m guessing.’’

Dean flashed him a tight lipped smile. ‘’We can say that.’’

.

For dinner, John asked Dean to pick up burgers on the way home. What screamed more Winchester tradition than a good old burger for dinner? Add a beer and you have the perfect combo.

‘’The food is here!’’ Dean called as he walked in, carrying a brown paper bag holding everyone’s orders.

He shrugged off his winter layers and dove into the bag to grab his burger, taking a bite before even sitting down. He hummed, chewing his bite.

Sam came around to the table, Juliet following behind. ‘’Nice of you to wait for us.’’

Dean shrugged, unbothered. ‘’I was too hungry. I’ve been working all day, unlike you.’’

Sam rolled his eyes and sat down. ‘’Can you pass the bag, please?’’ Dean handed it to his brother but moved it away before Sam could grab it, laughing at his own childish behavior. Sam rolled his eyes. ‘’Dean.’’

‘’Where's Dad?’’ Dean asked, not seeing him around.

‘’He went to Bobby’s. He should be back soon,’’ Sam replied.

Dean hummed and reached into the bag. ‘’For the ladies,’’ he said, handing the last two burgers to Juliet and Sam.

Juliet took the burger from him. ‘’Thank you.’’

Dean smiled at her and pulled out his side of fry, frowning when he saw a lonely salad at the bottom. ‘’A salad? Who ordered a salad?’’

‘’Me,’’ Sam replied, this time taking the bag from his brother. ‘’You should try it some time. I’m sure it’ll be better for your cholesterol.’’

Dean scoffed, taking a couple fries and shoving them into his mouth. ‘’Salad is rabbit food. And, for your concerns, my cholesterol is just fine.’’

Juliet held her laugh, amused by the brothers' antics, and reached over the table and stole a fry from Dean.

.

It was almost midnight when Dean left his bedroom for a late snack, the burger and fries he had for dinner long gone from his stomach, to satisfy his late hunger before bed.

He walked down the hallway, thinking about the cereal bowl he was about to eat, and stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure in the living room. At first, he assumed it was his dad who had fallen asleep in his lazy-boy chair, but the quiet sobs told Dean it wasn’t John.

‘’Juliet?’’

‘’Fuck. Can’t you knock?’’ she hissed, turning her back from Dean.

‘’Sorry. I was on my way to get a snack and I- You okay?’’ He knew it was a stupid question to ask - she obviously was not okay -, but he had to ask. Give her an open door, in case she felt like talking.

‘’I’m crying in my best friend’s living room in the middle of the night, what do you think?’’ She shook her head. ''I'm not okay. I'm pretty far from okay.''

Just her luck, Dean wasn’t good with emotions and feelings. He's never been. He’s not good at comforting people either - the two go hand in hand -, but he couldn't let Juliet bath in her sadness. Seeing her cry like that was painful to watch.

Dean sat on the couch beside her, her quiet sobs tugging at his heart. ''Wanna talk about it?'' he offered tentatively. Maybe he won't know what to say to make her feel better, but he could always listen.

''You remember Damien?''

The elder Winchester tensed at the mention of Juliet's asshole ex-boyfriend.

''Well, I lied. Partially. I did break up with him, but he came to the café last week and caused a scene. He started yelling and-''

''Did he touch you?'' Dean interrupted, feeling his blood boil at the mere idea of this guy's dirty hands on Juliet. Damien had hurt her in the past, he certainly could do it again. Dean remembered the colorful bruise on her cheek when he visited Sam a couple years ago. It wasn't pretty.

She shook her head.

Dean sighed in relief. Good thing.

''Ben, a guy from the kitchen, got him to leave - bless him -, but I knew it wasn't over. It never is with Damien. After my shift at the café, I was too scared to go home and be by myself. I kept asking myself: what if he came here, you know? So, I went to Sam's. I've been staying at his place since that night. I didn't tell Sam what happened, he still doesn't know and I don't plan on telling him about the café incident. You know him, he'll want me to get a restraining order against Damien.''

‘’Wouldn’t be a good thing? A restraining order?’’

Juliet scoffed. ‘’It wouldn’t serve anything. It’s Damien. He doesn't care about laws and that kind of stuff. A piece of paper won’t keep him away from me. He’ll always find a way.’’

Dean had to fight the envy to go to California and kick his ass. Maybe then he’ll finally get the message and leave Juliet alone.

‘’I got a text from him today. Minutes ago, actually. He trashed my whole apartment. My landlord is going to kill me. I’m going to have to pay for all the damages fees. I’m going to have to find a new place too which is going to be difficult because they are going to call my old landlord and he’s gonna give me a bad note.’’

‘’Why don’t you stay with my brother a bit longer?’’

Juliet shook her head. ‘’I can’t invade his space forever. And, in case you forgot, Sam’s apartment is tiny.’’

He’ll give her that. There was just enough for a bed, couch and desk in that apartment. It’s so cramped. Two people couldn’t cohabit there, especially with Sam’s tall frame.

‘’I don’t know what I’m going to do. I-’’

Juliet’s tears started flowing again and, this time, Dean pulled the redhead into him. For a  moment, he thought he did a wrong move, that maybe he shouldn’t have done that, but Juliet responded instantly, wrapping her arm around his neck as his large hands rubbed up and down her back.

She cried into Dean’s chest, soaking his shirt, and Dean held her tighter, hating to see Juliet crying because of that guy. It wasn't the first time Dean confronted her following something Damien did.

After a few minutes, Juliet's tears slowed down and she pulled away from Dean, noticing the huge stain on his grey shirt. ''Sorry. I ruined your shirt...'' she pointed, wiping the remaining tears on her face with the back of her hands.

Dean shook his head. Fuck his shirt. It's just tears. ''Don't worry about it. It's just a shirt.''

‘’I’m such an idiot. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken him back in the first place-’’

‘’Hey. You’re not an idiot, okay? You take dumb decisions, it’s all.’’

Juliet chuckled slightly, allowing herself to be distracted from her issues for a few seconds. ‘’I go home in three days. What am I gonna do? I wish Charlie was here…’’

‘’Let’s go for a ride.’’

Juliet looked at him as if he was crazy. ‘’It’s past midnight in the middle of winter. We can’t just go for a ride, Dean.’’

The latter shrugged, seeing no problems. ‘’So? Put on your boots and jacket and let’s go. Snow’s not gonna eat us, you now?’’

‘’I don’t know… It’s snowing a lot and the roads must be icy.’’

‘’We’ll take the truck if it makes you feel safer. Come on.’’ Dean nodded his head in the direction of the door.

‘’Driving around always helps me clear my head,’’ the blond explained. ‘’We can even stop for a midnight snack if there’s anything open on our way.’’

.

Still in their pajamas, Dean drove around Lawrence, soft rock music playing as Juliet watching the large snowflakes sticking to the truck's window. A bag of half finished chips rested on her lap, munching on it every now and then.  Sometimes, she'd hum to the music, making Dean smile and wish the Damien drama had never happened. If it hadn't been from him, maybe he and Juliet would be together. Instead, he had to pick up the mess Damien made and comfort the beautiful girl he wasn't able to love properly.

‘’Juliet?’’ She turned and looked up at Dean. ''I think that if you love someone, you should never hurt them. Simple as that. But some people just can't get this right.''

[thecleverdame]

TTWDBI - Eight

Part Eight - Deceit

Masterlist

Summary: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader - Sam is young, powerful and comes from one of the wealthiest families in New York. When he meets an Omega bartender who’s far from what his family expects, Sam is forced to make a series of hard choices.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, knotting, breeding, dominance, ownership, angst, family drama. This chapter contains an attempted sexual assault, actual physical assault, and talk of past abuse.

Words: 6.5k

Beta: @ilikaicalie -

Part Nine is currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

“Where are we going?” You peek out of the walk-in closet. “I need a few details. I don’t know what to pack.”

“Just pack everything.” Sam’s distracted, staring down his iPad with a stylus between his teeth.

“Winter everything or warm weather everything?” You slink out into the bedroom. “Come on, just a hint. Just tell me...are we staying in the state or are we going somewhere more exotic.”

“Nope.” He quips, marking notes on the digital screen.

“How long are we staying? Are we driving or flying?” You persist.

He perks up a little, actually making eye contact with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Pack enough for a week, a dress or two, something warm. A bathing suit, well, on second thought you won’t need the suit…”

“You’re awful.” You laugh, as he nips at you.

It’s been a month since Jake and things between you and Sam couldn’t be better. The last four weeks have been wonderfully uneventful and it’s given you the time to enjoy each other. In fact, you’ve discovered that the more you’re around each other, the deeper your love grows. Fate must have known what it was doing when it brought you together.

“Bring that black thing with all the lace, the one piece. I love your ass in that.”

“Maybe.” You smile, pulling the aforementioned neglige from the hanger and carefully folding it into the suitcase. “How many bags can I bring with me?”

“As many as you want we’re taking my dad’s plane so you can - fuck!”

“Aha!” You jump back out of the closet, to find Sam shaking his head, glaring at you. “We’re taking a plane somewhere. Out of the state? Out of the country?”

“You think you’re so slick.” He puts down the iPad and stands up, moving toward you. “You’re just going to have wait until tomorrow.”

“Come on!” You whine. “I wanna know.”

“I’m not saying another word, I might give something else away. I’ve kept it secret this long. I’m not letting you trip me up at the finish line. My lips are sealed.”

He pulls to you him, one hand around your waist, fingers curling around your back as his thumb trails over the scar on your neck.

“I’m excited.” You whisper, eyes fluttering at his touch. “I haven’t traveled much. I always wanted to, Donna and I were going to backpack through Ireland but neither of us ever had the money.”

“I’m gonna take you everywhere.” He murmurs, leans down for a light kiss. “Just wait.”

Prague, Czech Republic

The city is like a rich noir novel come to life. It’s a taste of the old world, with its decadent buildings and thick, hanging fog. It’s like living in a Bela Lugosi movie. You’ve been here for three days, with five more to go. A whole week in a place you didn’t know you loved until the plane landed and you stepped out into this strange new land.

It’s well after sunset as you walk arm-in-arm with Sam over the cobblestones.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hot breath puffing out into the frigid night air. He places a gloved hand over yours.

“Starving.” You smile, picking up the pace.

Dinner is a five-course meal in a candlelit tavern that looks like a medieval alehouse, complete with walls of stone and soft music playing the background.  It’s a small place, only a few other couples cuddle around the aging wood tables giving the illusion of privacy. You might as well be the only ones here as you get lost in Sam, and food, and the otherworldly surroundings.

By the time the sorbet arrives you’re both so full, you can only manage a taste before sitting back, grinning like a fool. Sam looks just as happy, he’s had a smile plastered across his face since you left New York and this broad, unadulterated joy looks good on him.

“I can’t believe this is my life.” You giggle, reaching across the table, laying your hand over his.

“You like it here?” He doesn’t need to ask, he knows he picked well. He’s watched you discover art and architecture and European cuisine. He knew you had deeper interests, a desire to see more than your previous life afforded but in this place, you’re blossoming.

“It’s not just the city, it’s being here with you. Everything just feels right.” You blink back tears. “I’ve never been able to breathe without something looming over me. I just feel so free. I love you so much.”

If it’s even possible his smile widens, dimpled cheeks rounding out.

“I love you, too.” He squeezes your fingers. “What’s been your favorite thing so far?”

“St. Vitus Cathedral at night.” You answer without even thinking about it. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, it was overwhelming and...emotional. Is that weird?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt the same way when I saw it for the first time. I was visiting my mom and we came here. I was eight or nine and I stood there for an hour, transfixed. We should go back. We can go tonight.”

“Really?” You confirm. “I’d love that.”

“No better time than the present.”

After dinner, you wander through the city. It’s chilly but tolerable as you stroll for the better part of an hour, talking about nothing and walking arm in arm as a fat moon rises high in the night sky.

St. Vitus rises in front of you like an architectural beacon, lighting up the night like a gothic fairy tale.

“I never wanna leave.” You whisper, feeling both of Sam’s arms wrap around you from behind.

“What do you love so much about it?” He asks softly, nuzzling into your hair.

“The city, the people...but mostly I think it’s being with you. When we’re home you work so much...I’m not complaining. I just miss you sometimes.”

“We’ve got the rest of our lives to be together.” He whispers as he releases you. You turn to look at him but he’s already on one knee, crouching in front of you.

“Sam.” You’re already crying as he tugs the glove off your left hand.

“I love you. I wanna spend my life with you.” He states simply, a sparkling ring between his fingers. “I don’t want to wait any longer to start our life together. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You blurt out, half laughing, half crying, while he slips the ring onto your finger.

“I’m gonna make you so happy,” he whispers, standing and cradling your face between two warm hands. “I promise.”

The rest of the week is a lovesick haze. The days are spent making love and endless conversation about the details of your new life. Everything feels like it’s falling into place, life has finally come together to give you something good.

New York City

“Come in!” Mary claps her hands together, grinning wildly.

“Hi,” you gasp as she embraces you in a tight hug.

“Sam,” She releases you and reaches out to her son, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hi mom,” he grins as she pats his face. “You’re happy.”

“Well, I have a surprise for you.” She looks at you, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her face. “I think it’s just what we need.”

“What is it?” Sam smiles at you, taking your hand and leading the way to the study.

Rounding the corner you find two extra guests seated on the leather sofa, your parents.

You stop in your tracks as Sam tugs on your hand, turning to look between you and these new strangers. You’re locked in a staring match with your father, who’s teetering on the edge of the couch with a glass in his hand. Your mother is sitting uncomfortably beside him, these two couldn’t be more out of their comfort zone. They’ve always considered wealth in itself to be an offensive extravagance.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your father stands up, clearing his throat.

You unconsciously sidestep closer to Sam even though he’s not physically intimidating like when you were a girl, now he’s just a man in cheap trousers who no longer holds sway over your life.

“Hi, Dad.” You don’t move to greet him, there’s complete silence until your mother joins her husband, slinking past him to place a kiss on your cheek. “Mom.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the reception I was hoping for.” Mary’s tone is painfully cheerful despite the unbearable tension.

“I’m sorry,” You pull yourself together. Turning to Sam you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you won’t be able to fake your way through this. “Sam these are my parents, Alastair and Naomi. Mom, Dad, this is Sam.”

Sam, always quick with his social graces, shakes your father’s hand and introduces himself to your mom while you are trying to formulate a plan. You were fully prepared to never see either of them again, but you find yourself in a room with two people who rival John and Mary in their cruelty.

“I just thought it was about time that we met Y/N’s parents.” Clasping her hands, Mary scrunches up her nose, smiling from you to Sam. “And what better time? You two can tell us all about Prague.”

“Actually, this is perfect.” Sam’s arm slips around your waist. “We have some news.”

“Oh?” John speaks up for the first time, tilting his head and staring at Sam. It’s amazing how much disappointment the man can convey with a single, one syllable word.

“Yeah,” Sam’s hand squeezes your hip and you look to him for the first time. He’s smiling, a bright genuine smile that even his father can’t take from him. “I asked Y/N to marry me.”

John snorts, Mary’s face contorts into a hideous expression of forced joy and your father remains stoic. It’s Naomi, your mother who has the biggest reaction, moving in to embrace you while your arms hang at your side.

“Congratulations,” she sputters, lifting your hand to see the ring. Her eyes go wide at the sight of the sizeable diamond. “Oh my gosh.”

“If she’s a wearing a ring that must mean she said yes,” Mary approaches you for a hug, nearly shoving your mother out of the way to get to you. “I wish you would have told me Sam, I could have helped with the ring.”

“I think I did alright on my own.” Sam’s grin, his eyes locked on you.

“It’s perfect.” You add, trying not to be distracted by this unexpected turn of events. This should be a happy announcement and you hate that your past is tainting the present, bleeding into your new life like an open wound that refuses to heal.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Your mother has the same dulled, Stepford Wife expression she wore your entire childhood. “Marriage is such a gift, such a sacred bond.”

“Does that mean you’re happy for me?” The question comes out with an edge despite doing your best to temper the disdain.

“Of course.” She looks between you and Sam.

“Congratulations.” John’s face is even, unreadable as he approaches his youngest son.

“Thanks.” Sam accepts his father's half-hearted hug.

“Well,” Mary’s frozen in place, hands clasped together, turning to your father who hasn’t spoken or moved from his seat. “This is delightful news, isn’t it.”

“Seems backward to me.” His eyes lock onto you just like when you were a kid, so much silent contempt for what you are. He’s always resented that his daughter is an Omega. “You’re already claimed. What’s the point?”

“Dad.” You warn. Everyone is watching but all you can see is your father.

“I think it’s wonderful.”  Mary tries to intercede. “With the baby things will be-”

“Mom!” Sam hisses.

Your mother looks heartbroken and your father’s eyes narrow in on you.

“You expected me to be shocked?” He snorts. “I wouldn’t have expected anything different from our daughter. She’s always had trouble keeping her legs closed.”

“Hey,” Sam is right beside you, ready to jump but you put your arm out to stop him.

“I know what you think of me. You’ve always made that much clear.”

“And you’ve always lived up to expectations. I tried my best with you, your mother and I both did. But you and your sister never listened.”

“Tried your best?” You laugh dryly. “You treated us like we were filthy, like being an Omega meant that I was damned from the get-go.”

“You had no self-control. It was bad enough when you were little but once you presented and that first heat came it was clear what kind of women you’d end up becoming.”

“I was a child!” You shout, tears springing to life. “I needed you to love me, to protect me. I needed mom to show me how to handle myself. All either of you ever did was hurt me.”

“This is the problem with today’s society. A little discipline never harmed anyone, and you needed more than you got.”

“I can’t be here with him.” You turned to Sam who’s already wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’re going to burn in hell. You’ve always been a whore and I knew that you-”

“Stop.” John’s booming voice cuts through the noise, snapping everyone to attention. “You can’t speak that way to her, not in my home. You should leave.”

“Gladly.” Alastair stands up, your mother following blindly just as she always has. He stops to offer you final look of disgust. “You’re in the middle of a vipers nest and you don’t even know it. I’ll pray for you.”

“Get out.” Sam pulls you against him.

-

“What an awful man.” Mary comments, tucking hair behind both your ears. You can’t stop crying and the embarrassment doesn’t help. She wipes her thumb across your cheeks. “If I had any idea I would never have invited him here.”

“All I want is to live my life, to be happy. I don’t know why that’s always been so hard for me.”

“Well, there’s nothing happier than a wedding.” She dotes, handing you a glass of water, turning to Sam who’s seated next to John at the end of the table. “Have you two talked about dates yet?”

“Next month.” Sam nods, tapping his finger on his whiskey glass.

“Next month?” She scoffs, eyes darting to John. “Why so soon?”

“She’s going to start showing at some point.”

“My son is suddenly concerned about what other people think.”

“We don’t want to wait any longer. We want to move forward as a family.” You chime in. Mary doesn’t look at you, instead takes a seat at the table.

“I think it’s a good thing.” John offers casually as the three of you turn to look at him in disbelief. “Family is important. That’s a lesson I’m still learning. I haven’t always been the most supportive, but if Sam’s happy, if you two make each other happy, then why the hell not.”

He raises a glass, tipping back the final vestiges of whiskey, his eyes never leaving you.

--

On Monday morning you’re not feeling well. Sam looks at you sideways, sipping a cup of coffee.

“You alright?” He kisses your cheek before checking his tie in the mirror beside the door.

“Just tired.” You mumble, wrapping the robe around yourself. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Go back to bed.” He suggests, grabbing his keys off the counter, swooping in for one last kiss.

There’s a gentle buzzing coming from somewhere in the kitchen. Sam pulls away as you both look around. After a few seconds of silence, it buzzes again. Something’s vibrating.  He follows the sound to the pantry, sliding the doors open, the sound growing louder. After shifting a few canned goods around he pulls a small black flip phone from the back of the highest shelf, from behind a 5lb bag of rice.

“It’s a phone?” You ask, watching and he flips it open with his thumb.

“Yeah, it’s dying.” He holds it up, the screen is nothing but the image of a drained battery.

“How’d it get in there?” You ask as Sam hands it to you.

“No idea, must be the housekeeper’s.” He shrugs. “I gotta go, see you tonight.”

-

Sam’s knee deep in a fresh set of analytics, already late for the quarterly meeting when there’s a knock the door.

“What it is?” He asks, expecting Rowena’s head to poke around the corner. Instead, it’s Mary who steps into his office, offering him a tight smile.

“I came at a bad time?” She’s slinking toward his desk as he shuffles papers back into the proper folders.

“Sorry mom, I’m right in the middle of it. I’m already late for a meeting. Can we talk later?”

“I just need a second.” There’s a large manilla folder in her stands, clutching it like she’s holding the crown jewels.

“I’ve only got one minute, but we can get coffee later if you want to-”

“I’d like that, but I-I have to show you something.”

“What?” He’s only half paying attention. When she doesn’t speak he looks up to find her holding the folder out toward him. “What is that?”

“Before you get mad at me, I want you to hear me out.” She explains calmly.

“Mom-”

“I care about you Sam, I won’t ever feel bad for that. I know you think you love this girl but the truth is no really knows where she came from or-”

“I’m not having this discussion.” Sam rests his knuckles on the desk, leaning forward.

“She’s not who you think she is.” Mary’s flustered, unadulterated anger rising her voice. “I know you think I’m always trying to manipulate you, but I’m not the only one-”

“Please, just stop. You’re on dangerous ground. You wanna be careful what you say next. I thought you were on board. Has this whole supportive production just been an act?” He can’t believe she’s still trying to pry her way into his relationship.

“No, I’ve been trying, honestly I have.” She walks around his desk, setting the folder in front of him. “You need to look at this when you have the time.”

“What is it?”

“After I first found out you claimed an Omega I hired a private investigator to look into her background. I needed to be sure you weren’t going to end up hurt.”

“Unbelievable.” Sam shakes his head.

“Sam, he found some things you need to see before you decide to marry this woman.”

“Everybody’s got shit in their past, mom.” He throws up his hands, looking from her to the folder, unwilling to dignify this with an adequate response.

“Not like this.” Mary’s jaw clenches. “She has been busy-”

“No.” Sam interrupts, he’s had enough. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“I hope, for your sake you look at what he found. Don’t call me, call him. His number is in there.”

Sam sighs, takes a deep breath trying to fathom what in the world his mother is up to now. He’s disgusted but interested enough to pick up the pack and slide it in with his other documents.

“You need to stay out of my life.” He grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. “Find a way to get supportive or get out. It’s one or the other, Mom. I love you, I do, but I’ve got to go.”

-

By noon you’re sick to your stomach, lightheaded and generally feeling unsettled. Figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry you call the clinic. Dr. Johnson has an open appointment the next morning so you take the slot and go back to bed.

A few hours later the cramps wake you out of dead sleep. You jolt into consciousness clutching a hand over your abdomen, sweat covering every inch of you. Something is wrong, you know it in your bones.

You get yourself in a cab and head to the nearest emergency room. You don’t want to call Sam, not yet. He and John are having an important day, meeting with investors and getting ready for the global launch of their new flagship drug. Things have been going so well even his father is coming around. You don’t want to throw a wrench in the works by overreacting.

Omegas are made to carry children. You keep repeating that to yourself as you sit in the waiting room.

After twenty minutes you’re in a triage room in a paper gown waiting for the doctor. They’ve taken a gallon of blood but no one’s told you anything.

There’s a soft knock at the door.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Tuttle. I’m told you’re not feeling so well?”

“Not the best.” You smile as he takes a seat on the stool, rubbing hand sanitizer between his hands. He flips open your chart, reading through the notes.

“Twelve weeks, no complications. You’re claimed… Sam Winchester?” His eyes snap up, glancing at the gleaming rock on your finger.

“Yeah.” You blush, covering the ring self-consciously.

“I just read an article in the New England Journal of Medicine about the work Gilead’s spearheading. It’s an exciting time in medicine.”

“Sam will happy to hear that.” You try to move on from the niceties to the issue at hand, closing your eyes as pain bubbles up from your gut.

“I’m surprised you’re here. You don’t have a personal physician? And you're alone?”

“My doctor couldn’t see me until tomorrow and I didn’t want to worry Sam unless I know something’s wrong. I didn’t think I should wait, though.”

“Smart.” He smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re fine. No bleeding?”

“No, I just feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. The cramping comes and goes.”

“It’s not uncommon.” He places a hand on your arm. “Lay back for me.”

You stare at the ceiling as he gently presses on different areas of your stomach, asking about abdominal tenderness while making small talk.

There’s a knock on the door and a nurse enters the room, handing him a tablet. He reads the screen, forehead furrowing.

“The doctor you’ve been seeing, Dr. Johnson, she never mentioned you have low progesterone levels?”

“No,” You sit up, unease tightening in your chest. “Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t say that.” He shakes his head. “We’re going to do an ultrasound, just to be on the safe side.”

After a few minutes, there’s a cart wheeled into the room. One nurse is joined by two more as the doctor squirts gel onto your stomach, all four pairs of eyes silently glued to a screen you can’t see.

Dr. Tuttle clears his throat, mouth tightening. It doesn’t take a genius to gage the confused reactions of the medical team.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tears pooling. “Did I lose my baby?”

“No.” The doctor removes the wand from your stomach. “I can’t discuss this any further with you. I have to speak with your Alpha-”

“Are you kidding me?” You’ve reached the end of your rope with this shit. This is your body, your child and you want to know now. “Tell me what’s going on, I have a right to know.”

Dr. Tuttle takes a breath, “Can I have the room please.”

“Please just tell me.” Wiping tears you wait in terrified anticipation until it’s only the two of you in the room.

“I shouldn’t do a pelvic exam without the consent of your Alpha. I could get in trouble. But I feel in this case I need to make an exception.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I need to do one. Right now.”

“This doesn’t feel right, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to say anything else until I have more information.” He looks you dead in the eyes. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Great.” You close your eyes, trying not to sob. “Why not.”

There’s an ultimate humiliation in not having power over your own body. You lie on the table, feet in stirrups and an arm hooked over your eyes, as the doctor performs an examination. It’s almost twenty minutes before he’s finishing poking and probing. You listen to the sickening sound of him snapping off rubber gloves.

“We’re done.” He gently places a hand on your arm, using the other to pull you into a sitting position. His face is grim, looking at you like he’s truly sorry for what he’s about to say.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“You’re not pregnant.” He states calmly.

The air feels thick like you can’t get enough into your lungs to take a full breath. There’s a numbness that starts in your head and descends over your entire body as you sit and stare at Dr. Tuttle, expressionless.

“Did, um, did I do something wrong?” You ask, the words falling out of your mouth on autopilot. “Is this my fault?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You were never pregnant.”

“I don’t understand.” Never pregnant. It’s too much, too confusing and your brain can’t process what he’s telling you. “But I…”

“You have high levels of estrogen, extremely low progesterone and a synthetic version of hCG that showed up in your tox screen. It’s tricked your body into pseudocyesis. It mimics all the symptoms associated with a normal pregnancy. Swollen belly, breast tenderness, nausea, and weight gain. In some cases even the feeling of fetal movement. You wouldn’t have known the difference. But I can say with a hundred percent certainty that you have never been pregnant.”

You stare at him, unable to move or speak, the gravity of this revelation setting in.

“But I-I saw a heartbeat. I saw my baby.”

“Whatever you saw, it wasn’t your pregnancy.” He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is unconventional, I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I have to call your Alpha.”

“Okay.” You’re still, focused on the wall. You can’t think anymore. If you let yourself feel it’ll be too much, so instead you shut down. “I need to go.”

“I think you should stay. We’ll call your Alpha, maybe we can all sit down together-”

“No.” You discard your gown in front of him, nudity is your last concern as you search for your jeans. “Thank you, but I need to go home now.”

-

Sam’s phone vibrates in his pocket for the third time in five minutes. He checks it again, it’s a number he doesn’t recognize so he hits the mute button.

“You need to take that?” John leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the shareholders presentation that’s currently in progress.

“I don’t know.” Sam grimaces as a fourth call comes in. “I think I better.”

Stepping into the hallways he answers, already annoyed. “Winchester.”

“Sam Winchester?” The voice is male and unfamiliar.

“The one and only. Who is this?”

“My name is doctor Tuttle, I’m a physician at New York Presbyterian.”

Sam’s heart drops into this stomach.

“What’s wrong?” He’s sweating before the question is finished.

“Your Omega came in today, I treated her for what I thought were pregnancy-related symptoms.”

“Is she alright?” He takes off toward his office, breaking into a run. He just needs his car keys. “Is something wrong with our baby?”

“She’s fine, but I do have some pretty unsettling news, Mr. Winchester. I think it’s best if you come here so we can speak in person.”

“I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later Sam’s sitting in a small office with lime green walls, listening as he’s told that his entire world has been a lie.

She was never pregnant. It appears to be a chemical induced pregnancy.

The words rattle around in his head. The doctor keeps talking, the hospital legal counsel sitting in the corner taking notes.

“How is this possible?” Sam can feel the rage boiling in his veins. You’ve been lying to him all this time, it’s the only explanation. “She had an ultrasound, I was there.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman has faked a pregnancy.” The lawyer speaks up. “You’d be surprised what people will agree to do for a little bit of cash.”

“I’m not entirely convinced that’s the case.” Dr. Tuttle speaks up. “She came in knowing we’d run tests, all it took was a blood screen and an ultrasound to determine she wasn’t pregnant. And her reactions appeared to be genuine. I tried to get her to stay, to wait for you, but she insisted on leaving.”

“I haven’t been able to reach her.” Sam runs a hand over his mouth. There’s a pressure building in his chest, starting to make it hard to breathe “I need to get out of here.”

He tried to call you several times on his way to the hospital but your phone is turned off. He left Donna a message but he didn’t know who else to call. You’re unreachable and his entire world is coming apart at the seams.

--

He sits in his car in the parking garage, key in the ignition but the car is still off. Sam can’t think straight. There are a million thoughts swirling in his brain. His eyes fall on the folder his mother handed him this morning, and he picks up, pulling out a stack of documents.

The first sheet is withdrawal history from your bank account. He hasn’t checked it since the business with Jake but the money didn't stop there. There are a series of withdrawals every month totaling around ten thousand dollars. There are two pages stapled to that one, showing charitable donations to the clinic you’ve been attending. And a deposit statement from the account of Amelia Richardson for fifteen thousand dollars.

Next is a transcript of text messages from an unlabeled number to a second number identified as Jake. It’s a series of messages that end in asking him to come to the apartment the day of the assault, along with the building address and security code.

The following page is a list of internet searches from your home IP address. Some of it’s about him, his family and then the inquiries trail off into fertility. Next, are various detailed searches regarding marriage laws and the details of financial responsibility once an Alpha marries an Omega. Then the specifics of the new drug that Sam’s been working on.

The connections begin to click together. He’s spent the last year listening to scientists explain how their cure for heat sickness works, It’s simple really. It tricks the body into thinking it’s pregnant. It can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way.

The next page is a series of photos. The first two of are you coming and going from the clinic.  

In the third, you’re sitting alone at a table in a cafe. Directly behind is a young blonde, it takes Sam a moment to place her. It’s the ultrasound technician. In the following photo, the girl is gone and you’re joined by Donna. There’s a handwritten note in the margins that reads withdrawal of a thousand same day - pay off?

Next is a surveillance shot of you and Amelia in a hallway at Gilead, you’re talking about something and there’s a note, a reference back to your bank withdrawal and the corresponding deposit into Amelia’s account.

The final photo makes his heart stop. It’s different than the rest and there’s a Post It that says found in Jake’s apartment. It’s from four or five years ago at a charity event. Sam and Dean are front and center, arms around each other’s shoulders. Sam remembers that night well, they both drank too much and ended up flying to Vegas at 3 am. But behind Dean is your image, a younger version of you dressed in a caterer’s uniform, holding a tray of champagne, staring at the back of Sam’s head.

The last page is the name of a divorce lawyer, Rouel Felder, and grainy photos of you leaving his office. Felder is ruthless, he’s represented everyone from Rudolph Giuliani to David Gest.

There’s a handwritten synopsis from the investigator.

It is my personal opinion, based on these facts, that the subject has engaged in ongoing deception regarding her pregnancy and her relationship with Jake Livingston. I believe the subject new that J. Livingston had photos of her contact with S. Winchester prior to their most recent meeting and that the subject cultivated the situation that lead to the death of J. Livingston at the hands of her Alpha.

The picture is clear. You’ve had an agenda from the beginning, this has all been one long, elaborate con designed to get him to marry you.

He opens the door of his car just in time to vomit on the cement. He wipes his mouth with his tie, before yanking it off his neck, tossing it on the ground of the parking garage. There’s a moment when he can’t see straight, his vision blurring as a sickening combination of anger and betrayal rises up.

He punches the steering column a half dozen times, not stopping until his knuckles bleed, but what he really wants is to punch a hole in the windshield. He’s about to really lose it when his phone vibrates and Donna’s name scrolls across the screen.

“I got your voicemail.” Donna quips as soon as he picks up. “I haven’t heard from her. Is something going on-”

“Did you fucking know?” Sam snarls, gripping the phone so tight his fingers turn white. “Have you two been laughing behind my back?”

“You’re gonna need to take a chill pill, buddy.” Donna shoots back. “You might be used to talking to other people like that, but not me.”

“I know what she’s been doing.” He hits the horn of the car with a closed fist.

“Care to share? Because I don’t have a freakin’ clue what you’re talking about.”

“This whole thing was a setup. The sob story about her parents, getting me to take out Jake and a baby that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Are you drunk?” She asks flatly. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

“I’m so sick of people lying to me!” Sam lashes out, he wants to hurt someone, the rage bubbling up inside him has almost reached its breaking point. “I trusted her.”

“I still have no clue what you’re talking about but you need to take a breath.” She replies calmly.

“I’m talking about Y/N being this whole other person...I was so blind.”

“Stop.” Donna commands and Sam bristles. “Whatever happened you need to stop. This is the kind of crazy shit I warned her about. I told her you’d be bad for her..”

“Me?” Sam snorts in disbelief. “Bad for her?”

“Yeah, your crazy family has had it out for her since you two hooked up. I don’t know what happened but what I do know is that if you think she’s lied or betrayed you somehow, then you really are just a self-absorbed asshole. She’s put herself out there over and over again just to be with you, and now you’re talking like she’s some kind of criminal or something? Have you actually taken the time to get to know her? Because if you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sam’s silent.

“You don’t deserve her.” She spits. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to find my friend and figure what the hell is going on. It sounds like she probably needs someone to be there for her, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

--

He’s calmed down and he’s got a plan. He’s going to remain collected and confront you with the facts. Show you the photos and the documents and ask for your side the story. The more he thinks about Donna’s words the more he knows she’s right.

This isn’t you. He’s an idiot for thinking anything else.

He can believe a lot of terrible things about almost anyone, but not you. Maybe he’s blinded by his love for you, or maybe it’s just your bond but he can’t imagine that the situation is what is appears to be.

Sam can hear it the minute the door opens. Your cries are audible from the living room and he follows the sound to find you sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor, sobbing into your hands.

He doesn’t understand much about what’s happening, but the moment he sees you he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had no idea. There’s no faking this kind of despair.

“Y/N.” He says softly from the doorway and you let out a howl, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, rocking back and forth on the floor. Gasping through the tears he can hear you struggling to breathe, you’re hyperventilating.

“Hey,” he sits on the floor, scooting closer, pulling you between his legs to wrap himself around you.

“I c-can’t b-breathe.” You sputter, gasping like a fish on dry land.

“Yes, you can.” Sam wants to cry too, but his emotional outbursts are the last thing you need right now. This moment is the greatest test of his ability to be an Alpha and he’s not about to let you down, not again, not after everything. “Breathe with me. Come on, in...out...in...out.”

He takes exaggerated breaths so you easily feel the rhythm of his body, each inhale and exhale is measured and slow until you calm down enough to find the pace on your own. But as soon as the panic attack passes your tears come back, gut-wrenching sobs that crush Sam’s heart.

“I don’t understand. I could feel our baby.” You howl. “I could feel it inside me but it was never there.”

“I know.” He kisses your head, rocking with you in his arms.

“I-I didn’t w-want it and then I fell in love with the idea of-” You can’t finish.

For a long time, neither of you say a word, you just cry for nearly an hour until you’re too physically exhausted to shed another tear. Even after the crying stops, he holds you as the minutes tick by and you lie limply in his arms.

“We’re gonna find out what happened. I promise you.”

“I don't care.” You whisper, utterly defeated. “I want my baby.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispers, a tear sliding down his cheek. “We’ll have a baby. As soon as you want, whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I can.” You grip his arms, holding on like some unseen force might try to pull you away from him. “My heart is too broken.”

-

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[winterhawkkisses]

643.

(for @lissadiane who looks after me when I feel shit)

The garden was filled with that odd, golden, threatening afternoon light that drew everything with sharp edges against the dark sky. The wind teased the trees with brief, hard gusts, tugging and shoving them this way and that. It had the feeling of a protesting crowd on the verge of chaos, the first threatening lunges, the first person bending to grab a chunk of stone. Bucky shuddered and closed the curtain, plunging his bedroom into darkness, and swaddled himself back in his bed.

He had a couple of hours before Steve would come home, enough time to balance himself just on the edges of sleep, where movement was unnecessary and thoughts came slow. If he was lucky, if today was one of the good days, he might be able to tip himself over into enough of a pretense at it that Steve'd leave him be when he came to check.

It was dark outside by the time he cared enough to pay attention again.

He wasn't great at sleeping any more. Sleep dredged up memories, wound them together with fears, left them on his pillow like a cat leaves things that should be dead but bleed and scrabble and shriek. It was a little easier in the daylight hours, though, when he could scream himself hoarse without waking Steve, when waking told him exactly where he was, the framed pencil sketch of Peggy watching him struggle out of sweat-soaked sheets with gentle concern.

The middle of the night, on the other hand, the empty hours before the sun came back, were somehow reassuring in a way that didn't make sense to Steve.

Sure, Bucky had been kept in darkness, over there. Darkness and pain, and harsh incomprehensible voices, and occasionally - when they moved him - a sky without any end to it, an impossible depth of stars.

Day was loud and bright and fast, every damned place the same, too much to take in enough to know where the hell you were. In the dark, every voice was a little louder and even slurring, the words now were familiar. Darkness gave you just enough for the character of the country to come through, rising to your nose and your ears and through the soles of your feet. And of course, this was goddamn America, so even out here in the suburbs there were only so many stars.

Just about midnight every night, Bucky pulled on an oversized sweater, snuck downstairs to make himself a coffee by the dim light thrown by appliances, and went outside to curl up on the porch swing that Steve had always longed for as a kid. Sometimes, if he'd managed to get a couple hours of rest, he'd bring a book out and turn on the porch light, taking down the bug zapper that Steve had installed 'cos the idea of it turned his stomach, these days. He read back through the things he'd always loved before; Pratchett and Verne and Heinlein and Le Guin. He knew how they ended, and kept himself safe. Other nights, he just wrapped his arm and the other arm around his knees and rested his head and didn't think.

Steve had moved out here from Brooklyn when Bucky had come home. He said the two were unrelated, but he said a lot of bullshit before he worked out how Bucky wanted to play this. He'd always been a city boy at heart, and it was a little hilarious watching him navigate the suburbs. He'd already gained a fluttering audience of fans for his daily runs, and he'd started talking about maybe getting a crosstrainer instead to keep in the shed out back.

It was the first time either of them had had a yard that was more than concrete, though, a couple of straggling potplants that Bucky had fought tooth and nail to keep alive. As a result the place was a mess, overgrown bushes and precarious trees, grass that came up as high as your knee. He meant to learn something about it, fix it up into something nice, but it was never quite the right time.

Tonight it was raining, heavy and loud, living up to the afternoon's threat. Bucky could see more of the downpour, the trembling leaves and sparkling raindrops, from just the edges of orange light that snuck back from the front of the house, so he kept the porch light off; it'd never rained, out in the desert.

The flood of bright light from the kitchen of the house next door made him flinch and curl tighter.

The fence between the two yards was, at most, waist height. Steve hadn't had the money for more, but he'd insisted they needed it 'cos the neighbour had a dog. Cute as hell, one-eyed, and a force of descruction on the begonias that had died by now anyway. Steve had the blackest of goddamned thumbs.

(It had been a project for Bucky; it had required leaving the house.)

It meant Bucky could see the neighbour, though, when he opened the back door, stared outside with something that looked very like dismay.

"Aaw, rain," he said, like it was a surprise to him, like he hadn't been able to hear the pounding of it against his windows and doors. Bucky extended the hand he'd been given, watched the raindrops sparkle against metal, and waited patiently for the guy to go back inside.

He didn't. He sat down just inside the back door and pulled on a pair of battered sneakers that'd hold up about five minutes under the deluge, picked up the rustiest garden fork Bucky had ever seen, and forged out into the darkness with only the light falling from the kitchen to guide him. So he was gonna get tetanus and die, probably. Whatever. It wasn't Bucky's problem.

It was a little soothing, though, watching him dig away at a patch of ground be the porch, digging weeds away from whatever the hell it was he'd actually planted. And -

Bucky's libido had pretty much taken a nose-dive for the past few months. It was no massive surprise. The therapist he had phone appointments with said something about the lack of bodily autonomy or something, he'd been playing Tetris and hadn't paid all that much attention. He had to admit, though, the rain, and the white shirt, and those goddamn shoulders - call it his aesthetic sensibility, if you like, like Steve did when he went to a museum to ogle the goddamn nudes.

Bucky tired of it all before the neighbour did. He got up, bare feet splashing in the puddle that had drifted in on the wind, and opened the back door, the neighbour not even lifting his head at the creak.

"Bucky?" Steve's voice floated out of the darkness, and Bucky climbed the stairs towards him, letting Steve wrap him up in his arms. He was kind of an octopus when he was sleepy; Bucky didn't so much mind. "You're all wet. You been outside?"

"I was watching the neighbour do some gardening," Bucky told him, and dealt with the unintentionally patronising grin.

Bucky managed to sleep a couple of hours in the safety of the morning, woke up panting and sweating but managed not to scream. He told his therapist about his crazy neighbour - a little to trigger her rant on ableist language, he wasn't gonna lie, 'cos he didn't feel all that much like talking, that day. There was about five minutes - after the sleep, and the therapy, after he'd managed to heat himself up some food - when he considered walking down the block to the grocery store. He rocked back and forth in the open front door for a moment or two, then swore and retreated back into the house. Curled up on the couch with a new book, read two pages before he had to go find something he knew.

He had things he could list as progress, at least. Steve'd be proud.

Sometimes he didn't recognise himself in the mirror, any more. Months of not leaving the house in the daylight had left him pallid and sickly; his hair was getting long; he hadn't shaved in about a week.

He thought about calling his sister.

He climbed back into bed.

There was a gentle tap on the door, some indeterminate amount of time later. Bucky grunted something that worked as enough acknowledgement for Steve to come on in, the evening sunlight pouring in after him until he looked a little bit like a work of art. Like one of those saints with the beautiful longsuffering expressions; maybe they had useless asshole best friends, too.

"I'm going out for dinner with Sam," Steve told him, and yeah, that was one of his nicer shirts. "You wanna come with?"

"I'm not crashing your date, Stevie," Bucky told him, and hey, progress, this was the first time that Steve just blushed, didn't reach for the automatic denial. "Besides," he added, "I'm starting to offend myself, I'm gonna change my sheets and take a bath."

"Sure," Steve said, doing a pretty poor job of biting down on his grin. "Sure, that's great, just leave the sheets by the basement door."

Bucky grumbled another response and ducked back under his blankets, 'cos he hated that he still couldn't - the basement was solid stone, and dark, and it didn't have enough windows. He couldn't.

Steve left with a cheerful jangle of keys and a slam of the front door, which was echoed by the slam of the door on the neighbour's truck. He seemed to work weird hours, leaving before light and stumbling back when it was just about dark, and Bucky felt kinda sorry for his dog. He contemplated, for a second, offering to walk the mutt for him; it was just about as fantastical as the books he read.

It'd be nice to get a closer look at those shoulders, though.

Bucky peeked out of his bedroom window just long enough to get a glimpse of the top of a scruffy blond head, then efficiently stripped his sheets and bundled them together, dropping them over the banister so they landed directly outside the basement door. He had to venture into Steve's room - neat as a new pin - to find himself a clean towel, but the shower was too long denied bliss.

He gathered up his clothes and then threw 'em in a bag with half the contents of the laundry basket, dropping that beside his blankets; he figured he could pay Steve back by cooking him some lunches, give him a break from cardboard-dry sandwiches from the office canteen. He used to love cooking, wasn't sure when that changed.

Half an hour later, hanging over the rail of the back porch, emptying his guts at the scent of cooking meat - yeah. He remembered.

His second attempt was mushroom risotto. That one, he could do. He served himself a bowl and packed the rest of it up into lunch-sized portions, stacking them neatly in the refrigerator. It was tempting to go sit out on the back porch, but he wasn't sure he could deal with the sun, so he settled himself on one of the stools by the kitchen island instead, folded his cold feet over each other and reminded his body how good food could be.

Midnight found him out on the porch again. Steve hadn't made it home, which he'd sent many alternating judgey and lewd texts about, but the truth was it made him kinda restless. He wasn't gonna stare out the front window like a creeper, though, so he came out and curled on the back porch instead, leaving the kitchen light on so he could see enough to sketch spaceships.

He wasn't an artist, not like Steve. His drawings were always kinda businesslike, no emotion. At least, that was how he had always thought about it. His therapist had found it interesting that when he put pen to paper he exclusively designed spaceships, said something about looking for escape. Bucky didn't see any problem with that.

Bucky looked up, startled, when the neighbour's back door slammed open, a bundle of golden fur shooting out. The neighbour followed at a more sensible pace, rubbing the back of his neck, his hair standing up on end like he'd only just woken. He glanced over, startled a little when he caught sight of Bucky, and lifted a hand in greeting.

"Hey," Bucky said, which was the first time he'd spoken to anyone outside of Steve and his therapist in... a month and three days. Man, he really needed to call his sister.

"Hi," his neighbour said back, and grinned, lopsided and kinda charming before it spread into a yawn. "You're Bucky, right?"

"Yup," Bucky said, tapping his fingers restlessly against the notepad on his lap. "Sorry, I don't -"

"Aaw, Steve didn't mention me? I thought we were bros!" The guy actually held his hand out, like he hadn't registered the distance between their respective back porches, and then looked awkward and rubbed the back of his neck again. "I'm Clint," he said.

"Hey, Clint." Bucky stood abruptly, losing the pen he'd been drawing with into the darkness of the yard. "I'm gonna -" he gestured loosely and headed back into the house, so goddamn unsettled by an exchange of words with someone he didn't know that he had to turn off the kitchen light and curl up on the floor there, breathing in deep with his head between his knees.

Once his heart was a little steadier, he climbed the stairs and took a right instead of a left at the top, opening the door to the spare room that overlooked the garden. He was just a little worried, he told himself, 'cos Clint was using sharp tools and he'd looked more than half asleep. Just making sure there were no injuries.

(Didn't stop him laughing like hell, though, when Clint tripped over his goddamned dog.)

It took a couple weeks to get past greetings, even if that was only a conversation about why the hell Clint did his weeding in the dark. Turned out he had two jobs, a mailroom job in the day and an archery range after hours; he slept through some of the evening, gardened a little, slept a couple hours in the small hours of the morning too.

"I'm not great at sleeping," Clint said with a look that Bucky recognised.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Me too."

It was kind of inspiring watching Clint gradually taming the wilderness behind his house, by kitchen light and torchlight and the light of the damned moon. It ended in more injuries than Bucky was happy with, he'd admit, and he took to keeping a tube of Bactine and a box of band-aids under his seat. First time he grabbed Clint's bloody hand, even with the safety net of the fence stretched between them, he'd felt like his heart was gonna pound its way out of his chest.

(Three months, six days since he'd touched anyone that wasn't Steve. Two and a half years since he'd touched anyone he wanted this bad.)

Clint was somehow an idiot and whip-smart. Clint was clumsy as hell and a freaking gymnast. Clint was so strong it was making Bucky weak for him, and he felt like he was getting pulled in so many directions that it was tying him up in knots.

Clint made Bucky laugh. He'd forgotten he knew how to do that.

"Maybe I'll come over there and sit by you someday," Clint said one night, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the gentle patter of rain. "Judge whatever you're drawing like you judge my *totally awesome* pruning skills."

Bucky's heart leapt into his throat and he nearly choked on it. He shoved up to his feet violently enough that the swing crashed into the side of the house and locked the kitchen door just as soon as it closed behind him.

Fuck. *Fuck*. Why in hell was he so goddamned *scared*?

"Hey," he said to his therapist the next day. "I want to - how do I get better at talking to people? How do I - I want to do that." He felt like an idiot, choking on his words.

He didn't go sit on the back porch for a couple of weeks.

The next time he went out, it was edging into dawn, just on the edge of whatever opposite twilight had. Clint's garden showed signs of furious activity, the bushes neat, the beds dug over, only the grass to go. It was pretty impressive work for someone who refused to use anything with a motor, not wanting to piss off his neighbours by waking them up in the middle of the night. Of course he wasn't out there. Bucky didn't even bother pretending to himself that he wasn't disappointed.

He lurked pathetically for a minute or two, looking towards the back door of Clint's house like his longing'd be enough to draw the guy out. He squinted at something leaning against the back door there, and swore when he managed to make out that it was a goddamn *scythe.* Nuh-uh, no way; he'd seen the damage the guy could do to himself with a pair of goddamn *scissors*.

"You're sure about this?" Steve said, the next morning, helping him haul the mower they'd never used over the rickety fence. Bucky was a little lightheaded about being out in the daylight, but he set his jaw; there was no way he was gonna let Clint get tetanus and die. Not without Bucky getting to kiss his dumb face first.

Steve called him downstairs that evening, after texting him once or twice to make sure it was all right. It'd given Bucky enough time to get himself dressed, something a little better than the stretched out shirts and sweatpants that were his normal attire. He came down the stairs, chewing on his lower lip, hesitating in the doorway for a moment or two before he swallowed his heart back down to where it should be and made himself walk into the lounge.

Clint looked different in lamplight. More solid, more beautiful, more like he was something that could be touched. He got to his feet as Bucky approached, shoving his hands deep into his pockets like Bucky wasn't the only one feeling tactile about this. Clint smiled, and Bucky couldn't help mirroring him, pleased at the way Clint's eyes dropped helplessly to his mouth.

"You cut my grass?"

Bucky shrugged. "I was saving you from yourself," he said, and stepped a little closer, looking up into Clint's blue eyes. "Seemed only fair; you kinda did the same for me."

[penny-beee]

surprise surprise

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff

Summary: you’re an idol and friends with Monsta X, who happen to move in down the hall from your apartment and your feelings for Wonho become known to him.

I had just finished my stage for the night, my ankles wanting to fall off from my legs, they carried me to my dressing room. My manager Soora stood in the middle of the room, phone in hand, ready to leave.

“Hey, let me change and then we can go.” I spoke, harshly as my voice had been heavily used throughout the long night.

“Alright, you also have a photo shoot at Vogue tomorrow, so I advise sleeping as soon as we get home.” She warned as she left the room so I could change.

I grabbed my overnight bag and took out my distressed boyfriend jeans, black turtleneck sweater and black docs. I slipped into my new clothing and threw my old stuff onto hangers for my people to come collect and wash. I put a white overcoat on my frail shoulders, picking up my purse and heading out of the cold and empty room. Soora was standing earnestly at the end of the hall, the keys to my G-Wagon in one of her palms, smiling I grabbed the keys and told her to follow me. We walked silently to the parking garage, careful of not being caught as it was just her and I walking.

Soora has been by my side since grade three, she was an exchange student from Korea and had been shy to everyone but me. We became friends quickly and have been inseparable since, I followed her to Korea for a change of scenery when I was eighteen, we had gotten our own apartment and she had started working at JYP Ent. while I was working at a school teaching English to children. She came home one day saying JYP wanted a new solo artist and she showed him a video of me singing one night to my parents. Proud of herself she talked me into going to the agency and being signed without any former training. JYP just said “with a voice that good and a talent for the piano, we don’t need training.” And here I am, six years later, driving a maroon wrapped G-Wagon, my own high rise apartment in Gangnam, and my best friend managing me everyday.

Before I could count to ten I had pulled up to my building, the tall glass windows sparkled in the moonlight, one reason I loved coming home so late. I parked in the numbered spot for me, Soora sniffled as she opened her door. We both walked in silence to the elevator, nothing new from us. We knew better than to talk when we were both exhausted from work. A hushed groan came from my lips as we entered the second to top floor. Brown boxes lined a few of the walls, new neighbors?

“Looks like we have new neighbors, wanna go say hi?” Soora offered.

“Why not, I’m sure it’s another old couple.”

Sighing, I grazed over to the opened door. Loud raps came from a speaker I could see on the window seal. A man peaked from around the corner. Ki-hyun?

“Ki-hyun? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” I chuckled, walking in now as if I owned his place.

“We’ve been so busy, it’s only Wonho, Minhyuk and I though. The other four are in the apartment underneath us.” He sounded out of breath when he spoke, like he had been running laps on a high school track.

“Oh. Well do you need any help unpack-“

“(Y/n) we gotta get you to bed actually. Remember the early schedule.” Soora chimed in, an awkward chuckle left her lips.

“Ah that’s right, hey, after the photo shoot tomorrow I can come help?”

“Uh, I think so. I think Minhyuk is gonna go to dinner with Jooheon and Hyunwoo, so it’ll be us and Hoseok.” Winking at the end of his dastardly sentence, I softly hit his shoulder. He knew how I felt about Hoseok, even if Hoseok himself didn’t know; it was still embarrassing.

Flashing Ki an ungrateful smile, I turned on my heel and looped my arm into Soos’. Her and I paced to my front door at the end of the hall, I punched in my four digit code and waited for the beeping to stop so the door could unlock. Swinging the wooden brick open, the moon lit up the apartment just perfectly. My wall of windows never kept me unsatisfied, Soora and I had rented the apartment together to save money.

To the left was a spacious kitchen, white marble counter tops with black cabinets sat still. A rice cooker and a fancy espresso machine being the two appliances I used most sat away from each other. A big plant took up the middle of the island, just above the stove top, and diagonal from the bar stools. As we walk in, a big grey sectional gazed out at the big city lights, a white fur rug was squished underneath, adding some texture to the solids. My favorite part was the glass coffee table, three books on Vogue Italia stacked up on the corner. A 60” tv looked down on the watcher, on the slick white wall that was just right of the couch. Down the hall to our left, sat three doors. Sooras room, her bathroom and my bedroom door. My room being to the right, opening up the white plank, a California king mattress laid on the floor in the upper corner, letting me wake up every morning to a beautiful skyline. White sheets thrown around the bed kept it relatable, a few pillows half off the bed. The back walls were all window, a few being able to open so a nice breeze could come in now and again, the two other walls that were pure masonry, held planters and a few family pictures. The wall adjacent from my master bed held a huge 72” tv, and an old white dresser my aunt had given me gave itself a home underneath the massive electronic. The last wall with the planters only kept my master bath and closet. Nothing special, my room smelled of rich perfumes and earthy plants.

I kicked off my Docs and fell onto my custom mattress. ‘Help Hoseok unpack or stay home and pretend to be sick?’ I weighed the options in my head. Hoseok debuted after I did, all of Monsta X did, so I am their sunbae, but I’m also younger, so every time I see Hoseok or Changkyun they’re extremely awkward, like they don’t know how to address me. For Hoseok I think it’s freaking adorable, but for Changkyun I think he’s just teasing me at this point, as he’s always been like an annoying older brother.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and shifted in the sheets to get comfortable. Drifting off into the world of incoherent thoughts and dreams.

The next day had passed slowly, I had been in about four outfits and four makeup looks, ranging from editorial to girl next door. Soora had gone to get me two rolls of kimbap, leaving me alone to do the interview. They questioned me on my techniques and private life, but nothing about who I am as a person, so I have them the most interesting stories and examples I could, in the end gaining their interest in my more.

“We have a deal with a few brands that we want to recommend you to, would you be up for it?” The man asked me, he had put his recorder and notebook away.

“With all due respect, I love making music and I love modeling. But I’m already so busy as it is, and I need to focus on myself at the moment, but if the offer is open at any time I would love to call you when my mind changes.” I politely declined his offer.

As much as I love modeling, I’m not just a pretty face. I have heart and character. The interview had rubbed me the wrong way, as he didn’t care about me personally and only my love life and secrets on music. So I declined.

“Alright, well here’s my card then. The issue will be in this months magazine, we’re gonna try to put you on the cover as well as a few pages for the interview.” He takes a smile and handed me his paper card.

Thanking him contently, I went to the changing room. Soora stood there with her face plastered on her phone. Stuffing her face with out of her kimbaps. “You should’ve taken it.” She sighed.

“Yeah I know but he doesn’t care about me, he cares about the money. So whatever. I’m still selling out arenas of fifty thousand almost every night.” Giggling at my random burst of confidence, I skipped to the bag that held my change of clothes. I pulled out a pair of black Nike joggers and a matching black nike sweater. To counteract I added a pair of maroon Adidas.

“Let’s go, we have to help Ki and Hoseok.” I chanted, grabbing my foil wrapped meal and bags.

“You mean ‘your-seok?” She giggles at me, standing up quickly and slapping my butt.

“Hey! Not funny, I don’t like him that much!” I shouted as I chased after her.

We had arrived at the apartment building and walked up the stairs to the seventeenth floor since we needed to work off the food we had just stuffed into our empty bellies. Again Ki-hyun left the door open, boxes still sat against the blank taupe colored walls.

“Boys?” I called out, Soora had decided to go home and take a nap so I entered alone.

“Hey! (Y/n)-ah.” Hoseok called, rushing over to give me a comforting hug. He smelled of ramen and cologne, not too surprising.

“Hi Seokie. Where’s Kiki?” I asked him, he better not have ditched on purpose.

“Oh he decided to go get food with the boys.” Hoseok gave me a gummy smile, twisting his frame ever so slightly. “He also told me a secret. I apparently have to keep it from you.” He chuckled at his candor.

“What the hell Seok! Why mention it if you can’t tell me?!” I shouted, the one thing I hated more than anything was when people started a sentence and didn’t finish it or said they had something they wanted to tell me but couldn’t. ‘Why bring it up?’

“You’ll see, it’s okay.” He smirked his left eye almost closing at his effort. “Okay, go bring in the boxes that say kitchen. You can organize the kitchen since you have good decorating skills.” He smiled, his hand lingered on my shoulder as he turned to walk away. Something was off about him.

I followed his request and squatted down for the cardboard. Both about twenty-five pounds each, luckily they were stacked on top of each other so I could easily grab them. Few beads of sweat fell down my neck, trailing under my warm sweater. I placed them on his granite island, the boxes coming up about a foot taller than me. Hoseok came out of his room shirtless, a pair of Nike workout shorts only wrapped around his torso, his hair was damp from sweat that had collected as he moved the furniture in his room. He walked with a slight waddle as he made his way to the stainless fridge, grabbing a water bottle he chugged it down.

A soft chuckle left his now damp esophagus. “Don’t stare too much (y/n) your eyes might break.”

Awkwardly, I snapped out of my trance and reached up for the highest box, bringing it down to my height. Two arms surrounded my body, vainy hands perched on the counter, I could feel his chest muscles slightly tensing. “Why didn’t you tell me you find me attractive and/or like me?” He questioned, I was frozen.

Clearing my throat, I gained some of my normal confidence and spun around, now being at an equal level to his chin. I gazed up at his brown orbs. “I’m a busy person.” Was all that came flowing out. ‘What the hell, (y/n)?!’ I internally shouted. Of all things to say, that was all that came out.

“Ah, and you think I’m not?”

“No, I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.” I shrugged halfheartedly, or.. ‘I’m too scared to start something that I know won’t be reciprocated.’ I repeated to myself.

“ What if I want to make it work and finish?” He questioned, a slight pout left his plump lips. His body came closer to mine, pinning me to the counter.

“Hey, I’m sweaty from helping..” I tried to counter argue.

No movement from him. “I don’t care, tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now and I’ll stop and we can pretend nothing happened.” His damn lips were a marketing tactic for a long ride ahead, figuratively and literally. “That’s what I thought.” And his lips met mine, as simple as that. No crazy intricate ‘fireworks’ or cheesy quotes. Just two adults making out in the kitchen.

He pulled away, his hand under my jawline, thumb pressed to my cheek. A kind and shy smile spread upon his cute face. “How long have you kept these feelings from me?” I questioned him, my hands were laid softly on his lower back. Pulling him in more, no space between our vastly different bodies.

“About three months? When you started your latest come back?” When I had come over drunk the night of my MV release and baked cookies all night.. the night I was so trashed I danced to the poppy music I grew up to and baked in his sweatshirt I found lying on the couch. The morning him and Jooheon woke up to me passed out on the couch with a plate of cookies sleeping on my stomach. “I didn’t think I would like you this much, but I’m glad it is being reciprocated. You lying there on my couch in my sweater, chocolate faced and cuddling a plate of sweets. Damn, I couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, stretching the back of his damp neck with his fingertips.

“You ate all those cookies before I even woke up..” I awkwardly laughed at his tender confession.

“Well, would you like to officially go on a date? Or just stand in this position?” He winked, knowing he was shirtless and sweaty, he grabbed my chin between his index finger and thumb and pecked my lips. “Get ready princess, I have an idea.”

And with that, three years later, here I lay, my head in the crook of my now fiancés neck. The morning sun muted from the white curtains that swayed in the breeze. We had gotten a new apartment, not as fancy as the last but definitely bigger. His muscular arms were secured around me, almost protectively so I couldn’t leave him in the middle of the night for water. His light snores and hushed speaking silenced as his eyes opened. Looking down, he saw my gaze and smiled wholeheartedly. Hugging me tighter, we laid engulfed in each other’s realities.

[lifeofbouyd]

12 Years Anniversary

Fred: Yow, da gyal deh nice eno bwoy. Mi ago circle har enz an try get di digits.

He walked away, heading straight towards her. Walking as if he was going to collect a trophy. She was nice, really nice, that I must admit. She’s one of the nicest girls I had seen in a long time. Her hair was well done, her nails freshly painted or at least so they seemed. Her face, done to perfection and her dress, looked expensive. It swung a little above her ankles and rested perfectly on her body. Outlining her killer shape. She had a gold ring on her “wedding” finger and stainless steel on her pinky. I watched them greet each other and what actually caught my eyes was, how much of a lady she was. She seemed well groomed and too good for my liking. A “goody two shoes” was my first thought. Girls like these are normally either married, rich, or have a rich man taking care of them. I smelled trouble, yet there was so much desire. I felt like she was worth having. Not just for a night, but someone I’d be with for a while. They exchanged numbers as I pulled that fairytale thought from my mind. I hexed that shit. I was already in a sinking ship, no land in sight. I’d rather drown on my sinking ship that jumps across on her boat.

Fred: Yuh see how di genna work youth. Ago fuck that quick eno. Yuh zimi.

I humored him, knowing he normally never pulls through with these kinds of chicks. I’ve seen it one too many times to think differently. Fred was good when it comes to picking up girls, but he’s always had me as his role model. I was lucky when it came to women. Always getting the “better-looking ones”. Most of which turned out to be faces without priorities. I’ve had to learn the hard way that not all glitters is gold. Sometimes they’re not even gold filled. Days passed and I had forgotten about her. He didn’t mention her and I never remember to ask. I guess when you have your hands full it’s hard to keep up with likes. I spotted her one day staring at, and from the looks of it, she had been staring for a while. Taking in my presence as if she wanted me to say hi. I hadn’t heard him mention her I a while but I still didn’t want to take his link like that. I learned later that day that she had no interest in men. She considered them a total waste of her time and feels she’s better off with girls. Now I shared her view. I love girls just as much as she does. I’ve always had a Fetish for lesbian. Clean girly lesbians that is. I’d never fuck a butch even if she paid me to. I imagined all the things she’d do to me, and all the things I’d do to them. Mostly what I’d do to her. I still didn’t say hi for a while. I wanted to build the suspense between us and make the first conversation memorable. I planned it down to the very last second, every possible outcome, and I always walked away with her number. Again, I caught her watching me. Paying keen attention to me from head to toe. I got my convo together, but by the time I turned around again, she was gone. I argued with myself for a while until I accepted the fact that I was moving too slow. Again I forgot about her. Living my best life. Caught up chasing other chicks I was brave enough to start a conversation with.

Someone pats me in the shoulder.

Her: Hi, I’m Rachel. Wasn’t sure when you were gonna say hi, or if you ever would so I decided to be the first to say hi.

I took a few seconds to inhale her cologne and pay keen attention to her Weldon’s face, her pussy cheeks spreading over her pants crotch crease. Her breast sticking me in the face, her slippers which seemed she got it from House of Style or some other expensive women clothing outlet.

Her: 🙃 You can say hi you know. I won’t bite, at least not yet. I wanna get to know you first.

I froze. My palms got sweaty and heart heated like a fifty caliber gun. Well, she did say she wouldn’t bite me. At least not yet. Obviously, she was interested in getting to know me. But why me though? Of all the guys she could have, if all the guys that had been chasing her, why get to know me? I entertained her conversation and played it cool. Acting like I didn’t want her. Our conversations started off slow with basic texts and friendly flirting. Somehow she killed my urge by saying she Christian. I don’t mind dating Christians, but what I don’t like is someone consistently reminding me. She tried to get me to see eye to eye with her beliefs, but I just wasn’t ready to take that journey. I only plan on getting married and baptized once and I don’t intend to do it for the wrong reasons. We stopped talking for a while because I had decided not to chase her. It was more like respecting her religion and not trying to get between her legs. We went from 2:00 am calls to every other day texting. It became somewhat of a long distance relationship or friendship or whatever it was. I had accepted the fact that I wasn’t gonna have her, at least not as easy as I thought. In my mind, she would give me her number and I’d take her home and make her scream my name. But reality..... mmm. Reality is a bitch.

Lucky for me, I saw her one evening when I was buying dinner at a famous Chinese food place. I offered to pay for her food however, she ended up paying for mine. Trying to show she’s independent I guess. We sat and chat for a while which made me realize we had a lot in common. She braced her body against mine for the first time when she was leaving. She whispered in my ear, “This could be all yours if you’re a good boy.” She sent chills down my spine and made my dick rock hard. She ran her hand across the front of my pants and smiled. I didn’t know if it was a good or a bad smile but I’m sure I could drill a wall with my shaft. I walked her to her stand where she laid a wet “chups” on my forehead. You know that trickling feeling you get when electricity runs through your body? That’s the effect she had on me. We sext all night, building curiosity between us two. She told me how she wanted to make me cum all over her and sanctify her with my rod. Now, I don’t like to count my eggs before they hatch, but I considered it a done deal. A few days passed and the fetish became a relationship. One I’ll always remember. The funny thing about it is, I had no plans whatsoever to be in any form of ships. But I was too far out in the sea by the time I realized what I had gotten into. To be honest, I really didn’t mind. Everything seemed ok. She said there was no husband, no boyfriend, no girlfriend or anyone of that nature, and she never gave me a reason to doubt her. Before I knew it I was in love. Head over heels kind of love. Shit. I wanted to run but I couldn’t. She had me hooked on her like a coke headed drunky. We moved from occasional hugging and texting to kissing and phone sex. I knew girls were horny but damn, she had no stop in her. It would seem she hadn’t been eating for a while and was just trying to take all she could get. I was down for that.

I invited her over one weekend with intentions of fixing her business. I cleaned the place from floor to ceiling and made it smell like a five-star resort. I even did a fancy spread on the bed to sell the look. White fluffy carpet on the floor and breathtaking scented candles lit on the wall. I loaded an Amazon video for her to watch while I took a shower. I came out in nothing but my towel on, trying to look super sexy for her. I popped us a bottle of Grey Goose and made my deluxe mix with a bottle of Rosè. A sweet, lingering, sparkling mix. Halfway between the first glass, she was already half naked, making herself at home. She turned the movie off and started playing sex songs. I watched her stretch and touched her toes before whining out her bra and underwear. Squeezing her nipples and biting her lips. Now I’ve seen a lot of fat pussy in my life, but she had something different. “Too bad you don’t eat”, she said with a smirk on her face. But even I did, I’m sure I’d suffocate somewhere there 😂. She pulled the towel off and reached for my dick. She gently stroked it as she ran her tongue up and down my leg. I couldn’t help but hold her head each time she moved. The sensation was unbearable. She then sat on top and slid her pussy back and forth the length of my cock, causing her to get super wet. Less than a minute or two she had already cum. “No condom, no love”, she said. Sliding her self back and forth on my dick. I slid my hand in the pillowcase and pulled out three packs of condoms. Scented, glow in the dark and ribbed. I slipped a ribbed on and made her ride herself to another orgasm before flipping her over on her back. I pulled her to the edge of the bed and beat her clit with my shaft. That shit made her squirt. Her pussy was gushing cum and I hadn’t even started beating it up yet. I slid my way inside her and stroked her slow and deep. Holding her neck with one hand while I held her leg with the other. Her eyes rolled back, she screamed my name, she vibrated, and vibrated, and vibrated again. All this cumin made her weak. I had her lap her legs around my waist and her hands around my neck. Standing upright, I held her waist and pulled her back and forth the length of my shaft, causing her to squirt like a broken wipe. She released her hand from around my neck and almost hit the floor. All that fun had made her weak. I braced her against the wall, high enough to give her the full length of my dick. I kissed and fucked and sucked her nipples until she begged me to cum. I spread her legs wide and struck her like lightning until I exploded. Again, she flooded me. Squirting so much the floor was soaked. She was so tired she fell asleep the moment I put her back on the bed. She was knocked the fuck out.

I had to drive her home that night. She was too tired to even bathe herself. We fucked several times after that and had many picnic dates which made me want her even more. Who does a picnic and have sex in the bushes? Before I knew what hit me we were inseparable. Living the life. #Relationshipgoals #Happylife #Bae. I had given in, putting my heart on the line. Expecting hers in return. I had it, I’m sure I did. God knows I had it. But like everything else in my life, that got fucked too. I remember being home one weekend, watching a movie and texting some chicks when my phone rang. A random 876 number. I don’t normally answer numbers I don’t know, but this person was calling a number very few people have. It must be pretty important. What if it’s work? What if it’s an x I haven’t seen in a while and would love to bang again. I missed the first call. I figured if it was important they’d call again. My other Jamaican number started ringing. To my surprise, it was the same number. Obviously, this person wanted something so I answered. I stayed mute and so did the caller. The call ran for like two minutes before the caller said hello.

Caller: Bouyd.... Hello, is this Bouyd?

Me: Who dis?

Caller: You don’t know me but I know you. I’m calling to warn you before you get too deep and something happens to you.

Me: What? Warn me? From who? Who’s this?

Caller: I’m Craig, Rachel’s man.

Me: Which Rachel?

Caller: The someone you tucked last week and dropped off after eleven.

Me: 😳🙄🤭😏🤤. I chuckled to myself for a few before responding. Oh, that Rachel, I know her pretty well. I see you know a lot.

Caller: Yes. I watched you follow her in and squeezed her ass at the door before leaving. I could have knocked you out but I chose not to.

Me: 😂🤣😳🤔 now this is serious. How could he possibly know this? Was he actually there? I bet this is a prank call. Breda, wa yuh want? Mi nuh run certain joke eno bad man. Talk fast or walk fast eno.

Caller: A loud mouth won’t help you son.

I hissed my teeth and ended the call. Who does he think he is? Calling me so late at night to talk about rubbish. At the same time, I was worried. He spoke facts. He knew exactly what I did. I did see a white car parked across the street that night that wasn’t normally there. He messaged me on WhatsApp to answer my phone. Like wtf? How did he even get my WhatsApp number? He called again and I answered. He explained who he was and how he fits in the big picture. He made me tea how long he’s been paying attention to my movements. He knew when we fucked, where we fucked, where we went on dates and even some stuff I’ve only told her. What stood out to me most was when he said, “I could have hurt you so many times but I chose not to because I figured she played you well. He sent me pictures to prove his speech and gave me very detailed information that he had acquired about over a few weeks. I didn’t know what to do. “Now that you know, it’s up to you to decide what you do from here.” He said good night and hung up.

Leaving me in suspense. A million questions ran through my messages be. How could she do this to me? How did a twelve years relationship fit in our four months of dating? Is that even possible? She never slipped up, she never gave me a reason to doubt her. She made me believe that I could have someone for me, myself and I. She made me open up and let her in. Shit 😔. Did I shit in a fucking church or something? Don’t I deserve to be happy without hiccups too. Sigh 😔. Where did I go wrong? Did I fall for her too quickly, did I put my basket where I can’t reach it, is this karma, did I hurt someone who God wants me to repent for? What do I say to her? Should I stay with her, is it safe. I thought with both my heads as I wanted to ensure I made the right decision. I loved her and I love fucking her, but is it worth my life? Would she die for me? What would she do if she was in my shoes? Do I even mention this to her? Sigh 😔. I stayed all night wondering if he had followed me home and was outside waiting for me to act us to ambush me 🤔. She called me several times but I didn’t answer. Could it be a test? What if he was using her phone to call me to see if I would answer? What if she was calling me to say it was a prank? I grew paranoid. He told me to be patient until I see her and I will see that everything he told me was true. So said so done. The new hair do courtesy of, the brand new phone and the marks on her neck. I wanted it to be a joke, I wanted her not to show up the way he said she would. I swallowed my heart that day. Tears ran down my cheeks and I couldn’t stop crying. Why was I crying though? It’s not like it’s first I’ve fucked a nigga’s chick. What was so special about her that I didn’t want to share? Then it hit me, it’s simply because I had fallen in love with an illusion she created. She had created me a photoshop life in 3D. I told her what happened and I told her how I felt. Shit, I even had the guts to say it was over.

She tried for weeks to explain that they were no longer together but I was beyond her white lies. She sent sexy pictures to make me miss fucking her, which I actually did. But I just couldn’t see past what happened. I guess I felt like I was cheated out the chance to choose to date her while she had someone. I would have felt a lot better if she had told me this from the start. I wouldn’t have had my expectations so high. She taught me a lesson that will part me through life. A woman knows what she wants and she knows just how to get it. Women don’t get caught cheating unless they want to get caught, and a woman will create the life she thinks you want to live.i could have lost my life, #Dead. To top it off she said I was ungrateful. She had put her life in jeopardy to be with me and I repaid her by breaking up with her and taking his side. But if she did that to him, what would she do to me? He had the house, the money, the car and I had nothing but a good old dick. I guess that’s what she wasn’t at home.

Life isn’t always about what you can offer. Everybody want vanity, but if they ain’t getting the amount of attention, sex or fun that they’re looking for; “bun” will be your best friend.

[all-sortsa-stuff]

A new start, part 14

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 3257

Warning: Language, angst, fluff

 Part 13

The phone had been relatively quiet over the last few days.  There was not one call or text from Chris as he had promised.   Your family still texted at least once a day until you got back.  Then it felt like they all converged on you.  Jake and your parents invited themselves over for dinner the first night you were back home.  At first, they all seemed to be brimming with excitement until they realized your mood was not what they thought it should have been.  Then the questions started.

“[Y/N] what is wrong honey? You getting’ sick?”  Your mother walked over putting her hand on your forehead as she always did when checking for a fever.

“No Momma, I’m fine. It’s just been a long month and I’m exhausted.  I just need a few days to recuperate.”  Three sets of eyes stared at you from around the table.  No one believed a word you said, but they were smart and refrained from pressing further.  Dinner passed and they all left you to your quiet misery.  As tired as you were it was difficult to fall asleep.  You could only think of how the conversation would go when you finally called Chris back.  Would you reconcile or would you end your relationship?  The turmoil in your mind did not make for a sound sleep.

 Just after dawn, you were up to feed the animals.  It had been so long since you were able to spend any time with the goats.  After feeding them and cleaning out their portion of the barn you made sure their pasture had hay as the colder weather was killing off the grass.  When you had moved on to the horses’ stalls, you heard footsteps coming through the barn. By the sounds of the heavy tread, you knew it was your father.  “Want any help, Sugar?”

“No, I’m good Daddy. It’s been a while since I have done it. I told Jake I would give him the week off from doing it.”  Trying to avoid looking at him directly in the eye, you continued to shovel the droppings into the wheelbarrow.  

“You must be exhausted. I have never known you to want to muck the stalls.”  His short laugh, you knew was to test your mood.  When you did not respond, there was no doubt things were not right.  However, he said nothing as he leaned against the doorway.  

“They are my animals; I need to take care of them too.”  When his silence continued, you glanced up seeing that face he always gave you when he was waiting on you to confide in him.  “Dad don’t…  Please.”

“I ain’t doing a thing darlin’.  I’m just standing here watching my girl shovel horseshit.”  You frowned over at him before tossing another shovel full into the wheelbarrow.  

“I know what you are trying to do.  It won’t work.  I don’t want to talk about it.”

“There’s more of that horseshit, just coming right out of your mouth.”  He crossed his arms over his chest, staring directly, at what felt like, your soul.  There was no way he was going to leave it like this until he understood why his daughter was acting like that.  You looking up at him, as he raised a brow and the lump grew in your throat.

“Daddy, please.  I can’t.”  Your voice was gravelly as you tried to keep from crying.

“Whose ass needs a round of buckshot in it?  My rifle is itching to get some use lately.  Your momma won’t let me go huntin’ much anymore.”  Laughing quietly you tried to hide the sniffle that escaped as you looked down at the ground.

“Just things happen and I’m trying to figure out what to do.  That’s all.”  

“Just go ahead and pile it on thicker, [Y/N].  I’m waitin’ to see if you can drown in the shit that you are piling up.”  Throwing the shovel on top of the wheelbarrow you lifted it to take it to the pile out back.

“You sound like Mom.”

“Yeah well after thirty-some-odd of marriage you are bound to pick up some things.”  Your father followed you out back as you dumped the remnants of the load.

“You gonna tell me what that boy did?  Or do I gotta call him myself and find out?  Because I happen to have his number in my phone.  Won’t take but a moment to get a hold of him.”  This was the first time you could remember that your father had resorted to a threat to get something out of you.

“No!  Don’t call Chris!  It’s…  How did you get his phone number?”  Eli’s face went white a moment as though he had revealed something he was not supposed to. It made you more suspicious.  “Dad…  how did you get Chris’s number?”

“Never mind that. What is going on between you two? And if you tell me ‘nothing’ again I will set your momma on you.”  Damn twice in the span of thirty seconds, he was serious.

“Fine…”  The story of it all came out.  It hurt just as much as when it happened the weeks prior and made you even more confused as to what to do.  Your father though just laughed.  

“Are you laughing at me? Dad this is serious.”  Teared welled up as you watched him shake his head.

“No baby I ain’t laughing at you.  I’m laughing ‘cause boys are stupid.  Doesn’t matter who they are, they do dumb shit.  The girl that Jake finally settles down with will know that too.  Ask your momma about how stupid they are.”  It made you feel a little better that he was not laughing directly at your pain, but it was still pain.

“Momma doesn’t think you are stupid.  I know she thinks you hung the moon.”  Your father scoffed at you as he put his arm around you.

“Gini loves me that ain’t no secret.  And I love her to the moon and back, even though she drives me damn near crazy every day.  But no relationship is perfect.  There is always a fight or something you gotta work on.  She ever tell you about our Christmas formal when we first starting seeing each other?”  Thinking back to the many stories your mother had told you over the years, you were not sure you remembered that one.

“I don’t think so. Why?”  Eli pulled you over to sit next to him on one of the hay bales before telling his story.

“She probably didn’t tell you because she doesn’t want to remember that night much.  Though I remember it, clear as day.  Gini wore this pretty dress.  It made those green eyes of hers just sparkle.  We were… damn I think fifteen or so.  I was nervous as a sinner in church and trying to keep my cool.  It had been a fine night, we danced and danced.  After a bit I went to go get her a drink like a gentleman should.  When I came back Bobby Tucker, that smooth sod, was talkin’ to your momma.  Well… I may have gotten a little angry and words were said.  By the end of it, Bobby Tucker was missin’ his front tooth and Gini was standing there screaming at me like a banshee for hurting her friend.  She didn’t talk to me for near a month after that.  I was heartbroken, [Y/N].  I tried for a while to make it up to her but after a bit I gave up thinking with my fifteen year old heart I lost the girl I love.”  No wonder why your mother never wanted to tell that story.  Your father looked sad thinking about the old memory.

“Obviously she talked to you again though.”  A smile appeared as he nodded over to you.

“Yes she did.  She got wind of me turning down Mary Johns after the football game.  Mary Johns was the most popular girl in school and all the boys wanted a date with her. She asked me to take her out one night and I turned her down flat.  Gini cornered me after I got out of work one day wanting to know why.  So I told her the truth.  I told Gini that Mary Johns had nothing on her and I wanted to be with her. That was start of what we got here. Two babies we love more than life itself, a good piece a land that I get to grow things in, and a good truck I can drive ‘round in.  Plus I get to see that smile of your momma’s every day.  I couldn’t ask for more.”  Was is possible to let go of the hurt and allow Chris’s apologies in?  It felt good to hear someone else had dealt with something similar and made it through just fine.

“I’m telling you this because I know you, [Y/N].  You hold it all in, letting it eat at you.  Relationships are hard and the road ain’t always smooth.  There are bumps in it but you get stronger for them.  If this boy is your heart like I think he is, don’t let this bump ruin what could be the best thing to ever happen to you. Listen to what he has to say and then let your mind and heart makes its choice.  How many times has he tried to call you?”

You laughed as you wiped a tear from your cheek.  “I lost count after the first couple days.  It was a lot.  And texts too.”

“See there, that boy loves you and wants to work this out.  Just talk to him.  Will you do that for me?”

“I will talk to him, I promise.”  He kissed your forehead before standing up.

“Good girl.  I will leave you to it; I have a herd to get back to the main pasture before the frost sets in tonight.  Make sure those goats are settled before dark, it’s gonna be a cold one.”  Nodding you stood up to give him a quick hug.

“I will Daddy.  Thank you.”  With a sigh, you went back to cleaning the rest of the stalls.  Your back was sore by midday when you had finished with everything.  It had been a while since you had done so much work on the farm.  Now you were fantasizing about a long hot bath and a glass of wine.  You did not care that it was only noon.  The cold crisp breeze was bringing a pink tinge to your cheeks and sending your hair blowing in all directions.  If Hollywood could see you now.  Dirty, sweaty from the farm work, with no make-up and smelling just lovely.  The trash magazines would have a field day with your picture now.

As you left the barn, you could see someone standing on your back porch in a dark pair of jeans and a flannel shirt.  You did not understand why Jake had not just come to find you in the barn.  He knew where you were going to be.  Getting closer to the house, you saw that it definitely was not Jake.  Chris was standing with his hands in his pockets, a tentative smile on his face, watching you as you walked up.  It had been over a month since the last time you had seen him

“Hey, [Y/N].  I… I couldn’t wait for a phone call.  I needed to see you.”  His voice made your stomach flip.  “I know I probably shouldn’t have shown up here… You asked me to leave you alone for a while…”

“It’s okay… I… just wasn’t expecting to see you.  I was going to call you later.  After I showered and didn’t feel like I lived in a barn.”  Afraid to step closer you had stopped just short of the porch.

“Umm I don’t want to stop you from your shower or anything… I’m an idiot... I’m sorry I should have waited. I was just… I feel like I’m dying every day without you.”  Chris’s eyes filled with tears as he nervously cracked his knuckles.

“Look, let me get a shower and clean up.  I feel disgusting, I smell worse and I don’t even want to look in the mirror.  I can only image the terrifying image I would find there.”  Slow steps towards the door you unzipped your jacket, laying it over the porch rail, not wanting to bring anymore of the smell inside.

“You look beautiful. You always do.”  You shook your head as he followed you inside.  

“Yeah I don’t think so. There is plenty to drink in the fridge and the remote there if you want to watch T.V.  I will try not to take long.”  Once you got to the stairs, you all but ran to your room trying to prevent yourself from hyperventilating.  Seeing Chris standing on your porch was a sight you had not expected so soon. Stripping your clothes and throwing them into the laundry basket you turned the shower to the hottest temperature it would produce.  

Glancing in the mirror had been a mistake, because you looked worse than you had thought.  Dirt smudged over your pink cheeks, with a rat’s nest of hair on top of your head.  The man was losing his mind if he thought you looked beautiful.  

As you showered, there were so many scenarios going through your mind on how the conversation would go. So many in fact, that by the time you finished the shower you had worked yourself up into an anxiety filled hot mess. You did not bother to dry your hair, deeming it unsafe as your hands were shaking.  Instead, you pulled it up into a wet bun on the back of your head. Clean clothes followed quickly, though you left your feet bare.  Chris was sitting on the couch in the silence with his head in his hands.  He must have been in his own world because he did not hear you come down the stairs or enter the room until you had gone to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.  As he heard the door open, he jumped up in surprise.

“Oh… you are done. That was quick.  I mean you could have taken your time.  No rush or anything.”  He looked nervous and you hated it.  Hated this whole situation and what it had done to you both.

“I didn’t want to drag this out.  Like pulling off band aid or something.”  You took a seat on the reclining chair across from him, pulling your legs up beneath you. It felt safer pulling everything close.

“That sounds, well awful. I don’t want this to be awful. [Y/N] I need you to know how much of an utter idiot I am.  I am so sorry for everything.  I was drunk and I don’t know why I let a stupid tabloid picture get into my head. Normally it wouldn’t have made me think twice.”  He rambled on for another few minutes, deprecating himself further, trying to explain his mistake. Though he owned up to all of it. None of it was an excuse for his behavior and that made you even the slightest bit better.  Having someone that would not make excuses for their horrible behavior was important.

The conversation with your father earlier came back to the forefront of your mind.  No one was perfect and Lord knew how many mistakes you had made in your life and honestly had made your own in this situation as well.  Chris was wringing his hands as he spoke now as he sat on the edge of the couch.  “Please say something I am going crazy here. Yell if you need to.  Just something please…”

The pleading in his eyes put a vice around your heart.  “I’m not going to yell.  It wouldn’t do anything.”  There was no look of relief on his face, as you had not said anything to give him an idea either way of what you were thinking.  “Chris when you called me… it is difficult to describe everything I was feeling.  But I was hurt, very hurt that you would even think that.”

“I know. I am so…” Stopping him from going further, you wanted to get it all out before he said anything.

“Let me finish.” Chris took a long breath, giving you an apologetic smile.  “I let the hurt fester inside me which was the wrong thing to do.  I made a mistake by running from the problem and not talking to you about it.  Even if it was something that lead to the end of this relationship.  It needed to be talked out.  It’s one thing to need a little time to think things over but it’s a completely other thing to run.”

“[Y/N] no, this was completely on me.  I did this to us.”  Raising a brow at him as he had interrupted again.  “Oh sorry. I’ll shut up.”

You smiled for the first time in a while before you continued.  “It’s rarely just one person.  Yes, you made a huge idiotic mistake that hurt me.  But I could have prevented this from dragging out so long. I’m sorry for that.”

“You are killing me.” Chris’s head went back into his hands as he agonized over what you were saying and not saying.  While you had taken some responsibility for his mistakes, you had not said a word to how this was going to proceed.  Would you relationship continue?

Standing from the chair, you walked over to sit beside him, pulling him close.  He buried his face in your neck, hugging tightly.  “I’m not letting you go.  Just promise me from here on out you trust me.  If there is no trust then there is no point to this.”

“I promise.  I trust you completely.  I’m just an idiot.”  The words were muffled as he spoke into your neck.  His arms tightened further around you.

“And stop saying things like that.  I can’t stand it.”  You kissed the top of his head.

“Fine can I say meatball instead?”  Laughing you lifted his face to look him in the eye.

“I guess meatball is acceptable.”  Chris laughed before placing a soft kiss on your lips.  “I’ve missed this so much.  I hate being away from you.”

“Me too.  Which before all the mess started I was going to talk to you about…”  The back sliding door slid open and your mother walked in.

“Oh look at you two so happy!  It’s time to break out the champagne I think!!!  Where is it? Let me see it, let me see it.” Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked between your mother and Chris.

“Mom what are you talking about?”  She stopped short half way to the couch.

“Oh… I… You two look like… well aren’t you celebrating?”  The look on her face matched the odd one your father had worn earlier when you asked how he had Chris’s number.  “Jake told me Chris was here and…  Well hot damn I better leave you two alone.”

You were not sure when the last time you had seen your mother retreat that quickly.  “What was that all about?”

Chris shrugged trying his best to feign a confused look.  “I have no idea.”

Something was going on. At some point when you were ready to leave Chris’s embrace you would find out.  However, until then you cuddled up closer to him, taking in everything you had missed over the last weeks.

 Part 15

Tags: @feelmyroarrrr  @bolontiku  @aquabrie   @malindacath  @almondbuttercup  @thegirlwithnodragontattoo @magellan-88  @jensenxnina  @thedoctorsnerdgirl  @waywardswain @tacohead13  @beckyboo1188  @pegasusdragontiger   @our-chaoticwhispers @smoothdogsgirl  @kitty11223   @sf0206 @debzybrazy @theresnotenoughwords  @smurfielovesyouu @adeptkillsyasse  @castallandiangelo @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @white-chocolate-mocha-fan  @supernaturallymarvellous  @cinema212 @emmatron  @suz-123

[karasunocurry]

R18 DaiSuga/KuroYaku fic

HELLO GUYS It’s been like five years (actually 2?) that this fic has been in progress and bc I’m getting sick of not finishing it, I’m just gonna start uploading it. Chapter one is out! So far it’s just fluffy & smutty DaiSuga content, set in my personal future-verse. So they’re college students, they rent an apartment together, and Daichi’s bday is coming up so Suga’s yearly surprise is a trip to a Ryokan up in the mountains. You could probably read only this and ch. 2 if you’re just into DaiSuga and don’t want to get involved in the foursome xD

LINK to read  -> on AO3 

  PREVIEW under the cut

“This place is nice,” Suga commented as he looked out over the inner garden of the ryokan they were staying at. He stood on the balcony with his jacket, scarf and woollen hat still on. Because of the mountainous area they were in, it was colder up here than it was at the station where they left.

Daichi joined him, his breath coming out in a single large cloud. “It's great. You always manage to surprise me, Suga.”

The silver-haired man turned to his lover and smiled contently. “That's part of my boyfriend duties, isn't it?”

Daichi laughed his short but genuine laugh in reply, for the umpteenth time thinking how lucky he was to have Suga – wonderful, beautiful, caring and daring Suga. This trip, too, had been his idea, to get away from their daily life at the end of the year and spend New Year's with the two of them. For Christmas they'd gone back home to see their families already – meaning all family obligations had been fulfilled. Normally it would be the other way around, but with Daichi's birthday being the 31st of December, their family and friends were used to the routine.

Daichi looped his arm around Suga's waist and pulled him closer, whispering another thank you with a nuzzle near his ear and a kiss on his cheek. Suga's fair cheeks had turned pink from the cold outside air during their walk from the bus stop to the inn, and felt cool to the touch too.

Suga heaved a light happy sigh as he looked up at Daichi and returned the kiss with one of his own, his lips at least warmer than his cheeks. “Hey, should we visit the hot spring before or after dinner?”

Daichi tilted his head for a bit, considering the advantages of each option. It was dinner time now, and the bath would be open until midnight anyway. Although a hot bath now would warm them up even better than food could.

“Mmh, let's eat first. I don't think I wanna get dressed properly any more after bathing.”

Suga nodded and they both went back inside, the heater which had been turned on on maximum strength was doing all it could to make their room agreeably warm. The inn had their own small restaurant, accessible from the main street.Apparently, it was well-known for serving nice traditional lunch and dinner set menu's, a good range of sake and local beers and delicious Japanese sweets.

They hadn't even taken off their coats once after arriving, but travelling had made both young men hungry. They left the inn only to enter the restaurant right next to it, welcomed by the smell of  food, a gentle murmur of voices and clattering of plates.

A waiter brought them to a small table at the side and recited the menu of the day before he left them to make their choice and press the 'call' button to make their order. Suga had read that the daily special was always worth it so he went with that, while Daichi pondered over the gyudon set menu.

“You should take something special,” Suga suggested gently, his hand on Daichi's wrist.

“This gyudon is plenty special,” Daichi objected, taking the matter seriously, “besides, it's not my birthday yet.”

Suga laughed; for the invalid reason to avoid 'special' food, and just because Daichi was as adorable as ever. He deeply loved every bit of his boyfriend, even as he wondered what he should have for dinner on the evening before his birthday and was most tempted to opt for the simplest dish.

They made their order (Daichi did pick gyudon), and witnessed the restaurant filling up quickly while they waited for their food.

“Seems we came in right on time,” Suga commented with a nod to the customers being seated while waiting in line for a spot to open up. He took a good swig of his beer and licked his lips.

Not much later their food was brought over on two large serving trays, containing their set menus. Suga could swear he saw Daichi's eyes sparkle when he looked at his main dish, numerable side dishes and pickles. He even took the large serving, and Suga had to admit that the huge pile of juicy-looking beef strips looked great.

“Koushi? I can see you eyeing my beef,” Daichi chastised his boyfriend sternly.

Suga looked up slowly and grinned a bit. “I'm always eyeing your beef, honey,” he said before focusing on his own meal. His was at least as good, but fish-based. There was a seafood salad, crab miso, his main dish and some nice and fresh side dishes.

They ate slowly, truly enjoying their food and each other's company. They'd both been very busy lately, and seemed to find little time for the other despite living together. And even then, doing chores together was part of their life, but it wasn't exactly romantic to do your talk of the day over the dishes.

They didn't need to talk a lot, but Suga usually found subjects of conversation that kept them both going, even if it was something silly or far-fetched. Suga made Daichi smile and think and reconsider – but he never reconsidered their relationship.

To Daichi, Suga was what made him feel complete. It had been like that since high school, Daichi realized later. Suga was always there to back him up, balance him out and simply enhance who he was. Daichi couldn't be more grateful, and was beyond happy when Suga suggested making this trip. In fact, he felt slightly bad about not being the one to come with that idea, but he promised himself that next time, it would be his turn to come with a surprise.

LINK to read the rest -> on AO3

[kihyunspanda]

Angel

(This is my first attempt at a moodboard. Don’t judge me too harshly. 😅)

Pairing: Husband!Min Yoongi x Reader (female)

Domestic/Marriage AU

Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Fluff. Oh yeah… I forgot… Fluff.

Word Count: 1,694

Warnings: Cheesy Yoongi and non-sexual intimacy

Summary: After working on her birthday, ___ comes home to find her husband waiting with a surprise.

A/N: @yoongi-n-jin requested a Yoongi fluff but left the plot up to me. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I had a shitty day at work and since my birthday is soon, I decided to write for both of us. Love ya, Emily! 😘

You walked up the stairs to the front door of your home. You were tired and frustrated. Not only did they make you work on your birthday, but they also had you doing twice the work. Now that you were so close to your bed, the exhaustion hit you even harder. All you wanted was to lay down and take a nap.

As you entered the foyer, you tossed your keys into the bowl sitting on the hall table. You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse and jacket onto the coat rack. Finally. You were home.

“Babe! I’m home!” You yelled into the house. Your husband was usually off in his studio working on his music, so you would just let him know you were home and then did your own thing until dinner. It was comfortable that way. But today was different.

“Hello, my love.” Yoongi steps out from the living room where it looked like he had been waiting for you to get home.

“Yoongi…”

“Before you say anything,” He grabbed your hands. “I know this might be a bit out of the ordinary, but it’s your birthday. I want to celebrate the day that an angel was placed on this earth just for me.” Yoongi smirks and places a kiss on the end of your nose.

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband,” You tease. You remove your hands from his and place them around his neck to bring him in closer. You place a soft kiss on his lips. “As much as I love this super cheesy moment, I’m tired and I don’t feel like doing anything other than staying home and sleeping.”

Yoongi pulls back to look you in the eyes. “I know. But you can’t sleep just yet.” You open your mouth to protest but he puts a hand up to signal he’s not done. “I have something special planned for tonight. I think you’re going to love it. I know how hard you’ve been working, so I want to help you relax a bit.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. “Undress,” He commands.

You raise your eyebrows and start to unbutton your blouse. “Yoongi, really? Sex?”

He laughs and hands you a fluffy bathrobe. “No. As great as that sounds, not tonight. Tonight is about you getting some rest. I mean… unless you want to?” His brown eyes sparkle with amusement and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You giggle and finish stripping off your clothes. Yoongi admires you as you do so. He just can’t believe how lucky he is to have someone like you. You’re beautiful and hard-working. Yet you know how to loosen up and have fun. You tolerate his tendency to spend hours upon hours in his studio. You bring him food and take care that he actually eats. When he falls asleep on the studio couch, you always cover him up with a blanket. He loves you so much and couldn’t imagine life without you.

You’re sitting on the toilet lid in your bathrobe waiting for Yoongi to finish filling up the tub. He drew you a bubble bath to relax your muscles and ease the tension in your body. He had insisted on playing you some soft music he mixed and lighting candles for you. Your heart fluttered and you had to hold in a giggle when his face turned serious as he struggled with lighting the candles. He was just too cute.

Yoongi isn’t always this extra with affection, but you weren’t going to complain. You dropped your robe and then eased into the hot water and it made you moan. Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad it’s already working.“

Yoongi moves to leave, but you reach out with your dry hand and grab his wrist. “Won’t you join me? Please? I really need you right now.”

He looks down at you and back out the door. “That wasn’t in the agenda, but why not? Give me a second to grab something and I’ll be back.”

Yoongi disappears and you scoot yourself up in the bathtub to make room for him. He reappears a couple of minutes later with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He holds them up and your favorite gummy smile makes its way onto his face.

He pours the wine into both glasses and hands them to you to hold while he stripped down, taking care not to burn himself. He quickly flicked off the lights and shut the door before sliding in the space behind you.

The bath was still hot, and with two bodies, it stayed fairly warm for a while. You both sipped your wine and just relaxed. Your breathing fell into step with Yoongi’s as you rested your head on his shoulder. You were enjoying this peaceful feeling. Your husband was right there with you. The soft glow of the candlelight made the skin of his hand look like marble as it held yours. The music he created just for you made your heart swell. You let out a satisfied sigh and close your eyes.

Yoongi then set both of your empty glasses on the floor. Once they’re out of the way, he brings his hands back into the water and you feel his fingers slowly trace up your arms to your shoulders where he starts to massage them. You groan in pleasure. You can almost hear his smile as you melt in his hands.

“Yoongi. That feels amazing.”

He lets out a puff of air that is not quite a laugh. “I knew I was good. But I didn’t realize I was this good.”

You giggle and smack his thigh lightly under the water. “You wish, Min Yoongi.”

His hands still and you turn your head, worried that you might have actually offended him. Your fears were put at ease when he took that opportunity to kiss you. It was slow and short. He smiled into your lips and whispered, “You love me.”

You smile back and return the kiss. “Yes I do. And I wouldn’t trade you for the world, my love.”

You kiss again and then lay back for a few moments. He taps your hip with the tip of his finger and says, “Love, we should get out. The water is getting cold and I’m getting hungry. I’m sure you are too.” As if on cue, your stomach rumbled. “I knew it.”

You both laugh as you stand first and then help him do the same. “How do you do that? You ALWAYS know.”

He shrugs and smiles. “It’s a gift.” He grabs a towel of the rack and wraps it around his waist in a flash.

“Where are you going in such a rush? And why do you have the only towel?”

He giggles and rushes out while yelling, “I’ve got a hot date!”

You laugh and shake your head. “Come back, Yoongi! It’s cold!”

Before you knew it, Yoongi returned with a towel and hands it to you. “Fresh from the dryer.” It’s almost hot. You smile as the towel touches your wet skin. “I was going to have this ready for you right when you got out, but I couldn’t resist you asking me to join you.”

Yoongi’s gummy smile returned and you smile back, your heart swelling again. “Thank you, babe. You’re so good to me.” You lean up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay. You dry off and I am gonna go prepare the rest.”

“There’s more?!”

He doesn’t answer, he just winks and disappears from the bathroom.

You found your pajamas laid out on the bed and smiled. You thought about how lucky you were to have such an amazing man in your life.

Once you were dressed, you made your way to the living room where Yoongi was placing a dvd in the player. He turned on the TV and then turned to you.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. What’s next?” As tired as you were, you found yourself ready for what he had planned.

“I’ve put in your favorite movie and ordered your favorite take out.” He smiled and crossed to you and placed a lingering kiss on your lips. “Get comfy on the couch while I grab a fuzzy blanket and some pillows.”

The entire movie was spent eating, cuddling and laughing. You didn’t notice that Yoongi spent most of the movie staring at you in wonder. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around how he got so damn lucky.

He would randomly place kisses on your head. That you noticed, but you didn’t say anything. You just returned the kisses to his hand or arm. Whatever was closest to your lips.

After the movie ended, you stretched out your body and yawned. Your belly was full and so was your heart.

“Go to bed. I’ll clean this up and follow you in a moment.” He kissed the top of your head for the hundredth time before getting up to take care of the empty containers and turn off the electronics. You didn’t move.

He came back to find you still on the couch. He gave you a look and before he could speak, you smiled. “I wanted to wait for you, so we could fall asleep together.”

Yoongi returned your smile and walked over to where you were lying. He bent down, picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the bedroom. After he layed you down on top of the sheets, he walked to the other side and got in next to you. He covered you both up with the comforter. Once he was settled, he gathered you in his arms and pulled you tight against his chest.

You felt Yoongi’s soft lips on your neck and heard his deep voice as he spoke softly into your skin. “Happy Birthday, angel. I love you across the universe.”

Before you drifted off, you thought about how you could not have asked for a more perfect night or a more perfect husband. Maybe he was the angel that was made for you.

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!

[nalu-week]

The Memory's Hargeon Holds (Day 1, Prompt 1- Nostalgia)

PROMPT 1- NOSTALGIA

Lucy’s POV

“Ahh I just love summer” I say stretching my arms up in the air while sitting at the bar with Mira

“Yeah it so nice” she smiles looking and me as I take a sip from her well-known strawberry milkshakes

“Yes I do agree with you Lucy it’s warm, everything is booming with life and Heart Kreuz always has adorable swimsuits available!” Erza says her eyes lighting up at the last part as she takes a bit out of her strawberry cake (which will probably get destroyed soon)

“Annnddd also a perfect time for love” Mira sings happily looking at me the starting at Natsu then back and forth a few times, I look at Natsu who is starting a fight with Gray (Naturally) and slightly blush

“Wait, what n-no” I go red in the face “O-Of course not I don’t like him were just friend that’s all” I say puffing out my cheeks looking away

“Oh come on Lucy it’s so obvious” Mira say fangirling

“Yes Lucy we all can see it” Erza points out

“Yeah Lu-chan it’s like we can all see it but you and Natsu”

“Ahh” I jump as Levy pop’s up beside me “How did you get here you were over the other side of the guild just a moment ago?!”

“Well a little birdy told me you were gossiping about your love life so I rushed over here because I knew I just had to join” she giggles, I look behind me to see Happy floating in the air with his paws on his mouth trying not to burst with laughter, he must have flown by without me noticing, I’m gonna kill that god damn cat

“So come on Lucy details when are you going to confess your feelings” Mira beams with excitement

“Huh, w-wait no I don’t e-even like him” I say shaking my head vigorously waving my hand in front of me

“Oh sure you don’t” Erza and Mira laugh

“But of course you do” Levy pipes in

“Umm… well maybe”

“HA I KNEW IT” Mira squeals drawing some of the guild attention

“Agh wait no your just putting words in my mouth!” I retaliate, I take one last slurp of my milkshake twirl around the bar stool and walk out of the guild, I can only imaging Mira, Erza and Levy just looking at me with smug smiles planted of their faces, as I walk away from the guild I can hear a faint yell

“WHICH ONE OF YOU ASSHOLES DESTRYED MY CAKE!” (Called it) Erza yells at who I can only imagine to be Natsu and Gray.

I sigh as I pull out Plue’s key to talk to so my walk home isn’t so boring

“Punn Punn” He yaps whilst shaking

“Aww your just so cute” I say picking him up and holding him in my arms as we walk home together.

Once I get home Plue disappears and I make/eat my dinner run myself a bath then get ready for bed as it is getting pretty late, as I lay in my bed the conversation I had with Mira and the girls today keep running through my head, I guess I do like him… I mean I guess I’ve never really admitted it to myself because he is my best friend and I’m just… scared he doesn’t feel the same or even know what a relationship is, I just don’t want to make thing weird between us. I don’t know how but Natsu Dragneel you have found some way to make me fall in love with you.

I smile softly and close my eyes but opening them a few second later

“Wait… something feels… off” I murmur to myself and a couple of seconds later

“Hey Luce!”

“And there it is” I mumble turning to my window to see Natsu on the window sill with Happy on his shoulder

“Lucy guess what”

“What is it Natsu I was about to go to sleep” my eyes follow him as he jumps into my room

“Well I have a job for us” he says giving his adorable smile, I mentally slap myself for thinking that

“Okay sure” I say not caring much

“Well the reward is enough to pay off your rent and more” Natsu states

“When do we leave!” I happily jump up snatching the flyer from Natsu my eyes sparkling   

“Well the job request says we don’t have to leave until a day or so”

“Alright”

“Oh and Erza was sent on an S-class mission with the request asking specifically for her and I’m NOT going on a mission with that stupid Ice Princess so it’s gonna be just us” Natsu explains, My heart speeds up knowing it’s going to just be us

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” I say point at Natsu who is now getting on my bed

“Umm… going to sleep”

“No you have your own house go sleep in your own bed!” he groans until I give him a death glare

“Ugh fine come on Happy” He says leaving through the window jumping off my roof and running away, I sigh and get in my bed under the covers

“I can’t let him sleep in my bed with me after I only just admitted my feelings for him to myself I just couldn’t take that” I say to myself using my hands cover my madly blushing face while kicking my legs.    

Soon enough the sun rays were blaring through the crack in my thick curtains shinning directly on my face, I scrunch up my face and roll over planting my face on my warm pillow where the back of my head used to be, I groan once more then groggily trudge out of bed surrounded but my puffy blanket, as my bare feet touch the cold wooden floor I walk to the bathroom and have a shower get read then leave to go to the guild because if I don’t Natsu will come to my house to wake me up and his idea of waking someone up are well… unethical. I walk into the guild to be greeted with a table flying towards my face which I manage to dodge thankfully, I sigh thankful and see Natsu and Gray fighting along with most the guild

“Hey, Lucy” I turn my head to see Natsu running towards me

“Hey you fire breathing Jackass you can’t just leave mid fight” I see Gray call to Natsu who was coming over to me

“Remember we got a job tomorrow” his says giving me a cheeky grin which makes me  blush  but unnoticeable to those around me  

“Natsu?!” Gray yells from across the guild standing alone looking stupid

“I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID BEFORE YOU ICE PRINCESS JERK!” Natsu yells charging full speed back into battle

“Wow there really going at it aren’t they” I nervously laugh sitting on the velvet seats by the bar

“Yeah since Erza isn’t here no one can really stop them” Mira smiles and I just nod, after about an hour or so at the guild I decide to leave and go home relax before the mission with Natsu tomorrow, once home I have my daily bath and walk over to my closet in my pink towel

“Huh, I haven’t look through all my clothes in a while” I dry myself and walk to my dresser and pull out a baggy short sleeve shirt and tracksuit pants and put them on and walk back to my closet which is filled with clothes, I started going threw them pick them up and folding or hanging them

“What’s that” I say to myself seeing one last outfit in the corner of the closet, I put it out to revile my old clothes, my white sleeveless shirt with a blue cross going across the shirt and blue outlining the shirt, matched with my blue thigh high skirt and brown combat boots “Now I haven’t seen this outfit in a while… actually I though the landlady took it” I shrug it off and pull out the outfit looking at in full remembering all the good time I spent in the guild and all the events that happened wearing this, I smile to myself and lay it out as I’m going to wear it tomorrow. Soon enough the day draws to a close and I go to bed and wake up when the sun shines in my eyes, I have a quick shower and put on my old outfit and tie a bit of hair to the side with a ribbon like I use to, finally I grab my whip and keys then leave for the Mongolian train station and wait for Natsu.

“Lucy!” I hear Natsu in the distance running to me with the job request flyer in his hands

“Hey Natsu, good timing the train just arrived” I smile at him see his face turn into horror

“A-A-Are you sure we have t-to take the train” He says almost like he’s going to throw up

“Aww come on its not that long we are only going to… umm where are we going exactly?” I ask Natsu when I realize I didn’t actually ask him where the job is located beforehand

“The request says ah… Hargeon” Natsu says

“See the trip is only to Hargeon, wait Hargeon… haven’t been there in a while” I giggle entering the train Natsu trudging behind me, after a couple hours me and Natsu arrive at Hargeon walking down the pretty streets

“Nostalgic isn’t it” I say as a breeze blows my hair around me

“Huh?” Natsu looks at me confused

“Well our first S-class mission (even though it was stolen) was by the docks and well I guess… you knew this is where we first met” I smile at him

“Yeah, and you brought us food there” Natsu points to the café/reastrunt where I brought him and Happy food when he saved me from the fake salamander

“… Hey Natsu do you remember Bora the fake salamander?”

“Yeah”

“And remember I told you, you saved me from a charm spell he had on me?”

“Aye” Happy and Natsu exclaim

“I read somewhere that only your true soulmate can break the curse spell” I blush looking at Happy and Natsu who are looking at each other then looking back at me

“Luce what’s a soulmate exactly?”

“Ahh well it’s… umm someone who you really really like”

“I really really like you Luce” he smiles I blush and giggle knowing that Natsu doesn’t understand what I mean

“And you want to spend the rest of your life with them”

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you”

“What?!” I snap my head back in their direction

“Well I want us to stay in the guild forever and continue to go on more adventures and I want you a Happy beside me, so never leave my side okay” He smile his cute smile at me with a tint of blush

“Yeah okay” I smile, I walk towards him and give him a quick peck on the lips then turn around quickly so he can’t see my mega blush

“Come on were have a job to finish” I turn ever so slightly to see a flabbergasted Natsu, I smile and begin walking to the client’s house

“Ahh y-yeah” I hear Natsu nervously say running beside me with still rosy red cheek and I can help but smile.

Soon enough this will probably be my new nostalgic memory for Hargeon. 

Thanks for reading my one shot for Nalu Week 2017 prompt 1 Nostalgia.