#anyway. I had a nice walk around the park while I waited. found a gravel hill with a hollow on the top and waited there to escape the wind

[neverendingford]

.

[sadachmesarthim]

towers for your honeycomb chapter 3: no i do not condone underage drinking i just think it's a good plot devic-

content: the boys have One Beer Each™, peter both sets and completely ignores his own boundaries, author remembers the communion chapter from "how to read literature like a professor" and bastardizes it, both of them have anxiety but neither say anything about it, smoking

words: 2k     song: outskirts of paradise - bad suns     

Looking Tony in the eye was like staring at the sun. Peter could barely hold his gaze, always finding an excuse to turn away.

He was sat in front of the other man a few weeks later, sharing drinks and pizza at a new brewery down the road. It’d cost him his liquor license, and potentially a clean record, if anyone found out, but Richie (their most beloved regular) offered to let the pair try the latest house brew if they ever swung through.

Peter wasn’t one for beer, but he’d accepted Tony’s invite anyway.

He wasn’t entirely sure why. Since their fight, they’d worked all of maybe three hours together. No other shifts, they avoided each other at meetings, and neither were particularly willing to reach out off the clock and apologize.

It was like the world was screaming at them to stay away from each other.

Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to listen.

After his shift that morning, Peter found Tony outside, leaning up against the hood of his car & working through his second cigarette. He drummed on the side of his thigh, keeping his empty hand busy as he waited for Peter to come out. Tony jumped at the sight of him, tossing the half finished cig down a storm drain.

“You know those lead straight to the ocean, right?” There was more amusement than anger behind his words. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what Tony was up to, but he was too tired to start shit. He crossed to the passenger side of his car, tossing his belongings to the floor.

“Even if it didn’t go through the city’s filtration system – fuck the fish.” Peter rolled his eyes. Funny as he was, Tony always had to be contradictory.

“Don’t you have, like, a school of them on your shoulder?” Tony’s normally visible salmon tattoos were safely tucked away behind a denim jacket Peter’d never seen before.

“Irrelevant.” Peter rounded the hood and turned, facing the other man. “Did you need something or were you just here to argue about my town’s plumbing system?” He huffed the words out, arms crossing in front of his chest expectantly.

“I, uh…” He suddenly went silent. The ground crunched under Tony’s feet, gravel scraping asphalt under his shoes. They were a rattier pair he owned – more tape than sole, oil staining the canvas.

“I wanted to know if you’d come to lunch with me. Today. Like, right now?” He hesitated at the last few words, like he wasn’t sure he could say them out loud. “I, uh. I’m pretty sure I have some things to say to you, and Richie’s got some good stuff waiting for us at the Pub House…”

Peter was astounded. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Tony?” My Tony? What? “I- why should I trust you? I’m sure as hell not getting in a car with you.”

Tony’s face fell. A bit of- what, disappointment? flew across his face. Peter would’ve missed it had he not been staring, impatient for his answer. Tony, floundering at the rejection, couldn’t give him one.

“Okay, maybe- how about this. I’ll think about it. Give me five minutes to go wash up and I’ll be back.” He turned & headed inside, not waiting for a response.

The cool water felt good against his burning, salt-stained cheeks. Peter hadn’t realized just how tired he was – opens had always taken it out of him, and the early spring temperatures didn’t always prevent the stand from turning into a heater during rush hour.

The soap in the stand was always too fragrant for his taste, but it did the job – it felt good to wash away the day’s work and come back looking like a new man. He smoothed his eyebrows down and dried himself off, wetting his hair a bit as he finished.

He wound up with grind in it again, brushing it out with a comb he found in the first aid kit. One of these days he was going to have to start wearing hats to work. Shampooing his hair every single day was taking its toll on his curls, and he wasn’t a fan of burnt coffee smell.

Stepping back, he squinted into the warped mirror in front of him. Much better.

Back outside, Tony’d lit up his third cigarette of the day. The shakes’d largely abandoned him, allowing his anxiety to drift inward. The sticks only did so much – he missed the higher, stronger hit of his Suorin, but he was trying to quit (ironically enough).

He was actually able to finish this one by the time Peter made his way back outside, looking significantly better without $5 worth of product on his face.

“Okay, some rules.” He came up, stopping just short of Tony. “You’re paying for both of us. We leave whenever I want, without complaint. We go straight there and come straight back - it’s eight blocks, I don’t want any bullshit scenic routes.” His tone was firm – something Tony’d never encountered with him before. 

“Yes. Yes, anything. Okay.” 

Tony’s car was a lot nicer than Peter anticipated. He’d recently sold his truck, swapping it for a silver Mini Cooper instead. It was a pretty little thing, just up his alley.

It was also fucking obnoxious. He’d bought it with a modified exhaust and had plans to make it even louder. You could almost always hear him coming, little pop pop pops audible for quite a ways. 

It was… less clean than Peter expected. Tony was always so well put together, so well-maintained - seeing stray gum wrappers and drink cups littered around the interior was almost jarring. He didn’t realize he was staring until Tony spoke up. 

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Peter nodded. He silently took in his new surroundings, nerves on fire. He’d never done well around strangers, in new places. His mind’d always screamed at him, danger unsafe bad run, overriding his sensibilities.

“Hey, are you good? I can take you back if you need.” They’d barely left the Outback parking lot. 

“No- no, I think I’ll be okay. Just… not where I thought I’d end up when I woke up today, y’know?” Peter tried to laugh it off, but he’d always been pretty transparent. 

Tony turned a corner, cutting back into the lot they just came from and turning the car off. “Seriously, Peter. If you don’t want to come to lunch with me just say so. I’ll take you back to your car and we can pretend it never happened.” Okay, seriously, who the fuck is this guy and what did he do with Tony?

“No, I- I think I’m okay. Seriously. Let’s just go and get it over with - I kinda want to hear you grovel anyway.” He settled further into his seat, failing to shake away the agitation. 

The flatbread was actually really good. It was more of a hipster take on pizza - white sauce and pearl onions definitely making it stand out - but it wasn’t a bad lunch by any means. 

The beer definitely wasn’t Peter’s favorite. He was barely sipping by, trying hard to keep a straight face as he swallowed. Damn Richie anyway. 

It’d started off awkward enough - discussing where to sit, small talk about their week, the weather. It felt more like a bad first date than an apology, but- 

“I really am sorry. For what happened in the fridge.” 

Oh. 

“Okay. Why?” Peter tightened the hand around his glass, bracing for Tony’s next words. 

“I.. I was kind of an asshole when I was younger, too. I figured I could make a fresh start here with a brand new town of people that didn’t know or assume anything about me.

“I was doing okay for a little while, too, but I don’t know man I just.. something happened and I just- I don’t know why I’m a dick to you. But I’m trying not to be. This is that, like, ‘first step’, I guess?” Peter nodded along, attentive. 

"So, I don't know. I'm sorry for being a dick to you at work. I'm sorry for being a dick to the girls. I shouldn't yell at you or drag your family into this bullshit - I'm sorry, Peter."

There it was again, that name. His first fucking name. 

“I- thank you, Tony. It’s a start, and I certainly haven’t forgiven you, but… thank you. Seriously.” Tony sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing. Peter let go of his glass and wiped it off, standing and walking around to Tony’s side of the table. 

“Okay then, time for a do-over! Hi, I’m Peter Parker. I’m 19 and I’ve worked at Outback North Espresso for a little over 9 months. What’s your name?” He stuck his hand out, waiting for Tony to make the next move.  

Tony laughed, pushing his chair back and standing to meet the other teen. “Okay, uh, I’m Tony Stark, I’m 18, and I’ve worked at Outback for almost 6. Nice to re-meet you, Peter.” He shook Peter’s hand, awestruck at just how soft it was. He quickly steeled his face and sat back down, releasing Peter and allowing him to do the same. 

Once he was sat back down at his side, Peter looked up, confused. “Wait, you’re still 18?” 

Tony laughed. “Not for long. My birthday’s at the end of next month.” 

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m older than you!” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s - it’s literally three months, that barely counts.” 

Their debate lasted well into the afternoon, alongside several other discussions. Peter’s childhood in Richland, and what it was like growing up there. What Federal Way was like, and why Tony left. Peter could tell he was remaining intentionally vague, but didn’t push it. 

Their beers were warm and the pizza was long gone by the time they abandoned their table. Tony guided him out the back, hand high on his arm. 

Once they were back in the car, Peter’s anxiety returned. It was like he’d spent the last few hours speaking to a completely different person, and now that he was sitting mere inches from Tony… 

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He wasn’t… sure, exactly. What it was. 

Tony spoke up when he noticed the tension in his passenger seat. 

“Hey, we’ll get you back to your car soon, I promise. Eight blocks, remember?” His right hand made its way to Peter’s knee, digging soft circles into the denim. Just like in the fridge.

“Please don’t- don’t touch me. Without asking.” It came out harsher than intended. 

“Okay, all good. No worries. We’re like, two minutes away.” Tony eased off the clutch, turning right out of the parking lot and onto the road. The windows rolled down and Peter let his head fall back in relief. Fresh air always helped him clear his head. 

It really was a short drive - right turn, left turn, right turn - and they were back at Peter’s car. The doors unlocked, and he was out in an instant. A bit too fast to be respectful, if he was being honest, but he knew he needed out. Tony stopped him before he was able to get in his car. 

“Hey, for real. Thank you for today. I’m sorry if it was too much.” 

Peter looked over and down to meet his eyes. “I- yeah, of course. No, yeah, thank you. For the apology. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. But no this- it was good. Yeah. Thank you, Tony.” 

He turned, unlocking the door and closing it before either could say anything else. After turning the key he sped off, without throwing even a glance behind him. 

Tony watched as Peter peeled away, reaching for the box of Pall Malls in his cupholder. He lit one, shifting into first and heading in the opposite direction. 

Not bad. Not good, but not bad. 

lmk if u want on or off the tags list!

@snowstark @kaleidoscopeluli @parkerrbitch @carelessannie​ @bluestarker​ @longlivestarker​ 

[bffsoobin]

Dulce Periculum

➤ Halloween!au, highschool!au, (vague)80s!au, punk!yeonjun x reader, general horror, ghosts, fluff, angst

↳ when yeonjun’s best friend dares the two of you to spend Halloween night camping in the abandoned old school your whole city thought was haunted; you think nothing of it. After all, there was no way the rumors of spirits that would follow you home were true, and you really wanted the prize from winning the bet.

Warnings: general horror themes, breaking and entering, underage drinking and smoking, mentions of drug use, ghosts, mentions of blood, hauntings, creepy shit in general so don’t read if you’re sensitive/not a fan.

Word Count: 4,994

A/N: I hope no one is surprised that I wrote an actually scary Halloween fic 💀 this was so much fun and totally captured all of the things I really love the most! It also felt so good to write another long fic for Yeonjun since I definitely don’t do that enough. As always, I didn’t proof read or edit this, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway! (also pretend this gif is dark hair Yeonjun for the vibes)

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“Seriously?” Yeonjun lifted a dark eyebrow as he popped a potato chip into his mouth. You held out your hand to silently ask for one that he set in your hand with no hesitation. Your usually populated lunch table was eerily empty today, and even inside the walls of your high school, the chill of the October air had you leaning into Yeonjun’s body to soak up his perpetual warmth. Across the table, Johnny sat on the top of a chair, exaggerating his already insane height as he spoke down to the two of you. 

“Seriously, man! The place is haunted. My cousin went there once a few years ago and-”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat at the sight of tough looking Johnny; donning his classic black leather jacket and silver belt chains, a half burnt cigarette glowing eerily orange at the end with a thin streak of smoke leading it’s way to the ceiling, visibly frightened over the idea of a haunted old school. 

“You’re losing it if you think the place is actually haunted. Johnny. It’s just a town legend for gods sake. People just go there and get high and fuck. It’s called Grave Academy. You think that shit is for real?” You spat, disbelief soaking every edge of your voice. You loved a good horror story just as much as the next fucked up teenager, but there was no fucking way that half burnt building was actually haunted. Beside you, your boyfriend had reduced himself into a fit of giggles, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you until you were almost sitting in his lap. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, the cool metal of his lip piercing making your nose crinkle. 

“I love when you act like that,” he whispered, gently biting at the lobe of your ear before laughing even more at the gagging noise Johnny had begun to project into the air. Yeonjun backed away just as suddenly as he had descended on you, taking his scent of mint and smoke with him.

“What’s your point, Johnny? Just tryin to scare us?” Yeonjun asked, balancing his chin on his palms as he stared lazily across the table again.

“The point is a dare,” Johnny began, leaning forward as if he were about to tell a secret only your ears could hear. “I dare you to spend Halloween night at Grave Academy. Then you’ll see how haunted that place actually is.” He took a long drag off of his cigarette, ignoring the pointed throat clearing of a cafeteria worker you knew for a fact smoked at least three a day while sitting in the parking lot. Johnny waved her off and reached into one of his jacket pockets, producing the worn leather wallet that he kept on him like a religious talisman. From its folds he produced a crisp, wonderfully green 50 dollar bill and held it between his fingers. Your eyes widened at the bill, and if it weren’t for Yeonjun’s hand on your thigh stalling you, you would have been launching yourself across the table to snatch it from Johnny. “I bet you,” his voice was muffled around the cigarette, “this 50 dollar bill and a six pack that the two of you couldn’t spend a whole night there without getting spooked.”

You and Yeonjun exchanged incredulous looks as Johnny continued to watch over the two of you. 

“Well, yeah,” Yeonjun announced, standing so abruptly that the chair he had once occupied was sent skidding awkwardly against the tiled floor. He extended a paled, jewelry decorated hand across the table and waited for Johnny to meet it in the middle. As soon as their hands connected, the smirk on Yeonjun’s face widened. “It’s a deal.”

-----

Halloween of ‘87 brought along frigid whipping winds that cut to the bone. You and Yeonjun had layered up in all your warmest clothing but he still had to crank up the heat in his old car as the two of you drove to the abandoned school to meet up with Johnny. With your hands tucked underneath your legs, you grumbled, “it’s way too cold for this shit, Jun.” Still focused on the road, Yeonjun hummed in acknowledgement.

“Got another idea for how to make 50 bucks and get a free case of beer?” He finally glanced over to you, eyebrow arched in question as you pouted. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll warm you up when we get there.” Despite the chill of the air, a warm blush sprouted on your cheeks that Yeonjun only smiled at as he made the final turn before crunching the gravel of the parking lot under the tires. Johnny was already there, leaning against the side of his car with a freshly lit cigarette balanced between gloved fingers. Seconds after Yeonjun parked the car, Johnny was next to it in two large strides, leaning down and knocking on the driver’s side window. Yeonjun pushed the door open, forcing Johnny to step back instead of getting nailed in the legs with the heavy metal. 

“Hello to you too,” Johnny grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child. “Nice of you to finally fucking show up.” Yeonjun laughed as he rounded the car to pop the trunk and haul out the copious amounts of blankets and pillows you had insisted on bringing. 

“What, Johnny? Afraid out here all by yourself?” Your boyfriend teased as you scooped a pile of blankets into your arms. Johnny exhaled through his nose, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Well fuck, Yeonjun. I don’t know, is it wrong of me to be afraid of the ghost of the little kid who literally got possessed and killed all of his classmates? Or the fact that all the kid’s spirits are stuck here? Plus, it’s Halloween so you know...the dead walk among us and shit.” He was shifting on his feet, taking intermittent drags from his cigarette as he spoke. You snickered to yourself, the weight of the blankets in your arms making your muscles a bit sore. 

“Can we just get this over with?” You ask loudly. 

“I would love to,” Johnny nods, patting Yeonjun on the shoulder and gently shoving him toward the old, slightly crumbling building. After the initial fire, the lot had been bought and rebuilt as a halfway house for troubled youth. The company ended up going bankrupt and the building was left to rot. 

“If you two make it out alive, my money and beer are yours.” Yeonjun nodded as a gust of wind ripped through the lot, sending a complaint flying from your mouth as you glared pointedly toward your boyfriend. He took the hint easily, maneuvering his blankets under one arm and placing the other at the small of your back. 

“See ya tomorrow, Johnny,” he waved him off easily, pushing you forward through the rusted, overgrown gate. You heard Johnny peel out of the parking lot just as you and Yeonjun stepped onto the first cement block of steps. An old sign hung at the top of the entrance, paint chipped off in large strips that have disintegrated with time. For a moment, you hesitated, your chunky black boots seemingly stuck to the surface under you. 

“C’mon,” Yeonjun encouraged, walking up the next four steps until he wrapped his free hand around the tarnished iron handle. “Aren’t you cold?” He asked, prompting your feet to move behind him. You wouldn’t admit it to Yeonjun, but a slight feeling of anxiety was beginning to make your palms sweat. Producing a flashlight out of his pocket, Yeonjun readied himself to step into the building. 

The door opened with a high groan, it’s hinges crackling underneath the weight of Yeonjun’s push. From your spot just outside the door, it was hard to understand the layout of what was once considered a grand building. Hiding slightly behind your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, all you could see was part of a staircase which surely had steps rotted away from years of disuse. A sudden fear for the integrity of the floorboards shot through you, and if you had had a free hand, you would have clutched it into the soft material of Yeonjun’s jacket. 

Forever fearless, he took the first step inside the building and hummed thoughtfully. 

“Well,” his dark mass of hair swished around as he looked side to side, “no ghosts that I can see.” You knew he was joking for the sake of your comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to rally back as you took a tentative step inside. From this point, you could see the interior of the entry hall in its full glory. 

Wallpaper, which you assumed was once a gentle cream color, was peeling in jagged, messy strips to expose the inner structure of the house. A more recent addition, the various colors of spray paint from other visitors, struck a stark contrast with  Above you, a dangerously loose looking chandelier hung. It was small enough, but still obviously made with a tough metal that had begun to fall down with the water-logged sagging and cracking of the plaster ceiling. The image of it falling down had your stomach churning. Maybe Johnny had been right. 

Slowly, the two of you made your way inside, surveying the floors through the measly yellow light of the flashlight until you found a good spot to place your blankets. Although it was “good” in the sense that there were no massive holes in the wall or ceiling to expose you to the cold, you still felt uneasy. As you set to work laying down a thick patch of blankets to protect you, Yeonjun took a lap around the room to see what he could find. This room, like all of the others, had streaks of spray paint on almost every surface. Most of it was harmless, and it almost gave you comfort to know that so many other people before you had come here and made it back out alive. Not that anyone would miss you or Yeonjun if you didn’t. Another shiver, this one not borne from the cold, ran down your back. Once you’d made a successful little nest, you found the will to walk over to Yeonjun again. 

He was slouched a bit, studying something with a surprising intensity. When you walked up behind him and slipped your hands under his jacket-mostly to warm your hands- he startled a bit. 

“Did I scare you?” You teased, pushing your face into his back as you nuzzled up closer. 

“No, just surprised. Can I steal the flashlight?” Pouting, you handed it over and resumed your snuggling in hopes that he would finally catch the hint. If you were going to be stuck in this creepy house all night you might as well have some fun. The vague thought of stealing a cigarette from Yeonjun’s back pocket crossed your mind, and your hand was well on it’s way until he muttered under his breath. 

“What?” 

“Just- look at this,” his voice was higher pitched, bordering a bit too close on surprised for your liking. Your mind buzzed as you slid to his side to lean into the point of interest. While you were making up the blankets, Yeonjun had been messing with what seemed to be an inconspicuous old blackboard, shut tightly due to years and years of misuse. Somehow, he had managed to slide it open, revealing a second layer of blackboard underneath. For a second, you were going to make a joke about skipping school and forgetting what a blackboard looked like- until you saw the writing. 

Inside the ring of light casted by the flashlight, a sentence made of slightly messy, too close together letters stood. 

“Don’t let him catch you.” 

Neither you or Yeonjun moved as you processed the words. 

“Jun,” your voice was wavering, choked over the tears building in the back of your eyes. “Maybe we should-”

“No, I’m sure it was just someone here before who messed with it. It wasn’t even that hard to push and there were obviously other kids here before us.” He turned on his heel quickly, putting your backs to the wall and taking your hands in his calloused palms. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold, but he still looked the image of perfection. 

“Still cold?” He asked, eyebrow cocked as he leaned imperceptibly closer to you. All thoughts of fear vanished, replaced quickly by the heat that swamped you upon seeing the gleam in his honeyed eyes. You couldn’t ignore the way the black metal of his lip ring glinted in the low lighting. 

“Y-yeah,” you confirmed quickly, tearing your eyes away from his lips just long enough to get the message across. Swiftly, he pressed his lips against your own, the cold brush of his nose skimming against yours making you giggle. He laughed back, using his hands tangled in your hair to keep you steady as he walked you backwards in a direction only he could see, deepening the kiss until you forgot that you were deep in the heart of Grave Academy. 

----

Morning came surprisingly fast after you and Yeonjun had worn yourselves out to your heart’s content. When you woke up, it was to the soft sound of the fall breeze rustling what was left of the leaves on a nearby maple tree. In the stark daylight, the building felt like much less of a scare than it did last night. As you laid on Yeonjun’s chest, blankets piled high over your body for insulation, you almost felt at peace. Even the once ominous looking spray paint on the wall now made you chuckle as you read the curse words and artist tags that overlapped in a rainbow of colors. The movement stirred Yeonjun awake, his eyes blinking slowly until he finally adjusted to the daylight. 

“Hey,” he croaked, voice thick and full with a surprisingly restful night of sleep. “Feel up to a beer later? Celebrate our survival?”

You smacked his chest playfully out of reflex, silently reveling in just how easy this bet with Johnny had turned out to be. Your pile of protective blankets slipped down your back, exposing you to a rush of cold that made you frown. 

“How about we get going? I’m starving.” 

Yeonjun took no more convincing than that, fully motivated by the idea of food. It took almost no time at all to fold up all the blankets and make sure you hadn’t left anything behind. 

“Oh, the flashlight!” You stomped your way back over to the blackboard where you’d left it, feeling much bolder in the sunlight. You pocketed the flashlight easily, tucking it away in the jacket that used to belong to your father. As you straightened back up, you came face to face with the same board that had almost sent you straight home last night, only to see that there was nothing written on it. 

The blackboard stared back at you, totally blank. The cramped, messy words from yesterday night had completely vanished. Not even a trace of wiped off chalk stayed behind to suggest that Yeonjun may have erased the words without you noticing. A sick feeling washed over you, nervousness balling in the pit of your stomach until you felt like you could pass out. 

“Y/N?” Yeonjun called, whining as the blankets weighed him down and his stomach growled. His voice snapped you out of your stupor as you quickly turned, striding toward him in confident steps to assume him- and yourself- that everything was just fine. 

----

“Yeonjun,” you hissed, leaning across your desk to better catch his attention. He turned lazily, half asleep as a result of the 20 year old projector video. “Did you steal my pencil?” You accused, slightly annoyed that he would have the nerve to take one of the very few school supplies you still bothered to bring, even if just for show. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. 

“No, why the hell would I take your pencil? I stopped taking notes in sophomore year. Are you sure you didn’t just drop it?” 

Violently, you shook your head. 

“I already looked, Jun! It’s gone! I literally just had it!” Anger bubbled in your chest as you abandoned all reserve. Yeonjun’s eyes went wide with concern as the teacher turned toward you and shushed loudly. 

You spent the rest of the day in an angered stupor, having to borrow a pencil from the nerdy kid who salivated over you every day in biology. It bothered you much more than it probably should have, but losing the pencil seemed to set off an odd emotion within you. You were many things, but you were never disorganized or forgetful. There was no way you simply lost the pencil. 

----

Senior year crawled by and your missed days of school stacked up quick. You and Yeonjun wasted the days away, sharing cigarettes and liquor bottles until the day was over. On one surprisingly nice winter afternoon, the two of you went for a walk. The route was innately familiar, as you’d been walking it since you were both young children. As you curbed the corner near Mrs. Berger’s house, Yeonjun stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Did you see that?” He asked, grasping at your forearm and making you slip a little on a patch of ice. 

“Did I see what?” 

“That- over there!” Yeonjun pointed toward a patch of bare trees laced with snow. There was nothing odd among them, but he was clearly convinced. “You don’t see that?” He hissed, an edge of fear in his voice that made you glance around for possible threat. 

“No, I don’t. Yeonjun, are you okay?” 

“Seriously, Y/N, now is not the time to fuck with me,” he pleaded, pulling on your arm harder. He was scared. 

“Yeonjun, let’s go, let’s just go back to your house, please, you’re scaring me-”

“SHIT, go go go!” Suddenly he yanked you into the snow covered yard to your right to avoid the slip of ice as the two of you sprinted, hand in hand, not stopping for a second until you reached his home. 

Chests heaving, you sunk to the floor with tears in your eyes. Yeonjun slumped into the couch, hand resting on his stomach as he tried to calm himself. 

“It was-” he gasped loudly, “a little boy. He was wearing like-like a fuckin’ school uniform? Just standing there like a- a little demon. And then he started to walk, and when I realized he was coming near us I just fucking panicked.”

If you weren’t already breathless, the words would have sucked the air right from your lungs. 

Don’t let him catch you.

----

You and Yeonjun had made a vow to never speak of that day again. Silently, you both had an inkling of what was going on, but neither of you wanted to admit it. Who would? 

Two days later, the two of you sat in the parking lot of a fast food joint, passing a cigarette back and forth. Neither of you had slept more than a few hours, and you were starting to feel it as the pull of another tension headache came to wreak havoc. Yeonjun said nothing as you closed your eyes for a few seconds, allowing yourself to succumb to a comforting darkness. The pain began to subside as you let yourself tire, the steady sound of Yeonjun’s breathing lulling you even further. 

Just as sleep began to invade the edges of your mind, a faint whisper sounded. You couldn’t quite make it out, so you just assumed maybe it was the way the wind whipped or your mind filling in some gaps. Just as you relaxed again, the whisper reignited, louder this time. You couldn’t make out the words, but the voice was childish and made your heart race. In a panic, you tried to open your eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. 

“Y/N, why won’t you play with me?” The voice asked. “You came to visit and then you just...left me.” Fear wracked your body the longer you fought against the voice. You knew that you hadn’t fallen asleep. This was not a dream. 

Suddenly, the face of a wide-eyed little boy crowded your vision. His eyes were piercing, upturned nose charming enough to distract you for half a second. But it didn’t take long to register the streaks of blood running from his hairline down to his chin, dripping off in thick drops. It was almost like you could feel them falling down, landing with a wet plop every time. A sick grin split his face, revealing a mouthful of blood just as dark and thick as the stuff running down his face. Your heart was hammering loudly, threatening to burst right out of your chest. Hot tears streamed down your face as you fought against whatever was ailing you. 

“Don’t you want to play?”

Suddenly, like coming up for air from underwater, you were back to reality. The sunlight burned your already sore eyes, washing out your vision so much that you almost didn’t see Yeonjun hovering over you as best as he could within the confines of the car. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped, gathering you into a tight hug as your body shook. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. 

“I-I wasn’t asleep,” you sobbed, grabbing at his arms desperately. “It was him,” you choked out, shuddering at the thought of that demonic little boy whispering to you. Yeonjun swallowed harshly, slumping back into his seat with a shake in his limbs. 

----

That night, you both skipped sleep. Yeonjun turned on all the lights in his bedroom and made sure that every single door to the outside was locked before you laid down together. On the small screened television a late night program played nonsense that provided welcome white noise. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t forget the image of the little boy dripping with blood. How he called you by your name and implored you to play. 

“I think it’s the same,” Yeonjun finally said. 

“The same?”

“Yeah, the same...the same kid. The one I saw outside, the one you saw. I think it’s the boy who-”

“Please don’t even say it,” you whined, burying your face into his shoulder. Deep down, you knew exactly what he meant. It was a million times scarier to hear it out loud. 

The sound of the talk show host suddenly quieted, television shut off suddenly with a crackle of light. 

“What the fuck,” Yeonjun groaned, getting up to check the outlet he had the unit plugged into. The plug was still secure in the outlet, giving no answer to the sudden end of your background noise. “Maybe the cable went out,” he suggested, dropping the subject as quickly as he began it. He wasn’t much for late night television anyway. On a normal night, he would have tried to make idle chit chat, or maybe even bite a few bruises into the column of your neck; but today he simply laid next to you and played with your hair. 

In what first seemed like a stroke of luck, the television set roared back to life. Both of you sat up in alarm, confused at the sudden change, but you had almost no time to ponder it as the rest of the lights in the room cut, plunging you into a sick darkness. Immediately you cried out, indescribable anxiety crawling up your throat and leaving you speechless. Yeonjun tensed, selflessly guarding your body with his as the television flickered static patterns at you. A high pitched whine emitted from the speakers, prompting you to search the sheets for the remote until the sound stalled. 

With all other sources of light drained, the television seemed to glow as bright as a full moon as scrolls of distorted text began to roll across the screen. They were a bit hard to make out, pixelated and cramped at first, but soon became clear as day in their full form:

YEonJuN, Y/n

WhY wON’t you PLAy WiTH ME? 

YOU CaMe tO visiT mE, BuT yOu DIDN’t StaY. 

I aM LOnEly. 

i KILled aLl OF mY FriENDS.  

Too stunned to react, you simply clutched onto Yeonjun’s shirt for dear life and squeezed your eyes shut in hopes this really all was some awful dream. 

“Holy shit, Y/N, Y/N!” Yeonjun yelled, forcing your eyes open just to witness the sight of the same horrificaly thick and deep red blood you’d seen earlier begin seeping from the top of Yeonjun’s bedroom walls. Everywhere you looked, streams of blood stained his walls red, ruining the collection of poster you’d memorized. The room smelled so strongly of iron that it made you gag, the threat of puking right at the back of your tongue. The television began whining again, high and shrieking until morphing into the sickly sweet voice of a young boy. 

“Don’t you want to play? I promise I’m nice.” 

Upon recieving nothing for a response from either of you, the voice let out a sigh. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to force you to play with me.” 

The television fizzled out again, plunging the room into temporary darkness as both you and Yeonjun shake with fear. As if nothing had even happened, the lights resumed their warm yellowy glow, exposing completely clean walls. 

----

“You two look like shit,” Johnny laughed, picking at the soggy tater tots on his plastic lunch tray. He had recently dyed his hair a deep black, and the dye was still staining the sides of his neck and his hands. “On a bender?” 

Yeonjun gave a noncommittal laugh, eyes downcast as you shrugged loosely. 

“Jesus, some bad cocaine? Did you buy from Taehyung? I told you he’s the worst to-”

“Stop, please,” you groaned, a tension headache permeating from the base of your neck to the top of your head. “You wouldn’t even believe us if we told you.” 

“Try me. I’ve gotten blow from all of Bangtan, they aren’t the most trustworthy all the time, especially that Namjoon guy. He charms you into thinking it’s good and then-”

“We did not buy blow from Bangtan!” Yeonjun exploded, drawing the attention of a few passersby. 

“Oh.” Johnny blinked, shocked by his best friend’s sudden loss of temper. “What’s wrong?”

“Grave Academy,” you mumbled, laying your head on the cold tabletop as Yeonjun rested a steady hand on your back. 

“Huh? You were there months ago.” 

“Yeah, that’s the issue. We were there months ago and we’re both still,” Yeonjun paused, unsure of what to even say. “We’re still getting haunted.” 

“You what?” The hurried scrape of his chair had you looking up again just as he crossed the distance until he was right next to Yeonjun. “My cousin...he- he had the same thing happen.” A sudden edge of sadness overtook his voice and your eyes widened. 

“Really? D’you think this happens to everyone?” Desperation spilled out alongside your words although you tried to stop it. 

“I think...I think that I’m definitely fucking with you.” Johnny laughed, standing back up to his full height as both you and Yeonjun deflated. “My cousin is literally insane. Always has been. So it was no surprise to us when he started ‘seeing ghosts’ and finally got himself carted away.” 

“Fuck you, Johnny.” Yeonjun snorted, pulling you up with him as he left the lunch room in a hurry and waltzed straight out of the school. 

----

“What do we do?” Yeonjun’s eyes were bloodshot, for once a side effect of nothing but lack of sleep. 

“We can run.” You suggested weakly, picking at a loose thread on your sweatshirt. “If we stay here we’ll either get send to the looney bin or murdered. And no one will miss us here, anyway.” Yeonjun knew you were right, but the thought plagued him still. Would running away even help? 

“I guess you have a point.” He surmised, glancing around the home that he had come to run basically on his own. Since the death of his mother, his dad had been reckless and absent, only sending enough money for basics in a manila envelope every few months. If he left, the house would be reclaimed by the town and no one would be any wiser to why the two of you left. Just your run of the mill high school dropouts. 

“I’d rather run away with you than die here.” You added, shrugging again as you imagined some kind of perfectly twisted life traveling the country with Yeonjun, living day to day. “Maybe you can finally start that band and I can be your groupie,” you joked, running your hands through his greasy locks and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll start packing a bag.” 

The next morning, you and Yeonjun said what little goodbyes you had to make. You visited Johnny, telling him an abbreviated lie about a cross-country trip that he bought well enough. If he suspected anything when Yeonjun hugged him for longer than he had in their entire friendship, he didn’t say much. 

The two of you made a stop at the cemetery, bidding farewell to your respective parents, before climbing back into his old Chevy. It was kind of hard to believe that all of your belongings fit snugly into his trunk, but it made escaping that much easier in the end. 

The town you’d grown up in disappeared in the rearview mirror, and as you held Yeonjun’s hand tightly between your own, you hoped that your misfortune would disappear too. 

You would never tell Yeonjun, but even as you drove miles and miles away from Grave Academy, you could still hear the little boy whispering every time you closed your eyes. 

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

I saw in your tags that there’s some old destiel fic you like on ffn. Do you have any recs ? :)

omg I haven’t been on there in years! like last time I read anything on there was like in 2014 lmao xD

32 fics total - I just checked and all of them are still up...there’s like 30+ more that I bookmarked that isn’t on the list cuz I’m not sure if they’re destiel fics or not so I gotta re-read them

all the ones below are fics that I’ve recced before in the past

1. All Angels Need Their Wings - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,784 (2012)

Dean never thought that Castiel would ever return. And when he did, he came in a very unexpected way, a very horrifying way. SLASH Castiel/Dean. Wing-Kink. Takes place in season 7. AU.

2. Heart Trouble - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 74,320 (2011)

Dean's having a harder and harder time of denying what he feels for a certain blue-eyed friend of his. And it's making him a little ornery, and a lot confused.

3. It Hurts - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,963 (2013)

Inspired by the S9 Trailer Cas had watched the angels fall and with them, his self worth. Now human facing the challenges of navigating mortality he also tries to find a place for himself in this new world. It is a hope he has to find without the Winchesters, without Dean. So now he runs, from both Heaven, Hell and from Dean. 

4. Small Problem - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 13,310 (2011)

A cursed artifact has made Castiel miniature, it's amusing for the Winchesters at first until they realize he might stay that way forever. Slash Dean/Castiel Please R&R

5 My Broken Angel - RATING: M | LENGTH: 24,999 (2010)

When Castiel disappears from his vessel, Dean is concerned. But when Castiel reappears and seems to avoid him, Dean is heartbroken. Set mid-season 5. 

6. A Hand - RATING: M | LENGTH: 23,474 (2010)

Dean/Cas, multichapter, slight AU. Dean's busy trying to re-soulify his brother, but Cas needs help. Maybe it's time Dean gave it to him. Ch. 15: Dean glared indignantly. "I find the term 'lovebirds' to be offensive. We prefer to be called 'sex-falcons.'" 

7. Saving Grace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 38,602 (2010)

With everything that was going wrong in Dean's life, it took him a while to realize that the person close to him that really needed the most help was Castiel. 

8. Candy - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 98,068 (2013)

The Fall from Heaven changed everything. The supernatural no longer hidden. Angels roaming the planet. Sam and Dean's immediate concerns were on a smaller scale. What do you do with the former King of Hell? Where is Castiel?... Destiel/Mute!Human!Cas/Angst!Dean

9. Dude, Dean Looks Like a Lady - RATING: M | LENGTH: 20,774 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

Sam's good, Cas has been found, and demons everywhere seem to be on hiatus. Seems like things are looking up for Team Free Will that is until Dean wakes up with his very own vagina anyway. Warnings: Fem!Dean, Destiel, female masturbation and S8 spoilers.

10. Evil Intent, Trials of Love, & Finding My Angel - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 36,729, 70,453, & 59,941 *rape, graphic torture, violence* (2009)

Anna rapes Castiel and uses a method that torments him more than anything imaginable. WARNING: Rape and Castiel/Dean makes sense when you read it . If you don't like then don't read!

11. Cascade - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 (2013)

"And if you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall in flames!" An 8x23 coda. 

12. Count The Cracks, Hear The Shatters, Feel The Insanities - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

They've walked miles on gravel roads that led to hell and back but the journey never quite ends. This is the story of Castiel and the Winchesters after the angels fell from heaven. Post Season 8. 

13. Damn Straight & Wait Wait Wait - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: about 21,000 (2010)

Humorous Cas/Dean, with multiple POVs. Slight AU. Fluffy. Ch. 5: Sam sat in the Impala in the motel parking lot, praying that three and a half hours at the library had been long enough.

14. Entertaining Angels - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 43,659 *gen/pre-slash* (2008)

A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell. Spoilers through 4.10. Not an OC. 

15. Happy Friggin’ Valentine’s Day - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 22,771 (2010)

SLASH. It all started with Dean's perfectly healthy hatred of frivilous holidays and a much-coveted sack of dust. Poor Castiel doesn't fully understand 'romance' to begin with, and this crash course is most unwelcome. 

16. I’m Just a Love Machine - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 29,200 (2011)

The Impala finally gets the chance to love Dean back. The problem is, Castiel seems to be in its way. 

17. It’s The Great Destiel Shipper, Sam Winchester - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 49,641 (2012)

What's Sam really doing all that time on the computer? Fangirling. Over Chuck's Supernatural books. Now Wincest might be a bit too much to deal with, but Destiel he might be able to get on board with... Especially after being around the two people involved for three days straight. 

18. Pain in the Head - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 78,771 *character death* (2011)

It started out slow. "Since when do angels have headaches?" "Since they become human." Established Dean/Cas. Sort of AU. PG-13. Complete. 

19. Sleep in Heavenly Peace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 45,517 *christmas fic* (2013)

Dean wants to have a nice, peaceful Christmas for once, but it seems like the universe won't let him. Dean/Castiel. Post-8.08 (Hunteri Heroici) AU. First in "Holidays With the Winchesters are Always Fun." 

20. The Shattered One - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 94,021 *grace mpreg* (2012)

When it struck Castiel, it dropped him out of the sky. He set down the first place he could find. He stood in a field in Switzerland, swaying on his feet and staring down at his body, dazed by what it had just done.

21. This Cupid Isn’t Stupid - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 41,572 (2012)

Dean receives a shock when he wakes up to discover Castiel has returned. Why is the angel suddenly back? Why have his powers dimmed? And.. Why are he and Dean joined together by an invisible rope!

22. Wild Horses, Cas - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 23,505 (2013)

(S8 Spoilers (story is set in S9), Sickfic! Destiel, Minor Sabriel). When Cas comes down with a bad case of Pneumonia it leaves Dean feeling more protective over his friend than ever, but will it also lead to Dean's admittance of his feelings towards his friend? 

23. Wrong - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 51,384 (2010)

Angels are not supposed to drop out of the sky into motel rooms, broken and beaten. They're not supposed to bleed like that. It was all wrong. 

24. The Reluctant Contestant - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 50,502 (2012)

AU When Gabriel is hired as a new host for a dating show, Cas has no choice but to follow his brother along as part of the camera crew. Forced at the last minute to be a contestant, he is shocked when Dean Winchester continually refuses to eliminate him. 

25. The Ugly Duckling - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 81,676 (2012)

Castiel: a nerdy, skinny thing with a crush on the the most popular guy in class. Being unpopular isn't easy and it's worse when the homophobic school figures him out. A small struggle to be noticed by his crush is turned into a huge struggle for himself and his dignity. But bullying can get the better of anyone. Slash. Destiel rated M for later chapters. 

26. Nameless - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 77,882 (2013)

AU. Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist at birth. Well, everyone except Dean Winchester. Complete. 

27. Cufflinks - RATING: M | LENGTH: 61,845 (2012)

The world is full of creatures that prey on humans. It is up to 'Hunters' to fight against the dark. Lucky Hunters rely on the help of angels they have bound to their service. Sam and Dean may be good Hunters, but they have yet to capture an angel. One day, Sam finds an angel and seizes the opportunity to bind the angel to himself. Little did they know what they were getting into. 

28. Angel Training - RATING: M | LENGTH: 95,700, Angel Training 2: Save Us - RATING: M | LENGTH: 76,888, & Angel Training 3: Uprising - RATING: M | LENGTH: 89,512 (2011)

In a world where angels are common and the most privileged or skilled people are able to own one; the world's angelic hierarchy is about to change when Dean Winchester receives a wild and recently caught angel.

29. Chasing Your Shadow - RATING: M | LENGTH: 92,077 (2012)

The prophecy says that when Castiel turns twenty-three winters old, a stranger will come into his life and bring a lot of suffering. But do prophecies always come true? Demon Dean/human Castiel AU 

30. The Holiday - RATING: M | LENGTH: 32,088 (2011)

Castiel and Sam are unlucky in both life and love, so they swap houses for the holidays. Both find the experience highly...interesting. Dean/Castiel Sam/Gabriel

31. And In Your Arms I Shall Find Shelter- RATING: M | LENGTH: 33,824 (2012)

Dean Winchester is a long forgotten painter who suddenly receives an order for a painting from a rich man - Crowley. He is about to start painting when Castiel - his personal reaper visits him. The main question is: Will Castiel give Dean enough time to finish the painting? 

32. Jar of Hearts - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 127,192 (2013)

February being the supposed 'month of love' people seem to forget that it's also one of the coldest times of the year. Valentine's Day themed events in a cafe turned bar is how Dean managed the courage to speak to the locally famous singer and somehow score a date, a relationship, and a man he didn't deserve out of the deal. Destiel college/uniAU some Sabriel 

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Nightscape

Sebastian x Reader | ☁️ | 1.8k

A chime from your phone jolted your attention off your screen. 

It was that time of the day already. Even though you heard this notification every single day, you were always startled by it. 

The sound of your freedom. 

Turning back to your desktop screen, you skimmed over the information once more. Hopefully it was error free - you managed to keep up your zero-tolerance policy for mistakes to get this far, no messing up now. Hitting save, your mouse flew across the screen to shut down your computer.

Grabbing your favourite travel mug and shoving it into your bag, you stood up, feeling the stretch in, well, everything. Your eyes drifted over the walls of your cubical, spying the dull grey walls of the office you worked in. Nothing but the sounds of typing and quiet murmurs filled the efficiency focused workspace. 

Just another typical day for you.

You wondered if the sun had already set - the lack of windows made the place feel like a prison. If the building was a prison, you were their captive. Locked up in the daily grind lifestyle.

At least the pay was decent.

Tossing on your jacket and picking up your bag, you checked over your phone notifications as your feet moved on autopilot towards the exit.

“Done for the day, (Y/N)?”

Your co-worker’s voice made you pause right before the door. 

“Yup,” you responded with a plastered on smile. What was their name again? “Are you?”

“Got to work overtime today.”

“Ahh, good luck. Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

You immediately picked up your pace and your fake smile disappeared. One awkward encounter was more than enough. Your exhausted brain still had no idea what their name was. It probably started with a... G? Maybe? 

As sad as it was, they didn’t really matter. Not to you anyways.

Popping into the elevator, you pressed the ground floor. Whatever energy that had been sapped out of you all day was being restored with every step you took leaving the building.

You could see the glow of the streetlights outside. Looks like the sun had set for a while now. It wouldn’t be long before the stars would come out.

Spying the company logo as you walked out, you let out a big sigh. 

Joja Corporation.

Being able to find a job that gave you a living salary as a young adult should have made you happy. You lived on your own and had a growing savings account. Not much else going on though. 

Ever since starting your life at Joja, your life had become monotonous.

Wake up. Work. Sleep. Repeat. 

Super exciting.

Work life balance? More like work was your life.

Just as you sat down in your car, your phone pinged. Pulling your phone out, you saw a cheerful notification from your mom.

‘Look what I found cleaning! You looked so happy whenever you went to visit your grandpa. Hope things are going well with work!’

Attached was a picture of you and your late grandpa on his farm - he passed away a few years ago. You admired him when you were young, he was a man who stuck to his beliefs and had the kindest heart. Time with him in Stardew Valley always felt like it moved more slowly than the city life you knew but flew by regardless.

“I wonder if things have changed,” you murmured. “It’s been years...”

Starting up your car, you started to drive home. Nights like tonight were busy, Fridays brought out the nightlife more than any other night. The lane you were in crawled forward at a turtle’s pace even at a green light.

Letting out a puff of air, you decided to do something different. Signaling and switching to right lane, you drove without braking for a while. Gliding on the quiet roads heading out of the city, the serene darkness welcomed you with open arms. Letting the city disappear behind you along with all the uncertainties. 

You finally started to slow down when you approached the familiar outlook point that let you see the city from afar.

Even from where you were, you could see the Joja Corporation company you worked at.

What did it take to make the company disappear?

Parking, you turned off your engine and stepped out of your car. Nature’s silence greeted your ears as the crickets’ quiet chirped and the breezes tickled the grass. Sitting on the hood of your car, you leaned back to rest on your elbows as you stared at the night sky with the moon and stars watching from above.

“Something needs to change,” you declared to yourself.

Saying the words out loud made it feel more real. Confirmed. 

You were young and could have a bright future ahead of you. Why were you letting Joja take your excitement for living away?

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but the sound of a motorcycle approaching caught your attention. Keeping your eyes on the sky, you listened as the motorcycle stopped nearby. As their engine cut off, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel filled the air instead. 

Everything fell back silent for a few minutes. Both knowing that each other were there but not saying anything to each other. 

After a while, the footsteps started to approach you. The person had moved so that they were right next to you, leaning against your car as well.

“So you’re here tonight too,” he said, greeting you. “Didn’t think I’d see you.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at him. “Nice to see you too, Seb.”

The corner of his lip moved upward, as a smile grew on his face. The moon captured his gentle features, not letting the darkness hide any of his surreal charm.

Meeting Sebastian was like a lucky opportunity with fate - the two of you had been complete strangers who happened to be overlooking the city nightscape when your car decided to play matchmaking by revealing a flat tire. Ever since then, Sebastian and you would meet completely by coincidence when the feeling of needing to get away from life happened.

Sitting up, you moved you head so it was resting on Sebastian’s shoulder as you let out a sigh.

“Rough day?” he asked softly. 

“Kind of. I... don’t know how to keep living life this way,” you explained. 

“You don’t mean anything... extreme, do you?”

“No, no, no... Nothing like that.”

“Ah... Good,” Sebastian responded, sounding reassured by your response as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You could feel his warmth seeping into you. Could he hear how loud your heart was around him? Hopefully not. “Office life in Zuzu City not as great as you hoped?”

You nodded. He knew you pretty well for someone you barely saw and communicated with. 

“Do you think I should quit?” you asked.

“That’s completely up to you. Don’t let yourself suffer too much.”

You laughed. What a Sebastian thing to say. The way he expressed that he cared wasn’t always through the traditional means and phrases.

“What about you then, Seb? Did you come here as a result of suffering too?”

Sebastian responded with a half shrug. “I usually hang out with my friends on a Friday night at the local pub, but something came up this week. Thought I’d take the chance to get away. I guess I am suffering from seeing you though.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed indignantly as you sat up straight.

Seb laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I’m suffering from seeing you looking so troubled.”

You offered him a smile. “How sweet of you.”

“I mean what I say, (Y/N).”

“I know.”

Staring at the distant lights, you thought about the photo your mom sent you. Stardew Valley. Your grandpa had left you his farm. A few years back when you first started working at Joja Corporation, you had opened the letter your grandpa addressed to you. Back then, you thought giving the office job a try would be an okay alternative. The farm now felt like a good alternative. 

This was a big decision though. You didn’t want to make a decision on the spot.

“Sebastian?”

The boy hummed in response.

“Have you ever been somewhere with someone and everything just feels... right?”

Sebastian stiffened as he turned to look at you. “Yeah... I have.” 

Your (E/C) eyes looked at him curiously. Then your brain finally finished processing what you just said out loud - that sounded like a confession. Your cheeks immediately heated up.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it that way - although, I do actually really like you, Seb.”

Your flustered response brought a rosy hue to the dark haired male’s face as well. Honestly, he thought you were absolutely adorable. Even in your most uncertain moments, he appreciated how honest you were. Interweaving your fingers together, he gently bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

Heart racing from the unexpected confession you expressed, you tried to reorganize your thoughts within your scrambled brain. Unable to look at Sebastian, you turned your gaze up to the night sky and gave his hand a little squeeze.

“I used to visit my grandpa a lot over summer break when I was young,” you began. “He passed away years ago, but I inherited his old farm. I’m just thinking, I move away from Zuzu City to live in the countryside. Have you ever heard of Pelican Town in Stardew Valley?”

Sebastian seemed to have frozen up when you mentioned Stardew Valley. 

“Yeah... I’m actually from Stardew.”

Wait - what?

You quickly turned to look at him. “Really?!”

He nodded. “Guess I never mentioned that to you. But if you think you really need a change of scenery from Zuzu City, Pelican Town is feels like a different world entirely.”

You thought back to the idyllic days you had spent with your grandpa in the past. Seb was right, it was so different from the world you were living in Zuzu City.

“I’m sure not everything is different,” you said, thinking out loud. A bright smile appeared on your face. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

Getting to see how beautiful you were when you were truly happy made Sebastian want to see that stunning smile of your more often. He never would have thought this unexpected friendship to blossom into something more, but he truly cherished what he had with you. 

“I’ll be there,” he affirmed. He held up your joined hands. “I’d like to be here for you whenever you need it as well.”

 “I’d appreciate that,” you softly responded. 

Sitting with Sebastian with the night sky above you and the distance city lights twinkling in the distance, you finally felt a sense of hope for the future. Perhaps the change you were waiting for had been here all along. 

[serendipityunho]

Fire & Flames

× genre: smut, fluff, college au × pairing: badboy!Hongjoong x Reader (fem.) × word count: 5.9k × warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, fingering, handjob, oral, clit play, slight choking, pull-out method, hand kink, praising, explicit sex

× synopsis:You never expected to fall into the arms of the notorious bad boy of the campus, Hongjoong, after getting locked out. But yet again, he never expected for you to end up in his arms either. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘Come to the party’, they said. 

‘It’ll be fun’, they said.

If only you knew you’d be walking home barefoot, holding your heels in your hands in this cold midnight. To begin with, the party wasn’t even that fun. People got high, people got fucked, people got knocked out. When was there anything new?

It was like any other college party, but with more beer kegs this time and Wooyoung didn’t get too wasted, which was an achievement. You never knew how people didn’t get so bored after the first hour of being surrounded by sweaty drunk bodies and actually not worry about being in the danger zone of being vomited on. 

Your best friend had already fucked off with some guy at the party, leaving you with the set of apartment keys since you had dropped them down the drain a few days ago. She was already too wasted to give you a lift home before tending to her businesses with whoever she caught, now you’re shivering down the street with your feet so numb you could barely feel the pain of the gravel stabbing at the bottom of your feet.

The apartment building wasn’t too far from sight, it was only a minute walk before you found yourself standing at the entrance with the flashlight on your phone on as you fumbled with the keys. Wait.

“Fuck!” You wish you were seeing things, anything other than the fact that you were holding the wrong set of keys. None of these belonged to you. 

Your best friend had given you the wrong keys, and you were too homesick to even bother checking them before leaving the party. Great. Now you were locked outside with a nearly dead phone and frozen feet. 

“Come on, come on, pick up” It felt like forever before the robotic voice answered, sending you straight to voicemail as you sighed in defeat. 

5%

You wouldn’t have found yourself in this predicament if only you had listened to yourself and stayed home instead of allowing yourself to be dragged to that god awful party. You couldn’t even think properly with your constant shivering as you sink to the floor, ass getting cold from the pavement. 

There was always Jongho who didn’t live too far. No, he’s probably at a boxing match tonight. Or Yeosang. Eh, probably in a chicken coma with his girlfriend. 

Another sigh left your lips, hot breath evaporating into the cold air as you hugged yourself not that it would make a difference to your warmth. You didn’t want to go back to that party, not when people were finally starting to throw up on each other and couples occupying the bedrooms. 

Everything but the 7/11 beside the abandoned warehouse, and the bar was open, all other warm and cozy places were closed dark. The 7/11 looked empty, and that was the problem. You didn’t want the cashier’s eyes on you the entire night suspecting you of stealing shit. The bar it is.

You lift yourself off the cold steps of your apartment building before patting whatever residue was on your dress. A grimacing look took over as you looked down at your heels. You really didn’t want to wear it again unless you wished for your feet to stop working the next day. At least look decent before entering.

With every step, your feet felt like they were on complete fire. You were bound to collapse at any given moment. 

Just. A. Few. More. Steps.

The neon sign beamed brightly, almost making your eyes ache at the sight as you pushed through the entrance. A subtle buzz surrounded you almost instantly as your eyes land on the pool table then onto the bar with only a few drinking.

It was definitely much warmer than you expected it to be. But it was more than enough. 

“First time at a bar?” Your eyes stopped looking around and shot to the bartender in front of you, wiping the surface with a cloth before swinging it over his shoulder.

“It’s that obvious huh?” You place your clutch onto the counter before taking a seat on the stool, sighing in relief as your sore feet take another break from walking in heels.

“Very. Would you like a drink?” 

“Um, a martini would be nice, thanks” Money shouldn’t be used recreationally right now. But, a drink was needed in order to keep your cool.

“So what’s a girl like you doing here so late?” The bartender didn’t look up as he started mixing your drink, ice shackling inside the shaker.

“I got locked out because my roommate gave me the wrong keys and now she won’t pick up” 

“Have you tried calling her again?”

“No, my phone is about to die” The glass filled with the beverage pouring out from its shaker as the bartender pushed the drink towards you.

“There’s a payphone over there if you have any change left” 

“Yeah, if I had change left, thanks though” 

Another customer appeared in the corner of your eye, sitting down just one seat away from you. You could sense a burning gaze in the side of your head as you kept looking down, stirring your drink with the little toothpick you got with the olive.

“What made you come here?” From the very first word spoken, you immediately knew who it was. 

“That’s none of your concern, Hongjoong” You were met with a well-known smirk the moment you turned your body to the blonde-haired man.

You weren’t surprised to find Hongjoong at a place like this. It fits in well with his rough agenda anyways. That is, being the boy most parents warned their daughters about and the boy many others either despised out of jealousy from stealing the attention of girls they tried too hard to get.

“It’s quite concerning to see you at a bar so late. Did something happen that finally drove you out of the house?” Hongjoong chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he smirked.

“The only thing that drove me out of the house was a promise that my roommate would do all the housework for a week if I went to this party with her” 

“But?”

“But this idiot gave me the wrong keys when I left and now I’m locked out with a dead phone while she’s off fucking some random guy” You scoffed, downing the rest of your drink before fidgeting with your fingers.

“Do you want to use my phone?” Hongjoong reaches for his back pocket, slinging out his black phone before unlocking it.

“No point, she hasn’t picked up any of the other fifty calls I left her” A flash of empathy washed over Hongjoong’s face as he remained silent, nodding his head subtly as you turned back around.

Maybe if you didn’t spend the most of your money on this martini, you’d be able to snag a cheap motel room for the night. Or perhaps some slippers instead of torturing yourself in these heels.

“You could... stay at my place if you’d like? Just until your friend comes back of course” Those were the words you never expected to leave Hongjoong’s mouth. 

“I don’t want to trouble you” 

“Well, where else are you going to go?” Nowhere. 

You were quite surprised that Hongjoong, out of everyone, had offered you a place to stay for the night. Many would think he’d just snicker and walk away from the looks of him. But on this night, he doesn’t look that uptight as usual.

“You’re right. I guess it’s better than nowhere” You sighed before reaching for your clutch, pulling out a few crumpled pieces of cash to leave at the bar.

“C’mon, you look tired as fuck” That was nice to know. 

You followed Hongjoong out the bar, standing in front of what seems to be his motorcycle. It was sleek and black, you saw him ride it to campus every day, zooming out the parking lot in a flash as people admired behind their books.

“Thanks” You take the helmet from Hongjoong’s hand before slipping it over your head, adjusting it before swinging a leg over the motorcycle.

“Hold on tightly” Hongjoong revved the engine as you snaked your arms around his waist.

“You trust yourself without a helmet?” 

“Do you trust me?” Hongjoong turned his head slightly, letting you catch a glimpse of his eyes. 

“Well, I’m going home with you aren’t I?” You wrap your arms tighter around his waist, lifting your feet off the ground as he does the same.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest at any moment as the wheels on Hongjoong’s motorcycle started moving. You were immediately hit with the cold air once again, goosebumps rising along your arm as you clutched tighter onto Hongjoong.

The neons lights of shops along the street passed by in a blur as Hongjoong sped down the street. It didn’t feel as cold as before, maybe because you were literally hugging someone.

Hongjoong slows down at a set of traffic lights, making your grip on his abdomen loosen as your heart calms down from the adrenaline. Hongjoong’s icy blonde hair glistened under the light, it looked miraculously soft and silky. You lowkey just wanted to run your hands through them.

“Scared?” Hongjoong kept his eyes on the road as he spoke up.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re hugging me like a koala”

“Okay, maybe a little bit” To be completely honest, you were scared for him too. Riding this death machine without a helmet is ballsy. 

“You can trust me” Now that was another thing you’ve never expected to hear from him.

You were already so used to the cold, your skin felt numb as you grew used to the cold despite Hongjoong lending you his leather jacket halfway through the route. You felt kind of bad seeing goosebumps on Hongjoong’s arms as he endured the cold. 

“You don’t mind loose clothing, do you?” Hongjoong unlocked the door to his apartment, dropping the keys onto the kitchen counter before letting you in.

“Uh, no, anything would do. Thanks” You stepped into the apartment, it was neat and clean with a few pizza boxes on the counter. 

“Are you hungry?” Hongjoong’s face lit up as he pulled onto the fridge door, scouring at what he could find. 

“No, I’ve lost my appetite for the night already” With your sense of smell ruined by the thick aroma of alcohol and whatever at the party, you couldn’t bare to eat without wanting to throw up. 

“Here, you can take this room. And, uh, here,” Hongjoong lead you to a room with a bed freshly made as if no one had slept in it before, handing you what seems to be one of his shirts and some pants. It wasn’t like they were too oversized so you didn’t need to worry. “, the bathroom is right there by the way”. 

“Goodnight, Hongjoong” You flashed a small smile as Hongjoong scratched the back of his head, avoiding much eye contact before inching backwards out the door.

“Y-Yeah, goodnight” You stifled a chuckle before turning back around as the door closed behind Hongjoong. 

The room wasn’t too big or too small. It was just perfect. It was masculine enough not to mistake it for a woman’s room. Maybe this was someone else’s room. It wasn’t a new discussion around campus that Hongjoong had a roommate. But where was he?

It was a relief to finally strip off the party clothes, well, dress. The soft material of Hongjoong’s shirt made you feel at home, a subtle masculine scent lingered on it as you held the collar to your nose, sniffing it before stretching your arms out. A man who smelt nice was always attractive.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a pleasant sleep before you woke up in a cold layer of sweat, gasping for air as you shot up from the bed. You weren’t so sure if you were still dreaming or not, maybe both. 

The only thing you could hear over the ringing in your ear was the sound of your heart pumping loudly out of your chest as you focus on your surroundings. Almost everything was completely black other than the window with the moonlight shining through. 

It wasn’t uncommon for such sleepless nights like this, you’ve had them since you were a child after some rather unfortunate events. Some you could never seem to forget. Since then, you’ve learnt to cope with it. 

It wasn’t much of a big deal as you grew older, nothing an ice-cold glass of water couldn’t fix. That and probably a few episodes of TV that you’d forget in the morning.

You felt gross just sitting in the bed, quite sorry for whoever actually sleeps on here. The red numbers from across the room beamed 3:29am as your feet touched the ground before stepping towards the door.

Hongjoong was probably already dead asleep at this time of night. You’ve never met anyone who sleeps with their door open before. Making your way down the corridor, the wooden floor creaks subtly beneath you as your eyes lingered around the dark space. 

What you didn’t expect to see in the kitchen was Hongjoong himself, making you halt in your spot as he looks up from the counter. Arms rested against the counter with a glass of water in his hands.

“Why are you awake?” Hongjoong’s voice was raspy, probably just woke up not too long ago before you.

“I had a nightmare” You hesitantly make your way into the kitchen, fidgeting with your fingers as Hongjoong hops off the stool.

“Do you usually have nightmares that wake you up?” 

“Only when I don’t have my pillow, childish right?” It was another thing that helped you cope with nightmares. The long pillow that your parents had given you before they moved away helped majorly. You couldn’t have a proper goodnight’s sleep without it.

“Not at all. Actually, I can’t sleep without my pillow either” Who would’ve thought this baddie was actually a softie?

“So, how come you’re awake?” Your eyes flickered from cabinet to cabinet, questioning in your head which one the glasses were in.

“I was thinking” You were about to take your chances, opening up a cabinet only for a glass filled with water enters your view. You gladly take the glass from Hongjoong’s hand as you turned back around, facing him entirely as he maintained a distance.

“You must be thinking about something deep to stay up this late” Your dry throat felt relief after the first sip of water, finally, your body felt like it wasn’t on fire anymore.

“Would you say BuzzFeed quizzes are deep?” Hongjoong chuckled, leaning back onto the counter with his arms crossed. 

“What kind of person stays up at three in the morning thinking about BuzzFeed quizzes?” 

“Me, surprisingly, San too” 

“San, the rich kid, San?” 

“That’s the one” 

By now your glass was half empty, rubbing your thumbs across the glass as you take a seat next to Hongjoong. Your eyes glued onto the scenery outside of the window, moon hiding behind the trees of the small forest next to Hongjoong’s apartment building. 

“How are you not tired?” Even you were tired and you were barely awake for more than five minutes.

“I’m used to getting calls from my drunk friends at this time telling me to pick them up. It’s kind of like a subconscious alarm clock now” Hongjoong slips around the counter, inching back towards the corridor.

“How fun” 

“It’s going to be hard for you to fall asleep, isn’t it?” Hongjoong flashed you a concerning look before leaning forward with his hands pressed against the edge of the counter.

“I normally end up pulling all-nighters when this shit happens” Your finger swipes along the edge of the glass as you make yourself comfortable in your seat, accepting your fate for the night.

“I know I’m no special pillow, but perhaps, I could help?” Hongjoong scratched the back of his head, cocking a brow before pushing himself off the counter.

“What, you want to hold me to sleep? Is that what you’re saying?” It was sweet, really. Just a surprising thoughtful gesture you never expected.

“No- maybe- yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying”

You found it quite charming that Hongjoong had offered you such redemption from tired eyes in the morning. With no further words, you hopped off your stool and brushed passed Hongjoong with him following closely behind. 

The bed didn’t feel icky anymore the moment you touched it again, lying on your side as you wait for Hongjoong. You didn’t see him come in but you knew once the side of the bed dipped and a warmth covered your back. 

“Wake me up if I start snoring”

“You snore?”

“I don’t know, that’s why you need to tell me”

A soft chuckle issues from behind, feeling the wave of Hongjoong’s breath against the back of your neck. You could tell he was hesitant of actually holding you with his hand lingering over your waist. Softly grabbing his hand, you snake his arm around you, holding his hand in yours as you let him get comfortable.

“Can you sleep like this?” With Hongjoong hugging you like this, it wouldn’t take more than a blink of an eye to fall right back asleep.

“Can you?” He did say he needed his own pillow to be able to sleep too. 

“Only if you don’t move too much” You could feel your eyes shutting close as Hongjoong started playing with your hair, growing more comfortable in your presence. 

You never knew how much you enjoyed the feeling of someone playing with your hair until now. The way Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as his fingertips gently massaged your scalp calmed you, it was like a silent lullaby putting you to sleep.

“This is so much better than a pillow” You murmured, flipping onto your other side to face Hongjoong. His eyes were droopy, close to shutting as he rests his hand at the back of your head. 

“I’m glad” 

“You don’t sound so tired” 

“Because I’m not” Hongjoong chuckles, drawing little circles on your back as you subtly snuggle closer, lifting your face slightly to see him better. 

“It’ll be weird if one of us is awake” You could see the corners of Hongjoong’s lips curve upwards into a soft smile, making you do the same as your fingers trace his jaw.

“Sorry, but I have no more sleeping pills” 

“You need to get tired somehow” By now, your face was just as close to his as your body was against his body. 

“What do you suggest I do?” Hongjoong had stopped drawing his little circles on your back, smoothing his hand over to your waist before rubbing his thumb along the exposed skin his shirt had uncovered. 

At this distance, Hongjoong could probably hear the sound of your heart beating like crazy in your chest. Your hand had trailed down from his neck to his chest, hand cupping over his heart as your eyes flickered up to his. 

“Me” Hongjoong couldn’t mutter another word as your lips locked onto his, kissing him passionately as your arm snaked around his neck.

Hongjoong kissed you back just as hungrily, hand caressing your waist as they moved down to your hips and pushing you onto your back against the bed. Your tongue swiped across Hongjoong’s bottom lip before biting it softly, earning a vivid smirk against the kiss. 

Your legs wrap around Hongjoong’s torso as he pushed his body between your legs, swivelling his hips against yours with the noticeable tent rubbing against your aching heat. You couldn’t help but moan against Hongjoong’s lips as his hands slide under your, or should you say, his shirt, roaming every inch of your skin.

“You look so good in my clothes” Hongjoong growled against your lips before trailing his kisses down your neck, harshly sucking on the skin as he hikes up the shirt right above your breasts. 

“I look good in everything” Your fingers run along the skin of Hongjoong’s waist, hiking his shirt up before letting him pull it over his head. 

“You’re not wrong” A small gasp left your lips as Hongjoong takes a breast into his mouth with his hand cupping the other, squeezing it gently as you play with the hair at the back of his head. 

“Mhm” Your hips grind upwards against his hard-on, desperate for some friction against your throbbing clit and dripping wet cunt. 

You couldn’t help but grip his hair tighter as Hongjoong swirls his tongue around your nipple, sucking on your breast as his hand caresses your waist before hooking under the waistband of your pants. Suddenly, you didn’t feel the need to sleep.

Your legs slide up and down against Hongjoong’s sides before lifting your hips, letting Hongjoong cascade your pants down, throwing it onto the floor as his lips smother your stomach in kisses. His warm breath scattered over your skin as Hongjoong trails his wet kisses down to the waistband of your panties, fingers teasing your inner thighs with harsh squeezes.

Your face scrunches in desperation as Hongjoong pulls your panties down, licking your skin gently before kissing just above your clit, making you clench around nothing yet gushing over the slightest touches. Hongjoong eyes you from below with a devilish smirk, pushing your legs further apart before hooking his arms underneath.

“You look even better like this” Your legs twitched slightly as Hongjoong kisses your inner thighs, blowing softly against your sopping wet pussy, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hips subconsciously buck up towards his face.

“You’re such a tease” You moaned out, arms stretching above your head as Hongjoong kisses your clit before lapping his tongue at it.

“I know” A breathy moan left your lips as Hongjoong sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud of nerves as his fingers slip between your folds. 

It was quite a feeling seeing Hongjoong lapping away at your pussy with the glimpse of moonlight shining through the window, highlighting his back as his arms flexed with each movement. You couldn’t hold back another moan as Hongjoong slipped a finger into you, pumping slowly before adding another.

Your face furrowed in pleasure with Hongjoong’s eyes piercing at you from below, lips attached to your clit as he hooked his fingers deep in you. If breathing wasn’t difficult before, it definitely was now.

“Fuck, right there” Hongjoong’s tongue worked faster, fingers coating in your arousal as Hongjoong peppers sloppy kisses all around before reaching up for your lips.

Your knees bent instantly as Hongjoong buried his fingers deeper in you, pumping faster until you could hear the subtle squelches of your juices against his fingers. His teeth clash with yours as your lips hungrily meet each other, moving in sync with your arms pulling him closer.

It felt like a film of buzzing sensations had just washed over your body with each pump growing faster. Hongjoong’s palm rubbed over your clit, making you moan against his lips. Your lips hovered over Hongjoong’s, mouth wide open as Hongjoong’s hand worked faster, fingers slipping out and smearing your juices over your clit before rubbing it.

“Shit- fuck, Hongjoongohmygod” Your abdomen tensed hard as you nerves spark with each rub, close to emitting a firework in the pits of your stomach as Hongjoong’s fingers circle at your clit.

“You like that?” The whisper against your ear made you moan a soft ‘yes’ as Hongjoong’s face dips into your neck, kissing your jawline as you pull on his hair.

“Oh mmphhhfuck” It was only a matter of seconds before you had felt an explosion of bliss triggered by the pace at which Hongjoong was circling at your clit, making your legs tremble as they stayed opened by Hongjoong’s hand firmly planted against your thigh. 

Your brows furrow deeply, jaw clenched as Hongjoong smears your release on his fingers again before bringing them up to your lips, letting you take them into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his fingers making sure to keep your eyes locked on his. A groan escapes from his lips as he admires you from above, lips brushing against yours as he rubs his legs against yours.

“You want more?”

“Please” You bring your knee up to his crotch, feeling the hardened length over his sweatpants before rubbing your knee against it subtly.

“Fuuck” Hongjoong swiftly pecks your lips before standing on his knees, tugging his sweatpants down before throwing it off the bed, leaving him in his boxers.

The moonlight highlighted the crevasses on Hongjoong’s body, from the lining of his back to the lining of his abs. He looks tremendously good at this angle, making you lick your lips in anticipation before standing on your own knees, palming Hongjoong’s hard cock over his boxers.

Hongjoong cups both sides of your face, pulling you closer for a hungry kiss as a hand flies up over his, kissing him back just as passionate. You could feel his cock twitch under the material of his boxers, waiting to be held and clenched around.

Your palm rubs against his clothed dick, making him moan as he bit down on your bottom lip. Hongjoong’s hips bucked forward against your hand, rolling it subtly with the movements of your hand.

Your tongues lapped together as Hongjoong pulled you closer by the waist, cupping your ass before giving it a squeeze. Your head tilts as Hongjoong smothers your jaw in soft kisses before trailing them back down to your neck, making you moan a soft ‘fuck’ as you tug at his boxers, letting his cock spring free as you pulled them down.

“There’s a lot of things I could’ve done to sleep,” Hongjoong runs his hand through his hair, eyeing you down as you lower yourself down on him with a hand wrapped around his dick “, but I never expected this”. 

“Are you telling me you don’t want this?” Your tongue licked a stripe from the base of Hongjoong’s dick to the tip, letting the tip of your tongue sit on his slit as your hand caressed the rest of his dick.

Hongjoong throws his head back with a groan before taking a hold of your hair between his fingers. His face scrunches in pleasure as your lips wrap around his dick, keeping eye contact as your head bops back and forth, swirling your tongue around the base of his cock throbbing in your mouth.

“Mhm fuck-” A breathy moan fell between Hongjoong’s parted lips, brows furrowed deeply as his thighs tremble at the feeling of you slobbering on his dick.

The grip on your hair tightens, slightly stinging as Hongjoong rocked his hips subtly against your mouth. His abdomen tensed hard as a rock the moment you took his length deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat before pumping the rest of what you couldn’t reach with your hand.

You could taste the precum spewing from his dick as your wetness felt like it was about to drip from your pussy. Hongjoong shot you a daring look as he admired you from above, mouth gaping as broken moans fell from his lips.

Your mouth comes off his dick with a pop as you continue to pump his length, running a hand up from Hongjoong’s abs to his chest only to have Hongjoong grab your wrist, spinning you around as you fell on your knees and hands. You smirked as your head turned to the side, seeing Hongjoong caress your ass cheek with both hands before spreading them apart.

“So beautiful” Your back dipped deeper as you push your ass back, letting the tip of Hongjoong’s dick poke at your entrance as he slides it up and down your slit, coating it in your wetness as you crave the sensation.

It was almost a feeling you quite missed as Hongjoong pushed his dick into your hole, stretching it out with a moan coming from the both of you as you take in his length. You almost forgot how good it felt to have someone bury their cock deep in you before rolling their hips. Hongjoong just brought that sensation back to your memory.

“Fuck, Hongjoong” With your knees digging deep into the mattress and arms stretched far above you, Hongjoong grips your hips, squeezing them before rolling his hips into you, just pushing his dick into you deeper than before. 

You run a hand through your hair, pushing it back as Hongjoong thrusts into you, starting slow as your breathing quickens with each hit into your body. You could feel Hongjoong leaning down, pushing your hair to one side before attacking your shoulder with sloppy kisses, hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin.

His hand remained on your hip, squeezing it still as the other travels up from your thigh to your breast, fondling it before reaching for your neck. A quiet moan left your lips as Hongjoong wraps his fingers around your neck, squeezing ever so gently as his thrusts grew faster, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

“Ohmygodnnghh-” It was a hoarse moan thanks to Hongjoong’s fingers pressing down on the sides of your neck as pleasure shoots through your body with each body lurching thrust. 

“You’re right,” Hongjoong plants a soft kiss behind your ear, still holding on to your neck as his hand on your hips moves between your legs, fingertips lingering along the skin before circling at your clit “, you do look good in everything, even with my fingers around your throat”.

“Maybe even better down my throat” You smirked, a devilish grin carving into your face as you turn around, pulling Hongjoong’s face down for a harsh kiss as he slaps his hips in you.

You couldn’t help but push your ass further back, letting Hongjoong slam his cock deeper and harder into you with each thrust. Your mind slowly thickens with lust and senseless thoughts as Hongjoong rubs your clit in pace with his thrusts, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip the sheets tighter.

“Oh?” Hongjoong cocked a brow, smirking with you before flipping you on to your back, spitting at your pussy before sliding himself in again, thumb rubbing your clit as your legs wrap around his waist.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust knocking you up and down with pleasure and nerves buzzing in the pit of your stomach. You entwine your fingers with Hongjoong’s before dragging his hand over your stomach to your chest, grabbing your breast with his hand as the other rubs your clit. 

“Oh fuckkkk mhmm oh god” Hongjoong rolls your nipple between his fingers, squeezing your breast before sliding it back up to your neck, thumb swiping across your bottom lip, letting you softly kiss it before wrapping your lips around it. 

Your eyes only roll back further when Hongjoong quickens his pace, making you tighten your legs around his waist, trapping him as sounds of skin slapping against skin grows louder. Your back arches off the bed in response to Hongjoong grabbing both sides of your hips, rutting himself into you at a relentless speed. 

It was almost as if he was trying to dig deeper, thrusting harder into you as your jaw was left hanging, inaudible moans trying so hard to escape with each thrust sparking something new in your body. All rational thought flew out of your head as your mind was left on nothing but soaking in a puddle immense pleasure and bliss.

“Yesyes- oh fuck yes” Your face scrunches in pleasure as your brows furrowed deeply, cupping your breasts in your hands as you look down to Hongjoong pounding himself into you. 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched hard, on the brink of breaking as he grunts through gritted teeth, slamming his hips faster into you with his hands keeping you in place. It felt like confetti exploding in the pit of your stomach with each thrust bringing you closer to a high much more than just confetti, nerves buzzing into a firework ready to combust at any given moment. 

“F-Faster mhmmfuckk” Hongjoong shoots you a glaring stare with his hooded eyes, smirking with his parted lips. 

Your legs couldn’t hold around Hongjoong anymore, sliding off like jelly as your toes curl with every passing second. And with each of those seconds, you could feel it coming, the way your heart threatened to jump out of your chest at any moment and the way your back arched with each static euphoria coursing through your veins ready for combustion.

“Yes! Yesyes oh god! Yes- mmphhhmmfuckk!” It felt like you’ve lasted forever until the ball of buzzing nerves in the pit of your stomach finally flooded throughout your body, filling every inch with nothing but toe-curling, eye-rolling blissful euphoria and pleasure. Hongjoong groaned as he felt your warm release around his cock, desperate to chase his own high while fucking you senseless. 

“Ohhhh god- fuckk” Your legs tremble as Hongjoong pulled out quickly, removing his hand from your hip to pump at his throbbing twitching cock above your stomach, gazing into your eyes before landing down for a kiss. 

“Mhmmfuck ohmygod-” Hongjoong groaned against your lips, body twitching as you felt his warm release spew onto your stomach, panting like crazy with each kiss stealing another breath of air. 

“All out, baby, all out” A hand cups one side of Hongjoong’s face as you wrapped your other hand around his cock, milking the rest of his high out as he heavily drops his head into your neck, panting as if it were his last. 

Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the palm of your hands, droplets of cum still dripping onto your stomach as his legs collapse. You smeared the rest of his cum over the tip of his cock, thumb swiping over the slit before Hongjoong lifts his face again.

“You’re fucking amazing” It was a mere whisper but you could hear him clearly over the pounding sounds of your heartbeats. 

“Clean me up before you go complimenting me” You swiftly steal a peck on Hongjoong’s lips before pressing your palm against Hongjoong’s chest, pushing him up onto his knees.

“How is this supposed to make me sleep when I just want more now?” Hongjoong yanks a few layers of tissues from the box on the bedside table, catching his releasing into the tissue before carefully trapping it with another layer of tissue.

“More? Oh god, you’re awake awake” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair as Hongjoong collapses on his back beside you.

“It was your idea” 

“But did it work though?”

“You mean, do I want to sleep now?”

“Yeah, do you?”

“With you? Definitely” Hongjoong opens his arms for you to snuggle closer, fingers drawing little shapes on your shoulder when you lay your head on his chest.

“Snnggff-” It was quite amusing how Hongjoong managed to hide his secret cheesy persona.

“Wait, I can’t. This is weird”

“What’s weird?” 

“This is Yunho’s bed”

_

Copyright © 2020 by serendipityunho All Rights Reserved

[crowdedimagines]

Who Is That? Part 2 (Harry Styles)

PART ONE

In the span of a week Harry and I go on two dates, our third taking place in a few hours. I’ve never moved so quickly with someone, but I’ve also never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly.

By the time I got up to my apartment I already had a text from Harry asking when he could see me again to take me out on a date. I immediately called Hannah to gush over what had happened. She seemed to be just as shocked as I was, especially being that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with him the last time she saw me.

Our first date, Harry took me out to eat. We only waited until the next day before we decided to meet up again. The more we got to talking the less we wanted to wait. Over dinner we were able to get to know each other a little better. Harry made me promise not to google him before the date. He found it refreshing to come across someone who didn’t know of his stardom. Instead he got to tell me all about it himself. I got to tease him about how this was the second time he was paying for my meal, but only our first date.

It took a while to meet up again, I officially started teaching. It took me a few days to get into the swing of things. In the meantime Harry and I texted and called to keep in touch.

Our second date was my idea. I decided it might be nice to go on a hike. I hadn’t been on any of the trails in Los Angeles in years, so I was glad to be back. Harry seemed to be thrilled with the idea as well. It was surprising how for someone who looks to be in shape, he becomes out of breath quite easily. We would talk the whole time, pausing to take in the view. Another successful date.

Hannah couldn’t help but freak out that things were going so well. She felt responsible since it was her idea for me to go up to him in the first place. She liked to gloat and tease me about giving a speech at our wedding. She also claimed that if she wasn’t godparent to at least one of our kids she would be pissed.

Tonight is Harry and I’s third date. He asked me when he dropped me off after our hike and he’s given me no details. We’ve talked and I ask him how to dress and what to bring, but he hasn’t budged on anything. Haven’t wavered even slightly on giving me some details.

“So, what are you wearing tonight?” Hannah asks, she watches me on facetime digging through my closet.

“I have no clue.” I huff, “I just don’t know what to expect. Like are we going out to dinner? Should I dress fancy? Or our last date was hiking so what if we’re like going rock climbing? I hate this.”

I sigh and lay back on my floor, piles of clothes around me.

“I may have heard from a little bird what you’re doing, so I would dress casual and cute.” Hannah admits, I can hear her laugh.

“You know what the date is?” I ask, sitting up to look at her proud smirk. She gives an evil nod in response. Of course they’re in cahoots.

“You ass! You’ve watched me sigh over my clothes for twenty minutes now. So what's the date?” I ask, picking up my phone from my desk to get a better look at the screen.

“I’m not telling! You will love it tho.”

“Okay, so casual and cute.” I reevaluate the items in my closet, trusting that she knows how I should dress appropriately. I settle on a short floral dress and a denim jacket. I put it on and turn back to Hannah for her opinion.

“It’s perfect!”

“Well that’s good because I think I just heard him at the door.” I reach for my phone and my purse, “Thanks!”

I yell a simple ‘coming’ so he knows that I heard him. I check myself in the mirror one more time by the door before deciding it’s good enough.

“Hi.” I swing open the door.

“Hello, love.” He leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. I smile leaning into his touch before turning around to lock my door behind me.

“Ready?” He asks, walking me towards the elevator.

“As ready as I can be for a mystery date.” I grin.

We go downstairs, Harry holds the passenger door open for me.

“I don’t get to drive?” I tease, sticking out my bottom lip in a pout.

“Not when you don’t know where we’re going.” He walks around to the other side and gets in. I’ve decided this car is my favorite when the top is down. It takes my hair with the wind, pulling it in every direction. I normally would hate that for going on a date, but it does the same thing to his curls.

We drive for a while and get on the freeway, telling me that we aren’t going anywhere very close.

“So, how was your first week?” Harry asks, referring to my first week with students.

“It was great. It was a long week, I’m glad it’s Friday, but it’s only confirmed that this is what I’ve always wanted to do. How about you, how was your week?”

I squint to look at him as I wait for an answer. The setting sun casting an orange haze over both our faces.

“I spent most of the week in the studio.” He glances over at me.

“Wait, but didn’t you tell me that you recently released an album?” I tuck my hair behind my ears.

“Yeah, I did. You can never spend too much time in the studio. Plus I was feelin a bit inspired.”

“Were you, now?” I tease, biting back a smile.

He simply nods, trying not to give in to many more words. He should know by now that I’m not going to let him off that easy.

“So, have you already written a song about me?”

He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid giving anything away. I don’t pull my eyes away from him, not wanting to miss an emotion that crosses his face. His cheeks heat up in the most adorable shade of pink.

“Wow.” I smirk, “If you keep that up, I’m going to become the narcissist in this relationship.”

“So we have a relationship now?” He decides to flip it on me now.

He’s successful in shutting me up for a minute. It’s true that we haven’t discussed exactly what we are. We are heavily flirty, but we haven’t even kissed, nothing more than the cheek at least.

“I must be pretty amazing then, huh?” I fill the void, bringing it back to me, wanting to know more about what he could be possibly writing about in the studio the past week.

“That’s where I have to agree.”

Silence fills the car, but it’s comfortable. We just listen to the radio, I watch the scenery pass by as we drive farther and farther from the city. I rest my arm on the top of the door, letting my hand float in the wind. Harry pulls me out of my trance when he reaches out to the radio.

“What?” I question as he turns down the radio. He has a funny look on his face as he does it.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, “Just don’t always enjoy listening to my own music.”

“Shut up!” I grin, Harry has still been adamant about wanting to keep me in my little bubble of unawareness. He wanted us to find out things about each other organically so I haven’t been granted the pass to listen to his music yet, “This is meant to be.”

I reach to turn it back up again, letting it play loudly through the speakers. He rolls his eyes but a smile still graces his face, he gives up feigning annoyance. His arm resting across the bench of our chair drops to my shoulders to pull me a little closer. The wind was whipping my hair, but now due to his arm it’s settled. I lean in to rest my head against his shoulder, grateful for the small car. It makes the cuddling a little easier.

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He continues down the freeway, the sky dimming as we go. We’re miles from the city, nothing is familiar anymore.

“Close your eyes.” He smiles.

“Why?” I squint sceptically.

“Because it’s more fun this way.” He manages to keep glancing between me and the road, “Humor me, love.”

“Fine.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and keep them shut, even as he slows. He makes several turns, we’re obviously far from the freeway now. The roads get quieter and quieter and eventually I can hear us turn on to a gravel road.

“I knew it, you are some creep.” I turn to face him, still keeping my eyes closed, “Taking me out into the middle of nowhere to kill me.”

“Shut up, would ya.” He nudges my shoulder, “You’re going to ruin the fun.”

I can hear the smile in his tone. He’s having way too much fun with this, but also it’s getting me excited for whatever he’s planned. It wouldn’t take much for him to win me over. He’s so charming, and we just click. I would be happy with picking up a pizza and talking. It doesn’t take much to fall for this boy.  

“Okay, you can open.” He’s finally parked. I picked up on outside noises of people talking and other cars.

I peek my eyes open to see where we’ve finally stopped. A drive in movie, Harry’s car parked a few rows back giving us the perfect view of the screen.

“Shut up.” I sit up, reluctantly leaving Harry’s grip so I can sit up a little more and look around.

“Harry.” I turn to look  at him, his eyes already on me, “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“C’mon, let’s go get some snacks.”

We walk over to the snack booth to get drinks and popcorn.

“I haven’t done one of these since I was a kid.” I laugh, taking a piece from the bag, “What movie are we seeing anyway?”

“Grease.” He grins, “A classic drive in movie.”

We go back to his car with our snacks just as the movie starts. The bench seating makes it so Harry can slide more to my side and avoid sitting under the steering wheel the whole time. Once we’re done snacking, we cuddle in a little more. Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder, I throw my legs over his lap. His free hand tracing patterns absentmindedly on my leg.

“I think I watched this movie a hundred times in year four.” He whispers into my hair.

“Really?” I grin thinking about ten year old Harry watching this movie on repeat.

“It was my favorite, I think I proper annoyed everyone else. Gemma hated me for it, I think she still hates this movie.”

I laugh pulling back to look at his smiling face. His eyes leave the screen once he notices I’m no longer watching.

“Whatcha starin at?” He teases.

“You.” I smirk, I focus my attention on his lips. He licks them once he notices my gaze. I tilt my head up towards his slightly, hinting. He smiles before leaning down to finally connect our lips. His hand leaves my leg to cup my cheek and deepen the kiss. I reach my hand to run through his curls, something I’ve been wanting to do since I saw him in the bar.

We both pull back to catch our breath after a few minutes of an intoxicating kiss. I peck his lips once more to get one last taste. Harry doesn’t seem to want it to be over either, pulling me close again. I laugh as he presses kisses down my jaw, trailing them down my chest. He trails them down between my breasts as far as the cut of my dress will allow.

“Harry.” I laugh, pulling on his hair lightly to grab his attention again.

“Hmm?” He finally pulls back to look at me again, he has a dopey grin. I’m still practically sitting in his lap, but I long to be closer. Needing to feel his lips burning against mine.

I push him down slowly, so his back is flat against the seat. I move to straddle his hips before I move down to join. I trace my hand along his jawline, letting the moment build this time. The tension is at an all time high, finally Harry loses patience and pulls me down to his lips again.

We continue the hot makeout for the rest of the movie. We manage to pry ourselves apart once Danny and Sandy are flying away in the car, the end of the movie. Harry clears his throat as he starts his car. I manage to stifle my laugh, Harry makes me feel like I’m a teenager again. Making out in a car, not wanting to go home just yet.

“How are we ever going to top this date?” I ask, my forehead resting against his neck. We’re just now pulling back on to the freeway, we’ve got a long way to go.

“I don’t really know.” He grins, “I’ve quite enjoyed this one.”

“I don’t want this night to end.” I reach my hand up to feel the breeze against it.

“It doesn’t have to.” His eyes flicker between me and the road, “My house is actually in Malibu. We practically have to drive right by it. We don’t have to! I didn’t mean to insinuate that we need to spend the night at my house.”

Harry being a proper gentleman, afraid he’s offended me. In reality it’s excited me.

“No, it sounds like fun.” I grin.

Harry continues driving, thankfully Malibu isn’t as far as driving all the way back into L.A. We both started non stop yawning about ten minutes ago, I think the tiring week and how late it is catches up with us. He enters the code to his gate and drives up the long driveway.

“Jesus, this is your house?” I laugh, looking around at his large Malibu home, “How’d you get this again?”

“Rockin and rollin and whatnot.” Harry laughs, putting on his best Danny Zuko impression to quote the movie. I throw my head back in laughter as he guides us to the front door, his hand resting on my lower back.

“You’re such a dork.” I whisper with a laugh.

“Oh really? I’m a dork? You seem to really like this dork.” He smirks, backing me into his house. I don’t even look around because I don’t want to break eye contact. Something about Harry’s eyes pull you in, enchanting you. Creating a wave of butterflies in my stomach.

“I do really like you.” I admit.

“Wow, she even said it without teasing.” He reaches forward to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I did.” I smile, “Believe it or not, I’m not always teasing you.”

“It’s okay if you were, surprisingly I like it when you tease me. You keep me on my toes.”

Harry shows me around slightly, a mini tour not going into it fully until we get to the master bedroom.

“Well this is my room.” He blushes, becoming his more shy side.

“It’s cute.” I smirk, “Do you have anything I could sleep in?”

“Yeah, of course.” He goes into his closet and comes back with a soft tee shirt and a pair of his boxers, “My bathrooms right through there.”

He gestures to the en suite. I go in to wash my face, brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush, and change. I decide the tee shirt is enough, it falls down far enough to feel comfortable. I fold my clothes and his boxers and leave them on the counter.

“You look way better in that than I do.” He admires from his bed, sitting up against his headboard.

“Tell me about it, stud.” I tease, throwing a Grease quote back at him. He lets out a loud laugh, not expecting the call back to the movie, little does he know I’ve been waiting to quote the movie since he did.

I walk over to his bed and pull back the covers to climb in, Harry sinks down next to me. I let out another loud yawn, Harry mimics it a second later. His warm arms wrap around my waist, pulling him closer to his side.

“Y/n?” Harry whispers after a few minutes of silence, checking to see if I’m still awake.

“Hmm?” I ask, struggling to keep my eyes open.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” His voice is just loud enough for me to hear it.

“Really?” I smile, turning around to see his face.

He nods, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I get it if you think we’re moving too fast. If you don’t want the title that’s fine. I just want you to know that I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t want to pursue anyone else. I don’t want to play a game, I just want you.”

“I want you too, Harry.” I lightly trace my fingers over his jawline until I guide his face down to mine for a brief kiss.

“I would love to be your girlfriend.”

i hope you guys loved this part just as much as the first. xoxo

[hannahcoursey]

Jealous Minds Part 2

Author: Hannahc56

Word Count: 3,391

Request: Hi! Can I put in a request for a dean x reader? Dean and the reader are friends with benefits and neither want a relationship because they’re too much pressure for both of them being hunters. But then during a case, YN runs into an old boyfriend and they actually had a great relationship and broke up because he had to move for work and they both got out to catch up and Dean is super jealous because he wants that same type of relationship with her. (Sorry if it’s too much. LOVE YOUR WORK!!!)                

PART ONE                                                                     

A few hours had passed and you found yourself eagerly waiting for Daryn to pull into the gravel parking lot of the motel. You had put on a nice pair of jeans, without blood or holes, and a nice black tank top. You’d popped in a pair of earrings you always had sitting in the bottom of your bag that you never got to wear. With a few quick swipes of mascara, you were as dolled up as you were going to get. It wasn’t much, but you felt alright and put together for once and a small part of yourself wish you could do this more often. It was nice to feel pretty every now and then, but your lifestyle didn’t call for a nice manicure or decent clothes. Loud pounding on the door pulled you out of your thoughts, as you took one more look at yourself in the mirror before running to open it. The smile fell off your lips when the door revealed Dean. His face was hard, it was obvious he was in deep thought. When he looked up and saw you, his expression softened. The two of you stood there while he took every inch of you in. A heat rose to your cheeks and you cleared your throat. 

“Can I help you with something?” You asked, leaning your arm on the door. Dean’s eyes shot up to yours and he slightly shook his head. 

“I-I just wanted to come and,” he hesitated, licking his lips, “Wish you good luck on your date.” He finished. You rolled your eyes and sighed. 

 “Funny, Dean. See ya.” You turned to shut the door, but his hand sprawled across it. 

“No, I mean it,” He nodded, “I know how much you cared about Daryn, I-I hope that it goes alright.” He said, letting his hand fall away from the door. You stared at him, your brows crunched in confusion of what sort of scheme he was playing at. His eyes darted back and forth between yours as your brain searched for words to string together to respond. When you didn’t say anything, his eyes fell to the ground and he nodded slow. “You look nice.” He said, his lips in a tight smile, “Anyways, have fun.” He finished, before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the doorway. You blinked, trying to process the words that’d just come from his lips. Your heart felt like a cinder block in your chest. You let your hand fall to the door knob and slowly pushed the door shut. You leaned against it, your mind running a million miles a minute. Across the room from you was a dusty mirror, only your reflection stared back at you. Why was your heart pounding in your chest? Why were you even going on this date? Was this even to be considered a date? Before you could answer any of the questions that rattled around in your mind, a loud knock from behind the door you were leaning against shook you out of the deep consciousness you’d fallen into with a jump. Maybe Dean was back - maybe he was going to tell you not to go, that the two of you would spend the rest of the night tangled up in the scratchy motel sheets, whispering throughout the night, stealing kisses on exposed skin. The thought alone had you ready to bolt out of your room to find him. You turned and opened the door, Dean’s name about to fall off your tongue, when your eyes fell on Daryn. 

His eyes shimmered when he saw you, a smile lighting up his face. Your expression dropped for a moment, before you forced a smile. He pulled a small bouquet of roses from behind his back and flashed his picture perfect grin at you. 

“Daryn, these are beautiful,” You shook your head and accepted the gesture, “You shouldn’t have.” You turned and set them down on the table beside you. He threw a hand up and waved. 

“Hey, it’s the least I could do,” He laughed, as you pulled the door shut, locking it behind you. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you as if he was memorizing every detail of your face. Color rose to your cheeks and you looked down. “You ready?” He asked, your eyes floating up to meet his again. You nodded and followed him as he walked over to his car, a new sporty car that surely was meant to be impressive. He walked with you to the passenger side and held open the door for you as you got in. Right as you sat down, you heard someone call your name from down the motel strip. You looked around, scanning for someone underneath the overhead flicking lights of the walkway until your gaze fell on Dean. He waved a hand at Daryn, who hesitantly waved in return.

“Have her back by midnight alright? Trust me, you don’t wanna see what she looks like when the fairy godmother’s spell wears off.” He laughed, throwing a wink in your direction sarcastically before turning towards the motel room door and walking in. Daryn pulled open the driver side door and slide in the low-riding seat. His eyebrows were crunched in confusion as he looked over at you.

“So, do you guys usually share rooms or?” He trailed off, the awkward tension in the air filling the small cabin quickly. You felt embarrassment rise to your face as you shook your head, trying to laugh it off.

“No, no, most definitely not, he just was probably grabbing something from the room, I guess,” You struggled to string together a sentence and rubbed your hands against your thighs nervously. Daryn let out a strangled laugh and started the car without saying anything more. You looked out your window, silently cursing the older Winchester as your heart fluttered at the thought of the things the two of you did behind locked motel room doors. 

The ride to the bar was mostly quiet, the sound of the radio filling the spaces where neither of you could manage the right words to say. When you pulled up, Daryn escorted you to a booth in the corner. The place was packed. It was loud, lights strobing every second, making it hard for you to make out where you were walking, and you struggled to imagine how fun it would be to actually get drunk in this type of atmosphere. The bass music of the loud rap made your chest rumble and you found yourself yearning for a biker bar, squeezed between the boys at the bar while classic rock played from a jukebox.

“Y/N? Y/N/N?” Daryn said your name and you shook yourself out of your daydream.

“I-I am so sorry, was I spacing out?” You ran a hand through your hair and took a breath, letting out a light laugh, “Long day, you know how it goes.” You gave him a grin. He nodded and waved down the bartender before turning his attention back to you.

“I was just saying how great you looked tonight,” He said, his tone genuine and inviting. You couldn’t fight the smile that rose to your face thinking of the memories the two of you shared.

“Well thank you Daryn,” You tucked the hair behind your ears and leaned forward on the table, “You don’t look half bad yourself.” You beamed at him. Before he could answer, the bartender stepped up and asked for your orders.

“I’ll take a-” You began, but Daryn reached out and laid his hand on top of yours, effectively stopping you in your tracks. 

“I’ll take a beer and the beautiful lady will have a Vodka Cranberry please, extra cranberry.” He told the bartender as she nodded and walked off. A feeling you couldn’t put a name to filled your chest. Was it nostalgia? Or was it disappointment? You flashed him a quick smile. “Not too bad for not seeing you for this long, I still remember your favorite drink.” He laughed, reaching over and grabbing your other hand with his other hand, focusing entirely on you. 

“No, I’m impressed, that was pretty good. I gotta tell you though, I’m more of a whiskey bourbon kinda gal these past few years.” You said, trying not to visibly shiver as the thought of a Long Island Iced Tea hangover. His eyes grew wide for a moment before he let out a breath.

“Wow, you?” He shook his head, “Now that surprises me. You could hardly keep it down when we were younger.” He chuckled, bringing back memories of your high school days, sneaking around drinking your parents alcohol. 

“Well yeah,” You snorted, “We were drinking rubbing alcohol it seemed like, we had the nastiest stuff.” You felt yourself thinking of all the times you’d use a fake ID to get the cheapest vodka you could find, only for it to taste twice as bad the second time later on in the night. 

“Yeah, yeah, that led to some pretty rough nights,” He agreed, squeezing your hands softly, “But also some of the best nights too, you know?” He finished, his voice softening as his expression did. And there it was - that same pang in your chest. The more it happened, the more it began to feel like disappointment seeping through your lungs. He stared at you, his iri’s moving from your E/C eyes to your lips. You nodded and pulled your hands out of his, pretending to scratch the back of your neck. He leaned back in the booth, your mind grasping for things to talk about.

“So, what have you been up to? You were at State College for half the first year then disappeared off the face of the earth, no one knew where you went.” He pried, your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. God, anything but that question. You cleared your throat and tried to force eye contact, but the topic proved too difficult. 

“T-That’s a very fair question,” You let out a laugh that came out more like a sigh, “I-I just needed some time off, I traveled for a while,” You said slowly, which wasn;t necessarily a lie, “And just needed to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.” You finished, trying to tell him as much of the half truth that was possible without getting too much into the nitty-gritty. It was true, technically. You did travel while hunting monsters with the brothers and you did struggle with what you wanted to do for awhile; keep fighting the good fight or take a stab at the apple pie life. He nodded slow, as if he was ingesting what you were telling him and you prayed he wasn’t overanalyzing it too much. The holes in your story would be too large for him not to notice how it didn’t add up. “Anyways,” You scrambled to try to change the subject, “What made you want to become a ranger? I never would have pegged you for the type.” You asked right as the bartender brought over your drinks. He smiled while looking down the neck of his beer, thinking of his answer. Before he had the chance, you phone rang in your pocket. You struggled to get it out of the small compartment of your tight jeans and threw a hand up to him and he nodded. The phone vibrated as Dean’s name flashed across the screen. Throwing your legs off the side of the booth, you made your way outside to answer. 

“Dean?” You tried, holding the phone to one ear while you pressed a hand over the other. Mumbles came through the other end that sounded like gibberish. “Dean, I can’t hear you, gimme a second.” You said, hoping he could make out your words better than you could of his. As soon as your reached the parlor doors to the outside, you called his name again through the phone. “Okay, sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, shoving your hand in your pocket.

“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice raw, causing your heart to plummet, “Something’s wrong, you need to get back here,” He coughed, hardly audible on the other end. 

“Dean, talk to me, what’s going on?” You asked, panic rising in your tone.

“J-Just come home,” He wheezed before the line went dead. Your hands shook slightly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You turned on your heel and ran through the crowd, bumping into people and elbowing your way through them. When you reached Daryn, his soft expression had turned to a look of confusion.

“Daryn, I have to get back, something’s wrong.” You shook your head, trying to settle your hands as Daryn quickly got up from his seat and threw a few bills down next to your untouched drinks. Without making sure he was following, you raced back to the front doors, beelining to his car. When the both of your reached it, you strapped yourself in and he drove off, leaving dust in the rearview. The drive back to the motel felt like it took hours. When you pulled up to the strip, you noticed the Impala still sitting outside and your feet were on the ground before the car was in park. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears, your eyes scanning the surroundings. You noticed your motel room light was on. You turned to Daryn.

“Listen, I really appreciate you taking me out tonight and I-I’m sorry it had to be cut short, but I need to make sure everythings alright.” You rushed through your words while you managed to throw him a smile over your shoulder.

“Y/N, I can stay and make sure- '' He bega, but the thought of what unnatural force could be inflicting pain onto Dean was enough to make you cut his speech off short.

“No, no, I got it under control - I can call you, you still have the same number?” You spoke fast, trying to politely get to your motel room as quickly as possible. Daryn looked at a loss for words. To see him scrambling to try to spend another minute with you made your chest heavy with guilt, but this was Dean at stake. You turned before he could answer and opened the door so quick, you almost hit the wall behind it yourself. You were in fight mode, ready to rip apart whatever was wreaking havoc, ready to patch up Dean if he needed it, a million thoughts going through your head. Taking in the scene in front of you, the breath you had in your lungs slipped from your lips.

The room was dimly lit by dozens of small candles of all different colors and heights. On the table next to you was the beautiful bouquet from Daryn and a simple rose sitting next to it. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing his hands down his thighs. Your hand fell to your chest as you took a deep breath in.

“Dean,” Your eyes filled with tears that you begged not to slip down your face, “You scared the shit outta me.” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. Dean looked down at his hands.

“I-I know, I didn’t know how else to get you to come back,” He said, his voice low. You couldn’t believe the sight before you and you stood still, taking it all in. “Y/N, I should’ve done this a long time ago, but seeing you with Daryn” He said, shaking his head as he looked up at you, “ I couldn’t take it, watching you leave with him.” He stood up and crossed the small room to you, his hands picking up yours and rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. “I don’t have the fast car and the big bouquet and all that crap - but the way I feel about you,” He struggled to find the words and you knew that all of the effort he’d already put into this gesture was big for him, “What I can offer you is to always be there for you, to always stitch you up, to make sure you’re not alone when you wake up in the mornings - We don’t have to do this stuff alone Y/N and we’re crazy for thinking we had to.” He shook his head and his warm hand cupped your cheek. “I wanna do this with you, I mean it.” He finished, his eyes anxiously looking into yours, waiting for your response. Even in this lighting, his eyes were bright and lively, his nose peppered with the freckles you’ve loved since you noticed them the day you met him. Bringing your hand up to his other cheek, you pulled him in, your lips colliding together as if it were the first time. His other hand found its way to the side of your head and his fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled you in, passion filling your every movement. You pulled away, a few tears making their way down your flush cheeks.

“I would love to Dean,” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, “I’ve been in love with you since I laid eyes on you.” You smiled, your heart beating loudly at the confessions the two of you were sharing. He leaned back and pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“God, me too sweetheart.” He mumbled into the kiss, before pulling away and taking in every inch of your face before letting go of your hands and moving to the bed. Out of a small plastic bag, he pulled out a few styrofoam containers. “Got you your favorite,” He spoke as he opened the containers, spreading them around the bed. Two burgers sat in their separate containers with fries, and a few slices of pie in the other. You walked over and sat on the bed with him as he laid the food out and sat next to you. 

“Mhhh, bacon cheeseburger.” You took a deep breath in, the aroma of the greasy food filling the room. He rubbed your back, smiling.

“Extra bacon, the usual.” He laughed, still looking at you. You turned to him and kissed him once more, the feeling of his lips against yours making your heart drop to your toes. When you pulled away, his eyes were still shut, savoring every kiss the two of you shared.

“I am so in love with you, I hope you know.” You whispered, still close to his face. He blinked slow and a lazy grin crossed his features.

“I know.” He replied, his sarcasm causing you to throw your head back and let out a laugh. 

“Good, I’m glad.” You replied, smacking his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked at the candles around you.

“Now can I blow these out? It’s starting to smell like a friggin’ hallmark movie in here it’s nauseating.” He grumbled, your laugh filling the room as you shook your head at him.You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he went around to each of the candles and huffed them out.

You put on the tv and played the first movie that popped up and thought about all of the choices you’ve made in your life that got you to this exact moment. Life with the Winchester boys isn't for everyone. The life you lived was fast and dangerous, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. With Dean’s arms around you, shitty take out food in front of you and a whole life to share with him ahead, you found yourself filled with the sort of peace you didn’t think you’d ever get your hands on. 

----

Hope you guys liked it! My requests are always open!

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sunshine City: Four

A/N: We are nearing the end of this little story, my loves. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, and/or reblogged the last chapter. I adore you.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating For This Chapter: T for blood, injuries, a K*ss or two, my undying love of tropes and cliches

Catch up on previous chapters here!

London was a beautiful mix of sparkling skyscrapers and bygone brick and mortar. It reminded her of New York on one street and some sort of historical romance novel on the next.  The Tube was much more proficient than the subway and Bela was fond of the fact that Harry let her take him along to the office whenever she wasn’t on assignment.

But it still felt…like she was just visiting. 

“Mordred!”

She pivoted in her chair to see Roxy—Agent Lancelot—walk into her office. The young agent had been thought dead for a handful of weeks after Kingsman’s old headquarters had exploded, but she had survived. A little injured, more than a little confused, but quickly back to normal after Eggsy discovered her in the nearest hospital. She couldn’t remember her name but she did remember how to throw men over her shoulder like it was nothing. (The nurses were not a fan.) 

But Roxy was now back on her very-capable feet and usually out in the field. 

“Lancelot,” she replied with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Your cowboy has arrived in that atrocious car.” But a teasing smile was pulling at Roxy’s lips as she said it, letting Sunny know this would not be the end of their conversation. Roxy had almost instantly become aware of the strange relationship between Whiskey and the former Statesman agent and found it endlessly entertaining. While Eggsy was tending to his new duties as a prince of Sweden, Roxy had readily stepped into his role of friend to Sunny when Ginger was busy.

“He is not my cowboy.” She rose to her feet and Bela poked his little head out from under the desk where he’d been napping on an embroidered pillow, a Boxing Day gift from Merlin last year.

Roxy laughed, a full-belly laugh that had the other woman frowning. “You might want to tell him that. When he saw Tristan at the door he said, and I quote: ‘tell Sunny her cowboy is here.’ So, I do not believe he knows he isn’t your cowboy.”

She was able to keep her face neutral as Roxy’s smirk continued to grow but that did not mean her stomach did not flip and fill with butterflies. “I’ll let him know, Lancelot.”

Roxy laughed and nodded before excusing herself.

“At least he didn’t honk this time,” she muttered to herself. The pair had been assigned a mission and she expected him later that day.

The stately manor house just an hour outside London was the newest headquarters for the agency and usually agents and their American counterparts would use the underground bullet train under the (also recently rebuilt) tailor shop. It would take only a handful of minutes.

But apparently Whiskey had to be…different.

She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the door and Bela followed, matching his short stride to her longer one as she made her way out of her office, through the ornate and marble halls, and out toward the manicured lawn and front courtyard.

And there was Whiskey in his Bronco. His head was tilted back so it could catch the warmth of the infrequent sun and his stupid cowboy hat was still on his head. Her stomach tightened at the sight of the stretch of his neck. God. She still had it bad, didn’t she? Would the sight of someone’s neck make anyone (aside from her pathetically-in-love self) short of breath?

Their relationship hadn’t really changed since Tilde and Eggsy’s wedding. Well, that is what she told herself anyway. Their emails had progressed to whispered telephone calls about their days and missions and she had lost count how many times she had fallen asleep to the sound of Whiskey all-but crooning in her ear.

But…friends did that. Right?

They were friends.

The scratching of Bela’s little paws against the stone of the front steps grabbed his attention and his head lazily turned to the side as a familiar smile pushed up his lips, displaying the one dimple on his right cheek. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine?”

She tried halfheartedly to hide her smile as she slowed to a stop and leaned against the passenger-side door. “I’m Agent Mordred here, Whiskey.”

“Nope. You’ll always be my Sunshine.” He opened his door and Bela leapt up into his lap just long enough for the older agent to scratch behind his ear and then into the back seat where the corgi promptly made himself at home. Whiskey leaned over and opened the door for her and patted the leather of seat, smile never fading. “C’mon. We can talk on our way back to London.” 

She rolled her eyes but slid in. As she pulled the door closed, she said, “we could have taken the train.” 

“It don’t like it. The darn thing moves too fast.”

She scoffed with another smile. “I don’t believe anything moves too fast for you.”

As Whiskey started the engine he looked at her, head dipping so he could pin her with his stare over the edge of his gold-rimmed aviators. “On the contrary, Sunny. I like going slow.” He enunciated each word with that southern drawl and let his fingers slide around the worn leather of the steering wheel, nice and slow as they trailed over the stitching. “Take my time. Make it worth it when I finally reach a destination.”

Her head snapped toward the windshield as heat curled in her stomach and then strangled the next breath from her lungs. “Inappropriate.”

But he laughed and reached over to pat at her thigh and squeezed just above her knee before gravel spit beneath his tires when he pressed down on the gas.

The pair did actually speak about the mission as the unusually clear autumn day provided a perfect backdrop for their drive. “Why do we always get put on the nuclear waste missions? It is like Champ and Harry don’t like us.” She said with a huff.

“Maybe it’s our specialty, Sunshine.”

She reached out and smacked at his arm. The mission was a little more involved than Vegas. It involved a pair of couples from blue blood families who had turned to buying and selling anything and everything a would-be terrorist or dictator would need in order to keep their luxurious lifestyles. Merlin had managed to uncover the plans of an American couple about to meet with the dealers at a gala at one of the privately-owned castles in Scotland. While Tequila managed to neutralize the American couple, she and Whiskey would be taking their place, hopefully to stop them and uncover where they were getting their supply.

She gave him directions toward the tailor shop (where they could pick up a few gadgets and supplies) once they reached the right borough and laughed when he had trouble parallel parking. But after finally managing to squeeze the Bronco into a space definitely designed for something smaller, he darted around to open her door as she pulled Bela from his napping spot in the back.

She murmured a thank you as she let Bela lick at her cheek. Whiskey hummed and scratched behind Bela’s ear before placing a hand at the small of her back as she led them up toward the gleaming glass door of the tailor shop.

It was all very…domestic, in a stereotypical “southern gentleman” sort of way and she hated how much she liked it. But she had given up on actually hating anything he did. Especially when he smiled at her like that.

                                                    **

Edinburgh was magnificent. And Kingsman had made sure their agent and visiting Statesman were comfortable in a luxury hotel room and an extra agent to act as their chauffeur for the evening, solidifying their image as a well-to-do couple with nefarious intentions.

The past handful of hours were spent going over the plan before separating to get ready. Her dress was from some Italian designer Roxy insisted would look good on her and fit her like a black, silk glove. The thigh-high slit just barely covered the holster she’d strapped around her thigh but hopefully the dangerously low neckline would distract anyone away from her legs. The false eyelashes gave her pause for a moment—and a few tears as she stabbed herself right in the eye a few times—but she managed to put on a face full of makeup and finished with a berry-tinted lip and a heavy hand of jasmine and leather perfume.

Missions like this always made her a bit nervous. No matter how many times she’d completed them easily, they always made her feel like a kid playing dress up and waiting for a scolding. She took a few breaths and then stepped out of the bathroom and into the suite. Whiskey was there, fixing the silver cufflinks in his classic and sharply cut, dark blue suit. The dying light of the sun was framing him and the next exhale stuttered in her lungs. It was going to be a long night.

Whiskey turned at the sound of her red-soled shoes on the floor and smiled. And, of course, his eyes dragged from her toes, up her legs, her stomach, her chest…and then stopped.

“My eyes are up here, boss,” she said with a snort.

His dark eyes finally lifted up to hers as his smile slipped to a smirk. “I ain’t your boss, Sunshine.”

And her stomach actually clenched at that and she had to take a moment to clear her throat and remember that they were on a mission. “That’s good. We’re supposed to be lovesick newlyweds, right?”

Whiskey’s mouth—god, how many times was she going to stare at his mouth tonight?—twisted to the side with a frown as he took a few steps toward her and gently grasped her left hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the diamond-encrusted band on her finger before pressing her palm against his cheek with a sigh.

She let her thumb slide against his cheekbone for a moment, smelling his expensive cologne tickle her nose and the warmth of his hand over hers settled the nerves she felt.

“You look beautiful tonight. Truly.” He leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead before he squeezed the hand he had in his grasp and intertwined their fingers as he brought them down to his side. “An easy cover.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as his watch beeped, letting them know it was time to go. “Let’s get these guys.”

And she let him tug her along with her heart in her throat.

                                                  **

The gala was luxurious in every sense of the word and the targets were so ostentatious that it was easy to spot them even if she hadn’t memorized their faces. Whiskey made easy work for introducing them as Mr. & Mrs. Jameson and making the targets laugh and trust them. She played the part of doting newlywed with no trouble and let herself enjoy it—as Whiskey seemed to be doing with how many times he deemed it necessary to hold her hand or press a kiss to her cheek or forehead, avoiding her lips with a joke, “she always hates it when I mess up her lipstick.” She would let her hand slip under his suit jacket as she leaned against his arm at the dinner table, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her palm or push a smile to her lips whenever she had to lean in to whisper something in his ear about the security stationed around the room or how her Geiger counter, disguised as an opulent diamond tennis bracelet detected traces of radiation on the targets’ hands and feet. Especially on the woman’s—Alice—hands.

“Shall we talk shop in the gallery? I have heard they have a wonderful display of Mucha,” the man—Allan—said with a smile.

“I do adore Mucha,” she answered in return, tapping twice against Whiskey’s hand as it rested on her leg. Show time.

The pair of couples rose from their table and walked through the ball room and down a dimly lit hall toward the castle’s art gallery without much fanfare. In fact, she noticed that this whole ordeal didn’t have much fanfare at all. It was a wonder this couple had lasted this long without being taken down with how blatantly they spoke about their intentions. It was easy.

Too easy.

As soon as they stepped into the gallery, she noticed the ‘closed for maintenance’ signage. She was nearly leveled with a crack of a gun against the back of her head. The room swam for a moment and she stumbled but kept her footing and turned just in time to duck, dodging Allan as he tried to hit her again. She took a step back just enough to gain momentum before kicking out and slamming her stiletto heel into his chest.

It barely registered that Whiskey was busy handling Alice who had somehow produced a knife from god-knows-where and had managed to at least get him once with the amount of blood spilling across his white shirt.

But her attention was quickly brought back to Allan who was coughing, blood slipping from his lips as the he struggled to get to his feet. Her heel had punctured his chest. Oops. But the struggle was getting too loud. They couldn’t afford to be caught like this. It would ruin everything.

She stomped forward and grasped the sides of Allan’s head as he tried to stand and yanked. His body thudded to the ground just as Whiskey managed to sink a needle full of some yellow-tinted liquid into the side of Alice’s neck and she collapsed in his arms almost instantaneously.

The sound of approaching footsteps had them both scrambling. To hide the bodies (both of them were stuffed behind a statue in the corner). To clean up the blood (she grabbed Whiskey’s pocket square and made quick work of it all). There wasn’t time to make an escape. The thin beam of light from a flashlight was making its way down the hall, she could see it and tugged Whiskey toward her with steady hands.

“Don’t hate me.”

And then she pressed her lips to his and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him ever closer to hide the blood on his shirt.

Whiskey…could kiss. That was made abundantly clear with how easily he coaxed her lips apart to lick into her mouth, tasting of thousand-dollar-bottle champagne and mint. His warm hands grasped at her silk-covered hips and his face angled just the slightest bit so he could truly kiss her. Her hand shot into his hair on its own accord and mussed the carefully coifed locks. He groaned against her lips.

She could kiss him forever-

“Hey!”

They broke apart to see a disgruntled security officer standing in the gallery’s doorway.

“This area’s closed to the public.”

“Sorry man,” Whiskey drawled, keeping her close with a hand on her hip and her angled to keep his wound concealed, “just had to kiss my wife-”

“Do it somewhere else,” the man all but snarled before walking away.

She listened to his footsteps disappear before pushing out a soft laugh. Her heart was still racing. Her lips seemed to pulse in time with her heart and she licked them before she could stop herself, still tasting him. She quickly shot a message to the agent waiting outside that they had one body and one unconscious target to take care of before she stepped around the room, scrambling the security camera feeds with ease with the help of a small device Merlin had been particularly proud of.

She heard Whiskey walk up behind her but still jumped when his hands settled over her shoulders, a finger dragging under the strap of her dress and down her back. She shivered when she heard him chuckle against her throat, nose pressing against her pulse. Turning in his grip, she offered a small smile but didn’t pull away. She wasn’t sure when she would have him so close again. “Alice’ll be taken back to headquarters. Alan will be disposed of. Whoever set us up doesn’t have much time left.”

But Whiskey didn’t reply. His hands travelled up to carefully grasp at her face and he pressed a kiss to her lips—slow and sweet and perfect.

She pushed out a shaky breath as he pulled back and patted at his chest, mindful of the blood. “We are about to be in trouble if the guard comes back, Mr. Jameson,” she said, trying to save face.

“M’name’s Jack, Sunshine.”

“Jack,” she whispered back and she’d never liked a name more.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm​ @honestlystop​ @paryl​  @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

[bubmyg]

sweater paws - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: youtuber!au, the fluffiest fluff, jeongguk says to adopt don’t shop i heard him say it at least twice

word count: 1,874

summary: “these have been done before but I don’t care I love her” - a series on gcguk in which jeongguk tackles old, cheesy YouTube couple challenges. episode three: the ‘where am i?’ challenge or the responsibly adopt a dog for my half unsuspecting girlfriend challenge 

a/n: technically part 3 of idcilh but mostly just a part of the general youtuber!guk series (all of which are linked on my masterlist!!)

“Do you have any guesses where I might be taking you for your last location?”

Jeongguk couldn’t help but laugh at your indignant, non articulate response that was instead a series of disgruntled noises through pouted lips. Your arms were folded tightly to your chest, one knee curled inward and he could tell by the knit of your eyebrows and the scrunch of your nose that you were glaring behind the bandanna tied carefully around your eyes. 

“Ice cream, maybe?” You tried, tone hopeful until you added sharply, “You owe me, to be honest.”

In an effort to fulfill the requirements for the Where am I? challenge, Jeongguk had led your unsuspecting figure into the depths of Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment, letting you believe that he’d just driven you in circles for an hour only to end up back at your own apartment. When you ‘locked in’ your guess as the living room, Jimin and Taehyung had appeared wielding unlit lightsabers and promptly scaring the shit out of you while Jeongguk just cackled behind the lens of your camera. 

Your second location had been the park where you and Jeongguk often walked, the pond at the park to be exact, the bank of it where the tiniest bit of water lipped onto the inclined sand. It eventually soaked through the toes of your tennis shoes when Jeongguk had said, quote, you’ll be able to guess if you just take one more step forward, yeah, there— only to elicit a startled squeak from your throat and a pout to your lips when Jeongguk sat you down in the passenger seat of the car and carefully rolled new socks and shoes on your feet that he’d packed specifically for that part of the video. 

His surprise locations hadn’t been nearly as shocking as yours. You’d taken him to mall, forced him to wander through at the guide of only your hand, and then guess what shop you’d placed him inside. He’d guessed Urban Outfitters when it was instead a specialty toy shop. His second location had been the tattoo shop of one of his close friends, the one who had slowly been adding to the little pieces of ink all over his knuckles. It was no exception and he guessed it immediately after a tiny yelp with the first touch of the tattoo gun, even allowing the artist to etch out the last of the tiny heart on the bend of his thumb after he’d pulled the blindfold off. 

“Why do I owe you?” Jeongguk wondered innocently, only to have to duck into himself when you swung a searching arm to smack his chest and scold goodnaturedly stop trying to hit the driver. 

“You got a tattoo and that new Overwatch figurine you were wanting out of this challenge,” You settled back into your seat with a huff, “I’ve got Jimin’s lightsaber that doesn’t work anymore and a pair of wet socks.”

He continued to beam, cheeks hurting from the stretch of his smile as he rested a wrist on the steering wheel at a stoplight, glancing at you again. “I think you’ll like this last place,” He tried to soothe, careful in not startling you when he touched your thigh to give it a soft squeeze, “It’ll all be worth it.”

“Is it the apartment? Please tell me it’s the apartment.”

Jeongguk laughed, palm on the wheel as he accelerated through the intersection and flicked on the turn signal, “I’ll give you another free hint this round. No, it’s not the apartment.”

He angled the car down the long gravel drive, catching the way you perked in his peripheral at the sound caused by the change in terrain. Carefully, he guided the vehicle into the parking spot directly in front of the door to the building, hands shaking in bubbling anticipation as he turned off the ignition and passed his keys into one palm, gathering his camera off the dash into the other.

“Stay here, I have to go make sure they’re ready for us.”

“Jeon Jeongguk you better not leave me in here by myself.”

“I’ll be no more than thirty seconds. Count. If I’m not back, you can take the blindfold off and come find me.”

There was a visible cheer in Jeongguk’s stride as he bounded up the stairs of the building, nudging his way inside with the camera carefully balanced. 

He’d planned this for weeks, communicating with the staff members on various occasions, confirming fees and applications and waivers and consent for filming. All of which came to a head when three staff members greeted him at the exact same time, only for one to warily confirm, “Jeongguk, right?”

He nodded, sticking out a straight arm for them to shake his hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“She’s all ready for you…” The staff member’s eyes shined gently at the excitement of the man on the other end of their clasped hands, “We’re ready when you are.”

Jeongguk rushed out something about I’ll go get her, be right back, only to dash back out the door with shaky camera work in fear that you’d taken his promise seriously and had ditched the blindfold. You hadn’t, and he found you the same way he’d left you, still pouting but slightly curious in the way you tilted your head and then jerked it when he opened your door. 

“Do I hear dogs barking?” Was the first thing you asked, curious in expression but tight in the way you gripped his hands that aided you out of the car. 

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.” Jeongguk muttered something to you about there being stairs, easing you across them and then underneath his arm as he held open the front door for you. 

Cupped hands on your shoulders situated you in the center of the lobby area and he could no longer contain any fraction of the giddy grin that overtook the entirety of your features as slowly the pieces began to fall together for you. 

“Can I guess yet?”

Jeongguk directed the camera at you as the staff member from before came out from one of the back rooms cradling a golden ball of fur with a neat red bow perched on top of its head. “Go ahead, babe.”

“The animal shelter? Wait!—” You turned in the general direction of his voice to correct, “—specifically the animal shelter we visited a few weeks ago. The one on the other end of the city…”

He traded possessions with the staff member, letting them takeover his camera while he delicately adjusted the puppy in his grasp, moving to stand directly in front of you. “Okay,” He said, “You can take the blindfold off.”

You were tentative in crooking your fingers underneath the bandanna, tugging upward in short, gradual spurts until it was hanging limply off the end of your index finger. You blinked, bleary for the first few seconds of adjusting to the light, adjusting to your surroundings, adjusting to what was standing directly in front of you. 

“I was right…” You trailed off, squinting at Jeongguk while some of the staff members began to laugh among themselves. Your pointed gaze shifted to the puppy in his arms.

Dumbly, you said, “That’s a dog.”

Jeongguk just grinned while the laughter of the staff grew a bit louder, “Mhm. Your dog.”

You stumbled on the words my dog? as they came off your tongue, accepting the puppy when Jeongguk placed her in your arms. You held her close, disbelief still evident even as your heart began to roar in your ears and you nuzzled into the puppy’s soft fur with your nose. 

“I…” You squinted at him this time to dispel some of the involuntary tears that had gathered in your water line but rather than them disappearing, they began gentle tracks down the slope of your nose, “You adopted her?”

“Technically we adopted her,” He subconsciously reached for your face, thumb brushing away the tears as they came, “Yes. She’s ours now.”

You mumbled something about not fair and something jumbled about what his last location was supposed to be and how it didn’t even matter and didn’t compare anyway before silent tears began to fall more freely, tucking your chin into your chest as you hugged the puppy a bit closer. Jeongguk motioned to the staff member with his camera and they cut the direction of the lens to the floor, a fond smile on their lips as they gave him an encouraging thumbs up and began to step aside with the other people who’d appeared to watch the scene unfold. He wrapped an arm around your waist and behind your shoulders, coaxing you into his embrace with more soft laughter. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeongguk’s lips touched your wet cheek, holding you gently as you nuzzled into his sweater, “Do you like her?”

A noise of affirmation rumbled softly in your chest as you adjusted the dog in your grip, peering down at her as her tiny pink tongue came to stretch for your cheek. It only made you cry and smile harder, something Jeongguk laughed unabashedly at as he settled his chin on your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” You murmured, leaning your cheek against his. 

“Alright,” His voice shifted back into vlogging mode once you’d settled back into the car, the puppy in your lap and wrapped up in a slew of blankets you hadn���t registered Jeongguk packing into the backseat before you’d taken off on your filming adventure. He tilted the shot toward you, “So have you figured out that the challenge was just a lie to get you here?”

“You made me step in a pond for a puppy?” Your attention directed to the puppy who placed a tiny paw on your chest and stretched to lick toward your chin again. “Honestly? Worth it.”

Jeongguk grinned, stretching the camera again until it sat on the dash to capture both of your figures beyond the steering wheel. “Glad to hear it,” He leaned over the middle console, “and what do you think, little girl?”

She turned her attention from trying to lick you to successfully licking Jeongguk, planting a series of fat stripes of his scrunched nose until he pulled away. 

“You think that means she’s cool with becoming a member of our little family?”

The question made you unwillingly emotional as tears began to well over in your vision, blurring the way Jeongguk panicked and leaned closer again to plant his lips on yours before fishing for his camera. 

“I think that’s it for this video. No, before you ask, we don’t have a name yet... All the links for the animal shelter will be in the description if you’d like to check them out and please do check them out, there are so many animals in shelters who need homes…”

“And other than that?” Jeongguk glanced over his shoulder to where you were cooing quietly at the puppy, heart inflating then seizing in his throat and the onslaught of tears still visible on your cheeks began to seep over into his own being.

“I guess my girls and I will see you in the next video…”

[minghaos-pet]

sucker punch (1/?)

eventual smut

group: ateez

member: fighter!jongho

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, language, sexual suggestion, drug use, fear???

“Can you not drive any smoother?” Jongho groaned beside you, clutching his side and wincing each time you drove over a bump or pothole.

“I’m trying my best,” you glared at him for a short while, “it’s not my fault the roads are fucked up.”

“You could at least try to avoid them,” he spat, “I’m fucking dying in your passenger seat.”

“No you’re not,” you clenched your jaw trying to look as steely as possible, but deep down you had to admit you were a little worried he actually was dying in the seat next to you.

“Fuck,” Jongho cursed amidst a sharp exhale as the road beneath you turned from pocked asphalt to straight gravel and sand. The car bounced violently along and your face was practically pressed against the windshield trying to see the road in front of you enough to avoid rocks.

“I need to turn the lights on,” you reached for the knob when his hand shot out in protest, “I can’t see a goddamn thing on the road, Jongho.” All he could do in response was whine, too agonized and exhausted to form words. Regardless of his lack-of-response, you didn’t turn the lights on, knowing that if you did your chances of being stopped by any stray cops would raise tenfold. An injured-Jongho was one thing to deal with, having someone dig through your car in the middle of the night was another. “Are we--”

“Stop the car,” he interrupted and swung the door open as you slammed on the brakes, practically throwing yourself across his lap to prevent him from rolling out of the car as he vomited outside the open door. After a minute or two he righted himself, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and pulled the door closed.

“You good?” You looked at him with (mostly fake) disgust.

“Fuck you,” he smiled weakly as you pressed on the gas, “I think I ruptured my spleen.”

You bit your lip and kept silent, continuing to drive the last couple miles to your destination. A ruptured spleen, or any other medical malady that could bring Jongho practically to his knees hurling onto a dirt road was far from good. You knew the medic you were visiting could fix up some lacerations, a broken rib or two, but something more internally damaging was out of the question as far as you were concerned. “Jongho…” your voice was quiet and riddled with anxiety, you looked over at him, his forehead drenched in sweat, lip split, and bloody knuckled pressed tightly against his right side, “should I take you to a hospital?”

In the darkness you could see his eyes soften as much as they could, “I’m fine, baby,” you could hear the effort he was making to hide the pain in his voice, “I’m just being a bitch, is all.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and refocused on the road, scared that if you tried to speak your voice would crack. Your relationship with Jongho was complicated, and definitely not one that either of you filled with emotions. You found him a year ago when he needed a manager, someone to allocate his earnings and pay-off his debts, patch up any injuries, someone to fuck if the occasion called for it. For 13 months you’d done exactly that, he paid you relatively handsomely (but you always snuck a little extra cash if you could) and it got you out of the depressive post-grad hole you’d been trapped in. It was mutualism at its finest.

When you pulled up to the house the lights outside were off. They were supposed to be on. You parked the car in the driveway and watched Jongho swing the door open and struggle greatly to exit the vehicle, if the circumstances weren’t as pressing you might have laughed at him and thought it was cute. “Do you need help?” You asked.

“No, y/n, I can exit a fucking car on my own,” you watched him struggle for a few more seconds before he turned to you pouting, “...yes, please.”

You sighed and slammed your door behind you, walking around the front of the car to Jongho; “where can I not touch?” 

“Avoid my entire right side if you can, and my shoulder’s a little rough too, but not as bad.” You wrapped your arm around his back and under his shoulder as gently as you could, preparing for his weight as you helped him slide out of the car, “you might have to help me walk too,” he said sheepishly as you did your best to close the door behind you and lock the car.

“Anything for you,” you rolled your eyes and sarcastically smiled at him, hoping he was smiling back in the dark. When you reached the door of the mobile home you knocked quietly, not wanting to wake up any neighborhood dogs. You were about to knock again when the porch light flickered on and the door opened slowly. “You’re late. I thought you died along the way,” the gruff man in front of you said to Jongho, ignoring your presence entirely...not that you were complaining; it was better to be invisible in situations like this.

“Yeah,” Jongho shot you a glance and in the yellow light you could see the blood caked on his cheekbone, “she can’t fucking drive, I guess.” You transferred Jongho to the man in front of you, relieved to let your shoulders and back have a break. The house was small and poorly decorated. A box of medical supplies set on a dining room table next to a glass of water and a picture of an old 1970s grandma. Jongho collapsed into the pulled-out chair and you helped him take off his shirt while the other man washed his hands. “So what’s wrong with you this time? You look like shit.” He asked from the kitchen. “I think I have a broken or bruised rib and maybe a ruptured spleen,” Jongho kicked his shoes off under the table, “but nothing too serious other than that. Might need to pop my shoulder back in though.”

“Can’t do anything for a ruptured spleen,” he responded, “needa go to the hospital for that one or you’ll bleed out internally in a day or so.”

You gulped, feeling the anxiety raise in your body once more. You stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, disappearing nicely into the ugly floral wallpaper. You could have sworn Jongho’s eyes flicked up to you, but you weren’t completely sure.

“Well then,” Jongho placed his hand on the table, “I’m sure there’s no ruptured spleen here.”

“If you get nauseous or pass out you should be worried.”

The doctor--could you call him a doctor?--stitched up Jongho’s face and looked at his side, pushing slightly on the purple flesh as Jongho’s face screwed in pain. Surprisingly, he was quiet though, a glaring contrast to the whiny, annoying mess you drove for an hour and a half through the dark. You wrung your hands, wondering if you should tell the doctor more details about what happened; surely it would allow Jongho to get the care he needed, even if it wasn’t pertaining to his bruised ribs or cut up face. “Um,” you squeaked from the corner and cleared your throat to speak clearly, “he did throw up on the way here...could that be a spleen-thing?”

Jongho looked up at you and gave you a look that told you you should have kept your mouth shut.

“Next time don’t bring your mouthy girl,” the doctor glared at you for an instant, “I don’t like people telling me how to do my job.”

“Not my girl,” Jongho said flatly, “woulda left the bitch at home anyway if I could move without feeling like I was gonna keel over dead.” He looked at you while he said it, his voice monotonous but his eyes apologetic. You crossed your arms over your chest, you knew he didn’t mean it, but it still didn’t feel good to be disrespected like that.

“What’s her name?” The doctor asked Jongho and looked you up and down more thoroughly.

“Don’t--”

“It’s y/n,” you cut him off, receiving the harshest warning look from Jongho. He shook his head slightly, but you didn’t pick up on it. The doctor pushed his chair back and stood up, walking slowly towards you while you sunk further into the wall, Jongho went to move as well, but his condition left him glued to the chair.

“How much?” He asked Jongho, but his focus maintained on you, his eyes sweeping over your face.

“Not for sale.” You could hear the resentment drip from Jongho’s tongue. A twisted part of you wished you could see through the man and watch Jongho get angrier, the way his fists balled up and his jaw set.

“Then get out of my fucking house,” the doctor backed away from you and made his way back to Jongho.

“W-what?” You were confused and a little frightened, even though you knew better.

“Get out of my fucking house,” he repeated, “unless you having something to offer me I’m not in the mood for guests.”

“Just wait outside, y/n,” Jongho said exasperatedly, “I’ll be done soon.”

You gave him one last look before crossing to the door, dragging your feet over the threshold and onto the small porch. Moths fluttered around the porch light and you could hear insects in the trees behind the road, you sighed deeply as you squatted down, your back against the laminate siding of the mobile home. You reached into your coat pocket for your phone before remembering you left it in the car...the locked car. The key to which was on the dining room table of a man who kicked you out of his house to sit outside alone in the cold. “I’ll never hear the end of this,” you said quietly to whatever creatures were listening in the dark. You should have gone in with no questions asked, no words spoken and stood against the wall quiet until everything was done, but why should you have? You weren’t Jongho’s girlfriend, you weren’t some naive teenager, you were his manager. In technical terms, you were the one in charge, not Jongho, not the sleazy, illegitimate doctor. You contented yourself on the porch for the next few minutes, fuming and running over the various ways you would chew Jongho out when you got in the car in just a few minutes; until the light shut off.

You weren’t sure if it was automatic or if the doctor shut it off purposefully, but regardless of the intent or lack-thereof you were in the dark. Sitting on a strange man’s front porch in a backroads neighborhood with no car keys and no phone. “It’s okay,” you whispered to yourself in reassurance, planting your butt on the ground and pulling your knees to your chest, “it’s already been like fifteen minutes,” you wrapped your arms around your knees. Fuck, it was cold. “Jongho’s probably already done and he’s just talking shit with the doctor.” You could see your breath now that it was dark, the grey clouds of condensation hanging in the air momentarily every time you spoke. You hummed to yourself to keep track of time, going through songs you remembered one by one until seven had passed. “Jongho…” you whined quietly in the dark, “it’s been over twenty minutes, just leave already.” Another seven songs, another twenty minutes. Your heart began to race slightly, blood pressure rising as you wondered why you couldn’t hear anyone talking inside while your brain conjured up countless horrible theories that involved one or both of them being dead. Should you stand up and knock on the door? Should you go inside? You wrapped your arms tighter around your knees, knowing that if you went inside and something had happened to Jongho there would be no way for you to defend yourself. If anything, your best bet was to wait outside until morning and find someone to break into the car, or maybe someone from another house nearby would help you. Your breathing slowed a bit, anxiety evening out as you formulated a plan just in case what you feared came to fruition. You sat there like that for another few minutes, running over new plans and courses of action; managing the situation, even though you usually handled other peoples’ affairs. You were mid brain wrack when the porch light clicked back on and you heard footsteps towards the door, and you unfolded yourself from your position and stood up, preparing yourself to run until you heard Jongho’s voice from the other side of the door.

“There you are,” Jongho hobbled out of the doorway smiling, obviously feeling much better than he had before, “I was getting a little lonely in there without you nagging me every 30 seconds.”

“I just gave him some oxy,” the doctor said to you, pushing Jongho out of the door towards you, “there’s more in his coat to take later, he’s gonna need it.”

“Thanks,” you forced yourself to say, not wanting anything to do with the man who kicked you out of his house in the middle of January, “did he pay you already?”

“Don’t give him anymore,” Jongho put his hand on your shoulder, steadying himself on his feet, “the motherfucker already cheated me out of everything I had.”

“The Blues are gonna kick in soon,” the doctor ignored him and backed up back into his house, “get him in the car before you have to drag him.” The door closed behind you and the light shut off once more, affirming your earlier suspicions that he had deliberately left you in the dark.

Jongho shuffled down the steps and through the dark to the car, head lolling onto your shoulder as you neared the passenger side, “keys?” You lifted your arm to get him upright again.

“In my pocket,” he mumbled, “my arms are asleep.” You reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a handful of assorted pills, but no keys. You sighed and shoved your hand into the front pocket of his jeans, and wrapped your hand around your pepperspay keychain. Almost instantly he shot away from you, eyes wide, “damn, y/n, can’t it wait until we’re in the car? Fuck.”

You scoffed, “here I was thinking it was perfectly acceptable to grab your dick in the middle of this bumfuck neighborhood,” you pretended to aim the pepperspray at his face and lightly smacked his butt, “I’ll just settle for this I guess.”

Giggling, Jongho’s hand came down heavily with your lower back, sending you jolting forward, you pulled the door open for him and rubbed your back with the other, knowing it would bruise, “you missed, you fucking asshole,” you muttered and shoved him into the car.

“I can’t help it baby, I’m high as shit right now.” The drive to Jongho’s apartment was peaceful, primarily because he was knocked out the entire hour and a half. By the time you pulled into a parking space you could see the sunrise peeking through the dark; you unbuckled your seatbelt and rested your head on the steering-wheel, glad to finally have a break. You turned your head to face Jongho who was still asleep, his mouth formed into a pout and his head slumped forward to rest on his chest. Regardless of the narcotics he’d taken, you knew he was exhausted. Normally a fight night ended with him walking home from the gym after splitting the money and you driving safe, comfortable, and a little bit richer to your apartment. You reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out the ziplock bag of cash, you loved this--even if it wasn’t all your money--but the thrill of being able to hold a few hundred (or sometimes a few thousand) dollars every few nights was indescribable.

“Jongho,” you poked his cheek, hoping he’d wake up easily, “Jonghoooo,” you poked him harder, not wanting to have to carry him up the stairs of his apartment.

“Mmmmwhat,” he hummed and peeled his eyelids open.

“We’re at your apartment,” you tucked the money into your coat pocket and reached over to unbuckle his seatbelt, “wake up so you can go to sleep in a real bed.”

Jongho groaned once more in protest, but didn’t press the issue any further, even in his altered state. You were not above leaving him to sleep peacefully on the curb outside his apartment building, and he knew that. You had your arm wrapped around his back once more, but it was mainly to make him feel more emotionally secure as you both stumbled tiredly up the stairs; if he legitimately started to fall backwards there was no way you’d be able to catch him--break his fall, maybe, but you’d rather one of you be seriously injured than both of you.

When you reached his door you punched the code and practically pushed him inside, he uttered some sort of complaint about you knowing his lock-code, but you were too exhausted to open your ears to him anymore.

Arms hanging loosely at his side, he beelined straight to his bed, collapsing onto it with nothing more than a slight squeak of discomfort. You sat on his bed next to him, leaning over to take his shoes off, “you can’t get in bed with shoes on, Jongie,” you smiled at the nickname, knowing that if he was in his right mind he would have thrown a fit hearing you call him that, “that’s gross.” After tossing his shoes out of the room and into the hall, you worked on the rest of his clothes; his shirt was soaked with sweat and some blood, and you cringed at the thought that he had so willingly gotten into bed in them. You made a mental note to remind him to wash his sheets in the morning.

“Take yours off too,” he mumbled and grinned to himself while you pulled on the hem of his shirt, “it’s not fair that I get to be the only naked one in this house right now.”

[heartbeatan]

Damned Royalty (Chapter 14)

Return to Chapter 14.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Desperado Series.

Return to Jimin Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 14

You sat in your car outside the restaurant and watched as the clock ticked another minute passed. You were supposed to meet him at seven o’clock but arrived fifteen minutes early. Problem now was it was quarter after seven and you still hadn’t willed yourself to get out of the car.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?” your driver called back to you.

“Huh? Oh… yes. I just need a minute.”

Apparently, you needed another five. You hadn’t been this nervous in a long time. You wished you knew what he wanted so you could prepare what you had to say to him. Hell… you wished you knew what you wanted. A few days ago, you thought you did. You thought you were done with him, but the moment you heard his voice again over the phone, you felt your resolve crumble.

You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly – then finally reached for the door handle.

 

“Welcome to Pierre Marseille, Ms. Y/N,” you were greeted at the entrance by the strikingly beautiful hostess. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see your name on the reservation list tonight,” she was so apologetic as she began flipping through her guest list.

“Oh, no, Ishani,” you raised your hands apologetically. “I’m meeting someone tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Is there a Mr. Park here?”

You noticed for only a moment how her eyes widened when you said his name – but she corrected her expression immediately with a smile.

“He is. He’s waiting for you in the back,” she stuck out her hand and gestured for you to follow her.

Of all the places in the city he could have taken you – he decided on here. The most luxurious, most expensive fine dining in the city. You would have been happy to meet him in a coffee shop to talk instead – but he insisted on here. Perhaps a display of his wealth. Perhaps to sway you. Or, perhaps he was just more pretentious than you knew him to be.

Ishani led you toward the private dining areas, stopping in front of a door.

“He’s in here,” she smiled. “Enjoy your evening.”

You thanked her and she turned and walked away. You brushed your hair with your hands then pulled your shoulders backwards, straightening your posture, then opened the door and stepped inside.

He was there, his back turned to you as he gazed out over the river and the city skyline. You caught each other’s gaze through the reflection in the glass window.

“You came,” he said as you stepped into the room. He then turned around to face you. In one quick motion, he scanned the length of your figure. You felt a smug satisfaction well up inside you. You had, of course, once again encased your body in a curve hugging, leg exposing dress that you knew would drive him wild.

You opened your mouth to apologize for being late but closed it again – deciding that you didn’t owe him any apologise. You then noticed the table, lit dimly with a centrepiece made of small florals and glass candle holders, placed neatly over a white linen tablecloth. A table set romantically for two. Your heart fluttered at the sight.

He walked over to one chair and pulled it from the table – a gesture for you to take a seat. You didn’t move immediately – for a moment you thought about turning away from him and leaving the room. But – just as you did each time it came to Jimin – something inside you told you to stay.

“You look incredible,” he graveled into your ear as you took your seat.

“I know,” you replied matter-of-factly. You made sure you looked good – why try to hide it?

He took his seat across from you, unbuttoning his suit as he did, keeping his gaze trained on you the whole time. You ignored it, setting your purse aside and shuffling to get your chair just right.

“I was afraid you weren’t going to come,” he spoke once he was settled.

“There was a pretty big chance that I wasn’t going to.”

“And yet you did. Why?”

“Don’t start with me now, Jimin. You’ve been pestering me for days. You know exactly why I came. So how about we just cut to the chase and you tell me why you needed to see me so badly?”

He looked frustrated by your bluntness and your resistance to his previously successful methods of getting under your skin. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bring you a bolt of self-righteous joy.

Jimin opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the door to the room bursted open.

“Ms. Y/N!” in burst a man in a white chef’s jacket.

“Pierre,” you smiled brightly and stood up to greet the man. He embraced you, kissing you on each cheek.

“I just heard you were here, and I insisted I had to come out to see you,” he took your hands in his.

“It’s so lovely to see you – it’s been a while. How have you been.”

“Busy, busy. As always of course. But it’s good busy. I’ve been working on the new menu.”

“Really? Anything I should be on the lookout for?”

“But of course. In fact, while you’re here tonight – how about I’ll give you an exclusive taste of what’s to come?”

“Oh, that would be fantastic, Pierre!” your eyes darted for a moment to Jimin – a moment long enough to catch the confused and soured look on his face.

“Excellent. Excellent. No menu’s for you then tonight – I’ll be sure to feed you well!”

“Thank-you so much!”

“And who do we have here?” Pierre awed as he turned to Jimin. “You’re not Jinhyun.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. Pierre was so blunt, and you could tell Jimin was none to happy to be compared to your ex-boyfriend. But, nonetheless, he pulled together something that resembled a smile, stood up and shook Pierre’s hand.

“Jimin,” he said. “Park Jimin.”

“Well, Mr. Park. Welcome to Pierre Marseille. I am Pierre Marseille. I hope you have lovely evening.” Pierre turned back to you one last time. “I must be going, love, but please, enjoy the evening. On me.”

“Thank-you so much,” you smiled back. With another goodbye peck to each cheek, Pierre ordered the sommelier to bring you an expensive bottle of Chablis before he returned to the kitchen.

After your wine glasses were filled, you found yourself alone once again, staring uncomfortably back at Jimin. He took a sip of his wine, looked up to you and sighed.

“I take it you’ve been here before?” he asked. You almost laughed at how comical his disappointment was. He must’ve though he was wining and dining you into some new luxury experience – he clearly forgot who you were.

“A few times,” you unsuccessfully hid your smile behind your glass. He watched you as you did, flipping his butter knife between his fingers as he thought. He had lost control already and was trying to figure out his next move.

“Why did you send all of my gifts back?”

“Because I don’t need gifts from you, Jimin. I can buy my own things.”

“That defeats the purpose of a gift.”

You shrugged. “I’ll have the painting returned on Monday.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I want you to have it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to think of me each time you look at it.”

“Who says I want to remember some guy I slept with once?”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll sleep with this guy again,” he leaned up from his chair and rested his elbows on the table. “And again.”

“I told you already, I don’t want someone to just have sex with…” you began but he cut you off.

“I know, I know,” he raised his hand in a calming motion. He seemed as if he had more to say, so you waited for him to continue. But as you waited, you watched him. You watched his shoulders tense. You watched him sigh and look away from you to glance at some obscure corner of the room. He was uncomfortable with whatever it was he had on his mind. Then finally, he collected himself. “I… I don’t just want sex either.”

“What is it that you want, then?”

“I want… poker. And pool. Dinners,” he spoke slowly. “I want you in my apartment. And I want to buy you nice things.”

You swallowed hard to fight down the butterflies that had begun flapping rapidly through your chest. This was what you wanted to hear from him – and you were finally hearing it. But there were still so many questions and so much uncertainty that you kept your composure – not letting him wear you down so quickly.

“So… you wanna date me?”

“I suppose that’s what people call it,” he brushed his hand uneasily through his hair.

“That is what people call it, Jimin,” you replied curtly. “Why is that so hard for you to say?”

“Because,” he snapped back. “I’m waiting for you to say no. I know you have no reason to want that with me.”

Your heart sank for him, and your guilt flared. He was afraid of being rejected by you – and he wasn’t wrong to be afraid. You had spent your entire time together listing the many, many reasons why he was no good for you. Why you should leave him. Why he was beneath you. And even now, after everything, you still weren’t sure you could give him the assurance he needed.

“Listen,” he sighed again. “I don’t do this. I don’t… date. On top of that, I know I’m not the kind of person you should want, and I know that there is so much better for you out there than me. But… for fucks sakes… I want you anyway.”

Just then, a knock came to the door and in walked two servers with a trolley of gourmet dishes. The timing couldn’t be any worse – or any better depending on how you looked at it. Jimin sat tightly wound in his chair, his jaw clenched as he waited for the staff to complete their duties and go. You were afraid even that he might snap at them to get the fuck out – but he didn’t, thankfully.

“Pierre is going to come by later,” said the one server. “He wanted your feedback.”

“Yes, of course,” you smiled graciously as they left the room. You looked back to Jimin, who was once again twirling the butter knife in his hand as he stared you down.

“Can we talk about this after?” you said as you pulled the napkin apart and spread it across your lap. “Let’s just have a nice meal for now.”

He looked for a moment as if he was going to protest, but instead, he nodded and picked up his fork and his knife.

“Mmmm,” you hummed as you took the first bite of your scallops. “These are delicious. Have you tried them yet?”

“No. I’ve got the duck.”

“Oh, and how’s it?”

“It’s pretty good,” he began cutting a piece off the end. “But I could make one better,” he cocked his eyebrow at you and playfully smirked. You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at his ridiculous assumption. “Here,” he lifted his fork towards your mouth, offering to feed you a bite. You looked at him unsurely for a moment, but with a gentle nod from him, you leaned in and wrapped your mouth around his fork.

“Mmm, that is good.”

“Can I try yours?”

“Of course,” you sliced him up a piece. When you offered it up to him, he wrapped his fingers gentle around your wrist, holding your hand in place as he brought your fork to his lips.

“I like that one better,” he smiled.

The rest of dinner carried on much like this – only better. Feeding each other. Teasing each other. Flirting with each other. Jimin talking about the foods he would make for you one day. You, talking about the restaurants you had to take him to. It was easy to forget you two had any differences at all. Forget you hadn’t seen him in over a week. Forget you had stormed out of his apartment. Forget what he had said to you. Forget the things you had said to yourself. This was how you wanted it to be between you two. Easy. Fun. Romantic. But you knew deep down that no matter what you felt for him or what he felt for you – easy was not in the cards for you two.

When dinner was over and the restaurant was closing, Pierre returned to your room and took a seat at the table to enjoy a glass of wine of his own. Jimin was in much higher spirits and didn’t seem to mind the intrusion. In fact, he seemed to light up when he and Pierre got into the differences of how to best to prepare salmon. You dreaded the end of the evening, and the return to a harsh reality.

You never finished the conversation you had paused. Instead, Jimin placed his hand to the small of your back and led you towards the elevator. You let him. When in the elevator, you felt him reach down and intertwine his fingers between yours, holding your hand firmly in his. You let him do that too. Then finally, you reached the curb and you were standing in front of his car looking at each other.

You thought he was going to kiss you – a big part of you wanted him too – but instead, he dipped his head down, closed his eyes and brought his forehead to yours.

“Come home with me, please,” he whispered.

“Jimin, I…”

“Please,” he interrupted you. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk – and you can make a decision.”

“I have made a decision.”

He pulled back from you so he could watch you as you spoke. You could immediately see how he was bracing himself for the worse scenario.

“Look at us, Jimin. We aren’t even together – but it’s already been so hard.”

“I know - but let me fix it. I can fix it,” he pleaded with you.

“You can’t fix it. Our worlds clash. Whatever happens between us – it’s never going to get easy.”

His jaw clenched, and he darted his eyes away from your face – hiding his disappointment. “You’re right.”

“But… I want to try anyway.”

[monstersandmaw]

Embers - male dragon shifter x reader) Part Two (sfw)

(this is supposed to be going up every Friday, but I was a dumbo yesterday and forgot, so here it is, a day late and with my apologies!)

Here's Chapter Two for you, in which we find out our dragon shifter’s name (pronunciation at the end if you’re curious). And Frankie speaks with a heavy Welsh accent.

I was trying to keep each chapter to under 1000 words, but that didn't work out so well for this one. It's nearly 2000 words. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

A phone call from a number you didn’t recognise interrupted your quiet Friday evening, and you answered with some trepidation. Usually it was marketing calls at this hour, and nothing was guaranteed to make you lose your shit quicker than someone phoning up to sell you double glazing or, even worse, to try and scam you out of your life savings.

This time, however, a bright and bubbly voice with a lilting accent asked, “Hiya, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, but you gave my friend your number in the hopes of finding a flute teacher?”

“Oh my god!” you blurted, nearly dropping the phone. “Yes! I didn’t think he’d actually pass it on. Thanks for calling.”

The laugh that trilled out of the person on the other end was more like a bleating giggle, and it was then that you remembered that the teacher was a faun. “No problem! My name is Frankie, by the way, and I’ve actually got space to take on a new pupil at the moment. If I got it straight it’s your niece?”

“Yeah, she’s six.”

“Ok, if you could maybe tell me a bit about her and what level she’s at, that might help me plan a bit, but we could set up a trial lesson - free of charge - and go from there?”

“Perfect. As for her level, she’s brand new. She’s wanted to play the flute for a long time, but she’s only six and my brother couldn’t really afford lessons until now.” As a single father, a widower, your brother did his absolute best for his little girl, and with no kids of your own, you stepped in to help quite a lot. “She’s bright and a quick learner, though she’s not particularly verbal. She’s always been drawn to music though; I think it’s a half-siren thing…”

“Yeah, that’ll be it!” he chuckled. “As long as she’s going to listen to me, that’s a good place to start from; I don’t need her to recite the Trollbridge Common Dictionary as well. I teach up at Mikaeïl’s house - he lets me use the music room free of charge.”

You frowned in confusion. “Mikaeïl?”

“The red-headed, starched-shirt-wearing, giant nerd-bag you met in the coffee shop,” he grinned and you snorted your tea nearly out of your nose.

“Oh my god.”

“Right? I mean, Kaeïl is an absolute marshmallow on the inside, I promise, but he comes across as a complete arsehole, doesn’t he? Anyway, back to the flute lessons. You let me know some dates when she’ll be free to come over, I’ll give you the address, and we can see how we get along. Texting is better for me as I’m usually teaching during the day.”

“Sounds good,” you said, and began to arrange the rest with Frankie.

Afterwards you did a quick internet search and found him easily enough. He was apparently well known, both as a teacher and a soloist, and he and the quintet did a number of local concerts too. You couldn’t resist zooming in on a few photos which also had Mikaeïl in. God, he had amazing bone structure, but he definitely had one severe case of resting bitch-face for sure. He wasn’t smiling in any of the photos and he looked severe, and untouchable as a hot coal.

Satisfied that Frankie was the genuine article, you called your brother and fixed a date to take her to the address Frankie had given you.

The next Friday, you picked Celia up from school while her dad took the night shift at work. The hours weren’t great, but it meant he got slightly better pay. Plus it meant that you got to have Celia for the night, and that was always fun. She was intelligent and creative, if quiet, and after dinner the two of you usually watched a film together or read if she didn’t feel like watching anything. You knew she missed her siren mother dearly, and her death had almost destroyed your brother. You and he were all the family she had now; her own grandparents had wanted nothing to do with a half-breed human.

You found Mikaeïl’s place easily enough, and as the enormous gates swung open for you, drove your rather shoddy car along the mile-long gravel driveway through gorgeous parkland and up to a frankly ridiculous mansion on the outskirts of Old Trollbridge. You barely restrained yourself from cursing out loud. The place was insanely beautiful.

Celia had her hands pressed up against the car windows, mouth open. “My teacher lives here?” she asked.

“It’s the house of his friend,” you said, trying to sound unfazed and unaffected by the grandeur. Mikaeïl must be a very wealthy person indeed.

You parked up outside and Celia hopped out, piercing eyes gazing up at the warm, sandstone facade of the building with its many sash windows and ornate architectural details. Her dusky brown wings - small for a siren her age, but then again she was only half-siren - were flexed slightly, as though she planned on flapping up to get a closer look at the carvings above the door, but you took her hand before the thought got any further, and led her to the front door, her brand new flute in your other hand.

It took a while for someone to come to the door, but when it was answered, you were surprised to find that it wasn’t some servant or butler in fancy livery, but it was Mikaeïl himself. You recognised him instantly, and he looked at you from behind his circular, gold-rimmed glasses with the same, piercing gold eyes. Despite the colour, they were cold and unsmiling. Beside him, in complete contrast in every way, stood a very short, slightly stocky figure with the white, woolly lower half of a satyr. He wore a thick, dark green, knitted jumper despite the warmth of the day, and he had massively thick, curling horns that coiled around his ovine ears. His curly hair was cut relatively short, and matched his white legs in colour.

He extended a hand to you as Mikaeïl stepped back silently and disappeared into the shadows, and he bleated, “Hi! I’m Frankie. And you must be Celia,” he added, turning his dark eyes to her. “Nice to meet you. Would you like to come in?”

She nodded shyly, and you ushered her inside in front of you. Frankie’s big cloven hooves clopped loudly on the marble entrance hall, and Celia gasped as she took in the beautiful, sweeping staircase that curled up the cylindrical walls of the drum-like entrance hall that was capped with a coffered dome.

“It’s quite something, isn't it?” Frankie said conspiratorially to her, and she nodded again. “Come on, let me show you guys the music room. It’s got the loveliest piano. This way.”

Mikaeïl had all but vanished.

Nattering constantly, Frankie led you away down a light, airy corridor with gold and cream silk wall hangings and 18th century landscape paintings on one side and a gallery of windows overlooking the gravel driveway on the other, and into an equally beautiful space. Somehow, despite the obvious wealth, the music room was tasteful and bizarrely modest. Yes, that was an original Steinway, and yes, there was a crystal chandelier - relatively small, but still - in the centre of the moulded-plaster ceiling, but the huge windows looked out onto a private terrace and parkland beyond, and it had the feeling of a well-used, well-loved, functional room.

Celia was utterly entranced. Her wide eyes took it all in and you stood there dumbstruck as well.

Eventually, however, you both got over it, and Frankie brought over a very ordinary, metal music stand and parked his behind on the piano stool with a grunt. “Right,” he grinned and she giggled slightly. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He pulled out his own flute from its case and showed her how to align the sections of her own correctly.

You sat at one side of the room, but you realised quickly that Celia kept looking over to you before she spoke, so you said, “Celia, I think you might learn better if I wait outside. How would that be?”

She nodded and you knew her well enough to see that she wasn’t worried, and Frankie shot you a smile and a nod. “We’ll be about another half an hour,” he said quietly.

With that, you left, and wandered up the corridor and back into the entrance hall.

You took your time in the corridor, admiring the paintings, and you were just looking up at the ceiling of the entrance hall again, marvelling at the artistry of the whole thing, when someone cleared their throat pointedly from the doorway to your left and you jumped.

“Can I help you?”

It was Mikaeïl. He was dressed in a smart shirt, with a black waistcoat and black trousers today, and his long red hair was tied back in a smooth ponytail that fell halfway down his back. His horns glinted in the low light, looking more like strangely-carved precious gems, flecked with gold, than keratin, and his eyes reflected oddly, like cat’s eyes in the dark.

“I…” you faltered. “I thought it best if I left them to it…” you said stupidly. He seemed to have the effect of draining your IQ to zero with just one look.

“So you took the liberty of roaming the halls of my home instead?” he said in a cold drawl.

“I… I’m not poking around,” you countered hotly, finding your words coming back to you. “I’ve only walked along the corridor!”

A tiny smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Would you like something to drink?”

His polite question caught you off guard, and you gave him a blank look. “I thought you were going to have your gamekeeper shoot me for trespassing…” you said dryly.

Mikaeïl barked a harsh but amused laugh, the rigid lines of his body softening just a fraction. “Not yet at least,” he said and turned his back on you.

Assuming you were meant to follow, you did. 

Part Three

—

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It’s pronounced ‘mick-eye-ill’ :)

[trillian-anders]

chambers - vi

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 3892

Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

Well, this was awkward. 

Peggy sat across from you, a gorgeous off the shoulder red dress, red painted lips, hair curled perfectly. Lipstick stained the rim of her wine glass. “Relax,” She soothed, her hand coming to place gently over yours. Her nails were red lacquered, perfectly manicured. “You look like you’re waiting for the floor to drop from beneath you.” She humored. 

“I think in some ways I am,” You smiled at her. You almost couldn’t believe you were even here. You’d come back to almost the minute you’d gone into the ice. A separate timeline. A new future. You looked around the room, other couples just as cozy and close. It was a romantic italian place, pianist playing softly in the corner. 

This was your first date with Peggy. Steve’s first date with Peggy. The plates in front of you were soon picked at and consumed, the woman across from you with her eyes twinkling made your heart skip in your chest. She was just as beautiful as you remembered. This aching hole being filled by her soft touch. Her hand in yours as you slowly danced to the pianist’s lilting melody. 

“I’ve been without you,” You could hear yourself say, “Longer then I would have ever liked to be.” Her dark brown eyes smiling up at you. 

“I love you, Steven.” You smiled, pressing your lips to her forehead, before resting your head on top of hers,

“I love you too.”

It only made sense that you would have that memory now, sitting here in a little cafe in Brooklyn, sweater sleeves curled over your fingers as you tried to warm them from the cold. Fall was here and it swept through the city quickly, the leaves were almost fully changed you’d noticed on the drive in. A few stragglers still holding their green hue while others have submit to their lifecycle. 

“You could hardly even call this coffee,” Eric joked as he settled into the chair in front of you, “You have a sweet tooth?” He smiled as he took a sip of what looked like black coffee. You smiled back, wrapping your cold fingers around the mug of your milky sweet coffee taking a testing sip. Almost perfect. 

“Not usually,” you admit, “For whatever reason I just really like my coffee being sweet.” You shrug, “It’s how my grandmother always took hers.” He was handsome, just like you remembered. Dimpled cheeks, very white teeth, his smile was infectious and made you warm all over. 

“So, how’ve you been?” He asked, leaning forward, your mugs and hands almost touching. Today was VA day, a week had passed since you’d last seen him and you told Sam and Bucky that you were going to head into the city early to grab coffee with Eric before heading over. 

Sam was quick to give a teasing flirtatious grin, whereas Bucky wasn’t too keen on the idea. “I’ll go with you,” He offered. He was obviously irritated when you’d told him no. 

“I’ve been alright,” You took a sip of your coffee before continuing, “Been taking a break from the testing and everything.” You’d explained you Eric briefly over text about complications that came with heart surgery, but you didn’t tell him what those complications were. 

“It must be strange, huh?” He glanced out the window and then back at you, “Living with heroes like that.” You shrug absentmindedly. 

“They’re just like everyone else,” You laugh, “but they’re really nice people,” Eric nods, “They’re a fun crowd.”

“I bet.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “So you work for the Avengers?” He asked, picking at the muffin he’d bought. It was probably best to lie here, 

“Yeah, I just assist Dr. Banner in his lab,” You lie, “I have no idea what he’s doing half the time, but he likes the company. What about you?” The motor oil around his nail beds, 

“I’m a mechanic now, my Pops had his own shop that I took over after—“ he choked up a bit, “After I blipped back.” You placed your hand gently over his, 

“Hey, it’s okay.” You smiled, “You don’t have to hide that kind of stuff from me.” Rubbing your thumb against his rough hand you continued, “Everyone still hurts from the blip. Everyone.” He nodded, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Thank you.” He sighed heavily, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry and make this awkward—“

“I don’t feel awkward.” You offered, watching a smile break out on his face. “Listen, I’m not sure if I’m ready to date yet either. This was kind of like—“

“Dipping your toe in the water?” He asked, god he was cute. 

“Yes.” You laughed. “So don’t feel pressured about it. Really.” He nodded, beginning again, 

“Anyway, I’m a mechanic.” He laughed nervously clearing his throat, “I live here in Brooklyn, I have my entire life aside from when I was doing my tours.” He’d done two of them. He spends most of his week working under the hood and the rest of it was spent going to the VA, visiting his sick Mother who was now in hospice. He was just a normal guy. 

A handsome, sweet, opened the door for you as you left, normal guy. It was nice. 

He didn’t make a big deal about your heart. The fact that you just had surgery, which was also nice. It seemed to be the only thing people wanted to talk about when they found out you’d had a heart transplant, not having to talk about it and skirt around knowing the name of the donor like you had to with everyone else. 

He’d bought both of you coffee to-go, “The stuff they have down at the VA is kind of trash.” He laughed, the two of you walking to the community center where your cars were parked. It was a Wednesday afternoon, the sun was shining, your sweater becoming a poor choice now that it reached the days highest temp. 

You’d been a block or two away when it happened. 

The fight or flight kicks in before they even made themselves aware, Eric was grabbed before you were, you watched a fist meet his face, blood spattering on the ground as you screamed in alarm. Hands met your arms and Steve took over, twisting around to turn his wrists, smacking your head against his, causing your ears to ring and vision blur momentarily as he fell to the ground unconscious. 

Another man, twice your weight and at least a foot taller than you grabs you roughly, shoving you to the ground, grabbing your foot and dragging you into the alley where Eric was pinned against the wall, punches raining on his gut, “Let her go!” He yelled, trying to break free. 

You kicked your handler in the groin, the large man grunting in pain as he curled over, grabbing himself as you jumped up from your spot on the ground, your hands had gravel embedded in them, beginning to bleed. 

You raise your fists, back against the wall facing the large man as he straightened back up. “Give up kid,” He grunts, “Just come with us.” You ball your fist tightly, turning to swing on him, but your fist fell through the air, the man being ripped away from you, throwing you off balance to fall on the ground. 

Bucky.

And Sam. The two men who were pummeling Eric were soon disbanded, one taking off out of the alley and onto the street, the other unconscious, Sam’s hand fisted in his shirt. You crawled on your knees, over to Eric pushing his chest against the wall, helping him sit upright from where he collapsed on the ground. 

“Bucky!” You yelled. The super soldier had the large man in a headlock, his eyes slowly closing and the hand that beat against his metal arm slowing until it stopped. “Bucky…” You felt your vision begin to blur as you fell backward, head hitting heavily against the concrete.

“Stay down kid.” The greaser spat. You could taste the blood in your mouth, the concrete beneath your hands as you pushed yourself back up, stumbling on your feet. “You’re either a fuckin’ idiot or you just wanna die kid.” He raised his fists back up. 

“I don’t like bullies,” came from your mouth, and you remembered. This guy was being fresh with a girl. In the diner where you were having lunch and sketching. He wouldn’t leave her alone. “Especially not perverts who don’t understand what ‘no’ means.” The guy rolled his eyes at you taking a quick swing that connected with your jaw, tossing you back on the ground. You groaned in pain, trying to get back up. 

There was a scuffle and when you looked up, Bucky was in boxing stance in front of you, landing a right hook on the jaw of the greaser, throwing him back into the wall before the guy took off leaving the two of you with your heavy breathing. 

An asthma attack was coming on. “Alright big guy,” Bucky’s hands met your arms, pulling you off the ground. “Breathe, Stevie.” Bucky matched your breaths with his, pulling a little jar from his pocket. He popped the lid and held it under your face. Peppermint oil. You could feel it, cold down your airways, his soothing breaths matching yours until you were calm. 

“Hey Buck.” His hair was slicked back, he was wearing his work uniform. He must’ve just come from the canary. He rolled his eyes at you before wrapping an arm under your shoulder to help you walk home. 

“You can’t keep doing this Steve.” Dabbing alcohol on your bleeding lip and fists. “One day you’re not gonna get back up.” Throat tight with emotion. You felt guilty. Every time. But you couldn’t help it. You can’t just stand by and do nothing. It just wasn’t who you were. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft against your ear. You shifted in his arms. You were in his arms, turning your head, wincing at the sunlight coming through the car windows you quickly covered your eyes with your arm. 

“Bucky.” You whined, head pounding. 

“I’m here doll.” Fingers moving soothingly against your back. He was whispering to you. You could feel you were in the back seat of the car, it was moving quickly. You felt nauseous. 

“I’m gonna be sick.” You groaned, he shifted you up slowly, sitting you upright in the back seat. 

“You definitely have a concussion.” Your eyes were squeezed shut as you heard him move around. 

“How’s she doing back there?” Sam’s voice came from the front seat. So he was driving. 

“Where’s Eric?” You asked as Bucky pressed his cold hand to the back of your neck. It felt so good. You placed your hand over it to keep it there. 

“We had medical take him back to the compound,” Bucky explained, “Where does it hurt?” 

You opened your palms and he could see the gravel embedded in them, knuckles split and bleeding from the fall. “Just my hands and head.” You couldn’t open your eyes. It hurt.

“We’re almost home,” Sam said from the front, “I’m gonna go check on the perps and see how Eric is doing. Buck, you think you can take care of her?” 

“Yeah, I got her.”

He’d lowered the blinds and threw a bandanna over the lamp next to your bed, creating an easy light for you to manage, finally being able to relax your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours. The chair next to your bed was wordlessly pulled close as he laid out a pair of tweezers, rubbing alcohol and some bandages. A little dish was there to collect the pulled gravel. 

“It’s almost like you’ve done this before,” You joked. Wincing as he pulled the first piece out. He scoffed, continuing on in his work. 

“I didn’t want you to go alone.” His gruff voice replied, “I told you I’d go with you.” You sucked your teeth as he pulled out a particularly large piece. 

“To be fair, you thought Eric was the threat.” He looked at you through his lashes. 

“I still don’t like the guy.”  You hummed in response. “You know this means you can’t leave the compound by yourself anymore?” He gently dabbed your hands with the rubbing alcohol, before spreading a cream on them. 

“What could they possibly want with me?” You asked, “Who even are they?” He, with great care, wrapped your hands. 

“We don’t know,” He admitted, “Could be Hydra,” He shrugged, “Could be something else. We’re going to interview the two guys we captured, so I’m sure we will know pretty soon. Here,” He put two pills in your hand and a glass of water, “Take these and lay down.” He shifted the blankets around, slapping his hand against the pillows as he helped you get comfortable. 

“Don’t leave me.” Your wrapped hand gently gripped his. His other hand lay over yours, 

“I’m gonna be right back sweetheart.” Sleep was coming on quickly, “Get some rest. I’ll be back.” His hand softly slipped from yours and you slipped into sleep. “Sweetheart?” Bucky mumbled to himself. 

Bucky looked at you for a moment longer, lingering, before exiting the room. Face turning into a scowl he quickly took the elevator down, meeting Sam right outside of the interrogation rooms where they had the two perps cuffed in separate rooms, letting them stew. “They didn’t have cyanide capsules, so I don’t believe they’re Hydra.” Sam was staring at the monitors, arms crossed. 

“How’s the guy?” Bucky asked, Sam’s eyes shifted over to his quickly before turning back to the screens.

“He’s got some internal, but he’ll be fine… This isn’t your fault Buck.” Hand coming to rest on his shoulder, Sam turned to him. 

“No,” He growled, “It’s yours.” Shrugging his arm off him, “I wanted to tail them Sam. If you’d let me be there--”

“No.” Sam shook his head, “People still would have gotten hurt or these assholes wouldn’t have come out of the woodwork. Either way, you can’t tail her to go get coffee just because you think that dude is a shady guy for no other reason than your ‘intuition’.” 

“My intuition has never been wrong before,” Bucky leaned in, looking at the monitors. “No one knows she’s got Steve’s heart Sam. Even if they did, they don’t know what it’s doing to her. So what’s going on here. Why do they want her?” 

“I don’t know man.” Sam looked at his friend in concern. “You’re getting better with her.” Bucky nodded, chest tight. 

“I’m trying.” He cleared his throat, looking over at Sam. “I feel guilty.”

“You should.” Sam smirked, “So who's gonna be good cop and who’s gonna be bad cop, cause I was thinkin’ it’s my turn to be bad cop.” Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping his jacket from his shoulders and rolling up his sleeves. 

“If I don’t get to hit at least one of ‘em I’m gonna hit you instead.” 

Wanda sat steadfast next to the sleeping man, fingers itching to do it. To look inside his mind. She had to know. Bucky was clear about how much he didn’t like this guy and she trusted Bucky. She can look, just take a quick peek. It would give her all the information she needed to make a sound decision on whether or not to trust him. 

A red tendril spilled over her palm, crawling down her fingers to slip into his temple. 

It was chaos. 

Screaming, blood. A nightmare. The fear, the anger. The loss. It felt so familiar. Like she’s seen this before, but she doesn’t know where. 

She sat back in her seat heavily, panting. The stress and anguish. Her heart was racing. She found no ill intention, but an immense attraction to you. She found exactly what you’d described. A man who had seen war, who had lost everything, she saw his mind as it was. Nothing to be hidden. So why did she feel so uneasy?

“Lock them up for the night.” Bucky instructed to the two agents standing guard outside the interrogation room. “Make sure they’re at opposite ends of the cells, we’ll be back to deal with them in the morning.” The two young cadets nodded, a ‘yes, sir’ and they were off to their task. 

“We’ll work on them tomorrow,” Sam looked at his watch. “Go check on Y/N, maybe get her to eat something.” Bucky nodded, hands on his hips. 

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.” The pair watched the two criminals be taken to their cells and locked in for the night before leaving, 

“There’s gotta be a leak.” Sam agreed. “I’ll call Clint.” Bucky hummed in agreement before walking away, deep in thought. 

“We should maybe reach out to Peter too.” He said as the two entered the elevator. “Have him keep an ear out when he’s patrolling.” 

You were right where he left you, the dim light giving a soft illumination to the room. He walked over to your side of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face before squatting to your eye level. 

“Hey Y/N,” He spoke softly, gently rousing you from sleep. His advanced eyesight scanned your pupils as your sleepy eyelids parted. 

“Bucky.” You whimpered, head throbbing. 

“I’m right here kid.” What was he doing? Fingers gently massaging your scalp stilled and awkwardly removed themselves. “Here, take these.” He helped you sit up, giving you two more of the tablets you’d taken earlier, following them with the stale water from your bedside. “Are you nauseous?” 

“No.” You croaked, sinking back into the pillows. “I’m sleepy.” Your throat felt thick and palms were itchy. 

“Alright, I’ll be right here okay?” The shuffling of the chair as he sat down heavily. He gave you one last look as you drifted off, 

“Okay.” Mumbled against the sheets. 

He pulled out his phone drafting a text to send to Peter Parker, 

suspicious activity in Brooklyn, focus patrol. all suspicious persons bring to compound. 

With a tap it was sent and he settled down deeply in the chair, fatigue hitting him for the first time in two days. “Peppermint oil.” Mumbled against the sheets, drool forming by your lips. “That’s sweet, the peppermint oil.” He watched you shift around until you were laying on your back, arm tossed over your head, one across your belly. His heart tight in his chest. 

It helped with asthma. The peppermint oil. A ventilation inhaler didn’t exist for another twenty years. Bucky made due. He kept it in his pocket everywhere he went in those days. Just in case. The thought made your heart sing, but it wasn’t your heart. It was Steve’s. 

It made Steve’s heart sing. 

He was sure to wake you up periodically, making you drink water, giving you more medicine, before sinking back into the chair next to your bed. Your own private watchman. If you weren’t hurting so badly you’d be enjoying the company, just because it was Bucky and the attachment Steve had to him, that was then passed down to you, was sated by it. 

The next morning it was as though nothing had happened, when it came to your injuries anyway. Your head was clear, hands had no mark when Bucky went to change your bandages. 

“How are you?” Wanda asked, pulling you into her arms.

“I’m fine,” You smiled, you looked to your right through the glass window where Eric was resting, “How is he?” 

She swallowed heavily, “He’ll survive.” She looked you in your eyes, oddly. “He’s been in and out throughout the night, he’ll need to stay for a few days but should be good to go by Monday.” You worried your lip,

“I owe him an explanation,” You sighed, “I feel terrible.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” Wanda defended, hand soothingly rubbing your arm. “We had no clue that someone was targeting you.” She seemed angry, “Nothing on our radar.” 

“Who is doing this?” You asked, looking up at your friend. She shrugged, 

“I’m going to go join them in the interrogation.” She said, “See if I can find out. Do you need anything?” You shook your head, eyes staring blankly at Eric’s sleeping form. She left. 

The door handle was freezing when you put your hand on it, turning to enter. A chair was set next to the bed, one that you sunk yourself down into. It was quiet in here, the slow melodic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound. 

His jaw was a mix of black and blue, a swollen eye, his right hand was bandaged where he had tried to fight back against his two assailants and failed. Guilt churned in your gut. Maybe you should have let Bucky come with you after all. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone. Then Eric wouldn’t be lying here with a morphine drip 12 hours out of surgery. 

“No self pity on my watch,” A groan from the bed, his split lip coming in a half smile. Your watery eyes met his. 

“I’m so sorry Eric I-”

“Hey,” His fingers twitched, hand moving dismissively, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from--” He groaned, shifting in the bed. You leaned forward, taking the bed’s remote and using it to sit him upright. He winced. 

“It’s not your job to protect me,” You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m sorry we were attacked. They were after me. It honestly--” You felt a fat tear roll down your cheek, “It is my fault.” 

The man in the bed studied you for a moment, “Did you tell them where we were?” He asked, “Did you tell them to attack us?” His bruised mouth never faltering in a smile. “You had no control over this.” 

“Still, I’m--”

“I know.” He smacked his dry lips, reaching a hand over for the water cup on his tray. You’d quickly grabbed it, bringing the straw to his lips. “So,” He rested his head back on the pillow, “Are you gonna tell me what’s really going on here?” He gestured vaguely to the tip of the thin pink scar that was peeking out from under your t shirt. 

You owed him an explanation. He’d taken an ass beating for you, it was the least you could do. 

-

A chill went down Bucky’s spine as Wanda told him the name of who was responsible. She knew the name in passing, an issue she’d never had a problem with. Something that happened adjacently to her, but she knew the name enough to know the man was dangerous. 

The trio thought to the couple sitting in the medic ward, Eric recovering from internal bleeding and you, who was still trying to figure out what was going on with your body, your heart. What would he want with you? What did he think he could possibly do with you? And also who was relaying this information to him? 

Sam put on his Captain voice, chest tight, shoulders back. There was tension there, and a lot of it. 

“Call Sharon Carter,” He commanded, “Tell her to come to the compound with all the information she can find on Helmut Zemo.”

Bucky thinks he’s going to be sick. 

.

.

.

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[the-fiction-witch]

Wait What?

REAL LIFE

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING SWEET AF

I smiled as I stood Infront of my mirror drying and sorting out my hair so I looked presentable as I did my phone went off.

Y/n <3 :

Just doing my make up should be ready soon

"Ahh fuck" I said out loud

Thomas:

Okay Hun, on my way

Even if I lied fixing my hair and grabbing my clothes knowing she'll get worried if I'm late I made sure I looked good and went down grabbing my keys

"Ahh!! Fuck! Fuck shit! Almost forgot" I said almost slapping my fucking self for being so dump, running back upstairs and digging thought my bedside draw desperate to find what the hell I did with it, grabbing the little blue velvet box opening it to make sure it was still in there, seeing the light twinkle in the rows of diamonds in the beautiful gold.

I shut it back up hiding it in my pocket and going down locking up and getting in my car.

I began the drive over to y/n's parents place, she had gone for the weekend just mostly to spend some time with her family but I used it as the perfect excuse to have her out the house so I could get ready.

I've wanted to propose to y/n honestly since I met her, but it never quite seemed right and then once we moved in together it was kinda a nightmare to plan in anyway without the suprise getting ruined.

But luckily she went away all weekend, the house empty, free to walk around the shops on my own so I could sort it all out, and it so happily fell on our anniversary.

I had been looking for about the last year for a ring and I found a little shop not to far away that had a nice one, I didn't care what it cost it was for y/n after all. So I reserved it a few months ago while we where out shopping and she conveniently went for a wonder in lush on her own, and I picked it up yesterday then booked us a nice dinner the same place I took her on our first real date, so I headed over to pick her up and I pulled up at her family house and as soon as I shut the car off and got out she opened the door in her perfect purple dress her make up and hair done so perfect she looked like a beautiful painting from a thousand years ago I felt so happy to see her I almost ran over hugging her tightly

"Whoa... Hi Thomas" she laughs giving me a little cuddle to

"You look so beautiful" I told her kissing her head "I missed you so bad"

"Aww thank you Tommy, I missed you too" she smiled pulling away and giving my lips a tiny kiss "come on Mr else we'll be late" she warns heading to the car I smiled widely and got into the car with her starting to drive off often resting my hand in her leg as I drove "so why exactly are we going so fancy?" She asks

"Well it's our anniversary" I laughed

"Thomas I'd have thought by now you'd have known I'd rather just cuddle up on the sofa with some popcorn and pizza watching breaking bad or something" she explained

"I know... But sometimes it's fun to be fancy" I smiled as we got to the restaurant and I parked up "umm I love you so much" I smiled giving her a kiss

"Aww I love you too, what's going on?" She asks

"What why do you ask?" I asked in panic had I given it away that early?

"Your being very... Affectionate today Thomas, and very lovey dovey" she explained "I'm not used to you being like this" she explained as she got out and I followed her

"Maybe I just really missed you?" I suggest

"I was gone two days Thomas" she laughs

"Well maybe I just want to show my love for you a little more" I shrug

"Alright, but I'm watching you Sangster" she warns as she headed inside.

We sat to dinner at the same table we had our first date laughing and talking about everything and nothing as we had dinner I couldn't help smiling as I looked at her as we waited for dessert while she had some wine I got the box out of my pocket fiddling with it trying to find a step in the conversation to maybe get onto the topic, or somehow get into that idea

I really should have planned this more.

I have to lead into it don't I?

I can't really just shove the box on the table and just pop the question.

"Sally? Will you marry me?" A voice asked from across the restaurant we both looked and saw another couple on a date and he was on his knee proposing

Oh thanks dude now I have to follow you!

He probably practiced, Or atleast wrote it down.

"Aww that's so sweet" y/n smiled

"Yeah, really sweet" I smiled trying to not act nervous

"What a beautiful way to propose" she smiled Dam I wasn't watching what he did! Should I have been? Or would that be copying? "Umm don't like the ring thought" she says turning back just as dessert got here

"Oohh what kinda ring was it? I didn't really see?" I asked

"Diamond, I know there a classic and all I just really don't like them" she explained

And I had a heart attack fiddling with the box in my hand containing the diamond ring I had bought

"Wait what?" I asked trying not to cry or scream

"I don't like diamonds, the whole thing is a old marketing campaign, and that's before you even look into the ethics of diamond mining. Plus honestly I just find them boring there just sparkly and white, I can get that from glass" she explained

"So... If someone where to, buy you a diamond ring? You wouldn't like it?"

"I'd like it, hell I'd be engaged they could ask with a haribo ring and I'd be happy" she laughs "but I think I would be a little disappointed, that they would do something special for me" she explained eating her cake "why?" She asks

"Just curious that's all Hun" I said faking a smile putting the little box back in my pocket "so... If let's for theory's sake, I was going to propose? What kinda ring would you want?" I asked

"If you where?" She asks slyly licking her spoon

"If I was" I smiled

"I don't know... Maybe a gem of some kind? Or a rare stone? Ooohh or like an opal I love opals there all so different and interesting" she explained

"Okay" I nodded

"Why are you so curious anyway?" She asks

"I don't know, I like finding out new stuff about you" I smiled.

I yawned sitting up having a stretch rubbing my eyes after being up so late last night, I looked over to the other side of my bed looking at y/n perfectly sleep.

Ummm you where meant to be my finance by now, I sighed looking at my jacket from last night still with that box in my pocket, I was mad at myself

I should have known that, instead I wasted that whole night because I bought the wrong thing. I smiled seeing her sleeping so I gave her some kisses

"Umm... Good morning" she yawns

"Good morning," I smiled kissing her "hun I'm gonna pop out okay? We need milk" I told her

"Okay Thomas" she yawns so I got out of bed and got dressed hiding the box in my pocket and heading downstairs I know she'll be fast asleep again I went to the fridge pouring away some milk so I had an excuse to go buy more. I went out locking the house behind me and hurrying off in my car to the jeweler I bought the ring from.

The second I step thought the door I think she could read my emotions and the fact I had the box in my hand likely gave her a clue why I was there.

"Oh darling, did it not go to well?" She asks

"Not exactly" I told her

"What do you mean?" She asks

"Look it's kinda complicated but long Story short I didn't ask because... She kinda mentioned she didn't like diamonds very much so is there any kind of way I could maybe trade this one in and get a different ring that's not a diamond?" I explain

"Well most if not all engagement rings are diamond" she says

"I know but it doesn't have to be a engagement ring just a ring that's not a diamond" I explain

"Did she say anything she did like?' she asks

"She likes opals" I told her

"Opals? Ahh I think I have something" she says taking my ring box and going into the back a moment before coming out with a luxurious tray of rings all with different sizes, shapes and colours if opals I saw one that caught my eye, a black and blue sort of colours and I think it clicked

"Yeah that one" I told her

"Your sure this time?" She laughs

"Positive" I laughed she checked and it happened to be the same price as the original ring I got so she swapped the ring in my little box and she smiled at me

"Good luck"

"Thanks" I blushed taking it home hiding it in my pocket as I came in and I saw her sat in her pjs watching TV "hi Hun I'm home"

"Hi, did you get milk?" She asks

Fuck! I knew I forgot something

"Uhh no they where out" I told her

"What took you so long then?" She asks

"I was Uhhh driving around looking for milk, can't fine any seriously it's a UK wide milk shortage" I lied

"Okay" she laughs

"Uhh Hun? You wanna go for a walk in the park?" I offer

"Aww okay" she smiled giving me a kiss and running upstairs to put a dress on.

We walked around the park for a while hand in hand chatting about things and looking at the sweet flowers till we stopped in the summer sun perched on a little water fountain people often throw pennies in I looked at her sweet face, hardly any make up her hair a little messy from the breeze, I squeezed her hand and she looked at me

"Hi Tommy" she smiled kissing my cheek

"Hi Hun, look I need to talk to you about something important" I told her and she looked worried "it's nothing bad don't worry" I laughed kissing her nose I kept hold of her hand Moving to kneel on the gravel and grass and she looked confused

"Thomas... What's going on?" She asked

"y/n from the second I saw you I wanted to ask you something, and I knew I couldn't because I literally just met you and it would be really weird. But I never stopped wanting to ask you, sometimes I actually thought you where trying to stop me from asking. But with everything we've been thought together, and having just had our anniversary... I think it's time I finally actually ask you rather then just thinking about it" I told her

"What?" She asked almost in shock as I got the little box from my pocket

"Y/n, your my world, everything I've ever wanted, and I know your just gonna argue it's just a bit of paper or its just a bit if jewelry but...I truly love you, crazy little sinic and all my darling. And if you'll have me? I'd like to be with you for the rest of time"

"Thomas what's-" she began as everyone was clearly now looking at us as it became obvious to everyone else in the park what I was doing

"Y/n, I'm asking you to marry me" I laughed showing her the ring "so?" I asked as she hadn't said anything

"Ohh Thomas of course I will" she smiled hugging me tight I hugged her tighter then I ever had before kissing her soft lips between tears of joy till I pulled away and helped her put the ring on "for the record... I knew" she laughs

"What?" I asked

"I knew you'd been wanting to ask for months," she laughs "I assumed it would have been last night, what did you leave the ring at home or something?"

"Funny story actually Hun"

"Oh?"

"I almost did leave the ring at home but... It was a uhh a diamond engagement ring, and when you said I just felt bad so I traded it for one you would like" I explained

"I still would have said yes Thomas" she laughs

"I know but... Now you have a beautiful ring that you like" I smiled kissing her

"I love you" she smiled

"I love you too" I told her

[sakuwriteshere]

Pretty Little Liar: Chapter 2

General warnings (for the whole story): Fluff, comedy, angst, sexual innuedos, roommates AU, Ketch is a douche

Beta reader: @irebloggbecauseiappreciateyou.

Words count: 4238 words

PLL Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

Chapter 2:

It’s finally time for Y/N to properly meet Dean’s only woman he truly cares about: Baby, aka his car. There’s really something about men and their cars, her own father named his, and the few men she dated did just the same. She has to admit that the black muscle car is a beauty. A piece of collection and Dean does take good care of her, she’s sparkling and still in brand new condition. As she’s sitting down on the passenger seat, Y/N lets her fingers brush against the leather reverently while Dean puts the last of their bags in the trunk. The old car creaks and dips as Dean slides on the driver seat.

“Ready to go, Sweetheart?” Dean asks her in a huff, both hands roaming over the steering wheel. “I thought a pet name would make this thing more realistic.” he justifies himself when she frowns at the nickname.

“Do you prefer something else? Honey? Or Princess, maybe?” He suggests and can’t help himself but chuckles when she’s making a disgusted face with the last suggestion.

‘Princess.’ Y/N never liked that nickname, it sounded… cheesy as hell and now she despises it since it reminds her of one of her ex-boyfriends.

“Sweetheart is good. Let’s just stick with the basics.” She suppresses a shudder as one last memory from her ex crosses her mind, he was such a mistake.

“What do you want me to call you back, then?” The engine roars to life, muffling her voice.

“Babe? Oh wait, I know!” She exclaimed, a mischievous smile widening her face. “Bean!”

It’s Dean’s turn to make a sour face making her laugh heartily. Once her laughter subsided, they both agreed to stick with ‘Babe’. Dean is surprised with how good the nickname sounds in her voice. Shaking his head to focus, he finally drives out from his parking spot.

***

The Winchesters don’t live far from their sons, Dean informs Y/N it’s just a two hours drive which gives them enough time to learn the basics stuff about each other. It starts easily with their favorite colors and type of food, the conversation slowly drifting towards their taste in music, both having a soft spot for classic rock, before they end on more private facts.

“Speaking of which, I don’t really know what you do for a living.” Y/N says while watching the scenery flying through the opened window, the hot air blowing on her face.

“I’m helping my father with the family business,” Dean replies plainly.

“I know that.” Y/N states, giving him a bitchy face. “You own your own garage. It’s just I’ve never seen you coming back from work covered in grease and things like that. Don’t you get dirty when you’re repairing cars?”

Dean shrugs some more, his eyes flicking to her for a second as he licks his bottom lip. He’s not very fond of speaking about his job. Dean loves what he does for a living, he’s even proud of it but people tend to judge him once they really know what his job is.

“I own several businesses, the garage is one of them.” He starts to explain, knowing that he needs to tell her more if he wants to make his parents believe they’re a couple. “The coffee shop you’re working at, I own it too and a few other things.”

“What?” Y/N’s gaze abandons the scenery from outside at the revelation, her eyes fixed on Dean who chooses to keep his eyes on the road. 

“What?” Dean parrots as Y/N is strangely silent.

Slowly, she brings the pieces together, how easy and quick it was for Rachel to accept her days off.

“You ordered her.” She whispers more to herself than anything, but Dean hears her anyway. “You told her to let me leave for the weekend.”

Dean huffs, his body tensing at her accusation. “I own shops, Y/N, not people. I don’t give orders.” Despite the need to keep his eyes on the road, Dean glances at her a few times, searching for her eyes, he needs to show her he’s telling the truth. “I simply asked her to give you whatever you asked if it was possible, that’s it.”

“You’re rich…” She deduces in a whisper, her eyes staring at her lap.

Dean groans at her statement. Here it goes! Every time people learn about his real job, they start to act and treat him differently and Dean hates it.

“We’re healthy, yeah, but it doesn’t define who I am.” His grumpy voice resonating in the car.

It’s Y/N’s turn to be mad at him. Who does he think she is? She’s not going to treat him differently just because she learned he’s her big boss. “I know that. You’re still my neat-freak roommate.” 

Dean cools down at her indignant tone, his tensed shoulders relaxing in the process. “But?” He tries when he feels she has more to say. She lets out a heavy breath, clasping her hands on her lap.

“But...let’s just say I’m not really the type of girl your parents would expect for you.”

The defeated tone she’s using surprises Dean. Among everything else, that’s not what he thought would bother her.

“We’re not really a couple, you know that?” He reminds her, his hands turning the steering wheel as he approaches his parents’ house.

“I’m aware, thank you!” Her face is blushing hard at the reminder. “But I don’t want them to look down on you, even if it’s fake.”

The tires roll over the gravel, meaning they have reached their destination. Dean parks the car in the shadows in a little corner. They’re both silent for a moment, Dean watching her while she’s keeping her eyes on her lap, her knuckles turning white the more she clenches her hands.

“Hey, look at me,” Dean says quietly, his hand wrapping around her tensed fist. The physical contact forcing Y/N to look at him. 

“Yes we’re healthy but it hasn’t always been the case. We don’t forget where we came from. My parents- my whole family is pretty laid back so there’s nothing to fear, alright?” Green eyes searching her own. After a beat, feeling he’s being honest with her, Y/N forces a tiny smile and nods. Dean squeezes her hand one last time before getting out of the car.

Y/N inhales sharply, telling herself that she doesn’t need to prove anything. Dean and her are going to spend the weekend together, pretending they’re madly in love and by Monday everything will be back to normal. Yeah, there’s nothing to feel bad about, it’s going to be easy!

Her mouth slacks open as she gets out of the car, her eyes finally falling over the huge house in front of her. ‘Laidback people’ my ass! She thinks before she notices Mary Winchester appearing behind the opened vibrant red main door. The blond woman waves happily at them while Dean fetches their bags in the trunk.

“Alright, Sweetheart. Ready to shine?” Dean announces, one hand holding the bags the other one intertwined with Y/N’s one.

“Not even a bit.” Y/N replies between clenched teeth, a huge smile plastered over her face as they walked towards the main entrance.

As soon as they have climbed up the three little steps, Mary engulfs them in a bear hug.

“Dean. Y/N. It’s so good to see you. How was the drive?” Mary’s genuine intrigue can be heard in her voice. Her eyes drift between Y/N and her son, a hand pressed over her heart as she smiles at them. “ Sorry. Sorry.” Mary chuckles when she senses the awkward tension around them. “You look so cute together.”

Guilt creeps through Y/N’s veins. Mary is really happy for her son and doesn’t suspect the fraud, not even for a second. Is Y/N ready to lie right in front of her face? Maybe it’s better to tell Mary the truth before the lie escalates some more?

“Come in, please. You must be thirsty, it's really hot today. Dean, sweety, can you leave your bags in your old room?” Y/N’s trail of thoughts is broken as Mary pushes her into the house.

Y/N’s looking at him with dread and Dean gives her an apologetic smile as he climbs up the stairs leading to the second floor, where the bedrooms are, while she’s escorted by the Winchester’s matriarch into the living room. She wasn’t expecting to be on her own the minute right after they got in.

Fortunately, two familiar faces greet her as they enter the living room. Sam Winchester, Dean’s little brother, and Jessica Moore, his girlfriend, are already there. Y/N had met them a few times already, Sam and Dean being particularly close.

“Y/N?” The shock on Sam’s face is obvious as he recognizes the newcomer.

“Sam. Jessica. It’s so nice to see you again.” Y/N greets, easily accepting Jessica’s hug. It’s good to have something familiar with her, something to keep her nerves on track.

“You’ve already met?” Mary asks, a bit surprised that her youngest son didn’t mention Dean’s new girlfriend before.

“Yeah,” Sam confirms, giving Y/N a light hug as well. “Y/N and Dean are roommates.”

Panic raises within Y/N, Sam knows nothing about the lie, she needs to think about something to say and quickly.

“Dean and I weren’t a thing yet the last time we’ve met.” Y/N tells Mary, a shy smile on her lips, and doing everything she could to ignore Sam and Jessica’s questioning looks.

Looking everywhere to find a distraction, something white and fluffy catches Y/N attention. The awkwardness she was feeling a few seconds before flying out through the window as she spots the cute little puppy on the couch behind Jessica.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s high pitched voice catches everyone’s attention as she walks towards the couch. “Hello there.”

Kneeling in front of the couch, she watches the Samoyed puppy rustling with the plaid cover wrapped around its tiny body. Her heart melts when she hears the puppy’s tiny barks.

“Aaaww look at you. You’re so cute.” Y/N says in a baby voice. Jessica kneeling next to her, using the same kind of voice.

“We found her on our way here. Went to the vet but it seems like no one claimed her, yet.” Jessica explains, one slender finger stroking the top of the puppy’s head.

“Does she have a name?” Jessica shakes her head no at Y/N question. “She needs a name. Oh, I know! Snowball! Because you just look like a cute, tiny snowball. Yes, you are.” Y/N proposes while stroking the newfound Snowball’s tiny belly. Every time an animal crosses her path, Y/N is a goner.

“Why do people speak with a baby voice when they’re in front of a puppy?” Sam asks his mother, a smile covering his lips when Jessica’s wonderful laughter rings in his ears.

“That’s because we can’t help it,” Mary replies with a baby voice, joining the girls near the couch, welcoming Snowball into the family.

As Sam rolls his eyes, feeling suddenly lonely he spots Dean coming in, his older brother looking down at the strange scene in front of him.

“What’s that thing?” He asks Sam, pointing his index finger at the little white bundle on the couch.

“Apparently it’s Snowball.” Sam sighs, knowing that Jessica didn’t forget what the vet said. If within two weeks no one has claimed the dog, they have the right to keep it. Seems like Sam just got a new dog. “Can I talk to you a second, Dean?” Sam’s lips forming a thin line as he forces a smile.

The two men leave the living room, moving into the main hall for a bit of privacy.

“Since when you and Y/N are dating?” Sam’s quick to ask the question that his mind was burning to ask.

“Er... a couple of months?” When he had picked Y/N as his fake girlfriend, Dean had totally forgotten about the fact Sam knew her already. He just needs to make up another lie, nothing too hard.

“And you didn’t tell me because…?”

“Because it’s none of your business.” Dean groans, not liking his little brother’s interrogation. Sam doesn’t bulge and Dean knows he has to say something more to convince him.

“I… I think this is it. She’s the one, Sam. And-and I don’t want to blow up whatever we have so I preferred to keep it a secret for a while, to go slow, you know?” Dean doesn’t mean any word at all, it’s just an act but he knows he’s little brother is a real sucker for that kind of romantic crap.

“Dean...I-I don’t know what to say.” Sam’s voice sounds apologetic enough to let Dean think he said the right things. The look Sam’s giving him is making Dean a bit uncomfortable, it’s been a long time since Dean had seen that glint in his little brother’s eyes, it’s a mix between joy and pride.

“I would say we’ve all found our perfect missing part, boys.” A deep, throaty voice booms behind them as strong hands tap their backs, startling them in the process.

John Winchester pushes his boys slightly so they can see what’s going on in the living room. From their spot under the doorframe, the three men watch the women kneeling around the puppy and gushing over it in pure wonder.

“Look at them,” John’s voice is softer now, as if he’s scared of disturbing the beautiful scenery in front of him. “They’re getting along so well, as if they have known each other for years. I’m proud of you boys.”

Getting a compliment from their father is like winning the jackpot at the lottery. John Winchester is a good father, he did his best to raise his sons while building an empire for their future, making sure they would never lack anything ever again. But he’s also a reserved man, very demanding, especially with his two sons, so whenever John compliments them, they know he means it.

A particular delightful sound breaks Dean from his giddy state. A sound as clear as crystal and soft as silk to Dean’s ears, Y/N’s laughing heartily as Snowball licks her nose. For a moment Dean’s looking at her like it was the first time, the way she throws her head back as she laughs, her face so opened and free from doubt and shame, her eyes full of life as they’re shining with mirth. He has never seen her like that, she’s always been a discreet and nice roommate until now, and Dean surprises himself with thinking how he wouldn't mind hearing her laughter more from now on. Y/N really blends in his family, it’s so easy that it scares him.

***

After some long arguments about Snowball and a promise that the dog would still be here later, Dean finally convinced Y/N to retreat in his bedroom, the room they could let their guard down a bit during the weekend. Behind the closed door, they don’t need to pretend they’re madly in love and after the disturbing revelation Dean had earlier, he needs some time to relax. They have a few hours to kill before they need to get back to fake dating.

“Can we have a dog?” Y/N asks, unzipping her bag in the bathroom, her voice loud enough for Dean to hear.

“We’re not having a dog, Y/N,” Dean says in a strained voice as he lays across his bed, thumb and index finger massaging his tired eyes.

“But why?” She whines coming back into the room, a brush clutches into her hand and pouting at him even though he’s not looking at her.

“Because I don’t really like dogs.” He lies, hopeful it would end the argument right away.

Y/N’s speechless, her mouth hangs open as shock is written all over her face. “Dean Winchester, I’m fake breaking up with you right now! There’s no way I’ll love a man who doesn’t like dogs, even if it’s fake love.”

“I’ll think about it.” Dean sighs, knowing that it’s easier to lie than to keep on arguing with her. It seems to work because nothing comes back at him and lifting his head slightly in her direction, Dean sees the satisfied smile over her lips, making him smile back without knowing.

“So about the bed arrangement…” Y/N starts to speak, her voice suddenly unsure about what they previously agreed on. “I know we were ok with sharing a bed but I wasn’t thinking it would be so small.” She voices her concerns, eyeing the bed warily.

“It’s just for sleeping, I think two grown-up adults can fit inside without anything happening.” He chuckles before adding “It’s not like I haven’t seen you in your pajamas, already.”

A loud gasp makes him lose his playful smile and he watches Y/N rushing back into the bathroom, all of her clothes flying around her.

“No, no, no.” She exclaims and when the last piece of clothes is out from the bag, a long whine comes out from her throat.

“What now?” Dean asks, being prepared for the worst.

“I forgot my pajamas.” Her eyes shut tight, slapping her face in her mind at her stupidity. “That’s why you don’t pack a bag the night before your departure, Dean! It’s the best way to forget something.” She turns towards Dean, pointing an accusing finger at him but the later doesn't see her as he’s busy shuffling into his dresser.

“Well, I packed this morning and didn’t forget anything. Take these, I think it’s your size.” Throwing an old t-shirt from when he was younger, Dean looks at Y/N’s blushing face as a soft ‘thank you’ falls out of her lips and realizes that the girl he knew, back at the apartment, was still here.

She has a strange persona, really. Most of the time she’s quiet and keeps to herself, but Dean had seen her earlier, smiling and laughing genuinely.

“What?” She asks him in a whisper, her gaze cast down as she clutches the t-shirt against her chest.

“You seem different,” Dean answers her without thinking, lost in his own thinking. Hearing himself, he knows his words can hurt her, so he’s quick to add “A good different. I don’t know it’s kind of...refreshing.”

Her grip around the material loosen, her fingers now playing with the grey tee-shirt and she shrugs, her gaze still fixed on her bare feet.

“It’s just...Your family is nice, I feel free to be truly myself.” Her voice is no lower than a whisper.

Using the same kind of tone as her, Dean has to ask, her words hurting him in a way. “You’re not at ease in our apartment?”

“Yes of course!” She’s quick to answer him, her eyes zeroing on him, a determined glint burning in them. She doesn’t want him to think he’s making her uncomfortable, because Dean has truly been a nice man, she’s very lucky to have him as her roommate.

“It’s just since...I don’t know even myself so how can I explain it to you?” Her shoulders slump, defeated because she truly doesn’t know why she can’t let herself be most of the time.

Dean nods at that, knowing it’s more complicated than what it seems and they’re not going to talk about it here. Instead, he’ll use the weekend to let her enjoy herself, and maybe she’ll trust him enough to stay that way even when they will be back at the apartment. Dean hadn’t realized until now, how much he didn’t pay attention to the little details. When he thinks about it, they barely see each other, except in the morning during breakfast and at night before they go to bed in their own room after a quick dinner. 

The weekend just gets more interesting as Dean promises himself he’s going to learn more about his roommate: Y/N  Y/L/N.

***

Later in the evening, the whole family is reunited around the table which is overflowed with delicious meals. Mary outdid herself once again, as she did every time her little family was gathered. As the years go, the family is getting bigger and bigger, and Mary can’t be more grateful for that. Lovingly she grabs John’s hand that rests on her right, intertwining their fingers as she watches her sons discreetly.

Sam and Jessica are chatting playfully, Sam’s being as smooth as possible as he feeds Snowball under the table from time to time. Y/N’s scolding Dean for his bad manners, the later not in a position to argue back as his mouth is full. She then shares a look with her husband, thanking him for giving her this family, John doesn’t need to speak to convey his own happiness. After 40 years of being together, you don’t need words to speak with the one you love. Mary only hopes that her sons will be as lucky as she is.

***

Groaning, Dean lets his body fall heavily on his bed. It's been a while since he ate this much, but he couldn’t help it, his mother is the best cook in the world. Rubbing his stomach, Dean eyed the slice of pie waiting for him on the bedside table. He ate more than the half already but Mary made his favorite, how could he not eat all of it? It’s a crime in his books, so he brought another slice sneakily into his room. There’s always room left for pie. Always.

The bathroom door opened, revealing Y/N in only Dean’s old tee-shirt. As expected, it was her size, the material large around her shoulders and covering her modesty perfectly. The faded logo of Led Zeppelin adorning her chest, Dean sits straighter in his bed, thinking how good she looks in his clothes.

“The bathroom is free.” Y/N’s offer not reaching his ears as he zones out. It takes several tries calling his name before Dean comes back to his senses, blinking twice.

“Are you alright?” She giggles and Dean feels sick in his stomach.

“Y-yeah.” He clears his throat and jumps from the bed, striding towards the bathroom. “I think I ate too much.” He mutters before closing the door behind him.

“Shocker.” She breathes, shaking her head. She told him he was eating too much, but did he listen to her? Noooo. As she lays down on her side of the bed, Y/N prays that he won’t puke on her during the night. The day has been so eventful and exciting that she’s out like a light.

In the bathroom, Dean’s looking back at his own reflection, hands clutched around the ceramic bowl. That is surely it, he ate too much, what else could it be? His brain is right, it’s just a stomach bug, nothing else. So why is his heart beating faster than usual? And more importantly, why is his nether regions telling him the exact opposite of his brain?

He has to admit, she looks very good in his t-shirt. And Dean is just a man, he loves the ladies, so of course he’s attracted when he can get a glimpse of skin. He can picture perfectly from the view he just had a few seconds earlier, how her thighs seemed smooth, her bare legs slightly covered with his tee-shirt. Great, now he has a boner! There’s no way he’s going to slide next to her with a boner, what will she think of him?

“Shower.” Dean orders to his own reflection, nodding at himself. He can take care of it in the shower, it wouldn’t be the first time he blew up some steam in the shower.

***

As the door creaks open, Dean’s glad the bedroom is plunged into darkness, meaning Y/N is already asleep. He wouldn’t feel at ease to look at her while he slides into the bed next to her. Carefully, Dean crawls on his side of his bed and finally lets go of his breath he’s holding once he’s securely laying down. She’s facing him, sleeping on her side, her hands tucked under her chin and against her chest. Dean is scolding himself, stopping his stupid brain to think about another part of her anatomy. The handjob he just had into the shower is already enough. 

Rubbing a hand over his face as he thinks about it: he just masturbated thinking about his roommate. Y/N! How fucked his mind is? This is wrong. Granted, it’s not the first time he’s fantasizing about her but usually she’s not sleeping right next to him. A rustling sound next to him breaks his trail of thoughts and Dean watches with horror, Y/N arms sneaking over his torso, the rest of her body following and getting closer. She sighs happily as her head rests over his arms, preventing him from moving. What happened to the one rule they agreed on ‘having each other's personal space?’ God, she smells good. Why does she have to smell good on top of that? And why does her body fits perfectly against his?

“Awesome.” Dean mouths ironically.

Pour Toujours tags:  @drakelover78​​​​​, @akshi8278​​

PLL tags: @eliwinchester99​​, @paiswhite​​, @vicmc624​​, @metalfangirl