#i had to drive so i was left alone with my thoughts so hence

[breadandblankets]

ya know, if Duke can see in the UV spectrum he basically has permanent black light vision which means he can See Your Sins

[minkkumaz]

KISSING IN CARS

you thought breaking up with felix was the hardest thing you've ever done. what was even harder was thinking about a future without him. but second chances won't leave you alone.

PIERCE THE VEIL series

PAIRING lee felix x gn!reader WC 1.3k TAGS exes to lovers trope. mutual pining. angst. fluff. right person wrong time, until it's the right time again. kissing. OMI NOTE this is my first time writing for felix and i'm quivering in my boots idk however i hope that it pleases the audience.

the stupid lego venom keychain that was deserted on your marble countertops was a constant reminder that felix was no longer yours. everything about him was right, but you both were too young, and he had such a gorgeous world in store for him.

reminiscing about waking up next to him in the morning came often. it was the first time you had properly seen love in front of you. tracing the freckles littered on his face, waiting for the deep brown of his eyes to welcome you in the morning.

he was beautiful, so fucking beautiful. each strand of hair falling perfectly against his fair skin, tickling your face whenever you got too close. the feeling of his breath against your lips, warning you before he would close the gap.

then, you thought there was faith in your love. you both were equally as hopeful that things would work out. but when it didn’t, it only made you more aware that while he was the best person for you, it wasn’t the right time.

cards never played out in your favor, hence why you still sat with a broken heart months, almost a year later. 

moving on was proved impossible when his face was plastered on every billboard imaginable. the fond smile he never lost as he stood amongst seven other men. you’d be lying if you said that some of his songs weren’t on loop for you, it made everything seem so much more real.

it wasn’t much of therapy, but more or less a desperate plea to not forget about him or his voice. but how could you? 

their discography played from your cheap earbuds as you left the house for the first time in maybe a week. your fridge was seemingly getting emptier and emptier, so you figured it was about time you went grocery shopping. 

the sound of your shoes against the concrete echoed around you. you took a quick walk down to the parking structure of your apartment building, drowning out any other noise. when your car finally came into view, there was a familiar one parked right next to you.

at first, you didn’t give it much thought. maybe one of your neighbors invested in a new vehicle, probably to impress their significant others. 

yet when you walked closer, you saw a blonde headed boy pulling the keys out of the ignition. everything froze for a moment, enabling you to drop your bag on the floor in shock. 

he heard the noise, looking behind himself to see where it was coming from. when he saw you in all your glory, visibly shaken up from him being there, his expression softened. 

you pinched your arm in the middle of all of this, unable to believe that this was real. but it was, and felix was opening his car door to come see you for the first time since the break up.

“hi, y/n.” he greeted you breathlessly, moving to be face to face with you.

“felix.. what are you doing here i–” your words were interrupted by a hug, the scent of warm floral englufing  you.

“i’m going to be in town for the next month for so, and i had to see you.” he told you.

“i don’t understand, i thought i was never going to see you again. we broke up, don’t you remember?” you stutter out.

“how could i forget one of the hardest days of my life? i just want to talk for a bit if.. that’s okay with you.”

“of course felix. but– i don’t think a parking structure is the greatest place to talk.” your lips pull into a slight smile to shield the ache in your heart. you missed him, a lot.

“let’s go to our spot then.”

music played out the windows of a car you remember taking the longest drives in. the ride was barely awkward for the short time it lasted. it felt like you were dancing on clouds in the comfort of his presence. it was something that you valued about him so much, his ability to make anyone feel relaxed by just being there.

every song was something that reminded you of your past relationship with him. all of it was too similar to the past, and part of it scared you. would it be selfish to think that you were running through his mind as well?

the car pulled into a secluded parking lot, shadowed by large trees. there was a long river ahead of you, the sunset glistening across the waters. he always took you to this place when you needed to forget about your troubles.

“i haven’t been to this place in forever, reminds me so much of us.” he mentioned, letting his hand hang out of the window.

“would you believe me if i said that i didn’t come here every day after we split?” you mumble under your breath.

“it always helped get stress off of your mind, i wouldn’t blame you at all.” he laughs lightheartedly, “but i kinda wanted to talk to you about that.”

“about what?”

“about us. i never stopped thinking about you if i’m going to be honest.” he confessed to you.

“not once..?” you asked hesitantly.

“it was impossible, the idea of a second chance wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“you can’t say that to me, felix. it makes it so much harder to get over you. our future together was just a few heartbeats away from disaster.”

“but i don’t want you to, y/n. my schedule has gotten so much more manageable, and i feel like now i’m in a place to give you the love that you deserve.” he looks over to you, resting his hand on top of yours delicately.

“felix, we can’t. you’re too young to be stressing about–” 

“there’s no such thing as too young, i had to scream it at the top of my lungs to realize that.” he pleaded with you, “i’m afraid that i threw you away too fast, without even trying to make it work.”

“you’re crazy, sun.” you sigh, letting your fingers intertwine with his and squeezing lightly.

“you haven’t called me sun since we were together.” he smiles bright enough to light up the vehicle.

“maybe i had a hard time letting go as well.” 

the sun barely peaked over the horizon, but for what it was, it gingerly highlighted him. he still looked like he had something more to tell you, lips mouthing nothing in particular. 

felix leans over the center console to capture a fallen piece of hair, blending it into the rest in an attempt to get his hand on the side of your face. his cold fingertips rested on your neck, with one other finger on your cheek and another on your chin.

you let him hold your face for awhile, basking in the temperature rise to an unbearable heat. he truly was so similar to the sun.

“can i kiss you? please?” he asks gently, scared of making you uncomfortable. 

all you respond with is a slight nod, too caught up to use your words. it wasn’t long before his face was mere centimeters from yours, looking up to your eyes, then your lips. and finally, the gap closed to trap you in a kiss that you haven’t felt in awhile.

one of your hands tremble in his, scared that this won’t last forever. scared that he’ll leave again and things won’t work out.

but the way he deepened the kiss made all these worries subside for a little while. it was romantic, and made you feel whole again. red and orange hues from the sunset flashed through the the wind shield. not once did he pull away, scared of losing you in the midst of it all. 

you tapped lightly on his adams apple, desperate for some kind of air. when he removed his lips from yours, you recollected yourself.

he looked worried, lips sore and wet from trying to swallow you whole, but you gave him a reassuring smile. 

“damn, you kind of took my breath away.” you giggle in between breaths.

“i just didn’t want to let you go.”

“you have me now, felix. we’ll make this work.”

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PIERCE THE VEIL series

[maltesejjong]

Its my first time putting a request so I'll try to sum it up!!

Could you make a bangchan x f!reader? Where yn and Chan have been trying for a child for abt 2 years they've had 3 or 4 miscarriages and after a long time, they have 2 beautiful twins!! (You don't have to do it if you don't want to!! Your health comes first 💗)

OMG ilysm for this. Thank you for being my first request, and thank you for trusting me to be your first request! Before I go any further, though, I want to touch on a few things with this one. First off: this is a very real thing that doesn’t get talked about enough . Miscarriages happen and there is no shame. If you have ever lost a baby before, please know that you are stronger than you think, and that you did nothing to deserve such a loss. Secondly: this is a major fear of mine. I want nothing more than to be a mother. I have had three moms throughout my life and I want to be able to give someone the love and protection the first two didn’t give me. I’m also the mom friend so yeah lmao. Finally, to all the moms out there, or those who would have been moms if not for this loss: thank you for all you do. You deserve more than what you have because you truly do the most unappreciated task in the world. You bring children into the world and give them life, regardless of if you lost the baby, there was still a life force that you created. That is an amazing accomplishment. I apologize ahead of time if any of that seemed insensitive but please know you are loved and appreciated. You are not alone🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

ONTO THE POST!

Warnings: mentions of miscarriages, that’s pretty much it. You’re married to Chan, afab!reader. Pure fluff! Oh, and mentions of girl dad Chan idk bout y’all but girl dad Chan needs a warning because he’s TOO DAMN MUCH ISTG HE IS A GIRL DAD

There’s a time skip bc I was lazy and wasn’t sure what to write as filler lol I’m sorry😭😭

Wc: Idek I didn’t count

Enjoy 😊

꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱

You sigh and drop your head back to rest on the cabinet behind you. It had been almost two whole hours since you laid the damp stick on the counter and slid down to sit on the cool tiled floor. You had been feeling nauseous lately, but chalked it up to something you ate.

Until you realized you’re late.

By three weeks.

Three. Whole. Weeks.

You’re never late.

So, of course, you decided to take a pregnancy test.

While your husband was at work.

It’s not that you don’t want Chan to know. It’s just… after so long, after trying for this long, all the disappointment and heartache that came with each failed pregnancy, you learned to avoid the topic of kids. Specifically kids of your own. As much as you both want kids, the hardship of discovering each miscarriage broke your spirits.

So you’ve learned not to get his hopes up. Which is why you keep a secret stash of pregnancy tests. Because no matter what, you always get your hopes up when you realize what is most likely going on with your body.

You close your eyes, trying to relax your mind when your phone buzzes, bringing you out of your thoughts.

💙channie💙: hey princess. I’m on my way home

You: alright babe

💙channie💙: want anything from the store?

You: ice cream?

💙channie💙: ofc baby. I’ll see you soon love you

You: love you too. Drive safe💞

Sighing, you put your phone down, knowing you need to get this over with before he gets home. You slide your thumb over the diamond on your left hand before pushing yourself up to look at the results of the test.

“Shit,” you mutter. “I knew it.”

Four months later

You let out a sigh as the doctor spreads the cold gel across your belly, which, despite being four months pregnant, has stayed suspiciously flat. Hence why Chan never caught on.

“How’s the morning sickness?” Dr. Kim asks.

“Gone,” you say.

“Any general nausea?”

You shake your head. “Only when I sit or stand up too fast.”

He nods and hums to himself. “Any cramping? Abnormal bleeding?”

“None,” you happily reply.

His eyes flick up to yours. “Have you told your husband yet?”

You close your eyes. “No,” you whisper. “And please don’t hint to him.”

“Like I would,” the doctor scoffs.

Dr. Kim, as he is known at work, is one of your closest friends. The only time you ever call him Dr anything is when you’re in his office. Outside these walls, he’s just Seungmin to you. Your best friend since high school. He’s also the first person you tell when you’ve gotten pregnant in the past… and the first to know when you lost the baby.

“I can’t tell him, Min,” you say quietly.

“Why’s that?”

You feel your eyes start to burn. “What if I lose another one?”

Seungmin stops what he’s doing and grabs your hand. “Y/n, do you realize how long it’s been? It’s been four months. In the past, it only lasted half of that. I think it’s safe to tell him. You’re more than halfway through your pregnancy. Doesn’t he deserve to know?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t want to get his hopes up, though. It would crush him.”

“And it wouldn’t crush you?”

You blink back tears.

“Y/nnie, this is why you’re married. In sickness and in health, remember? You’re with each other through thick and thin. If this is gonna crush him, then let it crush you too. It’s okay to go through that. I understand protecting him, but have you ever considered that he wants to do the same to you, but he can’t? Let him in. Let it hurt if it ends up hurting. But you’ll heal together.”

“Minnie… as a professional… do you…?”

He understands your unfinished question. “Yes, love,” he says, eyes softening. “I think it’ll make it. So tell him.”

You take a deep breath and nod. “I will.”

*************

You feel something tickle your shoulder and sleepily roll away from it. But it returns, traveling up to your neck.

“Mmm,” you groan tiredly.

“Morning, beautiful,” Chan whispers against your skin.

You roll over to face him. “Morning,” you reply, feeling a loopy grin stretch across your face. You sigh contentedly when his hand slides up your waist and rests there, holding you close. You peek up at him, recognizing the glimmer in his eyes. “What?”

His dimples appear. “Nothing,” he instantly replies. “You’re just so pretty.”

You squint at him. “Is that all?”

“What? I can’t call you pretty?”

“Christopher Chan, I know that look in your eyes. Out with it.”

He props himself up on one elbow, half hovering over you. “I was thinking…”

“Oh boy, that’s never good,” you tease, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft black hair.

He closes his eyes in bliss for a moment, than takes a deep breath. “What do you think about adopting?”

You go still. “What?”

“Adoption. I don’t know I just think maybe it’s time to add another member to the family?”

You bite your lip. “But… baby. We already have another addition to the family.”

He looks at you, obviously confused off his ass. “We do?”

You nod, steeling yourself. “Well… it might take a bit but… yeah we do…”

“Love, what are you talking about? It’s not a very long process. Did you pick one out without telling me?”

You feel your eyes widen as you realize he’s not talking about the same thing you are. “Channie, what are you on about?”

“I asked you first.”

You shake your head. “Not until you spill.”

“A dog, babe. What else?”

“A… a dog?” You ask in exasperation. “I thought you were talking about a child, Christopher.”

“No…?” You watch his eyebrows join together in thought. “Wait. Back up. We already have another addition? What is that supposed to mean?”

Shit. “Umm…” you start to consider saying you actually did pick out a dog already. “Nothing.”

“No no no no no. Nah-uh. Y/n. What did you mean?”

You shake your head, refusing to answer.

“Fine then.” His hands meet your shoulders and he pushes you into your back, hovering over you. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Then I’m not getting up.” And he plops down on top of you, dead weight.

Of course, it hurts. Hurts even more considering you have an extra little someone residing in you. “Shut,” you yelp. “Chan get off.”

There’s something in your tone that makes him shoot up. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “Not… not me…”

“Then who…” as his voice trails off, so do his eyes, until they land on your stomach. “Fuck. Wait. No.” He looks up at you. “No. Baby. What?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Yes.”

“Shit. I…” he places a hand on your stomach. “I— I could’ve hurt you,” he whispers, staring down at your tummy.

“Baby, look at me. Please?” He does and you cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s alright.”

He bites his lip. “Are… are you sure?”

You nod.

“How long?”

“Four… four months,” you whisper.

He blinks. Five times. “What?”

You nod. “I had an appointment with Minnie and he said everything looks fine. He said that I just have a late developing baby bump. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t want us to get our hopes up… But Min said that since it’s been so long and I’m already more than halfway there…”

Chan’s eyes light up. “There’s a chance?”

“A very high one. You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?”

“That I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He shakes his head. “Baby. No. I’m not mad love. I understand your hesitation to tell me. Truly.”

You blink. “Why are you so calm right now?” You bury your face in his arm, which is still planted next to your head. “I feel like I’m freaking out and I want to cry and… God I don’t even know.”

He presses a kiss to your hair. “Because I know freaking out won’t help you and staying calm is the best way to process this.”

You sigh. “Why are you so perfect?”

“Just part of the charm. Besides, I have two princesses to take care of; I can’t let myself be anything less than that.”

You turn to face him. “Two?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.

He smiled sheepishly. “I feel like it’s gonna be a girl.”

You hmmm in thought. “What if it’s a boy?”

“Then I’ll still be nothing less than perfect. I’m just saying I think it’ll be a girl.”

“I think you just want to be a girl dad,” you tease lovingly.

He blushes slightly. “Maybe.” He leans forward and nuzzles your neck. “I think id be a great girl dad.”

You kiss the side of his head. “I think you’d be a great anything dad.”

“We got this,” he whispers against your neck. “We always do.”

You wrap your arms around him. “You still want to adopt?”

He chuckles. “Babe, you just told me we’re having a baby, and now you want to add a puppy in the mix?”

You shrug. “Why not? We’re growing our family, right?”

He nods against you.

“So then let’s grow it.”

@linoalwaysknows Tysm again for submitting the request

[moni-logues]

Kintsugi 15

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 6.8k

Content: references to self-harm, description of self-harm scars, some chat about self-harm; oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, protected sex

A/N: I said I'd make it clear, so let's do that: IT'S THE END! THE FINAL ONE!! THE LAST CHAPTER! IT'S DONE!!! IT'S FINISHED!!! NO MORE!!! NO MAS!!!! FINIT!!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!!

I was so relieved to finish this yesterday and thought I would be glad more than anything to post this and finally (FINALLY!!!) bring the series to a close, but I honestly do also feel kind of sad it's over. We've been together over a year now, these characters and me; I've been actually writing them for a year but they first popped into my head 18 months ago. And now we're at the end.

Huge thank you to everyone who has beta'd for me, inc. for this chapter @quarter-life-crisis2 and @here2bbtstrash, @minttangerines, @blog-name-idk, and Amethyst

Thank you to everyone who has left comments and come along on this journey with me; it has meant SO much to me to have your investment in and enthusiasm for this story. It has made it so rewarding to tell and I hope you like their ending.

Without further ado...

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Chapter Fifteen - Spring

Chapter Fifteen - Spring 

You rested your head gently against the window, watching the people come and go. The cherry blossoms had fallen already, gathered in gutters and collected in corners. You were always sad to see them go, but this year, you felt like they had given you something. Summer, of course, as always: the heat, the sun, the long days, the blessed relief of an ice-cold drink and even colder air-conditioning. This year, the cherry blossoms had brought you something else. Truly like confetti, they had blown around you, whirled around you, celebrating your first week of From Now On.  

You didn’t say that you were getting ahead of yourself. Not this time. Because you weren’t that anxious about it, as much as that surprised you. You had all the anticipation of your first day at school with none of the nerves. The cherry blossoms had gone but they hadn’t left a hole; you couldn’t feel their absence because your life felt abundant. Last year, when you had watched them bloom and fall and fade away, you had been empty. All the joy they usually brought you couldn’t touch the sides of your despair. It hurt more to see them ushering in spring when you felt stranded alone in winter. But now you weren’t alone. Not even close. 

It was a fairly mild day, just the cool side of hot, and still. You had been impatient and got ready early, hence the sitting and staring. Yoongi wasn’t due for another five minutes, but you’d been there for twenty already. You imagined you might see him on his approach to your building and get to observe him, unnoticed. You wondered what he was doing right now – driving? In a taxi? On the subway? Was he already on his feet, close to you? Was he nervous? You thought he would be. His shyness recently reminded you of when you first met, those tentative overtures of friendship, the thrill you felt when he opened himself up to you. 

It was not unlike the thrill you felt now, waiting for him to pick you up for your very first date.  

When he was due in no less than two minutes, you stood and moved to your mirror. You had, initially, planned to wear something that you considered sexier – that is to say, more form-fitting, a little more scandalous, a dress that showed off a little more of what your mother gave you – and then you changed your mind. You didn’t need to do that, because Yoongi already knew. He had already seen what lay beneath and it was all for him now anyway. So you dressed a little more comfortably, in a dress with a little more give, a little more fabric and flounce. You looked cute; you wanted Yoongi to think you looked cute.  

Then, as you always did, you heard his footsteps. 

“Babe!” you cried, leaning out of your door to see him coming from the end of the corridor.  

But you almost didn’t manage to say anything at all because, whilst you had expected Yoongi, you hadn’t expected Yoongi in a suit, holding flowers. It stopped you short; you had been about to run out to him, jump into his arms, do something silly. Instead, you were flustered, grinning at him from your doorway, your heart going like the clappers and your blood roaring in your ears because god-fucking-damn, had he always been that handsome? 

“No!” he called back. “Go back inside! What are you doing?” 

What were you doing? Short-circuiting, a little. His hair was still long and you imagined it twisted between your fingers, soft and pullable; he was smiling, even as he scolded you, all his little teeth on display. You had always liked a man in a suit – you must have said it a thousand times – but you had not been prepared for how much you liked this man in a suit. You were going to have to get some kind of grip if you were going to make it through dinner.  

“I’m saying hello!” you called back, a little too loudly now that he was closer. “I was going to run out to meet you!” 

“Get back inside! I’m supposed to be picking you up! I need to knock on your door!” 

Truthfully, Yoongi would have loved to have you run out of your apartment and into his arms, even if he’d tumbled, you’d stumbled, you’d both fallen to the floor in a bumped, bruised heap. He’d have loved to have thrown all caution to the wind and run away with you. But all of that was still overwhelming, far too much good for a boy who still thought he was bad, and there was a process to be followed, procedure. He was clinging to that. Like a life raft.  

Yoongi had practised. In as much as you can practise speaking to a friend without actually speaking to them. He had forgotten, in all his anxiety about dating you, about being with you, being seen by you, that you were his friend. He’d had these feelings for you from the very beginning and they had never paralysed him like he felt they were now. He knew sex was not the (only) answer, that sooner or later, he was going to have to remember how to act around you. So he called each of his friends in turn to hang out with them, to remind himself, firstly, that he had them, that he was likable; secondly, that he enjoyed their company—he enjoyed company in general, more than he would ever let on; thirdly, that he could be good company: he got a laugh out of every one of them. That had to count for something.  

And he bought you flowers. Because they would provide a good distraction in case all of these remembrances fell out of his head the second he saw you. And because he wanted to, because that’s what you should do when you take someone out on a date. He knew you liked tulips and it was tulip season. It felt right. And it released a little of his impulse to shower you with things, to buy things for you and haemorrhage cash to make him seem worth it.  

For the longest time, money had been all he had. He had laughed out loud in his therapist’s office when he said that because, for the longest time, money was all he didn’t have. The not-having of money was the very thing that defined his life and set him on this path; it was the bedrock beneath the biggest of his life’s decisions. And then it became all he had. All he had to offer. He was still learning that maybe there were other things, too. 

You did as you were told and shut the door, palms pressed against it as you listened to your heart and tried to make it slow. Then you waited six seconds until you heard his first knock. 

“Oh my god, hi!” you exclaimed. “I had no idea you were here!” 

Yoongi pretended he wasn’t grinning and shot you a look. 

“Shut up,” he replied. “I bought you these.” 

Tulips. Your favourite flower. You didn't remember ever telling Yoongi that, but maybe he just knew. They were another reason that April was your favourite time of year. Seoul Forest was full of them, hundreds, thousands of them blanketing the banks. There was a rainbow of colour in every direction; tall heads on sturdy stems barely touched by breezes, swaying like a choir. It was like a pilgrimage; you went every year. Maybe this year, you would take Yoongi.   

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

You took them from him, not bothering to try to restrain your smile from splitting your face in half, and leant in to kiss him. Then you stopped. 

“Are we allowed to kiss?” you asked, one inch from his face. Then you moved away and started looking in cupboards for a vase you weren’t sure you owned.  

Yoongi looked confused.  

“Y’know, kissing on a first date?” 

He still looked confused. Then you remembered. You laughed. 

“Oh, of course, that’s right. You’re Mr Fucks on a First Date, aren’t you?” 

You expected him to be surprised; you hoped he would be a little flustered, hoped you would get to see that pink creep onto his cheeks in a way that was just too cute. Instead, he grinned and you felt your own cheeks heat. 

“Is that a promise?” he asked and your stomach swooped.  

You had found a vase, tipped flower food into it, and were gently arranging the stems. You abandoned them in favour of moving closer him, then a little closer, slowly closer, until your lips were almost on his.  

“Cheeky,” you muttered, eyes flicking down to his lips, amaranth pink and just a little pouty. You bit your own. 

Yoongi hummed. 

“So is that a yes?” 

“Only if you play your cards right.” 

You dragged your eyes up and slowly pressed a kiss to his mouth. His hands settled on your hips and you couldn’t stop yours from reaching up, tangling one in his hair, using the other to rake through the dark locks you hoped he never cut. It wasn’t exactly the kind of grip you needed to get, but every atom of your body was asking for more. It was intoxicating to be kissed by him. 

It was Yoongi who broke from you (you did not have the same level of restraint), his mouth lifting in a grin as he nodded his head slightly towards the counter, where your tulips stood in their vase. 

“Did I mention I got you flowers?” 

“You might need to tell me one more time.” 

You weren’t nervous. Not at all. On the one hand, you felt like you should be, because it was Yoongi and this felt enormous. When you stood back and looked at it, it was huge. He was one of your two (2) friends in this world and you were ruining your friendship good and proper. You could still remember the sharp-toothed despair that wound around you like a strait-jacket after what happened with Sungbin; you remembered the suffocating heartbreak of San leaving you. You knew that it could happen here. There wasn’t a guarantee that Yoongi was The One, that you were The One for Yoongi. It should have scared you.  

But it didn’t. It was too hard to be anxious sitting across from him at dinner, as if you hadn’t sat and done this very thing with him dozens of times before. It was impossible to worry about whether or not he liked you when he looked at you like that, when he smiled in that way that you had always suspected was just for you. You knew he liked you because he was here. He had asked for this date and bought you flowers and he was laughing and teasing and being exactly the person you knew him to be. That didn’t make you nervous.  

Yoongi had picked the restaurant carefully. Not too fancy, not too quiet, not too busy, not too empty, not too casual. He had spent a great many hours trawling the internet for reviews and photos and listings. He wasn’t usually this obsessive, but so much about it all had felt out of his control and this was in it. So he was going to get it right. 

Sitting across from you, he knew he needn’t have bothered. Because he knew you didn’t really care. He wasn’t even sure, sometimes, if you knew what you were eating, because you barely stopped talking to shove it in. You spoke around the food in your mouth and whirled your chopsticks around as you gestured. You picked things off his plate and dropped pieces of your own food onto it. You had this way of creating a world around yourself, such that he forgot where he was; he forgot there was anyone else around, anything else to think about. And he realised he could have taken you anywhere and it would have been just exactly this good. Because it was you. 

“Do you want to go for a drink or something? I looked up a couple of bars not far from here,” Yoongi said as he led you, your hand in his, from the restaurant. 

You leant up against him, shook your head and pouted. 

“No?” 

You shook your head again. 

“Ice-cream?” 

Not that either. 

“Ok... Do you want to go home?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Yoongi seemed surprised and you saw his eyes dim and realised—too slowly, clumsily for too much wine—that you had not exactly said what you meant. 

“I want to go home with you, please,” you clarified, still pouting up at him. 

“Oh.” 

It took Yoongi a couple of seconds to recalibrate, then he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Miss Fucks on a First Date, is it?” 

You punched him playfully in the arm and he didn’t bother to act like it hurt.  

“Do you want a drink?” Yoongi offered as you slipped off your shoes inside his apartment. 

You shrugged. You would have one if he wanted, but you didn’t need one. You felt lush and warm and relaxed enough already. And truthfully, you were at home now, in the privacy of his apartment; you didn’t want to waste a minute with your mouth on anything that wasn’t him. 

You kissed him, soft at first, because you did want to fuck on your first date, but you weren’t an animal; you had some patience. Or, that’s what you thought as you pressed your lips against his, but the thought washed away like writing on the sand as soon as you tasted him. All your impatience, all your greed, all your excitement came rushing forward, into the fray, a tsunami of feeling, all good, all for him, all surging through you like a stampede. 

“I never,” you started, interrupting yourself with another kiss, one more. “I never want to stop kissing you.”  

“Then don’t.” 

You moaned into his mouth and pressed your body against his, suddenly too warm, hot, the fabric of your dress burning where it brushed your skin. You pushed Yoongi’s jacket off his shoulders and pulled at the knot of his tie. He laughed against your lips and pulled back. 

“You know you’re just making it tighter?” 

You whined and let him take over, deftly undoing the damage you’d done and loosening it properly, pulling it through the collar of his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You thought that was quite long enough to not be kissing, to not be held so tight against him, you could practically feel his heartbeat in your chest, but he held you back.  

When he started walking away from you, you rushed after him, grabbing his hand as he opened his bedroom door. 

“Cherry?” he called softly, padding over to the bed, where she was curled up on the pillow. “You have to get the fuck out of here, ok?”  

She ‘mrowed’ at him and rolled onto her back, exposing her exquisitely soft underbelly for strokes, purring when Yoongi put his hand on her. You thought to yourself that you would quite like to be the one purring under his touch, but had to accept that being jealous of a cat was insane, even for you.  

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, lifting her up and walking away from you yet again, taking her out to the living room and placing her on the sofa.  

“You mean you don’t even give her a free show?” you asked when he returned to the bedroom. 

Yoongi’s face flattened and he looked at you, pretending not to be amused.  

“Would you like to fuck in front of my cat?” 

You jumped up and skipped over to him with a giggle. 

“No, thank you!”  

You wrapped your arms around his neck and wasted no time reconnecting your mouths. Yoongi, now the cat was out of the room and the door firmly shut, seemed as impatient as you were, his hands sliding under the skirt of your dress and up, slipping beneath your underwear and squeezing at your backside. His mouth moved to your jaw and then your neck, sucking soft kisses into your skin, holding you firmly close to him. 

You were impatient because you wanted more, more, and even more of him and you wanted it now. But you also wanted each moment to last. Every time his lips met your skin, they felt softer; every time his tongue rolled over yours, he tasted sweeter; every time his hands squeezed, you felt your heart race a little faster. You wanted him immediately and you also wanted it to last forever. You couldn’t get enough of him. 

He moved his hands upwards, outside your dress, and made light work of the buttons at the back that had honestly taken you forever to do up by yourself. You hummed. 

“You’re good at that.” 

“Hm?” 

“Good with your fingers.” 

He chuckled and flicked you lightly with one hand whilst his other freed a button from its clasp.  

“Is that right?” 

“Shut up, you know what I meant.” 

“I know exactly what you meant.”  

You shivered, even in the warm room, in the bright light of the sun streaming in through the window, when he pulled your dress off and you let it pool on the floor. You didn’t have time to be self-conscious, even if you might have otherwise, because Yoongi was on you, pushing you towards the bed until you were flat on your back, his mouth exploring your body as if he’d forgotten every inch of it in the last week. He hooked his fingers around your underwear and tugged down; you shuffled in response, lifting your hips and wriggling out of it in a way that was less than dignified, and less than efficient, but you didn’t want Yoongi to move off you, didn’t want to sit and then stand so you could do the job properly.  

Naked, again, beneath Yoongi, fully-clothed, you held tight to his shirt collar and hoped he would let you know what he wanted. You wanted to let him lead. 

And lead he did. He pulled one of your hands to his shirt buttons and you experimentally popped one open. He led your hand to the next one. You worked your way to the bottom, pulling the ends from his trousers, kissing him: his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He wouldn’t look at you and you could see the red on his ears; if you pressed your hand against his chest, you could feel the thump of his heart like a hammer.  

“Baby,” you whispered as you slowly slid your hands under his shirt, his body warm against them, soft, not smooth.  

He gave no reply and you nudged him gently with your nose. 

“Baby, look at me.”  

It took seconds that felt like minutes before his eyes met yours. They were guarded, unsure, a little bit afraid. You kissed his lips and smiled. 

“We can stop here,” you reminded him but he shook his head.  

“Go on.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded but his eyes were elsewhere again.  

You pushed your hands along his chest, around his shoulders, forcing the shirt to fall to the bed. You let your hands see him first, your lips still employed on his neck. He was soft and warm and the dip of his spine slightly damp with sweat. You felt them before you saw them, laddering down his arms, criss-crossing his chest, a handful near his hip that were rough and scabbed, still healing.  

It hadn’t occurred to you until that moment that you had never seen Yoongi in a T-shirt. That he always wore long sleeves. You hadn’t noticed. Now you knew why. 

Yoongi’s face was pink now, a little pained, uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Yoongi wanted to burst into flames and drown himself both at once. He didn’t dare open his eyes because he knew he’d not be able to see for tears. He was holding his breath, waiting for something he desperately didn’t want to happen, even though it always had. The shock, the disgust, the reluctance, the holding at arm’s length. 

You took his hand and kissed his palm, kissed the single, thick, raised scar on his wrist and all the smaller ones that followed. You turned him around, guiding him gently so he lay against the headboard, so you could kiss him all over, each and every one of them.  

“Babe,” you called to him, crawling up his body until you hovered over him, resting on your hands.  

Then you lowered yourself on top of him, skin to skin, and stroked through his hair. 

“Hey,” you tried again and Yoongi nodded slightly. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Are you ok?” 

He nodded again.  

“Gonna look at me and say that?”  

When he looked at you, it was a Yoongi you had never seen before. Shy and defeated and embarrassed and sad and there was something hurt in his eyes that almost made you angry – because no one was allowed to hurt him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.  

You kissed him once and then again and he cleared his throat lightly. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yoongi...” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“No.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Some of the hesitation in his face left him then and he looked at you. 

“Have you changed your mind?”  

It was a little defensive, the barest hint of a challenge in his voice. 

“No,” you answered. “Why would I have changed my mind?”  

He looked away again, not answering, though you didn’t need him to. You both knew. But that would never have changed your mind. He could have been covered in slime or secretly a lizard-person and you’d have been just as soft for him as you were now.  

Though you were glad that he was neither.   

“It doesn’t bother me,” you continued. “Well, it does--” You noticed the clench of his jaw-- “because I know what it takes to do it...” You traced your finger lightly over the scars on his arm. “I know exactly how it feels and I hate that you know, too. I wish I could take it all away from you. So that bothers me. Because I don’t ever want you to feel like it’s something you have to do.  

“But-” you pushed yourself up a little, sitting on his lap and pressing your hands to his chest- “actually, also, they’re proof you’re still here, y’know?” Your hand circled his wrist and you pressed your thumb against the worst scar there. “You might not have been. Any one of these could have been the last one, right? But they weren’t. It’s like... every time you do it, it’s a little bit of effort towards staying alive because there’s something worse you could do but you’re not doing that. So it’s proof. Proof that you’re here and trying and you’ve been trying and I, for one, am very glad you are still here. More than glad.” 

He didn’t reply. You shrugged. 

“And you’ve seen mine. My body is not exactly unscathed.”  

“There’s nothing wrong with your body.” His voice was stronger, more like his own. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with yours.” 

Yoongi had to get out from underneath you, had to stop you looking at him, at least for a moment. He knew that it had to happen, that you had to know, but this was too much. Too much of what he didn’t want and not enough of what he did. He didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. His chest was tight and he felt unsteady and he so badly just wanted to get back to you: you, naked in this bed, with him. 

He sat up and his arms came around you and you relished the feeling of your skin on his, nothing but warmth between you. He kissed you, insistent this time, impatient again. He wanted you on his tongue, in his hands, enveloping him. He wanted to serve himself up on a plate for you, kneel and kiss your feet; he wanted to lose himself completely in the sound of you coming undone.  

You shuffled off him and fumbled at his belt, at his zip, pushing them to the floor. You barely noticed the skin there, that was really more scar than skin; you didn’t see the light lines and the dark ones, crossing and re-crossing, thickening, fading, all over. Because it didn’t matter to you. That he wasn’t fresh out of the box, perfect and unblemished. No one was. And you shared a pain; the pain that led to these blemishes, these marks, these scars, it was yours, too.  

So you didn’t see them as they were un-covered, as he stepped out of his clothes, as you took his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy, you pumped slowly, but Yoongi had other ideas.  

He lay you on the bed and spread your thighs, trailing kisses up one side and down the other. You shivered when his hot breath hit your core and again when his mouth met your lips, his tongue licking through your folds. The pleasure felt brand new as he drank you in and you felt the exact right amount of drunk.  

If you’d been sober, this would have been too quick; you’d have been too easy, too alert. It would all have been over too soon. But the alcohol blurred the edges, dulled your senses just enough to allow you to luxuriate in it: the soft, wet pad of his tongue brushing over your clit, then hard as it pushed inside you; the press of his kiss-plump lips, their seal as he sucked at your swollen bud. Like swimming through champagne, everything was fizzing and golden.  

The sun hit Yoongi’s head, so bright it made his black hair brown and it shone. You tangled a fist in it, pulling his mouth closer, tipping your hips and he flicked his eyes towards you. They were deep and glazed and only half-open, his tongue still pressed against you. You whined and rolled your hips, then did it again and he let you rut against his mouth until all your pleasure was coiling tight, down into a heavy ball in your core.  

Then he pulled back and shifted his weight, lifting a hand from your hip. 

“Good with my fingers, right?” he said, a lopsided grin on his face, mouth sticky and shining.  

“Y-e...eess.” 

You answer was punctuated with the slip of those fingers inside you, and your breath hitched by the curling of those fingers, the pressing of them against your front wall. Yoongi lowered himself again and put his mouth back around your clit, the suction hard and sure. You were squirming now, all your muscles tightening, everything drawing down, deep into your core before bursting forward in a wet rush of heat.  

You sighed as your limbs flopped against the mattress and your chest heaved. Yoongi wiped his mouth and knelt back, similarly breathless. He took a hand to his cock and squeezed lightly at the base, hissing slightly as he did.  

You slithered off the bed, to your knees, and tapped Yoongi’s knee, asking him to turn towards you, reaching for him, for his dark, heavy cock, your mouth growing wet at the mere thought of it.  

Yoongi looked hesitant. 

“You don’t have to,” he said. 

You tipped your head to the side and frowned. 

“But... I want to, though?” 

He hesitated a second longer and you thought he was going to say no, but he turned and you did nothing to hide your enthusiasm. You pressed a kiss to the tip and let your tongue lick at the pre-cum dripping from it. Yoongi grunted and you grinned because it had actually been a long time since you’d had this kind of fun. 

It had been a long time for Yoongi, too, since he’d had his dick in anyone’s mouth. He couldn’t even remember the last time. He’d forgotten the heat of it, the softness and strength of a tongue, the looking down at them looking up. It was frankly criminal, he thought, that you could be so cute with a cock in your mouth. It was every bit as good as he might have dreamt, as hot and wet as he might have imagined. You pushed forward and he could feel the back of your throat, see the tears sparkling in your eyes, caught on your lashes. 

He had to stop looking. He tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. He clenched his fists and tried to slow his breathing down because, god, it had been so long and it was you. It was you and you had kissed him all over and you were looking up at him with wet stars in your eyes and your mouth was doing all that to him and he closed his eyes. Then you moaned with the tip of his cock at the very back of your mouth and he almost lost all control. 

He swore, his throat tight, his thighs twitching. He placed a hand on your head and pushed back your hair, tugging ever so slightly to pull you off him. You wiped your mouth and grinned up at him; it was such a sweet, filthy gesture that he almost came again. 

“You ok?” you asked and Yoongi fell to his knees. He answered with a kiss, licking into your mouth, pulling you against him. 

“Yes,” he answered, mumbled against your lips. “Want to fuck you now.” 

“Yes, please.”  

And it was everything you had wanted. Everything you had forgotten sex could be. Yoongi held you close and fucked you slow and you kissed him and caressed him and the world could have fallen apart outside and you would neither have noticed nor cared.  

There was something tearing inside Yoongi and he didn’t know what to do about it. Because you were holding him tight, pulling him so close to you, kissing him and moaning into his mouth and no one had wanted him this close, this soft, this slow for a long time. Ever. He had tried to pace himself before, tried not to rush through it but it was a blur to him now, the frenzy and the nerves and the uncertainty of it all rendering it choppy and indistinct. Whereas this was full high-definition. This, you, the way you touched him and looked at him, the way you said his name... it was like a dream. Like something he never thought he would have. The luxury of your warm body so close to his; the indulgence of your lips against his and your eyes sparkling like you had never seen a sweeter sight than him. That you wanted him. That you wanted him and let him know it. That you wanted all of him, as you ran your hands down his arms, as you squeezed at his chest and pressed your hand against his back, pulling him closer.  

Because it wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t just the thrust of Yoongi’s hips, his cock buried deep in your wet cunt; it wasn’t just the slap and slick of damp skin and arousal; it wasn’t just the pleasure you felt in your core expanding outwards, the heat in your blood, and tingling in your toes. It was all-encompassing; it was everything. It was this person who knew you, all the bad bits as well as the good, knew you and saw you and held you like you were precious. It was feeling safe and cherished and valued. It was knowing that your feelings were reflected, returned, reciprocated. It was the sweetness of finding someone who lit you up and being able to light them up the same way.  

When you lay, side by side, spent and sated, you felt like you were glowing. You rolled onto your side, into Yoongi, as he rolled into you and you kissed him again, for the hundredth time or thousandth, it still wasn’t enough. 

You slept soundly, without dreaming, without waking, until the sun was high in the sky again the following morning. You turned onto your back, throwing an arm behind you as you went, expecting it to hit Yoongi next to you.  

But he wasn’t there. You rubbed your face and pushed yourself into a seated position, assuming he was in the bathroom and would return momentarily.  

Then minutes passed and he was nowhere to be seen. You stood and scanned the floor for your underwear. Your dress was already picked up and placed over the back of a chair; Yoongi’s clothes, you could only assume, he had put in the laundry already. Your underwear was not hiding under your dress. You dropped to the floor and onto your hands and knees, to look down under the bed. 

“Aha!” 

“Aha, what?” 

You hit your hand on the bedframe as you quickly pulled it back and span to face Yoongi, standing in the door with an iced coffee in each hand and a paper bag hanging from his wrist. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, bemused but charmed. 

You twirled your knickers on one finger.  

“Thought I’d lost them. They were under the bed.” 

Yoongi merely ‘ah’ed and nodded, placing breakfast on the dressing table and swapping his jeans for light pyjama trousers.  

“Did you bring me coffee?” you asked sweetly, knowing the answer. 

“And pastries.”  

You jumped to your feet and gratefully accepted his offerings, taking a long draw from the straw of a coffee so sweet and milky it might as well not be coffee anymore. 

“Do you know how much sugar is in those, by the way?” 

“Yep! That’s why they’re so delicious!” 

“They’ll kill you.” 

You shrugged. 

“Oh well. I died doing what I loved: drinking sugary coffee.” 

Yoongi chuckled and stepped forward until you were within arm's reach. You could feel his hesitation, so you took it from him, stepping into his body and offering him a kiss.  

“Thank you.”  

“Do you want to get back into bed?” 

You couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.  

* 

You could hear something out in the hall, something maybe like a cat’s purr, but also not a cat’s purr. Some sort of buzzing, intermittent enough that you told yourself you were imagining it at first. But it just kept coming. 

“Do you hear that?” you interrupted Yoongi to ask and you held your hand up for silence as you listened for it.  

A jarring, quiet kind of noise.  

“Sounds like a phone vibrating,” Yoongi offered.  

“Oh fuck!” 

You scrambled, ungracefully, out of bed, still in just your knickers, and found your phone, buzzing against your keys, half falling out of your bag.  

Taehyung.  

“Hi, baby!” you greeted, overly cheerful because you hadn’t checked the time and you were almost certain he was calling because you were late. 

You had planned to have brunch and a debrief. You had forgotten all about it. 

“When are you coming home? I’m bored.” 

You pulled your phone away from your ear and, upon noting the time, realised that you weren’t late at all. Not even close. 

“What do you want, Teddy? I’m seeing you later.” 

“I know, but I’m bored now and you’re a dirty, little stop-out.” 

“Entertain yourself! I’ll be home when I’m home. I'm not leaving now just because you’re bored.” 

He sighed dramatically at the other end of the line. 

“So I suppose it’s love, then, is it?” 

The word made your heart skip a beat and you didn’t turn around, just in case Yoongi was looking at you.  

“Maybe.” 

“You sicken me.” 

“Fuck off. You’re happy for me.” 

“Yes, I am, babygirl. I’m very happy for you but I’m also very lonely and bored. Can’t you just come home a bit early? Yoongi will still be there tomorrow but I am fading away by the second.” 

“Dying from lack of attention?” 

“Exactly.” 

“I’ll be home when I’m home, Teddybear. Try to make it until then.” 

“Alright, but you’ll be sorry when I'm gone.” 

“Extremely. Now leave me alone!” 

He heaved another dramatic sigh before hanging up and you skipped back to the bedroom. 

“Everything ok?” Yoongi asked as you settled back in his arms. 

“Teddy’s being needy.” 

“Do you need to go?” 

“Absolutely not!” You snuggled in tighter and pressed your lips to his chest. “Not until the very last minute, please.” 

Love. You thought about the word when you left Yoongi’s apartment very late that morning. You wanted to say it then and there, tell him, but it felt like a lot. It felt like your usual Too Muchness coming back. You had only been on one date. It was a lot of pressure to put on a person and you didn’t want to pressure Yoongi. You didn’t want to push him. You didn’t want to take control and careen this fledging thing straight into a ravine.  

It felt natural. It felt easy. It felt like everything you had wanted. It felt so right that it was maddening to you that it had taken you so long to see it. But you also understood that that had to happen. The time it took you to see Yoongi like you did now was time you spent getting things wrong and hurting and healing the wrong way and then the right way and you knew that this, this happiness you had that made you glow, that made your steps feel light, it was a result of that time, that patience. So you didn’t want to rush. Didn't want to push. You would still love him tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that and on and on and on. It could wait. 

* 

Until six days later, when you were sitting on the subway on your way home from work and you snapped. You didn’t want it to wait. You wanted to tell him. And you knew you could. You could say it and he could not and you would survive that. You would understand. And it wouldn’t matter because you knew he was in this, knew he would get there if he wasn’t there already. You chided yourself for waiting at all, because love should never have to wait. Love should be shouted from the rooftops, shouldn’t it? 

So you got off at a different stop and changed lines and you walked as fast as you could to Yoongi’s building and you let yourself in. 

“Babe!” you cried as you hastily kicked off your shoes and rounded the corner into the kitchen, a little out of breath. 

“Are you ok?”  

Yoongi had his apron on, a knife in his hands, vegetables on the chopping board in front of him and it was so sweet, so domestic, a perfect vision of everything you wanted. He was looking at you with concern, as well he might, given you had just burst in, unannounced, in all kinds of a fluster. 

You nodded. 

“Yeah,” you panted. “I just had to tell you. I love you.” You moved closer to him; he put the knife down and wiped his hands on his apron and you held tight to it. “I love you. As in, I am in love with you. I love you so much. And I know, I know, it’s been no time at all and it’s too soon and it’s too quick and you don’t have to say it and I don’t want to put any pressure on but I just want to tell you. I have wanted to tell you and I wasn’t going to because- because all of the above! But I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I’m in love with you, Min Yoongi.”  

He blinked a little and then a bit more. 

“Oh.” 

He sounded surprised and you laughed because you were nervous and because you felt giddy and silly and so in fucking love. You tugged him closer with his apron and kissed him, firmly at first, then softer when he kissed you back and rested his hands on your hips.  

“I love you.” 

He said it quietly, his mouth still close enough to yours that you could feel his lips move with the words. You laughed again and kissed him again and whispered it back to him.  

“I love you.” 

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Taglist: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings, @acquiescence804 

[sc0tters]

Bout Time | Steven Holtz & Jacob Truscott

summary: how far can your brothers requests go if he isn't around?

pairing: Steven Holtz x Lapointe!Reader x Jacob Truscott

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, threesome, oral (both fem and m receiving), swearing.

word count: 3.47k

authors note: I don't have a clue who's idea this was originally but let's take a moment to say thanks to @mirrorballmcgroarty for bringing this one to us! and for letting me try a few different things with it...

The house was buzzing as the team came back from an away win.

The seniors wanted to celebrate and that’s how you landed on the couch “do you think she knows what she’s doing to us?” Steven crossed his arms as he watched you laugh at something Thomas had said. 

Of course the boys were happy to see their old teammate return to the school as the Sharks were playing Detroit the next day.  But what they didn’t want to see was how close you were to your ex fuckbuddy “wouldn’t put it past her.” Jacob grumbled knowing exactly what game you played with them. 

Since sophomore year you got a kick out of flirting with the boys, but one detail that was missed was that you flirted with Steven first. Your brother Phil remained none the wiser as you would be in the same room of a party laughing at whatever happened when his own roommates would have thoughts about you. Ones so naughty that they often had the boys in their rooms, with their hands fisting their cocks picturing that it was your mouth or your cunt instead. The boys watched you sit on his lap giving him a chance to finally kiss your neck as he got the chance the practically be faced with your breasts. 

You were in this spaghetti strap top and shorts that were enough to make most of the guys do a double take of you “are you gonna do something?” Steven motioned to Jacob to break up whatever was forming “you think they’re gonna stop me?” Thomas grinned as he ran his fingers over your side. 

The two of you had been flirting at first but when you noticed that the boys staring things quickly changed. Thomas couldn’t deny that he was still attracted to you, so when you said you wanted to push their buttons he couldn’t say no. 

So as he ran his fingers through your hair the two of you were reminded about all that once happened “you two are not fucking on the couch.” Jacobs whine made you smirk “don’t see you coming to anyone else to stop ‘em.” You could see at least five couples around you both looking like they were close to leaving, including Phil and Khiana. 

Thomas squeezed his hand around your waist as he looked at his phone to see the time “she needs to take me back to the hotel anyways.” He announced making all three of the still Umich students heads snap in his direction “you need one of us to come with you?” Your amusement quickly turned to irritation as you glared at the duo. 

Sure you wanted to tease them, even rile them up a little. But getting cockblocked was not on the list of options you were willing to have “I am pretty sure I can drive my car alone.” You pointed out as you only had one drink when you got there before you switched to water.

The boys watched you leave almost three hours ago, and now with the duo being left alone in the house to clean after Phil went to the hotel with Khiana. The boys thought the worst as you hadn’t shown up like you normally did “party is over kid!” Steven called out hearing the front door open. 

Your laughter was followed by it “came to help clean up.” You were always there as an extra set of hands when the party was over.  Neither boy liked waking up to a messy house hence why they stayed up the night before “you have a good night?” Steven smiled watching you tug your hair back into a messy updo. 

His comment made you raise your eyebrows “yeah it was good to see Tom again.” You nodded tugging at the necklace on your collarbones “but you will be happy to know that I stayed a holy child tonight.” Your comment now made them both feel surprised. 

They looked at each other trying to process what was going on “but you were gone for so long.” Jacob pointed out as he crossed his arms wondering if this was really the stuff they were meant to be asking you about. 

But when laughter left your lips both boys watched you in confusion “not every guy only lasts five minutes boys.” You pointed out making them both turn red “thought even you two would know that.” You added with a smirk as they grew irritated. 

Both of them were lost for words as they looked at each other “we know how to be in bed.” Steven coughed the words out as Jacob sent him a glare “it’s okay to not be that experienced boys.” You teased patting Jacob on the chest as you winked at the older boy.

Before they got the chance to respond they watched you turn to the kitchen, bringing a load of empty beer bottles with you “she is going to get us killed.” Steven pointed out with a sigh “what he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Jacob pointed out as there was an entire rule Phil created for the team leaving you off limits. But as he was shit out of luck expecting it to be kept up with him thirty minutes away and at a hotel for the night. 

They were able to behave for now getting most of the cleaning done even “did you really care if I slept with him?” You always had a soft spot for the captain as you sat on the counter “who you sleep with shouldn’t be my issue.” Jacob sighed as he dropped the towel that he had in his hands.

You let out a huff almost frustrated that you were serving yourself up to him on a silver platter, after pushing as many buttons as you could “even if it was you?” Finally his head snapped to turn to you “you better not fuck with me.” Jacob found himself between your legs as you turned your head up to his. 

It felt like the air around you both grew warm “dead serious.” You nodded finally watching him cup your cheeks. 

His hands were rough against your skin, almost not caring that Steven only throwing the trash away. Jacob dropped his head finally letting years of want and desire get what they had been waiting for since freshman year. The kiss had your lips feeling like they were on fire, moulded together in the same way a final piece of a puzzle fits in. 

A moan left your lips as you let your hands scratch up the inside of his chest running over his muscles “am I walking in on something?” Steven let the question slip from his lips causing your head to turn in his direction. 

The boys both looked at each other almost ignoring you “not if you wanna join.” You announced standing up as your body pressed against the captains. 

They swore that you were going to be the death of them as they looked back at you. Steven walked closer as he watched the younger boy squeeze at your waist “that what you want?” Jacob’s rough voice made you squirm. 

Your legs pressed together in an attempt to suppress the heat you felt causing an inaudible noise to leave your lips as you nodded “unless you say it we won’t do it.” Steven sighed as he kissed your shoulder “I need you both.” You gasped pushing the words out of your mouth. 

Their silence made you want to cry “want you to fuck me please.” Your whine was enough to make their cocks grow hard “look at you so well mannered.” Jacob raked his fingers through her hair as you whimpered. 

You couldn’t help nod, desperately wanting either of them to make a move “why don’t you go sit on my bed in nothing.” Jacob kissed your neck as you nodded. 

Both boys felt their patience being tested as they watched you saunter upstairs “why aren’t we going?” Steven grumbled wanting to hit his teammate for letting you go “because we need to see if she knows how to listen or if she’s gonna be a brat.” The captain smirked as if he had planned this all out already. 

You looked at your body in the reflection of his mirror “told you she couldn’t follow a simple instruction.” Jacob clicked his tongue as he shook his head “thought so much better of her.” Steven sighed watching you turn around to face them in nothing more than your bra and panties. 

You walked back to them with a soft smile on your lips “wanted to give you boys something to take off.” You explained reaching back to unclip your bra “aren’t you huff so considerate.” Jacob scoffed tugging at the straps pulling your bra down to the ground as your breasts bounced. 

Their eyes were drawn to the grin on your lips “who do you want first?” Steven’s words reminded you both that he was there “want your mouth.” Since you heard a rumour about the older boy being a great bottom you let your mind run wild with fantasies.

Jacob couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched you kiss Steven. After all the older boy was the one who you flirted with first and even if Jacob got the chance to kiss you first, the feelings you seemed to hold for the other boy stayed stronger. 

It was like this hotted blackout where before you knew it your thighs pressed against Steven’s head. And Jacobs lips were against your breasts “fuck me.” You gasped feeling the captain nip at your sensitive peaks. 

The sensation made you sit on Steven’s face finally giving the boy what he wanted as his tongue licked up your slit. The feeling made you moan causing Jacob to look up at you, letting his lips pop from your nipple as saliva trailed from his lips “you make such pretty noises.” Jacob let out a soft laugh as he kissed your lips.

You were feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure you felt almost forgetting how to breathe, as your hand ran down Jacob’s chest you cupped his aching boner. Moaning when Stevens nose grazed your clit “you gonna let me see just what these pretty lips can do?” His rough voice made you whimper as your mouth salivated, watching your fingers painfully fiddle with his shorts. 

Jacob was close to throwing a few warnings your way when you tugged at his shorts pulling them down with his boxers. His cock hit his pelvis bone and your eyes would have popped out of your head if you were a cartoon character “you can touch it pretty girl.” He cooed making you place your hands on his thighs to help steady you. 

The effort you had to use to on his swollen mushroom head was practically cruel “I am gonna shove it down your throat if you don’t fuck these licks.” He grunted having enough of your teasing spreading the precum from his cock around the head “so strict.” Steven took the action to slap your ass making you writhe against him.

It was quick but you realized that they were very much going to be on the same team, maybe even against you. So you listened wrapping your lips around his cock running your tongue along the base of it. 

Jacob let out a grunt as Stevens hand squeezed at your thigh as you moaned “This mouth is fucking heaven.” The hockey player tugged his fingers through your hair forcing you to take more of him as your throat constrict around his cock. 

Steven continued to lap at your clit making you moan around the captain “so is this pussy.” Steven spoke up as you squealed. 

You clenched around his tongue driving your hips against his face wanting to get yourself off. The room felt sweaty as you looked up at Jacob through your batted eyelashes “hi pretty.” Jacob smirked feeling the edges of your lips curve upright. 

He watched you drop his cock from your mouth “I am gonna cum holy fuck.” You announced tugging your freehand through Steven’s hair “hold it until you’ve got me in your mouth.” Jacob’s demand wasn’t something that you were going to argue with it.

Not when you’re chasing such a high that was needy and full of desperation “who woulda thought that the easiest way to get you all quiet would be to shove a dick in your mouth?” His vulgar words made you moan as tears formed in your ears feeling Steven speed up beneath you. 

So you tilted your head upwards making sure you were able to take more of his cock “fucking there we go now.” He grunted beginning to fuck your throat as he felt his thrusts grow scattered “fuck!” Jacob gripped at your hair as he forced you to stop letting your nose hit his lower abdomen. 

The boy watched in awe as you practically sucked his cock like a straw letting his release shoot a sticky string of cum against your throat. Your orgasm wasn’t far behind as the Jacob changed his attention to teasing your nipples “let go.” Your moans were muffled with the boys release still in your mouth after you saw the way he smirked seeing the sight. 

Your body shook as his hands, making sure to hold on tight enough that the vibrations that sent through you weren’t going to be enough to make you fall off of Steven. Your thighs dug into the mattress as your eyes stayed on the captain who watched his cum drip out of your mouth and down your chin “please jesus.” You whimpered feeling like you saw stars as his thumb caught your chin bringing his release back into your mouth. 

Your lips swirled around his tongue making it easier for you to remain composed as Steven lapped at your cunt like you were his last meal “swallow f’me.” Jacob ordered feeling himself grow hard again as you obliged. 

The salty liquid slid down your throat with ease as Steven tapped your thigh when you came down from your high “think you can give us one more?” His voice was soft as you pulled off of him. 

You nodded watching Steven sit up straight “of course our little slut is.” Jacob smirked watching you bring your hands up to cover your breasts “no baby let us see you.” The older boy clicked his tongue as his hands wrapped around your wrists. 

He smiled as he took in the sight of you. They swore it was heavenly watching you bite at your lower lip “you look so painful.” You mumbled staring at his cock at sat under his shorts “and feeing so naked to you both.” Your whine reminded them both that they were still in their clothes besides for the fact that Jacob had his boxers half way down his thighs. 

The boys watched you in awe “all you have to do is say the word.” Steven reminded you as he pulled his shirt off of his shoulders “want you to fuck me so bad.” You whined still wanting so much more. 

It made Jacob nod “so who gets that privilege?” He cocked his head as your eyes didn’t leave his.

Your hand shook as you lifted it up to point to him making him smile. Sure it hurt Steven but as you crawl over to his side and kissed him he couldn’t remember his negative feelings for you. 

The taste of your lips was sweet on his tongue “such a pretty girl.” He mumbled with your cheeks in his hands. 

The mattress dipped behind you as Jacob sat down letting his hands grip at your hips. As his cock swiped over your slit you tilted your hips back to his “still such a needy little slut after all that.” Jacobs laugh taunted you as he slid his cock into your core. 

Steven held you up as he pulled away to watch your face contort adjusting to the captains size “move Jacob please.” You whimpered feeling your walls hug his throbbing cock. 

He gratefully obliged letting his hips begin to roll as he pulled out to the point where only his tip was felt by your cunt. Before he sunk back into you allowing your hips to be met by his as he bottomed you out. 

You were still sensitive from your orgasm mere minutes ago, making you whimper “you think you can handle a bit more?” Steven’s voice was soft as he ran his fingers over your lower lip. Like he hadn’t pictured it wrapped around his cock a hundred times over. 

When you didn’t say anything still trying to get used to the sheer force that the boys hips snapped into yours at as the tight feeling of your core made him hard all over again “answer us when we talk to you baby.” Jacob warned tugging at your hair in annoyance as it made you squeal.

Your eyes connected back with the older boys as you nodded “yeah.” Your word was shaky since most of your energy was forced into your legs to keep you upright.

Steven nodded tugging at his shorts letting his own cock come out. Now Jacob might have been longer but the boy in front of you was thicker “can help you through it.” He mumbled giving your lips one last kiss. 

It was easier to keep yourself from collapsing onto the bed as Jacob dug his fingers into the meat of your hips. Part of you wanted to tease Steven in the ways that you did with Jacob but that wasn’t possible as the new angle that Jacob for you at. Had you feeling him in your throat making you moan, which Steven naturally took as his cue to slot his cock between your lips. 

The boys quickly settled into a rhythm that had you feeling hotter than ever. Used at both sides for these selfish boys who only wanted to make themselves feel good in that moment “fucking hell.” Steven let out a grunt as he ran his fingers through your hair making a makeshift ponytail.

The walls soaked up the sounds of skin slapping and soft grunts that spewed from the boys lips as they wanted to corrupt you for any future partners, even if they came from your past. Memories would be engraved in their minds of not only how you felt or tasted. But truthfully of how they felt so at ease with you, even if it was just between your legs. 

This night had fulfilled all fantasies you might have once had with them working in constant opposite unison. As Jacob pulled back Steven would force you to take more of his cock. 

And they could tell that you were close by the way that you quickly began a whimpering mess as the older boy painted your chest with his release, opting to make you instead like his own personal toy. 

He watched you whimper “go on baby milk his cock.” Steven’s voice was barely a whisper but you didn’t need to be offered it twice as your hand went to your clit. 

Your head hit his shoulder as you cried “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted letting your body writhe against them both. 

It was your orgasm as your eyes screwed shut that triggered the captains, leaving the walls of your cunt painted from his release “there we go.” He grunted slowly thrusting into you twice more before he pulled out. Letting his release mix with yours as it oozed down the inside of your thigh before you were let to rest your head on his bedsheet as they shifted to your sides instead.

They watched in awe as your chest heaved until you came down from your orgasm “you still with us pretty girl?” Steven smiled as you nodded “bath.” You blurted out making both of them laugh. But still even in that fucked out state that you were in, neither one was ready to say no.

Phil came home the next morning blissfully unaware of the fact that you were still fast asleep in the arms of his best friend and captain. Both boys ready planning what they wanted to do next leaving you with some surprises along the way. So here’s to the best graduation send off of all time, with hockey, sun, and sex.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 2

Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Marshall takes Y/N for a drive and they open up about their sobriety experiences.

Tags : mentions of substance abuse

The drive wasn’t very long but it was kind of silent. You did not really know what to say, so you kept to yourself, as Marshall was driving. After a short while, you arrived to some sort of observatory, from where you could see the whole city of Detroit. The view was breathtaking. It was starting to get dark so you could see the lights from the building.

- Woah, you said as you got out of the car.

- Nice, huh ? Marshall asked.

- Definitely better than my room, you admitted.

- It’s one of my favourite places in the city, he explained. When I started recovery, I thought I was going crazy, staying in my house. So I started coming here everyday. Sometimes for twenty minutes. Sometimes for hours. But at least it got me up from the couch and out of the house.

- The city looks great from here, you said. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.

- It’s not highly touristic, Marshall explained. Not many people know about it. That’s what is so great.

- I have to admit I haven’t explored much of Detroit yet, you said.

- For how long have you been here ? He asked.

- About four years now. I came to get my Master’s degree, as an exchange student at University of Michigan. And then I got a PhD fellowship so I took the opportunity to stay. Plus, I got together with Simon around the same time so it kind of felt like it was meant to be.

- Simon’s your boyfriend ?

- Ex, you quickly corrected. We split up. Actually, he left when I was in the hospital. Hence the living situation with Jamal and Talia, who were kind enough to take me in.

- I see, Marshall said. So he left you because of the OD ?

- Kind of.

Without really thinking about it, you proceeded to tell him about the breakup. Something about Marshall made it easy to talk. He was easy-going and made you feel safe, as if you had known him forever and could share everything with him.

- I really thought we were endgame, you said. We were talking about getting married eventually. And having kids, too…

You stopped talking as you felt a knot forming in your stomach. Simply mentioning your plans of having kids with Simon brought back the memories of the miscarriage. That very event had been the beginning of the end for the two of you. Even though Simon had been saddened by the miscarriage, it hadn’t affected him much. You were the one who gad to deal with the days of bleeding, cramping and crying. You had become attached to this baby and had troubles coming to terms with the loss of this pregnancy. Simon, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine.

- We’ll try again, he had said. It happens. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, you know ?

Even though you knew he was right, you were hurt. It wasn’t about trying again. It was about processing your loss and grieving. It felt as if Simon had moved on as soon as you’d been told there was no heartbeat anymore. As time went on, you felt unable to talk about your grief, your pain and the trauma. So you started using more and more pills.

- YN ? You heard Marshall’s voice pulling you back to reality.

- Sorry, you said apologising profusely. I got in my head.

- It’s ok. Breakups are hard to talk about, he said. You’re really strong, you know ? With everything you’re going through right now.

- I kind of brought it on myself, you said sheepishly. If I hadn’t been using, I wouldn’t be going through this breakup right now.

- You never know what could have been. You just need to focus on getting better right now.

- Any wisdom to share ? You asked with genuine interest.

In fifteen years of sobriety, you assumed he had gained some wisdom you could use.

- Don’t be afraid to talk. Like, ever. In fact, I think that staying silent and alone with your thoughts makes you insanely more vulnerable and at risk for a relapse. Also, there are thousands of things I could tell you right now, but the only thing that matters is that, as lonely as you may feel, there are many, many people going through the same thing. You are not alone. Your road to recovery doesn’t have to be a lonely one.

He smiled and got closer to you as he spoke. He gently put a hand on your shoulder.

- You may lose people in the process but that doesn’t mean you can’t be surrounded by love and support, he finally said.

You felt a little lump in your throat and, for a second, you thought you’d cry.

- How did you get over the disappointment you caused people ? You asked, looking into his piercing blue eyes.

- By making amends and, mostly, creating new memories with them. The hardest thing for me was letting my family down, especially my children. I missed Christmas with them when I OD’d. I’ll never have that time back. But I make a point of sharing meaningful moments with them now. More than ever before, he said.

- Do they resent you ? You shyly asked.

- I’m pretty sure they did. My daughter is the one who found me unconscious, two hours away from dying. I guess the kids did suffer from my absence. They needed me as a parent, not as a burden. But I’m better now, I’m present and I’m here for them. That’s what matters. It’s in the past, now. What matters the most to me is that they know I love them.

You watched Marshall’s eyes as he gazed upon the horizon. Obviously, talking about his kids struck a chord.

- You seem like a great dad, you said. Your kids are lucky to have you.

- I try to be. To be fair, they’re the ones who are great. I owe them everything.

- Tell me about them, you asked.

The way Marshall spoke of his daughters sparked your interest. The sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned them warmed your heart and you could only hope that, one day, you would be so lucky to have kids you could love as much. Obviously, he loved talking about his daughters and bragging about them. You couldn’t help but think it must be a bit odd for them to have Eminem as a dad, growing up.

You chuckled at the thought of your own Dad, who was so different than Marshall, even though they were about the same age.

- What is so funny ? He asked with a smile. Sorry, I’m such a geek when I talk about my kids.

- No, it’s not that ! You reassured him. I was thinking of my father. I think you’re about his age but somehow you’re… cooler, I guess ?

- You’re only saying that because I’m not your father, Marshall assured you.

- Pretty sure not, you insisted.

After all, you highly doubted that Marshall’s daughters would trade their rapper father for yours. Maybe it was a matter of culture, but Marshall was warmer, more emotionally available.

- Are you close to your parents ?Marshall asked. They must be proud of you, getting your PhD and stuff.

- My mom died when I was two so I don’t have a lot of memories of her. I was raised by my father and his new wife. We’re not really close but I guess you could say they’re kind of proud, you explained.

- Do they know about your OD ?

- No, you admitted shyly. I couldn’t disappoint them like that. How would you react if the same thing happened to one of your girls ?

- I don’t think I’d be disappointed, Marshall said after a few seconds of thoughts. I’d be scared, concerned and, frankly, disappointed in myself if they ever felt the need to hide this from me. My job is to be there for them, come what may. If you were my daughter, I would want you to know that.

- Well, my Dad would never forgive me, you said without a thought.

- I think the forgiveness that matters the most is your own, he pointed out.

Marshall’s words meant a lot to you. Talking to him so candidly felt so good.

- What if I can’t forgive myself, Marshall ? You asked with tears welling in your eyes.

- You can. You deserve to, Y/N. Just because you fucked up doesn’t mean it’s over for you. You deserve to have great things coming your way, he replied as he pulled you in for a hug.

- But I’m a failure, you pointed out. I lied to everyone, I screwed everything up with Simon and even Talia doesn’t trust me anymore. I don’t even deserve you being so nice to me. Why are you so nice to me ?! You blurted out.

A smile started to form on Marshall’s lips.

- Because kindness isn’t meant to be deserved anyway, He said. When I got sober, I had amazing people helping me out. I always told myself I’d do the same for anyone else in need, he explained. And you may think you deserve to have everyone hating you, but the truth is, I haven’t heard anything but good things about you from Talia and Jamal. They love you and they think the world of you. That tells me you’re pretty cool.

You let out a laugh and dried your tears.

- Thank you, Marshall. For everything.

- My pleasure, Y/N.

The two of you kept on gazing at the lights of the city for a while, making small talk. At some point, you found yourself shivering. Marshall offered you his jacket but you felt kind of tired and asked if he would mind driving you back instead. On the way home, you stared at him and realised that, even though you’d just met him, you felt insanely comfortable around him. You were thankful for making his acquaintance. Also, you couldn’t help but tell yourself he looked as good as he was kind - which was saying something. He wasn’t really your usual type but you found him quite appealing. And you started blushing as soon as you realised that you were kind of attracted to someone who was old enough to be your father. You shrugged it off and told yourself that it was probably your vulnerability playing you.

When you arrived at Talia and Jamal’s, he stopped the car and stepped out to open your door. He hugged you goodbye and reached for his necklace before handing it to you.

- It helped me through some tough times, I hope it does the same for you, he said before kissing your forehead.

- Won’t you need it though ? You asked.

- I’m good, he simply said. Take care, Y/N.

You smiled and waved goodbye as he got back to the car. You had no idea as to whether you’d see him again or not, but it did not really matter in this moment. You felt as if there was purpose in the moments you just shared. Even if you never crossed path again, you knew you’d forever be thankful for him. You put the necklace around your neck and entered the house with a smile on your face.

- Well, someone looks cheerful, Talia said as you walked through the door.

- Yeah, we had a great talk, you said. He is very nice. Is everyone gone ?

- They went out to dinner, she said. I stayed so that you wouldn’t come home to an empty place.

- You didn’t have to !

- I don’t mind, really. Plus, I think it’s good for Jamal.

- He loves having you around, you pointed out. And everyone seems to like you too !

- They’re super cool, she admitted. But I can do without the boys’ talk, she added with a grin. Plus, now, I have a live-in bestie ! A bestie with a necklace that definitely rings a bell, she pointed out.

As soon as those words left her mouth, you knew you were in for a long series of questions.

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Jason Teague Prompt Response

Summary: Jason has just helped you escape the clutches of his nefarious mother. Where will you go from here now that you know the truth?

Pairing: Jason Teague x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I wanted to dabble in the darker side of Jason's arc in the show and the mention of the stones, Lana, and his mom. There's such a clear line cut of when he turns from being a character that has your sympathies who is striving hard for some redemption we don't yet understand into being revealed as a calculating murderer who has severe mommy issues (I say that with love of course). The original ending was going to be much darker but I'll admit, once I got to it, I just couldn't do it. To Jason or Y/N. So I apologize if this has the feeling of crawling up to the dark edge to peek over it but then a backing off. Hope it's still okay, though.

A huge thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of gun, implied violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of injuries, mentions of possible murder scenarios, mentions of infidelity

Word Count: 4761

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Jason Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Tom version | Anael version | SDV Alex version

Jason unlocked the motel room door and urged you in first as he glanced around, making sure no one else was around. Once you were in, he flipped the light on and moved towards the windows to draw the curtains closed. You remained where he left you, frozen in shock, and dripping on the cheap and questionable-looking carpet.

Both of you were soaked through. You’d gotten caught in the storm when Jason had freed you from captivity, hence beginning the run for your life. Thunder cracked above, causing the motel to shake, and you jumped slightly. You’d been hearing thunder for the last half hour, running in the downpour as lightning ripped through the skies overhead once Jason dumped the car he’d been driving. It was too risky to keep especially since he’d likely stolen it just for this mission alone, thus he’d simply grabbed a bag out of the trunk, tossed it over his shoulder, took your hand, and threw the keys out into the surrounding grass. Ever since, you’d been on the run, Jason leading you to the next town over. When you were both exhausted, Jason had decided on this motel, paid cash for a room, and now you were here. Alone. At any second, you could be taken away again since a certain someone wanted you out of the way and you had a figurative price on your head. Something told you that if you were taken again, this time it would be ensured that you wouldn’t actually survive it. They didn’t want to keep you tied to a chair or temporarily removed from the board — it was clear that they wanted you gone completely. 

You watched Jason move around to further secure the place and, the shock wearing off, you slowly brought yourself to sit down on the edge of one of the beds, not caring that you were probably soaking through the bedspread. You stared into space as flashes of memories began to assault you. You hadn’t been physically tortured, but the things you were told, the things you’d been shown…well, all of that, you’d rather forget. 

You heard a click that made your eyes snap up in Jason’s direction, seeing him checking his gun. That was something new, Jason not only being armed but also apparently being an expert marksman, something he’d proven when coldly and efficiently dispatching your guards. You highly doubted that either of them would ever walk properly again, and it was just one of the many new things you’d learned about your boyfriend these past three days; never in a million years would you have ever thought him capable of wielding a gun. You’d been dating him for six months and it turned out you never really knew him — the real him. Sure, you knew his name was Jason Teague, but you didn’t know just what kinds of things actually came with that name. And to think, you thought the Luthors were soulless, dysfunctional, greedy monsters. 

You stared ahead at the dresser. In a small voice, you stated, “I should call Clark, let him know I’m safe. The Kents can call my parents and let them know I’m okay. Or I can call Lana…if you want.”

Jason stopped what he was doing and his gaze landed on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw clench and his lips press together. Truthfully, you were surprised he had even bothered rescuing you since it turned out you weren’t the only Smallville native he had been dating. How he managed to pull that one off you couldn’t be sure. Then again, he had managed to keep this side of himself under wraps up until three days ago when all the while, you’d never been the wiser. You were in love and happy, only seeing what he wanted you to see — how could he not be successful at keeping the fact that he was seeing one of your best friends hidden from you, too?

“You can’t,” Jason answered, his tone icy. “It’s too risky right now.”

You managed a slow nod, your eyes never lifting from the dresser. You’d expected as much and honestly, you didn’t want to drag your parents, the Kents, Clark, or anyone else into this mess. You refused to put them in danger; you’d die first, something that was likely going to happen soon anyway. It was probably better for them not to know the truth about what was going to happen to you. Lana… Well, Lana was already caught up in this whether she knew it or not. You just hoped she had a better chance than you did and that she got out of this. And you really hoped that if she found out the truth about Jason (and you really wanted her to) that she would be stronger than you to get past the pain of his betrayal and get as far away from him as she could. He was a walking death sentence and even though she had unknowingly participated in your heartbreak, you didn’t want that for her at all.

Jason crouched down in front of you but you refused to meet his eyes, instead looking down at your lap. “Let’s see those cuts.” You were numb when he pulled your hands to him and studied the indentations and burns the ropes had made on your wrists. He glanced up at you but you kept your gaze on your injuries. “They’re not as bad as I thought they’d be but they should still be cleaned.” He reached over to his bag and pulled out a first aid kit. You watched in confusion as he proceeded to clean your wounds and then bandage them with great care. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost think the old Jason, the Jason who’d come into the coffee shop you worked at every summer day to flirt with you until you agreed to a date, was starting to show through. But you did know better, and you knew that he was a far better actor than you’d ever given him credit for. 

When he was done, he tenderly rubbed a thumb over one of the bandages. “There,” he murmured. This time, when he lifted his eyes to yours, you didn’t avoid his gaze. You tried to see the man you once knew who had actually held you as you cried when your divorced parents’ bickering and dramatics ruined your 18th birthday dinner; you had already been nervous-yet-excited beforehand because you were announcing that you and Jason were going to travel to Europe for two weeks. You’d always wanted to go, but it seemed to be only a dream — one that was out of your reach until Jason surprised you with two tickets to London as a birthday gift. The trip ended up being canceled later anyway because Jason suddenly had to fly to Paris on an urgent business matter for his mother, something that she was going to pay him for. He needed the money since his father had cut him off and he was starting at CKU in the fall. You’d offered to go with him, but he said he wouldn’t have any time for sightseeing, promising he’d call you often and bring you back some French souvenirs, swearing he’d pick out the best spots for you two to return to at a later date. He’d kissed you goodbye and gave you that brilliant smile of his, waving as he moved further into the airport. He ended up staying in Paris for weeks and when he came back, he seemed distant and a little busier, but you chalked it up to him starting classes and his new job right away. Now, obviously, you knew that that wasn’t the case, but as you stared into his jade-colored eyes, you didn’t see a trace of the Jason you’d met before that trip to Paris. He had never really existed, had he?

The real Jason, the one you’d come to know now, cupped your chin and studied your face from all angles. “We’ve been so busy running that I haven’t really had a chance to look you over. Did they hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

Jason’s eyes snapped to yours. “What does that—”

You got to your feet, the action knocking his hand away, and you moved towards the table he’d left the gun on. You stopped right before it and stared down at the weapon, almost as if it was mocking you by being there. 

“Y/N.” You heard the familiar soft call of your voice and you briefly closed your eyes. If only you had never met him… Gentle hands landed on your shoulders and turned you around to face him, seeing the cold aloofness from before had all but vanished. “I need you to tell me. What did they—”

You decided you were done holding back. You’d been through hell the past few days, you were exhausted and depleted of any energy or motivation for anything else, and who knew how long you had? “You never really loved me, did you?”

His eyes widened. “What? Of course I love you, Y/N. I’m here, aren’t I? I went and got you out of there. I—”

“I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for you.”

Jason’s face fell, appearing as if you’d slapped him, and then his expression hardened. “What did my mother say to you?”

Your gaze remained on him. “She told me everything.” You watched as that realization played over his features and his jaw tightened. “So, yeah, I know about the stones, you and Lana…” His eyes appeared to be slightly glassy (or maybe it was the lighting from the lamp behind you) as he cocked his head a little, looking at you, yet he didn’t even try to deny it. How could he? It was nothing but the truth, and worse, his mother had been the one to tell you that truth; how was that for irony? “When you canceled our trip, when you didn’t want me to go to Paris with you, how distracted you were when you came back, how busy you were — it really explains everything, doesn’t it?” His gaze softened slightly and he briefly hung his head. “I was just too stupid to see it.”

His head snapped up. “No,” he insisted, laying a hand on your cheek. “You weren’t stupid. I was. I should have let you go the moment I met Lana in Paris.”

Even though you thought your heart couldn’t break any more than it already had these past three days, it turned out you were wrong. Your eyes began to sting as tears built up in the corners. While you already knew of his two-timing, you didn’t think he’d come right out and just say it, and in such a blase manner to boot. And how easily you would have been tossed aside, as if you’d meant nothing…that hurt.

A hurt that mirrored your own flickered across his face as he gently cupped yours. “But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” You choked out.

“Because you mean the world to me,” he murmured, placing his forehead against yours. “Because you’re what I want and I was too selfish to give you up.” He ran his nose along yours just like he used to and you involuntarily shivered. “I love you, Y/N. Always have.” His eyes dropped to your lips and when he leaned in, you pulled away and stepped closer to the table. 

“No, you don’t. If you did, you never would have put me in danger or let me become mixed up in all of this while you pursued one of my best friends behind my back. You would have just left me alone in that coffee shop,” you gritted out, a tear slipping down your cheek that you quickly wiped away. “What was the point of it all, Jason? Was I just some distraction for you that you could drop at a moment’s notice when your mother called? And Lana,” You scoffed and wiped away another tear. “It would be one thing if you actually loved her, but you’re just using her to get the stones. You’re doing the same thing to her that you did to me. You used both of us! And for what? Some ancient stones that your mother believes are supposed to give her some sort of power? So that you make Mommy Dearest happy and can go back into the unhealthy Teague fold? What’s the motivation here?”

He swallowed compulsively as you laid bare his transgressions, yet his eyes never left your face. “I never used you.”

You huffed out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

His jaw tensed but he stayed silent.

You slowly nodded and after a moment, your eyes trailed to the gun on the table between you. “So when do you use that on me? When your mother tells you to, or when you’re finally done with me?”

You heard a tiny choked sound and you glanced up to find Jason staring at you in horror. He rushed over to you, causing you to stiffen, and he gripped your face as he searched your eyes. “I would never hurt you!” Too late on that count. He watched as another tear rolled down your cheek and his expression softened. “Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” he entreated softly, wiping away the tear with his thumb. “You were never supposed to know about any of this. I kept you at a distance when I came back because I didn’t want you becoming mixed up in this. My mother, she promised she’d leave you alone if I just…” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I never wanted you to see this side of me. Ever. My plan was just to get her what she wanted, this last thing, and then I’d be free to come back here, be with you, and start over, live my life, but…” He shook his head. “I guess that’s all a moot point now, isn’t it?” A tiny smile played upon his lips, devoid of any mirth, as he let you go and turned his back to you, running a hand down his face.

You glanced once more at the gun, wondering if you should try to grab it but you weren’t sure if you were fast enough. And if you did get the gun, what then? Would you really be able to use it against him, to pull the trigger?

“If you want to walk out that door, I won’t stop you.” Your gaze snapped up to Jason’s back. “Just promise me you’ll take it with you.” You briefly flicked your eyes to the gun once more. “It’s fully loaded. And there’s plenty of cash in the bag. Take it all with you, run as far as you can until you can get safe, stay off the grid, and I’ll do everything I can to keep her from going after you. I’ll distract her with the stones, lie and say I killed you so she’s satisfied, whatever it takes.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. Run? You didn’t know how to run or stay off the grid. Maybe you’d seen something like it in a movie once, but that was fiction, not reality. Did he really think Genevieve Teague would believe his lie about you? Granted, he was good at lying as you now knew but he wouldn’t be able to fool her. Unless she was right in what she had told you, that you never really mattered to Jason in the first place, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to believe that you’d be so easily disposed of without a second thought by her son. “And how long is that supposed to buy me, Jason?” 

“There’s enough money in there for you to start over, to get a new life. You could go anywhere in the world you want. Canada, Cape Town, Tokyo, England.” At that, your eyes burned once more but you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“And my parents?” You bit out. “My life? Graduating high school at the very least?”

“You making it out of this alive is more important than any of that.” Jason let out a sad sigh. “It’s my fault you’re in this now, that you’re in danger, but I promise I never wanted this for you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I really am.” He turned his head slightly back towards you. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I always wanted to come back and have things be like the way they used to be. I miss those days more than you know,” he ended in a whisper.

“You can’t go back,” you whispered back.

You saw his shoulders drop slightly and he nodded. “I know.” His tone sounded defeated. “And that’s why you should go. But before you do, I need you to know one thing.” 

You waited for him to say whatever he was planning on saying.

“You were never a distraction. That trip to Europe we were planning, those nights under the stars, everything we talked about, us…that was the real deal.”

Your lip wobbled and you bit down into it, trying to keep the tears at bay as a memory resurfaced of you and Jason lying on the hood of his car under the clear night sky. He showed you where all of the constellations were (initially, you only knew where the Big and Little Dippers were), and you’d both spoken about each of your dreams for your lives. After you’d excitedly pointed out a shooting star, he’d told you to close your eyes and make a wish. You did and that was when he kissed you for the first time. He’d breathlessly asked you about your wish afterwards and you’d smiled right at him, saying it came true. He’d given you that bright smile of his in return and leaned in to kiss you again, murmuring, “Mine too.”

Another memory shook loose of a night you’d stayed with him. He had been staying at a local B&B over the summer before his trip to Paris. When you two began to get serious, you’d taken to spending more time with him there, even sneaking out a time or two to stay the night unbeknownst to your parents. Nothing ever happened between you during that time but he would hold you and you both would laugh and talk and just enjoy being together. One such night, you’d fallen asleep but you had a nightmare. Someone was chasing you and you were running for your life. You ran into Jason telling him that you both needed to run, but he didn’t seem to understand the danger you both were in. He seemed distracted and looking elsewhere, not at you or where you were pointing. It wasn’t long until this unidentifiable assailant caught up to you and at the last second, Jason stepped in front of you, telling you to run right before he was killed in front of you. You’d woken with a loud gasp, your scream caught in your throat, and shot right up in bed. 

Jason had immediately awoken and was trying to calm you down, to get you to breathe as he tenderly rubbed your back, and he kept telling you it was just a nightmare. You didn’t tell him what the dream entailed but you’d thrown your arms around his neck and held him close as he attempted to comfort you. Eventually, he’d laid you both back down, his hand gently running through your hair as you kept your head on his chest, your ear positioned perfectly over his beating heart to reassure yourself. 

“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he had hummed against your forehead. “I’m right here and you’re okay.” Hearing his soothing words and heartbeat, feeling the tender caresses of his hand up and down your back, you did start to drift back off, hoping against hope the nightmare didn’t continue. You weren’t sure how you’d endure a world without Jason in it, even just a dream world. Just before you’d fallen back into slumber, you’d heard him murmur sleepily to you, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You’d smiled and whispered that you loved him which caused him to smile as well and whisper the sentiment back to you. And he had — kept you safe, that is.   

And now here you were, considering taking the gun and running for your life like you had in that nightmare, though this time was real and you would now also be running from his mother, from him. How had things gone so terribly wrong in only a few months’ time? 

Another tear slipped down your cheek but this time, you didn’t wipe it away. “It was for me, too,” you admitted in a whisper.

Jason slowly turned back to you and you could see a recent tear track on his own cheek. “This was never supposed to happen,” he said softly. He drifted towards you and perhaps you were so caught up in memories that you didn’t back away or even tense up. Instead, when he laid a hand against your cheek, you leaned into it. Despite everything he’d said and done, despite how much he hurt you and your life had become a casualty due to his choices in his mother’s obsessive quest for a particular set of artifacts, your heart still yearned for him. When he moved even closer, leaning in to kiss you, you welcomed it. When more memories began to wash over you, of everything you had lost and would lose, you threw your arms around him and kissed him more passionately, tears rolling down your cheeks. Gone were the plans of you attending CKU with him; gone were the plans of you two moving in together, spending the holidays with your family, and traveling abroad to see all of the places you both wanted to see; gone was the future Jason had talked about wanting to have with you eventually down the road — all of it was just gone in a single moment of Genevieve Teague revealing who her son really was and just how much control she had over him. You supposed you hadn’t really had time to properly mourn the end of those dreams, of your relationship, everything you believed it had been — it only made sense to kiss it goodbye. Literally.

When you both broke apart for air, he laid his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered.

“Then don’t.”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Truthfully, your words surprised even you. He lifted his head and looked down at you, his brows furrowing and his face lining with a mix of suspicion and confusion. Still, his green gaze lit with a dim gleam of hope. 

“You don’t have to be this person anymore. You can give it all up and walk away. You said yourself that there’s more than enough money in that bag to start over somewhere new.” He went to say something when you framed his face with your hands, gazing up at him as earnestly as you could. “So do it. Make a different choice.”

He stared into your eyes. “Y/N,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I—”

His cell phone began to ring on the table, near the gun. You both turned to glance at it before turning back to each other. You silently pleaded with him to do as you’d suggested. He had made it sound so easy, that you could walk out that door and start all over — if it was that easy, why couldn’t he do the same? Your heart sank when he gently removed your hands from his face and began to move towards the table.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat and though your eyes burned with new tears, they didn’t fall. He watched you as he approached the ringing phone and picked it up in his hand. You felt numb as you took a step forward and picked up the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make a different choice, and it was clear that you were also screwed and needed to run like he’d told you. If his mother was calling him, then that meant she already knew he had helped you escape and she could be on her way right this second, or worse, right outside the door. You picked up the gun and you hated how it felt in your hands. It was heavy, sure, but also light enough that you could easily lift it and fit your finger inside the trigger handle at a moment’s notice. You’d never shot a gun before so you probably wouldn’t hit whatever or whoever you targeted, but at least you’d be able to wield it to an extent.

The next thing you knew, Jason hurled the ringing phone at the wall, making you jump as it loudly cracked into two pieces.

You turned wide eyes on him but he quickly approached you, his jaw clenched. For a moment, you wondered if you’d actually have to try to use the weapon in your hand to try to defend yourself, though you didn’t know if you had it in you to hurt him. Sure, you’d fight to survive, but your traitorous heart still loved him. Luckily, you were spared from having to make that decision when he snatched it out of your hand (which did make you a bit nervous at first) and cupped your face, his green eyes staring into yours, that slight hope from earlier now a blazing inferno mixed with determination. “A different choice,” he whispered, almost as if he was sounding out the words for the first time. After a moment, he gave you a slow nod, put the gun away, and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. “Let’s do it.”

“Really? You’re sure?” You breathed, your heart starting to lighten inside your chest.

A tender smile stretched across his face and he kissed you again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He kissed you one more time and took your hand, leading you to the door.

You stopped in your tracks, though, when a thought hit you. “My parents…”

“Let me get us out of here and we’ll decide what to do about letting them know you’re okay without tipping off my mother.”

You nodded, still beyond surprised that he had actually listened to you considering how tightly his mother seemed to have control over him. “Jason, are you really sure? Won’t your mother be even more upset if you leave and don’t help her with the stones? And what about Lana? I don’t want her to get—”

He laid a gentle finger on your lips and kissed your nose. “Like I said, let me get us out of here first. We’ll handle everything else after. Okay?” At your nod, he smiled again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you could go anywhere in the world today, where would you go?”

You nearly smiled at the familiar question — it was similar to the one he’d once asked you, beaming right before he’d pulled out the two tickets to London from behind his back, making your eyes widen and you practically squeal with glee before launching yourself at him and pressing kisses all over his face, making him laugh. You could see his eyes soften slightly as you realized he was reliving the same memory.

This time, you gave it some thought before answering, “Iceland.”

“Iceland?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

You nodded. “It’s supposed to be beautiful there. I’ve seen pictures and I’ve always wanted to go. Plus, it never gets fully dark there.”

He tenderly stroked your chin with his thumb. “And we could see the Northern lights when it does,” he murmured.

“We’d never be fully in the dark, there’d always be light.” You pressed your lips together and stared up at him meaningfully. “I like the sound of that.”

He ran his hand gently over your hair and his affectionate smile grew as he nodded. “Then Iceland it is.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊

[alonetimelover]

Action! - Heartbreak Anniversary- 2023

Pairings: ex!Harry Styles x Director!Reader x Joseph Quinn

Summary: Harry has an emotional and heartfelt conversation with his mother and sister. If it wasn't heartbreaking enough - to be this vulnerable and open - they had some news for him. Something that would tip the scales at the breaking point.

Warnings: it's angst. harry's not very polite. some self-degrading talk. some swear words. pregnancy is mentioned.

Word count: ~3,4k

A/N: While writing the whole thingy I was listening to this beautiful song, Heartbreak Anniversary (hence the title) by Giveon. It inspired this piece of a story, so give it a listen.

series masterlist let's talk about action!universe

“How do you feel after today’s session, Harry?”

“Pretty good. It’s - it’s nice to talk about it with someone, someone unbiased,” Harry expressed, searching for the right words. Words that would sound convincing. He knew Doctor McCanister would catch him on his lies but he needed to at least try.

“You’re lucky this session is almost over. You’re capping over and over again. You trusted me with so much from your past and present, why do you think you can’t trust me with this?”

After a solid minute of silence Harry whispered, “I don’t know. She was - she is still important to me even though she’s no longer a part of my life. Knowing it all could be different if I hadn’t done what I did. It - it’s making me overthink, reminding myself of everything I did wrong.”

“Does it work for you?”

“What?”

“Keeping it all to yourself, slowly rotting in this feeling.” She noted something down in her brown notebook. “All that emotional build-up is going to explode sooner rather than later, Harry,” Dr McCanister warned him.

“I don’t think I’m ready. I have this thought in the back of my head that if I tell anybody all that is here,” he placed his pointing finger to his temple, “and here,” moving the finger to his heart, “I’m going to lose her forever. Those thoughts and feelings are the last thing I have of her. Emotional thing.”

From the look on Doctor’s face he knew he needed to justify his words.

“Umm, I have lots of photos or her, old clothes that she’d never taken from ou- my house in LA. But they don’t bring me any - I dunno - there’s no comfort. No warmth. And when I’m thinking of her, of us, it brings me that comfort.”

“And pain?”

“I deserve it. I am responsible for our relationship ending on that bad foot, I am responsible for everything bad that happened to her after the breakup. It’s all my fault. And if a minute of comfort from the memories of her, and feelings that I still have for her cost me hours and days and weeks of sorrow and pain, then so be it. I’ll do anything to feel somehow 1% as happy as I felt with her by my side.”

It was the first time Harry spoke honestly about YN and their past relationship. It was a taboo whenever he went, even therapy. He knew the importance of speaking up about his feelings, sharing his emotions so he wouldn’t be alone to deal with them. But after losing YN, it wasn’t present in his relations with other people.

He felt like he deserved the pain. He hurt her so now he was the one to be hurt.

When they broke up - when YN broke up with him - he didn’t understand the importance she as a person had in his life. The scant and ethereal feeling succumbed him away from YN. Something new, exciting, nonroutine. Someone new fascinated him. Before he knew it, he was already gone, letting himself fall for an unknown.

He regretted it greatly, but it was too late. She moved on.

Everyone thought he moved on too. While still being in a relationship with YN, he moved on. But it was wrong. To the last day of their relationship he was faithful, and at the same time he let himself be pulled away, forget momentarily.

After calming down a little and doing a few breathing exercises with Dr McCanister, Harry left the clinic, having paid for the session.

On his way home, the phone call disrupted his Rumours listening session.

“‘Ello? I’m driving so I hope it’s important.”

“Hello my darling. Put me on speaker,” Anne said, her voice breaking here and there.

Harry did as his mum told him to, “all done. How are you, mum?”

“Good. Good. The weather is finally nice, so-"

“You didn’t call me to talk about the weather, did you?” Harry interrupted his mother, making her very audibly swallow. “Something happened?”

“No, no. Do you have some time to spare for your mother’s visit?”

“And sister’s!” Harry heard Gemma's voice shouting over Anne’s.

“Of course. I’m just going back from my appointment with Dr McCanister. I’ll be home in about 15 minutes? That’s alright with you?”

“Oh sure, sweetie. I’ve got a key to your house. We’ll just let ourselves in.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

***

When Harry got home, Anne and Gemma were already there, making themselves comfortable. Anne was making tea in the kitchen and Gemma, like always, was snooping for some new vinyls or papers with song ideas. Harry was used to leaving them everywhere.

“Hello there. To what do I owe the pleasure of having you both here?” Harry asked while walking into the living room.

“Like we can’t visit your annoying ass, brother,” Gemma laughed, smirking at pouting Harry.

“Gemma, be nice,” Anne reprimanded, walking inside the room. “Cannot we visit once in a while? We haven’t seen each other since you started the break.” She turned to her youngest child.

“I know. It’s nice to see you, mum.” Harry swiftly came up to his mother and embraced her in a bone-crushing hug, swaying from left to right. “Missed you.”

“Oh, I missed you, too, honey.”

“Ekhem,” Gemma interrupted the heartfelt moment between mother and son. “I’m here, too. And I also missed you, H.”

Harry smiled at his mother, teasingly rolling his eyes at Gemma’s words, making Anne grin at him. She loved her children so much, that seeing them being so close to each other was the best thing a mother could ask for.

“Come here.”

After the warm and longed-for siblings’ hug, and the joint one with their mother, they all moved to the patio to have the tea. Harry, unprepared for any visit, found some cookies to go with the beverages.

The weather outside was beautiful, this year's July was surprisingly warm in London. Harry’s garden was blossoming, different flowers, bushes and trees waking up to life, beautifying the area. At the same time, it needed a gardener. Since YN, no one put a foot near the beds. Weeds were slowly overcoming parts of the place.

His garden was the living epitome of him. There wasn’t a gardener good enough, good like the last one, to help.

“How was the appointment with Dr McCanister?”

Harry tensed at the question. He wanted to forget about that meeting.

“Like always. Hard.”

This time Gemma tensed. It was hurting her to see how much Harry was struggling. Years after the break up, he couldn’t get up, couldn’t find peace. He loved her too much, if that was possible.

“Did you talk about her?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“It’s not therapy anymore, mum. I’ve had one already. Talked enough about feelings.” Harry sounded frustrated, was frustrated.

“And I’m not your therapist but a mother that worries about her son.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it. Nothing. It’s - she - she’s gone. Not here anymore, she’s got her life with someone else, and I can’t stand it.” Harry hid his face in his hands, pulling at the locks of hair. The emotional build-up that Dr McCanister was talking about, making its presence known. “It’s been three years. Exactly three years. And - and I hate this day.”

Anne just sat down next to Harry, placing her hand on his back, stroking it slowly. Comforting him. He didn’t need anyone to ask questions, he needed someone to listen.

“I don’t deserve to think about her because I was the one to contribute to her leaving me. It was all my fault-”

“Harry, stop. It wasn’t-”

“No, mum. It was. It is. I didn’t cherish her. I let myself be captivated by the bliss of a relationship that I had with Olivia. I threw away three years with YN to follow the excitement of something new. It was my decision and it’s something I’m gonna regret forever. And now? Look at me? Look at her.” Harry scoffed.

“She’s happy,” said Gemma, earning an uneasy look from her mother. “And you need to accept that.”

“Easy to say not being in my shoes.”

“You’re not the only one that lost her, Harry,” Gemma said firmly.

“Gemma, not now.”

“Yes, now, mum. You,” she pointed at Harry. “You were everything to her. She got people promising her the moon, sending flowers. She didn’t bat an eye. She was in love with you. She was-”

“Don’t say that.”

“What? She was, Harry. She loved you so much. She cared about you, supported you, followed you everywhere. She was there for you any second. Any moment you needed her, she was there. And what did you do with that?”

She left the question to linger in the air. She bottled her feelings up for those three years.

YN was her best friend. Her sister. They understood each other without words. And with the break up happening, it wasn’t the same. YN didn’t feel comfortable with her or Anne as she did in the past. They still talked, met up, and had sleepovers. But it wasn’t the same.

Gemma understood that Harry losing the love of his life, by his own mistake, was hard for him. And it hurted her seeing him heartbroken. At the same time, she was angry. He hurted YN. Made her leave him. That’s at least how she understood the situation. YN didn’t talk much about the breakup with anyone.

“I screw up, alright? I know that, Gem. I know! Do you think I’m blaming her for that breakup? No! It was my fault. I drove to that. I thought I lost my feelings. I thought there was not much love between us anymore. I realised it too late. I know it! All of it. And it hurts.”

Harry before starting his monologue had stood up, and paced back and forth.

“It hurts so bad. I dream of her. I see her everywhere. Her - her things are still here, staring at me like souvenirs. I look at my phone every night, going through our pictures. Our texts, the latest that she didn’t answer. I play back the last time we were together each time before falling asleep. I remember everything that I said and didn’t say. I remember her face, the smile slowly fading. Tears strolling down her cheeks. Pain in her eyes. I remember everything.”

“Harry, that's enough. Please, sit down.” Anne tried to pull him off that self-degrading talk.

“You know what’s funny?” he asked rhetorically, sitting down on the grass. “That night at the venue, three years ago, when - when I proposed,” he sobbed softly. “I had the speech. How she made me happy and was my family, and - and how you guys treated her like a daughter and sister you’ve never had. How I appreciated her work and our relationship. And - umm - I praised her.”

Harry took a pause, breathing deeply, trying to calm down a bit. Unsuccessfully.

“I wasn’t looking at her till she stopped me. I - I couldn’t look into her eyes deep down knowing how I felt, really felt at that moment. She stopped me, asking one question.”

“Do you still love me?”

Her voice was shaky because of all the crying. He didn't look at her once today. From the moment he picked her, through the dinner they had at the restaurant and till the moment she stopped his proposals. Somewhere deep in herself she knew why he wasn’t able to look at her, but was hoping she wasn’t right. It all was going to be a nightmare. She was going to wake up next to him, sleeping soundly.

He looked at her.

And stayed silent.

YN learned that day how loud the silence could be. How definitive and thundering it could feel. Terminating.

“Do you?” she choked out.

There was no sound of the voice. Just the one of a heart breaking apart.

“She dropped my hand and left, saying she’d be out of my house in an hour. It was our house, our home. We were supposed to grow old here. To - to spend forever there.”

“Harry, honey. You need to let her go.”

“I can’t! Don’t you understand? Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to do that. It’s the last thing bringing me joy in life. She’s my antidote. Always has been, always will be.”

Gemma sat next to Harry and hugged him. He sobbed into her neck, shaking heavily. She felt his pain and regretted deeply her words that encouraged and strengthen that feeling of guilt Harry had.

Anne was sitting on the chair still, crying. It was the first time she heard the story about the engagement.

“Is she happy? Really happy?” Harry asked after calming down a little.

“She is,” answered Anne. “Joseph, he’s a good man. He treats her well.”

“Have you met?”

Gemma looked at Anne worried. They met Joseph. Went to dinner with him and YN a few times. Last time was just two days ago, when they came back from Italy.

YN wanted Anne and Gemma to know it before the pictures were uploaded. Joseph threatening paparazzi with charges bought her a few days to tell some important people in her and Joseph's lives about their secret.

“Why are you looking at each other like that? Is he really good?”

“He is,” Gemma answered immediately.

If Harry couldn’t be the one for YN, Joseph was perfect. There was something between them that no one understood. The way they looked at, understood or talked about each other was so unique, so genuine. It was heartwarming to see YN being that happy after what she had gone through with Harry.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Two days ago we met for dinner.”

“Gemma, it’s not a good time to be talkin’ about it. Please,” Anne begged, knowing the news would crush her son tremendously.

“It’s never going to be a good time, mum,” she said to her mother. It would be better if Harry learned that information from her and not the internet. “YN is taking a break from her career. For the next two or three years.”

“Why?”

“She’s pregnant,” Gemma whispered after a moment of silence.

If it was possible, they would hear Harry’s heart being ripped out of his chest and thrown to the ground. Laying there broken in a million pieces, not possible to glue back together. It was over. Now like ever, it felt real. He lost her. There was no possibility anymore, no prospect. The final curtain dropped.

“Do you want kids?” Harry asked, tracing shapes on YN’s naked back. Her head was lying on his chest, close to his heart.

“Someday, when I’m ready to be responsible for another human being. Do you?"

“I’ve always dreamt of a big family.”

“How big?”

“How big would you want?”

“Two for sure. So they would be able to take care of themselves when mum wants a quick break.”

“With dad?” He smirked.

“Stop it!” She slapped his chest playfully, looking up at him with a big smile on her face. “But maybe.”

Harry grinned at her and kissed her lips. Because of the smiling and laughing their teeth would clash, but they didn’t care. That moment they were so happy. Nothing else mattered.

“Is she - they - are they healthy? YN and the baby?” He asked finally.

“Yeah, healthy as a horse. Both of them. Pregnancy treats her well,” Anne said carefully, not knowing if Harry was going to lash out any minute.

“That’s good. That's good. It’s what matters the most, right?” It sounded like a programmed answer.

Harry gently made his mother loosen the grip she had on his shoulders. He needed to get up, to get away from people. He felt all of the emotions slowly entering his mind, his soul. Breathing started to get harder. More tears gathering in his eyes. Stabbing pain in his chest was getting more severe, but it couldn’t be his heart. He had lost it with that information.

“I - I’m tired,” he tried saying, but it sounded more like a whimper.

“Harry, my sweet boy.”

Anne walked up to him, trying to make him look at her, and failing. He dropped her hands, which had been briefly placed on his cheeks. There was no way to calm him down. No way to help him. How, if his heart wasn’t there? When the last drop of hope vanished, leaving his chest dry as a desert.

“I want to be alone.”

“You shouldn’t be. You don’t have to be alone. Please, let me - let us be here for you” his mum begged.

“I’ll call you, okay? I need to be alone, mum.”

And after more convincing from Anne, she and Gemma left. There wasn’t a chance for Harry to cave in.

The moment the front door closed, Harry sat on the floor hugging his knees to his chest. He swayed back and forth because of the sobs that were escaping his mouth. His eyes were like a river source, but a river was of tears. And it wasn’t slowing down, much less stopping. It was staining his cheeks, slowly moving to the red T-shirt he was wearing, decorating it with darker spots.

Deep down he was happy for her. After all, she always wanted to be a mother. She talked about dreaming of the family she could have, would love to have. Those times, she wanted it with him. However, they never came to the conclusion of what names were perfect. Maybe it was better for him.

He pulled out his phone from the jeans’ pocket and clicked the message icon. Was he going to text her? Yes. Was that a mistake? Yes. But he couldn’t stop typing.

Harry

Congratulations on your pregnancy, YN. Hoping the baby and you are healthy, H.

He didn’t count on the response. Considering that his previous messages to her were rather misplaced, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had blocked him. For a long time he was making decisions that he knew were wrong, that were probably hurting her current relationship. And, as bad as it sounded, and felt, it was giving him false hope. It was cruel of him. Desperation made him do things that were hurting her. And he would repeat them until the moment he realised that he was a bad guy. That when he told everybody he had never wanted to hurt her, he was still doing it.

Then the process would repeat itself.

yn🌻

Thank you, harry. We’re feeling great, baby’s healthy

And if he wasn’t surprised enough with one text, he got another.

yn🌻

Annie’s said you took a break, how is it going?

Unconsciously, he slipped into that process, hurting her again with his words.

Harry

You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I understand. Just wanted to congratulate you after mom told me about your pregnancy.

yn🌻

I think I'm mature enough to put the past in the past. Also anne is seemingly worried about you, Harry.

But if you don’t feel comfortable yet, then it’s okay. Thank you again for the message. Hope you are well.

Those two messages came in immediately after his. He wanted to write so much. Tell her how he was feeling. How lost and broken he was. Tell her how much he loved her. Missed her. Longed for her. How, every night, he dreamt of her. Happy dreams with them being content and together. And nightmares, much more frequent, where she wasn’t his. Nightmares that were blending into reality.

With his phone screen still showing those messages, he finally moved from the floor, slowly walking to the bedroom. He placed the phone on the bed and walked up to the wardrobe. From under colourful sweaters he pulled out the one he was looking for.

He laid down on the bed, and cuddled the soft material, inhaling its scent. It no longer was hers, but the fact she made it for him and wore it more frequently than him, could make up for that.

When the wind started to come through the open windows, he didn’t move. It was cold outside, like when she walked out of his life. It was cold like the day they had their first date. Like the day they met, when he thought about forever with her.

These days feel like you and me, Harry thought.

He put the sweater on, turning to the side of the bed where his phone was lying. Where she used to lay.

Harry

Do you ever think of me?

deleted

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Great War

Relationship: Druig x Eternal!Reader Warnings: Angst, canon divergence Summary: Druig had to watch you piece yourself back together after the Eternals split — and fears of facing tragedy once again rise when the Eternals end up at his doorstep. He’s determined to put you first this time, but nothing is ever that cut and dry, and you prove that. A/N: sooooooo I forgot about this one shot... Um, I believe I wrote it almost a year ago and it just sat on my computer so after some re-reading and editing, I think it’s okay to share! I hope you enjoy.

Masterlist

He watched you from a far as you gave the children a tour of the garden. He knew it was your pride and joy and your face did nothing to hide the light that shined within you when one of the kids asked a question.

You could command the crops however you pleased, and your brain was packed with facts about every single thing that grew. You could go on and on for hours—Druig could personally vouch for that. Recently, you’ve been experimenting with hybrid crops, trying to find a new species to perfect, and you kept Druig very much in the loop about your progress every night before bed.

But he didn’t mind in the slightest. He’d listen to you talk about anything so long as that look of blissful happiness was plastered on your face.

Druig wandered a little closer to the garden, not close enough to draw attention, just enough to eavesdrop on your tour. He tried to look busy like he was inspecting a row of corn, but really you had his attention. Then again, he couldn’t think of many times when you didn’t crowd his mind.

"…and here we have some cabbage," you explained. The kids following you oohed delightfully.

Ah, yes. The cabbage. Druig chuckled to himself. A vegetable that has little business growing out here, let alone this time of year. But that was just the beauty of your powers. You could make pretty much anything sprout in nearly any environment.

It had taken some convincing for you to really use your powers. You had been so concerned with if growing certain things and aiding the villagers would go against the mission. But Druig had kindly reminded you that you two were away from it all. You were helping this civilization thrive—any means necessary.

Hence, cabbage growing in the summer heat.

Druig watched as you moved the young tour group to a vacant section of the garden.

"Here is where I hope we can start growing carrots soon," you said, motioning towards the freshly plowed land.

"Carrots?" One of the children said, her voice shakily repeating the word. "What are carrots?"

Druig smirked at the flood-gate the child had unknowingly opened. You wasted no time dishing out your detailed lecture on carrots.

You were just getting into a spiel about beta-carotene when a shiver went up Druig’s spine. Something was off, and he noticed it immediately. The village had been disturbed, penetrated by an unknown. He took a quick glance back at you to make sure you were alright. When Druig saw you were still drawing on about carrots, he let out a sigh of relief and left the garden in search of what had caused such a powerful imbalance on his land.

But his hunt hadn’t been a hunt at all. The problem made itself known immediately.

They were bold, he had to give them that.

***

The young student gave you one last hug before she ran back to her parents. You had made her home your last stop as you went about dropping the students off after the tour. She was a talkative one full of complex but beautiful questions and you absolutely adored that. You wanted them to be curious, to ask as many questions as they could think of. You’d answer them all as you had for their parents when they were young. And their grandparents. And so on.

You pulled your shawl tighter around you as you made your way through the village, looking for Druig. He probably thought you hadn’t noticed him observing your tour but you must certainly had. He was hard to miss and after all these years still managed to drive you a bit wild, even when standing there doing nothing.

You scanned the various groups of villagers but couldn’t seem to find your lover among them. You frowned and stopped at a congregating group of women. They were weaving baskets.

"Has Druig been around?" You asked in their native tongue. The women looked surprised at your question.

"He’s at the Center talking to our visitor," one woman kindly explained before turning back to her work.

You frowned. Visitors? What visitors? You didn’t see casual visitors this deep inland.

You thanked the women for their time and made your way to the Center. It was a nice communal space that held a variety of events, from meetings to religious services. It wasn’t too uncommon for Druig to be held up in there during the day, but the mention of visitors drew a lot of confusion for you. Why would he invite someone in?

Druig was very cautious about outside forces, to the point you got slightly annoyed about it. You’d only been out of the village a handful of times and were always met with Druig’s intense resistance. He was incredibly protective of you, sometimes bordering the edge of controlling—but you understood why. He loved you deeply and had promised to never let anything—or anyone—hurt you again. So far, he had kept his promise. But a sense of unusual nervousness filled you as you approached the Center.

You really didn’t know what you expected to find when you pulled open the door to the Center. Part of you thought you’d find Druig working on something. Another part of you thought he’d be having a meeting with these mystery visitors.

What you hadn’t prepared for was to come face-to-face with some old…pals.

The group of Eternals turned to face you the second you opened the door. Like you, it didn’t take them long to realize who they were coming in contact with. They bore mixed expressions, surprise and relief being the most evident. Well, except for Druig. He sulked off to the side, looking displeased when his eyes landed on you, but the others paid little attention to him.

Once the shock wore off, they mostly all greeted you joyously. You couldn’t help the smile that crept its way onto your face as you soaked in this unexpected but welcomed reunion.

You didn’t think you’d ever see any of them again after the fateful night. The Split had been especially excruciating for you. The life and people you’d known, the routine and security, all vanished. You were a bit lost for a while until Druig had offered you a hand.

However, that malice and fear weren’t at the forefront of your mind right now. All you could focus on was your fellow Eternals coming together again, sharing a moment under one roof. It truly had been so, so long.

"What are you all doing here?" You asked after giving a share of hugs and happy exclamations.

Sersi, naturally, was the quickest to step up to the plate to answer your question. The light in her eyes faltered as she opened her mouth to speak, but Druig didn’t waste a second before cutting her off.

"Nothing," Druig spat. He stepped in front of you, nearly blocking your view of the others. Your brows furrowed at his commanding tone, but he didn’t give you time to retaliate. "We had some matter to discuss briefly, nothing special. They were just on their way out, actually. Why don’t you help the villagers prepare for dinner, dear."

"Dear?" It was Ikaris who spoke up now, unable to hide his surprise at the pet name that rolled off Druig’s lips naturally. But while it was Ikaris who said something, a look of surprise flashed on everyone’s face.

Druig ignored him, his focus solely on you. "Please, love."

You know you should’ve listened to your lover and usually, you do, but, in the moment, you couldn’t. You wanted to know what was going on, even though you found comfort in the village. You knew this wasn’t nothing. Stuff like this didn’t happen. You knew these fellow beings too well. The reunion happening here wasn’t for shits and giggles. And they certainly weren’t here to just check up on you and Druig. No one did that.

"Druig, come on…" Sersi pleaded.

Druig shook his head. "She’s been through enough thanks to all of you, thanks to all of us. The last thing she needs is to be put in serious danger."

Ikaris scoffed. "How about you let her speak for herself."

Druig shot the other man a glare you hadn’t seen in centuries. In fact, you hadn’t seen Druig this upset since the day you two had reunited.

"I haven’t seen you all in ages," you said, trying to keep your voice light. "I certainly am curious to know what brings you out here." You gave Druig an apologetic look but he didn’t refute. His features even seemed to get softer at your patient words.

Before anyone else could interject, Sersi gave you a rundown of it all. From the Deviants, to the true purpose of the mission, to the regretful news of Ajak. The Eternal didn’t miss a beat relaying a story she already seemed tired of sharing.

You soaked in every word, completely stunned and alarmed by the news she had to share. When she explained they needed your and Druig’s help, you tensed. You could now understand why your lover had been so reluctant.

Unfortunately, Druig was also right in the fact that you didn’t need this, didn’t want this disturbance. You had created something beautiful and familiar here and your immediate desire was to go down with this ship.

So much was at stake on both fronts, and the surprise of it all wasn’t something you wanted to wrap your head around right now. Losing this? The land? The people? Everyone? Your hands shook as you spoke.

"I…I am sorry, Sersi, but I don’t see how I can be of any help," you said as gently as you could manage. "I think I may be better off here."

"Please, we need all—,"

"What have you done to her?" Ikaris asked Druig, cutting off Sersi and making everyone in the room jump. "What are you controlling her or something?"

Druig let out a wicked laugh. "Does she look like she’s being controlled, Ikaris? Frankly, I am insulted you would even think I’d treat her that way."

"Because you’re so above controlling others."

Druig marched towards Ikaris, leaving little room between them. His voice was bitter and hot as he spoke. "I am when it comes to the one I love. How dare you accuse me of that." Druig paused as he and Ikaris stared at one another as if challenging each other to say another word. When Ikaris didn’t reply, Druig took half a step back and turned to the group. "I think you all have overstayed your welcome, don’t you agree?" He looked around expectantly, but no one moved.

Cautiously, you broke the heavy silence. "This has truly been a lot for one afternoon. Maybe we should take some time to think. We can regroup later."

After an unsettling moment of everyone watching Druig like he was a ticking bomb, he agreed with your proposal. The others were quick to follow suit and, not surprisingly, looked relieved to have a moment out of the stuffy Center.

You happily showed the group where you gathered for meals, hoping they’d at least want a snack after trekking all the way out here. You enjoyed your dinner among the people and your friends and tried your best to refrain from bragging about the vegetables in the stew that came from your garden. You failed at that, but everyone seemed impressed with your crops. Druig held your hand through the entire meal, successfully but bitterly avoiding the questioning looks of the other Eternals. It had not been missed by you that you two were yet to explain your dynamic and how it came to be. Sure, a little flirting had occurred prior to The Split, but declarations of love must’ve been a confusing step.

But it was good. The moment was good and the evening was ultimately enjoyable. The villagers loved conversing with the guests. They were so welcoming and curious. The food was lovely. The company was lovely. The atmosphere was lovely. Was this all truly in jeopardy? How could it come to this? You didn’t like having your heart heavy with this.

Couple of hours later, after you finished assisting with the cleanup, you found yourself sitting under a tree, away from the bustling village, snacking on some berries. You weren’t alone for long, though, as you saw Sersi make her way through the dense trees.

"How are you doing?" She asked as she took a seat next to you on the ground.

"Okay," you said noncommittally. You held out your hand, presenting a few berries. "Would you taste these? I can’t decide if they need to be sweeter."

Sersi chuckled. "Is this a ploy to poison me?"

You shivered. "I haven’t dealt in that in centuries."

One area of your powers you had always held back on was the way that, while you could grow the most delicious crops, you could also grow the most deadly. But there was no need to unleash that anymore. It did little to help the village.

"Alright," Sersi said with a shrug and took the berries. "But if they find my body out here, they’ll probably look at you first."

You nodded. "That’s fair."

Sersi tossed the berries in her mouth. She hmm’d. "So," she began, "you and Druig?"

"Yes," you replied to her question that wasn’t a question. Part of you hoped that would be that but Sersi’s unwavering stare made it clear she wasn’t walking away without the whole story. This came as no surprise.

You took a deep breath and began. "After Ajak sent us off I was…lost. So very lost. Everyone else just made their decisions and went on. I—I didn’t know where to go, where to begin. I had known one way, one goal, for as long as I could remember and now everything was upside down. Everyone went their own way. I felt left behind." You paused to take a deep breath. You hadn’t spoken of such things with anyone but Druig, but, then again, no one had been around to hear it. To ask.

"It took a couple of years, but I eventually came upon Druig," you continued. "He admitted he had tried looking for me but I was the only one off his radar. He then apologized for storming away. I shared my feelings on the situation—on The Split—and the villagers welcomed me. I’ve rarely left since. Over time, our usual flirting and banter grew. He’s just… He’s just it for me. He’s so kind and caring. He’s taken care of me in so many ways and I truly couldn’t ask for a better partner. Up until today, I believed in fate. But maybe this was all just part of the plan. I could do without the pain and feeling…deserted but, in the end, this love has been good to me."

Sersi was silent as you spoke. She grew still beside you. Your spite had mostly subsided, but you still felt it was important to share, especially if dooms day was upon you. And while you had, for the most part, moved on and adapted, you knew Druig still held a bit of a grudge. Not to mention the anger he felt towards himself for leaving you, but over the years, you tried your best to ease his shame.

"Well, I—I didn’t— We, we didn’t…" You watched Sersi scramble to find the right words but her lack of reasoning wasn’t a bad thing. There was nothing to say.

"It’s okay," you assured her. "I’ve moved on. I’ve even made peace with all of it, I think." You looked back down at your basket of berries. "But there is someone who hasn’t quite come around to the idea of forgive and forget."

Sersi nodded. "Druig never quite seemed like the one to entertain such ideas."

"Please excuse his animosity towards the situation." You paused. "About earlier…"

"We do need you, truly," Sersi said. "I understand it’s frightening and you’re welcome to despise us but think about this place." She looked up at the trees and moonlight surrounding you two. "Everything’s so wonderful. The people, the place, the home you two have built. Don’t you at least want a shot to fight for it?"

You looked at the landscape around you. At the trees. The berries. The homes off in the distance. You hear the chatter of the villagers. The blow of the wind. The hum of the nighttime creatures. You closed your eyes, recounting the dinner, how nice it had felt to have so many of your friends together again. You wanted that all over again. You wanted this home you built.

"I think I was overwhelmed by all this…news," you explained. "And at first, I didn’t want anything to do with…anything. If the world was ending, I wanted to be here, in my home, but now… I don’t believe I can sit idly and let this place, these people, vanish." You opened your eyes. "More importantly, I can’t let my friends, my family, down."

Sersi took a moment and pattered your hand. "I’m relieved to hear that. You’re important, you’re valued. We can’t do it without you."

You shared a shy smile. "Well, I’m glad you’re happy about my decision. Lord knows how Druig is going to react."

"He’s shocked," a voice said from among the forest. You and Sersi whipped your heads around to find Druig walking out from behind a group of trees.

"I’ve never known you to eavesdrop so much, honey," you said, trying to keep the situation casual, but you were practically shaking.

Druig approached you two slowly. "Forgive me, my lady. I had only come to suggest we retire for the night. I certainly hadn’t expected to find you…conspiring," He shot a look at Sersi, who held her head high.

You sighed. "Druig, please…"

Sersi turned back to you. "I think you two should talk."

You hesitated but eventually agreed. Sersi avoided Druigs heated gaze as she left, heading back to the village. Druig took Sersi’s former spot next to you under the tree.

"You truly want to do this?" Druig asked softly, a stark contrast from his previous demeanor. "After everything, you want to help? You think we have a chance?"

"We have to try," you said. "For this. For us."

Druig took your hands in his. You turned to face him finding him very close. Your foreheads were practically touching. He stared into your eyes like you were all that existed and, for a second, it felt like that.

"I can’t bare to see you hurt again, love," he said. "And if we do this, there’s no telling what will happen after. There’s not even a guarantee we’ll make it out alive—,"

"That’s why we try," you pleaded. "And I’m aware this reunion may mean nothing. We’ll all probably go our separate ways again and that’s fine. I have a place to go back to. I have a routine and a garden and goals… But above all else, I have you. And with all that, I think I’ll be okay."

Druig searched your expression like he was expecting you to change your mind, but when nothing else left your lips, he nodded in defeat.

"If this is what you wish to do, I’ll follow you." He brought one of his hands up to caress your cheek. "I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. It was uncalled for and you always have the right to make your own decisions, do you understand that?"

"I know that, Druig. You were just being your protective self."

"That’s obvious?" He said with a humorless laugh. "I just want to see you happy, love."

"I am happy, Druig," you said, your eyes starting to well with tears—the good kind. "Happier than you’ll ever know."

[ur-mousey]

I'll Make You Miss Me ~

Imagine - Jude Duarte x Singer! Cardan Greenbriar (Song inspo linked ⬇️)

Imagine! Cardan Greenbriar, the High King of Elfhame, sitting alone on his throne. The crown made of thorns felt heavy upon his head, a constant reminder of who he'd banished. The grand hall emptied of its accord. However, in the wake of their presence, where diplomats lose their inhibition at his feet, Cardan never felt more abandoned.

He was without Jude, his wife, whom he had sentenced to a mortal life. She was his beautiful and most terrifying love, but Cardan knew deep down that she belonged elsewhere from this place. 

It was selfish of him to believe otherwise. She was a queen, robbed of her status by her wicked king. Why would she return for him?

Imagine! It has been months since Cardan's riddle went unsolved. He drove himself mad, over-analyzing why his letters were left discarded. He left himself painfully sober for days. Torturing himself to come up with a lure. He missed her lying whims. I hate you, were her whispers of promise. He hated that their marriage started on a sour note. 

Cardan never even came close to matching her strength. What if she wholly decided to leave Elfhame and him entirely? He doubted that age would fog his memories of her. And, even if it would be fatal to resist, he vowed to cradle his obsession between the pages of Alice in Wonderland as he had done through their childhood. 

Imagine! Living through boring meetings where thoughts of Jude pressed heavily on your mind. The surrounding diplomatic dribble was doomed to fall on deaf ears. 

Cardan sought distractions from his quill and parchment whenever his emotions overwhelmed him. He felt the constant restlessness of yearning for Jude's return. It was a feeling that gnawed at him day in and day out until he could take it no longer. Down in this cellar, where his love became realized, he could hardly but briefly assume that his wife would come to protect him from his woes.

"Jude's absence makes you worry." The Bomb noted as she stirred her brandy lazily. Her voice rang sympathetic and in tune with the ice cubes clinking against glass. Cardan halted his shuffling of cards, the room's silence now keenly felt.

Cardan dealt the cards with ease and confidence among the Court of Shadows, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "I'm obvious, aren't I?" he quipped as if talking to no one in particular. However, his mirth quickly faded as he continued, "Jude hasn't yet responded to a single letter of mine. I'm afraid."

The Roach hummed, reaching for his cards. "If letters don't reach her, your voice will."

Imagine! Despite the dark circles under her eyes caused by sleepless nights, Jude forced herself to get up from the couch and walk to the window. She craved the fresh air to clear her mind and drive away her growing hatred towards everything related to Elfhame.

"I'll make you miss me~" The haunting melody danced over the bend of the wind. She recognized the voice of Cardan singing the tune and the realization that he was desperate. The thought both excited and frightened her.

.............................. Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! I am currently taking in ideas 🥳 This idea has been shoved to the back of my mind so I'm glad to have written it. And Holly Black stated that Valerian has sexual feelings towards Jude... It makes me hate him much more however, fanfic idea.

>>> NEXT FOLK OF AIR POST: Valerian x Jude x Cardan (hence toxicity)

This was a different writing style to what I usually do so we'll see how it does. I'll probably make another one for JJK because I've engaged more with that fandom. I quit my job a few weeks ago and it's gotten to me so much that I needed a break from the blog. On happier notes, I'm getting out of the house more. Gone on two dates which has been great!!!

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Twenty Two

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 7,397

The summer cookout is a time for joy and relaxation (and some much needed alone time for you and Joel!)

But nothing in this world is ever permanent...

We're ramping up the smut a little in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy! (Also when he says "You imagined it?" I immediately thought of the sweet, eager way he said "You got me a present?" to Sarah in the first episode. Hence the gif choice!)

Come Home

Chapter Twenty Two - The Happening

The summer cookout in Jackson was anticipated with just as much excitement and fanfare as the Winter Dance. Every time you moved through the town you would hear snatches of conversation about it – the decorations that were to be hung, the dishes to be made, hopes that the good weather would hold out.

That you and Joel would be attending together was no secret of course, but you had also decided to pool your resources and bring a selection of food between you. He had also promised you a surprise, and in your excitement you found yourself asking about it almost as frequently as Ellie had asked about her birthday, but he was as tight lipped now as he had been then.

What he didn’t know was that you had an ongoing secret plan of your own. Since Mrs Drew had allowed you access to her sewing machine you had been working on a project – a summer dress that you hoped would drive him wild. You had searched through the clothing supplies in the central stores of Jackson and eventually found something that looked like it might have once been a nightgown. It was powder blue and very long, with an empire neckline and long sleeves. You had removed these, cut and hemmed it so that it would sit mid-thigh instead, and were currently in the process of taking in the waist so it was more form fitting.

Mrs. Drew had not been shy about voicing her opinions.

“Your young man is going to have difficulty keeping his hands to himself!” she had cackled.

“He’s fifty three!”

“If he’s young enough to get excited by you in that dress, he’s young,” she had insisted, making you laugh.

Shoes were the only thing you were slightly concerned about, as you really didn’t want to wear your boots, but Vanessa came to the rescue when you told her what you were planning. She was due to ride out to inspect the town that you and Joel had delivered supplies to all those months back, and she promised she would try to find something suitable for you. She returned with a pair of plain black ballet pumps, jewelled sandals that were surprisingly intact and some silver stilettos that were absolutely beautiful but that you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk in after years of practical footwear.

The day of the cookout you’re up early to make potato salad, roasted vegetables and a buttery oat and blueberry traybake. Your front and back doors are wide open to counter the heat from your kitchen and Ellie flits between your house and Joel’s, assisting and hampering your progress in equal measures.

“Hey!” you say as she nabs yet another piece of potato salad. “Not cool! There won’t be any left if you keep this up!”

“She robbin’ you blind too?” come Joel’s gravelly tones from your doorway.

“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re both good cooks,” Ellie says after swallowing.

“Your flattery will get you nowhere, missy,” you reply jokingly, re-covering the potato salad from where she had opened it up.

“What about my flattery? Will that get me anywhere?” Joel asks smoothly as he enters your kitchen, a distinctly flirtatious tone to his voice.

“Annnd that’s my cue to leave,” Ellie says, jumping up from her seat.

“Hey, it worked! The food is safe once more,” Joel grins.

“You dick!” Ellie rolls her eyes before departing from the same door Joel came into. “I’m just gonna eat your food now!” she calls back as she walks away.

“I do not doubt that,” Joel mutters before planting a kiss on your cheek. “Which means I gotta go stop her. That girl is like a plague of locusts all on her own! I just wanted to see if you needed any help with anything.”

“Thank you, but I’m good,” you say turning to him and clasping your hands around the back of his neck. “Might need some help carrying it into town, that’s all.”

“People are gonna start getting’ there around three or so. I’ll come by then?”

“Sounds good to me,” you say leaning up to kiss him, excited anticipation thrumming through you at the thought of his reaction to your outfit.

It does look good, you have to admit. Another little piece of life past that you thought had been permanently buried and that Jackson was allowing to shine through again. The heels were more comfortable than you had anticipated, though you didn’t doubt that you would be cursing them after a few hours. You decided upon the sandals instead, promising yourself to give Joel a more private viewing of the stilettos another time. The empire neckline is very flattering, skimming the top of your bra in just the right way that you show a little cleavage, but won’t feel too exposed. You grab a cardigan too, in anticipation of the evening time chill, and in case you start to feel self-conscious about the scarring that can partially be seen on your upper shoulder. The wounds have healed as well as can be hoped, but still stand angrily against the rest of your skin.

Just as you’re finishing packing up the food into bags, a knock comes at the door and Ellie enters.

“You ready?” she’s saying before she’s even inside. “We’re gonna-wow!”

“I’m hoping that’s a good ‘wow’ and not a ‘what the fuck are you thinking’ one,” you grin.

“Dude, you look great! Where have you been hiding that?”

“Thank you! I made it. Thought I could try to make myself look decent for once instead of stomping around here covered in manure and hay!”

“Joel’s gonna lose it,” she grins, and then catches herself, her nose wrinkling as a faint look of disgust passes over her face. “You guys can stay the hell away from me tonight,” she adds, a jibing tone softening her words.

“Fair,” you agree. “Let’s go.”

Joel has his back to your house as you emerge from it and close the front door, Ellie thundering down the steps ahead of you. He turns as he hears the noise, and you see the precise moment that all thought leaves his brain. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly as he sees you and you try very hard not to laugh and ruin the effect you’re having on him, choosing instead to pretend you had no idea that he was currently short circuiting inside.

You make your way daintily down the steps, swaying your hips just a little more than came naturally as you moved and setting the light cotton material to brushing against your bare thighs.

“Ready to go, Miller?” you purr.

“Uhh…uh yeah. Yeah,” he replies, sounding a little dazed.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “This is gonna be a long night,” she mutters darkly.

From your peripheral vison, you see Joel’s eyes consistently sliding over on the walk to town, drawn inexorably to you. Every time they do, he stares for a few moments before coming to himself and dragging his gaze away to focus on the path ahead again. The thrill of power rushes through you and wonder how long it will be before he finally snaps and drags you away from the party for a little one on one time.

The town is bustling and jovial. Streams of homemade bunting twine down pillars and flutter from the roofs, waving gaily in the soft summer breeze. Laughter and chattering voices are raised above the strains of exuberant fiddle playing, the hiss and sizzle of cooking meat underpinning it all. The smells are gorgeous, chicken and sweet barbeque and woodsmoke all coming together to hurl you back to a more civilised time. You approach the already heaving trestle tables to add your contributions where you are intercepted by Vanessa and Chloe who draw you into hugs one after the other, and who fuss over your dress and praise your sewing skills.

The long afternoon changes to early evening almost imperceptibly. Everyone is laughing and smiling and there are more than a few loud conversations as the alcohol and food flow through the populace. You and Joel draw together and break apart, floating on the tides of friendship and laughter as you circulate through the crowd. Whenever he is next to you his hand invariably finds its way into yours, or on to the small of your back or around your shoulders, and his gaze lingers long on your eyes, your face, your body. His own eyes are full of smiles and a softness that makes your chest fill to over brimming with breathless excitement.

Ellie comes and goes too, but you notice she is sticking particularly close to the girl with the lotus tattoo that you had seen at the movie night. After a bathroom break, you emerge from the bar to find them talking outside. You edge closer to them, not wanting to disrupt their evening, but curious to know if this is the famed tattoo artist you had heard about. Ellie spots you and waves you over.

“Good evening?” you ask.

“Pretty good, yeah,” she replies casually. “This is Cat,” she adds.

“Hi,” you say, introducing yourself with a wave. “Nice to meet you. Am I right in thinking that you’re our resident tattoo expert?”

“Expert is a strong word,” Cat says with a laugh. “But I have a little studio set up at home. Why, you want another?"

“I’m thinking about it,” you admit. “How would I go about paying you?”

“You made that traybake, right? I could go for more of that. Like…a LOT more. It’s damn good! And Ellie told me you know how to knit. Could you teach me?”

“Of course. Come by any time. And I don’t know if you go on patrol but if you ever want something from outside let me know. As soon as I can get back out there I’ll try to find whatever it is.”

A pained expression passes over Cat’s face. “Yeah, I heard about your accident. Sounded rough.”

“Not infected, not dead,” you shrug. “Could have been much worse.”

You spend a few minutes showing Cat your various tattoos, exclaiming over hers and telling her about parlours from before the world fell, but you get the feeling Ellie would prefer to be alone with her, so before too long you make your excuses and wander off to find Joel. On the way you stop to root through a cooler packed with ice, eventually drawing out a couple of cold beers for you both.

You spy him from afar – those broad shoulders are hard to miss, even in a crowd. He is talking to Tommy, and from this distance and with them stood so close together you can see the familial resemblance more and more - the carelessly curly hair, the broad shoulders, their noses and eyes.

Tommy spots you approaching and tips his beer bottle toward you in greeting. Joel’s grin grows wider as he looks up sees you too, and he mutters something to Tommy that makes him smile as well. He claps Joel heartily on the shoulder and moves away before you reach him, leaving the two of you alone.

You hand Joel his beer and clink the neck of it delicately against your own before taking a sip.

“So…how you doing, Miller?”

You can see the struggle within him but try as he might, Joel’s eyes still slide down your body, catching on the swell of your breasts at your neckline, the way the hem of your skirt brushes your thighs, your bare legs.

“Joel?” you prompt after a full ten seconds of silence.

“Yes!” he says, his eyes snapping back to yours and his voice forceful with an “I was definitely paying attention” note to it.

“I asked if you’re okay,” you giggle, sliding your arm around his waist and looking up at him.

“Oh you know I ain’t,” he grins. “Since someone decided to wear the prettiest damn dress I’ve seen in years. Where did you even get that?”

“Made it,” you say casually. “I was hoping you’d like it. Also it’s keeping me nice and cool right now.”

“Not me,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over you hungrily again. “I am feelin’ distinctly warm.”

“We can erm…we can go to the stables? I mean if you want,” you offer, raising a cheeky eyebrow at him.

“I got a better idea. Time for your surprise I think.”

He grabs his backpack from where it rests beside one of the tables before catching hold of your hand and beginning to lead you away from the main thoroughfare of Jackson toward the fields of pasture that you were working in and around so regularly these days. He guides you decisively to a particular one of them, leading you to believe that he has reconned this particular mission thoroughly. The field he enters is on a slight incline, giving you a magnificent overview of the vastness of the setting sun in the evening sky whilst also affording you a degree of privacy from the rest of Jackson as you walk down it a little way.

“Here’s good,” Joel says as he stops, hands you his beer to hold, drops his pack to the ground and begins to rummage through it.

He produces a large, checkered blanket in red and white which he lays upon the ground, putting his pack at one end in case an errant gust decides to try to carry it away. As you kneel at the other end he takes out a Tupperware box and takes off the lid to reveal a pile of large, ripe strawberries that he places reverently on the blanket. A bundle that looks very much like one of his t-shirts emerges next, from which he produces two wine glasses that were nestled within and which he also places down carefully. Finally, he lifts a wine bottle from his backpack, along with a corkscrew. He uncorks the wine to breathe and places it on the ground, flattening the grass and pressing it firmly into the dirt so it doesn’t tip over.

The grin on your face is wide and joyful and he matches it as he looks down at you.

“I realised,” he says slowly, grunting as he lowers himself on to the blanket next to you, “that we have never been on a proper date. And I just could not let that slide.”

“Glad I accidentally dressed for the occasion,” you smile as you lean forward to kiss him softly. “And you certainly know how to pull out the stops, Miller.”

“You like it?”

“It’s perfect,” you assure him.

He lies down, propped up by one elbow. You seat yourself next to him, tucking your legs under you to one side and resting your hand on his hip after you give him his beer.

“Here’s to our first date,” you say, clinking the beer bottle against his again.

“Our first date,” he echoes. “And to you. For…for givin’ me another chance. You woulda been well within your rights to never speak to me again. But you did and-“ He takes a deep breath, and you can see him mentally fortifying himself to continue speaking. “-and I ain’t been this happy in a long time.”

The sincerity of his words and the fact that he is sharing his feelings openly like this blindsides you, temporarily causes your brain to stall and the feelings within you to amplify and stutter within your chest with how overpowering they are. Your first thought is of how you feel the same way, how his presence in your life has reignited feelings you swore were dead and buried years ago, and how you can tell him that without it sounding trite or like you were just echoing his sentiments for the sake of it.

Your second thought is of how you supposed you could have never spoken to him, but deep down you know that had never been a real option. You had missed his company so desperately when he hadn’t been around, and now that you are thinking about it more fully, you realise that period had been the first real glimpse into the profundity of the emotions that were now so present in your everyday life. That the absence of him had left such a gaping chasm so quickly had led to the inescapable and frankly terrifying conclusion that you had come to depend on him. And that having him here with you like this felt so fucking perfect, so fucking right was swiftly leading you to another that was equally alarming. But you can’t find it in yourself to allow those anxieties to enter this moment. Not when he’s lying right in front of you looking so handsome, with one hand resting against his head and his fingers disappearing and reappearing within the salt and pepper of his hair, the other hand grasping his beer bottle like a lifeline and rubbing his thumb over it in nervous movement.

“Say somethin’?” he says and there’s a note of pleading that you have never heard in his voice before. You realise you’ve been silent for a long time, just staring at him, and as he raises his eyes to you there’s another first. The openness and pure vulnerability in those warm chocolate depths delivers a sucker punch to your heart, and you can do nothing in this moment except lean forward and kiss him. Its soft and slow, and you feel as if you’re somehow juggling both his heart and yours, desperate not to drop them, aching to make him understand how deeply he affects you, yearning to make him feel happy every single day.

You draw back and stroke your thumb over his whiskered cheek as you cradle his face in your hand and this time you steel yourself to speak.

“There…was never another choice,” you admit quietly. “You make me so happy, Joel. You always have. Except well…you know.” He drops his eyes to his beer bottle again, his face closing off a little in his shame. “I never thought we’d end up like this,” you continue. “I just wanted my friend back. But having you this way…it’s better than I ever imagined.”

“You imagined it?” he asks, his eyes snapping to your face again eagerly.

“Yes, idiot, I imagined it,” you say, unable to stop the smile that slides across your face.

“Well, I did too,” he confesses, his hand leaving the beer bottle to take yours. “Especially after you asked me to stay that night.”

You groan and close your eyes against the memory of your drunkenness.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I uh…I woke up in the night and I was cuddling you.”

“I know,” he smiles softly. “I woke up too when you put your arm round me and pushed yourself against my back. I didn’t know if I should try to move away, but I realised that I really didn’t want to. No regrets. Best damn night’s sleep I’d had in years.”

You drain your beer and place it to the side before lying down next to him, mirroring his position with your elbow propping you up.

“Well,” you sigh, sliding your hand around his waist. “I say we should have a repeat performance then. In the interests of a good night’s sleep of course.”

“Oh of course,” he frowns, all mock seriousness until the sunshine of his smile breaks through again.

“Can’t promise I’ll be quite so hands off this time though,” you add, slipping your hand under his t-shirt to stroke over his bare skin.

“Oh I’m countin’ on it,” he rumbles as he rolls forward, gently pinning you to the blanket and kissing you sweetly.

The strawberries are delicious, perfectly ripe and juicy. So ripe in fact that one almost explodes as you bite into it, the pink juice running down your chin and dripping on to the top of your breast. Luckily, Joel is there to catch it with his thumb, the pad sliding smoothly on your skin, up the slope of your breast, and making you shiver.

“Can’t be ruinin’ that pretty dress,” he winks at you as he sucks the sweetness from his finger.

The wine is also delicious, but much stronger than you had anticipated and you’re glad he only brought one bottle with him. You drink and eat and chatter and laugh together. He is glorious by the light of the long-setting sun – his skin seeming to glow golden in its hazy, warming light, his arms all sinuous muscle as they prop him up, his face less laden with worries than you ever remember it being, and his smile wide and insistent and true.

“What’s the best date you ever went on?” you eventually ask, the buzz of alcohol flowing through you and removing some of the barriers to your curiosity about him.

“This one. Obviously,” he smiles. “But before…I guess it was probably with Sarah’s mom. In fact, I think it was the night that Sarah was…y’know…made.”

The snort that you make is in no way attractive, but you can’t help it. “Made?!”

“Conceived then. I dunno how to say it without soundin’ stupid,” he grins. “But that night…well I dunno if it even counts as a proper date really. But it sure was memorable. We’d had a fight. We fought a lot back then. Always somethin’ stupid, I don’t even remember what it was about this time. And I was so tired. Of fightin’ and from the day and I just needed to get outta there. Outta that apartment, outta that situation. So there she is, lookin’ at me like I pissed in her cereal after screamin’ blue hell at me, and I just grab her hand and walk. She asks me where we’re goin’ and I say I don’t know. And we just got in the car and drove. Windows down, music up. Ended up singin’ along and laughin’ together and it was like the fight never even happened. We made it to this little place on the edge of the city, overlookin’ it and we just sat on the hood together and watched the lights.”

“That sounds pretty romantic actually.”

“It was. Until it started rainin’.”

“Ah but you see, you forget that I know what you look like caught in the rain. No wonder she couldn’t resist you. I know I couldn’t.”

Joel smiles and looks down at the blanket, and the sweet self-consciousness of his expression makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“C’mere,” he says, taking your wine glass and placing it on the ground next to his own. He draws you down, wrapping one arm around you so you’re lying next to him with your head on his shoulder. The sky above you has faded from a rosy gold to a chillier lilac, the first brightest stars already appearing, and the breeze is still warm and welcoming as it gently whispers across your skin.

“So what was your best date?” he asks. “Apart from this, of course,” he adds cheekily.

“Six month anniversary with Alex,” you reply, and then immediately freeze. The words had just slid right out, no hesitation, no stumbling over her name. To cover your shock you turn on your side, nestling closer to Joel and placing your hand over his chest. He takes it, covering it over with his and lacing his fingers with yours.

It's bizarre, this feeling. A warring within of two versions of yourself. The person that you had held on to for so many years, that had been so deeply affected by what had happened, by what you had seen and done, the part that made you sleep in a bathtub, that closed your airways at the mere thought of her name. And then this you – here and now, lying peacefully on a hillside at sunset with the man that you were falling in love with. And you knew now for a certainty that you were. Your thoughts around him were tinged with brightness, his smile made you weak, the mere touch of his skin upon yours was electric. He made you feel safe and wanted and like you were something he had been desperately missing, though you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He had been happy before you came, as far as you could tell. Happy in Jackson with his family. Still…the way he looked at you, the way he kissed you, the way he wanted to be close to you. It all spoke to an acute need within him that you were fulfilling. And you hoped with every fibre of your being that it was true.

“What did you do?” he asks softly.

You know you could back out. You could tell him that you couldn’t talk about it, or even that you didn’t want to and you know he would respect that and nothing would change between you. But for the first time in as far back as you can remember you want to say something about her. You want to share openly and honestly, to feed that part of you that connects with him and allow the closed off part of you to wither away and die. And you want to supplant the final memories you have of her, replace them with happier and more vibrant times. You take a deep breath and ground yourself in the feeling of Joel surrounding you before you speak again.

“We went to the carnival. She…she was studying medicine at the time and she was always stressed out and overworked. But that evening we went and we just had an entire evening of fun. I won her a giant stuffed dragon at one of the games almost as soon as we got there and she had to carry it with her the whole time. It came with us on the rides and everything. We nearly made ourselves sick with the amount of funnel cake we ate. And then we sat on the pier and watched the sun set. It was just us you know? Like no one else existed.”

“I think I have an inklin’” Joel says, the rumble of his low voice vibrating through you as he holds you tighter to him. It is like that here, you realise. The strains of the sounds of the cookout are almost fully muted by the buildings and expanse of pasture between you and the others. All you can hear are the birds, the breeze, Joel’s breathing and heartbeat. You might as well be the only two people on earth.

“Thank you for doing this,” you whisper, your voice emerging much softer than you had intended.

He kisses your forehead, the whiskery brush of his beard a little ticklish against your skin.

“Any time, sweetheart.”

You lie there together in peaceful silence for a while, enjoying the evening birdsong, the warmth of his body, the comforting scent of him surrounding you. Perhaps it was the beauty of your surroundings, or simply having him so close, but you didn’t feel the way you thought you would about sharing some of your past with him. You felt more rounded, more whole. As if a damaged part of you was slightly less jagged and no longer rubbing other parts of you raw.

The stars are shining more fully now as the sun gives way to the twinkling darkness and you point out the constellations you know and can see to each other. Joel is surprisingly knowledgeable, and he admits that he’s been doing his homework to be able to talk to Ellie more deeply about the thing she loves.

You turn your face away from the sky in favour of looking at him beside you. His hair is ruffling softly in the breeze, his eyes seem black in the fading light. You want to tell him how you feel, how much he means to you in this moment and always, but your words have been robbed from you by how truly beautiful he is. But your silence doesn’t matter. He turns on his side to face you more fully and you see it in his eyes too. He’s looking at your face as if he never wanted to look anywhere else again and his hand is warm against your skin as he cradles your jaw and strokes his thumb over your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch and press your lips to his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.

“Never been called that before,” he smiles.

“You are,” you insist. “The most beautiful man. And not just because of this.” Bringing your own hand to his face you trace the lines of his forehead, how the skin of his temple and cheek turn to coarse hair, the warmth and plumpness of his lips. “Because you care. And you let people know that you care. Generous. Kind. Thoughtful.”

Before you can continue your litany he surges forward and kisses you slowly and deeply, his breath hot against you. Your mind blanks on whatever else it was you wanted to say. All you can concentrate on is him, so close and so present. His nose brushes over yours before he kisses that too, and your forehead and all over your cheeks and even your chin before he returns to your lips. There’s an urgency about him now, something of iron at the heart of the affection and when he runs out of breath you pull away slightly to look at him again.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“It’s…it’s nothin’,” he says softly. “I just…I find it hard to hear that. It’s not how I see myself. All the things I’ve done…” He trails off, and the furrow that has appeared at his brow near breaks your heart.

“It’s how I see you,” you say softly as you cup his face. “I don’t care about what you’ve done. I don’t care about who you were before Jackson, before everything. I care about you now. This person in front of me.”

“But if you knew-“

“I can guarantee that what you’ve done, I’ve done. It’s just how it is now. None of us can go back to who we were. But I want this Joel. Right now, here with me. If I don’t have to be shy with you, you don’t have to hide from me.”

A look of wonderment creeps into his expression. He looks like he wants to say something but that the words won’t come, and after a few moments you take pity on him instead of trying to make him fill the silence.

“You wanna know what I called you in my head before I knew your name?” you smile.

“Ooof, do I wanna know?!” he replies.

“Ruggedly Handsome,” you confess. He snorts a laugh and presses his forehead against your cheek as the ripples of humour run through his body.

“Aw, that’s cute,” he teases, still half laughing as he drags his head up to face you again. “You were Blanket Girl to me at first.”

“Blanket Gi-Joel that’s the worst name I’ve ever heard!” you say indignantly.

“You looked cute all wrapped up in those blankets!” he protests, trying to defend himself. “It stayed with me. Besides, I’m not sure anything can compete with Ruggedly Handsome!”

He joins in with your laughter, the sound loud and joyful in the midst of the quiet of the summer night. As the sound dies away, the humour also fades from his eyes, replaced with urgency and truth.

“You really do look amazin’ you know,” he says softly. “Every day. Not just today.”

“So do you.”

“What? This old thing?” he chuckles, clutching at the hem of his shirt.

“Yes,” you affirm, covering his hand with yours and stroking the skin of his stomach softly. “In everything. And in nothing too, I’ll bet,” you add, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“We’ll have to test that theory one day,” he hums as he rolls toward you, propping himself up on one elbow and caressing your cheek with his other hand.

The weight of him above you is everything you want right now, and you look deeply into the darkness of his eyes before you lean up and kiss him, soft heat flaring within you as your lips meet. Your hands are in his hair, running through his waves as you pull him closer, running your tongue over his bottom lip before he opens to you with a rumbling hum. He’s already half hard and before he can scoot backward to put some distance between you, you trail your hand down his back to the curve of his ass, kneading the firm muscle before pulling him closer to you, feeling him swell further against your thigh.

His hand trails down your cheek, your neck, your chest, and you emit a needy little noise against his mouth as his finger brushes your hardened nipple.

“Fuck, I love hearin’ you,” he whispers fervently.

“I wanna hear you,” you reply just as urgently as you bring your hand around to stroke over the front of his jeans. He exhales sharply at your touch and takes a shuddering breath in as you run your fingers up and down his shaft within the denim before lightly skating upward to where the trail of hair from his belly button disappears behind the button of his jeans.

When you begin to fumble with it, he draws back so he can see you more fully.

“You sure?” he asks, his voice breathless and unsteady.

“I wanna touch you,” you say in a voice that’s half a moan already. He rests his weight on one hip to help as you flick his button open and draw the zip down, releasing him from where he has been confined. You stroke your fingers softly over the magnificent tenting in his boxer briefs, a shiver of excitement passing through you and ending up somewhere between your legs.

It's too dark to see him properly, but you can feel the circular patch of wetness on his underwear and it stokes the simmering inside to a furnace. He’s brushing his lips over your neck as you run a finger around the elastic, dragging it down to free him fully and when you grasp him he chokes out a moan that sends a shiver through you. He is iron clad in velvet and he whispers a breathy ”Fuck” into your temple as you begin to stroke him.

You want to kiss him, want to take him into your mouth, want to feel his tongue on your skin, feel his palms against your breasts. You want so much and before you think about what you’re doing your other hand is between your legs, slipping under the damp material of your own underwear to seek some relief. Lost in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he doesn’t seem to realise, at least not until your breathing starts to come stuttered.

“Fuck,” he whispers again. “Can I-“

“Please, Joel,” you whine, not knowing what he wants to do but wanting to give him anything and everything at this moment.

His palm slides down your neck, over the slope of your breasts where he stops briefly to caress you, and then continues down to rub over the soaked strip of fabric that lies between you. His breathing becomes harsher at the feeling of your arousal, and when you take your hand away to grant him greater access he grinds the heel of his palm against you, making you clench around a nothing that you desperately wish was him. You switch hands to touch him, gliding your own slick down over his head and shaft and beginning to pump him in earnest, and the bitten off moan that rumbles through him makes you wetter than ever before.

He gently moves your underwear aside and slowly and reverently runs the pad of his finger up to your clit and down, again and again, spreading your slick all over and drawing moaning sighs from you as warmth begins to spread throughout your lower body.

“Fuck, honey. You’re so wet,” he whispers, nipping at your jaw.

“It’s you. You’re too…fuckin’…much,” you stutter, the English language currently struggling to compete for brainspace with how good he’s making you feel.

He runs his finger down over your clit once more before stilling briefly. His eyes are fixed upon your face as he finally slides one thick finger inside and you see the hunger in his expression before your eyes close of their own accord to try to make sense of the multitude of sensations that erupt within you. He slipped in so easily, so perfectly and he only waits a few brief moments before adding a second. You arch your back, welcoming him and your thighs begin to tremble at the feeling of him filling you.

He repositions, moving so he is kneeling between your legs, and you whimper a little noise of disappointment as he leaves your hand.

“I can’t,” he pants. “You’re too…you’re so…Look at me. I wanna see you.”

Your eyes open to meet his, their dark depths filled with burning desire. He drops his gaze as he pushes further in and then slides out slowly, his eyes fixed on his fingers as they disappear inside of you. Sharp heat is already building, and when he finds the spot he’s looking for he begins to move faster, hitting it every single time. Your hands trail upward to cup your breasts, and you tweak your hardened nipples hard through the thin fabric.

Christ how can anything feel this good? You’re dizzied, trying to drag air into your lungs faster than you’re able, and when his thumb lands on your clit it pushes you impossibly further, the slow build of pleasure suddenly intense and burning.

“Joel,” you whimper.

“I’ve got you,” he rumbles, his eyes now on your face. “I want you to come, honey. Come all over my hand.”

His voice is shaky, and you realise it’s at least partially because he’s also touching himself. The thought is too much and it tips you over, white heat spreading from his hands within you and unfurling through your body as you give him what he wants. He works you through it, kicking it up a notch and focusing with precision upon that place that you can never reach alone. Instead of becoming overstimulated you feel the wave build again before it can fully recede, surging and cresting through you as you cry his name to the skies above.

All too soon you begin to tremble, to skitter away from his touch and he gently withdraws his fingers. Your jaw is slack from your heavy breathing and from the feeling that you can’t really do anything right now except to lie here and bask, and he takes full advantage by leaning over you to kiss you deeply.

As you lie there panting, sweaty and buzzing, his large frame almost covering you and with the feeling of his lips upon yours, you hear a wet sound and realise that he is using your slick to stroke himself.

“So beautiful,” he mumbles against your mouth. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your hands come around to glide up his back, the dewy sheen of sweat over his skin easing the path of your fingertips. He groans at your touch and strokes himself more insistently, your combined wetness sliding over your inner thigh as he presses himself against you, the knuckles of his hand bumping against your skin as he moves. When you run your nails lightly down his back he twitches and judders against you.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “S-so good. I’m-I’m gonna-“

You raise the hem of your dress further, bunching it around your stomach, but you don’t even get the chance to invite him to come on you before he is, a low, hoarse groan erupting from deep within him as you feel hot jets splash thickly all over your thighs.

His breath is warm and heavy and hitching against you as he stills and you are seized with a desire to know, so you reach down and scoop his spend from your skin, licking it from your fingers, the warm saltiness of him serving to flare the arousal in you once more.

“Christ,” he mutters in an awed voice as he watches you.

“You taste so good,” you hum.

“Christ” he repeats as he half collapses on the blanket next to you.

You draw him close and he rests his head on your chest, snuggling into you, his breathing still rapid and uneven.

“Told you I’d get you back, Miller,” you murmur as you kiss the top of his head.

You feel more than hear his chuckle as he replies “That you did.”

“I still feel like I didn’t do enough. We’re gonna have to-“

“Joel!”

The voice is distant and at first you’re not even sure you heard it, given that blood is still pounding in your ears. But then-

“JOEL!”

It’s Tommy, and he sounds panicked.

“Sh-shit,” mutters Joel as he lurches on to his knees and begins to tuck himself away. You sit up too, tugging your dress down and trying to make yourself look partway presentable.

“JOEL!” comes Tommy’s voice again, his pitch now frantic.

“I’m here!” Joel yells back as he stands up, his jeans finally done up again. You hear the sound of rustling grass as Tommy approaches, and by the sounds of it he is running.

“Joel…you gotta come! Raiders…at the dam,” he manages to pant out.

“Fuck,” Joel curses under his breath as he prepares to follow Tommy.

“Wait!” you exclaim. “I’m coming too!”

“No!” Joel says sharply as he turns back to you.

“I can help!” you insist, bending down to begin dragging items into the backpack.

Suddenly Joel’s hand is on your arm and he’s raising you to face him. He holds your shoulders firmly and looks pleadingly into your eyes as he speaks.

“Your first trip back outside can’t be somethin’ like this. You ain’t prepared-"

“I have to go back out sometime!”

“Sweetheart, I know you wanna help but you ain’t even dressed for it. Please. Stay here. I gotta go. Now.”

You bite your lip. He’s right and you know it, no matter how much you want to argue.

“Come back to me,” you plead.

“Always will,” he promises as he kisses you hurriedly before hurrying after Tommy up the hillside.

You clean yourself up more thoroughly and smooth your hair and clothes while your mind is racing at a hundred miles a minute. The dam had been running smoothly for weeks now, and fewer and fewer people had been needed to go out there. Besides that, everyone had wanted to come to the cookout, and while you didn’t doubt Maria had left a guard out there, you wondered how many people had actually been present when it had been attacked. Tommy had sounded panicked and actively frightened when he had called for Joel. You didn’t even know how word had reached Jackson of the incursion. The walkie talkies wouldn’t work over that distance, so you had to assume someone had ridden in. You stuff the remainder of the things into the backpack and sling it over your shoulder. Even though you’d eaten and drunk everything Joel had brought, it seems to weigh a ton as you begin your own trek up the hillside a few minutes after his departure.

When you get back into the main square of Jackson it’s to the unsurprising discovery that the gathering has been thoroughly dispersed and the party atmosphere sullied beyond repair. People stand huddled in groups talking rapidly and worriedly, some busying themselves by gathering up the leftovers to be stored for tomorrow, some clearing the decorations away.

Maria is standing with Ellie and Cat, all of them with their arms folded and anxious expressions on their faces. You go over to join them.

“If they aren’t back by morning, I’m going out there,” you say bluntly without preamble.

“You and me both,” replies Maria firmly.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery @harperdoodle @hummelmi @casssiopeia @midgetpottermills @rivierasunsetdiner @starkleila @nunya7394

[writerdream22]

requested by: anon, I sincerely hope you like this ✨🌻💛

pairing: Steve Harrington x best friend!reader

warnings: none, except for a few curse words and the mentioning of alcohol

a/n: this came out way longer than expected, and there might be lots of dialogues. I'm sorry!

feedbacks are always appreciated!

“I swear to God, this is the best party I've ever been to in my whole life!” you exclaimed, swaying around to the music while holding a beer-filled cup. It was Samantha Stone's birthday party; she had decided to invite everyone, including you, which was quite surprising as the two of you never talked that much.

“Yeah, y/n, you're right” your best friend, Steve, responded “But this— this will be your last drink, all right? I don't want to carry you the whole way to your bedroom when we get back”. You nodded sheepishly, and responded “Yes, uh-uh. Last drink, yes. I promise”

You and Steve had decided to go to the party together, and he'd said more than once that he would have kept an eye on you. That was because you couldn't handle alcohol at all, and Steve was afraid to leave you alone as he feared that something bad might have happened.

Suddenly, the music blasting from the speakers changed. To your surprise came on the song “Stayin' Alive” by Bee Gees; it was one of your favourites, and your tipsy self reacted rather theatrically. “I love this song!” you shouted, turning to talk to Steve and taking his hands in yours “Dance with me, come on!”. He grinned, accepting your invite, and started dancing along to the music.

You danced for a while, until you felt dizzy and had to stop twirling around and moving too much.

Even though you'd promised your best friend that you wouldn't have drank any more beer, you managed to get a cup of punch. Therefore, when it was time for the two of you to go home, you were drunk. “Y/n...” Steve said in a reprimanding tone, when the two of you finally got into his car “You'd promised me you wouldn't have drank more beer”. You pouted, then stated “It was punch, not beer”.

Shortly after, you arrived to your home. Even though you hadn't fallen asleep, Steve wanted to carry you to your own room to prevent you from knocking down something and your parents from noticing that you were indeed drunk. “Oh, thank you, Steve! I love you” you exclaimed, hugging him tightly, then taking off your shoes and jumping on your bed. “No problem, y/n” Steve responded, hugging you back “I'll see you tomorrow at work, all right?” to which you nodded, before your friend walked out of your bedroom.

The morning after you woke up with a massive headache. You were late, which was rather unusual, and your parents had already left to go to work; hence, you didn't have a vehicle to drive to Starcourt mall. Luckily, your guardian angel came to your rescue; Steve was there, waiting in his car. It seemed like he didn't care that he too was extremely late, but you didn't want him to wait for more time and ran out of your house with your Scoops Ahoy uniform already on along with a pair of glasses.

“Ahoy, sailor!” your best friend exclaimed, as you hopped on the passenger seat. “Ahoy” you dully responded, still unable to register information correctly “Why did you pick me up?”. Steve shrugged, then stated “I knew you weren't going to be able to come to work on time, so I told myself that if my best friend was gonna be late I was gonna be late as well”.

You found this gesture of his to be unusual, and you couldn't shrug off your thoughts about the matter. Therefore, you asked Steve about the real reason why upon your arrival at Starcourt mall.

“Do you want me to he honest?” he responded, and you nodded in response “Well, y/n, I— I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified”. “Terrified?” you questioned, unable to say anything else. You were shocked to hear that coming from your best friend; however, you felt happy and somewhat relieved that it was he who confessed his feelings first.

“Yes. I am terrified” Steve remarked “Remember what happened last year? What if that happens again? I won't be able to withstand the pain of losing you, or seeing you get hurt. We're lucky to be alive and— if you don't reciprocate my feelings I understand. I'll be here even as just a friend. I don't want—” “—Shut up” you interjected. “What?” he questioned, confused.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Harrington”

[waaayoutofline]

Please don’t be in love (with someone else)

Based on ep 6 of GAP the Series// Mon x Sam

This fanfic contains…: fluff✨, angst🌪🌪

Warnings: None.

Word count; 3226

Summary: Situated on the events that took place in Jim… Martha’s (my bad) wedding. Basically what was Mon thinking and feeling during the party and after she left. Obviously written while listening Enchanted by Taylor Swift because it just felt perfect.

Mon was standing in one of the classiest and elegant rooms she’s ever been to, shifting uncomfortably on her feet in the middle of the fancy, crowded environment. She was feeling so out of place while being surrounded by all these important people of high status.

If anyone noticed her discomfort, they were kind enough not to share it.

The night was awkward enough, Mon was currently next to Mr. Kirk, who had the nice gesture of driving both her and Yuki here. The young man was kind and an overall good boss with a cheerful personality, he took care of his company and subordinates.

A gentleman really. The kind of man you would want to take home to your parents.

And yet, Mon could not erase the fake smiles and forced laughter every time he was around. It didn’t make sense, Kirk had been nothing but kind to her, so why does she feel like running away from him? For a lot of people, he was seen as an attractive and charismatic person, and yet Mon felt nothing but annoyance and discomfort every time she saw him. For some unknown reason, she couldn’t stand his groomed hair and easy going and boyish smile. The sight of it made Mon, who wasn’t a drinker by all means, have the necessity of ordering something way too strong for her.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

Luckily for her, the show presenter finally got on stage, creating emotion within the crowd.

“It’s time for our special show dedicated to the bride and the groom, prepared by the cool bridesmaids! Are you all ready for the show?”The crowd cheered, yelling an enthusiastic “ready”.

“Are you ready?!”

“Yes, we are!”

“Okay. If you’re ready, then, let’s enjoy the show!” Everyone started yelling in encouragement, and it was enough of a distraction to Mon. Curiosity makes her buzz, Sam was one of the bridesmaids. The “oh so cold and fierce” Lady Boss was about to do a performance for her best friend's wedding. The thought alone made her giggle.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

Her awkwardness vanished as the lights went down. The curtains lowered and the volume of the music raised, only to reveal the silhouette of Lady Sam. Mon was definitely enchanted by the sight, and she was grateful that the darkness in the room was enough to make her blushing cheeks go unnoticed.For red not being Kuhn Sam's favourite colour, it definitely suited her. She is wonder struck. Mon had all her senses pulled at the older woman by a magnetic force that should’ve frightened her, but instead left her aching for more.She was smiling, and hence she smiled too. Their eyes seemed to connect, and Mon just couldn’t look away. Her dance moves were the cutest thing, and she did them in a flawless manner. Isn’t there anything she wasn’t good at?

Probably not.

“Sam is very cute. Don’t you agree, Mon?” Mr. Kirk suddenly says, as if reading her thoughts and sensing her pure affection for the brunette, but Mon doesn’t dare to take her eyes off the stage, she can’t. Not even if everyone in the room is able to see how truly mesmerized she is.

“Yes, so cute.” She answers honestly with a sigh. “ I can’t get my eyes off her every move.” Well, maybe too honest, but that’s something she’ll overthink later on.

“I’m curious how her dance moves are so spot-on.” He keeps saying. “How did she find the time to do this?”

“I agree. I was with her all the time, and I never saw her practice her dance once.” Yuki sent her a sided look, but Mon was far too gone to notice.

“Or maybe…she did it before she went to bed?” He proposes, but that just didn’t make sense because…

“She didn’t do that.” Mon blurts out. Kirk frowns with confusion.

“You’re saying it as if you were sleeping in the same room with her?”

Oh well, shit.

—------------------—-----------------------------------------

After an admittedly pathetic and weak excuse that Mr. Kirk seemed to believe, Mon sighed in relief. Alright, she just couldn’t go and say things like that. We are talking about her boss here. Her superior, her mentor, her idol. Definitely not the kind of person that you imply that you spend the night with. Even if it was just for work.

… Even if they didn’t precisely do any work.

Just the fact of the two of them simply being friends was odd enough, given the fact of their social differences. And even for friends, it was odd to sleep in the same bed and share the same clothes the day after and the activities prior to that such as sharing a playful conversation while kis-….Sam did a heart with her two hands, and Mon was released from the spiralling thoughts. Their eyes connect yet again, and she almost combusts when Kuhn Sam looks straight at her with a bright smile,long and dark hair falling perfectly around her shoulders. …. What was she saying?

“I think today is a good day. I think I should do something, Mon.” Kirk speaks again, and Mon looks away, the heavy feeling of discomfort clawing her chest overcoming the lovely feeling from before. Something. Kirk wanted to do something while looking at Khun Sam as if she hung all the stars in the sky. A weight dropped in her stomach, she really didn’t want to know what that something meant and yet-…

“What is it?”

“I’ll give you a signal when I’m ready, but I need your help.” No. No she couldn’t…she does not want to-

“Y-yes, that’s fine.”

Kirk gives her a last satisfied smile before turning his head up front. A big grin dedicated to Sam, her fiancé.

Suddenly the marble white ground is very interesting.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

“You look so beautiful today.” She blurts out when Lady Sam approaches, getting ahead of Mr. Kirk. Just a compliment. Nothing weird about it, right?

Sam blinks, once, twice. “Do I usually look ugly?” She replies with a blank stare. Mon gives her a nervous smile. Oh, she’s always so gorgeous. But luckily, that thought doesn’t transform into words. Kirk chuckles.

“Well… Sam is embarrassed that you gave her a compliment, so…” Right, because Sam always hides what she’s truly feeling. And Kirk knows her better anyway.

Sam ignores this remark. “Why didn’t you attend the morning ceremony?” She gets slightly closer, and Mon can’t help but to lean in, too. “I was lonely.” The CEO huffs. So cute. Mon wants to bite her nose.

“Surely, there were many guests of honour in the morning session, so I decided to attend the evening party.” She answers, but Sam just sulks some more before putting distance between them. A spark of hope ignites. Did Kuhn Sam miss her?

“And why did you just arrive?” She asks without a hint of genuine interest and a much less soft look.

“I had to pick Mon and Yuki up before coming here, of course.” That seems to alert Sam, who tilts her head slightly.

“Huh? Why did you have to do that?” She gives Mon an odd look, an eyebrow arching perfectly. Kirk looks at her with confusion at the sudden change of mood.

“Eh?”

Before the tension increases, Jim arrives with a cheerful look alongside her husband.“Hey, lovebirds. You’re taking the spotlight away from me. Wanna take my wedding?” She jokes. “You’re way beyond straightforward. Meanwhile, the other person is a total opposite.” Jim says smugly, eyes never leaving either Mon or Sam. And Kirk notices.And the awkwardness between the three increases tenfold.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

Mon watches as Kirk and Sam are dragged away alongside her other friends. It leaves her right at the beginning. Uncomfortable. Out of place. Stuck right where she stands.Feelings that she knows all too well, given the fact that she came here from England at a young age.

Mon never had a proper sense of belonging.

Don’t get her wrong, she has a loving mom, and she found a new dad along the way, but she still feels somehow left behind. At school in England, at school in Thailand. At his biological dad’s summer house. At University later on. Sometimes at work, even. Either she felt like too much, or too less. Swayed by a sea of people that only seems to perceive or understand a specific part of her instead of the whole. And his loneliness never went away, not fully.

Until Sam locked eyes with her across the room. Oh, those eyes.The effect they had on Mon was beyond everything. She still remembers the first day she saw them. The feelings they brought. Time may have passed, but they still had the same spark as they once had. For someone so cold, she had the most fiery eyes.When a younger Kuhn Sam looked at her for the very first time, Mon felt seen. Understood. She felt that for once, she was seen as Mon.

Not Mon “the halfie”

Mon, the teachers' daughter.

Mon, the kid of a broken marriage.

Just her. And as if Sam could read her thoughts, she looks at her one more time. More soft. More heartbreaking.

Please, don’t take your eyes off me.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

“What about you, Mon? What about you and the Horn?” Tee asks, bringing her back to reality once more.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, has she told you if she likes you, or vice versa? How did you confess and all that? Let us in a bit.” Kade pushes, Mon sneaks a stare at Lady Sam once before answering automatically.

“I’ve always liked Lady Sam… I like her a lot.” An honest answer with an honest smile. The surrounding group grunted in annoyance, leaving her confused. Wasn’t that what she was supposed to say?

“Urgh, Mon! Not as “like” as idolizing her, but ”like” as a lover, you see?” Yuki explains with an affirmative hum for the others. Oh, well. That just can't do, can it? Mon obviously likes Lady Sam, she always has. From a distance. So why complicate things? Besides…

“Lady Sam has Mr. Kirk. She's taken.”

Even when Khun Sam won’t stop looking for her from across the room.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

“Everyone, attention please!” The bride says up stage, “I, Martha, totally forgot to do one important tradition for weddings. “ That gathers everyone attention. Wedding tradition? Mon hasn’t really assisted another wedding besides her father's with her current wife, back when she was younger, so she didn't know exactly what it was. “So I’d like to invite all the single ladies to come to the front of the stage now. Right here come.” All go to where Ji- Martha indicates, but she stays put for a while, leaving the almost empty cup on the table.

As if sensing her distress, Kuhn Sam approaches her in elegant, calculated strides. A pout forms on her face as she lets herself be dragged away by the taller girl.

“Bouquet. I'm here for the bouquet!” Kade smiles with excitement along Yuki, who nods enthusiastically. Sam lets go of her hand, leaving Mon’s hand fidgeting with her hair. That rings a bell. The single girl who gets the bouquet thrown by the bride, it’s the next one to get married, wasn’t it?

“Okay, ladies. Are you ready?”Ji- Martha turns around, bouquet of flowers in hands.

“Bride, are you ready!?”

“3…2…1…and toss!” Martha does so, the beautiful bouquet flying towards them. Mon applauds with a small smile, wishing for one of her friends to get it. It doesn't give her time to react when it suddenly makes contact with her hands, almost dropping it to the ground. Surprise written all over her face as the realization hits. Huh.

Now, Mon could have done various things based on the recent events. She could have kept her sight on the pretty red themed bouquet in her hands, could have lifted her head to look at Jim - Martha with a sheepish smile, perhaps even hold the bouquet up in the air to show it with victory. But she didn’t do any of those. Instead, she did something that took her by surprise.She turned her head to her left, right where Sam's already awaiting brown, dark eyes were shining underneath the lights. This fact makes her heart skip a beat. Time seems to slow down like in those cheesy romcom movies as they gazed at each other. Mon blushed at the realization that she didn’t even think about looking at the woman next to her. She just did.Which admittedly enough was strange. Why not search Yuki’s for example. She was her friend, it would only be natural to share the moment with her. Perhaps even flex. But she just wanted to see Lady Sam.

Why?

The answer should’ve come easily enough from the way Sam was looking at her. So soft. So warm. A fire that could burn you to ashes.And as Mon contemplated if to let herself get burned, she couldn't stop from wondering. Wondering if this meant something. If, somehow, it was all meant to be. Just for a second, shared in the secrecy of their eyes and with rushing hearts.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

Time seemed to slow down yet again. Only that this time, it didn’t feel like Mon was flying high up in the sky. More like getting wrecked by a reality that she forgot for just a moment.“I’m so sorry everyone for having to interrupt the party” A strong, confident voice interrupts. The clapping stops, and when Sam attention gets off her, Mons smile drops off almost instantly. “Since today is a good day, I think it’s a good time to do something I have always wanted to.” Jim’s expression also drops. Mon can just wait. Everyone looks at each other in confusion, some with curiosity, others with annoyance. “I beg you pardon” Kirk excuses as he parts the crowd easily enough. A new feeling of anxiety rushes over Mon as he gets closer to her, his eyes with pure determination. The new married couple glance at each other, communicating in a way that only lovers can.

As Kirk stands in front of Sam, Jim shares a stare with her, trying to say something with pitiful eyes.

“What are you doing?” Sam inquires in a monotonous voice, not liking the sudden attention.

“We've been friends since we were young. We’re partners in our business.” Why is he stating the obvious right in the middle of her best friend's wedding, she doesn’t seem to know. “We’ve been through tough times together. But we have ever once let go of each other’s hand. From today onwards, I’d like to take another step in our relationship.”Everyone is staring at the sudden confession. All eyes are on them. Sam looks at Mon. And then he kneels.

He kneels and something within her shatters like glass.

Clueless, clueless Sam frowns. “What is it? You hurt your knee?”

Jim’s husband's eyes open widely, staring right at her wife’s also perplexed expression. Maybe because they didn’t see it coming. And because it was right in the middle of their wedding party. But Mon doesn’t seem to register anything but what is right in front of her.Practically everyone exclaims with surprise, and a new sound of clapping fill the room completely, resounding onto the high, pristine white walls.And finally, there it is. The dreading question that makes her blood run cold.

“Marry me, Sam.”

“Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!”

Mon stops breathing. Stops feeling anything but the sudden pain in her chest. She barely senses some worried glances from the couple besides her and the other friends of the group from below the stage. Almost feels the caring and gentle touch of Jim.

What’s happening to her? Why does everything hurt all of a sudden? Sam looks at her yet again with melancholic, apologetic tainted eyes.

Her forces leave her body, hands dropping the bouquet in her hand, which falls with a sordid thud. Tears sting in her eyes, her lips quiver in a way that she can’t get a hold of. Time slows, and slows and slows until it feels like it’s trapping her, suffocating her. Sam look away yet again. Now fixed on Kirks euphoric expression.

And then it feels like the bubbles explodes and she can finally move. Only for her to run. Becaus before she knows it, her legs decide to go for their own and get her out of there. Not seeing the way Kade advises Sam, who doesn’t even blink before going after her.Tears stream down her face uncontrollably, blurring her vision almost completely until the point where she can barely see where she is going. It’s like her instinct gets a hold of her, controlling her body completely as she goes down the stairs without her miraculously falling. She must be looking like a wreck, blushing in a manner that only happens when she is frustrated.And her senses are so clouded, that her name yelled by the very reason of her deplorable state falls hopelessly onto the reception room, never arriving at its destination.

—------------------—------------------------------------------

Her bed felt cold as she fall in it.What is happening to her? Why can’t she stop shaking and crying? Mon hugs herself as she always does when feeling unwell in a feeble attempt to self sue herself, not wanting her loud cries to wake her parents.In the dark of her room, a question will keep her until 2AM. Why is she so upset? Why does she feel like her heart is breaking at each exhale? It has been hours, and she is still wide awake, facing the wall of her room. A wall covered in pictures of Khun Sam. Flashes of all those years back, admiring her idol in a way that her friends called over line obsessive.

But it really was just admiration. But this…this is heartache.

She sighs with melancholy. When meeting Khun Sam, Mon was totally surprised at seeing how different she was respecting the version she idolized all those years back. But it was wonderful to get to know her, this time up close and in a sincere way that left her heart fluttering. She thought that it was the very first page of being close. But the marriage proposal felt like the story line ended. Even though she already knew that she was meant to marry Kuhn Kirk, the act of seeing the man actually asking for her hand felt like a slap in the face.All the repressed thoughts that Mon held back while being with Khun Sam broke since the moment she started leaving too soon from the party.

Perhaps they got too close. But what did she truly want, huh? For Sam to be at her door? For herself to open up and find the gorgeous CEO with a reserved, yet beautiful smile? And then what? What would Mon say?

Please don’t be in love with someone else?

Please don’t have somebody waiting on you?

The truth of it all made the faint traces of sleep vanish completely,leading her to a restless night, not knowing that right outside was a hesitant Kuhn Sam who had indeed followed her all the way home but never dared to go beyond waiting at her door.

[sotangledupinit]

run, run rogers - My CSSS 2021 Gift

hi there @ilovemesomekillianjones! here’s the fourth and final chapter of my @cssecretsanta2020​ gift to you from last year! thank you for being so understanding and patient (still. because i am the absolute worst!). 

also - this was uploaded to AO3 a few days ago, in case there’s any confusion!

run, run rogers (chapter 4 of 4)

SUMMARY: The last thing Emma Swan expected to be doing on Christmas Eve was last minute Christmas shopping. But Neal’s genius left her in the lurch, and she needs to fix things. And the Uber trip to get this all done? It’ll cost her.

RATING: T for Teen 

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 5,267 words

TAGS: Captain Swan, Holiday, Uber Driver Killian Jones

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The muse did not want to cooperate for a few long months, hence the downgraded rating and lack of smut. But! I did finally get to write out my idea for the gift. My giftee @ilovemesomekillianjones​ is so patient and kind about the long wait so a very big shoutout to her (and a day late happy birthday as well)! if you haven’t already read this on AO3, then i hope you enjoy!

***

“Oi! Whaaaz been da hold up?”

Will’s voice is loud as he slurs his holler, taking particular delight from popping the P in ‘up’. His grin is lazy as he hangs half of his body out of the window he’s rolled down in the backseat, arms dangling against the car door. Emma shares a look with Killian, their mouths quirking up at the corner from Will’s antics, and she feels a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

Not completely, no. But Killian’s words have made her feel like she’s not a total failure. It still sucks that she can’t give her kid something completely new to open, something that isn’t what his father just copied, but she can still salvage the holiday one way or another.

When Emma approaches the car, Killian a few steps behind her, she sees the kind of state Will’s gotten himself into. He had clearly sprawled himself out on the seats, laying on his stomach. With the upper half of his body still out the car window, his legs are stretched behind him, feet resting on the door on the other side. She huffs a laugh. As annoyed as she’s been by him half the night, it’s like having a big kid around and her heart yearns for Henry.

She loves her kid and she knows he deserves to have some time with his dad, but she still wishes he was home Christmas Eve, baking cookies with her and drinking their hot chocolate while watching Home Alone and Die Hard.

She senses Killian’s presence before she feels his arm coming around her side and opening the passenger door for her. “You get to be my first mate.”

“Lucky me.” The smile Emma shoots Killian is unlike any she’s given someone in quite a long time. It’s flirty, which is no surprise, but there’s a layer of giddiness to it too. She settles herself in the seat as Killian helps Will back inside the car, a number of grunts and phrases, some of which she’s never heard but no doubt are not for the faint of heart, come from behind her seat and she stifles her laughter until Killian’s in the driver’s seat beside her again.

Her seat suddenly jerks forward and the faint smell of alcohol from Will’s breath makes its way into her personal space. She turns slightly to see his body slumped forward against the back of her seat, his chin resting beside the headrest and his eyes half open.

“I thought you were going shopping?” he mumbles to her.

“I was trying to.”

“Bollocks. Ye’ve got no shopping bags with ya.”

“Scarlet,” Killian cuts in, voice struggling on its precarious balance of amusement and frustration.

“Well yer not doing a good job then, Killian. Where’s the lady’s gifts?”

“Actually…” Her eyebrows furrow together as Killian runs his tongue along his bottom lip in deep thought. Without a word to her or Will, he throws the car in drive and sets off in the opposite direction of the address she told him.

“What are you doing?” If it had been anyone else, anyone but Killian, she’d be frightened. She’d have pulled out her mace by now and worked a means into stopping the car. Instead, she sits patiently in her seat with her head turned in his direction and the seatbelt digging into her neck.

“Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

“I do trust you.”

The lack of hesitation takes them both by surprise. Her mouth drops open as she struggles to build off of her statement and Killian continually glances at her from the side. After a few moments, she shrugs shyly and gives him a small smile.

Will mumbles something along the lines of ‘pathetic’ and falls back into his seat, head lolling towards the window as he views the house lights passing them by.

Never before had she said something like that to another adult with such conviction and she didn’t know how to proceed. Emma doesn’t voice her feelings, that’s not the kind of person she is. Their conversation outside of the toy store already left her feeling raw and vulnerable and her words slipped out of her mouth without any filtering. It’s as close as she can come to laying her heart bare.

Her eyes trace Killian’s tongue as it pokes out his mouth to lick his lips.

He glances at her once more before straightening in his seat, flicking on one blinker as they stop at a red light. “I can read you pretty well, love, and I know you’re still disappointed about your lad not having anything new to open tomorrow.” He shifts in his seat again as the tips of his ears begin to turn pink. “I think I have an idea to remedy that.” She practically melts as he softens his tone and finally looks at her. “If you’ll allow me to help?”

The man sitting across from her continues to amaze her.

Emma doesn’t even need to think. She nods her head and says softly, “Yes.”

They drive in silence for a few minutes, Will ooo-ing and ahhh-ing at various Christmas displays before Emma leans forward.

She smirks at Killian as she flicks the music on, an older man singing about jingle bells wafting from the speakers, her mood vastly improved from earlier. It’s not until they pull onto one of the streets on the outskirts of the city, bordering the city center and the suburbs, that she notices Will perk up in the backseat.

“No way, mate. Don’t do this to me,” he whines, suddenly acting wide awake and sober despite the sway to his positioning. Killian chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yes way. You can’t hide forever.”

“I can bloody well try. I’m not going in.”

“Then you can freeze in the car.”

“It’s fucking cold out! And snowing!”

Killian grins wide into the rearview mirror, catching Will’s eye, and lifts an eyebrow as if daring the other man to fight him. “I guess you’re coming inside then. Aye?”

Will grumbles and crosses his arms as he glares out the window until Killian comes to a stop in front of a small section of shops. It’s a part of the city she hasn’t been before. An ice cream shop, wedding store, therapist’s office, pawn shop, and a comic-book store line one side of the street with a police department – not David’s, that much she knows – across the street with a diner beside it.

Emma waits to ask until everyone is out of the car, Will huffing and puffing the entire time. Nearly all of the shops are dark and closed up for the holiday except for the comic-book store which looks to be having a work party. “Where are we?”

“At the wolf’s den,” Will says angrily, shooting a glare at Killian who only laughs in glee.

“Yeah,” Emma starts, glancing wearily between the two of them. “I’m going to need more than that.”

“Come on, love,” Killian says. His prosthetic comes to the middle of her back and she suppresses her shiver from how good his heat feels so close to her. “Trust me, remember?”

“Yes –”

“You really shouldn’t,” Will cuts in, gaze now turned towards the holiday party. “He’s a scoundrel.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian calls from her side. She leans into his chest as he turns towards Will and she pretends not to notice the way his arm slides along her waist, bringing her closer as well. “Weren’t you just trying to wing-man me an hour ago?”

Will waves the statement away. “You don’t deserve my talents. The lass can do better anyway.”

“I beg your pardon –”

“Guys,” Emma cuts in. “My kid. A present. Before midnight, please.”

They grumble at each other before Killian ushers her to the door of the comic-book shop, opening it for her as Will shrinks into his coat, shoulders raised to his ears. He rips his beanie from his pocket and forces it over his head at such an alarming speed that it nearly makes her laugh.

“Captain!” a velvety voice calls out from across the shop. “Thought you were skipping out on us tonight for the cash flow.”

Emma’s not sure what to expect from the voice. Surely, such an attractive sound belongs to an equally attractive person, but nothing could have prepared her for the gorgeous brunette that walks out of the crowd gathered at the back of the store and right towards them.

It’s been a long time since jealousy held a vicelike grip on her throat but the feeling invades the bubble she’s had with Killian all night.

The woman’s legs are shaped by tight red skinny jeans and she wears a green crop top lined with white fur. A Santa hat sits askew on her head, the perfect match for her blood red lipstick. Dark hair rests in waves down her back and her nails are painted such a deep red it could be mistaken for black. The smile she shoots their way is one Emma could imagine a predator wearing. But who was her prey?

Emma chances a glance at Killian and relaxes instantly at the feel of his prosthetic on her back again. The smile he shoots the woman looks so similar to the patient, kind grin he’d given Henry on their rides. In that brief look, she feels all jealousy shrink away. Not that she had any claim to Killian to start with, but if there’s a possibility… “Aye, but I had much more important matters to attend to. Miss Swan is in need of your expertise, Ruby.”

“Miss Swan?”

Emma struggles to find her voice for a moment, feeling as if she’s been pulled in a million different directions. All she can do is fall back on her instinct to fight. “Don’t listen to him,” she insists. “It’s Emma.”

“Aye, Emma is in need of your expertise.” The amusement in Killian’s voice is enough to earn a narrow-eyed look from her over her shoulder, his grin widening in reaction. His teasing starts to bring her back to herself and she finds breathing slightly easier than it’d been a moment ago. With a roll of her eyes, she faces their newcomer again.

“With what exactly?” Ruby inquires.

“A gift for her boy.” Emma’s cheeks heat up as Ruby’s calculating gaze bounces between herself and Killian. “He’s creative. Writes and draws his own comics. Isn’t that right, Swan?”

She nods furiously in agreement, centering herself on talk of her kid. Talking about Henry is always easy for her. Not that she’s biased or anything but he’s the greatest kid around. She tells Ruby as much. “He’s incredible. A creative genius, honestly. I don’t know how he comes up with half the stuff he does.”

“Huh,” Ruby says, eyeing Emma up and down. What the hell? She doesn’t know why but the urge to defend herself – against what, she’s not even sure – crawls up her throat.

“Huh?” Emma echoes, glancing back at Killian who narrows his gaze at Ruby.

“You’re different,” she elaborates, probing even though her sentence already feels like a statement.

“Ruby…” Killian warns. “Don’t start. Get the pages, lass.”

Ruby merely rolls her eyes and scoffs. “I meant it as a good thing.” She steps towards Emma, looping her arm through Emma’s so fast that all she can do is look at Killian with a bewildered expression. “I like her.” The smile she sends Emma’s way once she faces forward again is friendly and warm and Emma feels the feeble defenses she’d built back up at the other woman’s appearance come down again.

They near the party for a moment, a group of only a handful of people surrounded by alcohol and baked goods with a stereo in the corner playing a Kelly Clarkson song and surrounded by more of the string lights, tinsel, and mistletoe that decorates the rest of the shop.

“Killian’s idea is perfect for your kid, if he’s as creative as you say.”

“Oh, he definitely is.”

“How old is he?” Ruby tosses her a look over her shoulder out of pure curiosity. There’s no judgement to be thrown down based on her answer and Emma doesn’t even feel the urge defend herself as she answers.

“He’s 12.” Ruby grins at this and much like Killian, doesn’t question it further and accepts it for what it is.

“Then this really is perfect and I have to admit, Killian’s a genius. It’s right this way,” Ruby says. Her hand gestures to an alcove in the back corner, opposite the party. The lighting is dimmer there and it’s not as loud. Or at least it isn’t until Ruby yells back to where Killian leans against a counter by the door. “Don’t let Scarlet run away! He still owes me $500! I will get my money and if he keeps running, it won’t be pretty!”

“Fucking hell.”

Emma huffs out a laugh. She has no doubt that Will was attempting to escape out the front door or blend in with the party to avoid paying it. Killian’s chuckle drifts over to their area, confirming her suspicions.

Her eyes scan the shelves before her as Ruby detaches herself. “Stay here,” she orders and Emma shrugs. It’s not like she has any other choice.

While she waits, she continues browsing. Henry’s gotten so many comics over the years from herself, David, and Mary Margaret that she can’t even keep track of what he does and doesn’t have. The last thing she’d want is to try to get him something new only for it to be what he already has. It’s that exact line of thinking that’s gotten her into this situation.

Once she bores of that, she makes a quick perusal of the store. Garland circles the shelves and moldings, string lights hanging from the ceiling throughout the store, and mistletoe is placed throughout. Ruby had navigated the two of them through it without needing to look, clearly an expert at avoiding the tradition when not desired, but the rest of the party on the other side of the store takes glee at the catching each other underneath it.

A particularly loud cheer diverts her attention over to them, watching as two of the people gripe and groan, making a big deal over it before engaging in a short kiss amidst the cajoling party. A flash of black captures her gaze.

Killian’s made his way over to the party. He stands on the edge of it and laughs as a man in a Santa dress suit with a red velour top hat places a Santa hat on his head to match the rest of the store’s occupants. Will slinks between the other party-goers, snatching snacks from the tables around the area and grabbing a plate of lasagna someone abandoned atop a display.

She can’t stop the smile that grows on her face as Will gets slapped in the back of the head by one of the women there, her fierce attitude clear in her reprimanding as Will shrugs his shoulders and offers excuses. Killian’s shit-eating grin at the scene is hard to miss, especially as Will sighs in defeat and pulls out his wallet, and as he takes a swig of his water bottle, Killian catches her eye.

Her breath hitches in her throat and she finds it hard to swallow. It’s like there’s an electric current dancing along a wire connecting the two of them, tingling her skin beneath the surface. Her eyes follow the sight of his tongue as it sneaks between his lips to catch the water residue. He clearly swallows and when her eyes drift up his face to meet his, she sees the black of his pupils swallowing the blue coloring.

“Got it!”

Emma jumps at the sound of Ruby’s voice and turns quickly.

“Need a minute?” Ruby teases, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head in Killian’s direction. Emma swallows and shakes her head.

“Sorry, what do you have?”

Ruby takes one of her hands from behind her back and offers a Santa hat out to her. Emma eyes it, popping an eyebrow in question. “Uh, I am not giving my son a Santa hat for Christmas.”

“No, the hat’s for you.”

“I am not wearing a Santa hat. I just want to get a gift for my kid. If you can’t help out then –”

Ruby rolls her eyes and thrusts the hat towards her. “Don’t be a grinch. Have a little Christmas spirit – it won’t kill you. Wear the hat, then you’ll get the gift.”

The two of them stand in a stare-down for a few moments until Ruby smirks and tilts her head, pride already making its way onto her features before Emma even concedes.

She knows that Ruby means business. Her confident swagger nearly fills the store and Ruby knows just how desperate she is. With a frustrated sigh, Emma hastily grabs the hat from Ruby’s hand and shoves it on her head, frowning. “There. Now the gift?”

“Thanks for playing along,” Ruby begins, her voice taking on the tone of a game show host announcing the grand prize. “For that, you will receive…”

Everything else Ruby is saying fades to the background as she reveals what she’d been hiding behind her back.

Five packages of blank comic panel pages, each package representing different, commonly used templates for comic-books. There’s nearly 200 pages total in her hand and Emma could practically cry at how perfect the gift is. Her son – her incredibly brilliant and creative son can actually create his own comic with ease.

“I didn’t even know anyone made these,” she whispers in amazement, her hands gently, hesitantly, shakily, taking the packages from Ruby.

“I’m not the one you should thank.” Ruby’s smile is pointed yet gentle as she gestures over the Killian. A quick look over her shoulder and Emma sees the way he’s half listening to the conversation at his side between Will and the woman from before. Instead, he keeps trailing his eyes back over to her and even from afar, she notices the vested interest etched in the way his eyebrows lift as he watches them.

Ruby’s voice breaks her gaze.

“How did you guys meet?”

“Uh,” Emma starts before she shakes her head. “He’s my Uber driver, actually.” Ruby remains unconvinced and unsatisfied.

“Really? Just your driver?” She points her deep red nails, gesturing between Emma and Killian as their eyes catch again. “That’s what you’re going with?”

The half-shrug that comes from her lifted shoulder is sheepish. Heat rises to her cheeks and Emma feels as if she’s been transported back to middle school talking about her crush at a sleepover. Not that she did any of that, but she imagines this must have been what it felt like.

“Well… he was just my Uber driver. Now I’m not so sure.”

Ruby offers her an encouraging smile and grabs a bag from behind the counter as they leave the area. When Emma twice tries to pay, Ruby brushes her off. “My little Christmas gift to you,” she says. There’s no pity or guilt in Ruby as she says the words and Emma struggles to say anything other than a cracked thanks.

People always wanted something in return. Nothing is done for free. If someone offers you something, it’s because they want you to owe them a favor or they’re using you to assuage their own guilt.

At least, that’s the take Emma had before the start of the night.

Then Killian gave up a night of potentially heavy cash flow and became her… friend. Now Ruby is joining the ranks too, helping her make Christmas special for her kid. If she hadn’t met Killian, she’s sure her pride would’ve been a lot harder to swallow to accept such a gesture.

When they make it to the party, Ruby rushes over, pulling the hand belonging to the woman who gave Will a dressing down, and steps under the mistletoe. “Merry Christmas, Mulan,” Ruby whispers. The party start a cheer, noisemakers and chants of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ filling the store. Emma meets Killian’s eye between Ruby and her lover and they share a grin before the kiss blocks them from each other.

Ruby eventually detaches herself from the kiss and introduces Emma to her fiancée Mulan. Between the two of them, they convince her to stay an extra half hour so she can enjoy the party.

“You can always join our poker game tonight too,” Mulan offers. Her face gives nothing away but there’s something in her voice that tugs at Emma’s warning bells.

“Babe,” Ruby says with a sigh. “We’re trying to make a good impression on Killian’s… friend. We can’t do that if you’re robbing her blind.”

“She’ll count every penny too!” Will adds around a mouthful of cheesecake. “Stole $350 from me wallet already tonight.”

“You owed me that.”

Ruby cuts in, “Wait, you paid her but you still haven’t paid me?!”

“You’re practically married, it’s all the same now!”

“Actually –”

“So,” Mulan cuts in, drowning out Will and Ruby. She compromises, eyeing Emma with a calculating gaze. The woman reminds her of a general in the army, observing the enemy and coming up with at least three strategies to ensure their defeat. “I’ll give you a month. Expect an invite. Bring enough cash not to disappoint.”

Before Emma can accept or decline the invitation – though she has no clue what answer would’ve come out of her mouth – Killian appears at her side. “Bloody hell, Ruby. I leave you to warm up my car and you’re already letting your fiancée take Emma for all she’s worth?!”

There’s no malice in his voice, just a thinly veiled teasing tone, and Emma suppresses a grin at the eye rolls and groans from his reprimand that fill their small group. “I guess that’s my cue,” Emma says instead, backing up. “You coming, Will?”

Will shakes his head. “I’m going to give these lovely ladies the privilege of my presence on their couch tomorrow morning.” His wide grin breaks at the slap on the back of his head from Mulan, but neither her nor Ruby do anything to stop Will.

Wishes of merry Christmases fill the room and soon enough, Emma and Kilian find themselves heading towards the shop’s exit.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” The gentleness of his voice, the care in which he takes with her mission, lights a fire in her chest.

Her smile is wide even if her voice is quiet and soft. “Thank you. Seriously. It’s going to blow his mind.”

Killian’s response is cut off by loud cheers and chants of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ They both turn a curious glance over at the crowd, ready to see who the latest couple caught by the random sprig of mistletoe is, only to find the crowd already staring back at them. Her head slowly tilts back and her mouth drops open, dumbfounded.

It feels fated, almost, the way that she’s found herself under the mistletoe with the one man who’s been able to turn her world inside-out in just a night. The universe is pushing them together and for once in her life, she agrees with it.

“Please,” Killian scoffs, addressing the group. It becomes clear to her quickly that he’s trying to give her an out or a reason to jump. His statement offers her the choice and that’s what does it. Well, that and his next sentence leave no other option for her competitive side. “She couldn’t handle it.”

Then he turns to her with that wide, victorious smirk and she wishes to wipe it right off his face, the smug bastard. No matter the choice she makes, he still wins. So she does the only logical thing to do in the situation.

She lays the bag with the comic pages on the display stand behind her. Her eyes remain locked on Killian’s the entire time and she can tell that he’s itching to swipe his thumb across his lip.

Then her resolve crumbles to nothing and she grasps the lapels of his leather jacket and tugs him forward.

Their lips meet in a slow, hesitant kiss despite the passionate start to their embrace. The moment Emma sighs, relaxing slightly as her mouth remains pressed against Killian’s, Killian takes advantage. He moves with confidence and familiarity. The taste of his mouth is new but the way his fingers tangle in her hair feels like his hand is always supposed to cradle her head there.

It’s exhilarating and intoxicating all at once. The sounds of the party fade to nothing and the only thing she can hear other than her racing pulse in her ear is the way Killian sighs and groans as they kiss. It’s delicious and tempting and she wants it to stay imprinted on the forefront of her mind.

The spell is cracked, not broken, when they pull apart.

Emma’s left in a daze, not registering a single moment of their final goodbyes before she’s buckled back up in Killian’s car and waiting for him to pull away from the curb.

Despite their bubble splintering at the store, a crackle of electricity, a simmering heat, still rises beneath the surface. It’s so palpable she can almost taste it. She can’t let him leave her yet. Not without another taste. Especially when he looks so unfairly good in the Santa hat bestowed on him at the store.

Killian starts their route to her place and Emma can’t bear to say goodbye to him when they pull up. Her mind flitters to the to-do list she wrote that morning and all the things she needed or should be doing for the holiday. The few remaining gifts she had to wrap, the food she had to prepare for tomorrow, and the cookies left unmade. All of the ingredients in her cabinets are new and purchased for a single holiday. She’ll never get through all of it by tomorrow.

Swallowing hard, Emma turns in her seat and looks at Killian. “What’re your plans for the rest of the holiday?”

He licks his lips before he answers, his mouth as dry as hers suddenly feels. “Just heading home to watch a few films on the telly.”

“How do you feel about making sugar cookies?” It only takes a moment for the question in his gaze to disappear, giving way to a bright grin. Her heart flutters at the sight and instead of fretting, she lets out a deep breath and relaxes her shoulders.

The house is warm when they enter. Henry’s new gift is placed aside to be wrapped once the cookies are in the oven. Their fingers linger longer than necessary as they help each other tie their aprons, a twinkle in Killian’s eyes as he raises an eyebrow when Emma’s hand slides a little too low once she’s finished.

“Fair game,” is what he whispers to her as he trails his hand up her side before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He leans down to place a soft kiss on her lips only for them to lose themselves in the action. Their Santa hats fall to the ground, not that either of them notice. The slight flour that got on Emma’s hand from pulling down ingredients before now runs a white streak through one side of Killian’s hair and he returns the favor once they actually start cooking.

She gets mesmerized by the way he uses his stump – brace off and arm washed clean – to knead the dough better than she’s ever been able to. It takes a near monumental effort to concentrate on the cookies and not what else he might be capable of.

That only lasts until the cookies are in the oven and the timer is set, Henry’s gift laying unwrapped where she left it as Killian proves just what he can do.

They trade lazy kisses once she finally gets around to wrapping Henry’s new gift. Neither of them attempt to repress the smiles that bloom on their faces and it’s the most at peace Emma has felt in possibly her entire life. The only thing that’d make the moment even better, she thinks to herself, would be if her kid were with them.

Perhaps it’s coincidence or luck. Or maybe Christmas magic, as hard as it is to believe, actually does exist. Because it’s not a moment later when, at 11:43pm Christmas Eve night, her phone rings.

“Hey, Mom?” Henry whispers once she picks up.

“Henry?” The hairs on the back of her neck raise in alert and she sees Killian’s posture straighten from beside her on the couch. He makes a quick move to pause Miracle on 34th Street.

“I’m okay,” her kid starts but Emma only feels a small bit of tension leave her shoulders. “I just… I miss you.”

Her heart lurches at his words. “I miss you too,” she whispers back and wills her eyes not to tear. It’s been a long time since they’ve been separated like this but time doesn’t make it easier. “How was your night, kid?”

Henry huff’s out a laugh. “Thanks for the gifts, I know they were your idea. Also, I’m pretty sure half of this stuff is actually his.”

She joins in his laughter with a quick snort of her own. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah…” He pauses and Emma leans back into the couch. Killian raises an eyebrow in her direction as he wraps an arm around her and she merely shrugs. She guesses Henry just wanted to talk. “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas here. Not without you. Can you pick me up? I want to come home.”

“Oh Henry,” Emma whispers again. She makes quick work of the tear that manages to escape and nods her head before she realizes that he can’t see her. “Of course. It’ll take me ten minutes to get there. Start packing up and wake your dad to let him know, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

The moment after they hang up, Emma turns towards Killian and pulls him into a tight embrace, allowing only a few more tears free – the last thing she needs is to let Henry know how emotional their conversation got her.

“You’re right,” she mumbles into Killian’s neck. His hand and stump hold her closer and she feels every worry leave her body with a few strokes.

Killian was right. For as much as she focuses on the material things of the holiday, Henry doesn’t care about the gifts. She’s given him a home, a place of comfort and memories, and that’s what he wants this year. It’s nothing that Neal can provide him and Emma knows that just turning on their Christmas tree and watching Home Alone will be enough.

She glances at the gifts stuffed under the tree in their living room, especially the special new addition, and grins to herself.

The presents don’t hurt either.

Killian helps her to stand as she explains the situation. She can see the offer of a ride sitting on the tip of his tongue but his desire to not overstep holding it back. For most of the night, he’s been making the effort and opening up first. So this time, she resolves, it’s up to her.

With her hand out as an offering, she asks, “You willing to give us a ride?”

He grins wide, leaning down to give her a kiss. “Ride accepted.”

[dondon-patapon]

Observation Log 3: 1/13, 11:12 PM

Temp: 33 deg.

Weather: Skies clear, heavy winds

Obs: Light coating of space dust accumulating outdoors

After the past few stressful nights my hands have yet to regain their strength. My injured hand still smarts, to boot - I had to change the bandage a few times yesterday. Hence it took me several tries to light the lamp tonight. The first time in a very long time I’ve struggled so much, as far as I can recall. 

Aside from that, though, I’ve finally had a bit of peace. A chance to catch my breath, if you will. Once I managed to clean up the mess downstairs to a more respectable degree, I could finally sit back and simply… reflect. 

I wonder what my family is up to right about now? Mom and dad, did they end up retiring after all, once their prodigal daughter left home for good? Or did they hand the keys to their power over to my sniveling little brother? Not that I have any love for them at this point, that died long ago when they stabbed me in the back and I let them. When I sat back and did nothing as they broke up my marriage and had my wife banished.

I couldn’t stand up to them until it was too late.

Tsuki always loved the snow. I hated having to bundle up; was never a fan of the cold, but she loved it. Something about the feeling of watching it fall in a heavy sprinkle across a dark field, the moon as the only lighting, dancing off each and every flake- It enraptured her. And when I looked at her face, the moon reflected in her eyes, I felt precisely the same.

It really was magical.

I know this isn’t the same. It’s just space dust. But when I watch it come down, the light making its rounds in the distance, I can’t help but remember those days, and wish I’d held onto them tighter.

I can’t help but to long for those days again.

A faint chuckle, and a scrape from the far side of the room, and my eyes dart away from the window.

…Nothing there. A trick of the night, perhaps? I know I’m alone here, but for a moment, I perhaps thought-

Wishful thinking, perhaps.

After the mishap a night or so ago, found myself combing the beach particularly thoroughly today. I’ll be trying to make a regular habit of this again. Can’t be caught unawares like that again, in case something else were to go wrong.

But instead, I found myself thinking about that odd disturbance that had bothered the pilot on my last supply run. Charred circuit boards, wrecked hard drives, a few antennas of note amongst other mangled trash. Like the remnants of a ship’s computer, perhaps. Not much I can salvage from this at first glance but I’ll take what I can back. We’ll see. I’m more curious about the source, though… This isn’t anything I usually see around these parts, and I’ve seen my share of wrecked ships over time.

Though again, maybe this is just the mind of a lonely soul, drawing connections where none exist. I suppose only time will tell. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

[bellaramseysgf]

Long time (S.B)

Warning(s); angst!,Lover-Strangers-lovers again trope,smut! (piv sex),size kink,god complex,finger sucking,choking kink,cum eating,daddy kink,marking kink + More

Pairing(s); Sirius Black x Ex-Girlfriend! Reader.

Summary; years after your breakup you’re forced to see your ex again. You both realize maybe your love isn’t dead.

A/n; so I’m a slut for Siri I just can’t help it ☺️,also this is considered to be modern day au hence why there’s cell phones etc.

I literally hate this sm but I want it outta my drafts sooo here.

I’m no longer doing a taglist! It wouldn’t work properly and I’m not gonna have myself stressing over it :) so I’m sorry abt it but no more taglist<3

Divider by @firefly-graphics <3

The soft buzz of your phone in your pocket pulled your attention from the screen of your laptop. You pulled your phone out answering it immediately when you saw Remus’ name on the screen. “Hey Remmy what’s up?” “….it’s James, he’s hurt himself” your body had never moved so fast in your life.

You had moved away from London a few years ago, after things ended with sirius and you got a job offer in Chicago. You would visit James and Remus during summers but you haven’t seen sirius since the break up 3 years ago. You knew he’d be there,he wouldn’t ever leave James in pain.

“Thank you” you said sliding into Remus’ car at the airport. “Seriously, it’s no problem. You alright?” You nodded and smiled at your friend. “How’s he doing?” You asked as Remus began to drive towards his shared home with James. “He’s making a slow but steady recovery.” You nodded “good” you sighed playing with the ends of your hair. “He’s there you know.” Remus said and you nodded “yeah, I know” Remus smiled over at you “gonna fall in love again?” You shook your head “no Moony,we aren’t”

Remus pulled into the small gravel driveway of his house and parked. You climbed out seeing a rather expensive Mercedes parked in the drive as well. He really was here. Remus grabbed your bags and lead you inside,you shrugged off your jacket and looked back a Remus “he’s down the hall” you nodded immediately heading for James’ door.

Remus sat your bags down and walked into his living room. “Moony!” Sirius called as Remus walked over to the small cup of tea he had left when he went to pick you up. “Yes pads?” He replied and sirius smiled “she still cute?” He asked and Remus sighed at his friend “I don’t know,she looks the same” sirius nodded “mm so still cute” “who’s cute?” You asked as you walked into the room.

Your eyes met Sirius’ and your pulse immediately quickened,he looked the same yet different. His hair was cut short and styled differently,his eyes seemed brighter then before and his jaw seemed sharper. His lips still looked just as soft as they did when you last saw him. His style had also changed, he was wearing a suit something he use to absolutely despise wearing before.

You pulled your eyes away from him after realizing you had been staring a bit to long. “He’s asleep” you told Remus. “Hey,Y/n” Sirius’ voice still made you feel like your knees would buckle at any minute. “Hey Sirius” you replied walking over to sit next to Remus. While the three of you talked you and Sirius kept your eyes practically locked on each other. As if when you’d look away the other would disappear.

Soon, James called out for Remus and he leaves the pair of you alone in silence just staring at each other. “You cut your hair” you said finally breaking the silence sirius hummed and nodded as he sipped from the glass in his hand. “I did” he confirmed and you played with the hem of your shirt as silence fell back over you. “How’s the job?” He asked breaking the silence this time. “I..uhm I quit a few months ago” you said and sirius sat up a bit “why’s that?”

“The boss, he just wasn’t who I thought he was” you explained and Sirius nodded. “Your style’s changed” you said trying to keep the conversation going. “Oh? No, I came here from work” you tilted your head “you work where you have to wear suits, never saw that coming” you both laughed at that and he nodded “yeah, crazy” he mumbled sipping from his glass once more.

“I’m gonna go unpack” you said standing up “yeah, alright” you smiled at him and walked past him to pick up your bags. “it’s good to see you again,Pup” your heart lunged at the nickname one on which you hadn’t heard in years. “Same for you..Sirius” you headed up the stairs after that rushing to get to your room before you could start crying.

You tossed and turned that night not being able to take your mind off one thing. Sirius. Your mind was running over what dating him was like,the soft and sweet moments. Moments where you’d lay in front of the fire cuddling or when he’d surprise you on your birthdays. It wasn’t like it was a few months no you dated him for 6 years.

It wasn’t like you two broke up because you stopped loving each other no, you broke up because you decided to move. Sirius didn’t wanna leave London,didn’t wanna leave his friends and you didn’t wanna make him leave. You both knew you couldn’t do long distance the time you’d spend apart during fall,Winter,Spring and summer breaks was devastating to the pair of you.

It was just time it ended you presumed as you were both going opposite ways. It was hard leaving sirius, knowing you wouldn’t come back to him. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to continue to see each other but it was hard, it hurt seeing sirius move on and you’re sure it hurt him seeing you move on as well. That’s when you just stopped talking, only talking to James or Remus completely boxing sirius out of your life.

You sighed and sat up in bed giving up on going to sleep like this. You had on a soft grey and black sleep set,it was comfortable cotton the shorts were a little small though. Your sleeves were completely opposite the length of them practically covering your fingers,they covered your thumb and a good amount of your fingers too. Just a reminder your legs are longer then your arms.

You quietly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen grabbing a coffee mug and using the microwave and milk to make a cup of hot coco. You were sprinkling in small marshmallows on top of the light brown liquid. “Can’t sleep?” You jumped at the voice glad you hadn’t picked the mug up yet. “Siri? What’re you doing up” the nickname slipped out without you thinking. “Well, I think we are in the same boat.” Your eyes widened

Was he thinking about you to? thinking about all the good times and perfect times when you we’re together?

“We both really want hot coco” he said and you laughed your eyes moving back down to your cup. “Yeah…right.” You sighed and lifted the mug up as he moved around you repeating the steps you had just finished. “Since when didn’t you drink coffee?” He asked and you shrugged “wait…how’d you know I stopped drinking it?” You stopped drinking it 2 years ago,how’d he know about it. “Well you do talk a lot to my bestfriends and they aren’t exactly secret keepers” you snorted and sirius chuckled at you.

“It just overwhelms me” you lied and while he knew it was a lie sirius let it go and nodded. “Yeah, I get that feeling.” You sipped at the now warm liquid letting it filter heat into your body. “Your hair, it’s longer” he mentioned and you nodded. You had it pulled back earlier compared to now when it was down. You had always kept your hair short during school it never falling below your shoulders,now though it was below it way past below it, taking up a good portion of your back below it. “Why’d you grow it out?” You shrugged “why’d you cut yours?” You asked.

Sirius smiled behind his mug “touché” he said and a content silence fell around you as you both slowly sipped the liquid. “I started having nightmares again” you explained looking down at the floating marshmallows instead of him.

Nightmares,they- they were your thing. Childhood trauma really continued to run your world even in your 20’s. When they first started it was a month after you’d met sirius he’d always been there to help you through them. They normally only happened when you were extremely stressed,you’d spend days on end at his house just so you could get some sleep

Once it ended though you had no comfort when they’d strike, slowly physical touch just wasn’t something you can handle so now your hair is longer then usual. You didn’t want anyone else touching you….but sirius.

“I see” he said and eyed you even though you couldn’t see it. You sat your mug down lifting your arms up to stretch them, it showed off part of your stomach and Sirius felt his mouth go dry seeing your bare skin again. “Remus said your thinking about moving back” you nodded “yeah, I miss them and since I quit I don’t really have anything tying me there..” you trailed off and picked your mug back up.

Sirius grew quite and you looked up at him, his eyes were locked on you, your face. You watched as he slowly put his mug down walking across the small kitchen space to you and grabbing the mug from your hands. He sat it down next to you, his hands slowly made their way to your face giving you plenty of time to pull away. His hands touched your face,cupping your chin and rolling his thumbs over your cheeks. You closed your eyes at the moment breathing his scent while he did whatever he wanted.

You felt him move closer and before you realized his lips were pressed to yours. It was soft,passionate. It was full of need and longing. His lips tasted sweet from the hot chocolate and they were warm. His arm wrapped around your waist as he slowly pulled from the kiss,your eyes fluttered open and you stare up at him. His eyes were full of something you couldn’t quite place, rather it was want or lust or love you didn’t know.

He took a step back letting you go “uhm..good-Goodnight..” he made a quick exit after that his mug still half full with the chocolate liquid.

***

The next days passed by easily, you hung out with James who now felt good enough to get out of bed. Sirius avoided you like the plague and while it stung a bit after the whole thing in the kitchen you just left it be. “Do you think I could borrow the car?” You asked while you were braiding the small stands of James’ hair. “Yeah, what for?” Remus asked and you smiled “I wanted to look at some places down here” Remus nodded “you shouldn’t go alone” you waved him off.

“I’ll go with her” sirius voice cut through the room and your hands stopped for a minute before continuing. “Yeah! You two should go!” James encouraged and you smiled down at him. “I was thinking about tomorrow? When do you think you’ll get off?” You asked not looking at him just keeping your eyes on James.

“I’m off tomorrow, so that’s perfect” sirius said and you nodded “we’ll leave around noon” you said and sirius hummed in response disappearing up the stairs.

Remus knew about the other night, you had told him. He could also see how sirius was unintentionally hurting you,he got up and excused himself heading up the stairs to talk to his friend.

***

You’d thought it would be weird with sirius but it wasn’t, it was like you two fell right back into the routine you used to have when you’d hang out. You and him were both laughing practically the whole time as you moved from apartments to houses to anywhere else you wanted to go.

It felt normal again between the two of you,felt nice and comforting just like how it used to. You were pulled into a parking lot, it was raining heavy and you two couldn’t see properly so you were just waiting it out.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked and you nodded “of course, what’s up?” He got quiet for a minute before continuing. “I don’t know why I started avoiding you like I did…” you nodded urging him to continue “I just knew that you wouldn’t want to try for this again and I-” “who said that?” You interrupted and sirius raised his eyebrows at you. “I just assumed..” you smiled “well don’t.” You replied. Sirius cleared his throat “I shouldn’t have kissed you I’m really sorry.” You nodded “alright” “that’s it?” He asked and you nodded. “Sirius I don’t know what you were expecting? You regret kissing me that’s that” you said and sirius sighed getting quiet again.

“I don’t regret it” you said and sirius hummed. “I don’t regret that you kissed me” sirius swallowed thickly “you don’t?” You shook your head. “Siri I didn’t end this because I didn’t love you Or because I didn’t want to be with you. We wanted different things and you can’t force it to work” you sighed playing with the hem of the skirt you were wearing. “I loved you then, I still love you now Sirius.” You kept your eyes panned down not looking at him. “Oh…I-” “it stopped raining, we should head back” you interrupted.“Right…” He mumbled and drove back to remus’ home.

You were up late that night sorting through the houses and apartments you saw to try and decide which one you wanted. A knock sounded on your door and you turned towards it to see Sirius. “Hey Siri” you said turning back to your laptop. Sirius walked over to you and closed the electronic. “Wha- Siri I was working on-” “I love you” he said and you looked up at him “I’ve never stopped loving you and I’m not gonna stop now. I love you and I didn’t realize until I saw you again.” You smiled at him “Siri, what in the world are you talking about?” You said.

“I don’t want you to leave here thinking I regret kissing you I don’t, I just-” “shut up” you said and sirius looked down at you. You reached up and grabbed the back of his neck jerking him to your lips. What started out as a soft kiss like the other night quickly became heated his hands hook under your arms and lift you up. Your feet dangle for a moment before he throws you back on your bed,tearing your lips from his.

He was making quick work of his shirt and you tugged off yours as well. “You’re just as perfect as I remember” he breathed out taking in the sight of you after not seeing it for so long. You sat up tugging at his belt rather harshly. “Just as eager too” you giggled looking up at him with those doe eyes as you pull the belt loose.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to be stripped of anything you were wearing and for him to have you pinned under him. His hips smacking into yours over and over as you moan out,his cock hitting every perfect nerve inside you. “God I’ve missed this- fuck- missed fucking you puppy” you whined fingers gripping the sheets under you.

“You gonna cum? Hmm? Is my pup gonna cum for me?” You nodded quickly. Sirius reached around his hand finding your throat as he jerked you up to his chest fingers pressing into the side of your neck. Your head fell back on his shoulder and you whimper out choked moans. “Cmon, be a good girl and cum for me” his thrusting was sending you into overdrive.

Your head felt light from his grip on your throat and the heat that was pooling in your stomach was gonna burst any second. “I said cum.” His hand came down on your clit the slap sending you over the edge. Your legs trembled as Sirius held you up your orgasm jolting through you roughly. “That’s my good girl,yeah? Your body still listens to me so well” he placed soft kisses to your jaw stopping his hips until the aftershock wore off.

His hand released your throat and you sighed “can you keep going?” You nodded “wanna make you feel good” you smiled hazily and sirius was quick to go back to thrusting. It hurt just a bit,the soft overstimulation but it faded rather quickly.

“You feel so good pup,so Fucking good.” You moaned out your hips moving back to meet his pace. “Atta girl, make me cum. Cmon. Do it.make me cum puppy” your body clenched around him and he grunted “fuck- don’t do that” he huffed and you smirked clenching around him again. “Puppy.” He warned but you still did it again and this time you were met with a twitch inside you warmth filling you up after it.

“Fucking brat” he huffed a light smack coming down on your bottom. “I told you to stop that” you giggled biting your lip “I made you cum” you reminded him and he just chuckled. Sirius wasn’t really upset to begin with, he slowly pulled from you and you sighed feeling empty.

Sirius watched his cum drip from you and scooped up some of his spend on his fingers bringing it up to your lips. “Clean them.” You immediately wrapped your lips around his finger sucking them clean. You kept sucking against them after they were clean only letting go when he pulled them back.

“My good girl” he praised and kissed your head, the two of you got up after a few minutes and showered,cleaning yourself up. You got changed and slid into bed not expecting sirius to slide in on the other side. “Goodnight,pup” you smiled as he tugged you into his chest. “Goodnight,Siri”