#is there a way to turn someone's tags into regular text or must i continue turning words into jpgs like a savage?

[fisheito]

OMG. that means... Cloaca Crew........

WAIT.

✨C l o a c a C r e w✨

[hxseok-honee]

3005 || part 11

3005 [part 11] || "Perks of dating a Slytherin"

[no matter what you say and what you do // when i’m alone, i’d rather be with you]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : mayhaps i,,, went a little crazy,,, writing this,,,

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @lele-bb @monamone @unadulteratedlyunique @bluefaeriefury @hooniepie @loveyoongles @lilacdreams-00 @ramyagovindraj @skyrro @diminieshoe @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yuusilverscar @butterflylion @dingzerenistall @miki-chi @army-moa75 @drpepperobsessed @cecedrake2217 @somelazysundays @xxxanimangxxx @cosmicdaylight @navybluewonderland @itismochirice @dreadity @secretlycrazyhummingbird @taeshuworld @lochness-butmakeitsexy @beeeb05 @preciouschimine @thetrueghostqueen @sonderkook @pb-n-juju @aviwasabi21

a/n : there were some blogs that tumblr wouldnt let me tag -- sorry about that!

_________________________________

“Jeez, it’s insane in here -- we’re packed like sardines!” Y/n trails into the Three Broomsticks after Jimin and Tae, barely managing to catch the Ravenclaw’s complaint over the noise of the crowd. She’s barely made it in the door of the pub, but she can already see that she might be stuck there a while. It’s full to capacity, a sea of colored scarves and matching hats -- early November has brought nothing but cloudy mornings and chilly nights, the lower levels of Hogwarts particularly affected by the evening drafts. She’s lucky that Hufflepuff is kept at a consistent level of cozy warmth, but she can tell Slytherins must deal with constant cold by the way that Hoseok and Yoongi, who hover in the doorway behind her, have only draped their deep green scarves over thin long-sleeve shirts.

From the front, Jimin complains, trying to no avail to push through the mass of students and find a free table or even call dibs on one that’s busy. And even from behind Tae, Y/n can see the Gryffindor is pouting, which is entirely endearing, but she doesn’t get the chance to point it out to him -- there’s a hand on her waist, gently guiding her to the side. Another hand wraps around her wrist, this one shockingly warm against her cold skin, and she turns to see Yoongi pulling her in silently toward him while Hoseok brushes past her on the other side. The smaller Slytherin pulls her in close enough that she has to cross her eyes to properly see him, but he’s not even looking at her. He’s gazing expectantly in Hoseok’s direction.

Following his eyes, she sees that something of a miracle is occurring -- the mass is parting for Hoseok, students bumping into each other as they rush to get out of his way. He says nothing, simply making his way through the crowd and beckoning them in after him. Tae stumbles after Jimin, and Y/n only follows when Yoongi quietly moves his hand to the small of her back and nudges her in their direction. Before she can get too far from him, she feels his lips press against the shell of her ear as he whispers to her.

“Perks of dating a Slytherin -- nice, huh?” Y/n’s heart jumps to her throat, and she lurches forward slightly, putting distance between them. She still hears as he snickers behind her, but she ignores it and follows after Tae.

As she goes, she sees that, ahead of her, Hoseok has reached a round booth, just big enough to fit the five of them. There’s a couple of Ravenclaws that get there at the same time he does, and when he turns to look at them, Y/n can see exactly why the crowd had parted for him. He’s got a look in his eye -- nothing compared to the look he’d given Remus in the forest all those weeks ago -- but it’s almost as if he knows he doesn’t need it. His face is blank and his eyes are empty, something entirely terrifying to someone unfamiliar with Hoseok. He looks like a true Slytherin, one that commands obedience with his mere presence.

One of the Ravenclaws takes one look at Hoseok and is immediately stepping back, pulling his companion along with him. Hoseok only nods gratefully to them, clearly showing that he hadn’t meant to be intimidating -- it’s just who he is. Then he turns and waves them forward, Jimin rushing in a bit fast and shooting his housemates an apologetic smile. He slips into the booth, Tae following close behind. They file in like that, Hoseok sliding in after Yoongi and letting his hand fall comfortably to his boyfriend’s thigh once he’s settled. Y/n sees the movement and notes in the back of her mind with surprise that Hoseok’s hand is much bigger than expected -- it covers almost all of Yoongi’s thigh.

“See something you like, Princess?” Hoseok leans in to whisper it, but, judging by the looks of disgust that cross Jimin and Tae’s faces, he hadn’t been quiet enough.

“And on that note, I’m gonna order us some food!” Jimin scoots out of the booth, making a beeline for the bar as Taehyung reaches dramatically after his best friend. He turns back, resigning himself to the strange dynamic of the trio before him. But Y/n only scoots in to cling to his arm, smiling up at him, and the Gryffindor relaxes.

“So, is there anywhere you guys need to go after lunch? Jimin and I want to stop at Honeydukes!” Hoseok nods along to Taehyung’s request, humming in consideration.

“I could really go for some jelly slugs…” Y/n and Tae stare at him in disbelief, unsure if he’s just messing with them. The idea that Jung Hoseok -- the guy that had just moved an entire crowd for them with no more than a look -- could enjoy something so… sugary… is beyond them. But apparently, it’s a topic of regular conversation in the 7th year Slytherin boys’ dorm.

“I told you, that shit’s bad for your teeth--”

“Says the one who sits in class chewing on sugar quills instead of using a real quill to take notes.” Hoseok cuts Yoongi off with finality, challenging him to continue, but the shorter boy only grimaces and mumbles under his breath about Jimin taking too long. Y/n and Taehyung look to each other for answers, only finding more confusion.

When Jimin does finally return -- somehow managing to balance 5 plates of food in his arms -- the group settles in to eat, chatting about various things until they finish their food. It’s nice, Y/n decides, to hang out with friends she doesn’t always find herself with. Although she’d become rather close with Jimin and Taehyung recently, she’d spent every Hogsmeade weekend with Jin and Namjoon until now, so this is all still relatively new to her.

It’s especially new to hang out so closely with Yoongi and Hoseok -- she admits that she’d definitely gotten comfortable with them since the day that Yoongi had claimed her bed as his own while she’d had a strangely deep heart to heart with Hoseok, but she still feels slightly tense around them. Their constant flirting has been more than disarming, but it flusters her most when they’re right in front of her. At least when they’re texting, she can hide in the comfort of her room, but here… she has nowhere to run if they decide to start teasing her.

As if to drag her out of her thoughts by proving her right, the warmth of a palm sliding across the expanse of her thigh startles her back to reality. She glances down quickly, taking in the fact that there is actually a hand on her leg, before following the arm up to its owner. Hoseok only eyes her with confusion, having reached across Yoongi to get her attention.

Turning quickly to Taehyung, she looks up at him with confused panic, as if to confirm that she’s not hallucinating. The Gryffindor’s already staring down at her leg, having seen the movement out of the corner of his eye. He meets her gaze with wide eyes before turning away, as if to tell her it’s none of his business what she gets up to with Hoseok in the middle of this pub. When she tries to lean in further for his attention, Tae only turns his whole body away from her, sipping at his drink and denying her silent plea for assistance with feigned ignorance.

He catches Jimin’s eye in doing so, and the Ravenclaw glances over quickly, his gaze catching on Hoseok’s ringed fingers resting on the inside seam of Y/n’s jeans. Immediately, Jimin’s choking on his food, turning away with reddening ears as he puts his napkin up to his mouth. Hoseok looks around, eyes wide with confusion at the reactions he’s getting. Yoongi only closes his eyes and nods, fully having expected this chain of commotion in the booth.

Y/n looks down at the hand in her lap once more, hating that the only thing coming to mind is that now she can definitely confirm that Hoseok’s hand is as large as she’d noted previously. She stares down at it, scandalized, only coming back to reality when Hoseok squeezes her thigh, drawing her attention back to him. He’s smiling, but it’s filled with bemusement.

“Princess, I’ve been talking to you for like five minutes -- where was your head?”

It was thinking about yo--

Y/n blinks, shaking her head both to answer Hoseok and to rid herself of the intrusive thought she’d just had. She looks to Yoongi quickly, terrified that he might somehow be sitting close enough to have heard the unexpected words that had crossed her mind. He’s examining her carefully out of the corner of his eye, but his face is void of emotion except for the hint of amusement in his gaze. When she makes eye contact with him, he leans in, holding her gaze and whispering to her in a low voice.

“He’s only trying to give you your potion for today -- are your thoughts wandering somewhere they shouldn’t be, babe?” Y/n leans away the closer Yoongi gets, deciding they’re both much too close for comfort. Pulling her leg gently from Hoseok’s grasp, she scoots in the booth until she’s flush with Taehyung, who continues to sip at his drink with vigor, as if he hadn’t just heard the entire exchange. She’s about to force the Gryffindor to acknowledge her existence and help her, but there’s another hand falling to her lap, this one different but warm all the same.

It’s Yoongi’s, and while he has his palm turned up toward her -- a vial filled with familiar contents sitting innocently there -- the contact is enough to have Taehyung elbowing Jimin urgently, decidedly finished with his lunch. The Ravenclaw scoots toward the edge of the booth, taking one last gulp of his butterbeer before gesturing vaguely at his coat pocket, where his phone sits untouched.

“Text from Namjoon -- bookstore -- gotta meet hi-- bye!” Wrapping his hand around Taehyung’s wrist, he pulls the boy with him out of the booth, and with that, the two of them disappear into the crowd and out the door. Y/n stares after them, panic seeping into every fiber of her being as she turns slowly to face the two Slytherins she’s been left alone with. Hoseok’s also staring at the spot their friends had disappeared into, but Yoongi only presses his hand further into Y/n’s lap, urging her to take the vial.

“Full moon’s tomorrow -- drink up, babe.”

--

“No, that has to be a fucking joke -- you’re lying to me--”

“I’m not lying! I hiked my ass up that fucking tree and sat there throwing sticks at this girl so she would stop hurting herself until 5 o’clock in the morning!” Y/n groans and hides behind her hands, laughing out of sheer humiliation while Hoseok retells the story of the night they’d met -- the night she’d almost killed him. Yoongi leans his head back against the booth and breathes out a laugh, unable to believe what he’s just heard. He turns to Y/n, reaching out and tugging on her wrists until her eyes appear from behind her hands.

“Thank you very much for not ripping my boyfriend to shreds before I could confess. I would have been pissed.” She pulls her wrist from Yoongi’s grasp, pushing at his shoulder with another groan. She notices out of the corner of her eye that Hoseok’s gesturing silently toward the bar, holding up three fingers before pointing at their table -- their third set of refills in the last two hours. The glint of the metal bands on his fingers catches her attention, and she swallows hard as she returns her gaze to Yoongi’s face. The look he’s giving her tells her he’s caught her staring, but he only smiles when she clears her throat and attempts to move on.

“I just think it’s ridiculous that -- for someone who claims to be obsessed with magizoology and all things magical creatures -- Hoseok didn’t think ahead before wandering out to the Forbidden Forest on a full moon night.” Hoseok cracks a smile, rolling his eyes good-naturedly at her jab before focusing in on the waiter that’s sliding three fresh butterbeers onto their table. He slips the man a tip with a quick thanks, man, before pushing two of the drinks over to Y/n and Yoongi. There’s something so effortlessly smooth about the way Hoseok had handled the entire interaction -- as mundane and simple as it’d been -- that sets Y/n’s nerves on fire, and she accepts the drink shyly. Her mind flashes back to the one time she’d been here with her brother and his friends, the way Remus had stumbled over his words and almost spilled his drink on the table. It isn’t as cute to her now as it was back then--

Wait, what the hell?

“Princess?” She looks up from her drink and finds both Hoseok and Yoongi staring at her, heads tilted in matching confusion. Hoseok’s eyes flick down to her drink, and he gestures toward the bar with his thumb. “You’ve been drinking them cold this whole time, but I can get you something else if you don’t want it--”

“No! No… Thank you. This is good.” Hoseok stops short at her outburst, Yoongi’s eyebrows lifting past his fringe in surprise. Y/n only looks between them for a moment before lifting the drink to her lips awkwardly. When she sets it down again, she doesn’t notice the line of foam stretching across her top lip. The boys focus in on it, Yoongi taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he decidedly leans toward her after a moment. Resting two fingers under her chin, he swipes his thumb slowly over her mouth, sitting back and sticking that same thumb in his mouth to clean the sugar off his skin when he’s done. Hoseok watches the exchange with unwavering intensity, following the path of Yoongi’s hand all the way to the smaller boy’s mouth. Y/n doesn’t realize she’s done the same.

Seeing that he’s being stared at, Yoongi smiles awkwardly, leaning his elbows on the table as the tips of his ears turn pink. Looking to his boyfriend, he opens his mouth.

“So… it’s your fault you almost died?” Hoseok blinks, the moment gone. Y/n takes another sip of her drink, giving herself time to hide behind the large mug that covers much of her reddening face when she tilts it back. She swipes self-consciously at her mouth with her sleeve when she’s done, hoping they wouldn’t have to repeat the intimate display from before. She thinks that, if not for the fact that she’s found herself sensitized to the sound of Hoseok’s voice, she would have missed his response.

“Alright, I feel like I have to defend myself here -- I mean, I was 13 and way too excited about finding that pack of sentient wolves I’d read about. You really can’t blame me for not expecting there to be students of Y/n’s… special nature.” Hoseok glances around the pub inconspicuously, and Y/n finds herself covered in goosebumps when he lowers his voice at the end.

What the hell is happening to me?

Y/n blinks quickly, willing her frazzled state to just disappear, and focuses on what he’d said previously instead. She meets his eyes, sighing slightly when she sees that he’s already peering at her, thoroughly entertained by whatever it is that he’s finding on her face.

“So--” Hoseok straightens, discarding whatever he’d been thinking about to pay attention. “--are you just a total magizoology nerd then? Is that what you wanna do after graduation?” As if he hadn’t been expecting her genuine interest in his life, Hoseok bows his head slightly at her question, visibly shy. Beside him, Yoongi smiles fondly, and Y/n’s reminded of that day in the forest, when their roles had been switched.

“Oh… Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m interested in…” Hoseok trails off, but Y/n watches Yoongi nudge him almost teasingly, urging him to continue what he hadn’t wanted to say before. “I-uh-- I’ve been looking at internships at St. Mungo’s, but I really don’t think I’m gonna get--”

“He’s going to get in. They’d be crazy not to take him.” Yoongi interrupts him, practically beaming with pride. “How could they not? He’s got real passion for it, it’s obvious. I’m kinda jealous -- I wish I could do something cool like that.” Hoseok takes a sip of his drink, clearly doing what Y/n had done earlier to hide from them, but she lets it slide with a teasing glance when he meets her eyes over the rim of the glass. Turning to Yoongi, she hums, noting that he doesn’t seem fazed at all with admitting something about his future.

“You can’t do something cool like that?” She doesn’t mean to pry, but even after she realizes that the question could be sensitive, Yoongi only breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. She’s relieved he hadn’t taken any kind of offense.

“Nah -- my parents are what you’d call… elitist freaks. They’ve got a serious hard-on for that psychopath running around with his cult, so… I’m honestly lucky if I make it out of this war with all my morals intact.” She is deeply unprepared for Yoongi’s response, the sudden heartbreak she’s experiencing only worsened by the fact that he says it with a straight face, as if he’d long resigned himself to the truth of his words. When he sees the look on her face, Yoongi’s expression softens, and he tilts his head to look at her, his eyes twinkling with endearment.

“Don’t pout at me like that, babe -- you're making me want to kiss it better.” If Y/n hadn’t been expecting that comment, Hoseok really hadn’t been expecting it. He chokes on his butterbeer immediately, waving at Y/n frantically when she tries to help. Slamming his drink down on the table, Hoseok grabs Yoongi, pulling the smaller boy to him, hiding his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder while he finishes his coughing fit. Yoongi only pats his back, making a face of playful disgust at being used as a napkin.

“Well, now that Hoseok’s thoroughly embarrassed himself and his Slytherin reputation in front of, like, a million people, I think it’s time we go get him his jelly slugs.” Yoongi nudges his boyfriend out of the booth, gesturing with a nod of his head for Y/n to follow as he sets some money on the table and slides out of the booth.

In contrast to the way Hoseok had entered the Three Broomsticks, he leaves with his head bowed, ears red as he slouches his way to the door. Yoongi chuckles from behind Y/n, shaking his head as he guides her through the crowd with his hand on her waist.

“Look at him go -- my tall, embarrassed boyfriend. How cute. Gotta get him his jelly slugs.” He says all this like he’s talking to himself -- not quite in full sentences, each word full of a kind of exasperated adoration that Y/n finds impossibly cute. Yoongi’s shaking his head like he’s disappointed by Hoseok’s rare awkwardness, but he’s smiling like he’s in love. Y/n feels both giddy by the display of affection and strange that she’s granted this kind of access to their relationship. She feels torn, quite frankly. Like she shouldn’t be allowed to see this side of them.

By the time they finally reach Honeydukes, Hoseok has regained his confidence, going so far as to walk backwards while he talks to them. It’s ridiculous, really, the way he changes before her eyes -- the slouching boy from before transforms into the arrogant Hoseok she knows well, the one who practically hangs off of her now, looking for any excuse to touch her. One hand pulls at her scarf, adjusting it, while the other grabs for her fingertips, asking with a smirk if she’d like him to warm her up before linking their fingers together playfully. Yoongi only follows along, smiling and feigning innocence when Y/n turns to him for help.

They’re so busy causing chaos amongst themselves that they don’t notice another group headed straight for the doors of Honeydukes -- when Y/n does finally see them, she’s startled simply because, in any other case on any other day, she would have noticed them from a mile away.

“Y/n, hi!” Remus smiles wide at her, waving excitedly when he catches her attention. Y/n stops short, shocked by his sudden appearance which, really, is not all that sudden. “I texted you to see if you wanted to meet up today, but I guess luck’s on our side, huh?” Making a noise of surprise, she reaches for her coat pocket, where her phone remains unchecked. She hadn’t even felt the vibrations of a notification, too distracted by Hoseok and Yoongi.

As she’s checking her phone -- and seeing that she does, in fact, have an unseen message from Remus -- she misses the way James’ gaze hones in on where her hand is still attached to Hoseok’s, but she certainly feels when Hoseok rips his hand from hers and stuffs it into the pocket of his jeans. Looking up in confusion, she finds that he’s not looking at her, only staring with determination at the display in the Honeydukes window. He looks conflicted, almost guilty, and when she turns to the Marauders, the expression of scandalized surprise on James and Sirius’ faces tells her why. If Remus had seen them holding hands, his face betrays nothing.

“I’m gonna just… go get my jelly slugs. I’ll see you inside.” Hoseok brushes past her, leaving her there with Remus as he heads into the sweets shop. Yoongi looks after his boyfriend, and Y/n sees him start to follow but stop in his tracks, choosing in the end to remain beside her. The decision throws her, but she’s learned that Yoongi doesn’t do anything without thinking it through first, so she lets it go. Turning to the boys, she smiles sweetly, addressing them with surprising ease, considering she’s in the company of her childhood crush.

“Did you guys just get here? I didn’t see you at the Three Broomsticks at all.” James shakes his head, pushing away the memory of her display of physical affection with Hoseok as he responds. Sirius, however, continues to squint suspiciously, looking between her and Yoongi as he hovers near Remus.

“Nah, we were just at Zonko’s for like two hours -- gotta stock up, you know.” He shakes a large plastic bag filled with tricks and pranks for effect, and Y/n steps forward to peer inside.

“Woah… I can only imagine how many detentions this’ll get you.” The boys all laugh at how well she knows them, but Sirius leans in with a conspiratorial grin.

“Say, Y/n -- I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever! Why’s that, hm?” Y/n meets his eyes, lost.

“What do you mean? We talk all the time--”

“Well, yeah, but with your brother glued to Jin now, our crew’s been feeling so… empty these days. The Telepathy Twins have abandoned us!” He drapes himself over Remus’ back and cries out dramatically as he finishes complaining, something that has Y/n rolling her eyes with a smile.

“I’ve been here, Sirius -- we can hang out whenever you want!” Sirius perks up, leaning in toward her face with a sly grin.

“How ‘bout now?” Y/n lifts a single eyebrow, leaning away from him with a look of disbelief.

“Now? But…” She’s about to say that she’s busy and can’t leave with them, even if Remus is right there offering to hang out. But her hesitation sets Yoongi on edge, and he steps in quickly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her back toward him. When she’s close enough, he takes his arm and throws it around her waist, moving behind her as he pulls her flush against his chest. She’s suddenly trapped against him, something made more clear in the way Yoongi leans his chin on her shoulder. She can almost feel the smirk spread across his lips as he speaks, his voice vibrating against the shell of her ear.

“Sorry boys, but Y/n’s really hard to get a hold of these days. Hoseok and I barely managed to reserve time with her today -- what kind of person would I be if I just let you steal her away from us?” Y/n’s not sure what to do with the show Yoongi’s putting on, and she knows by the way his arm is firm against her waist that he’s not letting her go anytime soon.

She watches lamely as Sirius hums contemplatively, having expected some sort of reaction from Yoongi but not quite this. Remus’ eyebrows lift in surprise as his gaze drops to the arm wrapped around her, but he doesn’t say anything. James is the first to respond, shaken from his shock at Yoongi’s bold move by the realization that this looks not unlike a literal standoff right in front of a crowded shop.

“Well, we’ll just have to schedule our own time later on, then, won’t w-- oh!” He reacts when the doorbell above the Honeydukes door rings out, revealing Hoseok as he exits, holding a bag of jelly slugs and sugar quills for Yoongi. There are a couple chocolate bars in his hand, something he knows helps Y/n after the full moon. He’s so busy sifting through his bag that it takes him a second to see the scene he’s just walked into.

When he does look up, he’s stopping short, eyes trained evenly on the compromising position his boyfriend’s in. Whatever thoughts are crossing his mind in that moment are unseen on his face, his eyes unblinking as they pass over Yoongi’s arm, Yoongi’s chin, Yoongi’s lips pressed against Y/n’s ear as she’s pressed against his chest. They all stand there for a moment, frozen, waiting for Hoseok to react.

And then he’s blinking, looking away as he moves toward Remus and holds out one of the chocolate bars in his hand. Remus takes it, uncertain of what’s happening in Hoseok’s head right now. The Slytherin explains with one line and a polite smile.

“You look tired.” He’s not wrong -- Remus’ eyes show his exhaustion, his face and shoulders more slouched than usual as his body fights against the force of the moon, almost full. He looks how Y/n feels inside, but the adrenaline from the day spent with Hoseok and Yoongi -- apparently not yet over -- had kept her from feeling the full effects of the near future. Now that Hoseok’s mentioning it, Y/n feels herself start to become drained of energy, something that she knows Yoongi notices when she shifts in his arms and he tightens his hold on her.

Remus takes the chocolate with a tired smile, thanking Hoseok under his breath. And then he’s leaning around the Slytherin to wave kindly -- albeit a bit awkwardly -- at Y/n and Yoongi, still entangled in each other’s limbs.

“Good luck tomorrow, Y/n -- let me know if you need me, okay?” It’s innocent, it truly is. And Y/n’s grateful for it, the way Remus has always looked out for her. But the way Hoseok glances over his shoulder at her, his eyes appearing almost resigned, leaves her unsettled. And when the tips of Yoongi’s fingers dig into her side, betraying his annoyance with the comment, Y/n can’t help the fluttering feeling that rushes into the pit of her stomach. A feeling strictly reserved for Remus -- until now.

She waves awkwardly as they go, painfully aware of the sudden wave of crisp air hitting her back when Yoongi finally steps away from her. He holds his hand out for Hoseok’s bag, offering to carry it. Hoseok hands him the sweets, passing Y/n her chocolate bar without a word. The three of them are quiet as they exchange items, none of them quite certain how to proceed from what had just happened. Y/n feels guilty, like she’s the reason Hoseok and Yoongi are silent with each other.

Then, Hoseok’s turning to her, decidedly ignoring the entire situation with an easy grin. But there, in his eyes, is a glint of mischief, something teasing and light but intense enough to tell her that he won’t be forgetting about this moment for a long time, and that ignites something in her that she’s never felt before -- not even with Remus. It sends her heartbeat straight to her ears, muffling everything around her as her stomach drops in a way that she can’t bring herself to describe negatively. She barely registers Hoseok’s hand on her elbow, calling for her attention as he directs a bright smile at her.

“Ready to go, Princess?”

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Found - Rudy, Mason, and Clyde

The end! Of the arc! Whooo this has been fun! Thanks to all who read. (i'm not down with them as oc's but this arc is over.)

TW: whumper as caretaker, stressed whumper/caretaker, distant whumper/caretaker, drugging tw, implied changing of clothes, implied bathing,

[Masterlist] [Stalker Arc Tag]

Mason was sitting at his desk, vigorously typing an email to the support of every social media platform he could. They weren’t giving him anything, even though he knew that they had the information. They must - companies are always doing shit like that. Tracking. Monitoring. They knew who this creep was and they were protecting them.

At this point, he was ready to get his lawyer involved if he got yet another generic-reply email.

Clyde was curled under his desk. He hadn’t done that in years, not since he was new and very attached to his new Master. Mason trained it out of him a while ago, but something about the familiar place was safe for him right now. So, Mason allowed it.

His phone rang and he reached for it automatically. There had been a lot of calls over the last couple days, and he was nearly fed up with them.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mason Driver?”

He took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It is, who is speaking?”

“Hi this is Amber from the Lakefield Pet Shelter? We have your pet here-”

Mason stood quickly, accidentally kicking Clyde in the process. “Ah, fuck, sorry bud. Is he okay? Who brought him in? Is he hurt? Where is Lakefield I want to come pick him up-”

“Sir, sir, please slow down. He’s okay, he’s got a sprained ankle and is a little roughed up in general, but he’s okay. You can come pick him up at any time, someone from the local department already came and spoke to him.”

A strange sense of anger swelled in him for a moment that someone questioned his pet without him there, but he shoved it away quickly. Other things to focus on, other things he had to do. The woman was still talking but Mason was distracted looking for his keys.

“Can I pick him up tonight? Now?”

There was a small pause. “Yes, Mr. Driver, you can come get him tonight.” After a couple other bits of information, Mason left the house to go get his pet.

Clyde crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his sore hand, a bit confused but hopeful he was understanding half the conversation correctly.

~~

The first thing Mason felt when he saw Rudy hobble out to meet him was relief. Relief that he was back, he was safe, that he was here. Then it was anger. Anger and resentment at the brace around the boy’s ankle, the wraps around his wrists and neck, the bandaids on his face. He had to force his face to remain happy and neutral when he saw the bruise on Rudy’s temple.

“Master!” he cried, nearly falling into the kneeling man’s arms. Mason held him close, arms wrapped around.

“Rudy, thank fucking god you’re okay. I was so worried, oh my god. When I find out who took you I’m gonna-”

“Y-you, you know him, Master,” came Rudy’s muffled voice and Mason pulled him away, held tight by his shoulders.

“What?! Who, who the hell would do that? Someone that I know?”

“It was C-Casey, Master.”

Mason’s face grew grave, clenching his teeth. He should have fucking known. Of course, of fucking course Casey would pull some shit like this. Obviously Mason had called out of work, didn’t care what was going on back at the office during the few days Rudy was gone.

Rudy whimpered and Mason released his right grip. “Oh, I’m sorry Sweetheart. God, that fucking snake. I’m going to ruin his whole goddamn life, just wait and see if I don’t completely blacklist him. He’ll never fucking work with pets again.”

“Sir,” hinted one of the workers, reminding Mason of the other people in the lobby. He didn’t care.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

The worker nodded and gestured for them to come up to the counter. “He’s ready to go, just need to go over some paperwork and at home care for the other injuries.”

Rudy pressed himself into Mason side as the man’s brow furrowed. “Other injuries? What happened?”

“He’s a little bit dehydrated, but that should go away in a day or two. The bandages around his wrists and neck are to keep him at scratching at the healing skin, so you’ll need to keep those and on use this ointment that’s listed here. Same for the welts on his back. His ankle is sprained but not too badly, so follow up with your regular provider for that. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Mason swallowed and signed the forms without another word, not trusting himself to say something he’d regret. Besides, it wasn’t their fault.

On the way out, he was already calling his lawyer to get every medical expense taken out of Casey - money or blood.

~~

Clyde was at the door, bouncing at his heels as the key turned. He had been looking out the window, saw when they pulled up. Saw when Rudy got out of the car! He was limping but he was there. He was home.

The older pet nearly knocked him over as they came through the door. Mason had to grab him by the back of his collar to drag him off.

“Clyde! Back! You know better what the hell,” Mason muttered, setting him down on the ground a foot or two away. Clyde looked up at him, clearly wanting to go back to Rudy. Mason rubbed his temples, too tired and frustrated and betrayed to deal with this.

“Room.”

Both boys whimpered, Rudy tugging on the hem of Mason’s shirt to silently plead him not to. “Now, Clyde. He’s fine. Just go upstairs so you’re not underfoot.”

Clyde gave him such wide, hurt, miserable eyes that Mason nearly took it all back. He sighed, but held firm. He said what he said and Clyde needed to obey that. With another glance back at his friend. Clyde crept up the stairs. Rudy whined after him over Mason's shoulder as the man picked him up and carried him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The boy whimpered as Mason walked away, but quieted after a shush.

Mason stood in the kitchen, holding onto the counter and stared at the tile backsplash. Why was this so hard? Rudy was back, he was going to be fine, the police found Casey and his lawyer said his case was good over the phone. He shouldn’t feel so tense, so tight-wound and anxious. The boy was right out there - why couldn’t Mason accept it?

He rubbed a hand across his short stubble and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, along with a drink for Rudy. He just needed time, he guessed. Needed to sleep, and probably eat something, and he’d calm down. Meandering back into the living room, he texted his boss that he was taking some personal time off.

Rudy was curled up on against the armrest, tears bright in his eyes. Mason regretted snapping at him, at both of them, but it would pass. They probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow.

“Hey bud, drink up. How are you feeling, are you hurting?” He asked as he opened the lid for him.

The boy grabbed the bottle and took a sip, nodding slowly. “I, I’m okay.” His lip was quivering, breath shallow and shaky.

“I missed you,” he confessed as he broke, reaching up for Mason who immediately sat down with him. “I m-missed you s-so much, and Clyde, and h-home, I wanted to get away. I was so scared and c-confused and he was mean and hurt me and-”

Mason shushed him gently, pulling him close and petting his hair. “I know, I know Sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened - I promise, it will never happen again.”

“He wrote on m-my, my scan-y thing,” Rudy said, itching at the side of his shirt. “And, and he took my collar and made me wear a muzzle that cut my mouth and I didn’t eat because- because I just couldn’t and-”

Mason shushed him again, and this time took his drink so he could really lay the boy down. Poor thing was spiraling, clearly over-stressed and exhausted too. “Shh, Rudy, you need to relax. You’re okay.”

“-he, he made me so confused, Master,” Rudy continued, seemingly unable to stop confessing everything that had happened. “I-I know I belonged to you, because, because of m-my collar and my chip but he made me wear his collar and I started to get confused and forget and uh, hng, I, I think I might have called him Master once and I’m sorry! He wasn’t always bad and one time he pet my hair and I tried to struggle but I didn’t that time and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay woah bud you need to slow down. You’re okay, you don’t have to talk about all this right now. I know, I know.” A pause as Mason thought. “Do I need to get something to calm you down?”

“I think I was bad?” Rudy started again, rubbing his eyes and hiccuping. He wasn’t listening to what Mason was saying, which was a kind of answer in itself. He was just more convinced of his choice as when he stood, the boy kept muttering confessions to himself. He’d have to re-visit some training in the next couple days, he reconned, just to correct some thoughts that asshole had implanted.

Rudy took the pill unusually well, words petering out until he was quiet. Mason rubbed his head just the way he knew the boy loved, listening to the unconscious hums of contentment.

“Lets get you to bed early tonight, hm? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.”

He seemed much heavier, now that he was out of it. Mason still got him upstairs, sat him on the bathroom counter to clean him up a little. It also gave him a better chance to see Rudy’s injuries without the boy wiggling and squirming everywhere.

It made his blood boil.

He had seen worse, he had definitely seen worse just walking down the street but that didn’t fucking matter. Rudy was his, and he had not given permission for someone to treat his pet like this. The muzzle had clearly been too tight, chafing and rubbing the sides of his face raw. Same for the collar, and the scratch marks from where Rudy had been clearly trying to get it off. Bruises on his hands and knees, what seemed like a bit of blood in his hair.

Mason cleaned him up the best he could, until the only proof left visible were the bandages and bandaids. He changed those, too, to some colorful ones he had for the boys. Rudy would like those better when he was awake.

After changing him into his pajamas, Mason carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed. He sighed and went to go get Clyde.

Clyde was in his room, standing in his pajamas right by the door. The boy had obviously been crying, gently cradling his bruised hand. Mason picked it up carefully, examining it.

“Shit, did I do that, Bugs?” he said, convicted. Clyde didn’t really answer him, eyes glancing from him to the door repeatedly. Mason sighed with a tired smile.

“Yeah, go see him.”

In a flash the boy was gone, down the hall to be with his friend. Mason turned the light off in their room before he went to join them.

Finally, back together. As they should be.

~

tag: @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee @whumpeesblog @suspicious-whumping-egg

[sunlit-squid]

(simping softness prompts) could i get some “hey, everything's gonna be fine. stay where you are, i'm on my way” or “holy crap, i thought you were dead! never do that to me again!” if you are feeling so inclined? sorry im just in love w ur writing

For those who don't know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I'll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

i'm gonna do "hey, everything's gonna be fine ...", but don't you worry. i will also be doing "holy crap ..." at some point, since someone else requested it.

anyway, thanks for the prompt, and for the kind words! while we're here, i should also say that @wowthwtslame is doing a similar ficlet challenge. their writing is wonderful, so definitely check them out!

also tagging @azumeowth, who requested the same prompt!

ficlet under the cut. thanks again!

The call came in -- loudly -- at around 2 in the morning.

When Squidward rolled over to check his shell phone, the dull blue screen read, simply, “SpongeBrat”, accompanied by a vomit emoji. Sighing, the octopus put his phone on silent and went back to bed. Surely whatever it was the sponge wanted to blabber about could wait until tomorrow. After a decent night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep was hard to come by. Despite having switched his phone to silent, the device’s small blue screen continued to light up repeatedly, like a small, pathetic rave. Every few seconds, the small blue light cast peculiar shadows on the walls of Squidward’s bedroom. Eventually, after thirty minutes of tossing and turning, the cephalopod grabbed his phone to shove it inside the nightstand -- when he caught a glimpse of the screen itself.

43 missed calls. 37 unread text messages. All from “SpongeBrat” Squarepants.

The phone rang again. This time, Squidward picked up.

“Spongebob, do you have any idea what time it is?” snapped Squidward, despite the uncomfortable, worried feeling growing in his stomach. “No? Well, I’ll tell you -- it is two-forty-seven --”

“I-I know, Squidward,” came a small, shaking Spongebob-voice. “I just -- I didn’t know what to do.”

Squidward paused. Well, that was … not the regular Spongebob volume. Or tone. Or pitch.

“Squ -- Squidward?” came the sponge’s soft, sad voice once more. The frycook’s voice was barely audible. There was some sort of loud, constant whooshing happening on the other end, not to mention a weird crackling noise, which made it very difficult to hear. Squidward sighed, wiping a tentacle across his eyes.

“I’m here,” said Squidward. “What’s this about, Spongebob?”

Silence. Then, crying -- and not Spongebob’s usual loud, obnoxious crying. This crying was quiet and gentle, barely decipherable against the loud whooshing on the other end of the line. Squidward sat up then, pressing the phone close to his ear.

“Sponge,” said Squidward, panic rising in his chest. “Sponge, what’s wrong?”

Spongebob sobbed something indiscernible. Then, he stammered, “I’m -- I’m hurt, Squidward. I’m hurt, and … I’m lost.”

Something funny exploded in Squidward’s chest. Before he knew it, the octopus was out of bed, scrambling for his jacket and keys. Gripping his shell phone tight, Squidward asked, “Where are you? What’s going on, Spongebob?”

On the other end of the line, Spongebob snuffled. “I got on the wrong bus,” he explained, in a shaky, uneven voice. “I -- I’m in a place called ‘Deviltown’ now, and the current is so strong, and the signal is pretty bad --” There was that distorted, crackling sound again -- followed by a few more broken whimpers.

Squidward sighed, feeling his hearts crack with every little sob. “Hey, everything’s going to be fine,” he said, stepping out the door and into the cool Bikini Bottom night. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

-0-

Deviltown, it turned out, was several hours away from Bikini Bottom. Squidward’s shell phone indicated the drive not only went straight, but downward -- which was certainly a problem. Oceanic towns grew more and more dangerous the deeper you went, and Deviltown was apparently thousands of nautical leagues under the sea. Wherever Spongebob was, even the sun couldn’t reach him.

Undeterred, Squidward set off on his journey. His boat was constantly maintained, so the cephalopod was certain it could handle the perilous road ahead.

For the first hour or so, the drive was uneventful -- peaceful, even. The streets were smooth and well taken care of, which was good considering the massive tax hike this past year. Squidward even put on some Kelpy G, which certainly helped to soothe his nerves.

Later on, however, the drive got worse. The once well-maintained roads gave way to rickety rocks and slippery sand, with only a few sporadic road signs to get by. Moonlight became sparse, and by the time Squidward reached a vertical road, he had his brights all the way up -- and was still struggling to see.

A nearby rickety sign read “Deviltown, 10 nautical miles downward.” Peering down into the deep abyss, Squidward gulped. Despite his headlights, he still couldn’t see a thing -- just a vast expanse of open blackness.

A tight feeling wound itself around Squidward’s chest. He thought about backing up, turning around, and going straight home. This was ridiculous. Why was he out here, in the wee hours of the morning, chasing after SpongeBrat Squarepants, of all people? The boy had other friends. Certainly one of them would be willing to retrieve him.

Squidward’s tentacle hovered just over the gear stick. That’s when he saw it: in his passenger seat lay Spongebob’s wrinkled little jacket. The sponge must have left it behind the other day, when Squidward (begrudgingly) drove them both home from work.

Squidward’s chest felt hollow, suddenly. He thought of how many times he’d seen Spongebob in that exact jacket over the years.

He thought of never seeing him in that jacket ever again.

Groaning, the octopus switched gears from “Drive” to “Drive, But Downward”, and puttered his way into the deep and black abyss.

-0-

The journey into the inky black was, bar none, one of the creepiest things Squidward had ever experienced. He told himself, repeatedly, that if he just stared straight ahead and focused on the task at hand, then everything would be fine. Still, hearing creepy noises in the darkness (and being unable to see where they came from) was severely unsettling.

After what felt like forever, the vertical road became horizontal once again, and Squidward finally drove into Deviltown. Luckily, the town had the decency to set up some lamp posts, possibly for out-of-towners like Squidward who were unused to the darkness. Still, the lamp posts were few and far between, and there was nobody out and about, giving Deviltown a fittingly creepy vibe nonetheless.

Tense, cold, and worried, Squidward drove further into town, squinting for Spongebob’s bright yellow body. Surely the boy couldn’t be that hard to spot -- he was likely the only vibrant thing down here. Surely --

Oh. Oh, no.

Squidward brought his boat careening to a stop. Clambering out of it, the octopus made his way over to a rickety wooden bus stop, with a flickering lamp post just overhead. On a bench nearby was none other than Spongebob Squarepants: cold, alone, and unconscious. For a moment, a horrible thought passed through Squidward’s head -- is he dead? -- before he saw the sponge’s chest rise and fall, taking slow and steady breaths.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Squidward looked up and down the street. No one in sight.

Gently, the octopus leaned down and shook Spongebob lightly. “Hey,” said Squidward, awkwardly. “What are you doing asleep all the way out here? We have work tomorrow, you know.”

Spongebob stirred. In the dim light, Squidward realized the sponge really was hurt -- his usually spiffy shirt and tie were ripped straight down the middle. Beyond the fabric, the sponge’s chest was badly torn up, too, and for some reason, he had not regenerated yet.

Squidward swallowed. “Spongebob?”

The sponge stirred once more. This time, his eyes opened -- and he smiled, weakly. “Squidward,” he slurred, happily. He tried to laugh, then winced, clutching at his stomach and chest. “Squidward, it’s you … you came … ”

“Of course I came,” muttered Squidward, before he could stop himself. “I -- you … ugh, I hate you.”

Scooping up Spongebob, Squidward gently carried him over to the boat, positioning him carefully in the passenger’s seat. The sponge fussed a little about being buckled in, but otherwise, seemed too out of it to complain properly. Taking a deep breath, Squidward got back behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Heheh,” chuckled Spongebob as the boat roared to life. “Vroom-vroom.”

Squidward rolled his eyes and began turning the boat around, back towards Bikini Bottom. “We’re going home now,” he said, with a sigh. “You need to see a doctor for … whatever it was that happened to you.”

Spongebob simply nodded, then fell to his side, leaning all of his body weight on Squidward as he drove. The octopus felt warmth rising to his cheeks, and for once felt grateful for the murky blackness of the ocean void.

Spongebob was mumbling something.

“What is it?” said Squidward. “Are you okay?”

“I …uh … love you, Squidward,” said Spongebob, in a very loopy voice. “I love your big nose, and your paintings, and I wanna … get married, someday. Okay? Can we get married, someday?”

Squidward’s entire face was bright red now. It took everything in him not to just veer in a random direction and crash the entire damn boat. Taking a deep breath, the octopus collected himself. Spongebob was just severely injured, and loopy as a result. He didn’t really mean any of this.

Squidward decided to play along. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we can get married.”

“Mm,” said Spongebob, chuckling softly. “Can I -- can I wear a dress?”

“Sure,” said Squidward. “Whatever you want.”

“And you’ll … and you’ll kiss me?”

“Mhm,” mumbled Squidward.

“And I can … listen to you play the clarinet around the house … and, and paint with you … and watch your soaps with … you … ”

Squidward looked over. The sponge had fallen asleep, and was snoring loudly. Which was … good. Very good. Excellent, even. That way, they couldn’t talk about marriage or love or any of that absolute nonsense. Now they could just drive forward in sweet silence.

Still, Squidward found himself dwelling over Spongebob’s words far more than he would have liked.

About an hour into the drive home, the octopus glanced over at the sponge, still fast asleep beside him. Fixing his gaze forward, Squidward took a deep breath, clutching the steering wheel in a tight death-grip.

“Spongebob, I …,” Squidward began, shakily. “I love you. I love you, I love you.”

Squidward found that once he started saying it, he couldn’t stop. The words felt good in his mouth, like a massive weight had finally been lifted off his chest.

“I love everything about you,” said Squidward, his three hearts exploding inside his chest. “Your annoying laugh, your stupid singing, all of it. I want to read with you, and garden with you.”

Squidward hesitated, his words floating out into the open water.

“I love you,” said Squidward, one last time. “And I … I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe I’m a coward. I’m sorry.”

Squidward looked over. Spongebob was still fast asleep, snoring away against his arm -- but the smallest of smiles had appeared on his face.

-0-

Squidward woke up in the hospital, seated in a chair next to Spongebob’s hospital bed. The poriferan was wide awake, watching an episode of Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy on the hospital television. Of course.

The sponge turned. “Squidward!” he exclaimed, his voice loud and back to normal. “You’re awake!”

“Unfortunately,” muttered the octopus. “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” chirped Spongebob. “Better than ever, actually -- but the doc says I should stick around for a little while, just in case.”

Squidward glanced down. Sure enough, Spongebob’s chest had almost fully regenerated. Thank Neptune. When they arrived at the Bikini Bottom General Hospital early that morning, Spongebob was still in rough shape. The doctor said Spongebob most likely had a run-in with a deep-sea predator, and the attack was too quick and too constant for the poriferan to regenerate. Not to mention there were several lacerations to his vital organs.

Still, sponges were pretty sturdy folk -- and all Spongebob really needed was a long rest in a controlled environment.

Squidward breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Great,” he said, awkwardly. “I, uh. Pay attention next time you get on the bus, alright? So I don’t have to come running after you.”

Spongebob laughed. “Okey-doke.”

The two then sat together in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. All the while, Squidward wondered if perhaps his stupid, impulsive, not-really-a-love-confession-confession had actually gotten through to Spongebob. His hearts twisted up at just the thought.

“Hey, Squidward?”

The octopus looked up, and was very surprised to find splotches of red decorating the sponge’s cheeks.

“What?” said Squidward.

“My, uh, sea flowers have been dying lately,” said the sponge, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Maybe you could come by and we could share some gardening tips?”

A brilliant red blush planted itself on Squidward’s face. Then, he cleared his throat, and folded his arms across his chest. “Only if we get to watch a soap afterwards.”

Spongebob grinned. “Deal.”

Squidward found himself grinning, too, despite himself. “Deal.”

References:

“Deviltown” is loosely based off of the Devil Sea, near the Japanese coast.

I will likely be compiling these ficlets into one combined fic on ao3. I originally wasn't going to, but I definitely didn't expect so many requests. So keep an eye out for that, at some point.

[incarnateirony]

15.15: The Absent Mother

I’ve had to take a great deal of time to pull my thoughts together on this episode because it was so MUCH. I’ve said in the past that I wasn’t a fan of Davy; he often layered his things very thinly. But today was a masterfully interwoven piece to the point I literally watched another show for an hour while thinking about it, went and took a shower for half an hour to scrub my head clean, and came back to this and STILL sat to write about it.

So if you’re new to my meta, I’m going to break the ice. You need to read my The Generational Family post to dip your toes in. It speaks in plain english things that will be less-plain english in this post.

If you’re less-new to my meta, but often floating in the occult references, I’m going to try to drop links to posts or tag folders of references.

But what a fantastic salute to the Empress this entire episode is.

Now let’s dive in.

It’s no secret my blog bangs on about arcana on the regular. I have spoken of the four colors (represented in the above gif but also frequenting the #hues of involution tag). 

Frankly, I consider it invariable that the brother focused episode will summon forth The Emperor as a key focus. Somewhere in that chaos binder of tags I even predicted that much when I saw the color themes of the episode, but that’s a whole other aside--just something to put a pin in the idea of while I speak of the Empress, and the Generational Family.

(15.16 update: hahahahah)

I’ve gone feral

BACK TO ORIGINAL 15.15 POST

Some time back I had made a post about Castiel’s tie to this path; be that his frequent association with Mary over time (be it storyline parallels in general arc, John and Mary’s meeting, mixtapes or whatever else); that he and Rowena served as mirror and foil from her earliest conception, back when his parental storylines hovered more in regret over Claire; that Amara and her forced bond were associations of the profound bond and many lines directly mirrored while other motions challenged each other (Eg, heart tie, profound bond>mark bond);

I even made a joke at one point that Castiel should wear a pink trenchcoat to match Rowena’s dress.

This, of course, I joked equally was absurd, and that we would probably have to settle for the violet-pink light of Death on both him and Dean in 15.13′s alchemical Marriage of the Minds.

This Marriage of the Minds you’ll find plenty of topic on for my blog, and all in association with the Art arcana, from which the Occultum is drawn to begin with in its concept. This may seem like a long drift aside from the episode itself, but is more a preface of discussion based reminders.

Either way, @meta-mania-spn​ outright trolled in to my trenchcoat joke with this when it was released, saying “here’s your pink trenchcoat.”

And how on point you were!

But I’m going to have to ask fandom to do me a favor before we continue any further in this discussion.

I’m going to need you to stop trying to shove everything in singular boxes applicable to one and only-one storyline. Go back to the Generational Family post. Make sure that’s anchored like, in your subconscious at this point. Know it, feel it. 

Okay, now we can continue.

Hah hah “You’re standing in The Trap zone.” Okay.

So obviously, we have two major story ends going on right now: On the one hand, Sam and Dean go have a discussion to Amara where they plan to lie to her to pull off a stunt against Chuck; on the other hand, we have Castiel and Jack working a case. This seems simple enough in our structure.

Amara’s face of this ends up being entirely reflection. Of her cosmogenic origins (”We are the same.”), We Are Twins (I point to Thoth’s use of the twins in generational storytelling), etc. Of her history with Dean. Of her reasons of bringing Mary back.

Fandom may not like her reasons for bringing Mary back. They may even hate them. And we’ll get back to this later, but this is the sum of this.

On the other hand, Cas and Jack think a demon is involved. They even summon one. Turns out Rowena, in taking over hell, has adopted a new system. No more tricking and damning souls. People end up where they belong. The demon is bored (which has a funny shout out at the end on him trying to find a new purpose--as a cop, which is about six levels of commentary but I digress), but the continued path of Rowena renovating hell from welcome meetings for damned souls to lack of intentionally dragging others down is made clear, while evoked.

I point back to Rowena’s own history: at one point she aspired for power, but after Funeralia, she was stricken with guilt and grief over feeling like she abandoned her son. This is a thread that I have tried to put in videos over time as a still-binding tie; Castiel staring into Belphegor’s husked out eyes at one point, even if it wasn’t really his fault, just as we lost Rowena who went to essentially reclaim her son’s legacy and throne since she couldn’t atone for his loss.

But then we get to the case. It’s a whole long adventure, much of which has some bog-standard casework; we do have Castiel coming to speak that he found new meaning in becoming a parent (rolling back to the parental thread), and there’s a bunch of great imagery we’ll cover below. But before we get to that, let’s focus on the resolution.

It reveals a broken family structure: Mother was sick and felt shoved away, Father Changed Things, and the child ended up on a destructive path about following god.

Now when I talk about not boxing things in on one level, I’m going to break down this family a bit.  We’ll also just totes ignore the Joseph-the-Carpenter tattoo on the pastor that clearly has NOTHING to do with Joseph behind Dean only an episode ago and the entire Emperor theme with the sun behind his head. After the whole Mary behind Cas thing. Nope, nothing to see here. Has NOTHING to do with the generational stuff I’m about to talk below. That’d be silly right?

You also have to think of it this way. If Pastor Joe (yes that’s his FKING name) a parallel, so is his dead wife. There are levels where it was felt she was mocked, and pushed away, which tied into Amara this episode. You have your Chuck and Amara level parallel. However, on the emotional level, the mother figure that Castiel actually ends up representing is also coming due to be absent. And this is about the father's atonement with that just as much as it is with Dean having his dialogue with Amara.

On many levels. Dean and Amara’s dialogue trades of old grudges, old motivations, but also current events and learning to live in the now. 

The child, however, was still stuck in the past--a past the mother who told her to believe in God seemed to want, but the same kind of duty Castiel became aware of needing to change in the past. But she got stuck in it.

While she judged people by their sins, Jack and Castiel end up finding the poor unfortunate man judged by Lust, after an entire aside Castiel had with the pastor about one of the victims struggling as a gay man and what-not; For Reasons(TM). But this is an arcana post, not a “point out the obvious fucking screaming queer text and subtext being put in blinker lights this episode” post, so I’m going to generally show that the misguided and wrathful child thought she was carrying out God’s will.

And then I direct you to my Lust tag.

I have far longer stuff on it, but if you skim, you’ll find the loudest message is about not letting a wrathful god judge or punish you for sins. It involves the Whore of Babylon as a symbol of power riding a beast that represented (Aleister) Crowley; or in this case, Rowena riding Crowley to power, but also birthing and rearranging a new world. I point back to the demon in question, and then I gesture to the stuff about Castiel’s impending storyline overlap.

Did other sins get punished, sure; the one girl got greed, for example. If you check my posts on the Lust topic, there are other forms of debauch actually associated with lust beyond just carnal lovers, but the message about ignoring god’s wrath and making the new world remains in-tact.

This is the kind of wrath enacted by the girl. Who is furious about how the aeon changed. Because you changed everything, dad. They don’t worship God, they worship You.

So here’s the fun question: Is this a child of man furious that man is no longer the true god because Chuck in the corrupted Emperor path has changed the world to his whims, just flipped? That is to say, that they no longer see the Shadow as The One True God? Or is this someone throwing a tantrum on Chuck’s behest that the world of man is being reclaimed? Or is it a generalized moral of all of these things contingent on the choices The Ones -- Sam and Dean -- make moving forward? And what of Jack inevitably feeling like he has to do Dean’s commands, with the task laid out to destroy God as mapped by Death, in the inevitable absence of Castiel?

Now this has drifted a wide-berth from speaking of the Empress herself, which I’ll roll back to. I had mentioned, for example, the pink. So let’s talk about why that is.

The Empress is the Matron. While she goes through many forms, this is sort of the central or individualized one. She represents a fertility in preparing to birth the new world. She holds a blossom, she takes a pose I’m not gonna bother breaking down in this post, and she is crowned in a sphere that is passed to her from the Emperor which she will wear until the next aeon from their union is born.

She is represented by the moon, and though her child will eventually become the new sun it must first be the earth, her emperor is her current sun; the son is the reflection of the father in the eyes of the mother; the Empress Moon lets the Emperor Sun shine on her face and brings life to the earth in their union, and again, I point back to the Marriage of the Minds post.

Now, see that bird in the corner? That’s a pelican. It’s frequently associated in old alchemy as the mother giving her life, as part of the birthing process is also death, for her next generation. I have spoken in the past that Byzantium itself is an ideal example of that. The pelican has intensive alchemical implications, but it was believed she “fed her child from her own heart.”

Okay cool so there’s just a bleeding heart right there while Jack struggles with feeling like he has to deal with this alone, while Castiel tries to insist he doesn’t, with the renegade child taking it upon herself to carry out god’s work and essentially going mad/bad. Castiel not wanting to let that all fall on Jack.

There’s also giant posters about THE WORLD and a mirror shadow Safe Place poster which I’m not even going to talk on much beyond gesturing vaguely at my Shadow tag and Universe tag and move on, but I will take particular note of the hands reaching out to Cas and the world as a vague gesture to once again stick a pin in.

I mean there’s a few other themes I’m going to point out for general notes: hearts everywhere,

Some stuff on Day and Night and hands all over/handholding, which I’ll point to my talk on Absence for false dichotomies

And an admittedly offtopical “lmao fuck this news screen”

But with that, I move forward:

The child here was dressed almost EERILY like Mrs Butters, for the record. And uh-- /wore her cross upside down/

They both kind of represent the same thing of misguided ideals, though Mrs Butters proved able to be reasoned with at the end and went to go return to nature where she belonged, just as man should return to his place some day free of god’s machinations; but she didn’t break her cycle and her fate is to be decided after this by court and what-not, which.. you know, fine.

But that’s a note worth passing re: Mrs Butters, but again, it needs to fall to generational; child vs parent, with Mrs Butters being the lightly lamia-associated elder who lost her sons and went mad trying to protect them according to how she had been commanded, just like this story, too, comes to misguided commands in absence.

Add in of course that Butters pointed out Jack was “too much like his father”. This, of course, was a shot at Lucifer in a way, but the serpent she evoked isn’t truly symbolic of Lucifer in our show, it’s about humanity. And uh, who is synonymous synced to in SPN? Even ignoring the relevance of the serpent to the Emperor? 

Throughout this episode, Jack waltzes around imprinted on habits from Dean, taking on the weight of the world, sacrifice, doing it alone, and inevitably, small bursts of anger.

While... Amara tracks and polka dances sideways across the Mary issue of idealizations vs realities, of the Now being more important than the Then. Fandom gets stuck on how unfair it was to Dean and considers it torture which, human perspective, fair. But Amara isn’t thinking on your human level. In fact she very loudly flags around how Dean (and frankly, the audience) doesn’t properly perceive the scope of what she even is. 

Castiel, driving home, continues to try to be an improved parent. He talks with Jack, and tries to tell him he doesn’t have to do this alone. But Jack is stuck in that rut, and it’s a rut Castiel knows too well. He’s walked these paths and the audience has walked these paths and he can’t let the child handle this alone, though Jack declares it isn’t his choice. Jack has surrendered to what he believes Death commands of him, what the job is.

It’s going to be about choice.

But right now, Jack is too much like his father. And I point back to the Moon, who lets the Sun shine on her face, perceiving the world as a reflection of the Father, of Soul in the eyes of the Mind. This is the path to teach their son to avoid just as much.

Meanwhile, Castiel is punched in the FACE basically by Jack saying not to tell Sam and Dean he’s turning into Soul Bomb Take 2. He doesn’t want to worry them over something he can’t do anything about. Congratulations, Castiel is now living the mirror of Jack knowing the Empty deal and Sam and Dean not being told, and you can SEE the reality of it ALL slam him in the face. Not just because Jack blowing up would negate the point of his sacrifice; I don’t know if that even really plinks his mental armor; but the actual magnitude of that kind of secret.

Burying my clown brain’s fierce desire to talk at length of small details like Cas opting not to wake Dean up in the room, we see a recursion-yet-subversion at the end. 

We cut off, here, abruptly. In context of the episode, we know Castiel has at least learned one lesson and is going to try to tell Dean about his deal. But on some level, this all enmeshes thoroughly to Castiel’s Empty deal. Do I think Cas is going to tell the Empty deal in 16? No, I’m gonna guess on some level Sam gets his hands on it around 17 maybe, or nobody at all finds out--or at least Dean himself doesn’t find out--until 18.

In that time they *still* will not have stopped Chuck, that won’t be until 19. So I really wish this arm flailing about “oh god they’re making it all about Cas saving Jack and then dropping it!” would stop because man guys, I’m tired, I’ve been writing you the roadmap on this for two years and haven’t failed yet, pls listen.

Even after episode 18, Castiel’s role is inevitably going to be to take the burden from Jack. ...And Dean will too, but you won’t really even start to wrap your heads around the how and the why until at *least* 16 covers the Emperor path better in scale of the generational family. That’s going to be a joint thing.

Yes, I’m saying that’s going to be a joint thing after the Empty.

The show has taken a highlighter repeatedly to the fact that Jack was neither ready to rule or remove Chuck and that it was all a bad idea. Like “Then who?!” yes HMMM WHO. 

Who is sitting here following the path of all of these individuals in this very episode? Do I need to gesture people to literal years of Castiel being associated with every one of these women’s central stories in my meta, make everyone read literal compendiums of it to get the where and why, or is it at least enough in the collective subconscious to be recognized?

What is Rowena doing? What is Rowena doing, right now? She unbirthed an entire realm and is restructuring it; where people go only where they deserve to go, where they aren’t as boxed in but certainly aren’t out there being shitheads for the sake of being shitheads. But man, if only there was SOME ONE ELSE lined up on this whole lunar path, somewhere, with these women.

(For more on the blossom, see my Albedo tag)

For the full context and, frankly, mental breakdowns about 15.13 and what all that amounted to, I point you to the tags I linked above in discussion and lead-in to this post, because I’m not going to re-tread that ground right now.

But Castiel’s deal has always been about saving Jack. Castiel has been the Empress all year and before it. He will continue to be the empress, symbolized as feeding her young from her own heart, and--well, like that above gif (and also like 15.09, but with Sam in that generational rotation), receiving the sphere from the Emperor (Dean) and passing it to the new aeon to be reborn. Jack is the new Aeon. the mother will protect this at any cost.

But I don’t know why fandom pole vaults into assuming then that the Emperor suddenly has no place in this fascinatingly interwoven play. They are part of this cooperative birthing process together. Even in and beyond Death. As it is, there’s parts of Jack’s resignation that will inevitably tie to Castiel with Dean in 18.

As always, the case is a warning tale, but just what side of it you take really depends on where the characters choose to step. Is it a warning of man stepping away from god or god changing the rules on man? 

Even Amara’s message is multifaceted: Knowing when to walk away on your own path is not the same as betraying someone. And it’s only going to be by Dean’s manipulation that she would consider it, while he is in fact lying to her; but that’s NOT going to come without a long term price. And frankly, is itself a message for the endgame of this show, with some people thinking taking ones’ own path is tantamount to betrayal. It is not. But what matters it the truth. And the choice. And remembering that we all have a choice.

And what of Cas, after the Empty then?

My soul went to heaven, big surprise.

In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.

To know what he, himself, is also worth, Castiel will have to make that place within himself. And that will also be the place for his child, and his family, and humankind as he has come to adopt as his people.

...But there was a two step phase to that spell and I remind you Rowena wasn’t alone in that image.

The pink of fertile rebirth.

For more on the Empress, click here. 

Anyway

#CASTIELSUTERUS2020

[daveeddiggsit]

Broken, but Not Shattered

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt vii)

Note: This took me so long to write. Partly bc I kept getting distracted from other projects, but partly bc it’s a hella long chapter. ANYWAYS, i really hope you enjoy. To me, it feels like a movie, but let me know your thoughts! Enjoy :)

Word Count: 10.1k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warnings: injury. T has a panic attack at some point. poor T, he just needs a hug :( implied sex. angst. cursing. smooches. mental health struggle in wake of an incident. anxiety.

Summary: During your Senior year of high school, an unfortunate event happens during Thomas’ last football game of the regular season. Thomas gets pushed to his limits mentally and physically. How does your relationship fare in the wake of his injury?

Tagging: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a​ @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can​

ELEVEN MONTHS LATER...

Your high school holds an annual tailgate before the final home football game of each season. This is the first time you are motivated (and excited) to attend the tailgate. The past three years, you’d decided to skip out, but due to this year being your Senior year (Thomas also may or may not have something to do with it), you partake in this year’s festivities along with the rest of the student body.

After the bell rings, dismissing everybody from their last class of the day, a sea of students migrates down to the football stadium. There, you and Maria discover food vendors of all sorts along with party games that are scattered around the perimeter of the stadium and in the parking lot. It almost feels like a carnival in a way, except there are no rides and you’re surrounded by a bunch of kids with a copious amount of school pride. 

You and your best friend have fun and roam around for some time, getting a bite to eat at a vendor here and there. Everyone around you is having a blast, whether they’re walking around in their friend groups or playing games.

Eventually, you and Maria go to get some ice cream, but on the way you run into Ellie, a cheerleader who also happens to be a Senior. You’ve gotten to know her well due to your now frequent presence at Panther Football games and because she’s in your English class. You also hear a lot about her from Maria, who probably spends more time photographing the cheerleader than the actual football games now since they’ve met. You notice that she speaks of Ellie while gushing about her beauty and intelligence extremely often; it’s safe to say that Maria has an immense crush on her.

“Oh, hey, guys! Nice to see you.” Ellie says with a smile, causing you and your best friend to stop walking.

Although the cheerleader has greeted you both, her gaze barely wavers from Maria, and suddenly you feel like you are intruding. That’s when you decide that it’s time to become Maria’s wingwoman.

“Hey!” You grin widely, looking between her and Maria. “Ellie! Maria was actually just talking about you.” Your best friend’s eyes widen at your lack of subtlety. 

“Really?” Ellie asks, her eyes brightening up as she turns her full attention to Maria who blushes slightly. 

She coughs lightly to try and cover it up before her eyes quickly flit over to you in a panic. You raise your eyebrows and use your hand to gesture her to go on.

“Oh, um…” Maria starts, pulling your gaze away from you and towards Ellie. “Yeah, El, I uh was…” She glances up at you again over Ellie’s shoulder and you point to the ice cream truck next to you and mouth, ‘get ice cream.’ “...wondering if you wanted to come and get some ice cream with me? Us. At the truck.”

You have never ever, in your seven years of best friendship, seen Maria act this nervous around a girl… let alone need your help to talk to someone she likes. There’s something about this Ellie girl that has turned Maria completely shy and you can’t help but gush at how cute the both of them are.

“Oh, yeah! I’d really like that.” Ellie says happily, causing Maria to grin. They both turn around to walk towards the ice-cream truck and Maria stops for a second, noticing that you’re not with them anymore.

“Y/N, are you coming?” She asks, slightly more comfortable now that Ellie’s accepted her offer. 

“No, you guys go. I just uh…” You try to think of an excuse when suddenly your phone vibrates, luckily giving you one. You glance down at it, seeing a text pop up from your boyfriend. “I just got a text from Thomas, so I should probably go meet him. You guys have fun, though!”

Ellie nods, saying, “We will! See you around, Y/N,” before gently grabbing Maria’s arm to lead her away. 

Beaming, Maria turns her head towards you and mouths, “thanks, love you.” You send her a wink and blow her a kiss, watching her walk away with her soon-to-be beau. This is the happiest you’ve seen her in a long time and you’re beyond excited to see her finally want to start dating someone again after her last breakup with her lying ex-boyfriend, Alexander.

Satisfied with your work, you turn to walk through the crowds of students and towards the underneath of the bleachers: the breathtakingly romantic spot Thomas has chosen for you to meet.

When you arrive, you don’t spot him for a second before you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist from behind. A familiar voice sounds next to your ear, causing you to shiver unintentionally. “You’re looking mighty cute today, princess. You come here often?”

You relax against the warm body behind you once you realize who the voice belongs to. A small smile spreads across your cheeks as you respond. “Under the bleachers? Nah. I’m only here because I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” You can hear the smile in his voice as his arms wrap more snuggly around you. “Well, he must be a very lucky guy.”

You lean your head back against Thomas’ shoulder. “Yep. Extremely lucky, considering the fact that we’re both standing in the space where people do God knows what during games.”

He just laughs and nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath fanning out against you. He presses a few kisses there before his lips trail up to your cheek to press a chaste peck there as well. “I was wonderin’ how long it was gonna take for you to show up.” Thomas murmurs against your skin and your eyes flutter shut at the contact.

You muster up the strength to turn your body in his arms so that you can face him. Thomas is breathtakingly handsome as always, sporting his charcoal football jersey over a dark hoodie and a pair of black ripped jeans. He’s beaming and smiling down at you like you’re his whole world. 

“It wasn’t that long.” You roll your eyes with a lazy grin tugging at your lips. “I was hanging with Maria until we ran into Ellie, so I left them alone to come meet you.”

“Yeah? They together yet? They keep dancin’ around each other; one of them needs to make a move.”

You laugh at Thomas’ words. “Hey, you make it sound like it’s easy.”

“They’re so obviously into each other! They need to just confess their feelings and get together. Can’t be that difficult.” Thomas shrugs, looking down at you.

You just give him a pointed look. “You’re one to talk, Jefferson. Do you remember how nervous you were before our first kiss? Your hands were literally shaking…”

Thomas withdraws his touch from your waist and crosses his arms over his chest. He licks his lips and looks away for a second before he speaks. “Alright, alright, come on, now.” His deadpanned gaze shifts back to you, but the glint in his eyes is playful. “You still gonna hold that over me? It’s almost been a year.”

You splay your arms out innocently as your mouth falls open with a smile. “It was cute!”

“I was vulnerable, Y/N!” He responds dramatically with wide eyes. “I didn’t know what you were feeling. What if you’d rejected me?”

“Well, I didn’t.” You take a step closer to him, reaching your hands up to wrap around his forearms to pull his arms back down around you, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, you’re just standing there with your hands on his forearms as you two stare at each other. “T, I obviously didn’t reject you.”

“I know that now.” Thomas finally unfolds his arms and brushes his hands up your arms and down your body before they come to a stop at your waist again. He hugs you close to him before he speaks again. “But I wasn’t sure if you were even into me like that back then.”

You grin, looking up at him and settling your hands on his chest. “Exactly, so don’t blame El and M for not rushing things. Let them figure it out on their own.”

“Alright, point made, sweetheart, point made.” He laughs, rolling his eyes before staring down at you with a gaze that you can’t quite describe. It makes your breath catch in your throat and your heart swell. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s soft but firm at the same time and it has a certain fondness to it that you can’t decipher — it’s like he’s sure of something, but doesn’t want to voice it. 

The comfortable silence between you stretches on as he continues to stare unabashedly. 

You grab a hold of the black polyester material of his jersey to pull him closer. “What?” You ask, breathing out a nervous laugh.

Thomas snaps out of his gaze by releasing a chuckle before he leans down, causing his face to near yours. His smile reaches his eyes and causes your heart to soar. “Nothin’... just—” His eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second. “You’re a good friend, baby.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, grinning as your noses brush against each other.

“Mhm.” He hums before he leans in to sweetly press his mouth to yours.

The kiss warms you up as his hands leave your waist to hold your face gently. Your fingers clutch his jersey tightly, pulling him against you as his lips slowly capture yours again and again, leaving you breathless.

Kissing Thomas never gets old; it’s always like a breath of fresh air. You revel in the sense of presence he creates every time you’re close to him. It’s relaxing, giving you a feeling of home and familiarity that only he can provide.

You two just stay there for a bit, hugging each other closely as the sounds of music and chatter from students can be heard in the distance. You’re content in his warm embrace, and he’s the only thing keeping you warm in the chilly Autumn weather.

Some time later, Thomas leads you out from under the bleachers to walk to the topside of them. You two sit at the front row towards the bottom of the vacant seats. Leaning your head against Thomas’ shoulder, you look out to the empty football field.

“So, a scout for W&M Football is gonna be at the game today.” Thomas voices softly, causing you to pull back enough to look him in the eye. “Coach said he’s been talking to him about me, so he flew out to watch me play in person.”

“Really? Holy shit, Thomas, that’s amazing.” You say, grinning and reaching a hand up to tenderly hold his cheek. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

He smiles and looks down bashfully before he gazes back at you. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart. Haven’t impressed the guy enough to get a scholarship yet.”

“Exactly. ‘Yet.’ You will, you know that.” You say, moving your hand back down to lightly nudge his arm. “You’re the most ‘confident’ guy I know.” You put air quotes around confident because that’s what Thomas dubs himself instead of letting himself get called cocky.

He laughs, shaking his head before he looks back out, squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight. The golden rays bring out the brown in his curls and eyes, making them a more honey shade. “That I am, I suppose.”

“You nervous?” You ask, watching him closely. As much as Thomas pegs himself the confident (and sometimes arrogant by others) one on the outside, you know that he’s still human and experiences times of unsureness.

“For the game or the scout?”

“Both.” You answer, shrugging, watching a golf cart fly by on the track in front of you.

Thomas glances back at you and momentarily admires the way the sunlight illuminates your face. A smile spreads across his lips before he responds. “To be honest? Not really.” He says, causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “For the game? Not nervous at all. We beat Easton by 30 points last time we played them. And as far as the W&M scout goes, I am a bit nervous, but I know I should be fine as long as I play like I normally do.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Wow… and here I was thinking that Thomas Jefferson was turning a little modest on me.”

He just laughs, his gaze playful as he looks at you. “Never, darlin’. Can’t be unsure of myself when I got my girl on the sideline as my good luck charm.”

You grin and shake your head at him. “Well, for what it’s worth and not that you need any more words of encouragement — because you seem to have it all figured out,” You give him a pointed look that’s more teasing than anything serious. “I think you’re gonna be great today, T.” You say sweetly, perching your chin on his shoulder. 

Thomas’ grin brightens and he moves to place his lips gently on your forehead before he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. He rests his head on top of yours as you both turn to watch the white lines on the turf get freshly painted over in preparation for the game later.

“Your words will always mean more to me than you think, sweetheart.” He says softly. 

⋆﹥ ━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Maria shows up later than usual to the sideline to start setting up her gear. You can’t help but be slightly suspicious about her previous whereabouts and you wonder if it has to do with a certain cheerleader.

“Sooo…” You start off, the corner of your mouth twisting up into a knowing grin. “Where were you? Why’re you late?”

Maria just smiles bashfully as she starts to unpack her camera bag. “I’m getting some real Deja Vu from last year when you and Thomas got together, except now I’m in your shoes.”

You laugh, watching her as she blushes slightly and pauses her actions. “So, I’m guessing that you were with Ellie?” Maria nods, causing you to grin wider. “Are you guys official yet?”

You wait in anticipation as you stare at Maria who purses her lips before she looks away for a second. “I don’t know.” She mumbles.

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know.” Maria repeats, looking back at you, shrugging her shoulders. 

“What do you mean you don’t know, Maria?”

“I mean, she kissed me… and then we got interrupted by something, and then we didn’t really talk about labeling ourselves or anything, but she said to meet her after the game, so… I don’t know.”

You think for a second. “Well, if she wants you to meet her after the game, that means she wants to talk to you, right? So, just ask her then.”

“Ask her what?”

“Are you serious?” You give her a pointed look, a small grin pulling at your lips. “Ask her to be your girlfriend, dummy. That’s what you want, right?”

Maria busies herself by cleaning the lens of her camera with a rag. “I just… don’t wanna mess this up, Y/N. That’s why I get so nervous around her. All my past relationships have been shitty and… I don’t want her to turn into another one. You get what I mean?”

You nod in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but hey,” you put a hand on her arm, causing her to look at you. “She’s different, though. You’ve said it before, and I can see it. I have a good feeling about this one… and I’m sure you do, too. I say go for it, M. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. You deserve to be happy.”

You pause for a second before you ramble on. “Not that being in a relationship solely constitutes happiness, but… you know what I mean.”

Maria just smiles and looks down for a second before she puts her camera down and hugs you tightly. “Thanks, Y/N. Really, it means a lot.” She mumbles against your shoulder and you squeeze her back just as tightly.

“Any time, M. It’s what I’m here for.” You say softly, rubbing her back. “You give me advice all the time, now it’s my turn. It’s a two-way street. We gotta support each other.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Maria sighs when she pulls back from the hug. “Okay, I’m gonna ask her. After the game. If you’re cool with waiting around a little bit, I know I’m your ride home, so—”

You dismiss her worries with a wave of your hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get T to drive me. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Yeah, but tonight was supposed to be Girls’ Night…”

“Don’t worry about it, Maria.” You stress with a smile. “We’ll reschedule. Promise. When the game ends, you go get your girl. Win or lose… no matter what, okay?”

Maria nods and takes in a deep breath.

“Okay. Promise.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas was right earlier. Easton High School’s football team is not a great team. The game is a complete blowout with your home team beating their opponent 38-7 at halftime. You can tell that the other team is salty from some things you can hear them yelling on the opposite side of the field, but they really have no grounds to talk because of the fact that they’re getting beat so badly by Thomas’ team.

You were also right earlier. Thomas has been having a phenomenal game. It’s one of the best games you’ve seen him play thus far — he has three touchdowns and it’s only the beginning of the third quarter. 

Although Easton has the ball currently as they try to score, Thomas, Aaron, James, and the rest of his teammates standing on the sideline don’t seem fazed or worried at all. They’re all goofing around by laughing and making jokes with each other. At some point, Thomas even goes over to his position coach to ask for some Skittles and he gives him a handful.

You don’t even raise an eyebrow when you spot him with a handful of candy during games anymore. You’ve noticed him, James, and Aaron with them throughout the season and you have no desire to ask anymore.

It isn’t long before the Panthers’ defense stops Easton’s drive with an interception, allowing the ball to go back to the Panthers offense’s possession. You watch as Thomas scrambles to get on the field with his teammates after finishing the last of his candy. He’s lucky that his coach doesn’t see him chewing when he puts his helmet back on.

There’s still plenty of game left, and it looks like Coach Washington isn’t planning on backing down his offense just yet when he yells at them to score. He doesn’t plan on showing any mercy to the visiting team.

Thomas is on the side of the field closest to you, but he doesn’t notice because his focus is locked into the game now. You can hear him jawing off with his defender as they both line up at the line of scrimmage. If Thomas Jefferson is known for one thing on the field, it’s trash talking — especially if someone on the opposing team initiates it.

Jefferson keeps his composure as he riles his opponent up, enough for you to notice that the other guy is heated.

The ball is snapped, starting play and Thomas sprints ahead of his defender. The quarterback throws the ball in his direction and Thomas jumps up to catch it when suddenly he is tackled by his opponent before his fingers can even graze the football. It’s a dirty play to say the least, and this causes the home side of the stadium to erupt in massive boos. 

You yell in disgust at the hit along with Maria who stands besides you, but luckily Thomas is up on his feet in no time and yelling in the face of his defender. James runs up to separate him so that he doesn’t get a personal foul.

The refs throw their flags and call a ‘pass interference’ penalty, which satisfies the home team and their fans. It’s not long before both teams go to the new line of scrimmage, which is much closer to the end zone now.

Play starts again and Thomas swiftly runs towards the end zone while faking out his defender once again. He’s able to catch the ball this time and sprints far ahead of the opponents of the other team. He slows down right before he gets to the end zone and tauntingly waves at the defender who tackled him in the previous play.

Next, everything feels like it’s slow motion. 

Right before Thomas crosses the goal line, two of the defenders from the other team dive to tackle him from behind and you can hear the impact of their bodies hitting him from your position on the sideline. One of the tacklers comes up short and lands on Thomas’ left ankle, causing it to buckle while Thomas falls down along with it in the end zone. 

The entire stadium erupt into cheers at the touchdown, unaware of the damage done to the star wide receiver. The defenders stand up and are pushed back by their teammates. Seconds pass by and gradually, the cheers start to die down as Thomas still lies face-down on the turf, his left hand weakly reaching towards his left ankle. 

He’s not getting up.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly in your chest as panic starts to rise. Oh… oh no.

“Come on, baby. Come on. Get up.” You whisper under your breath. “You’re okay, Tommy. Please get up.”

Slowly, Thomas is able to get himself on his hands and knees, but it’s not without him yelping in pain. Your heart breaks for him.

James sprints and is crouched on the ground by Thomas’ side in no time. He puts a comforting hand on his back and you can see him talking to him, asking him if he’s okay. After a few seconds, James turns towards the sideline and signals for a trainer to go to them. Thomas slowly turns over so that he lies on his back with help from James and you can see his body writhe in pain as he reaches for his lower left leg again.

There’s an eerie quiet that blankets the stadium now. You don’t like it. You hate how a place filled with sounds of happiness and joy could morph into a space almost completely stripped of sound period — filled with emptiness and despair instead at the drop of a dime.

Now all the players on the field take a knee for Thomas as he’s slowly helped up by his teammates and the team trainers. They lead him to a golf cart where he sits, clutching at his left ankle. His helmet is still on, and you can’t see his face through his visor, but you know that he’s hurting beneath the mask as he hangs his head.

One of the defenders who tackled him has his helmet off now as he goes to apologize to Thomas. The guilt and regret is evident in his face that he caused something so detrimental to happen to a fellow athlete — because that’s all they are at the end of the day: athletes. They all play the same sport; ultimately, it doesn’t matter which team they play for. They’re all just doing what they love: playing football. And nobody deserves to have that be stripped away from them at the blink of an eye.

The forever silence is now broken as claps can be heard from everyone, showing sportsmanship and solidarity for Thomas and his injury as he’s driven off the field and towards the main building where the locker rooms are.

“Y/N…” Maria says softly next to you, and you finally notice that your hand has been placed over your mouth in shock for the past five minutes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I…” You start out, but your voice is wobbly. A single tear runs down your cheek and you wipe it away and sniffle as you try to stay strong. “What do I do?”

You have to stay strong for Thomas, but you feel helpless. You don’t know where to go, who to talk to. Are you allowed to go and see him in the locker room or do you wait until the game ends? Do you call his parents or will his coach take care of that? How bad is the injury? Is Thomas going to be okay?

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when the rest of the Panthers offense comes off the field. James stops when he reaches you.

“He needs you, Y/N.” He says, taking off his helmet. James looks just as worried as you feel. “It’s not looking good… and he’s gonna need someone to lean on. I know him, and with his parents gone in LA and the team still playing out the rest of the game… he shouldn’t be alone right now. He may act big and tough on the field in front of everyone, but you know how T is. He needs support.”

You nod slowly and sniffle before taking a deep breath. You look towards Maria and she nods at you, saying, “Go to him, Y/N.”

“Okay.” You whisper, looking between the two of them. “Okay.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Your mind races as you wait outside the trainer’s room where Thomas is getting treated by the team doctor. On your way inside, you went to the locker room to retrieve Thomas’ backpack per the request of one of the trainers standing in the hallway outside the medical room.

Despite it feeling like hours, it isn’t long before the team physician comes out of the room, causing you to perk up as you lean against the wall. The doctor whispers to the trainer and you pick up snippets of their conversation from your position next to the door.

“...has to go to the hospital for an x-ray… lots of swelling… unclear whether it’s fractured or a ruptured achilles.”

After they finish speaking, you ask if you can go in. They nod, and the doctor tells you that Thomas is being unresponsive to any questions that are being asked of him. The doctor asks you to break the news of a hospital visit being necessary tonight, and just like that you feel like you have a huge weight on your shoulders. But you don’t care because right now, you just want to see Thomas and make sure that he’s okay, so you just nod before you enter the room quickly with Thomas’ bag in your hands.

When you enter, you see Thomas on an exam table in a corner of the room. He’s just sitting there, both of his legs hanging off the table, his newly injured ankle out of his cleat and wrapped in ice to reduce the swelling. He still has his shoulder pads on and grass stains are evident on his dark uniform. He doesn’t notice you come in because his head is buried in his gloved hands.

You set his bag down, next to the door entrance and carefully make your way towards him. As you get closer, you can see his shoulders rise and fall with each shaky breath he takes. Gently, you place a hand on his arm, causing him to jump slightly.

“Hey, T. It’s okay, baby, it’s just me.” You say softly, tilting your head a little bit to make eye contact with him through his fingers. Slowly, he drops both of his hands to his lap, revealing his face to you. He looks like a ghost of his normal confident, cheery self. There are bags under his red eyes and you can tell that he is utterly exhausted.

But still, at the sight of you, Thomas’ lips twinge up into a sad smile (he doesn’t hide his distress as well as he thinks) as he reaches out to graze his fingers against your cheek. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He says, half-heartedly. He’s happy to see you, he really is, but his tone is dampened by the pain he is feeling. “What’re you doin’ in here? You should be out cheerin’ and havin’ fun with everyone else.” His voice is quiet, and you wonder if it’s because he’s afraid it will break if he speaks any louder.

“T, if you think I come to these games to hang with the rest of the team, you’re wrong. I come for you because I… I wanna support you.” You say earnestly, searching both of his eyes with yours.

At your words, he sends you a half-smile that turns into a grimace when his ankle throbs again. Thomas pats the space next to him, signaling for you to sit. You do, and immediately you notice his fidgeting and trembling hands that lay in his lap, still gloved from the game.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” You say quietly, carefully reaching for his palms to place them in your lap. Your fingers gingerly undo the strap to each of his gloves and you peel them off his hands one by one before you place them neatly next to you.

When you’re done, Thomas’ right hand gently grabs one of yours and wordlessly laces your fingers together. He presses a warm kiss to the back of your hand as a silent thank you. Silence stretches between you two for a little while as you just sit there, your thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask softly. You’re sure he has a million thoughts running through his mind, but you’re not sure how much more of this he can take before it finally sinks in and hits him.

“It hurts...” He says, releasing a shaky breath. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, letting him know your support wordlessly. While he’s been quiet since you’d walked into the room, your question unintentionally prompts Thomas to start pouring out his thoughts at rapid speed. 

“And… an— and I don’t know if it’s broken or not. Or if I’ll be able to play football this season, or ever again for that matter. I… I do think it’s broken, though. I’ve had sprains and they’ve never hurt like this.”

You can hear his breathing start to quicken as he continues to ramble.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. What if this ends my career, Y/N? I can’t end my high school career like this. All my plans for the future: gone. What about scholarships? I wanted to be in the NFL like my dad. How am I supposed to get drafted by the Giants if I can’t— if I can’t play college ball?” He shakes his head at the mention of his father as his voice darkens slightly. “And speaking of my dad, why aren’t my parents here when I fucking need them? I fucking do everything for them and they can’t be here when I actually need them? They went to a charity event in LA instead of my last regular season game when they knew a scout would be watching tonight. Oh my god, the scout. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay, T. Just breathe. You’re not alone in this.” You bring your other hand up to his cheek to turn his face towards you to make eye contact with him. You look at him firmly and tell him, “You’re going to be okay, babe. Let’s just take it one step at a time, one play at a time, just like Coach says, right?”

You vaguely remember Thomas telling you one night that Coach Washington lives by the ‘one play at a time’ code, which basically means taking things, in life and in football, one step at a time. 

Fortunately, you see Thomas visibly begin to calm down from your words. It’s heartbreaking to see him have a panic attack like this; all you want is for him to feel better, so you continue to talk, letting your voice soothe him.

“Let’s just stay positive and focus on the next step right now, babe. And right now, that next step is getting you to a hospital so that we can get that ankle x-rayed. Okay? We can do that, right?”

Thomas takes in deep breaths, his breathing slowly turning back to normal. After searching your eyes, he exhales heavily and drops his head before he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Yeah, we can do that.” He murmurs, so soft you can barely hear it. He starts to shake his head before he speaks again. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you seein’ me like this. I’m a fucking mess. And I know this isn’t how we planned today would go.”

“T, you’re allowed to have emotions. I don’t care if you’re a mess, I want to know that you’re okay. I’m your girlfriend. I’m here for you always. Not just when you win games.”

Thomas licks his lips and nods before he looks at you; his gaze is full of gratefulness and admiration, but the sorrow is still clearly evident. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but hesitates and thinks better of it. Instead, he leans over to hug you closely against his side (as best as he can with his shoulder pads still on).

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how much that means to me… how much you being here means to me.”

With the way Thomas has always treated you and the way he’s acting now, you feel like you do have an idea, though. He’s always shown you so much care and expressed how grateful he is through his actions every day. You know that you mean as much to him as he does to you… and that’s saying something.

You two stay like that for some time, but you know that you eventually have to pull away to follow the team physician’s orders and get him to the hospital. Slowly and gently, you pull back from his embrace and reach up to give Thomas a chaste kiss, it’s quick but reassuring at the same time.

“Okay, Tommy, let’s get these shoulder pads off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Fractured.

That is the word that sticks out most amidst the countless thoughts that swirl around Thomas’ head.

The hospital visit was surprisingly quick — in and out, resulting in Thomas leaving with crutches and a magenta cast on his left ankle. 

His parents had called while he was in the waiting room with you and Danté, his trainer from the team (some adult supervision had to be involved even though you and Thomas are 18). His father had told him that they’d be on the first flight out of LAX and back home first thing tomorrow morning. Both of his parents are worried about him (his mother is more vocal about it than his father) especially after Thomas called them back up to tell them the results of his x-rays. 

While he had felt his anxiety ignite again and spread throughout his chest at the news of his fractured ankle, he’d stayed strong in front of his family, the doctor, his trainer, and you. He took the news like a champ on the outside, but on the inside, he kept feeling like he could barely keep it together.

That’s where he is now: sitting silently in the passenger seat of his Mustang, trying to keep his emotions in check as you drive him home from the hospital. It’s not the first time you’ve driven his car, and while he’d normally make a charming comment about you looking extremely attractive driving the Mustang, he stays quiet. The repetitions of the doctor’s words still ring in Thomas’ mind, hindering him from acting anything like his usual self… and he hates it. He hates the effect that one word has on him.

Fractured. Fractured. Fractured.

“As you can see, your fibula is fractured right here above the lateral malleolus. Luckily, the bone isn’t displaced, so we’re gonna treat this as a…” 

After hearing the word he’s dreaded most, Thomas zones out and gets lost in thought as he mindlessly watches the doctor point to various areas on the x-ray.

“...don’t think surgery will be necessary; however, we do believe a cast is imperative. This does mean that there will be no physical activity, of any sort, for at least six to eight weeks. Do I make myself clear?”

Thomas doesn’t respond, staring blankly at the man in the white coat in front of him.

“Did you hear what I said, Mr. Jefferson?” The doctor asks more sternly, and Thomas snaps out of it. He stares up at the physician, his eyes more alert. 

“Yeah, Doc.” He says halfheartedly. He sounds so drained of energy, so unlike his usual self. “Loud and clear.”

Everything the doctor had told him at the hospital hadn’t exactly been a surprise; in fact, it’s exactly what Thomas had predicted. His ankle is broken and he won’t be able to play football for six to eight weeks… and that terrifies him. 

His high school football career is officially over… and he won’t get to finish out the playoff season with his teammates.

The silence in the car stretches on and when you get to the familiar road that leads to Thomas’ house, you sneak a glance over at him. He’s staring out the window and you are aware of the fact that he hasn’t spoken since he was released from the hospital. You can only imagine the whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind right now and your heart once again breaks for him.

You take your right hand off the steering wheel to gently lace your fingers with his, giving him a comforting squeeze to signify your reassurance. He squeezes back weakly, giving you a good indication at where he is mentally. You don’t want to poke or prod him, so you allow the silence to linger in the space between you two until you finally reach his home.

Once you pull into his garage and close it behind you, you go to release Thomas’ hand and get out of the car, but he tightens his hold on your fingers, preventing you from going anywhere. 

“T, babe, you gotta let me go so I can grab your stuff.” You say gently, letting the driver's side door fall shut after having already opened it. He’s still blankly staring out the side window when you turn to him. Thomas reluctantly lets go of your hand and you take that as an okay for you to get out. 

You walk over to the passenger's side of the car to grab his crutches out of the back seat. With his crutches in your grasp, you go to open his door. He quickly wipes at his left eye before he slowly turns his body and swings his legs so that he faces your direction. His magenta wrapped ankle rests carefully against the concrete floor of the garage. Thomas eventually looks up at you, revealing his red eyes and tear-filled gaze.

“Hey…” You murmur, jumping to quickly take action, seeing Thomas clearly in a state of distress. You lean the crutches against the side of the Mustang before you move to caress his cheek. 

Thomas just looks down and wipes at his eyes before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” He croaks, his voice breaking and wavering as he sucks in a shaky deep breath.

He moves to stand up, but your hands go to press down firmly on his shoulders. Thomas doesn’t seem to protest or resist against your touch as he stays seated with his feet still planted on the concrete. You shake your head at him as you try to catch his teary gaze.

“You’re clearly not fine, T.” You voice softly as you step into the open space between his legs. You bring your hands up to hold his face gently. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but please, Tommy, don’t…” You pause, searching for the right words, “don’t hold it all in. You don’t need to be a big tough guy in front of me. I know you.” 

A single tear rolls down his cheek as his resolve starts to slowly break. You tenderly wipe it away with your thumb as you gaze into his watering eyes. 

“It’s okay to cry, babe.”

And then, the last of his walls come tumbling down. Thomas lets his tears fall freely now as his face contorts into a sob. Your eyebrows furrow in concern as his composure crumples. You pull him to you as he ducks his head to bury his face in the material of your sweater.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Thomas cry and all you want to do is be there for him and comfort him to make him feel better — to make all his pain disappear.

You just stand there, one hand holding his head to you and the other rubbing comforting circles on his back to soothe him. You can feel his body shake with each sob as you try your best to console him and work him through it, occasionally murmuring reassuring words to him.

It pains you to see him like this. All you can do is embrace him and let the torrent of his tears soak through your sweater. You could feel him clutch at the fabric from the back of your sweater as he hugs you tightly to him, like he’s grasping at the only thing — the only person — keeping him above water at the moment. He holds onto you because you’re the one saving him from sinking into the depths of his negative thoughts and anxiety.

Thomas clenches his fists again and again, not knowing whether to be angry (at his parents, at the guy who tackled him, at himself) or to give up all hope. You can hear his irregular breathing as he whimpers against you. Gently, you run your hand over his curls, time and time again, in an attempt to calm the silent war within his mind. 

You stay like that for a while, soothing him as he lets out all of his pent up emotions. Over time, he gradually calms down, his breathing slowly returning back to a normal rhythm. Only the sounds of your and Thomas’ breathing can be heard as a tranquil quiet blankets the room.

Eventually, Thomas finally pulls back from you, eyes closed and he takes in a deep breath. It’s still slightly shaky, but he’s much better than the state he was in before.

You use your sleeve to gingerly wipe up the leftover tears that had wet his face. When you're done, both of your hands cup his cheeks as his eyes flutter back open. You send him a soft smile when you catch his gaze.

“There he is.” You whisper, letting your thumbs lightly caress his skin. “Hi, babe.”

He purses his lips before he responds, noticing the huge wet stain on the front of your sweater. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry for fucking up your shirt.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, T. Just means that I can steal another one of your hoodies.” 

That causes Thomas to crack a watery grin, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in hours. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long because his expression returns to a serious one in a matter of just a few seconds.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He murmurs before sniffing; his gratefulness is evident in his gaze, but it’s accompanied by a hint of fatigue as well. “Really. Thank you so much, baby. For being here. Supporting me. I… I needed that.”

“Of course, I’m here, T. I’ll always be here, okay?” You say, watching him slowly nod. After a few moments you speak again. “How’re you feeling? Better?”

He shrugs, looking up at you tiredly. “A little. I still feel like shit, but at least I don’t feel like I’m about to explode.” 

“Yeah, please don’t hold your feelings in like that, anymore. I really don’t wanna see my boyfriend explode because he’s ‘too manly to cry.’” You drop your hands from his face to form air quotes on the tail end of your sentence.

“Noted.” He breathes out a small laugh. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you watch him slowly turn back into his normal self. “Also, I feel gross and I’m in desperate need of a shower, so that’s not helping my mood right now, either.”

You grin at him. “Well, that can definitely be arranged once we get you outta this car.”

The small smile returns on Thomas’ face as you open the car door a little further, so that it’s open as wide as it can go. “That’s usually my job.” He says, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you grab ahold of his crutches once again.

“What?” You ask, watching Thomas rise as he slowly gets out of his car.

He grunts as he balances on his right foot and you hand him his crutches. When he situates himself and regains balance, he responds, nodding at the car door. “You opened the door for me earlier. That’s supposed to be my job, princess.”

You grin and roll your eyes, shutting the car door behind him as he moves forward towards the door to his house. “Yeah, well now it’s my turn to return the favor and treat you like a prince… especially given the current situation.”

You grab his backpack from the trunk of the Mustang as Thomas throws the door to his home open.

“Oh, you already do, darling.” He says over his shoulder before you follow him in.

When you get inside the house, you leave his bag by the door at Thomas’ request and drop his keys on the counter in the kitchen. Before Thomas goes to shower, he joins you in the kitchen and heats up (he insists on being the one to do it because he’s ‘not completely helpless’) some leftover macaroni in the microwave for you both as a late dinner. He’s starving after having played a game and gone through as much emotional and physical trauma as he did.

Halfway through your meal, you feel your phone vibrate repeatedly in your pocket. You realize you’ve forgotten about it for hours, having been worrying constantly about your boyfriend’s mental and physical health. You dig your phone out of your jeans to see your brother Erik calling you.

You glance over at Thomas who is nose deep in his dinner before you accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, finally, Jesus. Where are you? Why weren’t you responding to my texts?”

“I’ve been busy, tonight’s been a crazy night, okay?” You glance over at Thomas who’s now looking up at you from his food with an eyebrow raised. You mouth ‘Erik’ and he nods, returning to eat. “Thomas got injured at the game today. It was bad. Had to drive him to the hospital and everything.”

“Shit, man.” Erik says on the other line, sounding worried. He and Thomas had surprisingly gotten along well with each other since you two started dating. They play Madden with each other occasionally when Erik’s back in town, so you know they’ve created some sort of friendship/brotherly bond. “Are you still there? At the hospital?”

“No, we’re at his place now. Just got here. Eating dinner.” You say before you glance at Thomas who’s staring down at his food now. There’s no way you’re leaving him alone here overnight. “Listen, E, can you please do me a huge favor and cover for me? Just tell Mom and Dad I’m staying at Maria’s for the night. I can’t just leave T alone in an empty house when he just broke his ankle.”

“Broken ankle — Jesus, that’s rough.” Erik is quick to respond. “But, yeah, sis, I got you. You’ve covered for me plenty of times.”

You let out a sigh of relief, happy that you’ll have your parents off your back now. “Thanks, Erik.”

“So, how’s Thomas taking the news? Is he good to talk?”

You pull the phone away from your ear to ask Thomas if he wants to speak to your brother on the phone. You say Erik’s worried about him and he nods. You hand the phone to him and watch him as he holds it up to his ear.

“Yo, what’s up, E?” Thomas greets; his voice sounds tired, but he sounds more like himself now. “I’ve been better. Hanging in there, I guess.”

You continue to eat the rest of your dinner as Thomas and Erik talk.

“Yeah, fractured actually. Doc said a bunch of scientific stuff, but I wasn’t really listening. I just know that I can’t finish out the season.” Thomas is quiet, staring down at the kitchen counter until he chuckles at something Erik says. “Yeah, there’ll always be Madden, bro. Just bummed because I wanna be on the cover one day and I can’t do that when I’m injured and at risk of losing scholarship opportunities.”

He listens to Erik’s words before he looks over at you, a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I know. She’s been with me all night since it happened. Honestly, I don’t know what’d I’d be doing right now without her. You’re sister’s a real one, bro. Y/N’s a life saver.”

You smile at him sweetly as he watches you with a soft glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, no, you won’t have to worry about that, trust me.” He breathes out a short laugh. “Alright, bro, I’ll catch you later.” He’s quiet for a few seconds as Erik responds. “I will. You, too. Alright, bye.”

Thomas hangs up and hands the phone back to you.

“You guys good?” You ask, putting your phone back in your pocket.

Thomas nods, finishing up the last of his dinner. “We’re good. Erik’s a good dude.”

“You sure, bro?” You tease, a grin tugging at your lips. “Why do you say ‘bro’ every other sentence when you’re talking to my bro, bro?” 

By now, you know that Thomas code switches when he talks to his friends versus when he’s with you, but you can’t help but try to cheer him up by poking fun at him.

“Leave me alone, bro. That’s just the way I talk to all the bros, you wouldn’t understand.” He rolls eyes, a hint of a grin showing up on his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. You pick up your and Thomas’ plates and walk them over to the sink. “Just messin’ around, T. Givin’ you a hard time.” 

“Yeah, bro, give the injured guy a hard time, because that’s a good idea.” Thomas deadpans. As put off as Thomas tries to act, he can’t stay pretend mad at you for long. After all, your attempt at lifting his mood and pushing him back towards his normal self is working.

“Okay, alright, lesson learned. Don’t make me feel guilty.” You voice before you walk back over to Thomas, chuckling in the process. “And stop calling me ‘bro.’ I like ‘sweetheart’ more.”

You send him a smile before you give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Alright. Noted, sweetheart.” Thomas murmurs with a lazy grin when you pull back.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas doesn’t shower without making an offhand joke about you joining him. This time, he blames it on the fact that he’s ‘damaged goods’ and needs help undressing and that you’re really talented at that.

And although you roll your eyes and shove a trash bag at him so that he can cover his cast, you’re genuinely happy to see him bantering with you and joking around like he does normally. You know this injury is going to impact him immensely in the long run, both physically and mentally, but seeing him smile and joke around after pouring his heart out to you earlier in the garage really makes you extremely proud that he is holding his head high.

When you make sure that Thomas is all set to shower, you tell him to yell if he is actually in genuine need of your help. He says that he’ll be fine.

You make your way back to his room and get yourself comfortable. Although the tear stains on your sweater are now dry, you still go to Thomas’ closet to pick out one of his hoodies to sleep in. You also slip on some pajama shorts you’d left there from the last time you stayed over. It’s not your first time spending the night at Thomas’; the night of homecoming was… a lot of fun to say the least. And Thomas makes it a habit to sneak you into his room almost weekly, so you’ve resorted to leaving an extra change of clothes in his room just in case.

Finally comfortable in your new change of clothes, you fall back onto Thomas’ bed with a tired sigh before you grab your phone to check your messages. You see that you have a bunch of unread texts from Erik, Maria, and James.

Dismissing the texts from Erik because you just talked to him on the phone, you open the texts from James. He tells you that the Panthers won the game and that he and the rest of the team are worried about T. He also asks how Thomas is doing because he’s not answering his texts.

You respond, telling him about the fracture and that Thomas is taking it hard, but he’s staying strong and doing better now.

Then, you open the texts from Maria.

Maria (8:35pm): Hey, hope T’s doing okay

Maria (8:36pm): Hope YOU’RE okay too

Maria (9:07pm): Game’s over. Gonna go do the thing we talked about bc I made a promise, wish me luck

Y/N (11:13pm): hey, sorry M. haven’t really been checking my phone all night. T’s okay. broken ankle and he’s really bummed, but he’ll be okay. i’m doing okay too. being with T and seeing that he’s gonna be ok makes me worry a bit less

Y/N (11:13pm): but how’d the thing go?? please tell me it went well. u and ellie would b so cute together

Maria (11:15pm): No worries luv. Glad you and thomas are alright. Whole team was pretty shaken on the sideline after yall left. it was mad quiet even tho we were winning. And ellie was worried too.

Maria (11:16pm): Speaking of… the thing went well and I have a girlfriend now. Her name is ellie.

Y/N (11:16pm): omg congrats! beyond happy for u guys.

Y/N (11:16pm): T’s gonna be happy af lol when he finds out

Maria (11:18pm): Yeah now he can leave me tf alone about it every time he sees me

Y/N (11:19pm): lmao he was just tired of seeing yall circle around each other even tho u clearly had feelings for each other. i was too tbh

Y/N (11:19pm): but glad you guys are official now. you guys are ADORABLE together. i want all the details next time i see you, k?

Maria (11:20pm): I’ll give ALL the details on Monday lol. Promise.

Y/N (11:20pm): can’t wait 

You grin at your phone, genuinely happy for Maria and Ellie. Then, you hear the bathroom door open and Thomas’ crutches sound from down the hall, each sound getting louder as he nears the bedroom.

When Thomas gets to the doorway, you sit up, directing your gaze to him. “I’m guessing you didn’t need help showering after all?” You ask, giving him a once over. He’s wearing shorts and no shirt. Some water droplets still linger on the muscles of his biceps and toned torso, like he was lazy to fully dry himself with his towel.

“Guess not.” He says with a shrug, making his way over to the bed. He sits down on his side, making himself comfortable by laying down, sighing in content as he does so. “Would have definitely been more entertaining had you joined, though.”

“I’m sure it would have.” You muse with a grin, sitting up crossing your feet under you. You decide to tell Thomas the news Maria texted you. “So, Maria and Ellie are dating now.”

Thomas smiles as he laces his fingers behind his head as he relaxes back on his pillow. “Yeah? ‘Bout time.”

“Yep. Also, James texted me. He said that y’all won the game and that he and the team wish you well. He wants you to text him back.”

“Eh, I’ll text him back tomorrow morning. I’m too exhausted right now.” He says, closing his eyes for a second. “But thanks for relaying the message, baby. Glad we won.”

You nod at him before moving off the bed to close his door and turn off the lights. When you get back in bed, Thomas speaks again.

“You know? On the phone, Erik said ‘no funny business,’ but honestly? Not like we haven’t done anythin’ in this bed already…”

Your jaw drops at his suggestive words and although they’re true, you push his shoulder lightly anyway. “Thomas!”

He chuckles softly, looking at you as you slip under the blankets with him. “It’s the truth.”

“I know but doesn’t mean you should say it like that.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. You can tell he’s still hurting deep inside. Thomas being alone with his thoughts in the shower must have gotten to him. You shift closer to him and he rests his head on your chest as you gently thread your fingers into his hair to massage his scalp.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly as you feel him rise and fall with every breath.

It’s an honest question that you’ve been wanting to know the answer to all night. His breathing is even and calm as he ponders his next words. 

“You want the truth?” Thomas asks after a minute of silence. 

“Always, T.”

Thomas wedges his arms under you to wrap them around your torso. He’s quiet for a few more seconds until he speaks again, his voice small. 

“I’m scared, baby.”

You think about your next words carefully before you speak. “I think that’s normal, T. It’s okay to be scared.”

“Do you know how many careers end after an injury like mine?” He asks quietly, the vibrations of his voice reverberating on your chest. “I mean, I know the doc said I’d be better in six to eight weeks, but… who knows if I’ll be the same player? If I’ll be good enough again.”

“You will be.”

“What about college offers? What if no team wants me because of this fracture? Then, I won’t be able to market myself enough to go pro like my dad and I... I don’t think I could live with that, Y/N.”

“Hey, remember what I said in the locker room? One step at a time, baby. The NFL is a long way in the future, okay? Right now? Focus on healing yourself. Offers will come, but give them time. It’s still the beginning of the school year; you have time. You’re gonna get through this and you’re gonna be playing football again in no time. It’s probably gonna be a little difficult, but I know you can do it.”

You pull back to hold his face gently and look into his eyes which hold confliction within them once more. You can see the fear in them, the worry, and the flurry of emotions that he’s going through every second.

“You know why, T?” When Thomas shakes his head slightly, you continue. “Because you are Thomas Jefferson: the strongest guy I know. And I know that you won’t let anything get in the way of you achieving your goals.”

Silence stretches in the air for a few moments as your words sink in.

“And, T?” You start again before you give him a gaze that lets him know that you are absolutely sure of the next words you’re about to say. “Just know that I’ll be proud of you no matter what. I’m already proud of you and the person you are.”

He purses his lips, holding himself together as he closes his eyes and leans forward to press his forehead to yours tenderly. His grip around your waist shakes slightly as he holds you tightly to him, as if he’s afraid you’ll let go.

Thomas cherishes moments like these with you — the fleeting moments where being with you gives him a sense of calm and peace. It’s night and day compared to the chaos he has to endure during practices and games with yelling coaches, teammates, and fans. 

He loves football, though — he truly does. It’s been a constant in his life since the day he was brought into the world. Football has always been like his third parent; it’s taught him discipline, perseverance, and the importance of teamwork/family. Most of his crowning achievements thus far have been attributed to football and it’s something that he wants to stay in his life for the long-term future. Despite the fact that the sport has put him through more physical and mental pain than anything else, he’s still found a place for it in his heart.

But with you… with you Thomas has come to discover a different type of love. One that’s unconditional, unbreaking, and unforgiving. It’s the type of love that has him watching you with admiration at the most random moments. A certain kind of love that has him leaving home earlier in the mornings to pick you up from your house on his way to school just so he can spend a few extra minutes with you. It’s a love where he has completely, willingly given you his heart to do with as you please without him even really noticing. 

So when you show Thomas your unconditional support by telling him that you believe in him, he cherishes that more than he would any compliment from a coach or recruiter.

As he sits here, with your hands in his hair and his forehead pressed against yours, feeling the warmest and most comfort he’s ever felt (despite the fact that he’s injured) — three little words pop up in his mind for what seems like the millionth time today amidst all the bad things he went through.

Not wanting to succumb to the stereotypes of teenage relationships where those three little words are thrown around like nothing, you and Thomas had elected early in your relationship that neither of you would say it until one is absolutely sure of it. Right now, Thomas has never been more sure of anything in his life. That’s when those three little words finally make their way to the tip of his tongue. And before he knows it, those words come tumbling out as a soft, breathless whisper.

“I love you.” He says, his eyes fluttering open so that he can firmly hold your gaze to let you know that he genuinely means it.

Thomas brings his slightly shaking hands up to gently press them against your cheeks so he can hold your face. He pulls back slightly and his eyes search yours. His voice is the most confident it’s been all night, but he doesn’t let it get louder than a murmur. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything, actually. I just want you to know that—”

“I love you, too, Thomas.” You whisper, cutting him off. “If it wasn’t obvious from my little speech before.”

Your words cause both you and Thomas to breathe out a quiet laugh as you hold one another. After a few moments, he leans in to press his warm lips to yours in a soft kiss.

When he pulls away, he hugs you close to him and the sound of each of your deep breaths soothe each other as you both edge closer towards sleep. This is the most tranquil Thomas has felt in a long time and he embraces the feeling fully. He doesn’t think about anything else for once. Just you and your presence and the sound of your even breathing.

It’s not long before both of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Enamoured | Part Two

Requested by anon: “could you write one where james mcavoy meets swedish y/n around micheal and his swedish wife and he’s enamoured. (also that he confuses her with an english girl because she’s got an english accent like me) xxxx”

“THIS IS SO CUTE I- I love it??? So much??? 11/10 would read a part two ooof I wanna read about these dorks on an accidental date in London SO BAD”

Summary: after being tricked into a ‘date’, James takes the reader on a tour of London

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 1612

Warnings: very fluffy fluff

A/N: you guys requested part two so here we go, I hope you like it! As always, spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Masterlist | Part One

- - - - -

‘have fun with James, don't do anything I wouldn’t do ;) xxx’

As you read the text from Alicia it sinks in that you’ve been set up. Your mouth falls open slightly in shock and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head. James turns to look at you, wondering why you aren’t following him. 

“Are you coming or…?” 

This may have been a set up but that doesn’t mean you cant enjoy yourself. 

“Sorry, yeah. No more distractions” you smile and drop your phone back in your pocket before catching up with him “where are we going first?”

“It’s a surprise” he winks playfully and you raise an eyebrow back at him.

He takes you to the nearest Underground station and attempts to explain all the different lines and zones, you both end up laughing as it all goes straight over your head. The underground system is complicated. When you get off he leads you up to Leicester Square and tells you stories of various movie premiers he’s attended there. You end up stood watching a street performer for a while until someone in the crowd recognises James and attention is turned on him and subsequently on you. When people start asking you personal questions and sticking cameras in your face he ushers you away from everyone and into a taxi. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly and you just smile and nod your head gently. He smiles back but you can see on his face something is bothering him. He doesn’t speak much for the rest of the short taxi ride until he asks the driver to stop. He pays him and you both get out, then James leads you into a small Italian restaurant. He waiter and James greet each other like familiar friends. 

“You want your usual table?” The waiter asks with a thick Italian accent.

“Please, thank you Mario” James responds and your lead to a candlelit table in a quiet corner of the room. 

Once sat the waited gives you menus and leaves you to decide what you’d like. Then you notice the prices on the menu.

“James, this place is expensive! I can’t-”

“Don't worry, its my treat” he cuts in

“No really-”

“My treat” he reaffirms and you sigh in submission

“Thank you” you smile

“No problem” he looks back at the menu for a moment then puts it down on the table and takes a breath. “I’m really sorry about what happened back there”

“Honestly don't worry about it, its fine”

“No it’s not fine for them to harass you like that. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do and I wouldn’t want to do anything else I just wish sometimes I could switch it all off. You know? Be a ghost, or invisible or something. Have a day off from being James McAvoy and just be regular James. Ugh you must think I’m such an ass”

“No, no I get it. And I don't think you're an ass. I like regular James.” You pause “James McAvoy on the other hand… now he’s a bit of an ass” you wink and James bursts out laughing. 

— — — — 

When you finish lunch James pays and you leave the restaurant together. James continues his London tour by talking you to the theatre district, where he points out the many theatres he has performed in. A small gasp escapes your mouth when you spot the posters on the wall of the Lyceum Theatre. James looks at you and follows your gaze to see the you're staring at the Lion King. 

“I’ve always wanted to see that show” you say dreamily and James watches you. The look on your face gives him an idea. He hooks his arm around yours and leads you toward the theatre. 

“wh-what are you doing?” 

“trust me” he responds and he leads you around to the stage door. He knocks and a guy opens the door. When he sees James his eyes light up.

“James!” He booms as he fist bumps him

“Hey Andy, is Julie in?” James asks

“yeah, come in” he holds the door open and gestures you inside. He leads you through some doors till you meet a dark haired woman who hugs James.

“Hey Jules, this is Y/N.” James introduces and Julie smiles at you “She’s here from Sweden and she really really wants to see your show… don’t suppose you’ve got a couple of spare tickets for today’s matinee?”

“hmm.. I’ll see what I can do. But only because it’s you” she smiles at James before hurrying off. A few minutes later she appears again holding two tickets which she hands to James “sorted. Enjoy the show guys” and she hurries off again. You turn to James, a look of shock on your face.

“Oh, my, God! You're amazing!! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!” You throw your arms around him and he laughs, hugging you back. You pull away and look into his eyes “really, thank you!” 

— — — — 

The show was incredible, although James found himself watching your reactions more than the show itself. The way your face lit up when you laughed, the way you smiled through almost the whole show and the way your eyes glistened when the show made you cry. He couldn’t help but reach out and squeeze your hand. 

“that was just, ugh, I have no words. No words” you say grinning from ear to ear as you leave the theatre together “thank you so much” 

“you know I think thats the 100th time you’ve said thank you” 

“101st actually” you grin “seriously I mean it, today has been the best day ever”

“its not over yet” 

As the day turns to evening you spend the rest of the day doing typical tourist things. You stand outside Buckingham palace where James tries, and fails, to make the guards smile. You visit Oxford street and look through the window of magnificent shops. You end up running around Hamley’s toy store together, playing with various toys until you almost get kicked out by one of the workers for plastic sword fighting but James bribes her with an autograph and a selfie. You finish the day with a moonlit walk by the side of the Thames before ending up back where you started at the bottom of the London eye. 

You turn to face each other. You're about to speak when James stops you. 

“don't say it”

“don't say what” 

“don't say thank you”

“why not?” You laugh

“because im not finished yet”

“but its late, surely we’ve done everything by now”

“there’s still one more thing we need to do” he smiles and points up at the giant wheel next to you. 

He leads you up to the entrance of the London Eye and you step inside one of the glass dome. Once inside you notice there’s a small selection of food and some glasses of wine waiting for you. 

“you cant say you’ve been to London if you haven’t been on the eye” James holds up his glass and you clink yours against it. You sit together on the bench in the middle of the dome, looking out across the contrast of the bright London lights against the dark sky. When the dome reaches the very top of the eye you stand up and walk to the edge, admiring the glittering city in front of you. James walks up to join you, putting his arm around you. 

“So, how did I do as a tour guide?” He asks.

“I think, you chose the wrong career. You’re a much better tour guide than you are an actor” 

James fakes hurt and you laugh, turning to face him.

“I’m kidding. You're amazing at both” you smile sincerely and lock eyes with James. He brings his hand up to your face. 

“I think you’re pretty amazing too” he smiles, before gently kissing you on the forehead. When he leans back his eyes flicker down to your lips. He leans in slowly, giving you chance to pull away but you don’t. His lips meet yours and you close your eyes as you kiss him back.

When the kiss comes to an end you giggle nervously, suddenly feeling like a blushing school girl, which makes James laugh.

“I think we should take a picture, I want to remember this moment” he says taking his phone out. He pulls you in with his arm around you and you both smile widely as he snaps a selfie, the lights of London in the background. 

Your ride on the eye comes to an end and James hails a taxi for you. 

“Thank you for an amazing day, you’re the perfect tour guide” you smile, and James takes your hands in his. 

“Well you're the perfect tourer… tour-ee? I don't know the word, but you get what im trying to say” he replies and you both laugh as he opens the taxi door for you to climb in. “text me when you're back safe yeah?” 

“will do” you nod and smile as he shuts the door. The taxi pulls away, leaving him standing alone by the road. A few minuets later a notification pops up on your phone. 

‘instagram: @jamesmcavoyrealdeal tagged you in a photo’

You click on the notification to see he’s posted your London eye selfie, with a simple smiley face emoji as the caption. You like the photo and put your phone back in your pocket only for it to buzz again straight away. You take it out to see a text from Alicia with a screenshot of James’ insta post.

‘oh my God tell me everything xxx’

[hyungwonmyheart]

Sleepover

Group: SuperM / NCT Pairing: Lucas (Wong Yukhei) / Female Reader Words: 6,637 Tags: college!au, party time, drinking games, alcohol use, dirty talk, handjob, clitoral stimulation, vaginal sex, pet names Summary: You’re invited to a party by your best friend, Ten, at his apartment. When you get there, you discover the only people who showed up are some of his guy friends (the members of SuperM) and his roommate, Lucas; the one you’d been harboring some strong feelings for ever since he moved in. A night full of drinking games leads to you sneaking into Lucas’ room when everyone else is asleep, all thanks to liquid courage. A/N: I’ve been writing this freaking fic for months. There will eventually be a sequel, but it will not be featuring Lucas/Reader as the center point! I had a lot of fun writing the game section because it really showcased their personalities. Sometimes you just need to write silly filler. Anyway, I really hope y’all enjoy this! :D

“When are you getting back in town again?” Ten asked through the phone screen. He was sitting on his couch, eating lunch while video calling you. His phone was propped up on something, allowing him full use of his hands to enjoy the meal.

You were lying on your childhood bed, having visited your parents for a few days. You weren’t particularly concerned with the camera angle; it was just your best friend. “Tomorrow afternoon. I have Sunday off before I go back to work on Monday.”

“Hey, that’s perfect!” A new voice said just as someone popped their head into the frame. Ten’s roommate, Lucas, was all smiles when he laid eyes on you. “We’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come!”

At the sight of Lucas, you immediately sat up in bed and readjusted the phone to look your best.

Ten noticed, but nudged Lucas away to say, “Oh yeah, we’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come.” His monotonous voice lacked enthusiasm since his roommate spoiled the news.

“That sounds like fun,” you exclaimed, already looking forward to it.

Your friend swallowed a bite of food when a sly darkness came to his gaze. “By the way, you look great. Doesn’t she look great, Lucas?”

You narrowed your eyes on Ten, knowing what he was getting at, but only smiled as Lucas sat down beside him with his own plate of food.

“She always looks great,” the younger replied, shit-eating grin and all as he swept some of his hair out of his face. Then, he wasted no more time to dig into his lunch.

Ten wiggled his eyebrows at you, which only made you even more flustered.

“I gotta go, my mom’s calling for me,” you fibbed to get out of the conversation.

That made Ten suspicious. “I didn’t hear her--”

“See you tomorrow! Bye!”

“Hey, wai-”

You quickly ended the call before tossing your phone away and burying your face in a pillow. That little shit, you thought spitefully about your friend. He knew you carried a torch for Lucas, and never let the chance pass to tease you about it. Lucas was six feet of charming, goofy, raw charisma. He was undeniably handsome, and his smile was to die for. You were in deep, deeper than you ever let Ten know, though he probably figured that out for himself.

However, you couldn’t confront those feelings. What if you did pursue Lucas? What if things didn’t work out, and the awkwardness forced him to move? And then, Ten would have to go through the trouble of finding another roommate. You didn’t want to cause such a fuss. You could keep it in your pants if it meant helping them live in harmony.

Your phone jingled to alert you had received a new text.

Ten: Coward.

If only they could make it that easy on you.

•••••

You traveled home safely from your parents’, and immediately started getting ready for the party. You weren’t sure exactly what kind of party this was, so you opted with a smokey eye and rosy lip look while your clothes were trendy, yet casual enough to be comfortable in. The desire to impress Lucas lingered in the back of your mind...well, more like hovered over your back like a vengeful spirit ready to devour its next soul.

Okay, maybe that was a little dark, but it really was an ominous feeling, damn it!

All you wanted was to have a good time tonight, and if that good time included Lucas’ company, then everything would be perfect.

You made your way to Ten’s apartment around 8 o’clock that evening. You stood outside the door for a solid fifteen seconds, preparing yourself for knocking. Usually, you’d be inclined to stroll in without delay, but for some reason your anxiety was getting the better of you. This was just another party to hang out with some friends...and Lucas...Nothing to get so worked up about.

Knock, knock, knock.

You heard some footsteps approaching before the door swung open and Ten greeted you with a bright smile.

“Hey!” He said, giving you a hug before ushering you in.

“Hi!” You returned, immediately looking around the room. Your face fell a bit.

Sitting in the living room was a group of six other men. You knew all of them, though a couple you considered acquaintances. Mark and Taeyong were friends of Lucas’ you’d only met once before, while Baekhyun, Taemin and Jongin were the ones you saw on a regular basis with Ten.

You figured it must still be early. “Who else is coming?” You asked as you started to unzip your jacket.

“This is it,” Ten announced, motioning to the others.

You paused mid-zip. “Wait, wait, wait. I thought this was a party, not just some night for drinking with your boys.”

“Some people cancelled last minute, so it’s just us! And you! Yayyy,” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

You sighed, feeling a little put-off by being the only girl in a group full of guys, but whatever, you’d roll with it. You finished taking your jacket off, along with your shoes while you were at it.

“Before you start mingling,” Ten began, stepping between you and your line of sight to the living room, “I’m going to take this as an opportunity to let you know something that I found out.” The sudden sinister smile on his lips made your skin crawl. It had to be something interesting for him to make that face.

“Spill,” you demanded.

Ten lowered his voice. “Lucas told Baekhyun who told me that Lucas wants you.”

You raised a brow. “‘Wants me’?”

“Yeah,” he continued, “and he says he loves your smile and you’ve got a nice ass.”

Peeking over Ten’s shoulder, you nearly stared holes into the back of Lucas’ head as he sat on the couch. “And?” You asked to see if there was more while returning your gaze to your best friend.

“Oh, and he thinks you need a man who knows how to dick you down.”

Your mouth dropped.

Ten giggled. “Okay, I added that last part in.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved him playfully. You were still wrapping your mind around this. “Why would Lucas tell Baekhyun that? He literally has the biggest mouth--”

“--Because, unlike us, Lucas doesn’t know better not to tell Baekhyun anything like that,” Ten cut in.

You glanced down at your fidgeting fingers. This felt kind of unreal. You choked back your hesitation to ask, “Does he really want me?”

Ten blinked. “Are you serious? That boy has been fawning over you since Day One.”

Shaking out the anxious energy from your hands, you took a deep breath and primped your hair a bit. If this was true, you had to make sure. Tonight.

You heard Lucas’ voice from behind Ten as he loudly said your name. “You made it!” He exclaimed, bringing you into a warm hug.

You breathed in his cologne and never wanted the hug to end. When he pulled away, much to your internal disdain, you smiled up at him. “Hey, Lucas,” you said before waving at everyone who was now staring at you from across the room. “Hey, guys!”

They all said their hellos as you walked into the living room with Lucas and Ten close behind you.

“Can I make you a drink?” Taemin offered, going to stand from the couch.

“She can do it her damn self,” Ten quipped as he took a seat on the floor by the coffee table.

You started poking his side with your toes, knowing it was going to bug him.

He swatted at your foot, but you moved too quickly for him to touch you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“C’mon, I’ll make it for you,” Lucas said with a laugh. He placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and guided you towards the kitchen.

You ignored the silence that followed as everyone watched the two of you leave, but you were relieved when Ten started up the conversation with, “Which one of these drinks was mine again?”

“You should’ve gotten a Sharpie so we could write our names on the cups…” Jongin stated.

“That would have required thinking ahead,” Baekhyun teased, sipping at his own drink.

Mark chimed in, “You really don’t have a Sharpie? Anywhere?”

Ten sent a glare around the room. “Fresh out.”

Their discussion faded as your focus was overwhelmed with Lucas’ presence.

“Whatcha got a taste for?” He asked, motioning to the plethora of alcohol and mixers scattered across the kitchen counter.

You couldn’t really say ‘your dick’ without dying of shame, so instead you went for, “A shot of tequila.”

Lucas smirked and reached for a shot glass from one of the cabinets. “Anything else?” He questioned as he poured your shot.

You snatched it off the counter and tilted your head back, downing it. You hissed a bit before setting the glass down. If you got some alcohol in your system quickly, you would surely loosen up and relax more. That was your logic. Your eyes flickered to his as a flirtatious smile played on your lips. “Another shot of tequila?”

The low chuckle that came from his direction traveled straight to your core. “Don’t go too hard yet, we’ve still got games to play,” he informed you while pouring your second shot.

You tossed the tequila back once more. “But I like to go hard,” you couldn’t stop yourself from saying.

A look of surprise crossed his face, but you quickly turned away to mix yourself a cocktail. You cursed your dirty mind. Maybe he didn’t catch the innuendo in your words…

After you stirred your drink, you let Lucas--who was now awfully quiet--lead you back out into the living room.

Taeyong stood from the couch and offered you the seat. “The lady shouldn’t sit on the floor,” he declared, sitting down beside Mark.

Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if it was from the gentlemanly act or the tequila.

Probably both.

You thanked Taeyong and sat between Baekhyun and Taemin. Lucas wheeled in the computer chair from his bedroom, while the others remained on the floor.

Ten clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms against each other. “Since this is it, how about we start a game?” He suggested.

“What game?” A few questioned simultaneously.

“I thought we could start with a game called ‘Most Likely,’” he continued. “Basically, we’ll go around in a circle. Each person thinks of a question to ask everyone in the room, like, who is ‘Most Likely to fall asleep first at a sleepover?’ Or ‘Most Likely to lose their phone while it’s on silent?’ Silly questions, dirty questions, all are welcome. Then, everyone points to the person they think are Most Likely to do so. Whoever has the most fingers pointed at them has to drink!”

“That sounds like fun!” Mark gabbed.

“Then, I’ll start!” Ten announced. “Everyone got their drinks? Yeah? Okay! Who is Most Likely to feel comfortable walking around naked?”

Baekhyun started to laugh. “Oh, we’re starting out dirty right from the get-go, huh?” When everyone’s fingers pointed in his direction, his smile faltered and he pouted. “Hey! Are you guys ganging up on me?”

“Are you really going to sit there and act like you don’t?” Jongin said in disbelief.

“W-Well, no, but--”

“THEN DRINK!” Ten and Taemin demanded.

Baekhyun begrudgingly took the first sip of the game before boasting, “Me next!” He tapped his chin in thought before asking, “Who’s Most Likely to eat an entire pizza in one sitting?”

Fingers gravitated to Lucas.

Without even arguing, Lucas raised his cup to his lips.

The next few questions went by with brief discussions.

You asked, “Most Likely to get a million followers on a social media platform?” Unanimously decided that would be Taemin.

Taemin asked, “Most Likely to become an evil mastermind and plan to take over the world?” Well, that was right up Ten’s alley, though it was agreed you’d be his minion.

Taeyong asked, “Most Likely to forget something at the grocery store if they don’t have a list?” He shot a playful glare at Mark, to which the younger apologized to his own roommate ‘for the thousandth time.’

Mark asked, “Most Likely to become a supermodel?” One would think it went to Lucas since he was so tall, but everyone agreed there was something about Jongin that would draw the eye in that sort of situation.

Jongin stared into his drink for a few seconds as he thought. “Most Likely to abandon their room because of a spider?” A smile crept to his lips as all the fingers pointed to you.

You narrowed your eyes on each person before defending, “Okay, first of all, when it’s a big spider and it disappears from my sight, of course I’m going to get the fuck out of that room!”

Baekhyun snorted. “Until someone else comes and finds it and kills it for you.”

“Remember that time you slept in your living room for five days because you couldn’t find that one spider?” Ten brought to your attention.

You glared at your best friend. “Go to hell.”

“We’ll ride down together, my little minion,” he cackled. “Now drink.”

You took a big gulp from your cup.

The game continued. Lucas asked, “Most Likely to spend an entire day playing video games?”

The vote had barely even come down to Baekhyun before he raised his hand. “I’ll take that crown, thank you!” He beamed, taking a drink.

You giggled. This was actually pretty fun.

“Okay, we’re back to me,” Ten announced, carefully picking out his next question. “Most Likely to become an escort?” He wiggled his eyebrows towards Taemin, obviously thinking everyone would choose him.

Ten didn’t expect the fingers around the room to point at him again. After more thought…they were probably right. "Okay, yeah, I can see that,” he started, “but listen, I have very expensive tastes. I just need a sugar daddy instead."

Laughs filled the room, but then Taemin chimed in, "You say that, but..." He glanced at Taeyong, who'd yet to have been picked for a question. "Who's most likely to be a sugar baby?"

Most fingers were directed at Taeyong.

Ten, who was pointing at himself, pouted, but ended up nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see that."

Taeyong’s face flushed. “But why me?!”

Leaning over from his seat, Taemin jokingly grabbed Taeyong’s chin and squeezed his cheeks together. “You’re sweet, and who wouldn’t give money to that face?” He mocked, though laughed loudly as Taeyong slapped at his hand.

“Are you trying to say that I would take money from some old dude just because I’m cute?” Taeyong’s cheeks were blood red at this point. His flustered gaze was on the ground. You noticed that Ten couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

Baekhyun crossed one leg over the other, smirking over at the embarrassed man. “Who said it had to be an old dude? There are lots of women out there who’d love to have you around.”

You kept your gaze on Ten, picking up on the subtle twitch of his eyebrow when Baekhyun spoke about a woman getting Taeyong’s attention. Oh, so I’m not the only one with the hots for someone… You thought, stifling a giggle.

“You’d be crazy not to,” Ten butted in, finally tearing his eyes away from Taeyong. You knew your best friend, and you knew he wasn’t always one to act on his feelings unless he was sure of the other party’s attraction to him as well. He swirled his drink around in his cup. “Free money? Hell yeah.”

Taeyong finally sent a glance at your friend, a distant look of hurt in his gaze. “Nothing’s ‘free’, Ten.”

Ten couldn’t stop himself from poking a bit more fun. “Okay, so you’ll have to do a bit of literal ass kissing, but you’ll be living comfortably,” he said with a laugh.

You exchanged awkward glances with Lucas, and you immediately knew he caught on to Ten’s feelings as well. It may not have been obvious to anyone else, but you two were the ones he was closest with.

You brought your arm down in front of you, as if cutting the tension with a knife. “All right, all right, next question…”

A few more rounds went by before it came to Mark again. Like his roommate, Mark’s cheeks were also flushed, but you realized he was a bit drunker than the others in the room. His drink was almost gone, and if you remembered correctly, Lucas may have mentioned at some point that his friend was a lightweight. “Most Likely to pierce their dick?” Mark almost slurred.

Lucas motioned to you. “That’s not fair, she can’t answer that!”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine, pierce their ‘genitals’?”

“That just sounds even dirtier,” Jongin murmured.

Ten chuckled, “The dirtier the better, in my opinion, but it sounds like Mark’s the one who’s interested in it.”

“I never took Mark as being that kinky,” Baekhyun snickered.

Mark gasped and shook his head vigorously. He immediately regretted that. He lifted his hands to his temples, trying to massage the headache and nausea away.

“What the hell is he drinking?” You inquired, curious to what had him so messed up this early in the night. You looked around at the others, but froze when you realized Lucas was staring at you. When he quickly averted his eyes, you felt a flutter in your stomach.

Taemin snorted at your question. “I made him a drink; it must’ve been too strong for him.”

If Mark’s concoction from Taemin was that strong, now you were grateful that you made your own drink.

“Are you still okay to play?” Lucas asked Mark.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the younger insisted.

“Then, let’s keep going,” Ten declared.

It was Jongin’s turn. “Most Likely…” He pondered for a few seconds. “Most Likely to have sex in public?”

Even Taemin pointed at himself. “What can I say, I like the thrill?” He rubbed the back of his neck innocently.

When the time came for Lucas’ next question, he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked around at the people in the room. “Who is Most Likely to be a pornstar?” His low voice sent tingles to your fingertips.

Such a dirty question from the man you liked so much. That was all it took for your mind to drift off at the thought of Lucas being a pornstar. You imagined him slowly taking off his clothes, and giving you ‘come hither’ eyes. He was so tall, you were sure he had to be packing. His hands would travel down his chest, his solid abdomen, eventually reaching the waistline of his underwear. The ‘V’ line of his hip bones trailing under the fabric.

“Hello? Earth to--”

You snapped out of your trance and realized everyone was waiting for your answer. You cleared your throat and absently voted for Taemin like everyone else.

“I’m the answer to all of these. Why am I the pervy one?” He puffed his cheeks out.

“Well, if the cock ring fits…” Baekhyun joked, making everyone start laughing.

Taemin reached over you to slap Baekhyun’s arm, but you ended up tickling him under his own arm. With a gasp, he sat back and gawked at you. “Excuse me, I’m sensitive!”

“Yeah, sure,” you giggled. Your eyes flickered over to Lucas.

He was watching you again, and you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy coming from his direction.

After a few seconds, you finally looked over to Ten to see him giving you a suggestive smile. You immediately cursed his existence as he asked the next question.

“Most Likely to sleep with a friend’s friend?”

Fingers from around the room, including your own, pointed to Ten, yet his and Baekhyun’s were pointing to someone else.

Lucas.

Mark burst into laughter. “Lucas?! Yeah, right! This goody two-shoes?!”

Lucas’ face turned red all the way to his ears. “Shut up, Mark. Taeyong, take his drink--”

“NO!” Mark shouted, suddenly downing the rest of the alcohol in his cup.

A moment of chaos broke out as Taeyong and Lucas leapt to get the cup, but it was too late, and everyone else was laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile, your eyes briefly met Ten’s. You glanced to Taeyong, back to Ten, and gave him a knowing smile. “Lucas isn’t the only one most likely, huh?” You whispered. That seemed to shut him up for a moment before you stood and went into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath away from everyone else, you were trying to keep your cool. The way Lucas reacted to that last question, the way he’d been staring at you all night, the way he gently touched your back earlier; Ten was right, Lucas liked you way more than you wanted to acknowledge.

You were ready to give in.

After refilling your drink, you returned to the living room.

Ten beamed at you. “She’s back! Let’s play another game! It’s called ‘Flip Cup’--” He paused, looking at the youngest in the room. “Mark should probably sit this one out, though…”

•••••

3 A.M.

The party had settled about an hour before. The guys were too drunk to go home, so Ten and Lucas helped set them up to sleep in the living room while you changed into the spare set of pajamas you left over here for situations like this. It was also obvious that you were going to stay in Ten’s room.

“I can sleep on the floor,” you had told him after he suggested sharing the bed. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“...Are you sure?” Ten asked, purely confused.

You nodded, taking a pillow from the bed. You had a plan, and you were just drunk enough to have the confidence to do it.

Luckily, you were too wired to accidentally fall asleep, so you laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling for a while until you were sure Ten was passed out. When you finally built up the courage to get out of your makeshift bed, you carefully stepped over to the door and opened it. Turning your head, you took one final glimpse at your best friend, who was sound asleep, before closing the door. You could hear soft snores coming from the living room as you crossed the hall to Lucas’ room. You stared at the doorknob for a long while.

You had to get out of your head if you were going to do this.

Just fucking do it, you snapped at yourself. Grasping the handle, you twisted the knob and peeked your head into the room.

Lucas was curled up in his blankets, his head tilted to the side where you couldn’t see.

Ever-so slowly, you entered the room and locked the door behind you. It was now or never. Creeping over to his bedside, you lifted the covers and crawled into the bed. You waited a few seconds to see if Lucas would stir, but his steady breathing reassured you that he was fast asleep.

How did you want to do this? His body heat radiated under the blankets and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to him. Scooting over, you snuggled into his side and let your hand flitter down his bare abdomen to find solace between his legs. You praised his creator, who blessed him so, while you massaged his length through the sweatpants he wore. It soon twitched to life.

Lucas let out a soft grunt before stirring from his drunken slumber. He slowly turned to look at whoever was touching him, squinting through the darkness to lay eyes on you. You could see the confusion pass through his expression, as if he were wondering if this was some alcohol-induced wet dream.

You flashed him a sweet smile, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He quietly croaked, his voice pitchy before he tried to clear the grogginess.

You kept your voice down to tell him, “Ten said Baekhyun said you wanted me. Well, here I am.” You squeezed on his hardening cock, palming it a bit more firmly.

Lucas leaned his head back, sighing with pleasure. He didn’t know whether to curse or praise Baekhyun’s big mouth. A soft groan left him, his hips lifting to meet your hand.

You swallowed hard. There was something about the sounds he was making and the way he was moving that made you want to wreck him. “What exactly was it you wanted from me, baby boy?” You asked, gripping even harder onto him.

Your pet name sent a chill through his body. When he realized just how strong your grip was on his aching cock, trapped inside his sweatpants, Lucas knew you wouldn’t let him beat around the bush. “Everything,” he answered.

You raised a brow. “That’s awfully greedy, and very vague. C’mon, baby, tell me what you want from me?”

Lucas met your sultry gaze through the darkness. “You. I just want all of you,” he replied earnestly. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Your face felt hot as your hand faltered briefly. “And you’ve kept that a secret? For months?!”

His hips moved to get some kind of friction on his length from your hand. He took a deep breath and nodded. “I thought it was obvious!” He defended before you shushed him.

“You need to be quiet. Everyone’s asleep,” you told him. Pulling the blankets back, you maneuvered yourself to straddle his waist and stared down at him while grinding down on his groin. “I want everything from you, too, Lucas...Let’s make up for lost time.” Your voice was soft, but your words were so sincere that you felt him twitching under you in response to hearing them.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you to say that,” he growled, sitting up to grab the back of your neck. He guided your lips to his and thrust his tongue into your mouth.

You whimpered, taking in every taste of toothpaste and lingering alcohol. You scratched your nails down his chest before playing with the hem of his sweatpants.

“Wait--” Lucas breathed, breaking apart from the kiss. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside as he moved to kiss what skin was revealed of your breasts. His fingertips grazed around your waist and up your back, his touch hot and needy to get you naked as well. He managed to unclip your bra and bit down on the delicate flesh just above one of your nipples while he slipped it off.

Gasping at the sensation, your head fell back while your hips rotated down onto him. “I need you...” The whine slipped from your lips with a desperate yearning. Just hearing your words made him moan out in response, making your hand quickly cover his mouth. You hardly meant the words you were about to say, but you wanted to see his reaction. “We can’t do this if you’re going to be loud. Maybe I should go--”

The panic in his eyes almost made your heart burst with affection. He didn’t have a right to be this cute. “Stay! Stay!” He whispered against your hand. As he pressed his chest against yours, he nudged your hand away to fiercely capture your lips. You could feel in the way he held you, his nails now dragging down into the flesh of your back; he wasn’t going to let you go. You were hopelessly lost in his kiss.

As his fingers traveled lower behind you, they reached your pajama pants and dipped under the fabric to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Lucas’ hand slipped even further down to delve its fingers between your sopping wet folds. He let out a heavy breath against the kiss, dipping a tentative finger into your pussy.

Your eyes widened and you shuddered, your breathing just as feverish as you rotated your hips into his touch. His finger swirled around in your juices, and it was muddling your mind. You came into this wanting to wreck him, and suddenly it was very much turning the other way. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed and breaking from his kiss.

Lucas stared up at you with those bright, puppy-dog eyes. “What’s wrong?” He was nearly breathless.

That made you smile. “I just need more than your finger,” you admitted, helping him rid his sweatpants. When you were perched atop his naked body, you finally saw what you were getting yourself into. Well--more like what was going to get into you. Your mouth fell open a bit, but you quickly shook off your initial shock. Feeling it through pants and seeing it in all its glory were a bit different.

He tried to hold back a smirk, but the way you were looking at him only boosted his ego. He said your name, which snapped you out of your daze. “Is everything okay?” The mock in his voice only irked you.

You nodded, trying to ignore that smug little way he smiled up at you. Licking your lips, you started rubbing your warmth against his cock. As it grazed your clit, you lifted a hand to your mouth to keep back any noise. That felt really good. You grinded down even harder, bringing sighs of ecstasy from both of your mouths. Your hips had built up to a pace that eventually made Lucas growl and flip you over onto your back.

“No more teasing,” he declared, his cock prodding at your entrance. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then fuck me, baby boy,” you hissed as you parted your legs even more for him.

Lucas brought you into another kiss to stifle both of your moans as he finally guided his cock into you. It was a tight squeeze, taking a half-dozen minimal thrusts until he had sheathed most of himself inside. Your walls clenched down around him, and it was like he was in heaven on earth. He swallowed every sound that threatened to escape your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you clung to his broad frame. When he withdrew his length and gave you his first full thrust, you quickly realized that staying quiet was going to be a real problem.

That thought also occurred to Lucas. He, however, had no intention of holding back anymore. Parting from your lips, Lucas gazed down to see a hopeless look in your expression and smiled. “Mm, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he purred, building up a strong rock of his hips.

You gasped and bit your bottom lip. Your eyes were glued to his. The more he thrust, the harder it became to stay sane. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you panted into your palm.

It was easy to hear the ragged way you were trying to keep some control over your sounds. You were so adorable. He had wanted this for months, and now that you were finally here with him, his bed wasn’t so lonely anymore. He prayed you were enjoying yourself as much as he was. “Is it good for you?” He murmured, nipping a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes,” you rushed under your breath, “yes, yes, yes!” Your hands wove themselves into his hair and attempted to yank him back down to kiss again.

Lucas lowered his head a few inches, just enough to graze your lips before he lifted it again. He waited for a whine of objection before he grinned at you. He sat backward on his haunches and steadily gripped your waist. He wet his lips as he studied the way your bodies met through the shadows. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know?” He said, not much caring for the volume of his voice. “I can’t get enough…” He leisurely drew his hips back, watching every inch of his dick as it pulled out to its head. He paused just a moment before sliding in as much as he could possibly fit inside you.

You nearly choked on air as he touched you so deeply. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his wrists, as if gripping onto them would get you some semblance of control over the situation, but no. Lucas was in control now.

The seductive smile that met you through the darkness of the room made it quite clear of that.

When you felt him start to work his hips in such a way that was making the head of his cock touch your sweet spot with every caress, you were frantic. You couldn’t hold back the moan that slipped into the air, and you knew the thin walls of the apartment would do nothing to shroud it.

His eyes danced. “Do you like that spot?” He asked with fascination. Giving his next thrust a bit more gusto, you groaned loudly before you could catch yourself. It finally occurred to you what he was doing.

Lucas seemed to have a determination to make you wake the whole freaking apartment.

Not him.

You.

If there was one thing Lucas should know about you by now, though, it was that you were stubborn. You glared at him. “You’re doing this on purpose!” You half-heartedly spat.

His thrusts halted again. “Doing what?” He asked obliviously.

“Trying to wake everyone up!”

He snorted. “Need I be the one to remind you again that YOU woke ME up?!”

You rolled your eyes. “I thought it would be kinky, but you’re just trying to make it awkward for everyone else!”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Lucas let those words hover between you before he abruptly pulled out of you.

Honestly, he could have leaned down, captured your lips again, and kept at it that way, but he came up with a different plan. You wanted kinky, after all… “Fine. You want to stay quiet?” You were in utter confusion before you felt his large hands flip you over onto your stomach. He roughly grabbed your hips and lifted your ass. “Bite the sheets,” he snipped, thrusting back into you with reckless abandon.

Doing what you were told, you clamped your eyes shut and gritted the sheets between your teeth as you struggled to remain silent. Lucas kept up the relentless pace for a few minutes until you heard him curse softly and his hips stutter.

You hadn’t quite built up to your peak yet, so the reality of Lucas meeting his end made your stomach drop.

Until you felt him grip onto your waist even harder and quickly pick the tempo up again.

You were shocked. “D-Didn’t you just come?” You asked over your shoulder.

Lucas wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, but fuck, you feel so good. I can’t stop,” he grunted, slamming into you. “You said you like it hard, right?”

His stab at what you said earlier in the night had you whimpering, “So hard! God, yes, fuck me hard!”

“Shut up, or else you’ll wake everyone up!” He put pressure on your back and pinned you to the bed. “Unless you want everyone to hear you panting like a bitch in heat over my cock…”

Your jaw fell open as you tried to quickly turn and snap at him, but Lucas had a hand over your mouth before you could say a word.

He leaned over your body to growl into your ear, “Tell me I’m wrong.” He drove his cock as deeply as possible into your clenching cunt. “Tell me you aren’t a writhing mess from me fucking you.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before he pinched your nose. He continued bucking into you as he cut off your access to oxygen.

Digging your fingers into the sheets below you, it was a frantic attempt to stay conscious as your body finally broke down. Succumbing to his powerful thrusts, you climaxed just before you could black out. Lucas’ hand withdrew from your face in time to keep you awake. Your ears were ringing, you were seeing stars, and your pussy was convulsing around him.

With a groan of pleasure, Lucas rested his head on your shoulder as he came again.

There was a moment of silence that felt more like a high-pitched buzz as the sensation of release hummed through your bodies. Lucas slid out of you just as he slumped onto the mattress beside you. He couldn’t meet your eyes, so he covered his face with his hands instead.

All at once, you felt your senses return to you and you were aware of what was happening. Lucas had laid down and hid himself from you, and you had no clue why. Reaching out for him, you used what strength you had left to reveal the embarrassment on his face. “Are you okay?” You asked, nuzzling his jaw with your nose.

Lowering his hands, with your help, he gaped at you in disbelief. “I should be asking YOU that!” He exclaimed, flipping onto his side. He grabbed your head in his hands and peppered kisses all over your face. “I went overboard, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I said those things to you!”

You started laughing at his burst of affection. “Lucas, it’s okay,” you laughed, finally catching his lips as they went to peck your cheek. Getting lost in the kiss, you relaxed only when you felt his body start to settle down. Eventually, you pulled away and wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face in his chest. “I didn’t realize you were into that…” You said with amusement.

“I don’t know where it came from! You must have brought that out of somewhere in the depths of me,” he joked, lightly scratching his nails up and down your back.

“...I liked it,” you admitted.

A cheesy grin came to his lips, but you were too busy being smothered by his sculpted chest to know it. “...I like you.” His voice was low and sincere.

You giggled and pressed teasing kisses along his collarbone, emphasizing each word. “I. Like. You. More.”

His embrace tightened around you. “I doubt that,” he cooed, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head. A thought occurred to him. “...Ten is going to wonder where you went in the morning, and then what will we tell him?”

“The truth,” you stated simply. “You know, that we’re together now.”

“It’s about time,” he joked, resting his chin against your head.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “it is.”

•••••

Just as things settled down in Lucas’ bedroom, things in the living room were settling as well. Having roused from the sounds coming from down the hall, Jongin, Taemin, Baekhyun and Taeyong were staring at various places around the room with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Mark was passed out, snoring on a futon in the corner of the room. Apparently, he could sleep through anything when he was that drunk.

When it seemed like the main attraction was over, Baekhyun grumbled, “Finally!” And Taemin mumbled something along the lines of, “I can sleep now.” Steady breathing filled the room again.

Everyone else had fallen back asleep, yet Taeyong’s eyes were on the ceiling. He couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his head. He glanced at the hallway to see a light dimly shining from underneath Ten’s door. He had to be awake too.

If you could be brave, then Taeyong convinced himself he could be as well. He crawled out of his makeshift bed and tiptoed over to Ten’s room. He could do this…

[lesbianlotties]

the only touchstone of truth

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: I Care A Lot (2020) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fran/Marla Grayson Characters: Marla Grayson, Fran (I Care A Lot) Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Origin Story, Canon Backstory, First Meetings, First Kiss, First Dates, Getting Together, Morally Ambiguous Character, Illegal Activities, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Partners in Crime, crime wives

Chapter 2:

There was something different about Marla that day. She wasn’t bored, she wasn’t idly waiting. She was waiting, true, but only because that was part of her plan. Standing behind her counter, her shop more or less back in shape, she wore a different blouse, higher heels, and a smile that sharpened, even more, when somebody came in. Marla sent a quick nod to Curtis, who had instructions on what to do. He pulled out his phone and walked away toward the storage room of the place.

“Marla,” the man greeted her with a perfectly polite and respectful tone that already started to crumble on his second sentence, “I wonder, what on Earth are you trying to do?”

“Mr. Nelson, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marla replied, “It’s a pleasure to have you visit us.” What an honor to have you millionaire, corporate, chain store, ugly ass step on my broken dreams physically this time.

“You cleaned up the store,” he sighed, looking around as if to take a hold of his emotions.

This promptly reminded the blonde of the couple of hours she spent with Curtis destroying her own shop and then putting it back together again. In the upcoming years, Marla would learn just how far she was capable of playing dirty, and many would accuse her of being unscrupulous, among worse adjectives, but nobody would ever dare call her lazy, that was for sure. With or without morals, Marla was an extremely hardworking woman, and she wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty, for better or for worse. A practical habit that she cultivated during her days of playing fair, and kept, for some reason. Most likely because idleness simply went against her nature, and she had promised herself not to rest until she achieved her goals. 

“We did, yes. Lots of hard work,” the blonde nodded, “such a shame what happened.”

“Such a shame,” the man echoed the sentiment, speaking on autopilot, but when he focused his eyes on Marla again he was all ice. “You’re accusing us of doing it,” he said.

Purposefully, Marla gave him a deep shrug and another shark-like smile. “I believe it’s the police who marked your company as suspects,” she replied in a mockingly innocent tone.

“We didn’t do it. And the accusation is bad publicity for our business. Drop the lawsuit,” he ordered, his voice starting to shake just slightly. When Marla only shook her head slowly, he scoffed. “You’re nothing, Marla Gray,” he seethed, “Your little business is over. Why would we try to boycott you out of all people? You’re not even competition. Drop the lawsuit.”

“Grayson.”

“What?” he was still laughing with a combination of awkwardness and annoyance.

“My name is Marla Grayson,” she stated using the full power of the commanding nature that she knew she had, “and I will fight for this shop until the end.”

He scoffed again, clearly losing his patience. The man walked to the door of the store and back to the counter once, twice, until he calmed down and not quite looking Marla in the eyes, he offered, “Twenty thousand dollars, and you’ll drop the lawsuit.”

“No,” Marla denied it immediately and before she could fully think about how offensive the offer was, he continued.

“Fifty thousand, Marla,” he said, his face red and his voice trembling. It was a pretty number that put Marla at a crossroads between the attempt to feel offended and the impulse to just ask for more. Either way, that number would not do. She only tilted her head and her expression said it all. “A hundred thousand dollars, dammit! Final offer!”

At this point, Marla made it a point to pick up her vape pen and look as bored as possible. “Please get out of my store, Mr. Nelson. I’ll see you in court,” she concluded.

He shook his head, he was breathing heavily and wildly waved a finger in her direction. “No! This is not over,” he protested, “How dare you say no to me?! I’ll make you regret it, you know?” He made a pause and after seeing that his threat did nothing to disturb her, and in fact, she only exhaled the smoke in a terribly irritating way, he slammed his hands on the counter right in front of her, “Dammit just take the money!”

“I will not,” Marla fumed back at him, barely letting show a hint of her patience running out.

“And you better stop screaming.”

Both Marla and her unwanted guest hastily looked toward the door of the shop. There was Fran, casually leaning against the doorway, not so casually showing off her plaque. At first, the man didn’t even move from his place. But Fran let out a quick whistle and said, “This aggressive visit will not look on your case, Mr. Nelson.”

Finally, the big store owner groaned loudly and without even sparing either woman a word, he stormed away from the place for good.

This quick turn of events left Marla and Fran alone in the shop. Marla stayed behind the counter that she managed to handle like an equivalent to a throne, and Fran took a couple of effortless steps forward until she stood in the middle of the place, directing a small and easy smile at the other woman.

“I must say,” Fran started to say, “I didn’t expect to receive this ‘Marla needs help, come over right now’ text from a number, I assume, that isn’t yours.” She waved her phone once for emphasis.

“Personally, I don’t usually give my number to strangers,” Marla replied, earning herself a chuckle from Fran, who looked away for a second, but when their eyes met again, Marla was sincere as she said, “Thank you for coming, by the way.”

Fran nodded, accepting her gratitude without making a big deal of it. This gave Marla an opportunity to study her again. Fran looked similar to what she did that night showing up to the shop after the staged attack. A ponytail holding on for dear life to wild hair that just begged to be freed, a more or less regular detective’s outfit that most likely wasn’t designed with the purpose of fitting Fran’s curves so scandalously well on every single right place. And then there was the way she simply stood in the middle of the store with immeasurable confidence. Nothing to hide behind, nothing to lean into, just her in an open space without any issue with Marla’s eyes glued to her. She wasn’t standing there like she owned the place, not exactly. It looked like she couldn’t care less about ownership, but her world consisted of only her, and she didn’t care enough about any authority to give them the power of deciding if she belonged or if she was out of place. Fran carried herself as if the rest of the world’s ideas of right or wrong were mere suggestions. Nothing sounded more appealing to Marla.

“You weren’t exactly in trouble though,” Fran contemplated, reluctantly breaking the silence, “you looked like you had it handled.”

“But you did scare him off,” Marla grinned.

“And you didn’t take the money.”

“Do I look like someone that would have taken the money?”

Fran laughed, because they both knew the answer to that question very well. She walked forward until she could lean her arms on the infamous counter, not quite in front of Marla, just a little to the side. “Maybe you should have,” she finally mused, “this might be bigger than you, gorgeous.”

This development in their interactions came with considerable consequences for Marla, who had underestimated the effect it would have on her to have Fran again standing so close to her. She wouldn’t back down though, she wouldn’t lose her higher ground, but she couldn’t deny the fact that Fran shook her to her core in a magnitude previously unknown to Marla. She couldn���t come up with a reasonable answer until it was obviously too late, so she stayed silent, picked up her pen, and after taking a drag she left it on the counter. This seemed to spark Fran’s attention, who had previously been content to just study Marla’s face from up close and during the daylight.

“So, are you going to offer me one of these,” the brunette wondered, lightly tapping with her fingertip the tip of the pen standing between them, “or a coffee… a drink… should you at least walk me to my car?”

“I will… walk you to your car,” Marla decided, after a quick and not exactly pleasant assessment of the situation. There was nothing she’d love more than to take Fran’s hand and either lead her out of that damned store or guide her to the other side of the locked door of her office. But there were already smoke signals in the air between them that she couldn’t ignore. This could be dangerous, this was possibly great, this was certainly bigger than either of them was accustomed to. Marla was stunned by the undeniable fact that she wasn’t sure how to handle Fran, and equally as unsettled but no less excited about the fact that she had no idea how Fran would handle her. She had no doubt they could handle each other, but until she felt completely confident in a perfect plan of action, she would have to see for how long and how much she could feed this ferocious and inexplicable fire that was burning between them.

As they approached Fran’s vehicle, Marla made two statements. “I will not take the money,” she said, followed by, “and that’s not a car.”

Fran winked, “My mistake.” She leaned back on the motorcycle and focused her attention on the blonde in front of her.

“I’m taking that asshole to court,” Marla managed to say, despite that unexpected and entirely alluring image of Fran standing just like that. She should have known that even the safest option among all that the brunette had offered would still come with a trick to test Marla’s hesitant boundaries.

“For something you did?”

“I’ll have to close either way,” Marla rolled her eyes, “He took me out of business. I have to take something from him. Something big.”

Fran tilted her head. “Do you have experience in court?” she wondered.

“I’m confident I can manage,” Marla smiled.

“Of course,” the other woman chuckled. “Though,” she added, “if only you had… an acquaintance, who happened to be knowledgeable in the shady alleyways of court and would be willing to give you a hand.”

Fran was barely done with her word when suddenly Marla was almost on top of her. Marla had moved quickly and swiftly, standing impossibly close to Fran, somehow not touching, but if any of them were to so much as breathe a little harder than usual their bodies would meet in all the right places. Which was maybe the reason Fran was suddenly holding her breath. Marla had placed both hands on the bike, on either side of Fran’s hips, trapping her in place, while holding her face just inches away from the other woman.

“What do you want,” Marla slowly asked, “Fran?”

“Why do you assume I want something?”

Being softly hit with Fran’s breath on her cheek was an unexpected consequence of Marla’s plan, but she held her ground. Very deliberately, one of her hands moved slowly and confidently to one of the back pockets of Fran’s pants. The brunette, to her credit, her only reaction was a noticeable clench of her jaw, but she stood still while Marla pulled out her phone and mercifully stepped away to let both of them breathe a little easier.

“Unlock it, I’ll save my number,” Marla held out Fran’s own phone for her and proceeded to follow through with her words. 

Fran got her heart rate almost back to normal as she watched Marla quickly tap the screen, and deciding the only right thing to possibly say at that moment was to answer Marla’s question, she said, “Give me a percentage of the money you’ll make with the lawsuit. So I can finally quit the police.”

Beyond pleased with that answer, Marla bit her lip for a moment then returned the phone. “And here I thought you were just trying to have dinner with me,” she said to Fran right before walking away from her, but not before looking back just in time to catch the other woman staring, and adding a final smile she threw over her shoulder, “See you soon, Fran.”

[five-hxrgreeves]

I Won’t Back Down - Five Hargreeves x OC

Word Count: 1,385

You can stand me up at the gates of hell But I won't back down I'm gonna stand my ground Won't be turned around And I'll keep this world from dragging me down

1 | 2 | 3 |

Pt. 2- The Last 6 Days Until Apocalypse II, 2019

The next few days passed much the same as they always did. School was indeterminable boredom and after was a blur of time. It was nights that Lola really lived for. She wasn’t sure why but the dark, mysterious blackness that covered everything was so much more intriguing than the bright daylight. It helped spur her mind into its most aggressive thinking, it sped her heart up as she made her daily route to the large, unused library, it made her eyes strain to the best of their ability to see outlines in the blackness.

Now, don’t get her wrong- she was a fan of the light. She needed it to write, to see distinctly, but the quiet calm that came with the night was something so few people experienced in a world of billions that it made it more special to her. She didn’t think she’d ever like complete blackness, though.

The dark of night allowed her some cover as she slipped quietly into the Umbrella Academy’s library, her feet soft and quiet on the wooden floor. By now, she knew the layout by heart and made her way easily to the last place she’d taken books from and zipped open her bag carefully, extracting both volumes. While they hadn’t been extremely interesting, she’d liked learning from them as much as all the other books she’d borrowed from the library.

Lola quietly slid out the next two. One was a thick, bound leather book and she could feel the embossed gold on the cover as she slid it gently into her bag. The books on the shelf fell with a muted thump as the space became available and she winced but no one came, as usual. She moved to the next one, which was slimmer and a regular hardcover, its contents remaining a mystery until she could read them in the light.

After zipping her bag back up, she crept back down the stairs and made her way towards her usual escape except- she bumped into a soft-bodied figure and nearly screamed.

“Who-who’s there?” a light, airy voice called out, “are you a ghost?”

Her pulse picked up and Lola’s voice came out in a stutter as she said, “y-yes. O-of course,” then, feeling the need to be more ghost-like, she gave a fake, quiet moan, “wwoooohhh, my spirit is restless,” she sang in whisper.

A hand gently hit her face and brushed up and down as if petting her, “there, there, ghostie. Don’t bother me now.”

She leaned away from the man’s touch and scrambled for what to do next, but then the man seemed to freeze, “why’re you solid, ghost?”

“Uh- I’m special?” she tried, wincing at the lame answer. Luckily, the man seemed accept this and nodded, “okay, well, don’t follow me to bed. I’m open to many things but ghost sex is stretching it,” he gave an exaggerated shudder and stumbled past her, clumsily patting her on the shoulder.

Lola’s face burned bright red and she was glad it was too dark to see. After he left, she hastily made her way to the open window and slipped out, breathing a sigh of relief when her feet landed on the grass. His kids must have come back for the funeral, she thought as she made her way home. He’d spoken about ghosts, so it- it must’ve been The Séance.

She hoped he wouldn’t tell his siblings what had happened- that wouldn’t bode well for her. Luckily, he hadn’t seen her face and he also hadn’t seemed to be completely there, so he probably wouldn’t remember.

--

After school on Friday found Lola walking down the main street towards her father’s store. Now that it was the weekend, she didn’t need to be picked up and hurried home from school so she could start her homework. The local bookstore caught her eye and her father’s words echoed in her ears about the Hargreeves’ autobiography.

The bell jingled as she entered the shop and a female assistant made her way to the dark-haired girl to greet her, “good afternoon! Is there anything in particular you need help finding today?”

Lola gave her a smile and nodded, “yes, actually. I’m looking for an autobiography. Its, um, by someone of the last name Hargreeves.”

The woman’s smile flickered for a moment before broadening, “of course, right this way! We’ve moved them towards the back now that they’re not popular sellers. I think we still have a few copies, though.”

Sure enough, in the back of the non-fiction section the name Hargreeves stood out like a sore thumb, at least in Lola’s opinion. The book was titled Extra-Ordinary: My Life as Number Seven. The brunette slid a copy off the shelf and turned it over to read the summary on the back. There seemed to be a surprising amount about the woman’s- Vanya’s- family contained in the book.

“Will that be all?” the attendant asked.

She gave a nod, “yes, thank you.”

“Alright, dear, I can check you out at the counter.”

Lola followed the employee back to the front and made her purchase using her saved-up allowance money. Most of it was used for notebooks, writing utensils or additional book-buying so she had enough saved to purchase Vanya’s book. After leaving the shop, she made her way to the local diner, Griddy’s, texting her uncle of her change of plans.

Once there, she sat at the bar where an elderly woman came to greet her, “hello, dear, what can I get for you?”

Lola eyed the treats behind the counter thoughtfully, “classic glazed, please, Agnes,” she added her name after reading the woman’s tag.

“Of course, one moment,” Agnes said cheerfully and turned to complete her order.

She set the doughnut down in front of the girl, “if you need anything else just give a holler.”

Lola nodded in thanks and cracked open her new book, eager to read a professional autobiography. While she had studied some for research it had been awhile since she’d seriously read one.

My name is Vanya Hargreeves and this is my story it started out and the brunette smiled slightly at the similar openings. Pulling her pencil from behind her ear, she jotted down a note in the margin before continuing.

We were never a real family. We were our father’s creation, family in name, but not in fact. In the end, after our brother Ben had died, there was really nothing connecting us. We were just strangers living under the same roof, destined to be alone, starved for attention, damaged by our upbringing, and haunted by what might-have-been. We all wanted to be loved by a man incapable of giving love. Our father never missed the opportunity to remind me that I was ordinary, a hard thing for a little girl to hear. If you’re raised to believe that nothing about you is special, if the benchmark is extraordinary, what do you do if you’re not?

Lola sat at the counter as minutes slipped passed, slowly eating away at her doughnut and reading Vanya’s book, occasionally scribbling between the lines as she wrote notes for herself. As she read, she realized she liked Vanya’s writing style. The woman didn’t write daily stories and chronicle her life as if everything was significant but she also didn’t write the major events like they were items on a grocery list to be ticked off once they were written. Instead, she wrote in a way that made the objective viewer feel as if they were actually there, experiencing Vanya’s life. The brunette supposed that this is why the book lost popularity; some of the moments were too raw, too painful, to want to go back and reread and live through again.

Sometime later, her phone buzzed in her pocket, causing her to jump in surprise. The book lay before her more than half-read, pages wrinkled and dirty from pencil smudges and sugar from her sticky fingers as she’d turned the pages, hardly looking like a newly-bought book. Reaching into her pocket, the girl checked her text which was her uncle wondering where she was. Looking outside in surprise, she realized the sun was setting.

“Shit,” she breathed, hurriedly packing up her things. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get too much of an earful.

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Librarian [Namjoon x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list 

Warnings: Daddy Kink, wolf in heat, creampie, etc 

Genre: Smut 

Werewolf:  Kook - Tae - Jimin

Summary:  you should write a fic where joon is a librarian and at first he is all dorky and shy but behind closed doors he's a total daddy 😳😍❤

WC: 5.7k

A/N: I started this at 9 pm. It’s past 3 in the morning. Christ almighty fml i didn’t expect it to be this long nor did I expect to be writing werewolf smut 

He strolled in around the corner of the back desk. His white shirt tightening around his muscles as the end was tucked into his dress pants. He wore his hair up with gel and thick black frames around his eye. One hand was stuffed in his pocket while the other held a book. Namjoon was ready to start teaching his first-class about the library as he was extremely excited. 

Everyone knew there was a new faculty member in the building, but they didn’t exactly know what he looked like. It had been a while since this girl’s academy got someone knew. To hear that it was a male, the whispers started. They all seemed to stop when he stood in front of the class. 

“Hello, my name is Kim Namjoon,” he starts looking at the class filled with girls who were all over themselves over the new librarian. “It’s a pleasure to be your librarian this school year.” It was then that every single girl’s mission was to get under the sheets with the new hottie. 

»»————-　★　————-««

This was your senior year, and all you wanted was to get the fuck out of there. You went to an all-girls academy simply because your parents didn’t want you to go to the public school just a few blocks from your house. So, you drove for half an hour to deal with girls who most of them thought they were better than everyone around. 

While your parents were hunters, you were a hunter in training. What does a hunter mean? A hunter is a person who hunts supernatural beings. Anywhere from demons to werewolves. You grew up most of your life traveling around the country, fighting monsters with your parents. When you got old enough, they settled down in a small town. 

Which was mostly filled with supernatural beings, but they weren’t harmful. Most of your friends didn’t believe that any of these things existed, and that was how you were going to keep it. But it was soon going to change once they found out that their librarian, was in fact, a werewolf. 

Mr.Kim Namjoon was the talk of the entire school. Every girl wanted to get with him and the friends he tagged along with. Namjoon was old enough to be someone’s brother, but most, if not all, the girls didn’t care. Instead, when he walked in on his first-class, every single phone was blowing up. Talking about how handsome in his tight shirt, he looked, how his ass was perky enough that they could stop staring, and everything else in between. 

Your friend Leana was all over that shit when it was happening. You were politely trying to stay away from such topics. You could tell Namjoon was a werewolf just by how he acted around other girls. On top of that, his pack couldn’t stay away from him. Meaning, he must have been the leader. Starting your senior year was just as crazy as when you started your freshman year. Only this time, it was filled with werewolves and stupid girls who drooled over them. 

You soon learned that the babies of his pack were just regular teens. Park Jimin was the eldest, Kim Taehyung, the middle, and Jeon Jungkook, the youngest. There were three others above him, as you heard from Leana, but you weren’t going to ask for names. Instead, you were simply listening through the grapevine. 

Park Jimin and Taehyung were around your age as Jungkook was just a little younger. You already knew Taehyung had mated because of how he acted on school campus. They mainly came when their classes were over and spent most of their time in the library. 

You kept an eye on them at all times, which brought some attention your way. Especially when Jimin found himself bouncing towards you one afternoon. Your head was stuck in one of your books your mother told you to read on. She was hunting ghouls with your father down in Florida and needed as much information as possible. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here?” Park Jimin pipes giving a small grin. You glance up at him, noticing that the ring around his eyes wasn’t golden. Thank god, because if he lustful, you would probably have to stab him or something. 

“Reading about the supernatural.” You mumble flipping a page in your book. Jimin’s eyebrow furrowed for a second, curious as to why you were reading such a thing. You minded your own business as you continued to read. Taking notes down for your mother. 

“Don’t bother her, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung calls from the front desk, where Namjoon was scanning a few books. Your eyes crept over the spine to watch the interaction the two where having. Taehyung seemed just a little antsy being around this many girls. You could tell that he was itching to get out of here, considering that he already mated. He even looked down at his phone to see if his mate would text him or not. 

“You should shut up,” Jungkook pipes up, taking a bite of his cookie. 

“How many times have I told you not to eat in the library?” Namjoon jabs narrowing his eyes at the smaller one. Jungkook simply shrugs his shoulders and goes back to eating the rather large sweet. Jimin seemed unbothered by this all and turned his attention back towards you. 

“You know it’s not real, right?” he lies. This was the first time you were pleasantly surprised. You set your book down on your lap, eyes moving back towards his. You gave him a kind smile, one you’d typically wouldn’t give to people who bothered you. Even though your mother told you to never admit to anyone you were a hunter, you couldn’t pass this opportunity up.   

“Just like the fangs you pretend to hide aren’t real.” You muse, noticing his jaw drop. Namjoon’s head snapped almost immediately, and he found himself right in front of you. His eyes were dark, and his muscles tensed. Maybe you should have said something different if this was the reaction you were going to receive... 

Looking at him closely, you had to admit, Namjoon was pretty attractive for a werewolf. The way his body was tall and muscular, fluffy hair, and pale skin. His dark eyes and dimples stood out to you the most. But the idea he held himself now, kind of terrified you. You hadn’t been this close to a wolf in years, and frankly, you wanted to run as fast as you possibly could. Maybe if your mother were here, then you could feel slightly calmer, but this was just too much. 

“Mr.Kim,” You start clearing your throat as you sat there with as much confidence as you possibly could. 

“Ms.L/n,” he says, his jaw coming forwards. A small tick that he seemed to have when concentrating. 

“Is there something you need?” 

“How did you know?” 

“What?” 

“You know what I’m talking about.” he pauses to look around to see if anyone was paying them any attention. You took a deep breath in and then out as you were closing your book. You noticed all eyes were on you, and now you couldn’t run away from it. Then you reached down into your backpack and pulled out a knife your mother gave you. 

“I’m a hunter, okay?” You managed, slipping it back in. Then quickly stating without trying to cause any panic. “I’m not investing your pack. Jesus, I’m just trying to live a regular life while my parents go out and hunt. Unless you do something wrong, well, I’ll be the one to end you.” 

»»————-　★　————-««

Months had passed since you learned that they werewolves. Or more so, confirming your already growing suspicion about them. You and Mr.Kim were playing roles like you never knew that the other could kill if need be. However, he seemed more protective around the three whenever they came to visit. That didn’t stop you from talking to them, or them talking to you. 

Namjoon was an overall caring guy. He mentioned dropped out of college when the boys were starting their junior year. Which meant he was just a little older than you, but you weren’t complaining. It wasn’t like he was dating you, so you were beautiful with his age. And even if you were dating, which again will never happen, you wouldn’t have a problem with it in the first place. 

You and Jimin became somewhat close to one another. You shared a lot of the same interest, and you joked around with Jungkook a lot. Especially after learning, he mated his best friend after being a heat like a cycle for almost a week. You were still curious as to what Seokjin’s reaction was to Taehyung and how he found his mate, but the others didn’t want to share. 

Even rule-abiding Namjoon wasn’t going to share what happened. Today, you were researching werewolves further as your parents were once again on a hunt. Thankfully, you had some wolves around you, so it was easy enough to ask for their help. Namjoon was the first to jump in since he knew the most, Jimin playing along as well. 

“Isn’t the full moon coming up?” You mentioned glancing at the four wolves around you. Namjoon was in the back, putting a few books away while the two youngest were glued to their phone. Jimin’s eyes perked at that small mention, and he waggled his brows in your direction. 

“What? You wanna become my mate Y/n?” he purrs a crooked smile seeming to grow out of thin air. 

“Seokjin would destroy you,” Namjoon mentioned without turning his back around. You were interested in what he was going on about, but you already assumed that mating a hunter wasn’t the best idea. 

“C’mon Joon, live a little,” Jimin mentioned shrugging his shoulders as he places his hands behind his back. You turned to look at your friend again, noticing that his eyes were darker than usual. Which could only mean that he was breaking the one rule you heard them talk about. Since the younger two had mates to help them through their time of need, it would be difficult for the others. 

Namjoon usually took a few days off when his time came. It seemed like he had found other ways to deal with it, while the others were craving human touch. At Jimin’s mention, Namjoon just shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t respond back to him, which left the curious cat purr in the back of your mind. You turned your attention back to the younger wolf, leaning forwards and asking, "What? He doesn’t go out often?” tilting your head a bit to the side. 

Jimin just shrugs his shoulders at your question. Namjoon tenses when you mentioned him, but he doesn’t do anything else. Instead, he simply minds his own business as he gets ready for tomorrow. It was the end of the week, and the full mon was starting to approach. You couldn’t remember if it was supposed to be tonight or the next night. 

“For as long as I’ve known Joonie,” he says, smiling at the little nickname. “I’ve never seen him have fun outside of the pack.” 

In reality, Namjoon had “fun.” For the most part, the pack usually didn’t notice it because they were enjoying one another. Outside of the pack, his life was pretty dull. He went to work every single day, hung out with some of his acquaintances, read a lot of books, and genuinely enjoyed your company. When the full moon came, Namjoon locked himself in his apartment and sweated the rut away. Jimin’s definition of fun was utterly different from Namjoon’s, and he wasn’t going to correct him. 

You noticed the small tint in his eye once again, and you didn’t say anything at all. Instead, you assumed that he was probably going to find a way to get through his own cycle. When you turned to look at the younger two, it seemed like they were already gone. Due to how jumpy they were from the beginning, you could only assume they both ran to their mates. 

Jimin started to tap away at the table before stretching and pushing his chair back. “I should probably start to get ready for tonight,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head. You scrunched your brows together but didn’t ask him anything. Because Jimin brought a hand up to his mouth and shook his head. It seemed like he wasn’t going to answer whatever question was burning at the back of your mind. 

“Ah, let me finish up a few things, and I’ll take you home,” Namjoon mentions pushing a few of the books to the side and finally grabs a small jacket. He places it in the folds of his arms, then turns to look at you. “Well, Ms.L/n,” 

“Namjoon,” you said, pushing your chair out. “I’ve asked you to call me by my first name,” you said, shaking your head. 

“I apologize, but I’m simply trying to be a proper gentleman,” he answered, flashing you a smile. That’s when you knew, if you continued down this path, you wouldn’t make it out alive....or even single at best. The way his dimples showed, and his eyes creased, had your heart already pounding for him. 

“Proper my ass,” Jimin grumbles, then grunts when he yearns a huge thump to the back of his head. Jimin complains, rubbing the end of his head, then pushes the doors to the library open. You quickly follow after him, hiding your flushed face from the wolf you told yourself you weren’t going to fall for. 

»»————-　★　————-««

Namjoon paces back and forth in his apartment. It had been two weeks, and it hasn’t passed at all. He still had to deal with Jimin and his dumbass idea to mark a vampire, while also trying to figure out what he was going to do with himself. None of his other tricks were working, and he couldn’t only find a female wolf to release himself into. 

He was only in his sweats, and his hair was all over the place. Some of it was sticking to the side as beads of sweat dripped down. His phone was already blowing up with text messages from the pack, trying to figure out where he was. He had to call in and make up some bullshit lie to get him some weeks off. He just started a new job, and this was the bullshit he was receiving only five months into working?! 

Namjoon growls low as he pushes some of his things off the counter. He slams his fist into the marble, cracking it just a little as he does so. These entire two weeks have been hell for him because your face kept popping up at random times. The fact that he was attracted to one of his students, who was just a little younger than him, and all he could think about was you, was completely insane. Namjoon could get fired if he tried anything with you, and hell, he didn’t want to be known as the librarian who fucked one of his students. 

But his wolf had other ideas. His wolf wanted to take you on all fours, with his hands wrapped around your neck. He wanted to see your face covered in his seed, your pretty voice begging for more. God, his wolf wanted to demolish you, and all Namjoon wanted was a healthy relationship with you. He didn’t want to make things awkward because he was two years older than you. Nor did he want to get fired from a job he worked hard on receiving. 

There was a faint knock at the door, and Namjoon could only think of Seokjin coming to check on him. He leans against the counter dragging his nails through his hair. Loudly, Namjoon calls out to Seokjin, telling him to go away. He didn’t want anyone to bother him because he was going to figure out what was going on. 

“Actually, it’s Y/n,” your voice came from behind the door. “Jimin kind of told me where you lived and said maybe I could help you...?” Namjoon’s head instantly popped up from where he stood. He turns around, glancing at the door and shaking his head. His wolf demanded that he opened the door and took what he was yearning for. 

“Since when does Jimin know what’s best for me?” Namjoon mumbles under his breath as he was pacing back and forth once again. “You know the repercussions here, right?” Namjoon questions as he wasn’t even considering opening that door. He didn’t know what was going to happen if he did or not. From in front of the door, you leaned against it. Then you placed a hand on the handle, groaning as you did so. 

“Of course I do,” you answered honestly. “I’m a senior in high school, and you just started working there. Hell, you’re two years older than me and could instantly get fired.” you continued licking your lips. “Plus, I’m a hunter, so that doesn’t mix well with being a wolf,” you added in laughing at that last part, but it was silent on the other end. 

So much for trying to lighten the mood Y/n. You rolled your eyes as the thought passed your mind. Namjoon had barely known you, and even if he did know anything about you, it was surface-level things. Yes, your small acquaintance turned into somewhat of a friendship, but you viewed him as the sweet librarian in your school. 

You were still a senior, and hell, he could lose his job. But, you wanted to help him more than anything. Honestly, it didn’t really excuse the fact that he was still an employee getting with you. Under the law, you were a legal adult. You could make decisions for yourself, but most people don’t consider that part. The school board certainly wouldn’t believe that part when discussing what to do with his job. 

What you didn’t expect was for Namjoon to move closer. You heard the unlocking of the apartment door, and you instantly moved back. You watched as he slowly opened the door, wholly shirtless and sweating. You noticed how golden his eyes were, due to how long it was going to be. You gulped hard, your cheeks flushing a bright red. 

“I don’t think you understand the full intensity of this Y/n,” he whispers, his knuckles turning bright white due to how hard he was grasping the doorknob. You noticed that if he held on any harder, then he could potentially break it. Maybe even - 

“You mean to tell me that you might mark me?” You ask, scrunching your eyebrows together as he didn’t say anything back. Just simply turned his head to the side and proceeded not to look in your direction. You watched with curiosity at how he held himself. Namjoon, a college drop out, your librarian, someone who seemed to have himself put together, was now acting like a teenage boy. You chuckled at the thought of it, but it was soon replaced but his harsh stare. 

Namjoon glanced back and forth, then reached out to take your hand. He moves you in, slams the door and presses his back against it. You looked at his body once again. Noticing with every small movement, some muscles twitched and moved as well. You had to admit, you were smitten entirely for this man. Or was it his body? 

Or was that your hormones speaking? You couldn’t really decide, considering you were in a trance. It seemed like Namjoon was doing a rather great job of holding himself together. You wanted to applaud him for working so hard. But then, you saw his eye twitching. You gulped, biting your lower lip, a habit in which you needed to grow out of as soon as possible. 

“Are you really just here to help me?” he questions again. You noticed that the gears were starting to turn, and you couldn’t help but nod your head. 

“Yeah, Jimin mentioned that you were in a heat like cycle. I figured maybe if -” you paused again then cleared your throat as you were getting your words together. “I know there’s a lot of risks that go into it, but if it helps you pass it then...I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?” 

Namjoon looks back, wets his lips and walks over. He stands in front of you, his tall frame making you feel small. You took a sharp breath, watching as he leans down to cup your cheek in his palm. Without warning, he does the same to the other and pulls your face close. Kissing you with such a gentle touch, you almost forgot he was ----. 

When he pulled back, you were about to say something. However, you were out of breath and found yourself panting too much. Only for him to take you once again, this time losing any sort of control. Namjoon held your cheeks tight in his grasp, making sure you were close. Then one hand drops and presses itself the back of your waist. 

Pushing you as close as you could get. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, and where they landed, you were mortified with yourself. Right at the brim of his sweats as you curled the fabric in your fingers. Namjoon noticed this right away and pulled back. You couldn’t tell if his cheeks were flushed from the heat or if they were from the kiss. 

“What're your hands doing down there, Y/n?” he muses, bringing his head forward to rest against your forehead. 

“I..” 

“You just can’t wait, can you?” he questions, pushing his waist into your grasp. You wanted to say that it was an accident because clearly, you didn’t know what the hell you were doing. Instead, he simply took this and used it against you. Namjoon brings his hands down to yours, merely pressing them together. He then moves one of yours down in between his legs. 

You flushed at how hard he felt under the fabric. This was totally wrong in every sense, but you couldn’t help but feel like a rebel. The rational part of your brain was telling you to stop it, but the irrational part was screaming at you to continue. Then Jimin’s words rang from the other day “You should live a little.” 

“No, I can’t,” You boldly mention looking back up at Namjoon. At first, he was taken back by the confidence you showed, but it quickly faded. He leaned back, still pressing your hand against his cock. 

“Well, I’m sorry to say, but bad girls don’t get the sweet reward of my cock,” he mentions. Now, this was a surprise to you. Who knew Namjoon would have a daddy kink, considering how sweet and gentleman like he was at the academy. 

So you played along with it. “And what do bad girls get, daddy?” this earns a growl from Namjoon. His actions only furthered your point while you took a step back. You placed your hands behind your back and stood tall. Looking at him as you were waiting for his answer. 

“A spanking.” he snarls, reaching back out to grab you by your elbow. He drags you to the nearest piece of furniture. Proceeds to sit down, then swing you over his knee. Namjoon’s hand moved up the back of your calf and across your thigh. Bringing to the nape of your ass. There, he curls his fingers around the muscle, molding it and playing. 

Since you were wearing a skirt, it was much easier to gain access. When you least expected it, Namjoon smacked your ass. With the force of the hit, your body moved against his lap. Your nails raked into his sweats, trying to find something to grasp. 

What surprised both of you was the moan you let out. You more than anything else was taken back by how much you enjoyed this. Namjoon simply tucked that thought away and continued to smack your ass. With each hit, you felt his length twitch against your stomach. 

“T-ah!” You cried, not even getting the number out. Namjoon wanted you to count how many times he spanked you, and you were already messing it up. He had reached twenty, and it was like you forgot how to count. Your throat was already getting somewhat dry, between the moaning and the counting, as your ass felt like it was on fire. 

But the whole point of it all was that you were enjoying yourself. This wasn’t much of a punishment as it was a turn on. It made you want Namjoon more and more each time he smacked his hand against your ass. 

“I didn’t hear you, sweetheart,” he purrs, smacking you again. 

“Twenty!” You cried bowing your head as your hips subconsciously moved themselves up. Sticking your ass more in his line of vision. 

“What a pretty bitch we have here,” Namjoon purrs, smoothing his hand across your ass. “You come to my apartment, sweet and innocent,” pausing as he gives a light tap, which sent a small whimper escaping through your lips. “Only to turn out to be a complete and utter slut on the inside.” 

You could only nod in response since the words weren’t coming to you. Namjoon huffed at such, rolling you over, then set you up. He quickly maneuvers your body, spreading your legs, so they were pressed against his. While your now dripping core was pressing against his twitching dick. Namjoon places two large hands on your waist, his own starting to roll against you. 

The small friction was enough to send sparks throughout your body. He wasn’t even touching you directly in between your legs, and you were already moaning. “I’d never thought I’d meet such a submissive bitch,” he muses, leaning inwards to press a small kiss on the nape of your neck. “I quite enjoy it.” 

“I..I do to daddy..” you whisper this earning you a nice smack to your ass. Once again, with the force of it, your body moves forward. Your hands were bracing the couch behind Namjoon as your chest press against his. He chuckles at your little accident and simply rubs your ass once more. 

His hips never do stop, even as he basically dry humps you. Your body bouncing up now, as his eyes were watching your breasts. Then, he grumbles a few sentences under his breath and rips your shirt open. You gasp, watching him easily tear through the fabric and yank your bra off afterward. He takes your breast in like he was an animal. No pun intended. 

His teeth rank against your nipple, then against your skin. He leaves large love bites all over as if there was no tomorrow. Namjoon took one breast in hand and locked eye contact with you. He was sucking on your nipple, rolling the hard nub around his tongue. 

Then give the same treatment to the other. He was heightening your senses more, watching you completely melt under his eye. When Namjoon pulls away, a string of saliva connected you two together. He swipes his tongue, disconnecting it and then moving to stand you up. 

“Can you do daddy a favor?” he questions, spreading his arms across the back of his couch. You were so stimulated the words instantly fell from your mouth. He grins, patting the side of your leg as he asks you to go into the kitchen. There, a bottle of lube would be hidden in one of the drawers. At first, you were beyond curious as to why he had a bottle of lube in his kitchen. 

But you weren’t going to question anything. Instead, you did as you were told and went straight into the kitchen. You started to panic as you realized he only spanked you and fondled with your breast. You weren’t at all prepared for him in any way, and you had no idea how huge he was going to be in the end. As you walked back, Namjoon still had his sweats on and was sitting in the position you left him. 

He told to hand over the lube, and you did so. You watched as he lathered his fingers up and set it down next to him. He pulled you in by the belt of your skirt, then moved his other hand in. After pushing your underwear to the side, Namjoon inserts two fingers inside. Your knees buckle at the feeling of his index and middle scissoring themselves inside. 

He fingers you like this, eventually moving his thumb up to press against your clit. Eyes still locked on yours as he was giving you as much pleasure as he wanted. You weren’t even close to your orgasm when Namjoon pulled his fingers out.

“H-Have I been good enough yet, daddy?” Your question, your hands coming down to your skirt and unzipping at the side. You didn’t want him to wreck this piece, because you didn’t know what you would go home in. Namjoon watches you strip for him, and his mouth gaped slightly. 

Since it seemed like he was out of commission, you decided to throw something his way. You got down on your knees, spread his legs, and reached inwards. There, you took the hem of his sweats and pulled them down. Namjoon wasn’t wearing anything underneath, so when you saw his length, you gasp. He was large, thick, and his tip angry red. 

You licked your lips slowly, noting that beads of precum streamed down the sides. Namjoon was still in a state of shock when you lean in and grasp him. He groaned at the touch, then seemingly snapping out of it reached forwards to grab your hair. He stopped you, shaking his head and then removing your hand. You sat back on your knees, watching him grab the bottle. 

In a few seconds, you were sitting on his lap again. Namjoon’s hands gripped your waist tightly, then looked back up at you. “There’s no going back, sweetheart,” he says, watching you closely as you glanced in between his cock and his gaze. 

Not another word came from your mouth because you were already lifting yourself off his lap. Then position yourself, so you were hovering right above him. Namjooned reaches in between your bodies, nods his head and watches you lower yourself. 

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe it was because of the amount of lube he used on you, but whatever it was, you felt like you were in heaven. The way his length stretched your walls, his thickness filling you to the brim. “Daddy,” you mewled, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” he says in response, then smacks your ass. It was your cue to start moving, even as you were slowly adjusting yourself. Your body bounces against his, this new sensation you’d never felt before. Namjoon helps you by holding your waist tightly, moving you along with his own hip thrusts. 

Namjoon moves his head in, planting open-mouthed kisses along your skin. He digs his nails into your waist, the pain of it, causing you to moan louder. You reach in between, your fingers moving slowly against your clit. Namjoon noticed, however, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Instead, he wanted you to experience the long drawn out orgasm. 

Because Namjoon was too sensitive and you were overstimulated, you both felt your ends starting to creep up on you. This caused Namjoon to flip you over onto the couch and plant his hands on either side. He digs his nails into your waist, pushing you back against him as his thrusts became harder and faster. He was fucking you into the couch as the animal inside took over. 

Making sure he was hitting your sensitive nerve endings over and over again. This brought your moans into cries as you were praising him with every bit of sound. Your fingers move quickly as you could feel your own end getting closer and closer. You closed your eyes, allowing your body to ride the wave, that was until a sharp pain erupted. 

What Namjoon didn’t realize was he took one of your breasts in hand. Moving it up to his mouth as his canines sunk deep into your flesh. Breaking the first layer and ultimately marking you. In doing so, your orgasm hit you like a wave as you felt your walls clenching around him. 

Then you felt his seed erupt inside. Filling your core to the brim with his essence as he held his grip on your breast. You panted harshly, watching as Namjoon pulls away from you, blinks a few times, and then pulls himself out. 

“Shit shit shit,” he grumbles, scurrying to grab his sweats as he was now back to his senses. You lay down, chest still rising and falling, but processing everything. You did not just have sex with your librarian, who marked and came inside you, did you? 

“I’m on birth control..” you start rolling yourself over and glancing at the tattered fabric you called your favorite shirt. “I think I’m more worried about you marking me than anything else.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Namjoon answers glancing back in your direction. You looked down before glancing upwards. Only to notice that he was still rock hard, and his eyes were still golden. This piqued your interest as you were sexually interested in everything he had to offer. 

“Maybe we can discuss that after you fuck me again alpha,” you purr positioning yourself in an erotic pose. Namjoon stops his pacing and glances at you once more. His eyes go straight for the mark on your right breast, then to your ass. He gulps as now his instincts were taking over. Namjoon was drawn to you, everything about you. 

He walks over, bending down, so he was eye level. Then proceeds to say, “I don’t really like the term alpha. It doesn’t suit me,” smirking as he finishes. “You know what to call me, sweetheart.” 

[mysteryartisticwriter]

The Siren // Jack Kline X Reader

A/N: I really wish they did more with sirens because they were some of my favorite monsters and mine would honestly take the form of Tom Holland lmfao. I got this amazing request so I hope you guys enjoy!

TAKES PLACE MIDDLE OF SEASON 13 (CAS IS ALIVE AND JACK IS WITH THEM)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: Yes // hello there! so you remember sirens that could take the form of your perfect guy or whatever? do you think you could write something where me and the boys are hunting a siren and it takes the form of jack?? if you cant then it’s completely fine! thx!!

Warnings: Blood, dead ugly body, almost killing the jackaboy

Not my gif!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

-

The hunt was supposed to be quick and painless. Nothing to worry about. A siren had gone loose in a town in Wyoming so the five of you went to go after it.

You’ve only encountered a siren once before and it was not pretty. The victim almost sliced you in half because of it, but luckily Sam managed to finish it off.

This time, it was not so easy. The last victim was already dead so the boys sent you out as bait to lure in the monster, much to Jack’s dismay.

“I don’t understand why (Y/n) must act as bait. Can’t we just use another method?” Jack asked.

Dean sighed. “Listen kid, (Y/n) willingly chose to be bait. It isn’t gonna take long so just calm down.”

“It’s okay, Jack.” You smiled to him. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

Hesitantly, your best friend went along with it.

The plan was that you would head into a bar and wait there for an attractive person to approach you, that being the siren, then you would lure it out to an alleyway so the boys could kill it.

It was going pretty well so far. The bar was filled with several people but no one (besides a couple of dudes) had come up to you yet. You sighed as you downed your third shot of the night.

You took out your phone and began to text the boys - who waited outside - that the siren was probably not even at the bar. The whole night practically being a waste.

But a tap on your shoulder got your attention so you turned to find Jack standing there.

“Hello (Y/n).” He had his regular cute smile.

“Jack? What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be waiting with the guys outside?” You asked him, confused.

Jack just lightly chuckled.

“I was but...I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Wait for what?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you but I didn’t want to say it in front of the others.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’re best friends, remember?”

“That’s what I want to change. I’m-I’m in love with you, (Y/n). I want to spent the rest of my life with you and live every single moment with you!” He confessed.

You were definitely shocked to say the least. Jack was always your best friend, someone you could always count on forever but...a part of you thought you two could always be more.

“Jack...I-I don’t even know what to say...” You trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain how you felt.

“You don’t need to say anything.”

With that, Jack leaned forward and connected your two pairs of lips together. You closed your eyes and tugged on his shirt to bring him even closer to you.

Jack surprised you by pushing his tongue into your mouth. You were startled but instantly replied back by doing the same thing to him. Your kiss only lasted for a few moments but you wanted it to last forever, you basically whined when he released your lips.

Jack chuckled. “We can do more of that after this, okay?”

You nodded, dreamily.

“But there’s one more thing left to do. And I need you to finish it before we live the rest of our lives together.” Jack’s eyes were serious.

“Anything. I’ll make sure everything is perfect for us, Jack.” You told him.

“You still need to kill the siren. Don’t worry, the others tracked him down but you need to kill it before it kills me or you.” Jack held your hands in his own. “You love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then you have to kill the siren. It’ll look just like me but don’t be fooled, it’s just the siren playing tricks on you! And if you need to, get rid of anyone who stands in the way.”

You nodded numbly at every word he was saying, your mind still wrapped around the love of your life.

“I will, Jack. I’ll kill the siren and everyone else who stands in the way of our love!”

-

Jack, Castiel and the Winchesters waited for any text to indicate that you were leaving the bar or anything of the siren.

Jack stood impatiently in his spot, worried about you.

“We shouldn’t have let her go in there alone. One of us should have stayed with her.” Jack said anxiously.

“(Y/n) can take care of herself, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” Sam tried to comfort him.

Jack was about to reply when he saw you exiting the bar. You turned into the alleyway you were supposed to lead the siren to but no one else followed. Concerned, Jack went after you and ignored the calls from his father and friends.

Once he saw you, Jack called out, “(Y/n)!”

You slowly turned around and saw Jack- or the siren as you thought.

“I was very worried about you. You were in there for almost two hours and 38 minutes so I was afraid something happened to you. Where is the siren?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, siren.” You sneered at him.

“What? I’m not the-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you lunged at Jack with your bronze dagger. You went to stab him again but he kept managing to dodge all of your attacks.

You began to grow angry and frustrated with him. You just wanted to kill it and go on with your life with Jack. But the siren/Jack was not letting you have it.

By now, the three older men had caught up to you two and Cas managed to push you away.

“Cas, what are you doing? I need to kill the siren!” You exclaimed, feeling betrayed by your friend.

“That is not the siren. You are infected by the siren’s venom. Snap out of it!”

“Oh, I’m afraid she really can’t.”

The four men turned to see the siren as Jack at the end of the alleyway. He was smirking and the real Jack growled at the imposter.

“Kill them, (Y/n). So we can finally be safe and together.” The siren said softly.

You nodded with determination and began to charge towards Cas and Jack while the two brothers took care of the siren.

You continued to try to stab and kill Jack without even realizing it. Almost coming close several times. Jack just blocked and dodged your attacks, not wanting to hurt you with his powers.

“(Y/n)! It’s me, Jack!”

“Liar! You can’t trick me!”

You slashed your knife to him again, cutting the front of his shirt. It was a big cut but luckily, there was no blood.

“Jack!” Jack turned to Dean. “We need her blood!”

Nodding to elder Winchester, Jack blocked one more knife swipe at him and captured your wrist in his hand. As much as he didn’t want to, Jack put two fingers to your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” He said as you fell back to the cement.

Castiel took your broze dagger and cut open your palm to take a good amount of your blood. He then tossed the dagger to Dean, and with Sam holding down the siren, it didn’t take long for Dean to kill the siren at last.

After he was sure it was dead, Jack set two fingers to your head again to wake you. As you came to, you held your head in your hands, a minor headache came as you tried to sit up. Jack helped you stand as your mind came back to its original haze.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked.

“Besides being a little confused, I think I’m okay.” You smiled lightly.

“The siren had infected you when it took the form of Jack. I presume you understand the rest?” Cas began to explain.

You winced a bit at the memories that came flooding back.

“At least I didn’t do too much damage on the two of you...right?”

“Welp, maybe a good dinner and some rest at the motel with be good for all of us. I’m thinking of burgers!” Dean suggested.

“You always want burgers.” Sam began to tell Dean as the two of them left the alleyway.

“I will dispose of the siren’s body. I will meet you at the motel.” Cas said, the sound of wings flying and the gross, dried up siren body was gone.

You and Jack stood together in the alleyway in silence, not really knowing what to say.

“You love me?” Jack questioned out of the blue.

You hesitated before answering. “Yes, I do. Or, at least I think I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before the siren, I was confused on how I felt towards you before I loved having as you as a best friend but I also felt something more than that. I was afraid to tell you because, well...relationships in this life aren’t exactly the greatest.”

You turned away from Jack until he took your shoulders by his hands and crashed his lips onto yours. You sunk into the kiss right away, almost just like with the siren but this time, the kiss felt different; more real.

The kiss was simple and sweet, nothing like whatever you did with the monster. You could feel almost all your worries melt away.

Jack pulled away and leaned his forehead against your own. You were grinning like crazy and your heart was bursting inside. Although you couldn’t see or feel it, Jack’s was doing the same.

“I was confused too. When you volunteered to be the bait, I was scared and new feelings came to me. I now know what those feelings are now.”

“And what are those feelings?”

You already knew the answer, but you just wanted to hear it. Jack’s piercing eyes stared back into yours.

“Love.”

-

A/N: I just randomly wrote this on the spot at almost 5am hahahaha death, saty home and safe loves!

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my Supernatural stories!

TAGGED:

@shortwinchester

@coltcas

@urlaslongasafalloutboysongtitle

@irinazatyk

@meadow-melody

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 19 - Hardlight

"Heeeello interwebs! Today on 'How Does It Work?' We will be looking at a toaster."

Varian stood inside the Hamada garage as he held up a toaster in front of a tripod that supported his smartphone.

Fred had introduced him to the concept of 'vlogs' a few days ago. Inspired, Varian had hit upon the idea of doing his own web series in his spare time. It'd give him something to do between work and school, when his friends were busy off doing superheroing things.

He still was curious about many modern inventions and how they worked, and while he could simply read about them, he learned better by doing. He also figured that other people might like to know how the things they used everyday without thinking about them worked. Ergo, the premise of his show was to take apart an appliance or other household electronic and then put it back together again.

The first video had received some moderate success. Though the majority of the comments were just simply stating how cute Ruddiger was over and over again. Apparently people got a kick out of seeing his raccoon assistant.

"Aunt Cass has like, six of these lying around, so I'm sure she won't mind this time." He added, off hand to the camera.

He had taken apart her digital clock last time because she had complained about the alarm not working right. He wanted to surprise her by fixing it. She however was none too happy to find him sitting in the midst of the wires and casing that had once been her clock. Fortunately he had managed to put it all back together again, and even fix the alarm while at it, though it now wouldn't turn off unless you held the snooze button down for a full minute. He'd have to look into that little delay later when she was no longer upset with him.

For now though Varian busied himself over the toaster. He took it apart successfully and then pieced it back together like a puzzle, all the while explaining what he was doing to the camera on his phone. It went well, right up until the end.

"As you can see this a very simple device. Eazy to fix, if need be." He stated as he began to plug the appliance in to test it out. But no sooner did he stand up to readdress the camera did the toaster start to spark and crackle before catching into flames.

"Ahh!"

Instincts took over and Varian threw a nearby tarp over the flames to smother them. Ruddiger grabbed the fire extinguisher and after fiddling with it for few seconds managed to spray the foaming stuff onto both him and the small fire.

That's when Varian heard laughter coming from behind him.

He slowly turned around, the foam still in his hair and his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Behind him stood a young girl about his age. She had short brown hair and wore a jean jacket. She was desperately trying to suppress her giggles and failing miserably at it.

But upon making eye contact she coughed away her own embarrassment and gave him a sheepish grin.

"Hi. Is Hiro home?" She waved.

Varian wiped the foam from his hair. "No, he's out at the moment."

"Oh." She said clearly disappointed but then just as soon picked the conversion back up. "I'm Megan by the way, Chief Cruz's daughter."

She held out her hand for Varian to shake which he numbly took. He muttered his name as a way of introduction.

He wasn't sure where this was going. She no doubt thought him the fool due to his earlier misfortune but she seemed eager to move on from that and made no further mention of it.

"You must be the new kid my dad was talking about." She continued. "So how are you liking America?"

"Fine."

She gave him a look that clearly stated to him that she expected more of an answer but he declined to speak further. He didn't want to put his foot in his mouth so soon after screwing up.

"Ooookaaay." She decided to change the subject. "Your raccoon is pretty cool. Did you train him to use a fire extinguisher?"

Ruddiger crawled up his back to rest upon his head as he sometimes did. His pet knew when people were talking about him.

"No, not really. He's just smart."

Megan blinked at him in surprise.

"Oh." She said again, this time having trouble comprehending how a raccoon could teach itself fire safety on its on. "Well, it's still neat that you got such a smart pet then. My dad won't let me keep any animals." She admitted wistfully. "Can..can I pet him?"

"Sure."

She reached her hand out tentatively and Ruddiger reached his head up to meet her hand in kind. She giggled again in delight as she began to pet the wild creature with more confidence.

While engaged in this activity Varian saw Hiro and Baymax fly in. Hiro pulled his helmet off and then froze in terror at the sight of Megan. He quickly turned around and started pushing Baymax the other way, hoping to get away before the girl noticed that they were there.

"Did you hear something?" Megan paused and started to turn around.

"No!" Varian quickly interjected and tried to turn her attention back to him in order to give Hiro time to get away. "Uh, but Ruddiger here, loves being held. If you wanna."

Megan looked like she had just won the lottery. Her eyes widen and her mouth broke into a huge grin. Varian handed his pet over to her and she breathlessly hugged the raccoon.

"Oooh, you're so cute!" She exclaimed.

Megan was still cuddling Ruddiger when Hiro, now dressed in his regular clothes, walked in.

"Hey, Megan. How was Florida?"

"Oh, great! I almost didn't want to leave. I only came back because Father's Day is next week. Mom says 'hi' by the way."

"Oh, well, tell her I said 'hi' back."

"Do you wanna go grab a shake? I'll tell you all about the trip. You can come too if you want, Varian."  

Varian was going to politely decline the offer, he figured Hiro would rather catch up with his friend without him tagging along, but then Hiro's phone dinged, indicating that he had a text message.

Hiro read it. Of course it was an urgent call for help from the rest of the gang, but he didn't say so out loud.

"Soorrry. That was Wasabi. I..I'm suppose meet up for… our study group."

"Seriously? Even during summer?" Megan admonished.

Hiro could only shrug his shoulders in apology. "Yeeeaah, college doesn't let out during the summer, but hey, Varian isn't in the study group. Why don't you hang with him. Teach him what normal teens do for fun."

"Well I guess someone will have to since we all know you ain't normal" She teased in response.

They both broke out into snickers at that, as if sharing some private joke that Varian didn't understand.

"Alright, it's settled then. I'll see you two later, have fun." He waved goodbye and bowed out.

Varian however was left standing there wondering what the heck had just happened.

"Hmm..normal, hun?" Megan cupped her chin in thought. Then she turned to him and flashed him a sly grin. "Do you know how to skate?"

                                               -----------------------------

The skating park was a jungle of concrete and metal; deep sunken pits, tall curved edifices, piping serving as inclined rails, and even a small paved race track encircling the entire playground. All around people of various ages hurried about on seemingly any and every wheeled vehicle possible. Rollerblades like the type Varian had seen Gogo wear, another four wheeled version called rollerskates, scooters, bikes with pedals instead of motors, most with two wheels, some with three, even one with only one big wheel which looked like it'd be hard to balance on, but what really caught Varian's interest was the skateboards.

He had built something similar back home, only his was larger and he could only roll down grassy hills with it. Anything else would cause the wheels to catch on rocks or cause him to lose control on the uneven ground. There'd be no such problem here on the relatively smooth concrete.

Of course, Varian didn't have his rollingboard with him. Fortunately there was a small store that rented the various vehicles to the park's customers. He paid the man at the counter for a skateboard and the required safety gear. Megan had brought her own skates and helmet.

"I'll race you down to the bottom!" She dared him as she stood next to one of larger pits.

Varian joined her and peered over the side and for the briefest of moments he hesitated. The incline was steeper than any of the hills he had slid down and if he fell there'd be no soft grass to land on, only hard stone. That said, it wasn't as scary as the crystal slide he had ridden down on his first night here, nor was it as large as the snow drifts that he would surf down on his makeshift sled in winter.

"Your on!" He told her, accepting her challenge.

He steeled his nerves as he rolled the tip of the board to the edge and then let out a whoop of exhilaration as the ground gave way and he rolled quickly down the side, he then almost lost control when the board started to just as quickly roll back up the other side. That was new. He hopped off again once he'd reached the level ground, only stumbling a little. Megan met him soon after.

"You ok?" She asked.

"Yeah." Varian breathed and then burst into laughter. "You wanna do it again!?"

It took a little more practice but soon Varian was riding the skateboard with ease. It controlled similarly to his old invention. In fact, due to its smaller size he found he could maneuver it even better than he had the other. Though he wasn't quite at the skill level where he could do tricks like some of the other kids he saw.

It didn't matter though. He and Megan had fun just rolling around the park, alternating between racing one another or chasing each other in a sort of 'follow the leader' type game, usually Megan led.

After a couple of hours though, the time on his rental was up and he and Megan had to leave. Varian would have to buy himself his own skateboard at some point. He bet the rest of his friends would love it here, particularly Gogo.

                                              -----------------------------

Varian and Megan made they're way back home walking through downtown. They had missed the bus and so decided to walk to the next trolley stop instead. They were probably halfway there when the sky began to suddenly turn gray.

"Brrr" Megan shivered and hugged her jacket close around her. "Is it just me or did it get just get a lot colder all of a sudden."

Varian could only shrug in response. He hadn't felt anything but he was already wearing his big frock coat anyways. He probably didn't need it, but he thought it made him look cool and he desperately wanted to impress the girl after having made a fool of himself earlier that day. Not that she had really noticed.

"So how was your first day as a 'normal teen'?" She gently teased. "Cause I know you don't get a chance to just have fun and be a kid at that nerd school you and Hiro go to."

"Is that all 'normal kids' do? Play?"

"Well, when you're not at school or doing chores that is, but regular school is different from college."

"I wouldn't know." Varian admitted reluctantly. "Never been to any other school besides SFIT. Also chores took up most of the day where I'm from and there wasn't many kids around my age."

Megan stilled. Her father had told her about Varian. About how he came from a harsher country and had escaped to America for a better life. She didn't know any of the details, other than the fact that Varian was now staying with Hiro and his aunt. Her dad had warned her not to bring the subject up, but here was Varian volunteering to talk about his past anyways and Megan didn't know how to respond.

She didn't get a chance to say anything though, as a whole bunch of people suddenly started to run towards them, and then right past them. The crowd was clearly scared of something. Some were screaming in fright as they all tried to run away. Though Megan couldn't figure out from what.

Varian grabbed her hand and pulled them both out of the way as the torrent of frighten people pushed their way past. Together they huddled under a yawning of a doorway, watching the scene in confusion. Then Megan spotted a familiar figure in the sky.

"We gotta go." She warned Varian.

"Why?"

"I just saw Big Hero Six fly by. That means there's trouble that way. We better follow the crowd and leave or take shelter someplace." She tugged at his arm trying to get him to come with her, but he only looked at her in confusion.

"But they're the good guys right? They're there to help people."

"No, they're vigilantes." Megan snapped back. "Where ever they go some crackpot shows up trying to start a fight. It'll be a huge mess. We're better off just going now."

Once again she pulled on his coat sleeve but he didn't budge.

"You mean they might get hurt?" He asked with worry in his voice.

"I don't know, maybe. Someone sure will if they're dumb enough to stick around." She was starting to get annoyed, but she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Look you're new here, I get it. You probably don't have superheroes where you're from. But trust me, we should just let the police handle it and stay out of the way. Now come on, pleeease." She begged again.

Varian bit his lip in thought as if coming to a decision, and then finally to Megan's relief, he nodded his head in agreement. He took her hand again so as not to get separated in the crowd and they started to make their way back towards the park.

The hadn't gone maybe a few steps when they heard a booming voice coming from the behind them. It was projected by some sort of loudspeaker and distorted to disguise the person's real voice.

"Big Hero Six! Face me, Hardlight, in a battle of skill! If you dare!"

They turned to see who was speaking and was greeted by the sight of a masked figure flying upon a glowing pink saucer. He wore armour not unlike BH6's own, but the seams of it also glowed with a dim light same as his mode of transport. He continued on with his challenge.

"The prize? Why, Chief Office Cruz here."

He laughed maniacally as he move his hand upward and a glowing cage made of the pink light followed his movement as if he was controlling it with his very thoughts. Inside the cage was Officer Cruz who pushed against his prison walls unable to escape.

"Dad!" Megan cried out in fear.

Varian looked at her and the sight of her tears rolling down her cheeks forced him to make a very rash and possibly dangerous decision. To her shock, he turned around and ran directly towards the flying figures.

                                              -----------------------------

Varian neared the battle and ducked behind a mailbox for cover. In the sky and on the ground the superpowered beings fought one another. His friends going up against monsters made of light with Chief Cruz caught in the middle. On the other side of the street stood cop cars creating a barricade while the rest of the police also huddled for cover. A few were helping some straggling pedestrians but they were hopelessly outmatched by the villain, Hardlight, who hovered over everything as if surveying a game.

He appeared to be untouchable. Even Varian's friends were having difficulty trying to fight him one on one as he sent hordes of his artificial minions after them instead and there wasn't anything the police could do. Not without risking their commander who was now in the line of fire.

For all the world it looked like some mythic battle out of a fantasy storybook. But Varian knew better. There was no magic in this world. Everything ran off science. His friends powers came from their inventions and no doubt the supervillain was a scientist as well. Which meant that as soon as Varian could figure out how Hardlight's inventions worked then he could start figuring out the villain's weaknesses.

Though Varian currently was at a lost as to what that might be. He was no physical fighter and was every bit as out classed as the police were at the moment.

Soon he heard footsteps near and he looked to see Megan joining his side. She was shaking with fear and desperately trying to gulp back her tears, but she wouldn't leave his nor, more importantly, her father's side. He understood all to well.

"What are you thinking!?" She hissed under her breath.

"You know I keep getting asked that question a lot lately." He replied dryly and then whispered back to her. "I'm thinking that this dude has got to have a weakness and he doesn't know that we're here. So we figure out what that weakness is and help take him out while he's distracted with Hir-... with the heroes. Thereby freeing your dad."

Megan looked at him, unsure of this plan.

"Oookay, and that weakness might beee…?"

"Uh… give me a minute." Varian scanned the city street again and then dodged out the way quickly as a large hunk of metal sailed past. One of the larger light creatures had picked up a police car and hurled it across the street at the heroes. Varian's heart thudded in chest loudly as he saw the damage. What the heck was he thinking?

He saw Megan crouched down on her knees beside him, her arms around her head trying to shield herself from the flying debris and the heat of the explosion from the car that was now on fire.

He should probably just get her out of there. That was most likely the best way he could help.

But then he paused. Heat!? Cold!? Megan had said it had gotten unusually cold right before Hardlight had shown up and indeed his breath was fogging in the air. The rest of the gang must not have noticed because they were busy fighting in heavy armour.

"Hard light!" Varian exclaimed finally piecing together the clues.

"Wha…" Megam tentatively looked up at him confused.

"That's why he calls himself Hardlight! Because he's using super cooled photons to turn light into solid matter!"

Megan continued to look at him as if he was crazy.

"We touched upon it in physics class." He explained. "Supposedly the science is only theoretical, but it looks like this guy has cracked the code. That cloud must be filled with rubidium and he must be using some sort of projector to shoot lasers into the chilled air.

Megan still looked lost. "Lasers? So it's literally just a light show?"

"Yeah." More debris flew past. "A deadly light show." He gulped.

He braved himself to take another look at the ongoing fight. He peered around the mailbox and saw Hardlight punching commands into his gauntlets. They must have held the device that controlled the projectors. In fact the lights on his suit may have been projectors themselves, looping the connection. He tried to follow one of the particle beams of regular light that flickered against the cloud, a byproduct of the more deadly 'solid light.'

His eyes landed upon a window in a building across the street that flickered off and on. He then looked on the opposite side and saw a similar window in another building parallel to the first.

"There!" He pointed."And over there. We'll have to make our way across and shut down the projectors inside."

"Wait!"

He turned and found Megan clutching his coat sleeve with both hands. Her eyes darted about in fear.

Varian sighed.

She wasn't use to this. Megan was, as she put it, a normal kid. She hadn't been through what Varian had been through nor what Hiro had been through. She had never had to fight for anything before and Varian hoped she'd never would.

He rested a hand upon her shoulder to calm her.

"Look, it's ok." He said gently, trying to come across as calm himself. Which he wasn't, but she didn't need to know that. "You don't have to come. Just wait here where it's safe and I'll do it."

She searched his eyes questioningly, not sure if she should let him go. So he added,"I'll get your father back. I promise."

Varian didn't make promises lightly. He knew how important they were and how devastating a broken one could really be. Once said, he meant it.

She thought for a moment, took a steading breath, and then gently removed his hand from her shoulder.

"No." She looked up at him with determination in her eyes. "I'm coming with you. Just tell me what to do."

"Alright." Varian agreed. "Then follow me and stick close."

Varian weaved and dodged and ducked through the littered sidewalks, behind various debris, and down abandon doorways. Carefully he and Megan made their way across the battlefield staying out of sight. Fortunately, Varian had had a lot of practice with sneaking around back during his time on the lam. The action came back to him instinctively.

They made it by without being noticed and Varian stopped at the building closest to them, diving into the open doorway.

"Ok, so you know what you're looking for?" He asked Megan.

"A big projector, on the top floor. Just either shut it down or unplug it." She repeated his instructions.

"Good." He nodded "Then I'll leave you to it. I'm going make my way to other end of the street and do the same. If we take both projectors out at the same time he'll hopefully be too surprised to recover. You sure you'll be alright on your own."

"Hmm-hmm. You just be careful out there." She ordered back at him.

Varian flashed her a smile that he hoped look more confident then he felt and then took off back outside into the fight.

                                              -----------------------------

Megan watched him go and she didn't dare move until she saw him make it across the street safely. Once he ducked into the other building, she turned and started to make her way to the top floor.

Just her luck she would befriend a crazy a person, she thought as she started to climb the stairs.

She found the room with the projector easily. What wasn't so easy was the fact the thing appeared to have no off switch. It also wasn't plugged into the wall but was hooked to a mini generator instead. She pulled and tugged at the thick hose like cord that connect the two to no avail.

She huffed in frustration.

Varian was super smart and no doubt was already hot wiring the one on his end. She however would have to find more unconventional means of shutting the device down.

She looked around the room and spotted a heavy looking crowbar near the door.

Perfect.

She took the tool and began to smash the the projector to pieces.

                                              -----------------------------

Varian cut the last wire using the piece of amber that he always kept with him. It was his most valued possession next to Ruddiger. The only time he didn't have it on him was when he was experimenting with it instead.

It was unbreakable and the point was as sharp as any knife, so it sliced through the machine's inner parts easily.

The light in the projector flickered and died.

He got up and hurried to the window to see what was happening.

The cage was gone. Fred a had caught Cruz and was cradling the chief of police in his monster like arms. The officer looked out of sorts but otherwise unharmed.

Hardlight was raging and desperately fiddling with his gauntlets. He still stood upon his saucer, confirming to Varian that his suit was also a mini projector, but he had lost his light creatures and other weaponry.

Hiro and the others moved in to capture him but the villain stomped his feet in frustration and took off flying in the other direction. The dark cloud also dispersing as he retreated.

Varian looked across the street to the other window and saw Megan waving at him enthusiastically. He gave her a thumbs up to confirm that he saw her.

Then to his horror the worst thing happen.

An explosion ignited behind the girl and she was soon falling out of the hole in the wall where she and the window once stood. Varian's heart plummeted as quickly as she fell.

                                              -----------------------------

Hiro didn't know why Hardlight's gear had suddenly stopped working and he didn't care. He was just grateful that it had.

He reached his hand to his intercom to tell his team to peruse the villain before he got away, but stopped when he heard the explosion and the scream.

To his terror he saw Megan, of all people, falling from the skyscraper.

"Baymax!" He yelled but the robot was already on it. Together they flew to meet the girl before she hit the ground, angling their flight so as to catch her gently. They then flew to the top of the opposite skyscraper in order to check over her in peace.

                                              -----------------------------

Varian saw Hiro and Baymax catch Megan and nearly cried with relief. He then saw them fly over the building he was currently in. He turned and ran out of the room and headed for the roof as fast as his legs would carry him.

                                              -----------------------------

Baymax laid Megan on the roof as gently as he could. Her eyes were closed and made no acknowledgment that she was aware of what was going on.

Hiro hopped off of Baymax's back and tore off his helmet as he knelt down beside the girl.

"Megan?" He desperately called to her. "Megan!"

Baymax was in the middle of his scans so he wouldn't know what was really wrong until the robot finished, but the very fact that she was unconscious filled him with fear.

"Megan, please don't...don't do this." He begged, his voice breaking along with his heart.

Soon Varian was rushing towards them.

"How is she?" He asked in a panic.

Hiro looked up at the other boy in surprise that then quickly turned to anger.

"What happen!?" He rounded on his friend.

Varian took a step back, caught off guard by Hiro's sudden ferocity.

Megan however awoke before a fight could break out between the two.

"Megan!" Both boys called out and Hiro knelt back down beside her.

"I have completed my scans. It appears that she simply fainted. Outside of a few light bruises she should be fine."

Megan didn't feel fine. Her ears were ringing from the explosion, her body was sore, and she felt disoriented by the fall. Even Baymax's familiar voice had her confused. Where had he come from?

"Oh thank goodness." Hiro breathed and wrapped her in a hug.

She looked to Varian standing nearby, worry etched on his face, back to Hiro holding her, trying to piece together what had happened. Then she noticed what Hiro was wearing.

She pushed him away and looked over his armor as realization dawned on her. He also began to realize that his cover was blown as he watched her put two and two together.

"You're...you're Big Hero Six? And you never told me?"

Hiro gulped as she laid into him.

"All the lies! All of the excuses! Just so you can run around playing superhero!? You've been putting yourself in danger this whole time..and...and.." She was so angry she couldn't form words.

"Well, what were you doing inside that building?" Hiro asked defensively, though he knew it would do little good.

"It was Varian's idea!" She pointed accusingly at the time displaced teen. Who backed away even further as Hiro glared daggers at him. "He's the one that figured out the projectors and decided that he was going to break them….and…" She paused as another thought occurred to her. "Did you know all along!?"

Varian only stared blankly at her.

"Gah! I can't believe you! Either of you! You knew all along Hiro was out there being a vigilante. That's why you were so desperate to help."

"That's not Varian's fault." Hiro spoke up. "He had to keep our secret. He's… he's from another world. And we were the ones to find him."

Megan just looked at them both with contempt not believing this new fantastical confession.

"And why should I listen to you? Mr. ‘I've been lying for over three months now’".

"Nine." Hiro quietly corrected. He heaved  a heavy sigh. "I've been doing this since Tadashi died."

She blinked at him, taken aback by how raw his voice sounded. Hiro didn't like to talk about his brother often, the pain still too fresh in his mind.

"Look, I understand that you're mad, and I don't blame you." Hiro continued. "But I'm not going to stop. I'm doing something important. Something that no one else can do, not even your dad. Those villain's aren't just going to go away and we're the only ones equipped to handle them."

"Oh like how you 'handled' them today? When you needed mine and Varian's help. Hey, how do you explain a villain showing up right out of the blue just to challenge you? Was he always going to be there to kidnap my dad or did he only show up because of you!?"

Hiro bit his lower lip, unable to answer. Megan pressed on.

"What happens when you get hurt? Or someone you care about? What will you do then?"

"I do this so no one else does get hurt!" He yelled back at her. "I...I can't lose anyone else." He broke down.  

"Well.. Maybe we can't lose you either." She was also crying now. "I'm telling my dad. He'll stop this."

Hiro looked at her in shock. They held each other's gaze for several moments as if silently holding some sort of conversion with their eyes.

Just then several footsteps could be heard running up the stair well, shouting from below, indicating that others were about to join them on the roof.

Hiro stood up and placed his helmet back on.

"I can't stop you." He told Megan. "But please, leave Varian out if it. No one is going to believe he's from another world anyways."

"Wait, you're serious?" She asked Varian and he nodded yes.

Hiro hopped onto Baymax's back and flew away just as Chief Cruz burst through the door and ran towards his daughter.

"Megan! Oh thank heavens you're alright!" He squeezed her tightly. "What were you doing up there?" He scolded.

"It's my fault." Varian offered up." I figured out that Hardlight was using projectors and I came up with the idea of sneaking past him and breaking them."

"Also, it's my fault too," Megan jumped in before her dad could get on to him. "Varian tried to talk me out of coming along, but I insisted. I was too worry about you." She hugged her dad again before continuing on."Also, I may have shut down the projector incorrectly. That's probably why it exploded. It's...it's a good thing Big Hero Six was there to catch me." She gave Varian a wink as she said this, indicating that she had decided to keep both of their secrets.

                                              -----------------------------

Varian was getting tired of lectures. He and Megan had both received an ear full from Officer Cruz as the policeman drove Varian back to the Lucky Cat. Now Varian was sitting in the upstairs kitchen listening to another one from Aunt Cass who was pacing back and forth in agitation. And this was what, the fourth or fifth one had gotten this week?

Varian sucked in his breath and forced himself to sit through it. He tried to remind himself that the adults were only getting on to him because they were concerned for his safety and he hadn't actually done anything wrong like he did a week ago with the bot fight. Of course any insistent that he knew what he was doing or that he'd lived through worst, had only upset the grown ups even more rather than ease their fears. So he decided to just remind quite and let Aunt Cass ramble on.

Just as he was starting to zone out he caught a glimpse of Hiro sneaking past the kitchen while Aunt Cass's back was turned. The other boy was back in his regular clothes and trying his best to avoid such a lecture himself.

He didn't succeed. Aunt Cass turned around and spotted him midway through his tip-toe.

"And where were you today?" She asked accusingly.

"Uh...study group?" Hiro lied.

Aunt Cass raised an eyebrow but only said, "Well go on, this doesn't concern you and you don't need to eavesdropping."

"Yes ma'am" Hiro readily agreed and Aunt Cass turned back around to resume reprimanding her other charge.

Varian saw Hiro mouth him a wordless "thank you" before scurrying off, which Varian appreciated. It was nice to know that he'd manage to do something right for once.

                                              -----------------------------

Hiro dashed upstairs and helped Baymax into his charging station. Then he called Megan. Aunt Cass hadn't said anything to him yet about Big Hero Six and he was hoping his friend had changed her mind about telling.

"Hey Hiro. Sorry, but I can't talk." She whispered to him in a hushed voice as soon as she picked up.

Then he heard Cruz yell at her over the other end.

"Who is it?"

"It's just Hiro, dad. He wanted to know if I was alright" She yelled back.

"Okay, but make it quick, you're still grounded after all." The policeman ordered and Hiro heard footsteps and a door closing.

"Good, he's gone." Megan sighed in relief. "In case you're wondering I didn't tell him."

"I figured that." Hiro admitted and then with a pause he asked her, "Why not?"

He heard Megan heave another sigh.

"Look, today I did something really stupid and terrifying just to save someone I love. And I almost got myself killed while doing it. Yet, I also know that I would do it a second time if I had to."

Another sigh, as if she was steeling herself to admit what she had to say next.

"I still don't agree with you being a superhero, buuuut I'm not going to stop you. I guess understand now why you do it, and you're the one who needs to make the decision to quit. Not anyone else. Just promise me, no more secrets, ok?"

"Okay." Hiro agreed and then he added, "Maybe once you're un-grounded we can go get that milkshake?"

He couldn't hear Megan smile but he knew that she was anyways when she answered back, "Alright, but you're paying. Also you need to buy Varian one too. He saved everyone's butts back there, big time."

"Yeah, I'll find a way to make it up to him as well. See you, in what, two weeks?"

"Just a week. Dad won't stay mad once he sees the awesome Father's Day gift I got him. I'll see you then and I'll want a double fudge swirl."

They hung up and Hiro felt as if some huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't enjoy having to blow Megan off with lame excuses anymore than she enjoyed hearing them, and he was glad now that that would no longer be an issue between them.

                                              -----------------------------

Ian Williams slammed the door to his office, trying to shut out the nagging voice of his boss. He hated Mr. Krei, he hated working at Krei Tech, but most of all he hated losing.

Ian ditched the duffle bag that held his Hardlight suit and gear into the bottom drawer of his private office cabinet. He had a special encrypted lock built into it so no one could snope around and discover his secret life as supervillain.

He was still in a rage over what had happened today. It wasn't fair. His gear had malfunctioned. Those losers must have cheated somehow. He deserved a do-over.

He closed the drawer and locked it and then went about tidying up his desk. Ian was an unassuming looking fellow. A stereotypical geek, right down to his pocket protector and thick rimmed glasses. What no one knew though, was that Ian was a thrill seeker, always looking out for a new challenge. He'd grown bored with the usual video games, mental puzzles, and high exhilaration activities like skydiving and white water rafting.

So few things combined both his high intellect and his athleticism. But taking down superheroes? Now there was a worthy test of both skill and brains. He'd be the best if he could beat Big Hero Six. He'd finally get both that adrenaline rush and the praise that he so longed for.

Just then Ian noticed a disc lying on his desk that he hadn't put there himself. There was a note attached to the case and it was addressed to him.

Dear Hardlight,

Or should I call you, Ian? Either way, this disc contains information regarding today's fight that I'm sure you will find interesting.

Sincerely,

The Boss

Ian panicked. Who knew that he was Hardlight? Who was this 'Boss'? Surely not Krei. That man never got Ian's name right, instead he'd mistakenly call him 'Ethan' or something similar. He looked around his small office but there was no other sign that anyone had been there.

Without knowing what else to do, Ian popped the disc into his computer. There was only a single video file attached. He pulled it up.

The video showed the image of a kid wearing goggles sabotaging his precious projectors. So BH6 had cheated. Well Ian would just have to even the odds for next time wouldn't he? He gave an evil grin as he took note of the boy who had ruined his plans. He'd just found his newest opponent.