#like for sure I’ll be there over the winter break but like still

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I’m really out here making so many promises let’s see how many I can keep

[loveinhawkins]

There’s a table in the school library that’s nestled in the corner, right by a radiator; Steve has claimed it ever since his double block of ‘private study periods’ began.

Not that he’s planning on doing any studying: it’s the last day of school before the winter break, and while his face has healed up from the whole Billy Hargrove Incident, he still finds himself feeling wiped at random—like his body’s having a delayed adrenaline crash ever since he pulled Dustin out of that freaky vine-infested tunnel.

So really, this spot should be ideal for a couple hours of not having to think.

And it would be perfect, if his eyes weren’t instinctively drawn to movement at the front desk.

Because for the past god-knows-how-long, Eddie Munson has been in a back-and-forth with the librarian.

It had started when he ambled up to the desk with a healthy pile of books in his hands, placed them down neatly, all ready to be stamped. Flashed a charming smile.

Steve was too far away to hear the words, but he got the gist that whatever the librarian had said amounted to no, absolutely not, because Eddie scooped the books back up, dumped them on a table a little distance away from Steve’s, then hemmed and hawed before returning to the desk with a more modest pile than before.

He was sent away again with presumably the same refusal, and so the pattern repeated until this very minute: he’s returning with just one book in his hands, his smile less charming now, more desperate.

But… no luck.

Eddie slouches back to the table in defeat. Just stands there, staring down at the books.

And goddamn it, Steve thinks, now he’s invested.

“Hey. Munson,” he says in an undertone. “What’s up?”

He doesn’t miss the weird kind of double take Eddie gives him, but at least Steve knows it’s not because of his face being a mess this time—seriously, drawing looks from students when all he wanted was to get in line for crappy cafeteria pizza had not been fun.

“Nothing,” Eddie says with a shrug, and he flashes another wide smile that makes Steve think bullshit. “Apparently I racked up a mountain of late fees. Who knew?” He sighs, glancing at his wristwatch. “Guess I’ve got enough time to just read the—oh. Um. Hey?”

“These books?” Steve confirms, having already stood up to look at them.

Eddie blinks a few times. “Yeah, these—uh, Harrington, what the fuck do you think you’re—?”

Steve heads over to the front desk with the books. It’s not all that difficult of a decision to make; he remembers Tommy H had his own library late fees in freshman year, but got nothing more than a simpering, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, sweetie,” just because his mom knew someone on the school board.

“For checking out, please,” Steve says, not bothering with a smile as he hands over his library card.

The only resistance he gets is a raised eyebrow from the librarian before all the books are stamped.

“What the fuck,” Eddie says, voice flat; he doesn’t take the books when Steve tries to give them to him, so Steve just shrugs and goes back to his seat, sets the books pointedly on the edge of the table.

“Look, man, it’s up to you, but I’m not gonna take them. They’ll just be sitting here.”

Eddie huffs. He goes over to the books, his hand twitching towards them before drawing back, like he’s at war with himself.

“You—you didn’t have to do that,” he gets out as if it physically pains him to do so.

Prickly, Steve thinks.

“It’s no big deal,” he says. “My account’s gathering dust, so someone might as well get the good of it.”

At hearing that, Eddie looks a little less defensive. He chews on his lips for a few seconds, then says, his tone serious, “Harrington, I’ll—I’ll forget. Like, with the holidays… like, I guarantee you, even if I write a million fucking reminders, I’m gonna take these books and forget to bring ‘em back for months.”

“Oh, no,” Steve says dryly, “lemme go alert the press, I just heard a blatant confession to a crime. Dude, just take them, what do I care if your homework takes you months to—”

“It’s not even for school,” Eddie interrupts through gritted teeth, “it’s dumb, it’s just—”

“Jesus Christ. Lemme call the press again, sounds like you’re reading a book for fun.”

Eddie stares at him. Steve raises an eyebrow in challenge—he could do this all day; just the other week, he’d beaten Mike in a brutal staring contest that felt like it went on for hours.

Eddie breaks first. “Fine,” he says with another huff, but he’s less agitated when handling the books—lingers thoughtfully on their titles, puts a couple in his backpack. The rest he opens at seemingly random parts, but it looks like he knows what he’s searching for.

And then it seems as if he’s just going to pick up the remaining books and walk away—Steve expects him to, honestly—but he ends up staying where he is, gives Steve a look of consideration, almost like he’s a book worth reading, too.

“You stole my table, you know?” Eddie says.

“Uh, no,” Steve says automatically, then adds with more confidence, “I was definitely here first.”

Eddie snorts. “Nope. My senior year, uh,” he shrugs self-deprecatingly, “the first time around. That was my spot. Was pretty possessive over it too, think I signed the table, like, underneath.”

Steve’s eyebrows rise in interest; he runs a finger along the underside of the table and soon feels it: an E.M scratched into the wood.

“Huh,” he says. “Guess you’re right.”

A pause.

And then Steve surprises himself.

“There’s, um, room here, if you want? I’m not gonna use the whole table.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. There’s a long enough silence in which Steve considers just telling him to forget about it, but then—

Eddie sits down opposite him.

It’s not as awkward as Steve was expecting: Eddie seems focused enough on his books, on bringing out a battered looking journal with sheets of paper that look like they’re hanging on by a thread. He roots around his backpack some more, retrieves a ballpoint pen with a quiet, triumphant, “Aha!”

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve isn’t even making an attempt to look busy; his own side of the table is bare.

“Didn’t know you were left-handed,” Steve says after a moment.

Eddie looks up from his note-taking. He smirks, waggles his eyebrows briefly. “Fitting, huh? Spooky.”

“Oh, I’m terrified.”

And Eddie actually laughs—hushed, but it still counts as one.

He soon returns to being absorbed in whatever it is he’s writing, which means Steve has less of a distraction when the familiar wave of tiredness washes over him.

He tries to sit up as well as he can, conscious of the fact that he’s not alone, but the radiator is the perfect temperature, and the steady scratch of Eddie’s pen has a soporific effect. He’s distantly aware of the fact that his head is nodding down with dwindling energy to try and stop it—hears Eddie’s voice, as if from very far away, rising in question.

Steve sniffs sharply, jerks his head back up and blinks hard. “What?”

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and he sounds genuine. “Didn’t know you were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve says.

“Uh, okay,” Eddie says. His lips twitch. “That was an awfully long blink then, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve retorts mildly. He stretches slightly, hides a yawn behind his hand. “Did you actually want something or—”

“Nah, wasn’t important.”

Steve frowns, unconvinced. The side of Eddie’s left hand is covered in ink, and Steve can see where his pen has started to die on him as his writing gets more faded across the page.

Steve puts a hand in his pocket, brings out another ballpoint and throws it at Eddie.

The pen bounces along the table, and Eddie manages to catch it one-handed.

“Good catch,” Steve says.

“Thanks,” Eddie says. He sounds almost uncertain.

Silence falls. It only takes another minute or two of hearing Eddie writing away for Steve’s determination to stay awake to waver again. He slumps forward with a mumbled, “M’just gonna…” and lays his head down.

Eddie stops writing.

“Hey, man, are you… okay? Like, if you feel… if you wanna go home I could take you to the nurse? Or—”

“I’m fine,” Steve says into his folded arms. “S’just… the aftermath of… stuff. No big deal.”

“Oh?” Eddie says tentatively.

Steve lifts his head up a bit, squints dubiously. “C’mon, Munson. You must’ve heard the rumour mill.”

Billy Hargrove had spread it all over the school, how he had ‘taught King Steve a lesson.’ In all honesty, Steve hadn’t cared all that much about how he himself came across in whatever story Billy created, was just relieved that at least Max and Lucas’s names had been kept out of it.

“I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Eddie says carefully. “Folks can say… all kindsa things.”

Steve nods faintly. Fair point.

“Okay, but you can take a little bit of stock in this one. Like, a smidge.”

Steve demonstrates with his thumb and forefinger.

It’s only when Eddie doesn’t smile in response that Steve realises he’d been hoping to make him laugh again. Maybe.

“Huh. Well. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Steve says tiredly.

“Harrington. I’m not stupid, y’know? That was more than a… a stupid fight after school or something. Like, I can remember what your face looked like.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve sets his head back down, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t—I just meant whatever it was, it… it went too far. Way too fucking far.”

Steve yawns again, doesn’t bother hiding it. “Yeah. Something like that.”

He’s resigning himself to the thought of waking up with a stiff neck before Eddie sighs and says, “If you’re gonna sleep, Harrington, don’t be an amateur about it.”

Steve looks up in time to see Eddie reaching underneath the table with one leg, hooking his ankle round the empty chair next to Steve and shoving it closer to him.

“Three or four’s probably the best amount for stretching out on,” Eddie says. “Uh, speaking from experience.”

Steve smiles. “Noted.”

He manoeuvres himself until he’s lying much more comfortably across the seats, using his backpack and coat as a pillow.

Frustratingly but predictably, despite his fatigue, sleep doesn’t come easily, so Steve looks underneath the table and asks, “What’re you writing about, Munson?”

He can see Eddie’s boots, how one foot is tapping away, as if in time to a song no-one else can hear.

“Um, I was just… getting inspiration for… it’s kinda like. Like a story, but—”

“Don’t hurt yourself, dude,” Steve says, “I know what a campaign is.”

The foot tapping stops.

“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Eddie says.

He sounds a bit far away again, though Steve knows that’s just in his head; he can feel his eyelids drooping.

“You’ve got…” He sighs, voice trailing off as he finishes, “No idea…”

Eddie launches into a speech; Steve can follow it well enough for a little while, Eddie rambling about the kind of decisions he thinks his players will make in the game, but eventually the words become a blur, and he drifts off just like that, into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep.

He wakes with the lightest of touches to his shoulder, a soft, “Steve?” that nevertheless makes him jolt to full alertness in a blink, reaching for a bat he doesn’t currently have.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps, almost falling back against the table. “What the hell kinda military training d’you have, Harrington?”

“Just have good reflexes,” Steve says, hopes it sounds casual enough as he breathes through his suddenly racing heart.

“Yeah, that’s one way to fucking put it. Anyway, uh. Sorry, didn’t mean to, like, startle you, but you slept right through the bell, man.”

Steve sits up; the library is empty apart from them, the librarian shooting them a not so subtle glare. And he realises that while everyone else was rushing out of school, eager for the holidays to start, Eddie must’ve stayed. Waited for him.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, quickly puts on his coat.

“God, sorry, you didn’t have to—if I’ve made you late, I’m—”

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Eddie puts his backpack strap across one shoulder. “I wasn’t in a hurry. Um, are you… like, good to drive? I can give you a ride, if—”

“I’m okay,” Steve says, struck by the consideration behind the offer. He means what he says though; he feels pleasantly refreshed. He smiles self-effacingly. “Think I need one class where I can just sleep, and then I’ll get through the day.”

Eddie gives a playful scoff. “That’s already a thing, Harrington, it’s called first period.”

They walk out of the library together, and Steve finds that it’s kind of… nice, honestly. He keeps waiting for some awkwardness to creep in again, but it never does.

“Big holiday plans?” Eddie asks, smalltalk that should be stilted, but it just sounds like he’s sincerely interested in the answer.

Steve shrugs. “Not really. Oh, I’ve got—you know the Snow Ball thing tomorrow, at the middle school? There’s this kid I know, I’m gonna give him a ride there, but—”

Steve breaks off with a fond shake of the head, knowing that there’s this kid I know doesn’t really give it justice, doesn’t say the full truth: that Dustin Henderson has somehow wormed his way into Steve’s goddamn heart forever.

“His mom’s invited me over for dinner tonight,” he continues. “Think he wants, like, a dress-rehearsal of his outfit or something, which is probably the closest he’ll ever come to admitting he’s nervous. I kinda feel for him, honestly. God, do you remember being thirteen? Everything seemed to matter so much, and most of it was just… stupid shit.”

They’ve reached the parking lot, and Eddie gives Steve a sideways look with a bemused smile.

“Woah, Harrington, we’re still in school, remember? Don’t think we’re meant to sound so world-weary yet.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah.” He gestures at Eddie’s get-up. “Bet you’ve never once cared about the stupid shit, though.”

What people think.

Eddie’s smile turns more knowing. “Shockingly, Harrington,” he says, “I didn’t come out the womb like this.”

They both hesitate; they’re at Steve’s car now, Eddie’s van parked in a space that’s further away. There’s no reason, really, for the conversation to continue any longer.

But Eddie still lingers.

“Uh, enjoy your dinner, I guess. If the… dress-rehearsal goes shit, just tell the kid it’s good luck for the real night.”

Steve laughs. “He’s in the Drama Club, so that might work, actually. Thanks, Munson.” He opens the car door as Eddie nods, starts to head off to his van. Seized by a sudden impulse, Steve calls, “Happy holidays!”

“Yeah, you too.” Eddie turns, tapping at his temple exaggeratedly. “Won’t forget about the books, I promise.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You better not,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.

He starts the car and heads for Dustin’s house, honks the horn when he drives past Eddie’s van, catches Eddie waving.

Steve thinks he quite likes the idea (regardless of whether it’ll put his library account in jeopardy), of the books finding a permanent home at Eddie’s place. Briefly imagines Eddie writing with an ink-stained hand, curled up safely in a world of his own—where the only monsters are the ones that live in between the pages.

[svuguru]

stepdad toji headcannons?

Tags: stepcest! Antis and minors DNI! I am not responsible for the content you do or do not consume! I got a bit carried away and idek if you can call these head cannons??? I’ve never written smth like thissss 😭

when your mother first introduced him to you, he was obsessed.

When he moved into your mother’s house, you were in university, but the moment winter break came, he didn’t waste a moment that could be spent staring at his sweet daughter!!

You were soooo addictive and sweet, like… despite him just being a man who entered your life one day, you were so sweet to him :(

Spoils you rottennnn (ignore how I’m canon he’s poor <3)

Well most of the time he does; Toji’s all for discipline and making sure his pretty girl stays in line and never disrespects anyone!

Still, he loves when you ask him for money to get a manicure… your nails just look so pretty :( they really compliment that pretty face of yours too

He’s kind of a creep too, but can you blame him? You’re so tempting!

Toji believes you purposely tease him, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and pink panties around the house because you’re so comfortable around your caring stepdad, he’d never be a weirdo, right?

When he sees your panties in the laundry, he has to take a moment and collect himself. He doesn’t steal them though, he just stares at them… no, really!

However one night in the shower he couldn’t stop himself from reaching down for his hard cock, aching to be touched by your smaller hands… and—well, you know..

it was that one evening when he overheard you on the phone with your college girl friend, gossiping and whatnot and it was all okay until he heard the topic of boys come about…

You talked about all the ones you found cute and your stepdad just couldn’t let you get away with that!

The moment you hung up your phone, Toji barged into your room, looking upset and unamused with you.

I’m pretty sure you know what happens next; your stepdad doesn’t even undress you, he just lifts up your skirt, rids you of your panties, and shoved your face into your mattress.

“Daddy!” You scream in shock, looking back at Toji from over your shoulder with visible confusion and surprise on your face.

“Shhh-shhhut up,” Toji groans as he unbuckles his pants and slides them down to his ankles, along with his briefs, before taking his cock in his hand and stroking it.

“What’s wrong, daddy? Did I do something? Wahh, ‘m sorry!” You cry, beginning to feel frustrated with yourself for making your stepdad upset even though you don’t know what you did.

“‘S nothing, sweetheart.” He grunts, but you know he has more to say. “My sweet girl just has a lot of nerve to talk about boys—“ and Toji lands a harsh smack on your soft ass, completely taking you by surprise. “When your step daddy’s right here? Dumb girl.”

You feel your cunt soak just from Toji’s words and actions.

“‘M sorry, didn’t mean to make you mad, daddy…” you mumble and bury your head back into your supple pillow, waiting for Toji to stuff you full of his thick cock.

“I know you didn’t,” he murmurs, “but you still did, no? Silly girl should know by now that I’m in charge.” Toji’s deep, firm voice has you clenching around nothing, your pussy throbbing and waiting for him to shove in his dick.

“I know that, daddy, I just—“ you’re cut off by your own gasp when Toji, with no warning, pushes in his cock. Immediately, you reach for your pink bedsheets, moaning into your pillows.

“Quiet.” Toji says in a stern voice. “I know you didn’t mean to make me mad, just keep quiet. If your mother finds out, you know I’ll get in big trouble, right? She’ll never let me near you again. You don’t want that, do you, baby?” And of course, you shake your head. You never want to lose your kind stepdad! “Good. Now keep quiet, just gotta fuck this lesson into you.”

[revasserium]

waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)

zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne

summary: he has never loved the winter

a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.

He has never loved the winter.

But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.

“Look! It’s snowing!”

Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —

He clears his throat.

“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.

You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.

“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”

He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.

“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.

Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”

You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.

“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.

Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.

“Alright, what do you want?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.

“What do you mean?”

He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.

“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”

He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.

“Huh?”

He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.

“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”

He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —

“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.

“Yes, really. Are you coming?”

You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.

“I’m going to choke!”

“Better that than for you to get sick again.”

He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.

“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.

“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —

“I know you.”

* * *

He has never loved the winter.

But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.

You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.

He wonders if you know.

He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.

“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.

“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.

The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.

“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”

He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.

“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.

“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Go home,” he says, his voice level.

Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.

“But… I wanted to see —”

“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.

“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.

“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”

He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.

“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.

He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.

Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.

Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —

“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.

You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.

When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.

“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.

“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.

“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.

He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”

You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.

“Because… it reminds me of you.”

lads requests r.... open lol

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[hanggarae]

꒰ SNOOPY KEYCHAIN !

↺ synopsis ; finding your lost snoopy keychain at 2 am with dokyeom

dokyeom x f!reader

“min, i’ll lose my mind please come over and help me find it” seokmin almost felt a little bad at how he had to hold back laugh while you panicked over the phone.

in his defence, it was a funny situation! how could he not find you calling him at 2 am because of your lost snoopy keychain a little amusing?

“i’m on my way sweetheart” seokmin said, voice still groggy having just woken up. he was already putting on a think hoodie to beat the cold of late winter. “don’t stress too much i’m sure we’ll find it, alright?”

you sighed, reassured because of your boyfriend’s words.

ten minutes later, you heard the notification from your phone alerting you that someone was at your door. you made sure it was your boyfriend before opening it up, giving him a quick peck before asking for his car keys.

seokmin tilted his head in confusion and you bit back the urge to coo at him while he looked like a lost puppy.

“it might’ve dropped in your car after our date today”

‘today’ told seokmin that you hadn’t slept yet, upsetting seokmin but he wouldn’t lecture you just yet he thought while handing you his keys.

he watched as you ran across the hall and to the elevator so you could get to his car outside. he watched for a few seconds before grabbing the jacket you had hung by your door and chasing after you, ushering the jacket onto you while you both waited for the elevator.

another twenty minutes later, that snoopy keychain was still nowhere in sight.

“baby, i’m starting to think it might be gone” seokmin sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stifling another yawn for the nth time.

“don’t say that!” you whined, nudging his shoulder gently, “if it’s gone i’m actually going to cry”

“it’s not the end of the world if you lost one snoopy keychain” seokmin giggled, cupping your face and using his thumb to stroke your cheek.

“it is!” you sulked, “you got me that keychain on our first date at that carnival. if i lose it that means i’m a horrible girlfriend”

seokmin looked at you for a few seconds before breaking out into another laugh. he was far too infatuated with you for his own good.

“considering i didn’t even remember that sweetheart i think that makes me an even worse boyfriend” seokmin said gently and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“shut up, you could never be a bad boyfriend” you mumbled, leaning up to press a kiss to seokmin’s lips and melting at how you could feel him smile against your own.

“i’ll get you a new keychain tomorrow, okay?”

“okay”

[ggsbooks123]

Memory Garden

peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)

summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.

warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do

———

Peeta did this.

The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.

He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.

Another yank.

He blew up District 12

“Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.

“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”

He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”

I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.

“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.

I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.

A sunset.

“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.

“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”

I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”

He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”

I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.

“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”

He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.

My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.

His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.

He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.

I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.

—

The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.

I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.

The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.

“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.

“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”

“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.

“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.

There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.

But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.

He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.

“Jude… Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.

He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.

Get out. Get out. Get out!!!

I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.

—

I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.

I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.

Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.

I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.

Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.

With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.

Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.

Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.

I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.

“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.

“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”

“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”

The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.

“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.

“I understand, but I’m not a child”

“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.

It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.

I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.

“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”

I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.

“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.

“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.

I am unfixable.

“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off

“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.

Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.

I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.

“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”

He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.

It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”

He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.

He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.

“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.

I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”

He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off

“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.

I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.

Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.

I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.

And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.

Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”

I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.

“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.

“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.

“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.

“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”

He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.

— — —

do we want a part two?!?

part two out now!

[cybsoo2]

soo-bunny

╰┈➤ synopsis — Soobin is the shy bunny you’ve recently adopted. When a storm suddenly strikes, he admits he’s scared to sleep alone. 

╰┈➤ pairing —yandere!bunny-hybrid!soobin x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 1.5k

╰┈➤ content warning — slight guilt tripping. discomfort. nothing much. bros just clingy.

Soobin sits beside you, just like he has every dinner since the day you adopted him. He’s slightly lopsided, leaning into your side with his head hiding in your hair. You both eat an easy meal, too tired from a long work day to make anything from scratch. You stuff your face with food, eager to give into exhaustion already. 

Soobin seems content just to watch you. He eats slowly, letting out a sigh every time he has to slightly shift his position in order to grab another spoonful of soup. He feels warm amongst this cold winter chill. Although, this heat isn’t from the hot meal, but rather the blush you bring to his cheeks. His whole body is burning up, he wouldn’t doubt that if you felt his forehead you’d assume he was feverish. 

Outside your comforting and cozy apartment, the rain continues to run. A storm begins to brew, shooting thunderbolts and lightning strikes from the sky. Every time the thunder sounds, Soobin jumps up from his seat. And with every blazing flash from the sky, he can feel the electricity burn through his body.  He feels the growing fear flutter in his stomach, so he puts down his spoon. Afraid to spill his sickness if he takes another bite. With his hands free, he wraps them around you. Resting his head just below your jaw. His mouth brushes against the bottom of your ear and he mumbles out a quiet question. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Huh? Where is this coming from?” You tilt your head in curious confusion.

“The storm,” He glances over at the window, a cold chill covers his body. He whips his head back to you and continues on with his sentence. “It’s too scary and I don’t want to sleep alone.” He looks down at your lap, slightly shy to be confessing his cowardice. 

The thought of snuggling up to the timid hybrid is not one you’re ever imagined. Your relationship still raw with awkward moments and clumsy conversations. Of course, it isn’t that the big bunny hasn’t clinged to your side every second of every day, but this situation feels different. Much more imitate and impulsive than you’d like. So you stall your answer by taking hold of his trembling hands. You let out a somber sigh and Soobin knows exactly what your answer will be.

He feels a rising panic rush through him. His hands grow cold and clammy. Heart thumping so fast it threatens to break through his bones. Downcast crystals cling to his eyelashes as he blinks back his tears. A sad sniffle slips past him. Already feeling exposed, he stops fighting his fear and turns to look at you. “Please…. Please, please, please. I don’t want to be alone.” 

“... Soobin, I’m not so sure I’m comfortable sleeping with you.” 

“At least let me stay in your room! Please, I’ll sleep in a chair, or even on the floor! Just don’t leave me alone.” His words are rushed, hurrying to spit out anything to make you stay. He peers up at you through his hair, waiting patiently for your reply. He can see every emotion that crosses your features, anxiety, affection, and a little bit of guilt. 

“Well, I guess that would be okay. But I can’t have you sleeping on a chair, that would be just cruel. You can help me set up the air mattress.” You stand up from your seat and direct him to follow. Instantly, he springs up and stumbles on after you. When he catches up to where you stand in front of the closet, he grabs your sleeve and slumps down against you. His head sits on your shoulder, watching you grab the mattress and a mix of blankets. 

You nudge him with your arm and he stares at you with ready eyes. “Hold this for me.” You hand him the mattress while you balance a bundle of blankets. You walk to the bedroom with the heavy weight of a certain bunny against your back. You sit criss-cross on the carpet of your bedroom. Soobin copies you, sitting so close that your knees knock into each other. While you unfold the blankets, he works on blowing up the mattress. 

When you’re both finished, you stand up and stretch. Sleep is beginning to drag you down and a small yawn escapes you. “You tired?” You rub your tired eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. Soobin only hums in response, letting you know he’s ready to go to bed because you are. “Okay, well I’m gonna get into my pajamas and brush my teeth, you should do the same.” He hums again in response and walks off to go get his sleep clothes.

When he walks back into the bedroom, he’s ready to pass out onto the pillows. Then he sees you from the corner of his eye, still washing up and getting ready to sleep, so he walks your way. He doesn’t talk, just sinks into silence. He watches you brush your teeth. Some foam drips down the side of your mouth and he’s quick to wipe it away. He kills time by toying with the stray stings of your sleep shorts. Tying and untying them, even tethering them to strings of his pajama pants.

You finish faster than he expected. Your routine only taking 9 minutes and 22 seconds in total (he counted). The two of you slowly shuffle out of the bathroom. You wander over to where you’ll rest, and crawl under the covers. Of course, this is after taking the time to untie the thread that keeps you connected. You lay down on your bed and snuggle deep into the pillow, all the while Soobin does the same. You shut your eyes and begin your search for the Sandman. 

30 minutes later and the storm still continues its terror. The night sky swims in shades of blue. Black bleeds into the room, holding everything hostage in its dark embrace. You welcome the weather into your arms. The air is just cool enough to sleep comfortably, and the rain is a relaxing melody. 

You’re seconds away from drifting off to sleep when you hear muffled noises next to you. 

“Soobin?... You okay?” Your soft spoken words instantly stop the sniffles. A stilled silence fills the room before you sit up to see him for yourself. You prop yourself up one elbow and peer across the room. He blinks back at you in the dark. The moon shines light on the tears that streak his skin. Hair pulled every which way as if he needed something to hold on to. 

At the sorry sight of him sobbing in the dark, your stubbornness seems to fade away. It only takes a simple wave of your hand, beckoning him to join you on the bed, before he’s swiftly stumbling over to you. He crawls across the bed and lays down on your left side. You let him get settled first before you lay back down. You help him with his struggle in the sheets, pulling the blankets over him and gently pushing his head onto the pillow.

When you drop down onto the bed, you keep a distance at first. However, it doesn’t last long as seconds later Soobin is impatiently tugging you towards him. He shuffles and squirms under the sheets, trying to get you as close as possible. When he settles into a pleasant position, he’s plastered up against your back. His head lays between your shoulder blades. So close you can feel the small breaths he sucks in. His body still shakes with the remenates of fear. He tightens his hold, hugging you like a teddy bear. Two arms wrap around your waist. One hand on your hip while the other frantically searches for your hand to hold. 

Your heart leaps into your throat, breath hitching at his boldness. Having a warm body to keep you company in bed is something you haven’t had in a long time. All of your senses are overloaded with information. Hyper-aware of the heat he emits, how subtly he smells of sugar, and how suffocating the silence sounds. You try to create some space between you, but Soobin lets out a muffled whine and rests more of his weight on top of you. He hooks one leg over your hip and relaxes when you stop your squirming. 

The storm still rages on well into the night. Yet, Soobin sleeps soundly with his sweet savior right by his side. He doesn’t budge when lightning burns through the black air, or even when strikes of thunder shake the building. The only sign that he’s still alive is from the way his tail twitches and he lets out a frustrated huff when you shift slightly too far. 

You don’t sleep for a single second. Too tense under his touch and heart fluttering too fast. When you wake you have no doubt that this night will never be forgotten.

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved

[mountttmase]

Where You Belong

Note - happy Sunday 🤭 this was actually a request from my lovely Sid and now you guys get to enjoy it 😂 feedback would be appreciated and I hope you enjoy this little break from winter sun

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.2k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Late training sessions were never Mason's favourite.

In an ideal world he’d be home around three, get himself tucked into bed for a little nap before having the evening to himself but today was different.

Training didn’t finish until around 8pm however Luke had invited him round for a quick dinner and a few games of fifa so he wasn’t home until around eleven and all he wanted was to get into bed and sleep his life away.

Coming home to an empty house never got easier, just like getting into a cold bed still made his tummy sink but he’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

Literally.

The one thing Mason wasn’t expecting was his phone to start ringing just as he’d slipped under the covers. Groaning slightly as he rolled over to grab his phone so he could see who wanted him at this ungodly hour but the number wasn’t saved to his contacts and he didn’t recognise it so it let it ring until it stopped to see if they’d leave a message but it was ringing again before he had a chance to think.

Mason hated answering calls from strange numbers, but it was late and the fact that they’d called again straight away made him think he really needed to pick up so with a slight huff he sat up and hit the answer button.

‘Hello?’

‘H-hi, is that Mason?’

‘’Yeah it’s me’ he answered, unsure of who was asking after him but just as he was about to moan at whoever was on the other end for calling, the voice speaking to him suddenly clicked in his brain and his breath caught in his throat. ‘Wait, y/n is that you?’

‘Um y-yeah it’s me’ he heard the voice on the other line sniff and it’s like his world had stopped. He hadn’t heard that voice in two months and he was pretty sure he’d never hear it again but there you were. Calling him from a number he didn’t recognise, sounding more upset than he’d ever heard you.

Well maybe only once before.

‘Is everything okay?’ He asked tentatively, knowing you were upset on the other end but he was unsure as to why you were getting in contact after everything that had happened a few months prior.

‘Um no, not really’ you sniffed, ‘I was at a gig and I met these people and… well long story short they took all my stuff. I’m at the police station now and they said I could call someone and yours was the only number I could remember’ you told him, feeling a little silly now as you listened to his deep breathing on the other end of the line. Gulping down a nervous lump before carrying on. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you or anything I just-‘

‘It’s alright, where are you I’ll come and get you’

‘No, it’s fine I don’t-‘

‘Y/n, I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are’ he said sternly. Getting out of bed and stuffing himself into his shoes as you told him the address of the station you were at and thankfully it was only 15 minutes away. ‘Just stay where you are, I’ll come inside’

‘Yeah cause that’ll look great. Mason Mount spotted leaving Manchester police station in the early hours, I can see the headlines now’

‘Well I can’t exactly text you I'm outside, can I?’ He reasoned. ‘And I don’t want you standing out in the cold. Don't worry I’ll put my hood up and I’ve got my sunglasses just… I won’t be long just stay where you are’

Mason was out of the door as soon as you’d hung up. Driving well over the speed limit but it was all he could do to stop his mind whirling. This wasn’t how he’d planned to see you again but you needed him and no matter what he’d always come running.

He saw you before you saw him and he took a few seconds just to look at you. You looked so small and fragile, eyes downcast as they looked to your hands in your lap and all he wanted to was to hold you. But he was unsure as to how you might react to him so in the end he took a few small steps forward in hopes you’d look up and see him.

As soon as your eyes locked onto his Mason felt like he’d been shot. The pain ripping through his chest was almost suffocating as he took you in, your bottom lip wobbling and eyes filling with tears before you launched yourself at him.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡

Mason was probably the last person you wanted to call, but beggars can’t be choosers when you’re in the situation you’re in.

You hadn’t even realised it had happened till it was done, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone to take yourself out on a solo date as your favourite band were playing nearby and you’d always wanted to see them live. Your original plan was to go with your friend Jenny, but after that no longer was an option you figured you could go on your own so you didn’t miss out but the thought terrified you.

All was going well though and you even made some new friends with the group of people who were standing next to you but you should've known when they had to rush off at the end that something wasn’t right.

You reached into your bag for your phone to grab yourself an Uber home but your bag was empty. Not just your phone missing but your keys and purse and after a few minutes of panic you made your way over to someone who was working security and tearfully told her what had happened.

You didn’t want to make too much of a fuss, and when you had to take a trip to the police station so you could give a statement your night became even worse. This isn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all but the police officer who was dealing with you kept you calm and helped you block your cards before running through some options for everything else.

When it came to making a call you knew there was only one number you’d memorised for emergencies. There should have been no reason you’d ever have to rely on anyone else but things had changed and you were desperate.

You knew he wouldn’t pick up on the first ring if it was from a random number so you called back straight away and after four rings his sleepy voice came filtering through making your eyes sting immediately. You hadn’t heard it in so long and thought you might never again but you held it together as best you could.

As soon as you started speaking you felt stupid. What were you expecting him to do? He wasn’t yours anymore and he owed you nothing but as soon as you were able to explain you could hear him shuffling about to come and get you and the relief you felt was overwhelming

The wait for him felt like a lifetime. Sat there wondering what to say or do when he got there but you were so distraught and worked up by the time he was you did the first thing you could think of and threw yourself into his body. You knew he was shocked as it took him a second to get his bearings but soon enough he was wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close to his chest.

‘It’s alright, you’re fine’ he whispered into your hair. Rubbing your back to comfort you just like he used to but it just seemed to make your tears feel faster. ‘Come on, let’s go. We’ll go sit in the car yeah?’

You let him lead you out to his car. Getting yourself settled in his passenger seat as he ran around to the drivers side and you tried your best to calm yourself but you felt a little awkward now and his sympathetic expression was making you feel worse.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, bloody fantastic. What do you think?’ You huffed, feeling awful immediately as you knew he was only looking out for you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as you felt your mood sink even further. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that’

‘No it’s alright’ he whispered, playing with his fingers in his lap.

‘No it’s not’ you told him, holding back your tears as best you could before turning to him. ‘Thank you for coming to get me’

‘That’s okay’ he smiled softly, but you just felt like crying all over again. ‘Where do you wanna go now?’

‘I don’t even know’ you laughed, not having many options right now. ‘‘Can you go to Luke’s? I gave my spare key to Anouska’ you told him, not even thinking about what you were saying, but you knew from the moment his face dropped even further he was upset by what you’d said.

‘Oh uh, yeah sure’ he mumbled. Starting the car without another word and even though you wanted to talk to him and explain you didn’t think it would help too much.

The journey was silent, Mason looking straight ahead with a hard expression and you attempted to break the silence a few times but chickened out at the very last second each time as you could tell by the tense atmosphere that no matter what you said it wouldn’t make a difference. He was pissed, you just hoped he wouldn’t take it out on them.

‘Wait here, I’ll go and get it’ he told you, pulling up to Luke’s house and getting out the door before he’d even turned the engine off and you sighed as you watched him jog up the path. You knew Mason and you knew he was holding everything in so it was only a matter of time before he let it out. You didn’t know if it would be through anger or hurt but you kept your eye on him and he stood and waited for someone to answer the door.

‘Hey mate, sorry for just turning up’ Mason told Luke quietly after he answered the door. Luke looking a little sleepy but thankfully not annoyed at his sudden arrival.

‘Don’t be silly, is everything okay? Did you forget something?’ He asked, rubbing his eyes but as soon as he got a better look at Mason his expression changed to one of concern as he waited for the younger boy to speak.

‘Yea yeah fine, no listen um- it’s a long story but I’ve got y/n in the car and I need her spare key. She said Anouska keeps one here?’

‘Oh um- let me grab her one sec’ he mumbled, nodding his head inside so Mason could stand in the doorway rather than out in the cold and soon enough Luke was following in behind his wife.

‘Mase? Is everything alright?’

‘Y/n’s had all her stuff stolen tonight. I’ve just picked her up from the police station’

‘Oh my god, is she alright?’

‘She’s fine, they took in without her knowing so she’s not hurt or anything just upset. I’m just taking her home but we can’t get in cause she’s got no keys but apparently you’ve got a spare?’

‘Oh, yeah I’ll go grab it for you’ she told you quietly, grabbing a key from the rack before handing it over and Mason just gave a nod before turning to leave.

Something stopped him in his tracks though. Turning back to face them and the broken look on his face made Anouska’s lip wobble.

‘I asked you guys where she was so many times, every time you said you had no idea but you knew along? How could you do that to me?’ He asked quietly, the hurt in his voice evident at his friend’s betrayal but they were quick to try and reassure him.

‘No it’s not like that at all Mason I promise’ Anouska started but her voice started to wobble so Luke took over.

‘We really didn’t have any idea, mate. We’ve only had the key for two weeks, She showed up out the blue and made us swear not to say anything’ Luke explained but even if it had been two weeks he was still upset about being kept in the dark.

‘I’m really sorry, Mase. She’s got no one and I was just trying to look out for her, I thought it’s what you’d want’ Anouska told him, and Mason didn’t have anything to say. Upset his closest friends had been secretly hiding you behind his back but his emotions were all over the place from everything that was going on tonight and he didn’t want to make everyone feel worse so in the end he just nodded before bidding them a farewell and sulking back to the car.

‘Don’t be mad at them, It was me who made them keep quiet’ you told him after he’d handed the key over to you but he just shrugged. Clearly not in the mood to talk about it so you let him drive away, afraid the silence might consume you.

‘Where am I going?’ He asked quietly as he neared the end of their road and you let him know you’d direct him back to your flat. It was about a half an hour drive over to the other side of town and you were thankful for the low music he played so it wouldn’t be too awkward.

Once you arrived back at your flat you thought Mason might want to leave but he came up with you. You’d moved in two weeks after your break up and had just taken the first semi acceptable place that was available. Under any normal circumstances you would have second guessed showing Mason this place but your need to have someone nearby in your hour of need outweighed the part of your brain that was embarrassed by the tiny flat you now called your own.

‘Sorry about the mess’ you told him quietly as you both walked in but he just gave you a tight but reassuring smile.

‘Don’t worry about it, you should see my bathroom right now, it’s a right state’ he laughed, thankful he seemed to be perking up a little but you hated the way he referred to it as his bathroom. He used to call it our bathroom, the one you shared before things took a turn. ‘What did the officers say happen now?’

‘There should be someone round soon to change the locks over and then they’ll call me later on tomorrow if they’ve got any updates’ you confirmed, watching him eye your living room carefully and you felt your heart sink. ‘Listen, thanks for walking me up, but you can go if you like’

‘I think it’s best I stay, just until the locks are changed at least. There’s random people walking about with your keys so I’ll stay for a bit to be safe’ he told you and his concern for you even now melted your heart just a tiny bit.

‘Take a seat then’ you told him. Nodding to the sofa in the corner before following him over to take the seat next to him. Squishing yourself into the side so your thighs didn’t touch but thankfully he seemed to be having the same idea to keep as far apart as you possibly could on the worn out sofa.

‘So you were at a gig tonight?’ He asked quietly after a few moments of silence, clearly wanting to make a bit of conversation after an hour or so of being understandably standoffish with you and you nodded whilst keeping your eyes looking forward.

‘Yeah’

‘On your own?’

‘Yeah’

‘‘It’s not like you to go out on your own’ he commented and you had to gulp down a nervous lump.

‘Well I wasn’t meant to be but my plus one couldn’t go’ you told him. Trying to be vague on purpose to avoid an awkward conversation but you felt him tense up besides you.

‘Oh’ he breathed, nodding his head solemnly but you weren’t quite sure why he’d suddenly turned so moody again and you figured you should explain a little more even if it did take you down a path you didn’t want to be going down.

‘Yeah, Jenny and I don’t talk anymore and I paid for the tickets in the first place so I sold the other one and went in my own’

‘Jenny? You were meant to go with Jenny?’ he asked, face slightly shocked but you could detect a hint of relief in there too.

‘Yeah? Why, who do you think I meant?’

‘Well I don’t know… I thought you meant like a date or something’ he told you awkwardly and even though you knew it was an easy conclusion to come to you still felt your anger rise inside of you.

‘A date? We’ve been broken up for two months, Mase. Is that what you think of me?’ You laughed, slightly in disbelief at what he seemed to be accusing you of.

Well no-‘

‘Is that what you’ve been doing?’ You asked, looking at him with furrowed brows, noticing his expression matched yours.

‘No, I didn’t-‘

A knock at the door snapped the pair of you out of your little argument. Mason standing up to go and answer if before you got a chance and from what you could hear, it sounded like the locksmith here to sort the locks out.

Mason always had the gift of the gab and you were in no mood for plesentaries so you left them to chat, thankful he was taking charge for you even if things before had just taken a weird turn and before long Mason offered him a cup of tea and he reappeared in front of you again.

‘Why don’t you go have a shower and get changed or whatever. I can deal with this’ he offered and even though the thought of being under the hot water sounded like heaven you didn’t want to leave this all up to him when it was your mess.

‘It’s fine-’

‘Please’ he interrupted, his hand gently touching your shoulder before he pulled back. ‘It’s been a long night for you and there’s no point in you being sat out here like a lemon. I’ll come and find you when it’s done, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you told him quietly. Secretly happy he was taking the responsibility away from you. ‘I’ll just be in there’ you whispered, nodding to the door in the far corner of the room and with one final small smile he stepped into your kitchen to make a cup of tea.

You let the warm water of the shower consume you. Not realising how tense you were until you tried to relax and it took more effort than you realised. Raising the temperature of the water ever so slightly try and relax yourself even further but your mind was going a mile a minute.

You couldn’t believe how tonight had gone. You were having the time of your life out of your comfort zone with some people you’d put your trust in for the night but your massive highs always seemed to be followed by massive lows lately. Still not believing you’d been so easy to exploit and that they’d taken your stuff without you even realising.

You tried holding your tears in, having not cried properly since the whole ordeal happened but now you were at home with Mason so close by you could feel your walls slipping again.

You felt silly and exposed. All the things you were protective of had been taken away from you from right under your nose and you couldn’t believe you’d let it happen. You were usually so aware of what was going on but these last few weeks and tonight especially made you realise maybe you weren’t as switched on as you thought.

Once you were done in the shower you slipped into your pjs before laying ontop of your bed. Not wanting to get fully inside right now as Mason was still here and you didn’t want to fall asleep without saying goodbye but the longer you sat in your own thoughts the more upset you became.

You could hear him laughing and chatting away outside. A sound you’d hadn’t heard much of in the last month or so of your relationship as the lair of you grew further apart and you missed it terribly. All you could think about was it being your fault things had turned out how they had and after the stress of the last few hours you felt your eyes sting again.

You were determined not to cry, hugging you pillow to your chest as you squeezed your eyes shut tight but the sobs were only moments away and when you heard your front door shut you couldn’t help but finally let things out as you realised it was just you and Mason alone again.

You’d known it this whole time but it really hit you just how much you still loved him in that moment. The fact he’d saved you in your hour of need, taken you home and taken care of what needed to be done so you could relax overwhelmed you as you weren’t sure you could be so kind if he’d treated you the same as you had him and the thought only made you even more upset knowing you may never get back to how you were.

Mason opened your door slowly, not sure if you were asleep or not and even though the room was dark he could still make out the slight shake of our shoulders as you fought to hold it together. Laying facing away from him so he couldn’t see you and the longer he stood there the louder your sobs became.

Mason was stuck, not sure if you wanted to be left alone or if maybe you needed his comfort but in the end he pushed his worries to the side and went to you. It always broke him seeing you upset and right now was no different so he carefully popped himself onto the bed behind you and pulled you body into his chest. Holding you close as you buried your head into the pillow.

‘It’s alright, sweetheart, just let it out’ he whispered, the sound of his gentle voice breaking down what little composure you had left and you let your cries eat you up from the inside. Your body shaking violently as you let go of everything you had inside of you and you even surprised yourself at his upset you were about everything.

‘Hey, come on baby it’s alright’ you heard him murmur, his own voice sounding emotional as he moved to sit up before reaching for you. Pulling you up and into his lap so he could hold you properly and you cried into his neck as he slowly rocked you back and forth whilst whispering in your ear repeatedly that everything would be okay.

He let you cry it out, not rushing you at all or making you calm down quicker than you needed to he just patiently sat and waited for you to raise your head and his devastated expression almost set you off again.

‘Please don’t cry anymore’ he whispered against your forehead before placing the softest kiss between your eyebrows. The physical affection making you want to cry all over again but you held it together.

‘I’m sorry, it’s just been a lot tonight’

‘I know,’ he agreed. Nodding his head as you attempted to wipe your eyes but the feel of his arms around your body and he held you almost like a baby kept your tears flowing silently. ‘Can I ask you something?’ He whispered after a short while. Waiting until you nodded before he carried on talking. ‘Why don’t you and Jenny speak anymore? You told me she was like a sister to you’ he asked you carefully, knowing it must have been a touchy subject but you knew you needed to be honest with him now. He deserved the truth after all you’d put him through and all he’d done for you tonight when you didn’t deserve his kindness.

‘Yeah well, I realised a few things about her’ you told him quietly. Looking up to meet Mason's eyes and the sadness in them made your lip wobble. ‘I’m so sorry’ you whispered.

‘Sorry? What are you sorry for?’

‘I let her get into my head, let her say horrible things about you. I let her get in between us and I know it’s not all her and I played my part but I shouldn’t have listened to her’ you sobbed. ‘I ruined everything’

‘Hey come on’ he breathed, his voice wobbling as he pulled you back into his chest. ‘Don’t cry anymore’

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you’

‘I know bubs’ he whispered. Kissing your temple softly as you calmed yourself back down. ‘What happened?’

What had happened?

Jenny was a bit of a sore subject for the pair of you. You’d met her a week or so after moving to Manchester all those months ago and the pair of you had become fast friends. With Mason always being busy it was easy for the pair of you to spend time together but to say she wasn’t Mason's biggest fan was an understatement.

When you first moved to Manchester, Mason was here, there and everywhere. It was lonely being so far away from everything and everyone you knew but you were determined to make the best of things so when a girl came up to you in a coffee shop to compliment your bag, you gave her a wide smile and offered her a seat rather than shying away like usual.

Jenny had lived in Manchester all her life so when you explained you hadn’t and didn’t really know anyone around here she was quick to give you her number and let you know she would be free whenever to show you her favourite spots.

She was bright and bubbly and just the right sort of person you needed in your life at the time but there was just one problem.

You could tell she was suspicious of Mason from the beginning. You tried telling her that he would be busy a lot with the new season starting in a brand new team but she couldn’t seem to get her head around why he was always away. Asking why he’s dragged you all the way up here just to ignore you and whilst you understood what it looked like from the outside, you and Mason were as strong as a rock.

That didn’t stop Jenny from trying to make you see sense though. Taking every opportunity she could to tear him down in front of you and whilst it was growing tiring she was your only friend up here and you didn’t want to lose her.

Everyday she would ask about him, wondering where he was and who he was with. Wondering why he wasn’t spending time with you and you didn’t know when, but soon enough her words started to stick. Every missed diner or unreplied to text that you used to think nothing of suddenly was sticking out to you like never before and you wondered if she was right.

It all came to head when you invited him to a dinner with some of the girls and their boyfriends and when Mason told you he wasn't available you didn’t even give him a chance to explain. Ignoring him for the rest of the day before getting dolled up for a night out without him.

‘You need to be strong, babe. Be firm with him and say it’s not acceptable. There’s not an excuse in the world that I’d accept for him not coming tonight, you don’t deserve to be treated like this’ Jenny told you. ‘You wait until you’ve found someone else, he’ll regret it then and he won’t be able to do anything about it’

You were late home on purpose, not ready to talk to him yet but to your surprise he’d waited up for you. His face full of sorrow as he tried to get your attention but you ignored him on purpose. Sleeping in the guest room before the pair of you engaged in a heated row the next morning.

You hadn't given him a chance to tell you what he was doing as you spent your time ignoring the day before but he was just as pissed as you were this morning. Furious with you for not hearing him out and telling you that the whole reason he wasn’t able to go out with you last night was because he was booked in for a charity event for children who were learning to read and speak English and he thought you were coming with him.

You tried not to let him get to you. You knew his charity work was important to him and you knew you’d agreed to go with him months ago but you’d been so wrapped up in Jenny that you’d forgotten all about it. In the end, trying to turn things onto him and making out like he hadn't reminded you or told you about it yesterday but he confessed he’d given up trying with you.

You said so many things you wished you could take back now. Things you knew weren’t true but you’d been spoon fed to believe and once again you didn’t give him a chance to say his piece properly. Ranting at him for as long as you could before locking yourself away again.

When Mason left for training you’d called Jenny, crying down the phone to her about everything that had happened and she convinced you to pack your things and get out. Even coming round to help you finish off and and drive you away so you could stay with her for a few days whilst you found a place of your own.

As soon as Mason realised what was happening he was blowing up your phone. Demanding to see you and talk things out but you refused, hanging up on him in the end before sending him a text to let him know you needed space but you were done and not to message you again before you blocked him.

Life without Mason was hard but you had Jenny by your side at all times. Constantly reminding you that you’d made the right choice and that when you were ready the pair of you would go out and find you a man that would put you first.

That was two months ago, and you’d been miserable everyday. Each moment passing making you think you’d messed up but you didn’t realise how much until two weeks ago.

‘Two weeks ago, we were out getting lunch and I popped to the loo. When I came back this girl she knew passed by and she got up to give her a hug and stuff but she left her phone face up on the table and I could see she was trying to message you on insta’ you told him. Looking up to see his face looking confused. ‘I took her phone and scrolled to the top and she’d been DMing you from the day we ended things. I think that’s the only reason she ever spoke to me was to get to you’

‘I’m sorry sweetheart’ he tutted, brushing your hair back from your face so he could place a gentle kiss on your forehead again. ‘What did you do?’

‘When she sat back down I told her my locks were getting changed the next day and if I could have my key back before pretending to take a call outside. I just went straight home and sent her a text saying I knew what she was up to and you’d never go near her in a million years’ you told him with a slight laugh, smiling as he chuckled under you before you felt him reach for his phone.

‘Find her for me?’ He asked, opening up instagram so you could pull up her profile and look at the messages she’d sent him. Even now reading them back made you skin crawl but you watched masons expression change to a disgusted one as he read the first ones through.

‘Why would she send me this shit?’ He laughed, coming out of the messages so he could go back to her profile and block her before throwing his phone to the side and looking back down at you. ‘I’m sorry she’s not who you thought she was’

‘It's fine’ you shrugged. Not caring about her or what she’d done to you anymore but the sympathetic look on his face made your heart thump. ‘Why are you being so nice to me? I was shit to you’ you asked. It only really hitting you now that you were broken up still but the way he was being so soft and loving with you made your heart race.

‘Cause I love you’ he told you seriously and you felt your whole body freeze. Loved you? Still? ‘Yeah we may not like each other a whole lot right now but I’ll always love you, y/n’ he confirmed and you felt your eyes sting.

‘I still like you’ you whispered, watching his face soften a touch, both smiling tearily as you came to the realisation things weren’t as bad as it seemed and you could have sworn you felt him hold you a little tighter.

‘I still like you, too’ he nodded, but you were overwhelmed by his kindness and felt yourself getting upset again.

‘God I’m so fucking stupid’ you laughed, nuzzling into his neck and you laughed at the way he held you slightly tighter.

‘Hey, don’t say that’

‘But I am. I walked out on you when you’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me, took some random girls side who was fucking me over the whole time and then befriending a local gang of theives’ you joked before it hit you again that all your stuff had been taken. ‘I can’t believe all my stuff’s gone’

‘It’s okay, we can replace it all’ he reassured you and your heart broke at the way he was trying to help even though there were certain things that couldn’t be replaced.

‘I know but my phone’

‘It’s just a phone love, we can get you a new one’ he told you, but that wasn’t the reason why you were so upset about it. You couldn’t care less about the actual phone itself as you knew you could get a new one whenever but it was the stuff on the phone rather than the phone itself.

‘It’s not the phone, it’s what was on it. It’s gone and I can’t replace all that’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve got years worth of pictures and memories on there, I never backed my phone up or anything so they’ve all gone. And yeah maybe I’d have to get rid of them at some point but I wasn’t ready to let them go yet. To let you go.’

‘I’m right here bubs. You can’t get rid of me that easily’ he whispered. Cradling your face as he gazed into your eyes lovingly. ‘Whatever you lost, I’ve probably still got it on my phone so when we get you a new one I can just send it all over’

‘Really?’ You sobbed, relief washing through you as you realised not everything was so hopeless so you just held him as tight as you could and breathed in his scent that you’d missed so much. ‘I don’t deserve you’

‘Look at me’ he whispered. Pulling back so you could look in each other's eyes and then softness in them made you melt. ‘You’ve stuck by me through thick and thin for years. Every game, every tournament, whatever it was you were there for me. I know I wasn’t the greatest at being there for you but I promise you I’ll try a lot harder if you’ll let me’

‘No, Mase none of this was ever your fault. I was being selfish, like even when you told me the next day why you couldn’t make it to that dinner I was still so blinded by everything Jenny had told me I didn’t care but now I can’t believe I ever acted that way’ you told him. ‘I’m sorry I let her make me think you didn’t give me enough time when I know you gave me everything you had. I’m sorry I just left without really giving us a chance to talk through things and I’m sorry I made your friends lie for me’ you whispered. ‘Please don’t be mad at them, I made them promise not to say anything’

‘Why didn’t you just come back to me’ he uttered, his voice sounding the saddest you’d heard it all night and it was close to breaking you.

‘I was ashamed’ you gulped ‘I thought you’d turn me away’

‘I wouldn’t have, I promise’ he told you tearily. ‘I had a feeling there was more to it but I’ve missed you every day, you know? Your my one and I’ve been going out of my mind not being able to get hold of you’

‘I’ve missed you too’ you sobbed, hiding away in his neck again as you held each other tightly. Mason going back to rocking you from side to side in hopes it would calm you down and soon enough your sobs turned to sniffles and you pulled back to look at him properly.

You couldn’t class the dark marks under his eyes as bags, they were more like suitcases he’d been carrying the weight of the world in. His skin pale in comparison and you knew it was because he probably wasn’t looking after himself properly in the months you’d gone but your heart thumped when you reached out to cup his jaw and he turned his head in your hand so he could kiss your palm before melting into your touch.

‘You look exhausted’ Mase. I’m so sorry for making you get up to come and get me’

‘Don’t be, I’m glad you did’

‘Will you stay tonight? Like in here with me?’ You asked quietly, hoping the pleading look in your eyes would wear him down but he was nodding straight away. Holding you closer before pulling back to look at you and the cheeky smile on his face made your heart thump as you hadn’t seen it in so long.

‘You better budge up then, what size bed is this anyway?’ He joked as he helped you off of him and you felt your face flush as you pulled back the covers.

‘It’s a small double, there’s not enough room in here for a normal sized one’ you laughed, crawling inside and you felt yourself go shy as he kicked off his shoes and joined you.

‘I’m only kidding, love.

‘You don’t have to be kind, I know it’s awful here’

‘It’s cozy’ he said softly. Apprehensively reaching for you but once he realised you were happy for him to hold you he pulled you into his chest and you felt your whole body relax.

‘It’s shit’ you laughed, nuzzling down into his chest before looking up into his kind eyes.

‘Why did you stay here then? In Manchester I mean. Thought you would have gone back to London with everyone since you’re only here because of me’

‘I guess the only one good thing about Jenny was she convinced me to stay’ you huffed. ‘It was probably just to feed me more lies about you but she said he’d look out for me up here as if I went home everyone would tell you where I am’

‘You know what, she’s probably right. I’ve been on at everyone constantly since you left but no one would tell me anything’

‘I’m so sorry’ you breathed. ‘I really am so sorry Mase but I’m here now and I promise I’ll make this right. If you still want me’

‘I’ll always want you’ he confirmed quietly. Lips falling to your forehead again so he could place a gentle kiss there and you couldn't hold in the shiver that ran down your spine. ‘And you know I’ve always got room for you. You know in our house we picked together’ he teased, tears filling your eyes and what he might be suggesting. The thought of being home too much for you to take right now. ‘First World problems but you don’t know how hard it is to be there and be reminded of you every bloody place I look’

‘Well maybe we can figure something out then’ you laughed. Excited about the prospect of being home with him where you belonged but unsure if it was too soon.

‘Just come home please, love’

‘Isn’t it too soon?

‘We both know you’ll be back sooner or later, and I’m never letting you go anywhere again so we might as well just crack on’ he joked, tucking his head into your hair as you both clung to one another. ‘Do you still work half days on Friday?’

‘I do’ you laughed, your heart leaping at the way he remembered the most random things about you.

‘Okay perfect. Pack up what you can tomorrow afternoon then and I’ll come by after training and help and then we’ll get you back home okay? Back where you belong’

‘Okay’ you whispered, too dumbfounded to say anything else but you knew when you saw his eyes flash to your lips you wanted to kiss him instantly. Thankfully his lips were already closing in on yours so you just shut your eyes and let him kiss you.

It was the softest kiss you’d ever shared. Full of nerves and caution but as you kissed him back it became one of longing and you held each other as tight as you could almost as if you were afraid the other might vanish into thin air. Only pulling back when Mason got the giggles and had to hide his face in your hair again.

‘What’s wrong?’ you laughed, trying to look at his face and as soon as he let you, you realised how blushy his cheeks were.

‘Nothing I’m just… just happy we’re back’

‘Me to’ you agreed. Letting him pull you back up for another heated kiss that you didn’t want to end. Finally feeling whole again, back where you belonged in the arms of the man who meant more to you than anyone or anything else.

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it and I’d love it if you could leave me some feedback 🩷

[vienssunshine]

I just wanna get high with my best friend

pairing: Maki Zenin x fem!reader nsfw: shotgunning, kissing cw: cheating, weed use author's note: this work is inspired by this song

You weren’t sure why Maki turned so cold when you got a boyfriend. The two of you were so close, constantly having sleepovers in your dorm rooms, training together, eating together, really doing anything and everything as long as it was together. But, that all slowed down when you started dating a male sorcerer from another school. You still saw Maki every day, but something felt off now. Every time you talked about your boyfriend, she always had something negative to say about him. Her comment “I could treat you way better than him” was especially difficult to brush off.

The tension comes to a head when you’re spending another late night in your dorm room, sharing a bed and a blunt.

You blow a cloud of smoke from your mouth and a warm haze begins to flood your bloodstream, contrasting the cold, winter air the cracked window is letting into the room. Maki always has the best stuff; you’re feeling much more relaxed now—the stress of your new relationship and Maki’s strange behavior has been weighing on you.

Your phone dings; the noise is shrill. “Oh, he texted me,” you notice.

Maki takes the blunt from your fingers, choosing to take a drag rather than respond. She leans back on one of your pillows, amber eyes lowered and not focused on anything.

You bring your phone into your lap. “He wants to go ice-skating tomorrow.”

“You hate being cold," she says.

You look up from your phone. “Well, yeah. But, I don't know, maybe ice-skating could still be fun.”

Maki huffs and rolls her eyes. “He’s an idiot.”

“Go easy on him, okay?” you smile, texting him back, “He hasn’t known me as long as you have.”

“He doesn’t know you at all,” she says, placing the joint back between her lips.

You send a text to your boyfriend: “Ice-skating sounds good.”

He responds immediately: "Ight, be there around 3.”

That’s when your training sessions are. You press your lips together; you’re certain you’ve told him that before.

You begin typing your response when Maki turns her head. “Hey, want to try something cool?”

Text message half-written, you put down your phone. “Uh, sure. What are you thinking?”

“Want to try shotgunning?” Maki asks. Her expression is far more interested after the change in subject.

You tilt your head. “What’s shotgunning?”

“Here, I’ll show you. Come closer.”

You clamber over your plush bedding and sit next to her, re-adjusting the blanket she had thrown over your legs after you opened the window.

Maki holds the blunt up and explains, “I’ll blow the smoke into your mouth and you inhale it, okay?”

You furrow your brows together. “Does that really work?”

“It does, I’ve seen it at parties.”

You shrug. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

Maki smirks and brings the blunt to her mouth, taking a deep breath in that has the end of the joint smoldering. She places her hand on your shoulder and leads you closer to her until her lips mere centimeters from yours.

Your eyes flutter shut and you open your mouth, receptive when she blows the smoke inside it. You bring the drug deep down into your lungs. It burns, but it’s pleasant at the same time.

Your head is cloudy and your body heavy when you breathe the smoke out. Everything just feels so…good.

You’re so glad you can hang out with Maki like this. Just you two. Alone. Her hand on your shoulder—she hasn’t moved it yet—feels so nice. You like her so much. Maybe more than your boyfriend.

Your lips touch. You pull back slightly. This is wrong. But, then she leans forward and her lips are on you again. It’s making your skin buzz. Wrong or not, you melt into her.

Her hand on your shoulder tightens and she brings you in closer, deepening the kiss. Your lips and tongues explore each other, minds entirely free of thoughts, only able understand the sensation of your bodies meeting each other.

She breaks the messy kiss for a moment to whispers some words into your mouth, just like she had with the smoke. “Glad you realized I’m better than him.”

You cup her face with your hands, “Yeah, you are.”

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

5.5k words

It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now. 

Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.

The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.

Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car. 

A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.

Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.

Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes. 

A piece of paper was taped to the pump.

“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.

You sighed and headed inside. 

It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.

He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat. 

“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.

“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out. 

“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.” 

“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly. 

“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged. 

“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state. 

“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.” 

“You still got to pay, love.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.

“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”

“I’m working at the camp.”

“Weldon lake, right?”

“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”

“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”

“I’ll try!”

The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already. 

You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen. 

The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back. 

“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”

You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time. 

“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”

“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.

Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone. 

“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.

The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.

“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed. 

Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side. 

“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”

He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.

“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already. 

“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled. 

“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”

“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.

Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step. 

“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”

Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body. 

“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.

“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”

“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.

“Come on, before we lose Janie.”

“He’s hot!” She defended. 

“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”

“He’s intelligent too!”

The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches. 

You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.

“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”

“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”

“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”

“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.” 

“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”

“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.” 

“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”

“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said. 

“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”

“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit. 

They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it. 

The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was. 

The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.” 

“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip. 

“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”

You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead. 

“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”

She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side. 

You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie. 

“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned. 

“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”

Johnny pouted. 

“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”

He got up and jogged off to another table of girls. 

“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”

“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Dogs can be trained.” 

You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got. 

It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films. 

The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered. 

Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails. 

“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match. 

The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls. 

You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set. 

“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin. 

“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”

“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed. 

The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots. 

There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big. 

He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.

You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.

It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain. 

“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall. 

“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”

“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”

“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country. 

“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted. 

“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs. 

You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that. 

Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.

“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie. 

You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.

“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”

You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit. 

“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin. 

You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.

“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.

There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.

“Riflery?”

“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained. 

“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder. 

The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season. 

The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe. 

It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles. 

“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self. 

“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”

“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.

“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart. 

The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water. 

“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.” 

There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.

“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together. 

The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures. 

You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way. 

There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.  

You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out. 

You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.

“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time. 

“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed. 

“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”

You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?

He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”

“Oh…yeah just blisters.”

He tutted at you. 

“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”

Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber. 

There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that. 

The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.

“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled. 

“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke. 

Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues. 

You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.

You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.

“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”

There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin. 

You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that. 

Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too. 

The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy. 

You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods. 

“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed. 

“How did you break so many bones?”

“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”

There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside. 

“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.

“Or a fox.” Sophia added. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in. 

The four of you nodded.

“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”

“By yourself?”

“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”

You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way. 

“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered. 

“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered. 

“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted. 

“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind. 

Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.

Bang!

You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach. 

“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.

“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”

“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”

“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away. 

“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”

“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now. 

“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”

There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.

“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs. 

“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”

“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”

“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.

“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”

“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped. 

“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”

“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away. 

“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.

“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie. 

“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”

“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.

“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”

Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break. 

Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently. 

“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.

“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”

“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.

“I’ll whistle.”

You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs. 

“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt. 

“Like I said. It was my job.”

You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.

You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else. 

“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open. 

“Be careful, please.”

He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.

The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.

It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.

“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open. 

You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out. 

Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face. 

“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault. 

You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t deserve this. 

You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away. 

You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.

You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again. 

Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 18

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, brief mentions of the events of Part 13, some ADA Sam, Detective John, and a cliffhanger…

Part 18: “V for Vendetta”

After that first rocky month, Dean started to improve physically, and so did you emotionally, as he tried his best to let you help him when he needed it. 

In turn, you did your best to gauge his moods; when he truly did need help, and when it was best for you to just be his girlfriend, not his caretaker.

January rolled onwards, and the resulting winter cold snap brought a kind of calm before a storm. Nick Savage still hadn’t been found, but that didn’t mean your worries were over.

Dean knew that this would hang over all of your heads until both Nick and his father were caught and exposed.

Today Dean walked with Sam on his day off, doing a few laps around the neighborhood as part of Dean’s rehab. They knew a police car was stationed nearby, watching them for their safety. It was a bit unnerving, but necessary.

They were walking back into the building when Sam stopped to check the mail. The box for their unit was along the wall in the corridor with several other locked boxes. Sam unlocked theirs and pulled out a rolled-up newspaper, some coupons, and a stray folded note addressed to Dean. Sam’s brows furrowed.

“What’s that, a love note?” Dean asked dryly. He took it from Sam and unfolded the scrap of paper.

20579. Your badge will join your dad’s on the wall.

Both the Fire Department headquarters and the 84th Precinct had a wall to commemorate firefighters and officers who had given their lives in the line of duty. Each of their badges had their own display plaque hung on the respective walls.

In short, the note was a threat.

Sam’s worried frown deepened as he watched Dean’s good mood evaporate. He crumpled up the note and pocket it, before he met his younger brother’s eyes.

“Keep this between us,” he warned. As in, don’t tell you.

Sam shook his head. “Dad needs to know, at least. And you two need to be careful.” 

“That goes for you and Eileen too,” Dean replied. He reached for Sam’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t matter that you’re an ADA. Azazel goes after cops and their families. He’s gonna be gunning for an opportunity to get to one of us.”

Sam’s lips pressed together, but he acknowledged that with a nod.

They went back upstairs together, where you were dressed casually and gathering up your purse.

“Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked. Sam shot him a glance, which Dean silently answered with a short nod. He looked back at you when you offered him a smile.

“Yep, we need a few things. Milk, eggs, more Twizzlers, apparently,” you quipped, lightly smacking his stomach. Dean quirked a smile.

“Give me a sec. I’ll go with you,” he said.

You made an uncertain sound. “Didn’t you just get back from a walk? You sure you don’t just want to shower up and relax?”

“I’m good,” said Dean. He knew you didn’t like the idea of him overexerting himself, but he didn’t feel comfortable letting you go out alone. He could tell by the look Sam once again threw his way from the kitchen that he didn’t think it was a good idea either.

Dean slid a hand up your arm. “How about this. I’ll stay in the car. I just want some more fresh air.”

You tilted your head at him, but you conceded. He followed you to the door and held it open for you.

“Can I drive?” Dean hedged.

You chuckled. “Don’t push it, Lieutenant.”

On the way back from the grocery store, you discreetly eyed Dean’s profile. His knee was bouncing as he stared out the window.

Sometimes he checked the rearview mirror of your Camaro. Sometimes he fiddled with the radio or checked his phone.

It was all nervous behavior you took a catalogue of. By the time you pulled back into the parking lot of Dean’s apartment building, he finally seemed to relax a fraction. You parked the car and turned to him. 

“Okay, what’s the matter?” you asked.

Dean gave you a curious look, but there was an unmistakable tension in his demeanor.

“What do you mean?”

You tried your question a different way. “What’s got you all on edge?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Dean,” you prodded. “Does it have something to do with why you insisted on coming with me, even though I can see that you’re tired?”

His face tightened, but he reached over for your hand. Your fingers curled around his. Now you were getting worried.

“We’ve got the police watching us here, but anything could happen out there,” Dean said. “Until this blows over, I don’t think you should go out by yourself.”

Until this blows over. You wanted to ask when that would be, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer.

“Zachariah called me this morning,” you admitted. “He’s standing in for Nick as CEO. He said I have a job waiting for me when I get off medical leave next week. Everyone’s been working from home since the fire, but we’d be going to a new building the company owns downtown.”

Dean tightened up, just like you knew he would. His eyes closed as his head tilted back against the headrest. He let out a long breath through his nose. You stayed quiet, both waiting for what he might say and preparing for him to get upset.

He surprised you by calmly looking over at you again.

“It’s not a good idea. If Nick’s still alive, it means his dad probably knows you know who he is,” he said. “And not for nothin’. Even with Nick out of there, that place’s probably been built on blood money.”

Both were fair points.

“I know. I’m going to find something else, as soon as you’re better,” you said. Dean shook his head and held your hand tighter.

“Don’t let me be an excuse,” he said. His gaze was firm and direct meeting yours. “I need you to start taking care of yourself too, all right? Please.” 

Faced with his earnestness, you couldn’t help but soften. After everything he’d done to save you, to protect you, was it fair of you to keep making him worry?

In the past, you’d felt justified. You couldn’t quit. You needed the money. You could handle it, whatever came next. You would deal with it because you had to.

But maybe this time, you didn’t have to. It wasn’t worth all this.

With that resolve, you let out a breath.

“I’m going to call Zachariah,” you said, “and tell him that I’m working from home, or I quit.”

Dean stared back at you with a measure of surprise.

“I’m not going back,” you said, squeezing his hand. “If he has a problem with that, I’ll use whatever I have left in my savings. Hopefully that’ll be enough until I find a new job.”

After a moment, Dean expelled a breath of relief. He beckoned you over, and carefully as you could over the upholstery, you leaned over and caressed his cheek before you went in for a kiss. He welcomed you, with his hands slipping up your sides and around your back, pressing you into him with a heady warmth.

He paused against your lips after a while. His forehead rested against yours.

“You don’t need to drain your savings. I can help you,” Dean started to say, but you pulled back and held your fingers to his lips.

“You’ve helped me enough. You’re already letting me live with you rent free,” you pointed out. “Let me figure out the rest.”

After a moment, Dean wordlessly agreed. He wanted to argue that you wouldn’t have had to move in with him if not for Azazel putting you in his sights, but at the same time, Dean understood that you’d been providing for yourself for a long time. He respected you for it.

So he just guided you back to him for another slow kiss.

John Winchester owned a condo approximately 20 minutes from his sons’ apartment. It was the home they’d grown up in after the house fire, over thirty years ago.

John had learned a lot since then. In fact, some might say that he’d become a paranoid bastard.

Aside from a professional alarm system, he’d installed hidden cameras inside and out of his home, and at every window. It meant that even when he was asleep, his eyes were never truly closed.

When the intruder took his first steps into John’s bedroom, the man himself was waiting with a gun cocked and loaded. The safety clicking back made a small sound, but in the silence, it might as well have been a gunshot.

The masked man swiftly turned and ducked, throwing a punch. The scuffle that followed was quick and covered by darkness.

The cameras on “Night Mode” picked up every moment.

And that was how John later showed video evidence of Alastair Rolston breaking into his condo, and subsequently getting his ass handed to him.

Both men had their fair share of bruises, but at the end of the day, Alastair was the one cuffed to a chair in the bowels of the 84th Precinct. He sat beside his court-appointed lawyer.

Meanwhile, Cas watched the scene from behind the one-way glass window of the interrogation room. Rufus Turner, their Lieutenant, was beside him, along with ADA Sam Winchester. He watched the man his father questioned very carefully. 

“Well, I think you know what this means, Mr. Rolston,” John drawled.

Alastair’s stance in the chair was relaxed, almost unfazed. He gave the detective a wry smile.

“What’s that, John?” he asked.

“I’ve got you dead to rights on attempted murder of a cop,” said John. “It ain’t a good look, my friend.”

“Don’t answer that,” said the lawyer. Alastair glanced at the man, unimpressed, to say the least.

“No fucking shit,” he replied.

“I’d say you’ve got two options,” John pressed forward. He leaned on the table between him and Alastair.

“Did Azazel…excuse me, Daniel Savage, put you up to this? You can answer that question, or I could just skip to the part where you sit in a cell for 20 to life.”

Alastair’s face gave away nothing but calculation and amusement. John nodded, with a grim smile.

“I’ll bet you set the fire at Savage & Co. Trying to get Nick to look like a victim in all this—the consequence of doing business with the likes of Azazel,” he said. “Better yet, I think you’re his favorite hitman. Clean, precise, no tracks left behind, no traces of evidence. Perfect kills. I’ll bet you consider yourself a goddamn artist.”

Alastair lifted his gaze, and John saw the familiar depths of a killer.

“I don’t like setting fires,” said Alastair.

John was nonplussed. “I’m sure you don’t.”

The other man rolled his shoulders.

“It’s all very…messy, you see. Unpredictable.” A smile graced his lips. “But I know someone who does.”

“He’ll give you his employer,” the lawyer said. “The person who ordered the hit.”

“Which hit?” John arched a brow. “I can’t be the only special one. What about Paul Richardson, Jerry Stillwell, Amanda Waller?”

The lawyer shared a look with his client. Alastair rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper in his ear. After a moment, the lawyer nodded and met John’s gaze.

“He’ll tell you what you want to know, but only for a blanket deal of immunity.”

John could’ve guessed. Alastair smiled once more and leaned back in his seat.

The detective held up a finger and exited the interrogation room. He met Sam’s gaze, and the latter already knew what his father was thinking.

"Give me a minute," Sam said. He went into the room and tried to negotiate with Alastair and his lawyer, but the man wouldn't accept a plea of 20 to 25 years, even to serve all the murders they could charge him with concurrently. Nor would he accept 15 to 20, or even Sam's best deal: 10 to 12.

Sam exited the room and hid his discouragement. He met his father's waiting gaze.

“We can’t give him immunity,” Sam said. “He’s likely the one who committed Azazel’s hits. Not just for the past six months, but for God knows how long, and how many bodies.”

“At this point, it’s the only way we’re getting a chance at Daniel Savage,” John said. “Not just finding him, but pinning him as the mastermind behind the whole operation. Drug trafficking, arson, murders…the whole thing, Sam.”

Sam didn’t like it. No one did, for that matter, but even Rufus heaved a sigh.

“You can’t move forward without a trigger finger willing to testify,” he said.

“Yeah, because hitmen make notoriously credible witnesses,” Sam retorted.

“Do think he set the fires as well?” Cas asked John. “He seemed to imply that he committed the murders, but not the arson.”

John hummed in contemplation.

“We’ll find out. But first, I want a confirmed name from the horse’s mouth,” he said, shifting his attention to Sam. “Can you get me that, son?” 

Sam’s lips pursed.

Within an hour, the paperwork was drawn and the plea deal was arranged. Father and son sat side by side on one side of the interrogation room, while Alastair and his lawyer sat on the other. Alastair finished signing the final document as the cuffs on his wrists jangled.

“All right,” said John. “Tell me what I want to know.”

Alastair smiled and spread his hands as wide as he was able.

“I’m an open book, Johnny. Ask away.”

John leaned forward.

“Let’s start with this,” he said. “Who ordered you to kill me?”

Nick Savage was unearthed from a luxury apartment in the south of France. He was extradited back the United States and hauled into a courtroom in Lawrence, Kansas for arraignment.

Sam Winchester was the prosecutor on the case. As luck would have it, one of his favorite judges was also assigned for this docket.

“What do we have here?” asked Judge Devereaux. He was a portly man, short and graying, with square black glasses that framed his perpetually surly face. The man now adjusted his glasses so he could read the slip of paper the clerk had just handed to him after reading off the docket.

The charges included four counts of murder in the first degree: the murders-for-hire, enacted by Alastair Rolston.

Followed by attempted murder in the first degree, ten counts of murder in the second degree (those who had lost their lives in the most recent building fire), conspiracy to commit murder, arson, and if that weren’t enough, a charge each of attempted sexual assault and sexual harassment.

When the last two charges were read out loud in the courtroom, Nick looked visibly angry.

Sam glanced over at the defendant with thinly veiled satisfaction. Some days, it was difficult for him to come to work.

Today was not that day.

“All right, that is a laundry list of potential misdeeds,” Judge Deveraux remarked. He looked up at Nick Savage. “How does the defendant plead?”

At the prodding of his lawyer, Amelia Richardson, Nick spoke up.

“Not guilty,” he said. Though he rolled his eyes, as if this was a waste of his time.

“What’s the deal here, Mr. Winchester?” Judge Devereaux asked.

“The primary charge is a murder-for-hire, your Honor,” Sam replied. “Mr. Savage hired a hitman to murder at least five people, and succeeded with four. He also masterminded several arsons. This includes a fire at his own company building, which claimed the lives of ten people and injured several others. This is all part of a larger connection to organized crime, which the People intend to prove in our case. Due to the nature of the charges, and the defendant clearly being a flight risk, we seek his remand to custody without bail.”

The judge raised his brows. He turned to the defendant’s lawyer.

“What about it, Miss Richardson?”

Amelia shot Sam a glance, but she replied to the judge.

“What we have here is a conflict of interest, your Honor,” she said. “Detective John Winchester has a vendetta against my client. Therefore, Mr. Winchester should recuse himself. It’s a family affair, Judge, and they have no evidence for any of these charges, except for the testimony of a confessed murderer.”

“It’s called prosecutorial discretion,” Sam cut in. “Our evidence goes beyond Mr. Rolston’s testimony and will more than support our case. I’ve also tried my father’s cases before, your Honor. This defendant is no different.”

The judge peered closer at the docket with incredulous eyes.

“Except for the fact that one of the attempted murders was on your father. John Winchester?” Judge Devereaux actually chuckled. “Oh, Mr. Savage. Many have tried and failed on that regard.”

“Judge,” Amelia tried, but Devereaux waved her off. Sam took in that small victory without giving anything away outwardly. The fact that John was on the docket as a “victim” was easily Sam’s biggest challenge in this arraignment, but he just couldn’t hand this off to another prosecutor.

“And what’re these last charges about?” the judge asked.

“Mr. Savage attempted to sexually assault one of his employees at a company Christmas party in the defendant’s home, your Honor,” Sam replied. His gaze once again cut over to Nick, who glared back at him with a sneer.

“That’s a goddamn lie!” Nick shouted.

Amelia grabbed his arm and tried to shut him up, but Nick jerked out of her grasp.

“Put a gag on your client or I will, Miss Richardson,” Devereaux warned with a deepening frown.

“Hey,” Amelia hissed a whisper, grabbing the sleeve of Nick’s suit jacket this time. “Get it together and shut your mouth. Remember where you are.”

He ignored her to try and speak to the judge himself. 

“That bitch tased me. Did she tell you that?” Nick levied Sam a look, before he turned back to Devereaux. “Yeah, she assaulted me, Judge. So that charge is fucking bogus.”

“I’ve heard quite enough!” Devereaux snapped. He raised his gavel and slammed it down loud enough for Nick to flinch. “The defendant is remanded to custody, without bail.”

It was more satisfying than John would admit.

While the development wasn’t exactly what he had expected, having Daniel Savage’s son dragged out of his new prison home to sit in another musty holding cell was the highlight of the new year.

This was the poor excuse for a man who’d given him such a headache these past few months. This was the little shit that nearly got his son killed, and who’d been terrorizing you for months, if not years.

But he would be a means to an end.

“I’ll tell ya what, Nick. You don’t look like a man that could organize a handful of murders and arsons, but here we are,” John said.

He scratched the back of his head and sat on the corner of the desk. Sam was seated across from Nick, and Cas was hanging back within the cell, watching the exchange (and watching Nick’s reactions for any tells).

On the other side sat Nick himself, dressed down in his gray prison garb. It was a far cry from the $5,000 suit he wore in the arraignment. Next to him was his lawyer, Amelia Richardson.

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” she asked. She shot Sam a glance.

They had dated in law school for a few months. It had ended abruptly when her husband returned from Afghanistan. It had been a shock to both of them, since the man had been presumed dead.

Clearly, Sam had moved on since then. He was happier with Eileen than he ever was, but he could tell that Amelia had never quite recovered from the “what could’ve been” of their relationship.

Still, Sam had set all that aside the moment he stepped into this room. He watched his father work.

“Why did you set fire to your own building?” John asked.

He’d expected Nick to be more explosive with his denials, but the man was quietly simmering, like he just wanted the questioning to be over. It reminded John of when his sons were teenagers. Maybe he hadn’t been the perfect father, but intuition was telling him something…

“You didn’t do it, did you?” John mused. “At least, not that fire.”

It was interesting, however, that Alastair had pinned the Savage & Co. fire on the son—that Nick had started it himself, along with the other arsons. Alastair had just been the muscle, committing the murders and the brandings on the victims.

John wasn’t so sure he believed that. He leaned in a bit and gave Nick a wry smile.

“Did Daddy do that one for ya?” he asked.

At that, Nick held firm. “My father has nothing to do with this.”

Hmm, a bit of familial loyalty? Maybe trying to prove himself, John detected. How far is he willing to go to protect his dad?

“So you did do it, along with the other arsons,” John said.

“Are you trying to get him to confess without a plea deal?” Amelia snarked.

“I’m trying to figure out how badly this kid wants to stay out of jail for the rest of his life,” John said.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Nick grumbled.

“If you have something for us on Daniel Savage, then we’re willing to listen,” Sam added. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in jail?”

Nick crossed his arms, clearly uncooperative.

Sam narrowed his gaze. “This is your last chance, Nick.”

“You don’t have anything on me except for the word of a murdering felon,” Nick retorted. “I’ll beat this trial in a few months and I’ll be out free…but if you really want to know, I’ll let you in on a little something.”

He leaned in, meeting John’s eyes.

“Dad retaliates,” said Nick. “I think you know that best of all, Detective. This time, I think it’s one son for another. And you’ve got two to pick from.”

“Nick,” Amelia warned, but he ignored her.

He glanced at a carefully stoic Sam before he smirked in John’s face, which had become devoid of all humor and revealed the stoniness underneath.

“If I were a betting guy, I’d put my money on the one that had a fucking building fall on him.”

After leaving the county jail, John drove Sam and Cas back to his sons’ apartment. They couldn’t treat Nick’s warning as an idle threat.

Sam was the prosecutor on the case. He wasn’t willing to step down, so the best they could do for him was give him a police security detail that would have to be with him at all times. However, all three men agreed that you, Dean, and Eileen needed to be put in protective custody during the trial.

“Damn it, Dean,” Sam muttered. His brother wasn’t answering his cell.

“Try him again,” said John.

“Is Eileen still at work?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, but she’s talking to the principal now about a temporary replacement for her classes,” Sam replied. He was worried about her safety, but he was also worried about you and Dean. Neither of you were answering your cell phones.

He later let John and Cas into his apartment, where all looked normal and clean.

“Dean!” Sam called out. He was just about to search the apartment when the man came out of his room, looking freshly showered.

“Hey, what’s up?” said Dean. “The gang’s all here, huh?”

“I’ve been calling you for an hour. Where’ve you been?” Sam asked in annoyance, though it was edged with a hint of more that tipped off Dean.

He sensed the tension in the room between his brother, his father, and his friend. He frowned.

“I had a doctor’s appointment. Why?”

John explained the latest round of questioning with Nick Savage, and his most recent threat. John asked where you were right now, if not in the apartment. Dean’s expression shifted to one of worry as he went to find his cell phone.

“She had a job interview,” he admitted, scrolling through his phone to find your name. “She couldn’t reschedule it, else she would’ve gone with me.”

He’d been uneasy about you going to the interview by yourself, but you hadn’t wanted him to change his appointment, and you had assured him it was only a few minutes away…

Dean held the phone to his ear and waited what felt like an eternity as it rang.

Pick up. Pick up, damn it.

Finally, the line connected.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted…but you didn’t answer.

“You there?” he asked. There was a pit forming in his stomach when he glanced up at John. His father met his gaze with furrowed brows that betrayed concern.

The line was silent for one more painful moment. Dean opened his mouth to call out to you again, but a smooth voice interrupted.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a man replied. “Forgetting something?”

AN: 🫣 Sorry lol.

But the next chapter will bring the final showdown...

Next Time:

Dean’s heart began to pound. His mouth parted, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t escape.

“Who is this?” he said. His voice was a hint unsteady.

“I think you know, son,” the man replied.

Keep Reading: PART 19

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[o0o0thorn0o0o]

Gosh, is this really only my second winter piece this season?? Yikes… And I claim to love this season ;~;

Ik winter’s not over yet, but it’s that time of year where I go on my (planned ^^;;;) break, this piece being my send off (…potentially… I’ll try and see if I can manage a sketch by tonight, but if not, this is it for now). I’ll still be here since it’s a month-long break focused mostly on my iPad (I mean, I can’t stay off it completely, but I’ll try to do as much as I can, eheh. This also means I might post a traditional sketch or two. Maybe, maybe not. But no digital works, that’s for sure). I’d say I’d just be more infrequent, but, like… I’ve already been rather infrequent lately, too…

Fun fact: This was actually intended to be an autumn piece, but then my art rut happened. So I decided to update it into a winter piece. Took a lot longer than I intended to, but I’m still recovering from that rut… only for me to take another break from art now 🙃 Ah, well. C’est la vie.

[mediumgayitalian]

If there’s one thing Will is, it’s committed to the bit.

Is there, perhaps, a touch of regret in his heart as he shivers, freezing, clad in nothing but his t-shirt and cargo shorts? Had he been told, before he left his cabin, by his long-suffering siblings that he was going to regret not wearing a sweater? Was the none-too-gentle reminder sixty-four percent of the reason he’d stubbornly refused the sweater he’d originally been planning on wearing in the first place?

Yes, yes, and no, surprisingly; take that, predictability allegations. He’s spontaneous as shit.

(Eight-three percent.)

(Whatever.)

He walks under a shadowy tree, briefly enveloping him in a deeper cold. He tries and fails to hold back a shudder.

“You’re cold,” says a critical voice to his left.

“I’ve never experienced even a mild case of hypothyroidism-borne boreal temperature intolerance even one time in my life, di Angelo, so check and mate.”

Unfortunately, the second half of his sentence is garbled by both his chattering teeth and his throat beginning to close. Curse you, Apollonian inability to lie. Will has people to gaslight, and a reputation to protect.

“You’re an idiot.”

Will wheezes. After three or four attempts, and the threat from his brain to his lungs that he will self-tracheotomize, really, he will, just try and fuck around cause you will sure as shit find out, bitch, he manages to clear his airways enough to employ his vocal chords (which, actually, are inaptly named. They are not chords, they are membranophones. Obviously).

“Nuh uh.”

“You really are an idiot. A frozen one.” Nico huffs. There is the sound of rustling, and for a moment Will is blindingly jealous of his friend’s night vision. He wants to snoop around in the dark to identify rustling sounds. How come he only glows when he’s embarrassed? He gets the stupidest Apollo powers. “Take my coat.”

Before Will can do much as protest, a heavy, undoubtedly warm jacket is shoved in his pockets.

“If you don’t wear it I’ll shadow travel to Slovakia,” Nico threatens. “And it’s winter for them right now, too, so I’ll pop out and immediately succumb to the elements.”

Will’s turn to be huffy, he slides the stupid jacket onto his arms. Immediately, he’s filled with a warmth so potent he feels as if he can almost fix his many mental problems. It’s glorious.

“Jacket smells like you, stink-face,” he says instead. He buries his nose in the collar and takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes as he savours the smell of woodsmoke, leather, and, amusingly, a little bit of oregano.

“Remind me to stab you tomorrow morning. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been three days,” Will argues, but dutifully makes a mental note.

Nico seems pleased.

They finally break through the woods’ borders, stepping into the torchlight of camp, late evening. Will spots three couples sucking face behind their cabin. He then spies thrice as many Hermes kids up to nefarious deeds, such as attaching timed fireworks to windows and doorways for a fun morning surprise. Will makes a mental note, under the stabbing reminder, to prepare burn salve tomorrow morning. And to hide Cecil in his office for his own protection, because he’s a good friend like that.

“Thank you for getting herbs with me,” Will says, turning to Nico. He smiles, trying to pour as much gratitude into his voice as he can. “I hate going alone.”

“Yeah,” says Nico, stiffly. He looks everywhere but Will’s face. When Will does not look away, he glances over, scowling at Will’s broadening grin. “Whatever, Solace. Don’t be so needy, next time.”

Tactfully, Will refrains from mentioning that he had not asked for Nico’s accompaniment at all, actually, and was halfway to the forest with a list of ingredients when Nico had shown up, red-faced, and snatched Will’s list clean out of his hands and muttered something about incompetence and monster baiting fools.

“I still appreciate it,” he says diplomatically, and then, because he is an asshole and also struggles with impulse control, he leans down and pecks Nico’s forehead. “Smooch of gratitude,” he explains when Nico freezes, facial expression resembling that of a squished pear.

“Ha nngh mfgh,” Nico says after a moment. Or perhaps he said hangry muffins, Will’s not sure, sometimes his hearing aids go wonky.

“Indeed,” he says anyway. He leans down to smooch Nico’s forehead again, because it was nice, and because he didn’t get stabbed the first time. “See you in the morning, Neeks. Love you bunches and bunches.”

“Hngh daga,” Nico responds, and when Will pouts he clears his throat and rectifies, “I love you…too?”

Will nods, satisfied. “Yes, exactly. Goodnight.”

He jogs off, waving. It isn’t until he gets back to his cabin and is immediately accosted by his siblings that he realises that he has stolen Nico’s jacket.

“Hm.” He glances down at it. It really is a wonderful jacket. And, plus, Nico didn’t give him a return date, or anything, so it’s probably fine if he keeps it a little longer.

He doesn’t want to get cold, after all.

[luffyvace]

How aizawa courts you/relationship headcanons

y���all seem to really like the crush headcanons i did so now i’m doing him when he actually tries to court you and when your actually together :)

this is still going to be canon aizawa btw

also still fem reader in mind

okay so now that aizawa is trying to court you, like in love and wants to date

he’d be forward about it

probably waits until your at his place or yours

then as your doing whatever he’ll ask

“y/n i have something important to tell you”

“yeah? what is it, it’s not bad is it?”

“no, i actually just wanted to know if you’d like to go out somewhere with me. a date.”

your reaction may vary from shock to a knowing smile

either way you accept politely (how could you reject such a fine man?)

so you both talk about the date and end up planning it out right then and there

you decided that weekend would work fine

so after that’s settled you talk about each other’s feelings, how and why they came to be

you figured out you fell first but he fell harder :)

so your first date would be out somewhere simple yet fun and with a little less people

so there’s this place called cat island in japan

yeah

its perfect

(i hope your a cat person)

it’s exactly what you think, there’s cats everywhere search it up

there’s more cats than people actually

its heaven for him

you guys have a fun field day with cats then head back to your house

chatting and looking at the pictures you took

and yeah!

again he’s straight forward with courting

so now we’re on relationship

you guys are definitely closer now

i’ll go through a normal day for y’all then relationship things

so

aizawa gets up early for his job

he’ll get ready and text you to see how your doing then go to work

if you work at ua with him and live together

he likely gets up first if not y’all are up at the same time

when he’s ready he’ll wake you up if you like to sleep in

and warm the car while he waits if it’s winter (yippie he’s freezing so you don’t have to)

y’all drive to work together

you can text him throughout work but he won’t reply unless it’s important or a genuinely good question

he won’t slack off the job (EVEN THO HE SLEEPS ON IT)

anyway

if you work with him he’ll text you on break if your not already in the staff room

or if you have separate jobs he’ll still text to check up on you

makes sure you eat something

is today stressful so far?

why? vent to him.

he truly cares about your physical and mental health

once you both get home from work he’ll run you a bath and cook dinner

he’s a average cook, can cook basic things

if y’all don’t live together he’s more likely to order take out though

not always junk food sometimes he’s just tired and orders a salad. he’s upset because he knows he can make it himself but he’s just so tired

so he appreciates if you turn the tables and treat him to a bath and hot meal (if y’all moved in together)

but if y’all got your own places sometimes if your both still energized you’ll come over to one another’s house

if y’all live together he falls asleep real fast

won’t mind if you snuggle next to him

except for when he gets hot

then he turns over 😭

sometimes he’ll try to stay up to have those late night convos with you but don’t get mad if he falls asleep, it’s by accident. y’all can always continue the next night :)

he won’t snuggle you btw

just because he naturally stays on his side of the bed

he ain’t a wild sleeper

he flips from side to side

its rare to catch him on his back for more than a few minutes

LUCKY YOU HE’S NOT A BLANKET HOGGER

if you are tho

he’ll get annoyed the first few times but he won’t say anything about it

after a few nights he just gets his own blanket

if your a wild sleeper this annoys him more than hogging the blanket

he’ll tell you, you keep kicking him and slapping him in his sleep and it wakes him up

yknow your boy likes some good sleep so he doesn’t stand for you wakin him up

suggests to get two beds

but you don’t like that idea

so he’ll probably end up putting pillows in between you or sleeping in his sleeping bag on the floor 😭

if y’all stay at different places tho

its rare for y’all to have a sleepover

he doesn’t see the point in having two different houses if you just want to sleep at his

would think about moving in together

but he won’t bring it to the table unless he see’s a opportunity or feels you’d feel comfortable/like that

if you do manage to convince him he’s not staying up and playing or smth he’s literally going to sleep

if your a wild sleeper he won’t do it again

otherwise you may be able to convince him like 2 or 3 more times

dont tell mic though if mic teases him he’ll never do it again

not to spite you but out of annoyance from yamada (mic)

he just won’t feel like it anymore

btw keep your room clean or be scolded

”clean your room y/n there’s no reason you should have clothes and clutter everywhere.”

“you don’t even need half of this stuff, just clean it.”

now to genuine relationship things

well for one i’m telling you he won’t call you pet names

just

“y/n”

”why should i call you ___ if your name is y/n”

doesn’t see the point in them

you may be able to convince him a few years into the relationship to call you “babe” or anything simple and sweet but that’s it

maybe a “n/n” occasionally

if YOU call HIM pet names tho

he wouldn’t mind :)

still doesn’t get it tho

just don’t make it anything too sappy

he’ll funny look you if you do

especially at work

or around mic and all might

would prefer if you stuck to the simple ones or a nickname tho

another thing

if your a hero, a reckless one at that, he’ll worry for you and scold you if you get injured

please don’t give this man a heart attack

”you need to be more rational”

if your already a rational person thank goodness

he’s glad he doesn’t have to babysit a whole class of students and you

random

but

if you like coffee or tea he’ll make you some before/when you get up

if you don’t live together he’ll bring you a cup if you both work at ua

if you work on weekends (idk how some people do it) he’ll bring you a cup on your lunch break

giving each other massages>>

he’s really good at it too

he’s a good person to vent to as well

especially about the stress of work because he felt that

he’ll take you on dates randomly even if y’all are in a relationship

not every week

but he’ll take the time out to spend it with you if he has some

he’s a traditional gentleman

and by that i mean buy you flowers and gifts

but not just “roses 🤓☝️“

he’ll actually take the time to learn your favorite flowers and buys you reals ones to take care of

if you don’t have a green thumb how else will you learn?

so he’ll buy them anyway

helps you take care of them though

he waters them and reminds you to if you live separately

he buys you little trinkets and gifts that BENEFIT you

not just something that’ll “collect dust” as he says

like if you tell him your vacuum breaks down every few months

he’ll RESEARCH one that doesn’t, is inexpensive and cleans well

and buy it for you :)

overall he’s a 10/10 boyfriend 100% green flag

ladies and gentlemen (and whoever’s in between)

get yourself an aizawa

enough said

have a good day/night

[peaches2217]

“You’ve gotta take a nap, bro.”

“Then I’d have to stop looking at her.”

“She’ll be here when you wake up.”

“But I gotta make sure, yeah?”

“That’s what I’m here for, you big doofus. You know I won’t let anything happen to her!”

Luigi knew better than to take it personally, his brother’s protests and the silences between them. Reasoning with Mario when he was short on sleep was always an ouroboric cycle; the key to victory was to wear him down, tail him relentlessly in endless verbal circles, until at last he was tired enough to believe that dropping everything for a quick break was his own idea, at which point he would happily concede.

He’d always been stubborn like that. And as Luigi was quickly learning, the only thing more stubborn than an exhausted Mario was an exhausted Mario with a sleeping newborn in his arms. But he’d procured a nap himself and was armed with an endless supply of coffee and a foot-tall stack of Better Toads and Gardens. He could play this game all night long.

When another silence fell over them, he peeked over from an article on propagating winter roses and watched for a moment. Nothing new to observe. Mario still cradled his daughter’s head to his heart, his thumb stroking her cheek; his eyes were heavy yet soft and full of wonder, an equally soft (if slightly dopey) smile on his lips.

Luigi felt a similar smile creep onto his own face. He’d be lying if he tried to deny how precious the sight was, or how it made him want to melt into the loveseat they shared like gooey candy left too long in the sun. Fatherhood looked good on his brother. He’d always suspected it would.

Of course, it would look a lot better once Mario wasn’t visibly on the verge of passing out. And maybe after he took a razor to the stubble prickling his chin and cheeks and neck. And a good shower wouldn’t hurt, either. But for now, one hurdle at a time.

“Remember that talk we had?” Luigi leaned to his opposite side to fetch his drink from the end table, overcrowded with magazines. “You’ve gotta take care of yourself if you’re gonna take care of anyone else.”

“I know,” Mario groaned, dragging the last syllable out like a petulant child who’d been asked to clean his room, “and I’m gonna! You know that! But I gotta make sure she gets rested up first, yeah? All these new sounds and sights; that’s hard work, taking it all in! She’s too little for all that excitement.”

That dopey smile widened, and as Luigi polished off his fifth cup of coffee, Mario began cooing beneath his breath: “Sì che lo sei! Mia bellissima principessina! Mia albicoccetta sonnolenta! Papà adora così tanto la sua bambina! Sì! Sì!”

That was a good sign. A babbling Mario was a Mario desperately trying to keep himself awake, and thus a Mario mere minutes from giving into sleep. Luigi set his cup back onto the table and draped his reading material over the loveseat’s arm so he could commandeer baby duty at a moment’s notice.

“You can barely even keep your eyes open. It’s not safe to fall asleep holding a baby,” Luigi reminded him. “I’ll hold her for you. She’ll probably still be snoozing away by the time you wake up!”

Mario’s smile gradually faded, and he squinted down at his little girl, as if contemplating every divot of her visage. Luigi swore he could hear the squeak-squeak-squeak of rusty, overworked cogwheels rotating deep within his brother’s brain.

“What if she isn’t?” Mario eventually asked.

“Isn’t what?”

“Snoozing. You know? What if… what if she wakes up before I do? What if she needs changed, or…”

“Then I’ll change her. No sweat.”

Mario shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Mario, I’m a plumber. You think dirty diapers scare me?”

“No, I mean—” he gulped, catching a quiet, heavy breath. “Won’t she be scared? If she wakes up and she needs something but her mama’s asleep and her papa’s asleep, she’s gonna think she’s all alone, and—” His voice cracked as he spoke, and as soon as he stopped talking, his bottom lip began to wobble, fat tears pooling in his eyes.

That was also good. A weepy and irrational Mario was a Mario on the precipice of surrender. This would be over soon.

“No!” Those tears leaked out as he buried his face into the crown of her head, planting little kisses to her hair between affirmations. “No no no, Papà non andrà da nessuna parte, albicoccetta! Non ti abbandonerò mai!” Mwah! “Mai!” Mwah! “Mai!”

“Stars’ sakes, Mario, you’re not abandoning her.” Luigi made a point to keep his voice even and sympathetic as he scooted closer, draping an arm around his emotional brother’s shoulders. “I can wake you up if she needs anything,” he promised. “But you know she’ll be okay! As long as she’s clean and cozy, she’ll sleep like a— well, you know.”

Mario sniffled. “You’ll keep her cozy?”

“The coziest. She’ll be so cozy she won’t even know you passed her off to me!”

“...But we don’t smell the same! She’ll smell you and know it’s not me!”

“Bro. She’s a baby, not a dog.”

“But she’s so talented! So smart!” Mario hiccupped and turned to wipe his face across his shirt sleeve, already stained and crusty from the fifteen times he’d used it as a snot rag prior. “She stopped crying as soon as she heard her mama! She opened her eyes when I talked to her for the first time! She knows these things!”

If she already knows your smell as well as she knows your voice, then you really need that shower. Luigi bit back a chuckle and cleared his throat. No, he’d be every bit as incoherent and emotionally raw in Mario’s shoes. Comfort now. Snark later.

“Look at me, bro.” He pulled back just enough so that Mario could look up at him, and that alone was a victory, because he hadn’t looked away from his daughter in hours. And looking into his eyes now, red from tears and foggy with fatigue, Luigi knew with even greater conviction that he was on the right track. “If she wakes up — the second she starts acting scared or sad or needy, I’ll wake you up.”

“You promise?”

“On Polterpup.”

“You won’t just grab a nurse, or make Peach—” Something like horror flickered across Mario’s face, and suddenly he leaned in, his brows scrunched and his tone sharp. “Swear you won’t wake Peach up. No matter what. Don’t even think about it! Swear that on Mama’s grave!”

Luigi blinked. Well, if he’d been entertaining thoughts of waking a new mother after she’d spent all day in labor (which he wasn’t, at least not too seriously), those thoughts went flying out the nearest window. Mama Mario would personally descend in a chariot of angels to smack him with a rolling pin for committing such an act in the first place; what wrath would he incur if he also spited her name in the process?

Yeesh. That was an intense request, even (or maybe especially) for Mario.

Still, he clapped a hand against his brother’s shoulder, nodding firmly. “Sulla tomba di Mamma. Lo giuro.”

Finally, Mario’s face softened, and he lowered his head with a sigh. Luigi met him halfway; he cupped the back of Mario’s head and touched their foreheads together, and there they savored a moment of quiet resignation, taking in each other’s calming presence.

Wow. It had only taken three hours to reach this point. Honestly, Luigi was quite impressed with himself.

“Alright.” With one last sigh, Mario broke free and turned his attention back to the bundle in his arms, kissing her forehead gently. “You be good for Zio, okay, sweetie? He’s gonna take good care of you.”

Even in the weariest depths of acute oxytocin intoxication, Mario knew (with minimal convincing) that his own child was just as safe with his twin as she was with him. Luigi cleared his throat again, some fluttery but not unpleasant feeling bubbling in his chest. He knew better than to take that for granted.

Zio. Oh, he loved that title.

He found himself uttering his own stream of soothing nothings as he plucked the baby from Mario’s arms, leaning back against the couch cushion so he could prop her against his chest. Stars Almighty, she was her papa’s spitting image. Her chubby cheeks, her strong jaw, her dark hair — she was Mario if he had Peach’s eyes and nose and shaved off his mustache and was also thirty years younger. A little Mini-Mario.

Luigi clicked his tongue softly at his precious little niece, resting peacefully in his arms, entirely unphased by the transfer. Another trait she’d picked up from her father, it seemed: she was one heck of a heavy sleeper.

He would tear down the sky and blow up the stars for her. Funny, how quickly one can devote their entire being to something so small.

“C’mon,” he said, facing his brother again, “let’s get you somewhere more—”

Mario was out cold. He hadn’t even laid back or made himself comfortable; he just slumped forward, his mouth open slightly, his eyes lightly shut.

Great. Speak of the devil…

“Hey.” He glanced back down to the infant in his arms, ensuring her neck remained stable as he nudged his brother with his shoulder. “Come on. Don’t do this! There’s a perfectly good sofa literally right across the room!”

His rationale went unheard. Mario swayed in place for a moment, eyes still closed, and then slouched into Luigi’s side, his head landing square on his shoulder. A quiet snore escaped him as he made contact, and then nothing.

Luigi stared down at his unconscious twin in stupefaction, eventually casting a longing gaze at his gardening magazine, still open and waiting for him on his opposite side. Mario wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. He could, in theory, free himself, but given how the hypervigilant dad-to-be had trained himself these past months to startle awake at the slightest sudden movement…

Well. Their shared moment of resignation hadn’t just been for Mario’s sake, then.

Ah well. Best not divide his attention while babysitting. With a lighthearted huff, Luigi carefully repositioned himself, pulling his legs beneath him and leaning against the loveseat’s arm (and creasing his poor abandoned magazine in the process) so he could more appropriately support Mario’s bulk. Both father and daughter remained undisturbed as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

“Starai una rompiscatole come Papà?” he whispered to the bundle in his arms. He tried to sound annoyed, if for no one’s sake but his own, but he couldn’t possibly drop the grin that tugged at his cheeks.

His niece smacked her tiny lips, nestling a bit deeper into her blanket with a quiet noise. At the same time, Mario snored again, settling against his brother in his sleep.

A Mini-Mario indeed.

“Oh, sì!” Luigi nuzzled his nose into the crown of her head, planting little kisses to hair as she snoozed. “La rompiscatole preferita di Zio! Sì che lo sei! Sì!”