#next up I still wanna do some tiny fixes on his chest tattoo - maybe try and make a custom mesh for it as well

[elvenbeard]

My adventures in blorbo-modding continue and I finally was able to give Vince his custom top surgery scars how I saw them in my head and how I've drawn them on him so far ;___; They're subtle on purpose, but still visible, with some little imperfections here and there and hhhhhhhhh I'm really looking forward to future VP with his chest visible now ;A; These are literally just some quick pics I took in excitement about getting the look and placement right xDD I might tweak some details in the future, especially when I make him an NPV somehwere down the line but YES! One more thing learned that's gonna be so useful, and one step closer to having him look how he's supposed to :3

A little background lore: he got his top surgery done in 2073, working at Arasaka already at the time. The costs were pretty much covered by his Trauma Team insurance, which had actually been one of the reasons why he originally took the job - not the main reason, but definitely a contributing factor. At the semi-legal car workshop he worked at before it would've taken him years still to be able to afford this. And he wouldn't have been able to get the modern, fancy procedure done he could with the Arasaka paychecks.

It would've resulted in an even more even, less visible result, had he rested his ass a little bit longer during recovery. But still being new, just out of basic training, freshly appointed to Counterintel, he was worried Jenkins or Jenkins' superiors would use his medical leave as an excuse to get him kicked out before he even got in properly... So in some places the sutures didn't heal as well as they could've with more rest, and everything is still somewhat visible 4+ years later. But the result is still so much nicer than anything he could've hoped for before his corpo job.

Also, big shoutout to @pinkyjulien for very patiently walking me through making my own mesh for these, sth I hadn't done before, that made all of this such an easy process in the end :D

[arrowflier]

arrow!!!!!! the x-men AU idea! yes, yes, yES. 🙌

Twisha my dear, thank you for giving me an excuse!  This got a little dark (warnings in tags), but it was fun to try.

Spikes and Quills May Do Me Ill (but your hands never hurt me)

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” the hedgehog boy growled at Ian, and Ian backed away, hands raised.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, then hesitated.

“Well?” the kid pressed, quills perking up in agitation.  “What is it?  Spit it out!”

“Your neck!” Ian blurted out obediently, and immediately closed his eyes with a wince.  He shouldn’t have said that.  He should not have said that.

He waited for the blow to come.  Hedgehog guy was notorious for his short temper, and the only thing Ian was unsure of was whether he’d be getting a fist to the face, or a spike to some other part of his body.

Probably his eyes, since he’d been caught looking.

He just couldn’t help it, though.

Ian had always sort of had his eye on the other boy.  He didn’t even know his name, but he’d seen him around school.  The guy would show up wearing like fifty layers of clothes—long sleeves, cut-off gloves, a hat and scarf no matter the weather—and he always stripped off as soon as he was in the door, shedding clothes like a snake sheds skin, until he was down to a sleeveless tee that showed off all his most unique attributes.

And unique they certainly were.

The first time Ian had seen him, he’d almost thought that they were tattoos.  Some sort of major piece that covered his back, his shoulders, and his neck, carrying down the backs of his arms but fading away from the front, from his chest.  He’d been trying to get a better look at the pattern when some idiot had come up behind the guy and tapped him on the shoulder, resulting a sudden flare of quills that had everyone around them stepping back in alarm.

It was beautiful.

That wasn’t the only beautiful thing about him, but it might be what Ian liked most.  Plenty of other boys had dark hair, or blue eyes, or a muscular stature.  Plenty of other boys walked through the halls like they owned them (even though none of them did).

But there was only one boy in school with all of that and more, only one boy that Ian wanted to touch.  To see if those spikes felt real.

Only one boy who…still wasn’t hitting Ian?

Ian squinted one eye open, then both.  The other boy was just staring at him, lips pursed, eyes narrowed.  He looked angry, but also…curious?  That couldn’t be right.

“The fuck did you say to me?” hedgehog boy asked quietly, the kind of quiet that was dangerous.  The kind before he threw that other kid across the bleachers last year for calling him a mutie to his face.

Ian wondered if that kid had ever regained the full use of his legs.  Or his facial muscles after they got all the quills out.

It had sure been something to see that happen.

But now wasn’t the time to reminisce about watching this fine specimen in front of him picking up some asshole like it was nothing, quills rippling down his muscled arms and back as he tossed him aside like a bag of potatoes.  Not unless he wanted the same thing to happen to him.

Well…

No.  Never mind.

“I said I was looking at your neck,” Ian muttered quietly, torn between answering and self-preservation.  He wasn’t really sure which one won.

“And what,” hedgehog boy hissed, stepping closer, “is wrong with my neck?”

Um.  Was he serious?  Ian had been able to tell from the across the room that something was wrong, even under the flickering hallway lights.  The other boy’s neck was red, and not in the fun, blushing kind of way.  

No, it was red like a bloody bruise.  In fact, now that Ian got a closer look, it actually was bloody—smears of dried blood covering an oddly smooth area that looked wrong next to all the quills spiked up around it.  

It almost looked like he had been plucked.

“What happened?” Ian asked instead of answering the question.  “Did you do that to yourself?”

“No, I didn’t…” the other boy sputtered and paused, clearly caught off guard.  He eyed Ian warily for a moment, but whatever he found in Ian’s eyes must have calmed him, because then he was backing away again, quills smoothing down into his skin.

“What’s it to ya?” he asked, glancing around.  There were only a few other people left in the hallway, most having already made it to class.  

It made Ian weirdly brave.

“I could help,” he offered, and tried not to shrink back when those ice-blue eyes fixed on him again.

“Yeah?”  Hedgehog boy stepped closer again.  “How you gonna do that?”

“I, um.”  Ian paused, swallowed.  Tried again.  “I can heal?”

The boy’s eyes rose.  “That a question, tough guy?”  He sounded incredulous.

Ian shook his head.

“No, I mean, I can,” he confirmed.  He lifted a hand awkwardly, reaching for the other boy, who pulled back out of reach before Ian could touch him.

“I just need to…” Ian trailed off, reaching out again.  With another glance around the hall and a shallow nod from his companion, Ian stepped forward.

He got his hand on that reddened neck, soft under the skin of his fingertips.  After a single breath of hesitation, when he wasn't pushed away, he flattened his palm against it focused.

It started as a warmth under his skin.  Almost soft, not unpleasant, just a brush of heat to tell him it was working.

Then came the pain.

Ian hissed between his teeth at the first sharp feeling, like a pinprick on his own neck.  If he looked, he knew it would be red like the other boy's, a tiny fleck of blood rising to the surface.

"Hey, wait," came that boy's panicked voice.  "What are you--"

"Shh," Ian urged, and pressed his hand tighter to that injured throat.  "This is how it works."

The pain kept coming.  Pull after pull of quills that didn't exist coming free of his skin, each one sharper, more real than the last.

And with one particularly rough pang, the visions started.

Come here, Mickey boy

Fear.  Anger.  Shame.

No son of mine...

Heightened heart rate.  Breath catching. A hand on his shoulder.  Around his throat. Pain.

Get that from your no good mother...

Pain.  Pain.  Tweezers in a gnarled hand, plucking.  Cold eyes, staring.  A girl cowering in the corner, watching, crying.

"Stop!" the boy cried, yanking back out of Ian's hold.  "The fuck are you doing?"

I’ll teach you to...

A door opening, hands dropping.  Metal instrument falling to the floor.  His neck is sore, but his legs burn more as he runs, runs, runs.

He sounded frantic, afraid, but Ian was too far to stop.  There was more healing to do.

He ignored the now raw wound on his own neck and reached out again.  The other boy went to slap him away, but hit his palm instead with his own, and Ian was once again lost in pain, and memories, and feeling.

His neck was healing, now.  But his palm was bleeding, crescent shaped marks from untrimmed nails digging in as he saw his own eyes staring at him across the hall.

Bright green eyes.  Pale skin.  Red hair.  Lips that looked like--

"Get offa me!"

Ian let go, panting, disoriented.  The eyes he gazed into weren't green like his own, but blue and sharp and wide.

"Mickey," Ian breathed, and the boy bolted.

🦔🦔🦔

Ian didn't see Mickey for the next two days.  Not at school, and not around the neighborhood, either.

He wanted to see him.  Wanted to apologize.  It was how his mutation worked, and he wasn't sorry for that--he had to feel something to heal it, take it into himself, live through it.  But he should have warned Mickey of what that meant.

That it meant he would see everything.

Ian was walking home after school, starting to wonder if Mickey would ever show his face again, when they jumped him.

Two older boys and a girl, all wearing anti-mutant propaganda shirts with bandanas over their faces, tugged Ian back into a narrow alley by the straps of his bag and threw him up against the rough brick wall.

"Heard about your little stunt with the Milkovich brat," one of them hissed in his face.  His breath was rank even through the cloth covering his mouth, and Ian tried to twist away.

Another one punched him in the gut, hard enough to make him wheeze.

"Don't you look away while he's talkin to you, mu--"

He was cut off by an arm wrapped around his throat.  An arm covered in bristling, sharp quills.

"You wanna say that again?" Mickey growled behind Ian's attackers, voice low and dangerous.

"Shit!" the third one yelped, and took off running, nearly knocking her own companions over as she ran for the opening of the alley.  Ian fell to the ground as his first attacker followed close after, and rubbed a hand over his ribs.

"Uh, hey there man," warbled the boy Mickey still held up.  "Just a misunderstanding, I swear, we were--"

"Shut the fuck up," Mickey ordered, shaking the arm around the boy’s neck so the longest quills rattled dangerously close to his face.

Ian wondered what he was going to do to him.  And whether he should care.

Mickey looked at him over the other guy’s shoulder.  Whatever he saw in Ian’s eyes had him relaxing his arm, and shoving his prisoner away so hard he stumbled.

“Don’t let me see you again, asshole,” Mickey said to his back, aiming a kick at him on his way to the street.

“What made you come back?” Ian asked from his position on the ground once they were alone.  Mickey turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.  The quills along his back flared once and settled, calm.

“Why do you think?” he returned, like it was obvious.

Maybe it was.  But Ian needed to hear him say it.

“Thought you were avoiding me,” Ian challenged, and watched Mickey roll his eyes.

“Yeah, well.”  Mickey rubbed a hand over his lip, the quills on the back of it sticking out over his fingers.  “Us muties gotta stick together, right?”

Ian smiled.

And though he’d definitely deny it later, Mickey smiled back.

[nevilles-insinuations]

The Road to Normal - Colson Baker

Requested by @catlady495​ : are you taking requests? if so i think it would be so cute if you like took your kids to see colson on tour and have it like really fluff/cute family crap 🥺 

Word Count: 1929 Warnings: None really. Fluff and kids. A/N: Gif by me. Sorry this took so long but I had no idea what to write for a while and kept deleting stuff. Anyways, Stream Tickets to My Downfall!

Going on a flight with 3 kids was just as hectic as it sounded. You were starting to question whether it was worth it. A 2-year-old half asleep on your lap, his feet dangling in your face for an hour. Because if you moved even an inch, he would wake up and you weren’t emotionally prepared for that.

Bella had finally stopped asking questions about the plane, how it flew and when she would see her dad. Her sister distracting her with her tablet. You were always thankful for Casie, she was the best big sister that you could ever ask her to be. Even when you didn't ask, she was awesome. 5 months and 25 days without him and you were going a little stir crazy. It was the loneliness more than anything that got you. The kids hated it, and seeing them like that made your heart hurt.

Colson was feeling it too, though he would never admit how much. Tour was insane like always, but he loved it. The mess, the noise, the crowd. Performing was like breathing to him - the only thing he would change was you. Without you there, it was like a piece of him was missing. A late-night phone call and "I miss you" couldn't get you to drop everything and fly to another country. Now you had kids, it was a lot more difficult to bring them out on road. The circumstances were understandable but hard to take. So this plan was put into action. The plan that involved your legs being scrunched up against a chair for 5 hours and trapped in a metal tube. The ride to the hotel was thankfully pretty short, and you met your favourite co-conspirator there.

"Hey (Y/N)"

Ashleigh hugged you tight, bright smile on her face now that you were finally here. Colson needed this, and she knew you did too.

"How are you guys?"

She was attacked with cuddles in response, laughing as the kids could barely contain their excitement.

Colson, completely unaware of his almost screaming children in the lobby, was in his room. He had called you, just before you'd left for the airport. Panic filled your body. Trying to brush him off was difficult. Normally you'd talk for hours but your terrible excuse of “crying kids and needing to go grocery shopping” was enough to prevent any questions. Thankfully he was too tired to probe any further. You probably made his shitty day even worse, the sadness in his voice killed you.

“No- its fine baby, we can talk later. It was nothing important, I just miss you and the kids like crazy. I love you”

At least now you could make his day a whole lot better.

"Which way is it?"

Casie asked once you were out of the elevator, and finally at his floor. She was bouncing with more energy than you'd seen in a while. Looking determined, concentration etched on her face as she matched the number on the keycard with the doors in front of her. Eli tried to escape from your arms getting antsy, wanting to go where everyone else was.

"Okay, okay. You'll see Daddy soon I promise"

You gently shushed him, eyes widening at the mention of his father. You followed your girls to make sure they didn't scream the entire way there.

"(Y/N), come on!"

Casie ran back and her hand tugged yours. Bella was behind you using all of her might to push, her little arms only reaching your lower back. You laughed, while they hurried you to the door. Now only a few steps separated you from him. Colson didn't flinch at the sound of the door handle, presuming it was Ash coming to talk about the show later. Looking up from his phone, he sighed, waiting for another lecture. His mouth fell open when he saw you all standing there.

"Dad!"

Bella ran towards him and Eli wriggled out of your grasp, climbing over the mattress with his sister's help. Casie made her way around the bed, diving under his other arm.

"What are you doing here?"

That smile you loved so much was plastered on his face, unable to hide it at seeing his babies. They were actually here and not buffering pixels thanks to terrible hotel Wi-Fi.

"Came to see you, duh"

Casie shrugged like it was the easiest thing into the world, burrowing back into his shoulder, while her father laughed.

Finally hearing that laugh in person was heaven. His eyes met yours across the room. After months, those blue eyes were staring into yours, lingering on your figure in disbelief. For a while, he would get to be Colson, instead of Kells.

He escaped the grasp of your children, making his way over to you. Enveloping you in a hug and almost lifting you off the floor. Pressing a kiss to his lips your hand caressed his cheek, drinking in your favourite view. Cuddling you tight to his chest for a few seconds, Colson planted a kiss to your hairline. God, he was so happy. You could hear Casie sighing from the other side of the room. Reaching over dramatically to cover her sibling's eyes, both of you chuckled at her antics. Finally, everything was back to your crazy kind of normal.

The few hours you got to yourselves were gloriously spent doing nothing. Colson listening attentively as Casie told him everything that had happened at school. Bella showed him how far she had got with the guitar. The instrument was bigger than her but she was determined to prove that their facetime lessons were working.

Eventually, you made it to soundcheck. The kids all looked so cute in their matching tour shirts. As you strolled in, Casie was glued to his hip, she was definitely going to be taller than him soon. They were all taller than the last time he’d seen them, which Colson hated. His tiny humans were getting bigger by the second and he was missing it. But the feeling of having them here made him forget that pain of leaving and missing them every second.

You plonked yourself on a seat next to Mod, watching a few rows back with Eli on your lap. While, Bella and Casie went wandering backstage with Ash.

"Daddy up there?"

His small voice asked, swinging his legs on the chair. He had gotten bored on your lap after a while. You pointed up to the stage, where Colson was currently talking to Rook about a drum solo.

"Wanna see!"

You lifted Eli off the chair, holding him above your head to see the stage.

"Wanna see Daddy!"

You pointed to the stage with your free hand but it was no use. Eli sniffled, pouting at you. Those big brown eyes blinking up at you, and you instantly melted.

"Fine. We'll go even though he's only over there"

Mod laughed, as you trudged up that stage, crying toddler in tow.

AJ and Baze waved at Eli who gave them a small wave back, but his eyes remained fixed on his father. Slim pointed for Colson to turn around.

"What's up?"

Colson reached out, taking your son in his arms, eyes scanning for any injury. Eli wrapped his arms around his neck and immediately shut up.

"What's wrong? Why you crying?"

"Missed you"

The baby mumbled into his tattooed shoulder, and Colson’s arms squeezed him a little tighter.

"You were just over there!"

He laughed, pointing to where Mod was, who waved back at him.

"You wanna stay up here with me?"

His voice was softer as he asked the question and Eli nodded intently.

"Guess I'll sit here then"

You made your way over the side of the stage, laughing at the thought Colson jumping around with a baby in his arms. He'd done it before. It was difficult but still unbelievably cute.

Casie appeared next to you, back from hanging out with Ash and Ash.

"Hey Casie B"

She rested her head on your shoulder, her curly hair tickling your forehead. At least she still wanted to hang out with you.

"You doing okay?"

She nodded. Casie would have a good time no matter what, she just wanted to see her dad.

“Thanks for bringing me”

“No problem, you’re a delight. Plus who else is going to watch the madness with me?”

She agreed wholeheartedly, and almost on cue, soundcheck was yet again interrupted by one of Colson’s tiny humans. It was less troublesome than the usual chaos that followed your family around, but it was to be expected. Bella walked onstage confidently, not unlike her someone else you knew, planting herself in front of her uncle. Slim leant down, the five-year-old whispering in his ear, to which he nodded.

“Rookie, you’re out the band”

“Again?”

His accent rang in the air, still sounding dejected at the words he had heard so many times.

“Yeah” Slim nodded, helping his niece over to the drums “Bella is replacing you”

“Do you need some help?”

Rook asked, seeing the concentration on her little face.

She paused, thinking about this life-changing decision for a second.

“Maybe a little”

Her tiny hands grabbed the sticks, whacking the drums and cymbals with some sense of rhythm. She was taking advantage of her moment. Soaking up the applause and cheering, you took that as your cue to leave so they could actually rehearse.

The show was phenomenal, as always. Surrounded by music and the unreal energy that came in waves from the stage. To you it was beautiful. Although that may have been just because of who was jumping around shirtless on stage. Colson winked at you and all the girls screamed but you just shook your head and blew a kiss back. Bella was disappointed to not be on drums, but she still had a good time. Bopping along with her tiny headphones, giggling when her dad made funny faces at them. Eli had fun clapping to the music, occasionally half wobbling half dancing with his sisters. The babies got tired quickly, eventually leaving to snooze backstage. Casie was wide awake, watching with awe as her father jumped across the stage. She shot you another smile, and you just felt happy. Nothing could beat that feeling of spending time with your family, the ones you love. Or an amazing concert.

After the show, you were welcomed into a hug by smiling, and very sweaty, Colson. And you wouldn’t change a thing for that sight. Eventually, you’d make it back to the hotel, basking in the almost silence of nighttime and enjoying each other’s company for the first time in a while. Bundled on the bed, cold because your children had claimed ownership of all blankets and comforters. Whispering due to your sleeping kids, you would attempt to have a conversation but Colson would still make you laugh without even trying.

“Quiet is so weird to me now”

The blond hummed, agreeing with your statement. It was nice but strange to not have a constant stream of noise filling the room.

“You wouldn’t rather be out having drunk lightsaber fights right now?”

“I mean, if you’re suggesting it-”

He abruptly sat up, attempting to move off the edge of the bed, amongst the sea of people on the mattress.

“Nope. This is perfect”

Colson shook his head, moving back and resting comfortably on your shoulder. And you knew, he meant every word. Despite the tantrums, very long flights and awkward facetimes. This was worth it and always would be.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 06 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (05)

Next part(07) ->

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

In the Blue

Ivar's room is twice the size of yours. You're blushing a little when you get inside, pacing around as he locks the door. “When I said we could get to know each other better, I wasn't expecting life to give a little push.” You mutter, letting yourself fall on a chair.

“We might as well take the chances life gives us then.” He snaps back with a smile. You do want to follow up his mood, but you can't stop thinking about the reason why you're here.

“Yeah.” It's everything you manage to say, starting to undo the braids on your hair.

“If you think you won't be safe here you're welcome to leave and find one of my brothers too–”

“That's not it, Ivar.” Deciding to cut him off before he goes on with whatever nonsense he has in mind, you raise your voice. Your fingers fail to deal with the braid on the back of your head, and the hair gets all tangled up. “Damn it!” You curse, giving up and sighing. “If I wanted to go with Bjorn, I would've, alright? Or Hvitserk, or Ubbe or whoever.” Bouncing your leg, you cup your hands together, nervously massaging your knuckles.

A few moments of silence follow before Ivar moves. You're about to ask what he's doing when he stops right behind you in the chair, and you feel his hands on your hair. “You learned fast.” He mutters, and you feel as more and more hair gets loose, cascading down your shoulders.

“Aslaug was a good teacher.”

“I still don't understand how you made my mother go from despising to caring about you in two days.” His clutch falls from where he had laid it, but you're quick to hold it before it hits the ground, pulling it to rest on your lap. “It's still a mystery to me.”

“She wanted to know about my life, and I was honest.“ Taking a deep breath, you smile when Ivar pushes all of your hair over your shoulders, signaling he's done. His fingers brush on the skin of the back of your neck, and by the way they linger a little too much, you wonder if it was an accident or not. “Everything I said that day, on the first feast, is true. I hated m life back then and now... Now I get to make my own decisions.” Getting up from the chair, you hand him his clutch. “That's why I chose not to stay with Bjorn.”

“Good.” He says, smiling as he moves to the bed. “Now you get to chose again. You can either sleep on the chair or here with me.” Ivar sits on the edge of the bed and starts to take the metal armor around his legs.

You do consider the chair, thinking that maybe you could wait for him to sleep and only then move to the bed. But he'd tease you just the same. And you'd be just sharing the bed, it's no big deal. You wouldn't mind if it was Hvitserk, but with Ivar... It makes you way too nervous. “I guess it's alright.” Slowly, you walk around the bed, watching as he gets rid of the metal before taking his shirt off. “Whoa. What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to sleep.” He explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

The last thing you want is to see Ivar shirtless. But still, you can't help but look. Your eyes travel through the tattoo on his back, but the muscles are what get your attention. He pulls his legs up, giving you a better sight of his arm and chest. But then he looks straight at you, and there's no way you can pretend you weren't staring. “The tattoo sucks.” You mutter, turning away from him and taking your jewelry off, putting them down on a small table near the bed.

“I thought girls liked it.”

“Well, I don't.” When everything is off, you loosen your dress a little before fixing the blankets on you.

“Well...” He mirrors your tone as you lie down, facing the ceiling. “You're not like other girls, are you?” Ivar does the same, flat on his back.

“Guess I'm not.” Taking a deep breath, your mind goes back to the feast. “Maybe that was why those men had eyes on me. I know I still look like an outsider most of the time.”

“They set eyes on you because you're pretty.”

“Pretty or pretty stupid?” You snap, turning your head to look at him.

“More pretty than stupid.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But since they don't know you as I do, they only get the pretty part.”

“You're such an idiot.” Elbowing him, you look at the ceiling again. But the jokes only make you remember the facts, and you can't help but feel disgusted and scared. “Those men were looking at me like I was naked. They were already... Imagining it.”

The unpleasant thought is suddenly pushed back when you feel Ivar's hand grabbing yours. It feels like tiny lightning bolts are crawling through your arm, and you immediately look at him again, turning the palm of your hand up, allowing his fingers to intertwine with yours.

“I meant what I said. Nobody will hurt you.” He's serious now, not even a hint of doubt on his voice. His grip tightens a little, and your smile.

“Thank you.”

“And I have this.” Letting go of your hand, he turns on his side, searching for something under the bed. You're about to ask what he's doing when Ivar pulls up an ax, laying it on his chest. “My baby ax. Small but deadly.”

Raising an eyebrow, you giggle. “Are you really going to sleep with this on the bed?”

“Yes, I will.” He simply says, fingers tightly around the ax. “Good night, princess.”

Ivar is impossible... He's something else entirely, and this makes your smile grow wider. “Good night, prince Ivar.” Turning away from him, you get comfortable, feeling truly safe next to him.

• • •

Loud knocks on the door make you wake up abruptly, grunting and pulling the blankets closer. After some seconds of silence, the noise comes back, and you decide to check what's going on. But you're about to move when you feel a weight being pulled away from you, the warmth that made you feel so comfortable vanishing. Staying very still, you feel the bed moving a little when Ivar gets out, and you notice he had an arm around you. Blushing, you bring a hand close to your mouth, biting your index finger out of nervousness. The door opens and you recognize Aslaug's voice. Slowly, you move, trying to pretend you're waking up.

“(Y/N). Wake up, c'mon.” Is Hvitserk who calls and you finally open your eyes again and push yourself up. “Rise and shine. We have good and bad news.”

“Bad news first.” Breathing deeply, you get up to your feet. Pacing around to where Aslaug is, seated on a chair beside Ivar. He's has a light shirt on, and you kinda wished he didn't.

“Those men were seen going to your room yesterday. They kicked the door open but left when they didn't find you there.” The Queen answers, and you bring a hand to your heart. They were right, they would've hurt you. “But they were made an example of.” She continues.

“What do you mean?” You ask in a low voice.

She exchanges a look with Ivar, who smiles. It looks like he already got what she meant. “The balls, the hands, the tongue.” Aslaug shrugs her shoulders, not really bothered by it. “I was willing to let them go, but after I was told they did go to your room, I changed my mind. The three of them died quickly from blood loss and their bodies can be seen on the square. The others were allowed to leave.”

“Good,” Ivar adds, cupping his hands together. “I'd like to have done it myself, but I'll be fine just seeing the bodies.” He then looks at you. “Would you like to join me?”

“No, I... I don't wanna see naked dead bodies, thank you very much.” Muttering, you run a hand through your hair.

“Well, the threat has passed.” Aslaug stands up, gesturing for you to follow her. “Let's get you into a warm bath to help you relax and then you get to do whatever you want to.”

“Alright.” Giving a little wave to Ivar, you glance at Hvitserk, meaning you need to talk. Urgently. And you really hope he gets it.

Aslaug makes sure you do relax after last night's happening. But you feel fine, knowing they won't be around to hurt you anymore. It's a weird feeling though, knowing they're dead because of you. But then again, they were rapists, so you can't feel sorry for them. You're sure a lot of girls, wherever they were going next, will be safe now.

After bathing and having a meal with Aslaug and Ragnar, you're free to go. Ragnar told you your door has already been fixed, so you go to your room just to check if there's anything you need to fix. But everything is perfectly fine, and you know Aslaug probably took care of it. So you start looking for Hvitserk. The idiot is nowhere to be found, and you know he didn't understand your signal. You're almost giving up, leaving the main hall when you see him coming inside with Ubbe.

“Finally. I thought you died on me.” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “Hi, Ubbe. Can I speak to your brother?”

“Sure. We're already done anyway.” He nods at you and leaves.

You wait until he disappears before turning to face Hvitserk. “What do you–”

“Ivar had an arm around me.” You burst out, grabbing his arm and pulling him to one of the tables on the corner. When you sit down, you take a deep breath. “I woke up, and I felt when he removed it so I'm very, very sure.”

Hvitserk stares at you for long seconds before shrugging his shoulders. “Is there some question you need me to answer?”

“How can you be so clueless?” Whisper-yelling, you take a quick look around, just to make sure you're alone. “I need you to tell me... I need to know if...” There's no question. There's not even a hint of what exactly you need to know. “Shit.”

“Look, it's crystal clear you like Ivar.”

“I never said that.” You're quick to dissimulate, nervously giggling. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, please.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk laughs. “When Bjorn said you should stay with him, you basically vomited the words, saying you would rather be with Ivar.”

“Yeah. Ivar or you.” Reminding him, you point at his face. “So you can't use that incident as proof.”

“But you only mentioned me after long seconds of silence. And so low I barely heard it.”

“Hvitserk, I–”

“You don't have to hide it from me. We're friends, right? Everything I'll do is advice and try to help if I can.” Cutting you off, he cups his hands over the table. “I can talk to him if you want. Try to understand if he has any kind of feelings, but I don't think that's the type of thing he'd share with me. Or with anyone.”

“I know.” Looking down at your hands, you remember the things he said yesterday. Ivar has some self-esteem problems, and you know why. You never thought the legs bothered him so much, they surely don't bother you. “I don't mind if he's crippled you know... It's not a problem for me.”

“You should tell him that.”

“I will.” With a small smile, you raise your eyes to look at your friend. “I will.” You're still speaking when you hear voices coming from inside. “Someone's arguing.”

“It's my father. But I don't really stick my nose in his fights. He usually makes peace before I'm willing to.” He says and gets up. “I gotta help Ubbe. We weren't done, he was just being nice.”

“Go. I'll try to find Helga. She wants to go to buy something.”

“See you around.”

“Bye.” You mutter, drumming your fingers at the take as Hvitserk leaves. You're about to go and find Helga when the voices get louder. And you're pretty sure you heard your name. Pushing the chair away, you slowly follow the sound, careful not to make your presence known.

“...She's a princess. I thought you brought her here because of the prophecy.” An annoyed Bjorn hisses, and you hide behind the wall, holding your breath. “Now Ivar is all over her and I don't see you doing anything.”

“I wasn't thinking about the prophecy. I promised her father I'd let her go, that's why I spared her life.” Covering your heart with one hand, you furrow your eyebrows, trying to process what Ragnar just said. Why would your father want you to be kept alive? What kind of plan he had? And why would Ragnar keep the promise? “And I thought she'd have better chances here and if she didn't, I'd send her back or whatever, I wasn't thinking about what the Seer said.”

“But he did say it, didn't he? That I'm to marry a princess.”

Then that's it. That's why Bjorn approached you in the first place. He didn't like you or anything, he only did that because of some stupid prophecy.

“Look, you want the girl, go and make the girl fall in love with you. If she doesn't, that's a shame, but you're a grown man, so quit whining about it.”

“Then what? You'll let Ivar steal her from me?”

Steal? Who he thinks he is? Biting your lip, you don't even hear Ragnar's reply, anger building up. You can't just let it go, you can't let him think that. So, taking a deep breath, you step out of your hiding place, letting yourself be seen.

“Stop talking about me as if I'm a thing.” Raising your voice, you have a finger pointed at Bjorn. “I just got out of a forced marriage, and I won't marry you just because someone said something.” Ragnar steps away, clearly with no intention of intervening.

“I never–”

“I'm a free woman, haven't you heard?” You decide to remind him. “I'm free to love whoever I want, I surely don't love you!” Giving his chest a push, you storm out, finding the closest door that leads outside and walking through.

That's exactly what happened before. People made plans for you, for your future, without even consulting you. They didn't even ask, they just expected you to do as you're told. You won't have it anymore. Not here, not anywhere, from anyone.

You're walking fast, not sure where. You just need to get away from Bjorn and his stupidity. The woods soon surround you, and you climb some rocks and slopes, tears of anger blurring your sight.

All your life you've been pushed into things. The only thing you were allowed to do, that you really enjoyed, was learning about the Vikings. But just because your father admired them. All the rest, you were forced to do. You remember is clearly, the day Ecbert said he'd have you dragged down the aisle, in chains if that's what it took, to marry you to that disgusting Edward. You cried that night, made plans to run away, plans you knew would never work. Everything was lost until the Norsemen arrived. They turned everything upside down, and you have no idea how it became something good for you. A chance you never thought you'd have, a chance you won't let anyone ruin.

You stop suddenly, a crack filling your ears. Looking around, you notice you left the woods some feet behind. You're standing on ice, and the white coverage goes on for many miles ahead. Cursing yourself for not paying attention to where you were going, you turn around to go back to land, but another crack, louder this time, makes you freeze.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, the voice being dragged by the wind.

“Over he–” The ice suddenly opens, swallowing you in half a second. The cold water, too cold, makes you yell, losing most of the air left in your lungs. You feel like the cold creeps under your skin, freezing you, turning your members into ice. You can't move, as the blue surrounds you. There's nothing else in the world, and you wonder if this is where you'll spend eternity. Down here, turning into ice, in the blue. At least, it's silent, peaceful. So you close your eyes, letting the cold take over. You were ready for death when you met Ragnar. You might as well be ready now.

×

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[alilbihh]

hocus pocus — epilogue

masterlist  previous part 

pairing: maknae line x reader

summary: jungkook wags his tail and his eyes look like truffles. jimin drinks blood out of juice boxes and bendy straws and tries to wink but ends up blinking both his eyes closed. taehyung likes the ocean and all kinds of art and apologizes to rocks. you don’t know if they want to take you out the date way or the assassination way and somehow you think it’s both.

genre: werewolf!jungkook, vampire!jimin, hybrid!taehyung, witch!reader; humor (??); poly!au (in the future!)

words: 7k

"Sit still, you're making me ruin them." Taehyung whines, and you make sure to still until he nods in satisfaction.

"M'sorry." You mutter, but he just carefully kisses your wrist. You take it as answer enough.

He slowly sets your hand down on his thigh, tucking the brush into the nail polish before lifting your hand to his eyes and fixing his little mistake. He's painting your nails black, a color that was ultimately decided by Jimin. Jungkook wanted to go for pink, a choice he thinks suits your aesthetic, whatever that might mean.

Taehyung shifts a bit, the nail polish standing open and uncapped right next to him wobbling dangerously. "Careful, careful, the bedsheets," you hiss, trying not to shriek and flail your arms, "That was, like, my one condition when letting you paint my nails on my bed."

"S'fine, it won't spill, honest." He murmurs, a smile trickling up his face when you huff.

His legs are sprawled awkwardly around your hips, his feet carefully in a position where they won't bump into anything to let the painted black of his toenails dry off. It's a stark contrast to the now deep pink of his hair, but he wanted to join you regardless. Makes your heart hurt. You'd kissed him right on the nose for that.

You want to kiss his nose now, actually. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his lips are pursed into a little pout, hair falling over his eyes. You want to kiss the dip between his brows, the purse of his lips. You almost do, catch yourself leaning forward because it's-- easy. It's easy now, to act on your instincts, to not have to hold back, to want. But then you remember the context doesn't allow it, and you sit back with a huff right as he starts working on your pinkie.

Taehyung laughs fully, breaking into giggles, gently says, "hey, now," and sets your hand down to peck your lips once, twice, thrice-- pulls back with a shriek when your hands start instinctively reaching to comb through his hair and tug him back, "Hand, hand, hand, hand! Hand!"

He doesn't allow kisses anymore.

You're pouting as you watch him fix his own nails, expertly removing the now chipped, light blue color that was previously adorning them. He still has some eyeliner on, a pretty pink on his cheeks. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, purposely or not, you'll never know. There's purple peeking out on the honey of his skin, mostly hidden just under the collar of his shirt.

He's beautiful. He's beautiful, and he's your boyfriend, and you want to kiss him, goddammit.

Your hands are still carefully positioned so as to not ruin your drying nails as you shuffle closer to him, batting your lashes and waiting. It takes a few seconds of the man fighting back a smile before he pauses to turn towards you, amused, "Can I help you?"

You make a sound, like a whine and a groan all rolled into one, and maybe the word kiss gets stuck in there somewhere but you can't be too sure. Taehyung understands regardless, grins this tiny little thing that grows big, spreads both his cheeks wide.

He levels you with a look but still seems to be weighing his options. To kiss or not to kiss. "My nails," is all he ends up saying, more of a whine than anything.

You don't say anything, just stare determinedly into his eyes. He stares back, raising a brow, a challenge if you've ever seen one. You stare. There's a bit of glitter on his eyelashes, you think. Too long lashes, if you have anything to say about it. You should not be getting this overwhelmed over eyelashes.

It takes a second, then Taehyung sighs; giving in. Gives your chin a little tickle before leaning in. "M'thinking of getting a tattoo." He murmurs against your lips, presses another kiss there just because he can. His eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. "Whaddya think?"

You hum, quick and surprised, then pleased. "I'm all about letting you do things that make you happy, but just know that if you decide not to get this tattoo, I will be highly upset."

He barks out a laugh, throws his head back, a very Jimin-like gesture. "Highly?"

"Highly. Deeply." He laughs again at that and you smile, lean your head against his chest, listen as his heart beat, beat, beats-- beats faster, even, as you press a kiss to the dip of his collarbone, once then twice then thrice. "Seriously though, you'd look beautiful. If you want, go for it. Jimin and Jungkook will know all about it."

Taehyung's cheeks color as he looks down, shakes his head so his hair falls over his eyes. You laugh, suddenly thinking of peppering kisses over Jimin's own tattoo, the Nevermind sitting big and pretty over the man's ribs. Jungkook, too, the many tattoos spread over his hands and his chest and his back.

"Today's brunch day," you say, brushing Taehyung's fringe from his eyes with the palm of your hand-- with great difficulty. "You should come."

"I would, but I have work. Wanna finish my painting, too." He says, completely in pout. "I'm halfway through but I don't know if I like how it's turning out."

"I'm sure it's beautiful." You say because it's true, his paintings always are, always pretty and colorful and meaningful. He paints a lot of things. Paints Jimin, his cheeks sore from smiling. Paints Jungkook, eyes puffy with sleep. Paints you too, standing in a field of leaves painted oranges and reds, or even just doing the most mundane thing possible, like chopping up a bowl of pomegranates.

You smile at the thought, lean in to kiss the mole on his nose even while he continues, "I'll show you when I'm done. Hopefully before I maybe possibly definitely get my tattoo."

"What tattoo are you getting, anyway?"

"Not sure," He says, brows furrowed. He's carefully brushing the nail strengthener over your newly colored nails, eyes flirting here and there quick. "Maybe, like.. A peach tattooed on my ass. Or maybe just ‘property of Y/n L/n.’"

"Taehyung!" You exclaim, horrified, but he only smiles and bursts into a fit of giggles.

He leans backwards and the nail polish falls over before you even have the chance to scream, and you release a long winded shriek that only makes him laugh harder. Taehyung later offers to kiss it better and it doesn't help fix your now ruined bed sheets, but it's maybe a little nice. Maybe.

"You don't all have to come, obviously, but like-- You're all coming, right?"

"I thought he was trying to act humble for a second, wow." Jungkook says and Jimin laughs, covers it with a hand. It's so endearing you think your heart clenches for a few seconds too long.

You don't all have brunch together every day because that isn't a wise economical investment and your schedules don't always allow it and honestly, 3 pm is a bit late for brunch anyway, too late for it to be considered brunch at all, but Taehyung says it's an excuse to feast on breakfast foods and you aren't one to object to that.

So you all meet up for not-brunch sometimes, all of you together, hunched in the plush red seats in the corner of what started as Jungkook's favorite little waffle place. Taehyung and Jungkook's goal is to eat through the menu and you and Jimin are kinda just in it for the ride.

"Of course we're coming, dummy," you say with furrowed brows, "Me and Jungkook are literally in the process of making you a banner for when you do the sexy snake part."

"You're making a what."

"Noona, that was supposed to be a secret," Jungkook leans over the table to whisper, then says to Jimin, "On a completely unrelated note, hyung, do you prefer pink and yellow together, or blue and yellow together? Those were the only crayons me and Y/n could find in the store so I need to know."

"You're all insufferable."

Jimin had just recently gotten a solo act in his dance course, and so you're all obviously going to be supporting him. You’d invited Yoongi and Jin and Namjoon, too, and so they all wanted to meet him beforehand and were all delighted to finally see both Taehyung and the dance major in person.

You were a bit uncomfortable about it because you really care about them all and really wanted them to like each other. And it's difficult to be uncomfortable in Seokjin's presence because he has a third eye for when people are feeling like that, and so he usually either A: sacrifices himself for a laugh or B: exploits every weakness you have to make you even more uncomfortable to make you realize how you really shouldn't be feeling uncomfortable in the first place.

He was in a B mood that night.

("So Jimin-ah," he starts, raising his voice to gather everyone's attention, "I hear you have very soft hands."

You think Jimin had turned to you for an explanation but you'd been shoving the equivalent of three lettuce wraps into your mouth to avoid speaking. That and you'd hidden behind Yoongi, but it's kind of difficult considering he'd been slouching his entire life and had practically made it into an art form.

Namjoon lets out a few semi-embarrassed ha-ha's on his boyfriend's behalf.

"Do I?" Jimin mumbles, prodding at his own hand.

"Can I feel?" Jin says, making grabby hands in Jimin's direction even though they met all of thirty minutes ago.)

"Hey, it's horny boy!" Jungkook greets with a snicker as Taehyung (rather reluctantly) trudges towards your table, plastering the customary customer service smile. It's supposed to look forced but it looks too soft on him, you think. Too fond.

You catch his eye, catch him trying to hold back a smile. To pretend he's not associated with any of you, most likely.

He's wearing his work uniform, long black pants and a flannel shirt with a little shirt pocket. There are feather earrings drooping on his ears that go long, almost reach his shoulder blades, tickle his neck. There are fairy lights circling his antlers, and it was meant to be festive in the beginning but it's mid march and he's still adamant on using it. Something about how Christmas lives on in his heart.

Taehyung looks one way then the other, as if to survey his surroundings, before bumping your hip with his as a gesture for you to scooch over. You comply, the hybrid settling beside you on the rather comfy cushion, proceeding to immediately kick Jungkook from beneath the table.

There's a yell and a laugh and then the two are playing footsie rather aggressively, Jungkook sinking in his seat and everything while ignoring the rather distressed Jimin beside him. You're all causing a public embarrassment but you're all laughing so you can't quite bring yourself to care.

Jimin turns to you, deadpans, "Do you know them?"

"Absolutely not."

He takes a long sip of his boba, as if to contemplate, then says, "Should we stop them?"

"Absolutely not." You both grin.

It stops eventually, Jungkook making soft little whines as he crosses his arms indignantly. Taehyung giggles and leans over the table to kiss him and makes a big show of it, too-- puckering his lips the closer he gets. They giggle into each other's mouths and you feel an overwhelming fondness swell up inside you, pushing up, up, until you're grinning and it hurts to breathe.

"What were you guys talking about when I wasn't here?" He asks, pauses. Smacks his lips together for a second, turns to Jungkook in question, "Are you wearing lip balm?"

"Yeah," Jungkook says as if it's obvious, "Always gotta be prepared."

"Hm. Cherry?"

"Strawberry, actually."

"Nice." They fist bump. "What were we saying?"

You snort, "We were talking about the sexy snake before you got here."

Taehyung makes a noise, swallowing his drink quickly before he says, "The sexy snake! He's always practicing it at home. Whenever I walk in it always looks like he's doing something nasty to the ground."

"Well you always walk in at the wrong time!" The man in question says, indignant, chugging down his boba to not have to look you all in the eye. "I don't know why you all call it the sexy snake, anyway. I don't look like a snake." You laugh when he leaves out the sexy part.

"You kinda do." Jungkook says, voice a bit muffled, the straw of his boba still between his lips.

"It's something like this," Taehyung does this little wiggle in his seat, meant to copy the infamous sexy snake, and it looks all kinds of awkward but you and Jungkook giggle anyway and he grins big.

Jimin purses his lips, as if to keep himself from laughing, then says, "I don't look like that. Y/n, I don't look like that, right?"

"No thoughts head empty."

"Y/n!"

It's then you're all arriving home, Jimin tripping over the stairs with a giggle, Taehyung trying to convince you to get waffles with him tomorrow as you turn just enough to watch him, to feel your heart swell with every word. Jungkook, his hand spread over your back, giving your bum a few pats when you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek.

You don't know what it is, but you feel--alive. More alive than usual. You're not sure how to explain it to someone if they were to ask, but these days you've been almost painfully aware that you're a person, and that you're alive. Grounded. Very of the Earth. Very aware of every little thing that's happening to you, as if you hadn't been paying attention before.

You turn up the heat of the oven, the concoction bubbling and popping and gurgling in the cauldron as you stir. When you raise a spoonful to your mouth, you taste nectar and ambrosia, peaches and pomegranates. Taste something that's a little dry, too.

You pour it in an empty wine bottle you'd kept for this exact occasion and walk back to your living room. "Look guys, I made wine with everything except grapes! I'm practically Jesus."

Jimin's the first to laugh. First to make grabby hands in your general direction, too. "Gimme."

You hand the vampire the bottle, about to turn around and grab a few glasses lying around somewhere until Jimin drinks it straight out the bottle and that's that.

"Can you teach me how to make this later, love?" He asks as you settle beside him, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. Jungkook's making surprisingly quiet conversation with Taehyung, but turns just enough to raise a leg to rest over yours. You giggle and he pinches you, but you think he's smiling before he looks away.

"I would but it's kinda hard. Doesn't always turn out the way it's supposed to, either, unless it wants to."

"I hate magic." Jimin mumbles against your neck, pressing a kiss there just because. "It's so finicky."

"Why would you say that to a literal witch," You say, mildly offended, but he only giggles.

Then. Then you're all sat around the couch, laughing and drinking homemade wine until Taehyung makes a face after his first sip and settles for Jungkook's banana juice instead. A sober icon.

(There's touches too, tender ones, warm ones that settle in the pit of your stomach. Jimin, a hand under the hem of your and Taehyung's sweaters to pet at your waistbands, at your stomachs. Jungkook settled over you all, head on your thigh and legs on Taehyung's, much to the hybrid's initial despair.

"Massage my feet, hyung."

"Absolutely not."

Taehyung, shuffling over Jimin to press his lips to the back of your neck, a deep, almost guttural rumble sounding against your back in an almost-purr.)

You sit there amidst it all, taking it all in, hoping to keep this safe, keep it somewhere with a lock and key.

Jungkook noses against your stomach, mutters a mantra softly under his breath you think sounds like mate, mates, home--and you want to keep this. Want to keep this for a long, long time. And you think you just might.

Everything is loud and encased in a bright, neon light, surrounded by the people you love, but that fact becomes debatable as you think you catch Jin's tall figure doing some sort of dance somewhere in the crowd and maybe Taehyung in the middle of a circle of people, the man chugging down a bag of gummy bears. You can't be too sure though.

It's the day after Jimin's performance, and the song he danced to has been playing on loop for the past fifteen minutes, maybe. Jimin laughed at first when he realized, but you think by now everyone's getting tired of it but no one has the heart to stop anything.

You think the man of the hour is-- somewhere, maybe helping Namjoon pour the drinks, maybe chugging down gummy bears with Taehyung or slow dancing with Jungkook completely out of rhythm, but you spin on your stool and look up when you hear footsteps and smile as a hand softly cups your cheek.

"M'love. Pretty. I've been looking for you," Jimin coughs, then, and he looks-- beautiful. A white flannel shirt tucked into faded black ripped jeans, round glasses sitting crookedly on the bridge of his nose, hair disheveled like there was someone running their hands through it. He's smiling big and wide and kind of sloppy at the edges and he looks kind of ridiculous, but he's cupping your cheek and calling you pretty and you can't help but smile just as wide.

"Hello," you murmur, take a hold of his hands, and for a second it feels like everything stills, just you and Jimin sitting in this pretty little world. "What've you been up to? Did you drink? You look like you drank."

He does look a bit drunk, but you know that can't be true because Jimin can down vodka like it's water and does so with an effortlessness you will never possess, not to mention he's a vampire, but-- he looks just a tad bit drunk. Drunk on something more intangible, maybe.

"Hey, Y/n," he starts, like he just thought of it and it's the best idea he's ever had, "Let's make out."

You cough only twice before bursting into laughter, and Jimin looks nothing if not pleased with himself. "No, you absolute bimbo."

"Why not?" He all but whines, swinging your intertwined hands around, arms flailing, "I wanna do it. Right now. This second."

Jimin leans in teasingly and you think you catch both Jungkook and Taehyung doing kissy faces in the background somewhere, and when he does kiss you it's messy and sloppy and you're both smiling and it's-- practically all teeth, really, but there's something nice about it, something tender.

He starts tracing your jawline with gentle fingertips when you both pull away, and you kiss the pads of his fingers when they hover close to your lips, watch as Jimin draws in a breath, deep and shuddering.

It takes a second, then-- "Jesus, you can't just do that," he breathes out, coming to right as he steps between your legs, taking the sides of your face between his hands, gently caressing the under of your eyes.

You're-- still on your stool, still in the middle of a crowded apartment, all with people you know and love but maybe that only serves to fluster you more. "Jimin," you hiss, probably too red, too flushed under his tender gaze and others' prying eyes. Seokjin and Hoseok's especially, those nosy bastards. "Not here!"

"Why not? Why can't I kiss my lover?" Hands are tugging at your face, tracing your chin, pulling you in; more gentle now, as if to let you pull away if you want.

"Our other boyfriends are literally judging us as we speak." Jungkook is filming you two from a distance now, and Taehyung is standing right beside him, laughing too hard at something he said. You don't want to know.

"Let them, they can join us if they want."

"Jimin!" You're horrified, to say the least.

And then Jimin is laughing, and the sound melts you down to your bones, human fondue. And then- and then--

Then he's pulling you off your stool, turning to gesture something to Taehyung who immediately understands, the hybrid answering with a nod and a thumbs up. Soulmate culture, if you may.

Then he's leading you up the small set of stairs you'd walked through so many times before- past a frantic Namjoon who looks to have some frosting in his hair- going up, up, looking back only to check on you, to kiss your knuckles.

Then he's clicking open his bedroom door, ushering you inside by the small of your back. The door closes softly behind you, and you're faced with a bedroom that's so terribly Jimin that you kinda ache a bit. You'd been here before-- just this morning, too, maybe-- but it always catches you by surprise, leaves you feeling terribly soft for this boy, for all your boys.

"Are those my socks on the floor?" Is the first thing you say.

Jimin kicks your socks under his bed right before your eyes. "No," He drawls.

You laugh and he smiles at the sound, the vampire taking one step closer, then two-- immediately reaching for you once he's close enough to touch, hands trailing gently from your shoulders down to your hips. "Taehyung and Guk should be here soon, I told Tae to bring drinks. And those gummy worms stashed under the sink. Maybe a sandwich, while he's at it."

"How did you-" You sputter, "You showed him, like, a peace sign, how did you give him that much amount of info in the span of two seconds?"

Jimin smiles, drags his bottom lip through his teeth like he's holding back a laugh before shrugging, and— well. You'll get it out of him one day.

You trace the arch of his brow, the slope of his nose, the dip above his lips. He's the one to kiss the pads of your fingers this time. He hums something soft, scrunches his nose to urge his glasses higher.

"You should wear glasses more often, I like them." You say as Jimin takes them off-- to kiss you properly, you think cheekily-- watch as he places them on a nearby table.

"They make me look stupid."

"No, they don't. You're cute with them."

"Am I cute without them?" He grins, cheeky.

"Stop fishing for compliments."

He giggles and rests his forehead on yours, eyes half lidded and wide and brimming with so much open adoration that you surprise yourself by reaching out, hooking your fingers through his belt loops to pull him in close to taste again. Jimin crowds in closer still, stepping in closer until you're almost touching but not quite. Not enough.

Jimin's voice rumbling beside your ear as he murmurs your name, Jimin's thumbnails dragging softly over your spine, Jimin's lips pressing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

The man draws in a breath, "God, you're so—" he trails off, pressing kisses to your neck, knuckles stroking along the side of your jaw so tenderly you ache.

It takes a second, then you feel sharp teeth dragging over the skin of your neck, and you shiver-- Jimin immediately pulling away with a low curse. "Shit, I'm sorry, m'love," he covers his mouth with a hand, cheeks flushed. His fangs are gone when his hand lowers. "Can't control them sometimes."

"S'okay." You say almost breathlessly, your mind reeling, still trying to catch up with the rest of your body as Jimin flattens his weight against you, pressing you against the wall, a hand cupping the back of your head. His fingertips trail down the side of your face and you—feel. You feel so much, all at once.

He crowds in close, a breadth over your lips, "Wanna keep going?"

"Wait," you gesture for him to look at you, and he does-- or maybe he was already looking, never stopped. "I'm really proud of you, hm? We're all really proud of you."

You cup his cheeks and he's suddenly shy, grinning wide and pretty pretty pretty.

You both stay like that for a long while, you think; lazy kisses and lazy touches, lazy words and lazy smiles that linger and go long, leave you both breathless and giggly.

There's light streaming in through an open window, pink and gold reflecting onto Jimin's skin. There's a distant smell of old books and earl grey tea, of sweet cologne and newly washed sweaters. There's laughter on your tongue and you can taste his smile and you no longer long for a place that doesn't exist because it-- does. It does exist, maybe it always did. And you found it, right here, and it's beautiful.

Then there's a soft creaking and soft footsteps and soft laughter, more hands reaching to touch and that's. That's love, too. "I can't believe this," Jungkook starts, huffing out a laugh, "They left us to make out. They really did it. This is—blasphemy."

"I bet you don't even know what that words means." Taehyung snickers, even as Jungkook retorts with a little punch to the hybrid's shoulder.

A harmless little fight threatens to burst forth and Jimin steps away from you to physically restrain Taehyung from swinging his antlers around like a madman. "I never want thing one and thing two around me again." You deadpan to yourself.

Jungkook blinks, turning towards you with a halfhearted fist still hovering midair, "Wait, which one am I?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea, I don't really wanna see them either." Jimin nods, hands literally cupping Taehyung's cheeks as he says it.

"Noona. Am I thing one or two?"

"We should probably kick them out." You contemplate. Jimin hums, kissing Taehyung's cheeks now.

"Which one am I, noona? Noona—"

You're happy now, and you hope to be happy in the future. And that will be love, too.

"Hey," A little whisper sounds against your ear and you turn, a flash going off before you can throw your hands up to hide. You make a face at that and another snap goes off along with Jungkook's giggle and you realize you're fighting a losing battle.

You're in Yoongi's greenhouse to restock the mugwort and rosemary, the faerie tending to a rosebush and cutting of the stems. They're a little fussy so you don't want to disturb him.

Jimin and Taehyung are huddled by a tree trunk trying to feed a one-legged bird, and sometimes rainwater will drip down your nose even though the outlines of the clouds overhead are delicate, their edges blurring into blue. You can guess how far you are from the shoreline from the scent of the ocean.

Wind kicks up in your hair. It takes a second, then you hear another snap.

You dig your hands into the earth, feel dirt sticking to your nail beds as you frown, "Shouldn't you be taking pictures of something else?"

Jungkook lowers the camera enough for you to see his eyes shaped into little crescents. Out of spite, probably, he takes another picture.

You make the motion as if to stand ad leave but his hand shoots to your wrist to gently tug you back, giggling a drawled out "no!"

Taehyung turns just then, sees you both and a wondrously slow grin spreads just like that. Another snap.

The hybrid gestures for you to come closer and you stand quick, brush yourself off, grab a hold of one of Jungkook's arms and attempt to pull him up with brute strength. He doesn't move an inch, but laughs at your attempts anyway.

It always feels different being together. Watching Taehyung press a wet, sloppy kiss to your and Jungkook's forehead and Jungkook trying to kick him and Jimin laughing and then a snap of a camera before the vampire can react and complain because Jimin, for someone who likes to be seen, strangely doesn't like to be seen. Jungkook takes photos of him anyway, because Jimin is one of the most beautiful people you know.

Being together is different. Everything feels different when you're together, like there's not a thing that's missing, like everything you could ever want is right here.

"Y/n-ah, you should take us here more often," Taehyung says as he spins in a circle, arms outstretched as if he could hold the whole neighborhood in his arms if he wanted. The whole world.

You watch him spin and spin and spin and feel a little grin tugging at your lips, "What's so great about all this?"

He almost trips but catches himself on a thin tree and starts twirling around that instead, "Plants don't grow like this just anywhere," he says, stops abruptly. There are leaves stuck to his hair, and Jimin giggles before plucking them off one by one. He continues, "They didn't grow like this because of the magic, either. They grew like they've been loved."

Taehyung's got his head tipped up, like he's looking for constellations even though it's midday. He takes a step forward and his antlers get stuck on a tree branch and he yelps and you're all laughing even as he screams dramatically.

Yoongi then decides to waddle towards you and says you're all disturbing the petunias, so with little to no persuasion you convince him to hand some of the things you needed in the first place before gathering your things and heading home.

Jimin and Taehyung fall into step behind you, seemingly not even noticing they're supposed to be going to their own home but you don't comment as they walk inside completely uninvited. (But completely welcome.)

Jimin whines a little at the dirt on his clothes so you rummage through Jungkook's closet and know it will be a bit too big on him but it will have to do. You find three spare 99 cent toothbrushes in a pack of ten in the cabinet under the sink and have no idea who bought them or what happened to the other seven of them.

It all feels a little bit dreamy, you think; Jungkook closing the window in case it rains and Taehyung curling in small on the couch, making sleepy sounds with a hand resting on your thigh, lashes tickling your cheek as he leans in to press little kisses to your nose and your upper lip. Jimin hovers over you both and bites his lip, a nervous habit he doesn't know about. A purposeful action he does to get what he wants. You haven't figured out which yet.

Jimin makes grabby hands. You face Taehyung with as blank of an expression as you can muster, then say, "I don't know, Tae, what do you say we do?"

"I don't know..." he drawls, Daegu accent tugging at the vowels, a hand stroking at the soft skin of your belly, "Is this the part we ignore him and make out or something?"

Jimin, with one swift leap, plops himself on top of you both even as you all shriek and Taehyung yells a distant "Whose leg is this?!" followed by a low oof. You think that's when Jungkook plops himself on all three of you and all the breath leaves your lungs completely.

It's strangely domestic, they way you're all giggling even as Jungkook starts brushing his teeth with two of his toothbrushes and Taehyung spits a little bit, tooth paste dribbling down his chin, and you think Jimin chokes a little bit, too. You don't think you've ever been endeared by something so stupid but you wouldn't trade this for anything.

You all play rock paper scissors to determine who gets the middle, and Jimin wins with a victorious whoop but Taehyung says he was in the middle last time so they hand the win over to you. (Jungkook suggests you take turns next time and that's an idea you can definitely agree with so that's a topic for discussion for later.)

So then you're all squeezing into this bed that's much too big for four people, and you're a bit smug as you settle in the middle before Jungkook presses his cheek to your stomach with Jimin behind him and Taehyung on your other side and you all manage to make do.

"Ow! Tae-hyung, what the heck?"

"I didn't mean to pinch you! So wait, whose leg is this?"

"That would be me," you mutter.

"Oh." He says, then pinches you, too.

Your eyes start to droop as they start making quiet conversation; not about anything particular, but then Taehyung starts talking about what it's like to live with Jimin and dramatizes how romantic it is until Jimin pipes up saying they'd spent Valentine's day playing Minecraft last year, and Jungkook laughs so hard he snorts and does that thing where he starts randomly slapping people's shoulders.

They check up on you too, sometimes, pressing little kisses to your exposed skin with whispers of you awake, baby? and go to sleep, little love, and you're so pretty, noona-- and it's all a pretty dream, you decide. You'll stay here in this pretty dream and listen while the three tell you pretty things.

You feel Taehyung tug lightly at your hair, and you turn to face him and he grins so softly you turn to mush. His fingers stroke low on your waistband, your hipbone, and you feel him pull you closer before he even does, lifts you with a happy hum and then you're kissing and kissing and kissing, lips catching over and over until you're warm and pliant and melted into Jungkook.

"Pretty," Jungkook sighs, crawling up higher to press kisses to the nape of your neck, pull you flush against him.

Taehyung kisses you soft and sweet and then not so sweet but slow slow slow, just the way he likes to be kissed. Your hand reaches to cup his cheek and tilt his head just so, trace his jaw, tug at his hair to hear his breath hitch.

Jimin, with a deadpanned voice, says, "Well, this is fun," and you snort into Taehyung's mouth as he half-laughs, half-shrieks, then you all pile onto the vampire to tickle him and it's a mess and an even bigger mess when you almost knock him off the bed.

There's something nice about knowing that you'll wake up to all this tomorrow, to feather soft touches and lingering kisses. You like all your mornings with them, even the hectic ones, with toast crumbs and rushing around Yeontan and strings of panicked I'm late, shit, I'm—can you, will you—and lingering touches that shouldn't linger because you're all late.

But this is gentle, tender. Push too hard and it hurts because everything is exposed and vulnerable kind of tender.

You press a kiss goodnight to each of them, playfully slap Jimin's chest when he tries to keep you close and blow raspberries into Jungkook's mouth when he tries to tickle you, too, and when you move to kiss Taehyung's knuckles you smile at the little tattooed moon on his inner wrist, and you realize that you want to kiss it. Realize, too, that you are so deeply in love you don't know what to do with all of it.

So you kiss it. And you kiss him. And everything is warm.

"You look different these days," Seokjin murmurs, gaze more focused on squeezing the little plastic ketchup onto his french fries. Empty packets are already starting to pile around his plate, and his arm is kind of shaking from the strain, and it's. A little funny. You pinch the soft spot of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing.

"If you're just going to call me ugly, Jin, then just save it." You say, pretend to be annoyed, down some more of your drink like it's vodka.

"That's not what I meant at all! I'm saying something happened," he takes one sweeping look over your bundled frame and announces proudly, "You got laid! Holy shit. I never thought I'd see the day. My baby's growing up."

Namjoon nearly chokes beside him, looks around frantically, "Hyung, we're in public. Also, please never call Y/n that ever again."

"But it's true. You're all my babies," He announced without chagrin, popping a fry into his mouth. Namjoon attempts to look smaller, then mumbles a small prayer towards the ceiling.

"I didn't get laid." You deadpan, cupping a hand over your mug. You mutter a small incantation and feel it warm in your palm.

Seokjin continues his coos as Namjoon reaches over the table to clap your back, either as a form of support or an apology, you'll never know.

"You should ask them to move in, I'm sure they'll say yes," Jin continues, chewing thoughtfully.

"I've only been dating them for like three months." You say, but only receive a shrug in response.

"That's, like, a year in Y/n time."

"That doesn't make sense."

"You're right. Six months in Y/n time. Maybe seven."

You groan.

Namjoon then starts talking about the concept of time, which leads into the concept of beauty, which segways into a heated debate about toxic masculinity in the beauty industry, and then suddenly you're sitting amidst a conversation about gender norms and queer theory and it's. Too much.

Seokjin turns to you when he notices you've been quiet for too long, "Y/n-ah? You okay? Is this about the whole getting laid thing? I wasn't actually serious! Mostly."

"No," you say, feeling small suddenly, "'M just happy."

“Oh.” His eyes soften. "Good. That's good. Yoongi-chi said so, too."

Your heart warms. Warms at the thought that there are friends looking out for you, careful and caring, friends that notice when you're fine, notice when you're not. It grows a bit overwhelming sometimes, this small little reassurance you have, tucked away from prying eyes in a place where everything is soft. Little reassurance that says these, these-- these are the kinds of people I want to keep close.

"Yeah," You smile, say again but softer, "Yeah."

"Ask 'em to move in," Namjoon hums, "It'll be good for you all."

"Hey, Jungkook?" You ask one night when you two have been up too long, and it's late enough for words to spill more easily as if drunk. The werewolf hums and you continue, "Do you wanna move in?"

Jungkook stills and you feel something like bile start to surface up, up, but then he giggles and pats blindly at the mattress until he finds your hand and laces your fingers together.

"We're already roommates, Noona."

"I know, but like," you pause and peel open an eye and find Jungkook's gaze in the dark and he's already looking at you. You wonder if he'd ever looked away. "But like-- move in, you know? Like, boyfriend move in, because we weren't dating when you did move in, and—Don't look at me like that! You know what I mean!"

He's smiling, amused and fond, then says, "Are you gonna make me write a proper lease? Are you a nice landlord?"

"Forget I said anything."

"No," he drawls with a whine, giggles when you shift and turn so you're facing the other way. His hand snakes up your shirt, a finger trailing down the dip in your back. His nose tickles your neck as he continues, "Come back, noona. Baby."

He says it the same way he did before, when you'd first kissed and were both pretending it hadn't happened. Even before that, too. Saying it like it means something else.

Jungkook pulls you so that you're facing him and then you're nose to nose and he's grinning unabashedly, "Noona, I would love to boyfriend move in with you." He says adamantly, then he's pulling you in and tugging you close and kissing you hard, biting your lips cherry red until he slows and it's soft, soft, soft.

When you're both pulling back with droopy eyes and lazy touches is when you curl in small, feel him peppering kisses over your collarbone, "Can our boyfriends boyfriend move in with us, too?"

And then you look up and he's grinning big and soft and shy and-- Jungkook. "Yeah," he breathes, something deep and shuddering, "I'd like that a lot."

("Does this mean I can husband move in with you one day, too?"

"Go to sleep Guk," you say, hushed, then whisper, "That sounds nice."

You feel his smile on your neck and your heart soars up, up, up.)

There are new flowers on the table.

They're pretty, reds and purples and pinks dissolving into white. You smile, murmur sweet nothings to the one drooping outside the vase, watch as it perks slowly into place, petals fluttering. You'll make sure to sprinkle something on them later, help them stay for maybe a few weeks more. It's sweet, smells a bit like honey and marmalade.

"Peonies," you muse to yourself. You'd have to thank Jimin later. You can feel that Jungkook's a little calmer than usual, all safe and warm somewhere close, so maybe you won't have to wait long.

Footsteps pad softly over the creaking floorboards, and you turn to a sleepy Taehyung trudging towards you, rubbing at his eyes.

"Do you like peonies?" Taehyung asks as he watches you gently tuck the flowers into a vase, placing it somewhere where you can see, where the whole world can see.

You think for a long while, tracing a hand lightly over the petals, watch as they melt into your touch. The room gets warmer. It's always like that these days, you think-- warm, warm, warm.

Today, just outside, there are dandelions growing through cracks in the sidewalk. There's an old couple sitting by their porch holding hands. There’s a lizard resting in the morning sun, trying to grow a new tail. There is life. And you're learning to love yours quite a bit, too.

"Yeah," you say, not quite looking at him but you don't need to. He knows. Always does, really. "I think I do."

a/n: this is the end folks :( I’m gonna miss this bumbling trio :(( i’d like to thank u all so much for all the support on this lil series, hopefully this ending is satisfactory djksjd?? i might maybe write some drabbles for them at some point tho!! this was plotless and had like zero angst this is my level of longing for romance. ty for reading g’day

[moonlitwings1]

Pumpkin Patch

“That one’s too small, Billy,” Max huffs, turning her head back to focus on the pumpkin in front of her. “You can’t carve on that.”

“The fuck you know about pumpkin sizes?”

“Ms. Cris said it has to have a large enough surface so it’ll be easy to carve.”

“Then get that one,” Billy says, pointing to a large yellow pumpkin. He was getting impatient, it’s been ten minutes now, just waiting around for Max to choose a fucking pumpkin. They’ve been looking at row after row of pumpkins. Not to mention that he’s freezing his ass off. He’s wearing a button down with most of the buttons popped open, so that’s not helping his case, but if he’s going to freeze to death, might as well look hot while doing so. 

Max turns to look at the pumpkin he’s pointing at, and sighs like she’s tired of his shit, which pisses him off immediately. If anyone’s tired of anyone’s shit, it’s him. “That’s the ugliest color, Billy.” She’s not wrong. It was an pasty yellow color. 

“Don’t care. You’ve got 10 seconds to chose a pumpkin or we’re leaving without,” he says, already starting to push past her. 

“Wait! How about this one?” she asks, pointing at the one she was just examining. Without hesitation, he grabs the pumpkin and holds it under his arm like a football. 

“Great. Let’s go.” 

After paying for it, he takes Max by the arm and leads her to the car, hitting the gas before she even closes the door completely. 

“You’re going to help me carve it out, right?” 

His head snaps over to her. “What the fuck? No.”

“Mom said-”

“I don’t care what your mom said. I’m telling you no.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees her toss her head up in frustration, banging it against the headrest.

“I’m not allowed to carve it without an adult, Billy!”

“You’re 14. I’m sure you can handle a knife fine.” 

“Tell my mom that!”

He doesn’t bother to reply, choosing to focus on the icy roads ahead of him. Dangerous to speed on, but that’s not going to stop him. He hears her let out a high-pitched noise that sounds awfully like a whine. He can’t help the snort that comes out. This is a dumb thing for her to get frustrated about. 

“Please, Billy. I need it for school tomorrow. I promise it’ll be fun. We can decorate it and stuff. I’ll even give you part of the prize if I win.”

“Prize?”

“Yeah! They give a candy basket each year to the winners. I’ll give you all the chocolates if you help me.” She’s talking faster now that she realizes she’s gotten his attention, only a matter of time before he loses interest. 

“You’ll give me all the chocolates and I don’t have to drive you anywhere for a week if you win.” 

She hesitates at that, mulling it over. “Deal. But you actually have to help me, not just sit there.”

He snorts. “We’ll see.”

-----

They started with gutting the pumpkin first. Billy had pulled a large, white sheet over the table so Susan won’t blow a gasket when they inevitably spill pumpkin guts all over it. 

"Go grab a knife, Max,” he says, watching as she rushes to do what she’s told. It’s amusing watching her scramble for it. He’s pretty sure she’s scared that one wrong move will get him to ditch the project. She’s not wrong. 

He grabs the knife from her and starts carving out the top. Max stands there silently while watching, ready to do anything he says. His little apprentice. Ironic since this is supposed to her project. 

“You know what you’re going to carve this into?” 

Max shuffles her feet. “Um, I have a skull stencil we can use. I wanted to make one that looks like your tattoo.”

He grunts at that, too focused on cutting the top open.

“It doesn’t have a cigarette tho,” she presses on. “I was thinking we could stick one of yours in the middle of it.”

“So you want me to help you with this dumb shit and give you one my cigarettes that I paid for with my own goddamn money?” 

“...Yes?” 

“Not a chance in hell,” he smirks, pulling at the stem. 

“But-”

“Got it open,” he says triumphantly, holding the stem out in front of her. “Go get some ice scream scoops.”

She clambers away and comes back with two in hand along with a bowl. He takes the bowl from her and gets to work, nudging her to do the same. In 10 minutes, they’ve gotten the pumpkin pretty scraped down. 

“Ew. Look at all the guts,” she says, poking at the bowl. 

“Save them. Maybe Susan’ll want to make use of it.”

Max nods. “I’ll get the stencils.”

He’ll let Max do the tracing herself. If he’s being honest, his arm hurts from all that scooping. Getting the top off the pumpkin put strain on his arm. It's harder than it looks, ok? 

He hoists himself up from the rickety chair under him and pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. “I’m going out to smoke,” he mumbles as he passes Max in hallway. He doesn’t wait for her reply before pushing the door open and slipping outside. 

---

“Billy!” he hears Max shout from the inside. “I’m finished!”

Ten minutes pass too fast, he thinks. Sighing, he flicks the cigarette butt onto the driveway below him. He’ll probably get shit for that later. He walks back in to see Max focusing with her tongue sticking out from between her teeth, fixing the messy edges with a marker. He reaches out to ruffle her hair, chuckling when she tries to shove his hand off of her. 

“What’s next, shitbird?” 

“We have to carve it now, dumbass. What do you think?” 

He scowls at her for a long moment before flicking her nose. “Lose the attitude.”

“Ow, Billy!” she whines, rubbing her nose with one hand and pushing him with the other. “That hurt.” Whiney bitch. He didn’t even do it that hard. 

“Hand me the knife.” She gives him a glare before shoving the knife into his hand. He has zero experience in pumpkin carving so this won’t turn out well. Especially since Max didn’t want to help him by choosing an easy design. The skull she had drawn on seems simple enough, but it has way too many teeth to carve individually. He’s not too worried about it though; he’ll just make some adjustments. 

Max sits beside him and watches him, her chin resting on the table. "Do we have candles?” 

“Probably. Why? You can’t bring them to school unless you want to start a fire.”

“I know, but I want to put one inside the pumpkin when halloween actually comes,” she says. “It’ll look spooky to trick or treaters.”

Billy looks up at her. “You’re still allowed to go trick or treating?” Max got grounded a couple days ago for sneaking out when Neil was home. For all his talk about respect and responsibility, he can’t even watch his own step-daughter. 

“No,” she sighs. “I wish. That’s why I wanna win this. So I can still have more candy than all my friends without even going trick-or-treating.”

He stares at her for a moment. There’s no way she’s serious. When she just glares at him harder, eyes squinted, he laughs. “That’s why you want to win? So you can have more candy than all your little friends? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today.” Sometimes he forgets that Max is just a kid that stresses about dumb kid stuff. 

“’s not stupid,” she mumbles, but it sounds weak. “I just want candy.”

“Couldn’t tell,” he chuckles, bringing his focus back to the task at hand. One wrong move, and it’ll turn into shit. 

----

...many wrong moves later...

“Maybe we could put a hat on to cover it up?”

The pumpkin looked horrifying and not in the intended way. The eyes and nose were ok, a little too boxy, but they weren’t terrible. But the teeth. Oh, the teeth. He could say it was  an artistic choice but even that wouldn’t be able to excuse it. 

“Hat’s not going to do shit to cover up the front, dumbass.”

“Well it’ll distract from...all that,” she says, hands motioning towards the pumpkin. 

“You know, this is your fault for making the stencil so detailed.”

She turns to look at him, mouth agape, indignant. He wishes he could take a picture of that face and frame it. “Wha--my fault?! It’s your fault for not being able to follow the stupid stencil!” 

“Who puts teeth on a jack o'lantern, Max? Jack o'lanterns don’t have teeth. They have fucking gaps in their mouth.” 

“Well, it wasn’t supposed to look like a jack o'lantern. It was supposed to be a skull but you botched it,” she huffs, crossing her arms across her body. “Now it looks like a skull that needs braces...or dentures. You made a grandma skull.”

Normally, he’d see red with an ungrateful, bratty attitude like that, but even he has to agree with her. Laughing, he replies, “True. Ya got me there, but why the fuck did you think I’d be able to carve tiny fucking teeth?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs, dropping her arms. “I guess I thought you had potential or whatever.”

“Now why the fuck would you think that?”

She laughs. A genuine one too, and try as he might, he can’t push aside the pride that fills his chest from making her laugh.

She shrugs, “Good question.” 

They sit there in silence for a minute, admiring their monstrosity. Billy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. 

“Go get a piece of tape. If we’re going to have a grandma skull, might as well make it a badass one.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to give me a cigarette that you paid for with your own ‘goddamn money,’” she snarks, putting words into air quotes. 

He scowls at her. “You better get that tape quickly before I change my mind.”

She rolls her eyes before leaving in search of tape. Ungrateful brat. She comes rushing back with a piece of tape on her finger that he snatches up. He sticks the cigarette on the lower part of the mouth and tapes it down. Still looks shitty. 

“Wait!” Max says, looking like she just had a lightbulb moment. “I could say this is what happens when you smoke.” 

“Maxine, what the fuck.”

“What? It’ll be a lesson to all the students, and my teachers’ll will be impressed. Isn’t teeth rotting a side affect of smoking? That would work for this. Also, just so you know, rotting teeth isn’t the only side affect. There’s also the risk of bad breath, lung damage, yellowing eyes...” she goes on, counting on her fucking fingers for God’s sake. 

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” 

She grins at it him. “What? I’m just saying how it is. You should quit. Maybe that’ll help your bad breath.” 

Billy scoffs. He does not have bad breath. That little bitch is making shit up, and she didn’t look a bit remorseful. That’ll change soon enough. “You gonna apologize for that?” 

She snorts, “No.”

Ok then. “You better start running, Max.”

“What?”

“Five, four...” Max looks at him in horror, eyes wide. 

“Billy, it was just a joke.”

“Three...”

“I’m sorry?” Well, too late for her apology now. 

He stands up, looking down at his watch for dramatic purposes. “Two...” The count down seems to be working because right as he was about to say one, she sprints off towards the direction of her room. He cackles before chasing after her, but it’s just for show. Her reaction made it worth it. Max is squealing like a little kid, reaching for her door and closing it right before letting out a final high-pitched scream. 

“ASSHOLE,” she yells. 

“SHITBIRD,” he yells back, holding back laughter.

---

The next day, he drives Max to school with the pumpkin held securely in her lap. 

“You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” she laughs. “Have you seen it? It’s too ugly to win.”

“No candy for you then, huh?” 

He sees her shrug from the corner of his eye. “Probably not. But I don’t really care anymore. My friends’ll give me their shitty leftovers.”

“You’re still sharing with me, though. And I don’t have to drive you anywhere today.”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember.”

----

High school ends 30 minutes before the middle school so that leaves Billy sitting in the car, waiting for Max. He looks at his watch. If he leaves now, he’ll be able to make it to the convenience store and back in about 20 minutes. He wants to pick up some candy. Not for Max. No. Halloween’s tonight. It’s best to be prepared. Neil was probably going to go tell him to pick some up anyways. 

Mind set, he starts up the car and heads off to Melvald’s, grabbing two large packs of candy. The labels listed different types of chocolate. He thinks about Max always begging him to pick up a chocolate bar for her when he goes to get gas. Max likes chocolate...but he’s getting chocolate because it’s popular, not because of her. Everyone likes chocolate, right? He’s sure the trick-or-treaters will be incredibly delighted.  

He tosses the two bags of candy into the backseat before heading off to pick up Max. 

---

“Any luck?” he asks, pushing the passenger side door open from where he’s sitting since Max’s hands are full, holding the pumpkin in one hand and her skateboard in the other. 

“No,” she grumbles, getting into the car, and shutting the door. “Some prissy girl won first place for her stupid princess pumpkin.”

“Sounds lame.” He didn’t expect her to win. That grandma pumpkin was mediocre at best. 

“It was.” She lets out a sigh and tosses her skateboard in the back without looking, pausing when she hears the loud crinkle of plastic. Shit. 

“Is that for me?” she gasps, already turning her body around completely, reaching into the backseat. She’s kneeling on the seat, hunching over the shoulder of it.

Billy swipes at her hands and pushes her back into the seat before she can get her dirty hands on the bags. 

“No,” he says, starting up the car, and pulling away. “They’re for the trick or treaters tonight.”

There definitely weren’t going to be enough trick or treaters to actually take all two giant bags of candy. They don’t live in a very popular neighborhood. 

“Oh, but there’re two bags of candy,” she pouts. 

“So? Dad told me to get two.” Lies. 

“How come we didn’t give out candy last year? I thought Neil said it was the devil’s holiday.” 

Billy snorts. He forgot about that. “How the fuck am I supposed to know? Go ask him.” He prays to whatever God out there that she doesn’t actually go and bug Neil about it. That won’t end well. 

“There’s gonna be leftovers,” she muses. He can feel her staring at him with wide eyes. It’s making him uncomfortable, and he squirms in his seat a little before turning to glare at her.

“And? 

She’s pouting obnoxiously now, giving him a puppy dog look. That shit won’t work on him. “Can I have the leftovers? Please?”

“You still owe me candy,” he says. “I should be the one eating them.” 

“We can split it! 

He pretends to mull it over. “Fine.”

“Yes!” she squeals, triumphant, pumping her fist up in the air, but it hits the car ceiling.

“Watch it, you bitch,” he snaps, but he’s not really mad. He’s just trying to cover up the smile that’s tugging at his lips. This is stupid. He can’t believe he’s smiling over this shit. 

“Ooo, can we get dressed up?”

“Hell fucking no, Maxine. Don’t push it.” 

“But it’s Friday! Neil and Mom will be out on dinner and I have an extra eye-patch. We could be pirates!” 

Ok, being a pirate didn’t sound like the worst idea. It could give him an excuse to walk around shirtless. Plus, he could show off to all the mom’s taking their children trick-or-treating. Maybe Steve’ll come with his gaggle of kids...

“Fine, but I’m not driving you for two weeks now.” 

He laughs when Max lets out a dramatic sigh. Tonight’ll be fun. He expects stomach aches and candy wrappers everywhere. Maybe even smashed pumpkin bits, if she’ll let him. They have an axe in the shed. He could put on a horror show for her. The victim? A grandma pumpkin. 

[bangtan-madi]

Year of the Rabbit — Five: Peripheral

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi, Taehyung x Jimin

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, brother!Namjoon, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 2.4k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight. 

Warnings — language

Part — 5 / 7

Previous — Next

Jungkook straightens his back. The resolve on his face settles into a firm decision. He takes a long swing from his soju, emptying the bottle, and turns towards you. 

"How do you suggest I go about doing that, then?"

"How do you mean?"

"You're a girl. How would you want someone to tell you that they were into you?"

"What, do you think every girl likes being asked out the same way?" At his dumbfounded expression, you scoff. "Aish, I don't speak 'girl,' Bunny. You know her. What would she like?" You tap the side of his head with your knuckles. "Use that brain."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away, and replies, "Just humor me, would you? Give me some ideas."

Unable to ignore his insistence, you huff out a breath and tilt your head slightly. "Well...if you're scared of face-to-face, maybe try over the phone?"

"Like a text?"

You shake your head vigorously, an unintended groan slipping out. "What? No, that's the worst idea ever! I was thinking more phone call confession. Those are cute."

A tiny smirk tugs on the corners of Jungkook's lips, and the sides of his eyes crinkle as you speak. "That's a kdrama cliche if I've ever heard one."

You grab one of the throw pillows and hold it up, eyes narrowing at your target. "Say it again, I dare you."

The brunet raises his hands in defense. "I didn't say it wasn't cute!"

"You wanted ideas, you get ideas." Lowering the throw pillow, you hold it to your chest and turn your eyes from his. "Don't take my word for it. Would she like that?"

"Maybe...it's worth a try, honestly."

"That's really not a great way to answer that, Kookie." Turning around so that you're sitting cross-legged in front of your companion, you place the pillow in your lap and gesture towards him. "So, if you wanna call her, now you need to decide when."

His eyes widen a bit, and a pink tint covers his cheeks. "After the Lunar New Year, maybe?"

"Why not now? Everyone's in a celebratory mood. Everyone's happy. This is the best damn time, and besides, you got me—your loyal wing-woman—here to help you."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "You're not seriously suggesting—"

"—Call her," you interrupt. "Right now."

The brunet's expression shifts from surprise to horror. "We don't even have service thanks to the storm!"

Pulling your cell from your pocket, you show your companion the three bars with a smug smile. "Storm's passed, Bunny. Call her."

"No way."

You grip the edge of the pillow and lean forward "Why not! I helped you ask out that girl in tenth grade. You were a chicken then, like, even more so than now. I can guide you through this."

Your best friend shakes his head as he pulls himself to his feet. Shuffling away from you, back towards the makeshift kitchen in front of the bakery, he replies, "Not gonna happen, [Y/n]."

You pick yourself off the ground and follow him. "Seriously, though. Why not? How long have you been wanting to ask this girl out? A while, yeah? Take it from me: waiting only makes it harder."

Jungkook begins to clean up the makeshift kitchen, keeping his hands busy on that task and he murmurs a soft reply. "I'd rather do it on my own time. Nothing against you, I just..."

Seeing his obvious discomfort, and realizing that he's not going to change his mind, you relent and let your next argument fall away. You grab a reusable grocery bag from the shelf by the registers and return to help him put things away. Jungkook's gaze flickers up to yours, clearly taken back by your silence.

"That's it?" he asks. "You're not going to push it anymore?"

"No, no," you reply, giving a dismissive wave of your hand. "You wanna do it on your own time, that's okay. I won't force you."

"Then why do you sound so salty about it?"

Tilting your head to the side, you blow a piece of hair out of your eyes. "'Cause I'm always salty?"

Jungkook snickers at your retort, showing his agreement through his lack of comeback.

The following minutes of cleanup are silent. The two of you enjoy each other's company as you put the ingredients into the bag, clean the cooking equipment and pans, and fix the mess around the cooking area. As you retrieve the dishes from the cubby area in front of the window, Jungkook counts out the amount of money owed to the store. Plus an extra tip to account for the mess and disturbance for the evening. You've known the owner for some time, and you highly doubt he'd mind given the circumstances, but seeing Jungkook go out of his way to make things right gives you a sense of pride.

And the little whisper of curiosity perks up again at the thought of who he might be pining after. It had better be someone worthy of him. You're protective of all your friends, but none more than your best friend. It twists your stomach in knots to think about him going through another heartbreak. 

But what if this girl really is the one for him? You've never known him to be secretive. If she means this much to him, and he's too shy to talk about her, she's worth asking about.

Again.

You slip behind him at the register, standing up on your tip-toes to whisper, "Although, if you had asked her out already, you'd be at her apartment getting some right now instead of freezing your ass off here with me—"

The brunet groans loudly, caught off-guard by your sudden appearance, and tosses the bills onto the counter. "—Fucking knew you wouldn't let it go."

"I'm just sayin'! Year of the Rabbit could've started off with a bang for the Gym Bunny."

He turns on his heel, staring you down with an unamused expression and cocked eyebrow. "You realize I'm not even born the Year of the Rabbit, right? I'm Year of the Ox."

With a wave of your hand, you reply, "Ox, Rabbit, whatever. It's not even good luck for your birth year, anyway. Be glad it's not the Year of the Ox."

"At least I'm not Year of the Tiger, like you."

"Which explains my shitty year last year," you snide, referencing the prior year in the Chinese zodiac cycle. "Well, what's your girlfriend's zodiac then?"

Jungkook runs a hand through his dark, unruly locks as he turns his back to you. "Um...Rabbit."

"Oof, then maybe don't call her."

He moves across the room, scoops up the blanket from the flower shop, and shakes the crumbs of food from the interior. Eyes still averting yours, he returns, blanket in hand. Draping the scarlet fabric across your shoulders, you fall silent. All sarcasm and teasing instantly fades at the closeness. The gesture silences you; tattooed fingers are gentle and warm as they tighten the throw around you, brushing against your exposed neck.

"Wh—What was that for?" you murmur, voice suddenly softer in the neon light of the bakery.

Jungkook grins, and your heart drops into your stomach when his dimples take center-stage. "You looked cold."

"Oh...really? I feel fine."

A single inked finger caresses your cheek, leaving a trail of tingles and warmth in its wake. "Your cheeks are rosy." His voice is even quieter than yours, and for a brief moment, his gaze locks with yours.

Swallowing dryly, you cup your cheeks between your palms. "I feel warm."

He chuckles, "That's probably the soju, Flower Child."

You narrow your eyes as you stare up at him, keeping your vermilion cheeks covered. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you." It's more of an accusation than a question.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, dropping his hands from the blanket's periphery. "You're really not gonna let this go, are you?"

"I'm just curious!" you exclaim, shaking yourself out of the stupor caused by his closeness. "Who's lucky enough to grab your attention?"

His eyes close for a brief moment. In the silence, you feel the heaviness return to the conversation. The air is uncomfortable, and you find yourself shuffling in place.

"After the holiday," he breathes, letting his attention move to the tile flooring below. "Maybe...Maybe—"

The sound of explosions and the sight of scarlet flares raining from the sky cuts his sentence off. You jump slightly, instinctively moving closer to him. Jungkook's hand reaches for yours, and when you glance up at him, you see his eyes glued to the windows that line the front of the supermarket. 

When it happens a second time, he drags you towards the front, moving slow and cautious. The scarlet lights rain down from the sky again, and from your spot against the glass, you see the aftermath of multicolored firework displays.

Once you realize what the origin of the explosion is, a grin spreads across your face. Your fingers lace with Jungkook's, and you tug him towards the supply closet from where you came hours prior.

"C'mon!" you cheer. "The snow's stopped, and we gotta get a better view."

"Where?" your best friend inquires, though he allows you to tug him along behind you.

"The roof! Follow me, I think I can get to it from the attic!"

The Busan native follows you without question. Your hand in his, the pair of you trek across the supermarket, into the supplies closet, and back up the ladder into the attic space. You recall Yoongi telling you at one point that there was an entrance to the roof somewhere inside.

Upon entering the connecting space above the stores, you're met with the familiar chill and darkness. Jungkook utilizes the flashlight on his cellphone without you having to ask. Trudging along, you find the entrance to the roof in less than a minute. The door is small and hardly recognizable but thankfully unlocked. 

Pushing through, you and your companion land on a long rooftop that gives a gorgeous view of downtown Seoul. The snow has stopped falling, and the storm has moved on in the direction of the Yellow Sea. Every rooftop, every building, every street is covered in white. But slowly, as if Itaewon-dong is awakening after a winter slumber, lights reappear. Flares, lanterns, fireworks: the city comes to life before your eyes. Hues of gold and scarlet contrast beautifully against the porcelain. 

Another firework bounds into the air, originating from the hill near Namsan Tower. You tug on Jungkook's hand, nodding towards the edge of the building. "C'mon, let's get a closer look."

Leaning against the edge of the building, arms propped against the railing, you turn your gaze upwards as a third round of fireworks shower the sky with warm colors. Jungkook stands beside you, hand still over yours on the brick ledge. The temperature is still around freezing, but you hardly mind. But you have a sweatshirt and blanket wrapped around you, and your concern shifts to your best friend.

"Are you cold?" you ask, looking over at him.

His breath comes out in vague clouds, but he's smiling as he shakes his head. "Nope."

"Are you lying?"

"Maybe..."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you shrug the blanket from your shoulders and drape it over him, covering his head and shoulders with ease. Jungkook tries to push it back into your grasp, but you give him a scowl and state, "Don't give me that, Gym Bunny. I have a sweatshirt. All you have is that jacket, and it's hardly meant for snow. I'm perfectly warm—"

To your surprise, Jungkook grabs the edges of the blanket in both hands, moves to stand behind you, and wraps his arms around your middle. The blanket acts as a cocoon of body heat as he sets his chin on your shoulder and pulls you back into him. "How about this, then?"

Stammering over your words, you try to hide your blush by turning back to focus on the fireworks. "Yeah, that works, I guess."

You can feel him smirking against your shoulder as Jungkook takes your affirmation as a signal to relax against you. He's fully aware at how his back-hugs shut you up, and he's completely willing to use them to his advantage. 

"Happy New Year, [Y/n]," he murmurs after a few minutes of silence.

Tugging the blanket tighter around you both, a small smile slips onto your face. You've never been one to believe in Lunar New Year miracles, the ones your grandmother told you about when you were small, but with Jungkook this close to you, you can't help but stand in awe and wonder at the butterflies in your stomach. 

"For what it's worth, you don't have to tell me anything," you add, trying to hide the tender and sensitive heart you're nurturing. "I know you'll share when you're ready, and I hope you didn't feel like I was pressuring you."

Jungkook shakes his head, chin brushing against your sweatshirt. "I never thought that." 

"Oh? Good..." You heave a sigh. "Must be some girl."

"She is," he admits. "And it's not that I don't want to tell you. I just..."

Shaking your head, you reach your hand up and back to pat the top of his head without turning around. "You don't have to say anything. Let's...Let's just watch the fireworks, yeah?"

Jungkook doesn't respond verbally, but the way his arms tighten around your center lets you know he's heard you. 

"Happy New Year, Jungkookie."

In that moment, under the fireworks, you conclude that it doesn't matter who this girl is. As long as you have him in your life—no matter the role—you're content. You can live with being best friends if it means he's happy. That means more to you than the feelings you push down, and you'll always put his joy above yours.

Because if there's one thing that Jungkook has always been, it's your closest friend, your partner in crime, your one constant thing. Ever since you two met, he's always been bunny smiles, shining eyes, and pure of heart. He's always been there, at the edge of your vision, peripheral and steadfast—like the fireworks exploding in the corners of your eyes.

Taglist — @kooala

[wienerbarnes]

Breathe Deeper

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,324

Prompt: “Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” (from a random prompt generator)

Warnings: murder, violence, staging a suicide, ~feelings~

A/N: cafe bustelo does wonders for you at 1 am anyway ive been trying to finish this for like two months. have a couple more ideas for these two but feel free to send me any ideas or requests and ill do em if the inspo strikes! also title is purely the song im listening to as i type this out and has no correlation to the story LOL but hey if yall like tame impala enjoy

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A single pop is heard as a bullet flies out of your gun into the head of the old man who opened the door.

“Christ! No build up?! No tension?! No confirmation that it’s even him?!” Bucky yells as he wiggles his ear to rid the ringing from it.

You brush past Bucky and slide the gun back into the holster strapped to your thigh. You step over behind whatever his name was, Bucky’s having trouble remembering after that blow to his eardrum, and hook your hands under his arms in order to  drag him back into the empty house.

“Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” Bucky questions you as he closes the door behind him, stepping in between splatters of blood.

“Nope, gotta leave leftovers for the bugs that live in my mouth.”

“That’s gross.”

“Shut up, help me lug this guy to the bedroom.”

The two of you are in a small town in Northern Oklahoma on the property of one of your ex-Hydra handlers. After a few days of researching, the two of you were able to figure out where he moved to and what he changed his name to after retiring from his prior lifestyle.

“I knew it was him from the second I saw him. You never forget.” You explain to him, both of you positioning his body in the corner of the room.

“You go clean up the entryway, I’ll finish staging over here.” Bucky offers it to you. He takes out his own gun from his own waistband and fires a single shot through the same hole you put in between the guy’s eyes. The splatter that explodes on the walls behind him are perfect, artistic almost. Bucky then starts looking around the room; in the closet, under the bed, until he reaches the night stand where a pretty little pistol lays. Not the same gun as his, but he has a feeling the police system in such a small and unpopulated town won’t bother to investigate this death as a murder as opposed to the obvious suicide that took place.

Bucky notices the small skull and octopus stamped into the side of the gun as he places it in his hands. He rolls his eyes before making his way back over to the entryway where you’re sat on the ground, scrubbing away with a rag in your hands and a bottle of bleach next to you. 

Bucky walks over and takes a seat on the loveseat positioned a few feet away from where you are.

“So, where we heading after this?” Bucky asks you, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the arm of the seat.

“Back to New York? You probably gonna be busy working on that murder case.” You glance at him confused before going back to scrubbing.

Bucky pauses before speaking again, “How do you know about that?”

“I… keep up with my fair share of news.”

“You don’t pay for newspapers nor do you have a TV or a phone; you don’t have news. Besides, we haven’t released any information to the public about anything before we get more leads. So, how do you know about that?” Bucky stares at you, eyebrows pinched a bit in the middle as he awaits your answer.

“Do you wanna stop and get some pie on the way back?”

“No. Did you see something about the murders?” Bucky ignores your attempt at changing the subject.

“You just said you haven’t released anything-”

“I don’t mean on the news, I mean in that empty head of yours.” He teases.

You sigh, “I hate when you ask me about my… head.”

“Well, you could be helping here! You can try and be good!”

“I’m sitting on the floor scrubbing an old guy’s blood out of the wood of his own house after I’ve just blown his brains out.”

“Yeah, a bad old guy!”

You get off the last of the specks of blood before standing up and screwing the cap back onto the bottle of bleach. “I didn’t even see anything about the killer, anyway.”

“So, what did you see?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Fetch me a bone here, doll.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that, dog.”

He grabs the bleach and rag from your fingers to free up your hands from carrying anything. Tingles travel up the tips of your fingers and flow up through your wrist into your chest. You glance up and make eye contact with Bucky and the dramatic puppy eyes and pouty lips he’s throwing your way. 

You stare for a few more seconds before looking away, “Check that huge pond in Central Park tomorrow. His next victim will be floating there.” You satisfy him before turning and making your way back outside and to the car the two of you took on your little road trip.

While walking back to the parked car, Bucky quickly rushes in front of you and grasps the handle before you can reach it, allowing you to get in the car while he holds it open for you. He throws you an innocent looking smile, a smile coming from a person who surely didn’t just stage a suicide. You bite back your own smile before taking a seat and letting Bucky close the door behind you.

…

When you open your eyes after your nap, it's dark outside the moving car. You slowly lift your head up off the car window and glance over at Bucky, who you now realize is on the phone with someone.

“I told you, it was a weird anonymous number, Sam. I don’t know where it came from.” Bucky speaks softly on the phone before turning his head to look at you in your sleepy state.

“All they said was to check the pond in Central Park tomorrow. I know it’s sketchy, but we don’t have any other leads anyway, we might as well try it.”

“We sounds like a lot of people, ain’t you say that to me one time? Not all of us are on vacation, you know.” You hear another deep voice through the tiny speaker of the phone against Bucky’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, man.”

Bucky wraps up his conversation as you process what you’ve heard. Bucky has lied, again, to the government, to Captain America, in order to protect you and your existence.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks before your thoughts can get too far from you.

“Fine. We’re already heading back to New York?” 

“We’re stopping at a motel for the night, but after tomorrow’s drive, we’ll get there by sundown.”

You sit up proper and stretch your legs as far out in front of you as you can, the bones crunching and popping in relief at the new position. Bucky cringes next to you. He glances at you and watches you pick at the crust gathered at the corners of your eyes, a yawn escaping you along with the last of your grogginess.

Bucky doesn’t know how he’d fully express it to you, but he’s so happy to see the person you’re growing into. Everyday a little bit more of your personality, your mannerisms, your weirdness, your humor, your ideas; everything about the real you, shows more and more. He sees this beautiful woman who, maybe a year and some ago, was walking the line of death and now sits beside him with neon green nail polish and mismatched socks and cute flower earrings adorning the curve of your ear. He stares at the tattoo on your neck, that angry red face with large eyebrows and wonders whether or not that was your idea or not. He wonders if you have any other tattoos hidden among the space of your skin, he doesn’t remember seeing any along your sides or stomach that nightmare of a night in his apartment-

“You’re swervin’.” 

Bucky clears his throat and snaps his head forward, fixing the car to drive straight on the road. Soon, he sees the promising sign, “Motel in 10 Miles,” and the two of you park in the small lot of the light orange building.

The inside smells of old people, an aged scent that isn’t necessarily bad, but makes you scrunch your nose nonetheless. No bugs in clear sight and the roof is still intact, so it should be suitable for a night of rest.

“We only have rooms available on the first floor for tonight, I’m assuming you’ll want one bed?”

Bucky's throat goes dry for a second, “Yes, that’s fine.” He doesn’t want to consult you as you look far off out the front window of the lobby, back turned to the young woman at the front desk. No matter how small a town in whatever state there is at this point in their journey, there is no risking anyone recognizing you, even if your search mission has been deemed unsolved.

A plastic card is slid into Bucky’s right hand and he begins making his way back outside and down the walkway towards their room for the night. You follow him silently.

“I call showering first, I think there’s small clumps of blood still stuck in my hair.” You tell him, flinging your backpack onto the bed, and pulling out a large sweatshirt and panties and taking them into the bathroom with you. 

While the water begins to run, Bucky undoes the blankets, looks thoroughly through the pillows and in between the sheets in search of bed bugs. Next, inspecting the lamps, outlets, and anything else that could possibly hide a camera, microphone, or any other device. He even contemplates tearing apart the carpet under his feet, but decides against the extra work. He places your bag along with his own backpack on the small table in the corner of the room and fixes the bed to not look like he tore it apart recklessly. I wonder what side she prefers-

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam flows out, you soon emerge with a towel wrapped around your head, large sweatshirt hanging off your frame and bare feet digging into the soft carpet beneath you. You fling the towel off of your head using momentum from throwing your head and neck forward, the towel landing on the floor in front of you and your wet hair sending a light spray Bucky feels on his warm face.

By the time Bucky finishes with his shower, the room resembles a sauna and his metal arm has gone hot. A long sleeved shirt and cotton shorts are slipped onto his body along with a pair of thick socks to keep him warm at all times. He steps out of the bathroom, using his towel to rub through his hair, and he spots you using the small mirror on the wall. 

Your legs are on display and your underwear is in sight. Bright pink with WEDNESDAY printed on the behind in bubble letters, it’s Friday, the bottoms of your butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of the fabric. The cotton hugs your body and Bucky can’t help but blush at the sight. His mother would smack him over the head if she were here right now. 

Your shirt is lifted, one of your hands holding it high on your chest where Bucky can see a slip of under your breast peeking, the curve intriguing him. Your other hand is occupied rubbing a colorless liquid along your side, Bucky focuses his attention and realizes your rubbing along the scar he left you from your stitches. The bottle on the table has a label that read Vitamin E Natural Oil. 

Your fingers seem unbelievably soft and gentle as he watches them glide along your side, massaging the shiny oil into your smooth skin. You drop your sweatshirt and gather a bit more oil on your hands before rubbing it into your hips where Bucky can see the faintest stretch marks.

“Sorry ‘bout the scar. O-on your side, I mean.” Bucky stutters out, convincing himself that his body is warm from the shower he took. 

“It probably saved my life, so I can’t say I’m sorry about it.” You respond without turning around, as though you knew he was there watching you lather yourself in oil like the beginning of a softcore porn but didn’t mind him enjoying the show.

“What’s that stuff for, anyways?” Bucky asks as he gathers his old clothes back into his bag, folding each piece before placing the packed bag next to yours on the table. Your bag that clearly does not have folded clothes, only crinkled ones. Bucky empties your bag and folds your clothes for you before neatly packing it and closing the zippers.

“Helps fade scars.”

“Yeah, but why? Scars are cool.” 

“I suppose. I’d still like to lighten them a bit. So they look better, prettier.”

“You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in the last few decades.”

“You don’t even remember most of the last few decades,” You try to joke.

“I mean it. It’s a compliment. It’s okay to accept and enjoy compliments, doll.” Bucky looks at you, forcing you to meet his eyes. You see in your peripheries as he puts the cap on the bottle of oil and places it next to your bag. A small smile adorns his face as he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel a knot form in your throat.

It’s been a long while since you’ve received any kind of love, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or self. It’s an overwhelming feeling when someone who you aren’t actually the closest with gives you such a deep and personal compliment. 

Aren’t the closest with- this is your only friend he the only person you even know. The point is, being the most beautiful woman of the century is much different than having pretty hair or a good sense of humor.

You look away from him before the small bit of wetness can gather in your waterline.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” Bucky whispers softly to you, as to not break the safe atmosphere created by his sweet comment.

You clear your throat that now feels thick with tar, “The right.”

“Good. I prefer the left.”

[lightwoodsmagic]

I’ve been struggling with my writing for the last couple of days, and nothing was really helping, until @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed gave me the below prompt. Thank you, I love you. 

‘Single dad Zayn needing a babysitter REALLY badly bc if he misses his exam he gets kicked out of school so he sorta asks his new neighbour Liam if please please he can watch her for a few hours’

Hope you enjoy!

📚 🧁

“I’m so sorry mate, you know we would if we could but I’ve had to go into work today, and Haz’s got that shoot.”

Zayn squeezed his eyes shut, his free hand rubbing at his temples. Akilah was watching him with wide eyes from the floor, her thumb shoved in her mouth; he didn’t have the heart today to try and break the habit. 

“It’s fine Lou, thanks anyway,” he sighed. “I’ll give Niall a call, see if he can watch her.” He already knew he couldn’t, remembered the meetings he said he had today, but the white lie was better than the additional guilt that it’d make Louis feel. “We’ll catch up soon, yeah?”

After Zayn finished the call, he sank down onto the couch, hands trembling slightly as he tried to figure out what exactly his options were.

His exam was in an hour, a half hour drive away, and his usual babysitter had called this morning with food poisoning. He’d tried desperately to find a replacement, calling everyone he knew until it’d fallen on even calling the people he knew were busy, just in case. The lads were busy, his family all working or at school and too far away to help, the girls he worked with at the restaurant unable to help. He only had one other option, and he just had to pray that Bev from across the hall was home.

A small hand gripped his jeans, and Zayn’s gaze dropped, his eyes softening and his heart melting as Akilah pulled herself up, holding onto his knees.

“Baba, snack now?”

“Hi, mere chand.” Zayn ran an affectionate hand through her hair, grinning when she tried to bat it away, even though it was slightly strained. “I’ve packed some snacks for you because Baba has to go to school.” He stood up, heaving Akilah up with him with a woo that made her giggle. “Do you want to go see Mrs Johnson? See if you spend some time with her while I’m at school?”

She shoved her thumb back into her mouth as Zayn moved to grab her bag from the kitchen. “Yeah!”

Zayn blew out a breath as he moved through the flat and across the hall, knocking gently and hoping with everything he had that she was home and -

“Zayn dear! And Akilah, how are you, sweet girl?” Bev cooed, but Zayn’s heart sank when he realised she had her coat on and her handbag. “What can I do for you, love?”

Zayn gripped Akilah tightly to his body, hoping her weight and humming in his ear would settle him. “I - I have an exam in less than an hour and no one can watch her, and I’ve already rescheduled once and if I can’t make it, I’m gonna get kicked out of the class and I won’t be able to graduate Bev, and I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

The trembling in his hands grew when Bev’s face fell, and she immediately looked regretful. He looked down to hide the stinging at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry love, I have an important appointment, but it’s okay,” she said firmly, slow hand coming up to lightly pat his face, wiping a tear from his cheek, “because you should go and ask Liam.”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed as Akilah started to squirm. He popped her carefully on the ground and pushed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Who’s Liam?”

Bev made a soft noise, pushing gently at his chest as she moved out of the doorway and shut it behind her. “The lovely man who just moved in next to you! He’s such a sweetheart, Zayn, and I was just talking to him about his little nieces and nephews,” she mused, gesturing at Liam’s door as she moved towards the lift. “I’m sure he won’t mind, he’s very kind,” she stopped, turning to fix him with a sly grin, “and he’s very handsome.”

“I can’t leave her with a stranger, Bev! I don’t even know him,” he hissed, ignoring the knowing look on face.

“Yes well, I do dear, and he’s very lovely. He’ll look after her well, I’m sure,” she said happily, “and maybe you too, if you’d let him.”

Zayn spluttered, heat rushing to his cheeks as he tried to protest quietly, but she cheerfully waved him off. He didn’t know this man, had never even met him, but he’d officially run out of options. There was no harm in trying, he supposed, no other real choice.

He knelt down, his knee digging harshly into the carpet. “Okay, are you ready to meet someone new? His name’s Liam, apparently.” He tried to sound positive, but he could tell from the hesitance on his little girl’s face that he hadn’t succeeded.

“I guess so,” she mumbled around her thumb, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung, and Zayn couldnt stop the heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

He lifted her off the ground, pressing a kiss to her temple, and stood in front of his neighbour’s door. He could hear soft music coming from inside, a soft melody and careful bass. Zayn was running out of time, so he took a deep breath, and knocked firmly. He bounced Akilah gently on his hip, realising that she was getting too old for this now, really, but she was helping to settle his nerves and surely it wasn’t really a bad thing -

The door swung open, and Zayn’s breath caught in his throat.

The man standing in the doorway, soft grin and curious eyes, muscled arms and what looked like flour in his hair, was one of the most attractive men he’d ever seen, and Zayn did not have time for a breakdown right now.

“Hello, can I help you?” His voice was low and warm, and his smile widened when he noticed Akilah, and oh. There were crinkles at the corners of his eyes and he was covered in tattoos and Zayn was half a second away from thinking that his exam could go and fuck itself before Liam spoke again. “Oh, hello pretty girl! I’m Liam, who are you?” Liam reached out to shake her foot softly.

Zayn was frozen, and all he could do was watch as Akilah shyly drew her thumb out of mouth and eyed Liam carefully.

“Akilah. This is my Baba.”

Liam’s eyes snapped to his, and his smile shifted, no less genuine but something behind it now that filled Zayn with warmth.

“Uh, hi, ‘m Zayn. I live next door.” He reached forward awkwardly to shake Liam’s hand, and his grip was strong and he really needed to focus.

“I’m Liam, but you already know that,” Liam laughed, and his eyes only moved from Zayn’s quickly to check on where Akilah was squirming.

Zayn sighed and put her down. “Careful please darling, just stand here a moment.” He steeled himself, and then just allowed himself to ramble. “I know we only just met, and I’m so sorry to ask anything of you, but I have an exam at school and no one else can watch her and Bev said you might be free and I’m sure you don’t want to spend the afternoon looking after a kid you don’t know and we don’t even know each other but I can’t miss this and I’m desperate Liam, and —.”

“Zayn,” Liam held up a hand, stained green with what looked like food dye. “Of course I can watch her, you need to get to your exam. I promise it’s okay, alright? I’ve got a niece around her age, we’ll have fun!” He reached out to gently grip Zayn’s bicep, and Zayn almost whined at the contact.

It’d been years since he’d had any kind of relationship, bar a one night stand almost a year ago, and now even this was almost erring in the side of too much. Inappropriate really, considering the situation. Zayn shook his head and let the words sink in.

“Wait, really?” Relief flooded through him, and he quickly shoved the bag at Liam. “There’s snacks and some games and drawing stuff in there, some diapers as well, and some wipes.” He picked Akilah up again as Liam waved at her out of the corner of his eye. “Mere chand, I have to go to school, okay? Do you wanna stay with Liam for a little while? I’ll be back as soon as I can, but you’ll have fun, yeah?”

Akilah grinned suddenly at him, and reached out for Liam in a way that she’d never done with a new person before. Zayn swore quietly, and handed her to him properly, heart stuttering in his chest as he watched the two of them smile at each other.

“Lee-yum! We’ll have fun, bye Baba.” She wasn’t even looking at Zayn when she said it, eyes wide and focused on Liam, and Zayn could definitely relate.

“Yeah Baba, we’ll have fun,” Liam murmured, gaze back on Zayn, and bounced Akilah on his hip, and Zayn’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I was just doing some baking for my sister’s party tonight, do you wanna help me?”

Akilah squirmed again, in Liam’s arms this time, pumping her tiny fist in the air in a way she only could’ve learned from Harry, and Zayn rolled his eyes fondly at the cheer she let out. So much for being worried, then.

Zayn would’ve stared at the image forever, but he was definitely going to be late if he didn’t leave.

“Be good for Liam, okay love?” He darted forward to kiss her forehead, “and I’ll be back soon. Liam,” he reached out to cling to Liam’s forearm, his thumb running circles into his wrist. “Thank you, I’m beyond grateful, I can’t even explain it.”

“Zayn!” Liam laughed, swaying slightly so Akilah laughed. “Just go, okay? I’m more than happy to help. Can I have your number?” He was smirking now, and there was no way Zayn was going to be able to concentrate on his exam. “Just in case something happens.”

Zayn quickly put his number in Liam’s phone, hands still trembling slightly. “Okay, I’ll just,” he jabbed his thumb awkwardly towards the lift, “I’ll just go.”

Liam’s grin turned slightly wicked. “Okay. Good luck, Zayn.”

Zayn started walking backwards now, soaking in the sight of his beautiful daughter giggling in the arms of a gorgeous man. “Thank you. I - I’ll see you later, Leeyum.” He let the teasing word sit in his mouth longer, drawing it out, and the look on Liam’s face made it worth it. Zayn grinned with a final wave, and jogged towards the lift. He was anxiously tapping his foot, waiting for the doors to open, when Liam called his name out into the hall.

Zayn spun around, pulse racing. “Yeah?”

“Maybe when you come back, you could stay for a bit?” Liam seemed slightly shy now, and the answer was obvious even before he kept talking. “I have some cakes and biscuits and scones, and I’m - well, I’m a baker so they’re good, I promise, and —.”

“Liam,” Zayn cut him off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Absolutely. I’d absolutely love to.”

[dreaming-gamer]

DMC week Day 1: Weapon – V & Nico

Gen, no shipping.

Warning: Angst towards the end.

V had never expected such an atmosphere, but there was something tranquil about being able to sit on the couch in Nico’s RV, just quietly reading the pages of his beloved anthology for perhaps the hundredth time. A soft purr rumbled against his sandal-clad feet. It was usually harder to tell his feline companion’s feelings, compared to Griffon, but at the moment, Shadow seemed perfectly content with a nap, as well as keeping V off his feet for a bit.

The summoner couldn’t deny the recent days of fighting was starting to leave an aching strain in his muscles. This moment of rest might be short, there were still many demons about after all but until Nero returned, they could only wait in this safe spot that Nico had parked in.

Speaking of the self-proclaimed Queen of machines, she was currently happily tinkering away at the latest piece of demon parts V had salvaged for her and V could admit it was a relaxing sound to hear in the background. Gears being twisted, her small exclamations of discovery, the clink of tools and metal meeting. Her work left a smell of oil in the air, but it was not unpleasant compared to the stench of demon blood and guts he had gotten so utterly used to by now.

“Oh-hee! I am a genius!”

The sudden shout was louder than most of her exclamations during the last hour and made Shadow lift her head. V kept his gaze on the book, just as fast footsteps thundered his way.

Making a mental note of which page he was on, V raised his gaze but had no time to ask what she had now figured out before she let out a huff.

“What, Nero’s not back yet?” Nico’s hand went for her tool belt, found the package and pulled out a cigarette for herself.

“It would appear not.” V agreed matter-of-factly, softly closing his book. “Did you need him for something?”

The grin that grew on Nico’s face matched a cat that just got a bowl of cream, she grinned all around the cigarette as she took a drag.

“That thing ya brought back resulted in something real special. Wanna have a peek? Free of charge!”

V felt a smirk tug at his lips.

“Well, if you are being so generous…”

Shadow moved just enough for her master to get up properly, using his cane for a bit of support to rise. Making his way through the small space of the RV, the sight that greeted him at the artisan’s workbench was certainly… odd. The design was quite unlike any of the earlier Devil Bringers she had made and V had found the Pasta Breaker an interesting enough design choice. This Devil Bringer didn’t look like a hand even.

This object was blue, didn’t resemble an arm at all really, though V could see where it was supposed to attach.

“I call it the Mega Buster!” Nico proudly declared, just as the soft ruffle of wings left V’s tattoos.

“Oh yeah, what does it even do? I don’t know if you noticed but it’s not even a hand!” Griffon snickered, setting himself down on one of the cupboards.

“That’s because this one shoots. Maybe ya wanna be target practice, little chickee?” The artisan replied, lowering her voice.

“I had enough of those damn blasts fighting the thing! You could thank me!” Griffon exclaimed, his feathers ruffled so he took to disappearing into his host but V couldn’t help smirking a bit at the exchange. He knew his familiar had not forgotten the threat of the steel pot. As for the battle itself, V did not miss those energy blasts either, the lower hem of his leather coat was singed off. If Nero could harness that power, well, wouldn’t that be useful? The showing of her recent creation sparked a question he had been wanting to ask for a while.

“If you do not mind me asking…” V started as Nico took another drag of her cigarette. “...how did you come up with the idea for these Devil Bringers?” V was genuinely curious, Nero’s case was certainly special, considering how one of his arms had been lost. But V had never heard of a prosthetic limb being built with such potential for combat. Boisterous she might be, but Nico did have quite a knack for the mechanical, that he could not deny.

Nico snorted, letting out a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s a fun story alright. So Nero came wobblin’ back to Fortuna right, demanded I’d fix an arm for him. Sure, I was onboard, but then the psycho dropped a one-month deadline! Hell, he didn’t get that something like that would take half a year at least!”

V nodded, letting her continue while swatting away the cloud of smoke she blew out in his direction. Either she didn’t think about diverting the smoke, or she just did not care. The RV was her castle, after all.

“So we stood there arguing about it, when there was this guy who barged in and told Nero there was demon trouble! I told the jackass to get in, ya could tell from his face he wasn’t skipping that fight.” Nico grinned, exhaling a small cloud through her nostrils. “Damn, never seen a fight like that up close. The demon was called a Blitz or whatever. That didn’t matter though. What mattered was the way its remains were all sparky after Nero turned it to shish kebab. And that’s when yours truly got the idea for the Overture.” She stated, a proud glint evident in her brown eyes, smoke dancing around her grin.

“An impressive feat, for such a short amount of time.” V nodded as her story appeared finished.

“I know, right? So, you want me to have a lookie at what ya got? Maybe I can give ya an upgrade since Nero’s new toy’s all done.”

Before V had time to consider her offer, the mechanic snatched the cane from his light grip. V let her even though the gesture was quite rude, he felt a bit of… curiosity. Along with no small amount of doubt, considering the cane’s origins as well as well as other factors. Yet a bit of curiosity if her self-proclaimed, and quite proven genius, could find out anything about the cane that he had missed. He stayed silent as she examined his cane, just curiously watching while leaning lightly against the counter while she tapped the cane with a tool. Turned it over from every angle and checked it, even brought it close to some slivers of demonic remains to check for a reaction. There was a tiny spark as she brought the cane down on it and then, the small piece of demon flesh disintegrated.

“Metal seems good for conducting demonic energy. But is that all it does?” She sounded a bit disappointed at the lack of findings.

“It lets me finish off demons, as long as they’re weakened. I believe that will have to do.” V didn’t really have any other expectations of it, at this point.

“Oh, wait, maybe I can make some kinda coating on it? Let’s ya cut through demons more easily.” V could almost see the gears in her head starting to work, the spark of inspiration coming to life.

Admittedly, it didn’t sound like an impossible idea. But…

“I thought you used up today’s materials.” V stated, his gaze falling on the slivers of demonic remains that now looked like nothing but grains of what had once been.

“So what if I did? There’s still demons roaming about out there. Oh-hee, Nero might even bring something back!” Excitement was alight in her eyes as she took out her cigarette, put out what was left of it against an ashtray on the counter before handing back V’s aid.

V took the cane, leaned on it slightly, finding the inspiration that seemed to hit her at the mere thought of more work to be quite interesting. She clearly lived for this, just as she had claimed she wanted to be legendary like her grandmother.

“You just might become that…” He said in thought, slightly to himself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, pardon me.” V smirked and she just raised an eyebrow before grabbing for another cigarette.

”Just ya wait, I can equip ya with something better for kicking demon ass. Or maybe ya want a nice frying pan, for when the lil’ chickee gets too much?” Nico snickered, her grin almost sympathetic. V smirked, maybe she could come up with something brilliant for him as well. But for now, it was much better if she concentrated those efforts on Nero.

”I appreciate the offer. But I believe I’m properly equipped, for now.” V knew his reality did not include running around with a sword on his back, swinging it around was not in his cards. A gun might be another thing but he felt no need to start wielding one now. He had to resort to other means, his familiars. Shadow materialized herself, as if on cue and put her large head against his leg, pushing softly.

Ah, he had not noticed how he was starting to lean just a bit more heavily on the cane, an ache returning to his knee, making the nerves tremble.

“If you excuse me, I have some reading to do.” He said, warmed by his familiar’s silent insistence. If he had an opportunity to rest, he should make use of it. Nico didn’t seem to notice his trembling, nor his familiar’s… caring behavior.

“Pff, sure. But the offer stands, ya hear? How about a cane that suits yer height?” Nico joked, walking past him as V sat down on the couch again.

“It’s not necessary.” A joke it might be, but V nevertheless felt a warm feeling in his chest over her insistence to try. Along with a slight… ache, wrapping around his heart and squeezing.

An ache that persisted when Nico suddenly dropped a blanket in his lap.

V looked up, letting just a bit of his confusion show on his face.

“What? Ya looked chilled, trembling like that.” Nico said with a shrug. “Ya gotta speak up sometime, I can’t read minds. Well, yet.”

How utterly terrifying it would be if you could. V thought.

“Thank you.” He said. “For the… insight of your genius, as well.” Nico grinned at him, obviously pleased.

“Ya might gonna have to pay for it next time!”

“Perhaps…” She made it sound so very… certain, it was tempting to get swept up in the enthusiasm. V’s smirk fell as she continued on to the dashboard, her back to him.

“Is that jackass gonna take forever?! I wanna see him put this to use! And give me the cash.” The last bit was barely audible as Nico grabbed for the phone to dial.

V smirked to himself. Yes, Nero would be able to put Nico’s latest, as well as future weapons to good use. The summoner gently scratched behind Shadow’s ear as the panther settled over his feet again. Slowly, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders and bare arms, his trembling might not be because of a chill, but Nico’s gesture still made him feel warm, more so than the soft fabric that smelled lightly of detergent. And with it, that ache inside just seemed to grow, to squeeze tighter but he tried to shove it aside. Nico’s energetic speech as she chewed out Nero on the phone made that feeling of tranquility settle over him again along with a will to just enjoy these moments, while they lasted. So V opened up his book again, to the same page he had left earlier, while she chatted away.

Just under the leather bands on his left wrist, a tiny crack in his skin peeked through.

[intruality-overlord]

Too Soft

2081 Words

Summary: A one night stand goes off the rails. (No smut, just feels.)

AO3 link:

Patton surveyed the room while he nursed his beer. While alcohol was great and all, the drink was more for something to occupy his hands than anything else. Patton wasn’t here for the drinks.

Patton found exactly what he was looking for in the form of walking sin in ripped skinny jeans and a crop top. Perfect. He spotted the green devil across the room mingling in a swarm of sweaty bodies doing whatever he thought passed as dancing. It was the best worm impression Patton had ever witnessed. Mostly random wiggling. With that permanent devilish grin and booming cackle louder than the blasting music, Patton was sure he knew exactly how ridiculous he was.

He seemed to attract as many people as he scared away. Probably with horrendous flirting.

Suddenly, the girl they were currently chatting up threw her drink in his face. Patton snorted. Apparently loud enough for the green devil to hear and— Oh fuck they were making eye contact. Those green eyes were electric. Bright with mischief.

Goodness, and that mustache groomed to goofy perfection.

Welp, Patton was just trying to work up the courage to approach him but it looked like the green devil was doing it for him now. All he had to do was remember however the fuck to flirt.

…and figure out how to remember something he never knew in the first place.

Patton traced his eyes over him in what he hoped was an appealing way. They seemed to not so much walk, but more move his lanky body by swinging his legs in the general direction he wanted to go in.

Soon enough, he was saddled up beside Patton at the bar (and if Patton had any doubts if he was queer, he knew he must be by the way he mocked of concept of chairs). Up close, Patton could see he had several tattoos. He also had many piercings in each ear, not necessarily matching in jewellery or placement, as well as a septum piercing with a cute emerald gemstone (that was glistening with the alcohol he hadn’t bothered to do anything about yet).

“Enjoying the view?” The stranger flirted.

“I was enjoying the spectacle,” Patton tried teasing. That earned him a warm, toothy smile.

“You were staring longer than that, cheeky,” he smirked, finally deciding to dry his face off on his sleeve.

“What did you do to deserve a soak in the first place?” Patton asked.

“Some like the direct approach, others not so much,” he shrugged. Patton giggled. Then giggled more when the stranger's jaw dropped. “My name’s Remus by the way,” he rushed out somewhat breathlessly.

“I’m Patton. Pleasure to meet you Remus-by-the-way.”

Remus snorted.

Damnit, Remus was charming and adorable in his own way and fuck Patton wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that! He’s sexy damnit! Think sexy! (Patton excused his nausea as butterflies.)

“Could you give me an example?” Patton plowed onwards.

“Hmmmm,” Remus pretended to think, twirling that ridiculous but majestic mustache. Propping his chin on his hand like a pillow, he watched Patton with a slow smirk as if he could already imagine waking up to him tomorrow. “I'm always on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”

Shocked laughter punched Patton’s lungs. That shouldn’t have made Patton blush hard enough to nearly pop a blood vessel.

“So… your opinion?” Remus giggled too.

“I think…”

As he thought, his eyes wandered again. Patton was still taking in the view. There was just so much to admire with this fascinating man. Inked flowers embellished his deathly pale skin. Roses. Though the design was more focused on the thorns appearing to draw bright scarlet blood rather than the monochrome blooms. It started from behind his ear, slithering down his neck and disappeared into his shirt. There was another glimpse of the ink at his exposed midriff, and it teasingly peaked through the ripped jeans too.

Patton really wanted to see the rest of that damn tattoo.

“I think I like you,” he answered truthfully, with a smile way too soft for the situation.

“I think I like you, too,” Remus parroted. The words and his smile, with his own bastardly twist.

If anyone could fix Patton, it would be this green devil.

“Wanna ditch this place?” Remus quirked a brow at him.

“Please,” Patton said before he could reconsider.

“Sweet,” he said, his grin somehow relaxing while his eyes just grew brighter. “My place or yours?”

“Yours.”

~•~

As soon as the door softly clicked shut behind them, Remus turned around and…

Took the time to bother locking the door. Huh. So far, Remus was the most responsible person he’d ever been with. While Remus fiddled with his keys (for what was only a second or two), Patton twiddled his thumbs. This night really was a strange one.

Giggles boiled over Remus at the sight. “Cutie,” he purred, and took Patton’s hand. Calloused fingertips smoothly slipped into his hand, cradling not clamping onto him. Patton was instantly fascinated by the touch. Squeezing their palms flush together, Remus’s palm was glowing hot like a live light bulb.

Patton stumbled as Remus abruptly tugged him up a short flight of stairs.

Wait— were the skipping the making out at the door bit? But that was the best part! Well, Patton wasn’t a huge fan a body sandwiching him to a hard, unforgiving wall, but did this mean they were just skipping straight to—

Patton’s blood ran cold like abandoned soup.

Before Patton registered that they were already at the bedroom, those burning glass hands were hoisting him up by his thighs. He scrambled for his shoulders— damn there was more muscle on his bones than Remus’s thin frame flaunted— with a squeak. Oh, maybe they were just using the bedroom door or walls instead—

Nope. Remus gently lay Patton down on his bed, looming over him. Fuck, the mattress was practically hotel quality. And Remus… His hands were still snuggly glued to his thighs, using pure core strength to hover above him. Breath skated across his skin. Electric green eyes warmed his cheeks with their reverent gaze, and Patton wondered if they were actually a green angel this whole time. Patton found he’d never felt so comfortable in a position with his legs hooked around a stranger’s waist. It took him off guard.

Yet what surprised Patton far more was—

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asked as he smiled down at him. And it sounded like a genuine question.

“O-oh, yeah, of course,” Patton stuttered. They normally didn’t ask that— so they were gonna do the making out part? Wasn’t it just implied that he could kiss him? That was the whole reason he was at his house? It wasn’t that Patton didn’t expect Remus in particular to… have bad manners, Patton just expected Remus to be like everybody else.

“Are you okay?” Remus said, his eyebrows crinkled gently in a way that made Patton’s stomach feel like it was stuffed with wriggling pom-poms— in a good way. Wait, is that what butterflies are supposed to feel like? “I-I’m sorry I’m just a-a bit nervous,” Patton mumbled breathlessly.

Shoulders relaxing into smooth broad slopes, Remus smiled with a tiny sigh. “You’re so cute,” Patton swore he heard embedded in that sigh of honey. “That’s okay,” Remus reassured, “I’ll go as slow as you want.” Slipping a hand behind his neck, tucked beneath his ear, thumb settled on his jaw, Remus whispered, “or as fast.” And that cheeky grin was back. A smile hesitantly lifted his cheeks even as Patton gulped like he was swallowing a rock.

More teeth than lips met his when Remus kissed him, but Patton didn’t mind when he could feel him smiling. That smile was just as bewitching to feel against his skin as it was to ogle at.

Then Remus's weight steadily settled on top of him. Doing the kissing part on cushioning blankets instead of wood digging into his spine was luxury. His mustache tickled, and that septum piercing did too as Remus pressed closer. One hand teasingly trailed up and down Patton’s neck in broad soothing strokes while the hand on Patton’s thigh was a comforting constant. Teeth clashing morphed into a sweet but firm press of lips, only to revert back with the addition of tongue.

Somehow, Remus even made that sweet and gentle.

Teasingly, the tip of his tongue traced the seam of Patton’s lips, followed by slightly sloppier, mostly closed mouthed kisses. Patton properly sunk into the mattress. Then Remus seemed to remember himself and parted specifically to ask, “Is this okay?” As if it was just as vital to ask that as it was to pause for breath. It was even more confusing the second time, honestly. They were already kissing, why was he asking again? Nonetheless, Patton hummed a blissed out, “Yes,” preemptively parting his lips.

Until it suddenly wasn’t.

The gentle caress of velvet touch was swapped for an unyielding, slimy slide against his own tongue. Remus’s breath was becoming heavier and his heart thudded through his chest and against Patton’s. He nibbled Patton’s lips and his hand wondered further and further south.

Right. This. God, Patton was feeling so many feelings and none of them were horny like he’s supposed to be!

Leaning back only as much as necessary, Remus pulled back to yank his shirt off. Remus’s one hand settled back on his thigh like it belonged there, stopping the heat escaping. He tugged at the hem of Patton’s shirt next and asked, “Is this okay?”

No! No, go back to just kissing me like you loved me at first sight! Please, go back to kissing me like you want to know me tomorrow!

“Yeah,” Patton said, despite his throat tightening.

Using much more care than he did with himself, Remus hauled Patton’s polo off. Patton felt way too naked.

Remus eventually sat back on his hunches, Patton’s legs falling away either side of his hips, and Patton could finally get a good view of him. Following a tasteful patch of chest hair, there was a trail of hair that led all the way down to his waistband. Though the thought of what it led to crossed Patton’s mind, he couldn’t help but think it just made Remus’s tummy look incredibly cuddly—

Focus Patton!

Just like he predicted, Remus’s tattoo wandered all around his torso. There were some other tattoos as well, including some old stick’n’pokes, practically indecipherable. Patton’s eyes raked over them before he remembered he should touch them too.

Settling his hand on Remus’s torso, he forced himself not to freeze. He followed his contour, along the roses, across his stomach— that really was soft, yet solid— he flinched when he grazed Remus’s waistband. Wavering, his hand fluttered back up to rest on Remus’s neck, right below his ear where his thumb bumped into a dangling earring.

A hooligan with tattoos and piercings and everything his parents would hate.

Remus’s smile was dampened with that tender look tinged with worry. Patton’s shivered. Patiently, Remus attempted to comfort him by pressing his own hand over his so Patton could feel his thrumming pulse.

He was way too damn soft than he had any right to be— why was Remus making this so difficult?

“…Are you okay, Patton?”

His vision wobbled.

Patton dragged the green devil back into a kiss. Soft, closed mouth lips just against lips. Then Remus kissed back, threatening to add in teeth again with his smile making a comeback.

But the kiss didn’t break apart because Remus couldn’t tame his grin. No, Patton couldn’t hold back his rush of tears anymore.

Patton sobbed against the lips of the stranger he thought could fix him, and broke him instead.

Despite Patton desperately clinging to his neck to keep him close, Remus ripped himself away and scrambled to the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry!” Patton curled into a ball, covering his shamefully tear streaked face, “I don’t kn-know what the he-hell is wrong with me!”

“It’s okay,” Remus whispered, “there’s nothing wrong with you, Patton.”

…

…

“We could always watch a movie instead,” Remus offered gently. “I have microwave popcorn,” he added.

Patton peaked out from behind his knees. “...Popcorn?” He sniffled.

“Popcorn.”

Remus hesitantly reached out a comforting hand. Patton snatched it up. The green angel smiled.

Maybe Remus broke him, but maybe Remus was the key to rebuilding himself, too.

[tfiolarry]

one: conincing

summary: after announcing the band’s hiatus, harry and louis announce their love, their soon-to-be marriage, and their two kids (who won’t be in a baby carriage).

[masterlist] [two]

ask us anything!

a/n: gif not ours creds to owner 

One Direction Taking Extensive Hiatus Starting Next Month!

Yes, you read the title right: One Direction is going in many directions. We know - try to remain calm, Directioners. 

As one of the biggest boy bands to take over the 2010s, selling out tours in arenas and stadiums around the world, the foursome has decided that they will be taking a break for at least a year, starting next month and following the departure of Zayn Malik. Sources tell us that they will be using this time to “pursue solo projects”, rather than promoting their fifth album, due to release later this year. 

•• 

Rumor Has It Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles Are Together!

FINALLY! Larry shippers, this one’s for you - the ship is sailing! 

Former One Direction members, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, are getting cuffing season started right with some cozy by the fireplace pics in Harry's lovely London home. 

Harry Styles posted a picture late Friday night of his feet along with another pair of feet by the fireplace. Hold the foot fetishes, guys - LARRY’S REAL. It's so obviously Louis, especially because of his famous “The Rouge” tattoos on his ankles. 

We all knew Wellington wasn’t just a figment of our imagination.

•• 

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson Are Getting Hitched!

That’s right folks, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson both liked it and appear to have put some rings on it. Finally!

Earlier tonight, Harry Styles posted an Instagram picture holding a ring with no caption, with his boyfriend-now-turned-fiancé Louis Tomlinson in the background. Not even ten minutes later, Louis posted a picture of Harry as well. The caption? “Can’t wait to say I do.” Too cute!

According to fan theory, this romance dates all the way back to their days on The X-Factor, coining the name “Larry Stylinson” to refer to this adorable pairing.(Article: “The Timeline Of Larry Stylinson, As Told By A One Direction Superfan!”) Sources have confirmed that after much time together, the two are definitely ready to “take their relationship to the next step.” 

Oh, how far they’ve come.

••

Louis Tomlinson to Paps -  “We’re in love and adopting two little girls.”

What? What? Whaaaat?

A lot to unpack here. 

While out on town today, Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles got tangled up with some nosy paparazzi. Yikes! The Hollywood Fix caught the two getting in their car asking about the engagement, when Louis frustratedly tells them that they are, in fact, very much so in love and going to be adopting children. 

• •

WEDNESDAY

4:32 PM

STYLINSON HOME - LONDON

Harry and Louis arrive at home, carrying smaller backpacks of the girls’ clothes and toys while holding their hands. They step into the foyer and Louis and Harry let go of their hands. Dani and Jordyn looking around and up at their surroundings, almost as if nonverbally asking if it’s okay to go ahead without them. 

LOUIS: You guys can go, it’s okay…

Dani and Jordyn look at each other and then run off, ending up somewhere in the living room. Louis looks at Harry, not saying anything but smiling a little.

HARRY: (looks at Louis) What? 

LOUIS: Nothing, just...it’s crazy that we actually did this. Like, they’re here in our house for real.

HARRY: (smiles too) I know, we’re, like...officially parents. (gasps while covering his mouth)

LOUIS: (laughs a little and nods) That we are. (looks at the kiddos) We should probably get them in some kind of routine, no? With their rooms and dinner and stuff? Is it too soon for that? (looks at Harry) Now I’m kinda nervous.

HARRY: (looks at the kids) Don’t be nervous, bub - we got this. We should probably get them settled in their room, though...or...rooms? Should we separate them? 

LOUIS: Maybe that’s too soon. Imagine being one of these two, tiny sorta-kinda strangers in a big, weird house with some bigger, scruffy lookin’, sorta-kinda strangers - personally, I would not wanna be alone.

HARRY: (looks at him and puts a hand on his chest) Did you just call me fat? 

LOUIS: (laughs, like genuinely) So annoying, I would never and you know that.

HARRY: (looks away) That’s right, never.

JORDYN: (knocks over a big plant and looks at Dani in a panic and whispers) Oh no.

DANI: (looks at her with wide eyes and then at Louis and Harry and then Jordyn again) Uh oh. (runs away as a small bundle of panic, hoping Jordyn follows)

JORDYN: (follows Dani)

HARRY: (watches them run away) Where are they going? (laughs and walks to see the plant is on the floor with a little dirt on the ground)

LOUIS: (follows Harry, laughing) I have no idea, I don’t even think they know where they’re going yet. (looks at the dirt on the floor) Perhaps first things first in our parent duty - get fake houseplants.

HARRY: (looks around for them) First thing is to actually clean this mess up while I go find the kids. (walks away to go look for the kiddos)

LOUIS: Aye aye, captain. (goes and grabs their broom from the kitchen and brings it to the scene of the crime, handling the fallen plant gently so he doesn’t ruin it at all and starts sweeping up the dirt)

HARRY: (goes to look in the bathroom because he hears some little voices coming from there and he peeks his head in)

JORDYN: (gasps when she sees Harry and hides behind Dani)

DANI: (pouts) Noooo….(moves from in front of Jordyn, no longer being a shield, and tries to climb in the bathtub to hide instead)

JORDYN: (whines) Dani… (pouts as well and looks at Harry with puppy eyes) I sorry.

HARRY: (smiles) It’s okay, we’re not mad or...upset or anything. (kneels down in front of Jordyn) Are you guys hungry? You want something to eat?

DANI: (gasps and gives up climbing the tub and sits on the floor instead) Yeah.

JORDYN: (just nods her head still a little nervous)

HARRY: Alright. (stands up and holds both his hands out for the girls) Let’s go eat!

JORDYN: (takes his hand)

DANI: (gets up, smiles a lot and goes to him, grabbing his hand)

HARRY: (sings) Food time. (walks out the bathroom with the girls)

JORDYN: (giggles) You funny. 

HARRY: (looks down at her) You think so?

JORDYN: (nods) 

HARRY: (looks at Dani) What about you? What do you think? 

DANI: (looks at him like she’s thinking about it, like a little head tilt and everything)

HARRY: Oh. I see how it is. 

JORDYN: (looks at her) Say he funny Dani. (pouts)

DANI: (giggles and nods) Yeah, you funny. See? (points to herself and smiles really big)

HARRY: (laughs) Very convincing, Dani, thank you.

JORDYN: (looks up at Harry) What conincing? 

DANI: (nods and looks at Harry) Yeah, what?

HARRY: (looks at both of them and then up and sees Louis) Hey sweetheart, how do you explain to three year olds what “convincing” means? 

LOUIS: (looks at him and then hums in thought before looking at Dani and Jordy) Well, I would say...convincing means...that you mean it for real. No funny stuff. 

DANI: (nods once) For real.

LOUIS: (nods back and waits for confirmation from Jordy that it makes sense to her too)

JORDYN: Okay.

HARRY: Okay, food Louis?

JORDYN: Lou Lou. (giggles)

LOUIS: Lou Lou is definitely down for food, but what are we feeding these adorable children, Harold, lover of mine and light of my life?

HARRY: Um... (looks at the girls) ...chicken tenders?

JORDYN: (eyes go so wide) Yes! Please? 

LOUIS: So that’s a winner. (to Harry) We should stock up then. (starts going to the kitchen)

WEDNESDAY

8:05 PM

STYLINSON HOME - LONDON

After dinner is done Harry and Louis make sure the girls are washed up and their teeth are brushed. They show them their room which they chat a bit about nonsense the little ones want to talk about. 

DANI: (in the middle of a story about a friend in the foster home) ...and the ball, it went—(gestures with her hand)—like that to a, um…(gestures to explain a bush with her hands) lots of leaves, and then, it was gone. (nods as if that made all the sense in the world)

LOUIS: That is quite a story, Dani, did you get it back?

DANI: Yeah.

LOUIS: I’m glad. 

JORDYN: Dani cry.

HARRY: You cried over the ball Dani? (pouts at her)

DANI: Yeah, it gone, I sad, I cry. 

LOUIS: Yeah Harry, c’mon, it only makes sense. 

DANI: (nods) For real.

JORDYN: Conincing. (nods)

HARRY: Alright, sorry, geez.

JORDY: (looks at Louis) I sleep here? (points to her bed)

LOUIS: Yeah, that’s your bed, and Dani’s gonna be over there. (points casually to the other bed, probably on the other side of the room)

DANI: (looks confused) Why?

LOUIS: Why?

DANI: Yeah.

LOUIS: ...Did you want the floor?

DANI: (looks at him even more confused than before) No? (looks at Harry) Why?

HARRY: (looks at her confused) Because that is your bed and this is Jordyn’s.

JORDYN: (pouts and looks at Dani) 

DANI: (looks at Jordyn and then at Harry and Louis) You too?

LOUIS: Us too what, love?

DANI: Like…(points to their separate beds to make a point)

LOUIS: (shakes his head) No. It’s different.

DANI: (looks at Jordyn sadly) Okay…

JORDYN: (blows kisses to Dani) We big girl, ‘member? (nods)

DANI: (shrugs) Yeah...

LOUIS: (looks at Harry, mouthing) Did we mess up already?

HARRY: (looks at Louis and shrugs) Okay, well (looks at the girls), you girls gotta go to bed and get your beauty sleep.

JORDYN: (lays down) Night night.

DANI: (baby sighs and gets off of Jordyn’s bed and shuffles over to her own and sits sadly)

LOUIS: (looks at her and laughs a little) Oh, stop it, bug, you’re not far. (nudges Jordyn) Say hi so she knows you’re still here.

DANI: No.

LOUIS: (looks at her) That won’t help?

DANI: (shakes her head and lays down too)

LOUIS: You’re so cute, c’mon…

DANI: (with all her tiny might, unmakes her bed and gets under the covers, from head to toe)

LOUIS: (looks at Harry) Should we have done bunk?

HARRY: Maybe? I’m sorry, Dani. 

JORDYN: Dani, I wuv you! 

DANI: (muffled because she’s hiding) I wuv you too. (to Harry) It’s okay. 

LOUIS: Alright, we’re gonna go now so you guys can sleep, you guys are okay, right?

DANI: (peeks from under her blanket) Yeah.

JORDY: For real. 

HARRY: (looks at Louis) Conincing. (looks back at the girls) Alright goodnight. 

LOUIS: (laughs and gets up) Goodnight, babies.

DANI: Bye bye.

Harry and Louis leave.

JORDYN: (whisper yells) Dani! 

DANI: (looks at Jordyn all smiley) Hi. (giggles) 

A/N: we were fourteen and had big dreams of becoming fic writers. the idea for the fault in our larents came to be for the mere reason of creating a dream life using a ship we both loved - the one and only larry stylinson. over the years (yes, literal years) the story has evolved and grown, including other generations and going through a few rewrites until it became the version in which we present today. blood, sweat, fights and tears have been poured into this. pls enjoy it.

[bapyess1r]

I Like You A Lot

WARNINGS: SMUUUUUTTTTT

Pairings: Sam x OC, OC x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch, @courtenbae

Chapter 3

Sam’s POV

I woke up feeling good. Kind of groggy but good overall. Snoring loudly in my arms was this tiny woman who I hadn’t seen in months. She was still fast asleep so I took a few moments to wake myself up, admiring her as she snoozed. Her hair had grown since I saw her last. Into a shaggy, curly bob. It was cute on her but I guaranteed it was just because she was too tired to cut it since Libertalia. All her freckles were still gracing her precious cheeks but she was paler than I remembered. Like she hadn’t seen any sun in a while. Her forehead wrinkled and her brows furrowed in her sleep. Like she’d been thinking too much right before she drifted off. I wanted to relax her so I pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. Just like that the tension eased and she wasn’t frowning anymore. She stirred in her sleep as I pushed her curls off her face. She nuzzled her face against my chest and moaned slightly before turning around in my arms with her back to me.

Hearing her moan struck something in me that I had absolutely no control over. A boner came on. Lost in my sleepy, hungover haze, I inched closer to her. I wanted to initiate something last night but the timing just wasn’t right. But this morning was a brand new day and there was no better time to touch her than before starting the craziness of her day. I let my fingers ghost down her neck, back, and shoulder as I pressed my hips against her round ass, grinding into her gently. She wiggled a little bit against me and I pulled her hair back, pressing slow and warm kisses up her neck. I could hear her gasping while my free hand roamed her body, trailing across her abdomen and hips. I kissed over her ear and she let out another small moan. Liking the way she sounded, I sat myself up on my elbow to continue kissing and nibbling her ear as my hand slipped between her legs, touching her through her shorts. She inhaled sharply, her hips rocking against my fingers gently as I stroked her in small circles. Her hips bucked a moment and her ass backed up into me. I growled a little as I pressed deep kisses in the crook of her neck and she exhaled with a sweet whispery laugh. I gave a raspy amused chuckle at her reaction and began pushing down her shorts. I snaked my fingers between her legs again to feel the wetness in her folds and moaned against her skin, kissing over her shoulder blade.

Heat began to build between us as my fingers dove in and out of her. She whimpered as I teased her dripping cunt, her chest heaving. I couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted to be inside her. I pushed my sweatpants, taking the boxers with it and my cock sprung out, smacking against her ass. I groaned as I guided myself to her honey pot and slowly eased myself into her. She let a loud cry, throwing her head back, and I gave her a moment to get used to the feel of me again. My hand cupped her throat as I began slowly thrusting into her. I panted in her ear as I fucked her gently. I could feel the vibrations from her moans in my palm.

I laughed at her hazy lust as I gripped tighter onto her waist and picked up the pace, pinching her nipples through her thin navy tank top. I fucked her right out of her sleep. The more vocal she became, the more awake she was and the more she reacted. She was loud and whiny, calling my name with so much need as she grabbed onto my wrists. A weak sigh left my lips as I felt an orgasm coming on. In the heat of the moment, I turned us over so that she was on her stomach, her face buried in her pillow. I snapped my hips into hers, fucking her deeper into the mattress with every squeak and whine that spilled past her lips. I felt her walls tighten around my cock and she milked me dry until I felt my soul practically leave my body. I fell limp over her and she groaned under my weight.

“Get off me, you heavy little shit!” She giggled, trying to lift me up. I smiled, eventually rolling off of her and laying next to her, just admiring her. I could honestly look at her face all day and never get tired of it. I didn’t care if she thought otherwise because it just wasn’t true. She was indeed the most beautiful woman around. I pulled her close as our foreheads touched and she grinned at me. “Good mornin’, Sam…”

“Mornin’...” I whispered to her.

“You hungry?” She asked me and I just nodded. “Mmkay. You gotta let me get up then.” She chuckled trying to pry my arms from around her but I just buried my face in her chest in protest. “Sam…” she sang and I reluctantly let her go. I watched her walk around, cleaning herself up and I figured maybe I should do the same. She grabbed a silky navy kimono with pink and white birds embroidered on it with exquisite detail and wrapped it around her shapely body, tying it up. After cleaning myself up, I pulled on my sweatpants again and followed her to the kitchen.

I sat at the island counter as she turned on some morning tunes and began to fix coffee and lit herself a cigarette. She had cinnamon rolls that she’d yet to make so she just plopped them on a tray and pre-heated the oven. She looked so perfect, just walking around the way she did. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her as she passed me. I’d been feeling very frisky since I woke up. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her so that she was standing between my legs, looking up at me. My hands travelled up her back as I kissed her deeply. My hands ran over her ass and I just couldn’t help but to squeeze it.

She giggled and I lifted her up and sat her on the counter before me, untying her kimono and kissing along her collarbone. She didn’t try to stop me in the least. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was enjoying it more than me; which was impossible at this point. Her legs wrapped around my waist and her fingers clawed through my hair as I ravaged her with needy, long overdue kisses. Though we just had sex not even ten minutes ago, she had me ready to go again and I was feeling especially spicy for some reason. And I was more than willing to let her have every part of me. I let my thumbs scoop under the hem of her pale pink thong as my hands groped at her hips. I smiled at the sound of her sensually playful giggles filling the air as I lowered myself, lifting up the front of her tank top to kiss over her stomach and made my way to the crooks of her hips. I kneeled before her, gripping her thighs tightly as I licked from her knee to the center and began massaging her through her panties with my mouth; a hungry growl escaped as I did. She let out a sweet breathless twitter of laughter as she hung a leg over my shoulder. Just as I hooked my finger around to pull the thin piece of clothing aside, there was a knock at the door. She let out a frustrated sigh as I groaned in vexation.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” I growled, throwing my head back. She giggled at my distraughtness and ran her fingers through my hair, kissing my forehead. She closed up her knees slowly and pulled her silky kimono close to her magnificent body, tying it up teasingly. It was an absolute crime. I kissed her lips smoothly with a slight snarl and she pulled away smiling.

“I should get that.” she mewed against my lips, beginning to get off the counter and I grunted, shaking my head as I stood.

“Fuck no you won’t! I wanna see who’s interrupting my very valuable recreation time.” I smirked, winking at her as I powered to the door, lighting myself a cigarette. I didn’t bother putting on a shirt. Maybe I’d scare somebody off. I hoped I would. I took a puff and opened the door only to be met with a tall, scrawny looking white guy lifting up his shirt to display an honest to god well done Norse bird tattoo on his chest among others. The excitement in his face died when his eyes met mine. I must not have been who he was expecting. I just stared at him, smoking laxly as he put his shirt down slowly to cover his bird chest (in the physical and literal sense) in embarrassment.

He stood about 6’0” even, covered in tattoos from the chest down. His eyebrows were thick and angled like he was permanently angry or something. His hair was short, dark, and spikey, his hairline receding a bit at the temples but he didn’t seem to mind. He was skinny as hell but it did seem as though he’s tried to gain a bit of muscle. His choice of clothing confused me a little though. A burgundy flower printed shirt left unbuttoned to the chest and black adidas sweatpants with a pair of combat boots. I wasn’t sure if he was going to the beach, the gym, or to war. But he wore it like it was a million dollar suit.

“You’re not Sunny.” he said in a thick british accent. I furrowed my brows with attitude as he crossed his stringy arms across his chest.

“Yeah, no shit. Who the hell are you?” I asked, leaning into the doorway, slightly flexing and doing my best to intimidate him. Although, it seemed I didn’t really need to try too hard. I felt Sunny’s small hand at the base of my back and she peeked around me with an awkward grin.

“Erik! What are you doin’ here?” she asked as she quickly fixed her hair. His olive green eyes never left mine as he answered her in a casual tone, despite my being there.

“I uh… came to grab ya for brekkie… But then Hercules Mulligan here practically told me to piss off but in so many words.” he said with a quick witted tongue. I contorted my face in surprise as he sold me out rather quickly. Sunny frowned at me and raised a sculpted brow.

“Who even is this guy?” I asked, gesturing to him with the burning cigarette between my lips. She slipped by me and wrapped her arms around his skinny waist and he draped a long arm over her shoulder.

“Sam, this is Erik Tales. My best friend.” she said as he rested a pointed scruffy chin on the top of her head in a brotherly manner. I didn’t know this guy. ‘Yo, who the hell is this guy?!’ I thought as I placed a hand on my hip as I looked at the pair.

“I thought Nathan was your best friend.” I commented in confusion.

“Well yeah but when I’m not there with him…. This guy is always around.” She smiled at him with a certain pride that I had seen when she looked at my brother. Then she looked to me with a semblance of enamor and back to this guy. “Erik… this is Samuel Drake...” I puffed my chest a bit as she introduced me to him however, in all actuality, I was still confused. But he looked at me with a hint of worry. His thick, neat eyebrows shot up as he did.

“Fuck off- Samuel Drake as in Libertalia?! That Samuel Drake?” he asked, switching his gaze constantly between the two of us. I decided to play cocky.

“The one and only.” I smirked, taking a drag of my cigarette. He just nodded and stared at me incredulously. His eyes narrowed at me for a time and I was just waiting for what he had to say.

“What the hell is wrong with you, ya bellend?! You could’ve gotten her killed!” He suddenly snapped but Sunny covered his mouth with a small hand. As they looked at each other, they seemed to hold a whole conversation with their eyes. Eventually, he threw his head back, rolling his eyes as Sunny leaned into the doorway.

“Apologies, mate. I tend to get very protective over my little Sunflower.” He said to me with a slight smirk. Sunny donned a pleased expression as she watched him attempt to say his sorrys. ‘My little Sunflower?!’ I thought suddenly. I hated it. The whole situation. I hated that he called her that and I hated him. I didn’t even know the guy but I already didn’t like him. And I’m sure the feeling was mutual from the way his eyes bore holes into mine. I raised a brow and straightened my posture. Sunny stood between the two of us, rolling her eyes at our silent pissing contest.

“Both of you are sooo fuckin’ childish.” She grumbled, pushing past me to go into the kitchen, leaving us to stare at each other primally. “I’m making cinnamon rolls and coffee. You want?” I heard her shout from the stove. Erik just shoved his hands in his pockets as he answered.

“Of course, love. When do I ever say no to cinnamon rolls?” He said, walking inside the apartment, his eyes never leaving mine. I huffed in annoyance as I closed the door. He sat at her small black dinner table and Sunny came from around the island with two mugs. One she handed to me and I thanked her with a smile, leaning on the counter. Then she handed the other to Erik to which he sent a wink her way. “So Samuel-”

“It’s just Sam.” I corrected him, sourly sipping the fresh black coffee. He smirked and forced a chuckle.

“Samuel… What brings you to San Francisco so suddenly?” He asked rather smugly. I opened my mouth to speak; probably something a little out of pocket but suddenly Sunny arrived at the table with a mug of her own, interrupting me.

“He brought me a job.” She said simply. I looked at her in surprise.

“Really now? So soon? You haven’t even had a chance to fix the devices from the last one.” He said to her.

“Yeah but this job will be slightly different.” She informed him before sipping her black coffee, sending me a wink. I grinned into my cup as she spoke.

“Where ya goin’?” He asked.

“India.” We both replied at the same time. I fought off a smile as she smirked at me. Erik’s expression faltered a bit as his gaze bounced between the two of us. He frowned.

“Also… he’s my new roommate…” she said gently. His brows shot up as he choked on his coffee a bit.

“Roommate?!” He exclaimed. I was as surprised as he was. “You rooming with the convict?”

“Aye- ex convict.” I corrected him.

“Same difference, mate. If you did it, you did it-”

“Erik, Jesus!” Sunny exclaimed, smacking the back of his head and he let out a yelp.

“What prompted this change?” He asked, rubbing his head.

“Sunny got fired.” I said simply and his eyes widened. She shot me a look and I bit my lip. If I was a little closer, she would’ve hit me too.

“You what?!” He exclaimed in disbelief.

“It was his fault!” She said defensively. “He punched Jet in the fucking face!”

“I didn’t like the way he was talkin’ to you.” I said with a raised brow and a shrug. My actions were valid in my opinion.

“Well good on ya. Somebody had to do it.” He grumbled. Then he brought his gaze to Sunny again. “I wish you would’ve called me. You know I would let you stay with me-”

“And you know I’d say no. I almost told him no but money is tight and I could use all the help I can get.” She told him. He wasn’t happy about our moving in together but truthfully, I didn’t care. It’s not like I was gonna stop banging her just because he didn’t like it. “You can help me move though! I’m gonna need it.”

Erik stayed for breakfast and I could absolutely confirm that I didn’t like this guy. He was way too close to Sunny for my liking and no I’m not jealous. They had their little inside jokes and he would lay his head on her shoulder or randomly hug her. He showed off his bird chest to her and she inspected it carefully, telling him the artist missed a spot and that she’d fix it later. On the plus side, having him around helped me learn a lot more about her and I loved what I was hearing. She could draw very good small tattoos. Erik’s body was covered in them. She promised to touch up the ones I had and maybe even give me a new one, which I very much looked forward to. She could do a pretty spot on Stevie Nicks impersonation, build a car from scratch, cook a full thanksgiving meal, and fix a phone back to perfection. Considering our line of work, that last one was a very handy skill.

When Erik left, Sunny wrapped her arms around my bare waist as I leaned on the couch. I looked over my shoulder and she gave me the most heartwarming cheeky smile. I couldn’t help but smile back at her. I turned around to embrace her and kissed the top of your head.

“He seemed nice.” I said sarcastically. She laughed out loud and shook her head.

“He had quite a lot to say about you when I came back from Libertalia.” She said, throwing her arms around my neck, poking my nose with her finger.

“Did he now?” I made a face at her. “I think I can handle Erik Tales.”

“He’s a soft lil’ string bean. He talks a lotta shit though.” She told me, stroking the curls at my nape.

“I gathered that. What I really wanna talk about though….” I sat down on the arm of the couch as she stood between my legs. “When did you decide?” I asked her.

“When I realized we were gonna get paid for finding the Tusk-”

“Not about the job. I knew you’d take it no matter what you said. I meant about the roommate situation.” I

“Well I…. I mean it’s just two people- two adults…. with very similar lifestyles…” she began as my hands began to feel her up again. She stuttered a bit and I smirked at her cuteness.

“Uh huh… and?” I teased, reaching for the belt of her kimono and untying it slowly.

“And… it’s logical.” She tried. She really did. But I was clearly distracting her as my fingertips ghosted over her thighs.

“Logical.” I nodded, pretending I was listening.

“Mhmm and uh… work…” she mentioned as I pulled her close and lifted her shirt a little to kiss her stomach and along the hem of her panties.

“You would constantly have a job. And...” I told her between kisses. Her eyes rolled as she threw her head back.

“And?” She asked, opening her big brown eyes to look at me. I gave a mischievous grin and picked her up to toss her on the couch and cover her body with mine. She giggled as I peppered her face with kisses.

“We can do this all the time…” I smiled, kissing her down to pick up where I left off...

[she-is-tim]

I love hating you | Elu enemies to lovers AU | Ch. 8

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6.5, 7

Lucas is an angry, closeted and frustrated gay teenager, while Eliott is the handsome, smart and popular guy in school. They hate each other… but not forever.

I want the best for you

Lucas was staring at his phone for probably an hour or so. He was at the flat with the boys, sitting on the couch. They were playing some video game, but he couldn’t care much. He kept checking his followers on instagram, seeing the blessed username still being there. Of course he immediately followed Eliott back, but since then there was no sign of him. He didn’t text Lucas or liked any other posts on his profile. He was still nervous, afraid that it was just a mistake and the boy could unfollow him at any second. 

When he was refreshing his follower list for like the hundredth time, Yann let out an annoyed sigh and snatched the phone from his hand. Lucas made an inhuman noise, getting the attention to the other two friends. Basile quickly paused the game. The short boy still tried to get back his phone, but his best friend had long arms and kept him back by placing his hand on Lucas’ chest. 

“No, this stays at my hands. You are being obsessed, man. What are you even looking at?” he asked, checking the phone screen and rolled his eyes. “Are you serious? He’s not gonna unfollow you.”

“Why not? Maybe it was a mistake and he will unfollow when he notices...” he started to ramble.

“Lucas, he’s trying to reach out, you shouldn’t be so worried about it.” Arthur said with a serious look, putting the controller on the coffee table. 

“But what if...”

“Lucas, just stop talking.” Basile said, surprising his friends yet once again. “You said that you like this guy, right? He’s out there, liking the post you made about him, following you on instagram and sending you drawings. What is holding you back? He is into you, I’m sure about that.” his face was serious, looking straight into his friend’s eyes, Lucas couldn’t respond to that, because he had a good point. Arthur on the other hand was smiling brightly, making him look even more handsome. 

“Baz, you really make that damned braincell work hard lately.” he said and squeezed his friend’s shoulder proudly. 

Yann smirked too, still holding Lucas’ phone in his hands, making sure that his best friend doesn’t check his instagram again. The short boy sighed with a fond smile on his face, then he got up to bring some beer from the kitchen. Not too much, since it was only wednesday, but they still can have some fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he was together with the boys like this. Just chilling home, playing video games, drinking beer and talking shit. 

Thursday went by eventless, Lucas didn’t see Eliott all day, even though they wew supposed to have literature together. He got just a tiny bit worried, but he tried to live up to what Basile said to him, But he couldn’t help himself. After school, he had to open his chat with Eliott and the chaotic idiot in his head decided to text him.

lucallemant Literature was boring today, we were talking about Rouge et Noir, did you read that one? 

He locked his phone now and put it down next to him on the couch, trying to focus his brain on the tv. Lisa was sitting not too far from him, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the screen with the dumbest face she could just make. Lucas smiled a little, he started to like her inevitable presence here, it made him feel like he wasn’t alone. He got up and walked to the kitchen, making some sandwiches, since he just noticed how hungry he was. 

When he finished eating, he walked back to the living room, hopping down next to his flatmate, who let out a disapproving groan. Lucas giggled, grabbing his phone and checking it. He almost had a heart attack when he saw Eliott’s username on the screen, unlocking it quickly and checking the message he got from him. 

srodulv Yeah, it’s a great book, you should read it too 

Lucas heart started to beat insanely fast and he wished he could have a room to run back to. He wanted to jump up and down in happiness, squealing like a baby seal and then throw himself on the bed as he types an answer. But he had to accept the little space on the couch, pulling up his legs, shaking uncontrollably. He had to start the sentence at least five times, because he kept making typos and writing stupid shit. He had to keep himself at the subject and not bringing up things between them. Eliott answered because he was talking about literature, which is one of his favorite subject in school. 

lucallemant I’m not a big reader and that book is LONG 

srodulv Books are supposed to be long

lucallemant Yeah, not my thing

srodulv You are just one grumpy hedgehog, huh? 

lucallemant I guess that’s my speciality

After that he got no response, but he still felt like he is the happiest guy on this planet. He hugged the phone to his chest, enjoying the serenity taking over his thoughts. Long minutes passed and the light buzz in his hand pulled him out of his thoughts. He was hoping it was a message from Eliott, but he felt just a little disappointment seeing the username of the sender.

sofalaoui Did you do something?  Lucas, he is fucking smiling I can’t explain how happy this makes me, but he’s smiling again 

Lucas was overwhelmed by his own feelings that these messages caused him. It was from Eliott’s best friend, who knew him better than anyone. He was saying that Eliott, the guy he was head over heels for is smiling again, after long times of being sad and depressed. He couldn’t handle this, so he just went to the bathroom, washing his face and staring at his reflection for long, agonizing minutes. 

He got startled by the knocking on the door. It was Lisa, she had to use the bathroom, so Lucas left and took his opportunity to lay on the couch. He was holding his phone to his chest, humming happily. Minutes passed when he felt buzzing, quickly checking what it was. Another text from Eliott.

srodulv So Rouge et Noir is the current book? 

lucallemant Yeah

srodulv Okay, just wanna make sure I’ll catch up on things for tomorrow

Lucas felt his heart beating in his throat, reading the text over and over again. Was this meaning that Eliott will come to school tomorrow? That they will have literature together? After such a long time. He tried to breathe through his nose, calm down his heart while he texted back.

lucallemant Good, gotta keep up that reputation of yours, right? 

srodulv Sort of 

lucallemant Tomorrow is going to be a long day

srodulv Why is that? 

lucallemant Daphné asked me and the boys to repaint that mural from hell after school

srodulv I see

Lucas didn’t know what to answer to that. He didn’t wanted to seem pushy by inviting Eliott to the common rom with them. It wasn’t easy for him to text back, so he probably doesn’t wanna rush meeting in person. And they will have literature together, so he’s going to see and be close to Eliott no matter what. At least he was hoping that it will be the case.

In the morning Lucas panicked. He was running around in the house, into the bathroom, then to the kitchen, back to the living room and repeated that circle until he bumped into a really annoyed Mika. The older boy grabbed his waist, making sure that he stops whatever he was doing and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Kitten, I’d really appreaciate if you’d stop this like right now.” he said, sounding like a disapproving parent.

“But Mika... I don’t know what to do, Eliott is going to come to school today and we’ll be having a class together and I just...”

“Okay, stop.” Mika raised his hand to stop his flatmate from rambling. “Is Eliott the guy you like? The one you had a thing with? That broke your heart?” he asked, raising his eyebrows so high they disappeared behind his dark locks.

“Yeah... also no. I mean, he didn’t break my heart... not completely...” he mumbled and looked at the ceiling now, letting out quiet curses under his breath before continuing. “I am still into him and it seems like he feels the same... we just had a conflict.” he tried to explain things without saying too much. It was burning inside him to tell people why it was difficult with Eliott, but he knew that sharing information about his mental illness wasn’t something he could just do.

“Okay, so you are so whipped for this Eliott guy that you don’t know... What to wear to school?” Mika asked, voice a bit high-pitched, a playful smirk appearing on his face and Lucas can feel the blush taking place on his cheeks.

“Well... I just... It’s not...” he mumbled and then just sighed. “Yeah, sort of.” he admitted. 

After that there was a really long and painful moment where Mika tried to pick him nice clothes that Lucas dismissed immediately. He tried to fix his hair, but the boy cut him off after he saw the hair products in his flatmate’s hand. All in all he put on navy blue jeans, a nice grey shirt and his favorite grey hoodie. He packed up black sweatpants and a shirt too, just to not ruin his outfit during the painting after school. 

He finally left the place, hearing Mika yelling stupid shit after him like “Go get him, tiger” and “Make that man yours”. Lucas felt really embarrassed and just wanted to get to school in one piece, without having a heart attack. At least his stupid flatmate helped him forget about the Eliott issue. He only remembered it again when he entered the school building and saw him. Standing by the lockers, cocky smile on his face as he talked to Alex. 

Lucas stopped by the doorway, staring at him, like he’s a unique statue on an exhibition. He could be. Considering that he looked so damn fine on this beautiful friday morning. Hair messy like always, shining in the sunlight, wearing black jeans, black shirt and a navy blue denim jacket. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and that sweet tattoo on it. Lucas remembered how many times he traced his fingers up and down, kissing it even. 

He got so lost in his thoughts that he jumped a little when Alex yelled his name. His face felt much more warm that it should have been as he looked up from Eliott’s forearm and their eyes met. There was something in them that made Lucas’ stomach do a backflip. He couldn’t look away, especially not when that familiar, soft smile started to take place on the tall boy’s face. His heart fluttered in his chest. 

“Lucas, are you here?” he jumped yet once again when Alex snapped his fingers just inches from his face.

“What? Who... Yeah, I’m here.” he mumbled, shaking his head and looking away from Eliott, who stayed at his place thank god. “Good morning, Alex.”

“Morning.” he said with a wide smirk now. “How’s it going today?” 

“Good... yeah, I’m doing okay. What about you?” he asked, trying to play cool, not glancing over the tall, handsome boy who seemed to have fun watching him being awkward. Fuck you for being so smooth, Eliott! 

“I’m fine. You know, Eliott and I were just talking about my party tonight.” he explained.

“You’re throwing a party again?” Lucas raised his eyebrows. “But you had a party like... two or three weeks ago.” 

“What can I say? I love doing parties and my parents are always out for business.” he said smirking, shrugging it off easily. “You wanna come?” 

“I’m not sure. I have to repaint the mural in the common room with the guys. You know Daphné, she’ll kill us if we don’t do it now.” he said with an apologetic smile. He really wanted to go, especially if Eliott will be there, but he can’t choose him over his friends once again. That would be a dick move after all of their support.

“Sure, I get it.” Alex said and gently punched him on the shoulder. “Take care, little one.” he smirked and walked back to Eliott. 

Lucas let out a sigh as he watched the two boys just walking away. He pulled out his phone to check something, probably the time, but he wasn’t even sure, when a notification popped up at the top of his screen that he got a message. He clicked on it and almost had a heart attack.

srodulv You look pretty when you blush

Okay, this was not the right time to panic, but Eliott was just straight up flirting with him, shamelessly. While they were on bad therms. He didn’t know what to respond, so he just shoved his phone into his bag and walked to his class. This was making no sense. Eliott ignored him for almost a whole week, avoiding the only class they shared and now he was back with his cheesy flirts and soft smiles? How is he supposed to react to that? 

Lucas didn’t know how to feel during the day, especially not when literature class came and he had to sit next to Eliott. The boy seemed to be in a good mood, but they haven’t really talked to each other, he was actually doodling in his notebook during the whole class. It was just weird and Lucas started to have doubts. He really liked Eliott and wanted to try this relationship with him, but these sudden changes just made him confused. He was thinking that this might be because of his bipolarity, but he had to get rid of that thought. He had to shut out the negativity and just jump into this. It was something that made him happy, made him feel things he never felt before. This was the right thing. 

Lucas was mad when the boys said they will be late. He just finished his classes, walking towards the common room. It was already 15:34 and he still had to wait for that three idiots to get their shit together. He didn’t wanted to stay in school until midnight to paint a damn wall. Not like he had better things to do and he really hoped that his friends weren’t planning on ditching him. He put away his phone after texting back the boys, opening the heavy door. 

The common room looked so different, furniture moved to the sides, covered in plastic sheets, so is the floor, while the ugly ass mural was now fully visible in its terrible glory, having two spotlight on the sides of it. Lucas was glad that Daphné and the girls did the preparations and bought the paints for them, because he had no patience for that part. But he suddenly forgot everything when he saw a person, standing in front of the mural, hands shoved into his pockets. Lucas could only see his back, but he could pick out that hair from the biggest crowd anytime.

“Eliott...” he mumbled, dropping his bag on the floor. The door behind him slammed shut loudly, which startled the tall boy. He turned around and looked at Lucas with a shy smile on his face.

“Hey.” 

“What are you doing here?” he asked shocked, looking around to make sure no one else is in the room. It was just the two of them. 

“I was the one who offered to repaint the mural in the first place.” He said and shrugged. 

“That’s true... but I told you that I’ll do it with the guys.” he mumbled, talking nonsense, since his brain decided to take off the rest of the day apparently.

“Lucas, can you please notice that I’m trying my very best to have a face to face talk with you... alone.” he said, looking serious now, turning his whole body towards the short boy. Lucas had troubles breathing now, but his legs moved on their own, walking forward until it was just a few steps between them. 

“Okay then. I am here, we are alone.” he said, looking into the stormy eyes, feeling everything at once. Attraction, nervousness, fear, excitement, happiness, sadness. It was overwhelming, but he could handle it, if Eliott was there by his side.

“I think you should tell your friends to not come.” Eliott suggested with a little smile on his face. “If you really want us to have alone time...” 

Lucas just nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening the chat with the boys. He felt a bit bad that he’s ditching them once again, but this was important for him and Eliott. They had to talk and if it had to happen in the common room while painting a fucking wall, then so be it. 

Lucas Guys, I’m so sorry, but can you not come to the common room today? 

Arthur What’s wrong? We’ll be there, just late.

Yann  Yeah, don’t be so upset, Lulu

Basile I have great ideas

Lucas It’s not that... Eliott is here and i wanna be alone with him 

Arthur Woah, that was unexpected

Yann I don’t like this... 

Lucas It’s gonna be fine, and he was the one who offered Daphné to repaint this shit anyways, so...

Basile But I wanted to impress Daphné...

Yann We’ll go somewhere to drink You do you and smooth things out with that guy, Lulu

Arthur Good luck

Lucas sighed and put away his phone, looking at Eliott, who was now looking through the buckets of paints, checking all the colors. He opened the white ones, also grabbing a paint roller. The boy had to smile seeing his determined expression. He really wanted to make something out of this mural. 

“I told the guys.” he said which got the other’s attention quickly, glancing at Lucas over his shoulder. 

“Good, help me with this then.” he said and nodded his head towards the supplies. “Grab a roller, we’ll be painting it white first, making a clean canvas.” 

“Sure thing.” he said and did exactly what Eliott asked him to. 

They both had a bucket of white paint, starting to cover up the mural with it. None of them said a word during the process, but it felt alright. Lucas was sure that this was just to make both of them relaxed and comfortable before starting the real conversation. He hoped that the tall boy will soon open up to him, telling him whatever he feels about him... about whatever is going on between them. 

“You failed there.” he heard suddely, being startled by the closeness of the voice. Eliott was stading right next to him, pointing to a little spot where the mural was still visible under the paint.

“That wasn’t on purpose.” he mumbled, feeling dizzy now that this handsome, tall boy was being so close. 

“I can’t let you fail like that on me.” 

“I am not failing on you. Have some trust in me.” he said a bit angrily, looking at the boy, who now had a huge, blinding smile on his face. Lucas let out a relieved sigh. “You are beautiful when you smile.” he mumbled, surprising both Eliott and himself. 

“Say that again.” the tall boy demanded, leaning close to him. Lucas blushed heavily, turning his head away, staring at the almost fully covered mural. He made a squeaky noise when Eliott slid an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. “I missed you.” he whispered, resting his chin on the boy’s shoulder now. Lucas shivered and turned back to face Eliott, their lips were almost touching like that. He looked into the stormy grey eyes, letting out a soft sigh which made the tall one smile softly.

“I missed you too, Eliott.” he mumbled, letting the paint roller slip out of his hand, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck. 

“I think we have things to talk about.” he kept whispering, leaning his forehead to Lucas’. “I said... mean things to you.”

“Yeah, but so did I.” he admitted and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. “I hit you... I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“I kinda deserved it...”

“No, you didn’t.” Lucas shook his head and slid his hands on Eliott’s face, cupping it gently. “All of this was my fault, I kissed you in public, not the other way around.” he said and sighed. 

“I should have told you about my bipolarity sooner.” 

“Listen here... Having a mental illness is something people can’t just talk about casualy. I understand why you were hesitating with it.” Lucas smiled, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. “You know... my mother is ill too.” he said suddenly, feeling like he had to get this rock off his chest, be honest with this guy in front of him. 

“What?” Eliott asked a bit shocked, leaning back a little so he could study the boy’s face. 

“She thinks that the apocalypse is coming, that Jesus and God are talking through her to save our soul.” he started, looking into the other’s eyes. “She is going to therapies and doing well, but sometimes she snaps. I don’t see her often, because... we had a hard time in my family. My father left us last year, cause he couldn’t handle her outbursts, then my mom’s condition got worse, I had to skip school to stay home with her, but I was just so useless... The only thing my father did for her was to hire a nurse and pay for her therapy. I was really sad and upset those days, Mika found me in front of a gay bar, totally wasted. He took me to his place and let me stay in their basement for a few weeks. When Manon found out about me, she was already packing up to London, so she let me take her room.” he finished his story with a deep sigh, leaning his forehead on Eliott’s chest. He couldn’t say anymore, this was already too much at once. His fucked up family could be enough reason for the boy to leave him right now, before things go further. 

“Okay...” Eliott sighed and wrapped both of his arms around Lucas now, pulling him as close as possible, burying his face into the soft hair. “Thank you for telling me all that.” he said softly. “I guess it’s my turn to share my dark backstory now.” his tone was a bit playful which made Lucas smile. He looked up at Eliott with that blissed expression on his face that was basically too seductive for the tall boy. He had to breathe in and then out, holding himself back from kissing this beautiful person in his arms. 

“You don’t have to.” Lucas said softly. “I can wait.”

“I really don’t think I deserve you, Lucas.” he sighed now, touching their foreheads again. “I’ve been through so much shit in my life... especially after I got diagnosed... And here you are, looking at me like that... making me harder to not kiss you.”

“Why can’t you kiss me?” he pouted, looking like a sweet hedgehog now who didn’t get his afternoon cuddles. Eliott chuckled. 

“Because we have a wall to paint.” he started, nodding towards the almost completely white wall. “And serious things to talk about.” he said, cupping the boy’s face now. “If I kiss you, we wouldn’t be talking, just making out and I will be fine with it... but there’s things I have to tell you.” 

“We will have time to talk...”

“No, Lucas.” he sighed and let him go now, taking a few steps back. He needed to keep distance, otherwise he would do something he doesn’t want to, just yet. 

“It’s okay, I am not scared.” the boy said seriously.

“You should be.” Eliott said now, looking at him dead in the eye. “There will be times when I won’t be nice, Lucas. When I don’t want you around. I will yell, send you away, slam doors at you... I will hurt you and I don’t think I could survive that. I want the best for you, but that is not me.” his voice cracked at the end, eyes filling with tears. He couldn’t look at the short boy in front of him, he just couldn’t do it. He had to say this to make things clear. He had to break things for good. 

“Okay, that is a bullshit.” Lucas said angrily, putting his hands on his hips. Eliott’s head shot up, looking at him in disbelief.

“Say what?” 

“I said that is a total bullshit. You can’t tell me what is good or bad for me. This is my life, Eliott. If I wanna jump into a relationship with a guy who has bipolar disorder, then so be it. You can’t stop me, because I know you want it to. So cut the bullshit.” he said with a serious and determined look on his face. 

Eliott was just staring at him for a few minutes before a huge smile spread on his face. He took that few steps towards Lucas, scooping him up into his arms into a bone-crashing hug. The short boy laughed happily, hugging him back immediately. They looked into each other’s eyes and not knowing who made the first move, they were kissing. Wildly, passionately, trying to catch up on all those missed out days they weren’t together. Eliott let Lucas down, leaning after him, not letting go of his lips for one second. He held his waist, keeping him close and enjoying this sweet moment. 

Lucas was incredibly happy, feeling the butterflies flutter in his stomach as he wrapped his arms around Eliott’s neck. Their lips were making sloppy and slurping noises. After some time they got a bit dizzy and the tall boy tried to find themselves a solid place to sit down to, but he stumbled into a bucket of red paint, causing him and Lucas to fall, right into the paint. They looked at each other shocked first and then started laughing. Lucas dipped his hand into the bucket and wiped it into Eliott’s shirt. The older boy didn’t let this unanswered, he pulled closer a bucket of blue paint and sprinkled Lucas’ shirt with it. They continued this until their clothes were completely covered in paint, just like their hands, but then Eliott grabbed the short boy’s face, pulling him into a demanding kiss. 

Hours later they were standing in front of the repainted mural, looking like they were swimming in a pool of paint. Following Eliott’s suggestion, they tried to do some Jackson Pollock-looking galaxy out of it. The base was blue, pink and purple mixed together quite well, then above that just while, yellow and light blue sprinkled stains. Lucas was actually proud of their work, ignoring the fact that they totally ruined their clothes and wasted way too many paint in the process. Daphné will understand for sure. 

The dried paint on their face, their clothes and in their hair started to feel uncomfortable, but it was kind of embarrassing to leave the room like this. They could still hear some students walking and talking on the hallway. It wouldn’t be hard to make an excuse, but since both of their mouth were a shade of purple mixed from blue and red paint, that couldn’t be explained easily. Lucas glanced at Eliott, who was staring at their work with a satisfied expression on his face.

“We should take a shower.” Lucas said which catched Eliott’s attention. The tall boy looked at him, raising his eyebrows playfully, which made Lucas blush. Thankfully it wasn’t visible with all that paint covering his cheeks. “To get rid of the paint.” he said, trying to sound serious. “I’m pretty sure it’s not good for our skin to have this much paint on it.”

“It might not be healthy, but you look damn hot like this.” he said smirking, while Lucas rolled his eyes. 

“Sure, yeah.” he said clearly unimpressed and walked to his backpack now. He heard the steps behind him on the plastic sheet. Good thing Daphné covered the whole floor, because there was a lot of paint everywhere. 

“How about you get your attention back on me, huh?” Eliott said, sounding like a stubborn child. Lucas shot him a disapproving look over his shoulder before he continued searching in his bag. 

“I have clothes to change to. What about you?” he asked now that he found his jeans and clean shirt. 

“All i have is you, right here, showing that fine butt of yours to me, which is quite impressive, I gotta say.” Eliott replied which made the short boy to turn around and gave him the look, again. 

“Eliott Demaury, stop with the flirting. We gotta wash off the paint.” he said seriously, but a little smile was playing on his lips. He couldn’t be mad at this gorgeous person who made him so damn happy today. 

“Okay then.” he gave up, raising his hands now with a cheeky smile. “Let’s go.”

Lucas woke up feeling all sorts of pain in his body. His head felt dizzy, like he was drinking last night, which he was sure he didn’t do. He opened his eyes and turned to his side, but was shocked that he was alone in his “bed”. He sat up so quickly the rom started to spin with him a little. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and looking around. He was in the living room, on the pulled out couch, half naked under the blanket, arms still stained with paint, but Eliott was nowhere to be found. 

He felt waves of feelings washing over him, his eyes filling with tears. He thought that all of yesterday was just Eliott’s way to say goodbye and let him go. That their relationship ended even before it could start. He almost started crying when the tall boy appeared in the living room with two plates in his hands, wearing nothing but a boxer and Lucas’ grey hoodie, unzipped. He smiled brightly until he noticed that something was wrong. He quickly walked to the boy, putting down the plates to the coffee table, cupping Lucas’ face and forcing him to look at him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked worryingly, caressing his soft skin with his thumbs. Lucas could still smell the paint on his hands and it calmed him down.

“Nothing, I’m sorry.” he mumbled, sobbing a little. “I was just...” he looked at the bed and back at Eliott. The older boy chuckled and gave him a soft peck on the lips.

“Oh my. You thought I left?” he asked with a gentle smile on his face. “I would never leave you, not after what happened yesterday.” he said, leaning forward to knock his forehead on Lucas’ like he always did. The boy smiled now, eyes still a bit red. 

“I know, I was just...”

“I gave you good reasons not to trust me, I know.” he sighed.

“No, it’s not that... It’s just so hard to believe that we are... together.” he mumbled, not really sure if that’s the right therm to use, but it made Eliott’s smile brighter, so he was happy with it. 

“Yes, we are together for sure.” he said and kissed the boy deeply, passionately. 

“Looks like someone found their prince charming on this fine saturday morning.” Mika interrupted them, leaning to the wall that was separating the living room from the hall, having a big smile on his face. Lucas broke the kiss which made Eliott make a cute whining sound and looked at his flatmate over the boy’s shoulder. 

“How nice of you to giving us some privacy.” Lucas said with as much sarcasm as he just could so early in the morning. 

“Grumpy kitten must have a little morning tent in his underpants that has to be handled, huh?” Mika shot back with a wide smirk that made Eliott giggle. Lucas gave him a disapproval look before glancing back to his flatmate. “Just leave, please.” 

Mika just chuckled and waved as he walked into his room, victoriously. Lucas sighed, deeply and looked at the boy in front of him. He had stains of paint on his face too, but he was still that perfect guy he fell for. His hands cupped Eliott’s cheeks before he kissed him slowly, passionately. The tall boy didn’t hesitato to open his mouth and let Lucas deepend the kiss, playing with his tongue. His long fingers wandered into the boy’s long, soft hair, grabbing it just a little to pull him back, getting a little moan out of him as he kept kissing him, a bit more wildly than before. 

They pulled back after long minutes, lips swollen, eyes fully on each other, smiling like idiots. Lucas stroked Eliott’s neck softly, tracing around the stains of paint on his skin. The older boy enjoyed this, but then looked at the plates on the coffee table.

“We should eat it before it gets cold.” he said softly, letting go of the lovely boy, grabbing the plates and giving one to Lucas. 

The boy accepted it, making himself comfortable on the bed and also scooting to the side, giving space for Eliott to sit next to him. It was relaxing to just have a quiet breakfast on his damned couch with the most handsome guy he had ever seen. Who was now apparently his boyfriend too. 

Monday morning came like a lightning bolt. Lucas and Eliott spent the weekend at the flatshare, annoying the hell out of Mika and Lisa, while Manon usually just smiled at them like a proud mother. Of course Eliott had to announce their relationship to the whole world by posting on instagram, first by putting a video in his story where he filmed Lucas playing a video game with Mika. Then Lucas decided to fuck it and took a picture of Eliott laying on the couch, wearing Lucas’ clothes, putting it to his story with bubbling heart gifs around. He was so stupidly in love that he did that. Then Eliott asked him to take a selfie together, and Lucas had nothing against that, so now every single follower of Eliott knew that they are a couple. And to be honest, Lucas felt proud and happy. 

I hope you guys liked this one, I felt like this is a good way to finish it for now and pack some more fluff to the next chapter. Make sure to tell me your opinions on this. And the insta post is just a little extra, I’m not gonna put insta posts in the chapters of course, but this is just a soft way to end the chapter. 

[silverfootstepswrites]

Equinox: Winter [6]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 (here)

“You’re 40?” Sakura repeated. Her mouth hung open as she stared at Ino.

Ino in all her ethereal beauty. With her silken hair and smooth face. She looked more fresh-faced than some of the 18-year-olds that Sakura knew.

“Forty? As in four times ten. Like ten presidential terms back to back?” Sakura asked. Ino nodded, a smug smile curling her lips. She pretended to check her nails as she leaned against the table.

“How old does my dad look?” Ino then asked.

Ino’s father ran the florist shop next door. He was a soft-spoken man with one of those smiles that crinkled his eyes.

“Um… somewhere in his fifties?”

Ino threw her head back, positively cackling. She clutched her stomach. The sound of her laughs filled the air with the smell of sweet, fairy magic. Like someone was baking chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

“Try doubling that,” Ino corrected.

“You’re making fun of me, Ino,” Sakura complained. Ino reached across the table to grab Sakura’s hands.

“Swear on my left tit, he is,” Ino promised her. Sakura’s eyebrows rose.

“Why just the left one?”

“It’s the prettier one,” Ino sighed, glancing down at her chest. They burst into laughter, collapsing against the table. Tears sprang into Sakura’s eyes as her stomach clenched. She seriously began to wonder whether spending this much time with Ino would help her develop abs.

“Okay, why bring up age all of a sudden, Ino?” Sakura queried.

It was almost closing time at the cafe. Sakura often wondered why Ino stayed open so late, especially since it was such a small town. But it was nice to know that at least Ino would be up whenever she needed a late-night caffeine fix.

“My dad’s been saying lately how I’m not a child anymore,” Ino confessed. She yanked her purple apron over her head. One of the strings tangled around Ino’s right wing. Sakura reached over to free it.

“Thanks,” sighed Ino. She folded the apron into a neat little square. She left it in her lap. And then, sighing, she looked at Sakura.

“You know, I’d get married right away if you were a guy,” Ino suddenly told her.

Sakura laughed. “Ino, what?” She picked up the last macaron on the plate between them. It was raspberry with a chocolate ganache filling.

“You’re a good listener, you have a good job, and you’re smart. Plus, you like my cooking,” Ino recited, counting off on each finger as she went down the list. Sakura snorted. She pointed at Ino with the half-eaten macaron.

“Everyone likes your cooking, Ino,” Sakura pointed out.

“Charming, too,” Ino added to the list. Rolling her eyes, Sakura held out the macaron. She fed it to Ino before she wiped her fingers on a paper napkin. She crumpled it into a tiny ball in her fist.

“So your dad is nagging you about getting married, huh?” Sakura asked.

Ino leaned her elbow on the table. “Fairies normally have big families. But Mom died right after having me. I think my dad is lonely… which I get.”

Sakura nodded. She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“I’m never getting married. It sounds like a nightmare,” Sakura remarked. Ino snickered.

“Aw, come on, Sakura. You’re just saying that because you’re young. You’ll want to settle down someday,” Ino insisted, elbowing her. And then Ino’s smile faded.

“Whoa. Those were some weird vibes I just got from you. What’d I say?” she demanded.

Sakura didn’t look at her. She stared out the window. There was a streetlight across the street. She had parked her red sedan right under it.

A car drove past. The headlights cut white paths on the wet asphalt.

“Marriage and sirens is like oil and water. They don’t mix well,” was all Sakura said.

There was another pause. The song playing over the speakers faded out, waiting to transition into the next track.

“Sorry. Guess marriage is sort of an icky subject for you, huh?” Ino said.

“Yeah.”

“Well, now I know. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

Sakura ran into Itachi at a holiday party. Which, on one hand was surprising, but also wasn’t. She wasn’t sure which famous designer or singer was hosting the event. All she had heard was that there would be champagne tower and she had decided to show her face.

She felt someone touch her elbow in the crowd. When she turned, so did Kakuzu. He wasn’t above twisting someone’s arm or throwing a drink.

“Hi,” Sakura greeted Itachi.

And he didn’t say anything in return. Couldn’t. He was speechless.

She was wearing a long sleeve bodycon dress. Nothing too revealing. Certainly not in comparison to the other people at this party. But the way her face glowed in the club’s flashing lights was breathtaking.

Kakuzu’s hand slipped off Sakura’s waist.

“Hang on, Bunny. I’ll deal with him,” he muttered. But Sakura stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. When Kakuzu continued to scowl, Sakura gave him a playful shove. “Go. I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.” She watched him head up the stairs before she turned back to Itachi. She leaned against the railing, smiling at him.

“You okay there, Casanova? One too many drinks?” she asked.

Itachi stared up into her face for a while longer before he uttered, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said in return, her smile widening.

She reached out to touch the sleeve of Itachi’s jacket. His chin tilted down as he watched her hand.

“Looking sharp. Do you wanna come upstairs? We have a table,” Sakura offered. She pointed up to the second floor.

Itachi’s brain seemed to have caught up to the rest of him. Because his expression began to relax a little. He gestured with his glass to a booth on the other side of the room.

“Sorry. I’m here to schmooze. Especially since we’re moving ahead with the project with… Killer Bee,” Itachi explained. And then his face changed a little.

“…Are you seriously alright with me going ahead with that? I still feel weird about letting him just use your song,” Itachi then asked. Sakura nodded. She leaned in closer so that she wouldn’t have to yell over the music and all the other people.

“It’s fine. I’m not a really vindictive person,” she assured him. Itachi smiled a little.

“Me too. I suck at holding grudges,” he confided in her. They laughed.

Itachi eyed her empty champagne flute. “Well, let me buy you a drink. Maybe hanging out with you will make me look important,” he suggested. He held his hand out to Sakura. The top of his cross tattoo peeked out past the top of his sleeve. Sakura bit her tongue between her front teeth as she considered. She slipped her hand into Itachi’s.

“Sure,” she agreed.

Itachi wasn’t especially intimidating or bulky. He didn’t part a crowd with an evil eye like Kakuzu did. But he did a pretty good job of guiding her through the people. He linked his fingers between hers, glancing back every few seconds to check that she was okay.

When they got to the bar, he helped Sakura squeeze into an open spot. She pulled him into the space with her. They were smushed together, but she didn’t mind. Sakura made eye contact with the busy bartender who gave her a hurried nod as she rushed past. It took a couple minutes for the woman to finally get to her. She looked frazzled.

“Two White Gummy Bears, please,” Sakura told her. The woman looked relieved. Probably that Sakura hadn’t ordered another margarita or, worse, a mojito, which required a million steps. She pulled two clean glasses out and filled them with the expensive stuff. Sakura held out a bill, saying, “No change.”

“Hey. Thanks,” the bartender replied. And then she hurried off to serve the next customer.

Itachi eyed the clear drink. Sakura snickered at him as she grabbed a glass. Itachi had no choice but to take the other one.

“Why does this smell like an actual gummy bear?” he asked.

“Come on,” Sakura urged, slapping his chest twice. She held her glass out, waiting until he clinked his drink against hers. Sakura tossed her drink back, grinning as she held her empty glass up. Itachi copied her. His eyes popped wide open. He had half-expected it to taste like a candle. It was delicious. She laughed at him.

“For courage. I’ve never had a bad night after one of these,” Sakura told him.

“And it’s less embarrassing than ordering a Slippery Nipple. Or a Screaming Orgasm,” she added. Itachi burst into laughter. And then a thought occurred to him.

“I thought I was supposed to be buying you a drink,” he yelled over the music. She leaned in closer to him.

“Like I said. For courage. Go schmooze it up, Romeo,” Sakura told him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and slipped away before he could react.

The following morning (about eight hours and six drinks later) Sakura woke with a killer hangover on the sofa in Temari’s apartment. She spent the day recovering, because, unfortunately, she had another party to attend that evening.

The holidays were the worst because it required the most socializing. People were sensitive and got offended when she chose to attend certain events and not theirs. Madara helped her get out some parties with plausible excuses. For his Christmas present, she got him a set of expensive crystal glasses for his bar cart.

“Because you’re my angel,” she told him. Madara smirked.

But by the time the winter solstice rolled around, Sakura put her foot down.

“Either buy me a new liver or cover for me,” Sakura demanded.

And so she drove down to Old Pines for the first time in nearly a week. The back of her car was crowded with all the various party favors and presents she had received during the craziness. She was always struck by how easily celebrities spent their money. She had once received five iPads during the holidays as party favors.

As Sakura pulled off the highway, she switched on the high beams. The narrow forest path was much more familiar to her now. She even knew how to swerve to avoid a pothole halfway down the road. As she neared Old Pines, she let out a sigh of relief. She wanted nothing more than a hot shower and then to crawl into her bed.

She switched back to her regular headlights when she entered the town. The radio played low as she turned the steering wheel. The streetlights were on already. But they were almost unnecessary because the base of each light was wrapped with twinkling string lights. The lights were also draped across most of the buildings and houses. They all blinked at different rates, in blues, and reds, and golds, like winks rippling up and down the streets. And as Sakura cracked the window she could smell the fairy magic in the air. Like the fragrance of bread baking in an oven, only spread all throughout the town.

Even though she wasn’t particularly hungry or thirsty, Sakura stopped by Ino’s cafe. But Ino wasn’t inside standing by the counter. She stood outside, garlands of evergreen held up in her hands. Her dad sat on a ladder beside her.

“Hey, Ino!” Sakura called as she got out of her car.

“Oh! Hi! Hold on a sec!” Ino yelled back. Sakura checked both ways before she ran across the street. She grabbed the other end of the garland that was dragging on the ground. She handed it to Inoichi, who smiled down at her.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah. Of course,” she replied.

Sakura helped them hang the garlands on the front window. Ino wrapped string lights around the garland while her dad hung a huge wreath made of holly on the door.

“Solstice is coming, huh?” Sakura remarked. She and Ino took a step back to survey their work. Ino put her arm around Sakura’s shoulders as she nodded. And then her nose wrinkled as she looked at Sakura.

“You seem exhausted. Come inside. I’ve got a blueberry tart with your name on it,” Ino then urged her.

Over the next several days, Old Pines was busy preparing for the winter solstice. They chopped down a tree and placed it in the middle of town. Everyone gathered together to help decorate. Ino was there, distributing cups of warm cider while Tsunade regaled the children with the stories that explained their traditions. Kiba was one of the people helping to erect the tree. He spared her a moment to wave at her, but she didn’t want to bug him.

Sakura jumped a little when a wet nose touched her hand. A smoky, black dog sat beside her. She rubbed her hand over his head once. And then his form shifted, growing taller and taller. Kakashi stood there instead. He handed her a gold ornament. A few bits of glitter clung to her fingertips as she accepted it.

“Hey, stranger,” Kakashi greeted her.

“Hey yourself,” she answered.

They stood side by side. Watching the busy scene. One of the pups threw his head back and howled. Hana whacked the back of his head.

“Knock it off. It’s not even a full moon yet,” she scolded as his cousins snickered at him.

“No, you can’t have a yuletide bonfire in the woods. Are you crazy?” Tenten retorted in response to someone’s question.

Someone began belting out a song in a low voice. He trailed off as he forgot the rest of the lyrics. Laughter and applause rose in response to his valiant efforts.

Sakura leaned against Kakashi a little.

“Are you cold?” he asked her.

“Mm-mm,” Sakura replied, shaking her head.

Kakashi’s arm shifted anyway. She heard him unzip his jacket. And then pulled her so that her back pressed against him. Grabbing either side of his jacket, he wrapped that around her too. Sakura giggled.

“What’re your plans for the solstice, Sheriff?” asked Sakura. They watched as the butcher and his son attempted to untangle a length of string lights.

“Throw the yule log on the fire. Eat steak with the dogs. Nothing fancy,” Kakashi replied. He rested his chin on top of her head.

“Not fancy sounds amazing,” sighed Sakura. She felt like she had had a lifetime’s worth of champagne fountains and gold leaf cocktails. Kakashi chuckled. It tickled against her spine.

“Well, you’re welcome to join us. I’m sure the dogs won’t mind,” he told her.

“What’re you talking about? We’re all going to Sakura’s, Sheriff,” Ino suddenly said as she walked past them to get a fresh carafe of cider.

Kakashi twisted around to look at Ino. That made Sakura swivel too. Which was fine by her.

“Huh?” Sakura and Kakashi said in unison.

“You’re new in town, Sakura. Your house is in the need of the most yuletide blessings,” scolded Ino.

“That’s true. A yuletide celebration invites good luck into your house for the whole year. I’m in,” Tenten agreed.

“Kiba, you can come if you bring your mom’s roast beef!” Ino called.

“What? I can’t hear you!” shouted Kiba in return.

“Cool. It’s decided,” Ino said, turning to Sakura with a wink.

On the day of the winter solstice, Ino showed up to Sakura’s house. She carried a huge cardboard box filled with greenery. Tenten trailed behind her with a second box. And then Hana entered carrying paper bags bursting with food.

They spent the morning decorating Sakura’s house between sips of the town’s best coffee. Ino had even packed freshly-baked muffins sprinkled with vanilla sugar. They hung mistletoe above the door to invite in good fortune and positive emotions. They draped holly and garlands of evergreen from the windows and bannisters. Ino hung a huge wreath interwoven with ivy and holly from the front door. The house was bustling with voices and laughter. It felt a little strange, but Sakura didn’t hate it.

The men began to trickle in throughout the afternoon. Kiba showed up first, bearing a foil-covered pan that held his mother’s famous roast beef. He grabbed Sakura in a hug from behind, making her yelp. Sakura laughed even as she slapped his arm several times.

“You jerk! You scared the shit out of me!” she scolded. Kiba cackled as he pretended to wince under her weak blows. He let out an actual yelp of pain as Hana smacked him with a tree branch.

“Stop flirting and go bring in some more firewood,” Hana ordered.

Kakashi came a little later with plenty of his mulled apple cider. Sakura poked her head out of the house when she heard his car. He waved as he got out of his cruiser. And then he opened the back door. A torrent of dogs poured out of the backseat. At the head of the pack was a tan dog with a red bandana tied around him. Close on his heels was a little pug that huffed and puffed as he struggled to keep up.

Sakura knelt on the gravel, her arms spread wide. Biscuit pounced on her, tail vibrating furiously as he whined and pawed at her. The rest of the dogs arrived and barreled her over. Flat on her back, Sakura giggled as the dogs struggled to receive the most pats and hugs.

The car door shut. Kakashi let out a high-pitched whistle. The dogs parted. Pakkun stubbornly continued licking Sakura’s hand. Bull chomped down on the back of Pakkun’s collar to drag him out of the way. Sighing, Kakashi offered his hand to Sakura. He pulled her to his feet.

“The dogs are… really happy to see you,” was all Kakashi could say.

“Just the dogs?” Sakura teased. Kakashi’s smile didn’t disappear. But it shifted a little. Placing his hand on the back of her head, he pulled her face closer so that he could kiss her forehead.

“I’m one of the dogs too,” he reminded her. He gave another kiss to the top of her head before he headed into the house. When he let out a sharp whistle, the dogs followed after him. Only Biscuit lingered. He looked from his retreating brothers to Sakura. His paws shuffling around. Laughing, Sakura scratched between Biscuit’s ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” she assured him.

Sakura was a little surprised by how well Kakashi’s dogs got along with Kiba. Bull, in particular, seemed interested in Kiba, who was happy to roughhouse with the bulldog for a bit. He didn’t even complain as Bull drooled on his hand.

When Kiba and Kakashi saw each other, there was a tense moment. Sakura wondered if they would be stupid and do the whole glaring and sniffing routine. Instead, Kiba nodded at Kakashi. Kakashi clapped him on the shoulder before he headed into the kitchen. Sakura didn’t really understand the shift in their dynamic. She was just thankful that it wouldn’t be awkward.

Ino began working her magic in the kitchen. She reheated the roast beef in the oven while Kakashi warmed his cider on the stove. She asked him about his recipe, which Kakashi was happy to explain. Hana joined them to help Ino chop up the ingredients she had brought for a salad.

When someone knocked on the door, everyone looked perplexed. Except for Sakura who went to let the last guest in.

“Sorry I’m so late. Traffic was crazy,” Itachi greeted her as he stepped inside. He handed Sakura a bottle of wine. It was expensive brand. He carried another bottle under his arm.

Kiba and Hana exchanged a look. Kakashi and Ino exchanged a look too. And then Kakashi and Kiba glanced at each other. They said nothing. Kakashi went on stirring the cider. Kiba continued pairing forks and knives together.

Dinner was noisy, not just because of the dogs. They crammed into the kitchen, pulling out a couple folding chairs to squeeze everyone in. Tenten uncorked the wine Itachi had brought, pouring the first generous glass for Sakura. Pakkun wandered over a few times to give his best pleading eyes.

“I fed him before we got here. Don’t let him fool you,” Kakashi warned.

Sakura still snuck him a tiny bit of roast beef before she shooed him away.

Sakura’s worries about it being an awkward night were for nothing. There was plenty to laugh about. Especially because they started off by recounting how Sakura had called Itachi a dildo. Tenten and Hana cackled as Itachi and Sakura took turns explaining their sides of the story. And by the end of it, Sakura was laughing the hardest.

Everyone had seconds and then thirds of dinner. The rosemary bread Ino had brought disappeared without a single crumb left. And the huge hunk of roast beef was gone too.

Patting their overly-full stomachs, they slowly got to their feet to help clear the table. And then they moved to the living room, popping open more wine and a couple beers. Kiba tossed another log into the fire, poking around to make sure everything was distributed properly.

Hana settled on one end of the sofa. Kiba sat next to her. Itachi sat to his left.

Sakura was happy to plop down on the rug. Biscuit wandered over to her. He didn’t seem to need anything in particular. He just turned around a few times before he curled up on the rug, pressed against her thigh. The rest of the dogs were piled up in the kitchen, snoozing on the warm path of floor in front of the fridge. The exception was Shiba, who laid in front of the front door, like a snoring doormat.

“Sakura’s like the dog whisperer. These kids love her so much,” Hana remarked.

“It’s good to be popular,” replied Sakura. They chuckled.

Ino joined them, one of Sakura’s trays laden with desserts. And even as they all complained that they were too full, they all picked at the fruits and the cookies dusted with powdered sugar. Itachi, who hadn’t eaten much during dinner, devoured handfuls of pomegranate seeds.

Kakashi was last. He handed everyone mugs of warm cider. He also gave Sakura the wine she had forgotten at the dinner table. She raised it to him.

“My hero,” she declared. Kakashi smiled before he sat near the fireplace. He stretched his arms over his head.

“Well. Guess we don’t have to eat until next winter,” he declared. He rubbed his stomach.

“Seriously. Time to hibernate,” sighed Ino. She leaned back on her hands.

There was a buzz from somewhere near them. But it was muffled. Hana felt the vibration near her foot. When she shifted it, she found that it was Sakura’s phone.

“Oh sorry. I forgot that was there,” Sakura apologized. Kiba picked it up. He held it out to her. Sakura cringed as she tried to reach forward. She gave up, rubbing her stomach.

“I’m too full. Could you read it to me, Kiba?” she requested instead.

Kiba unlocked her phone. The text message popped up right away.

“Fuck you, Bunny.”

“What?” Ino demanded. “Who’s that from? Who would say that to Sakura?” She seemed livid that someone would dare to curse at Sakura. But Sakura already had a good idea who it was.

“That’s what the text says. ‘Fuck you, Bunny’. Oh hold on. He’s typing,” Kiba read.

“Is his name just a bunch of middle finger emojis and puking faces?” Sakura inquired.

“Yeah. Wait. He said, ‘They dropped my ad campaign. It’s all over the news’,” Kiba recited in a flat voice. Itachi leaned over to read over his shoulder. And then he pulled his phone out. He typed out a few words and began scrolling through the results. Ino looked at her phone too.

“Sounds serious. You have any idea what he’s talking about?” Hana mused.

“Wait. Does this have to do with…?” Kakashi trailed off, too polite to point at Itachi. Kiba pointed at Itachi anyway.

“That asshole that stole Sakura’s song,” Kiba supplied.

Ino held up her phone. The article on screen said, ‘Killer Bee Exposed: Plagiarism. Loses Sponsorships.”

“It’s probably just rumors. All that tabloid news is fake anyway,” Tenten scoffed. Ino shook her head as she continued scrolling. She pulled up several more articles with similar titles.

“No… I got an email from my bosses. We dropped him,” Itachi declared.

“What?” Sakura demanded.

“In light of the serious allegations against Killer Bee, we have decided to cease production of the current project. This does not reflect the values and vision of our company. We cannot, in good faith, support an artist that poses the hard work of others as his own,” Itachi read.

“I thought you just told him to keep it. That you wouldn’t do anything,” Itachi then said, looking up at Sakura.

“I’m confused,” Kiba declared, rubbing his temple. He leaned forward a little further this time. He tossed Sakura her phone. She just barely managed to catch it between her fingertips.

“Me too,” Sakura said.

She checked her emails. There were several messages. That was normal. But in particular, an email from one sender caught her eye. The subject read, “Taken care of”. She pressed on it.

I’m back from Spain. We should talk. I’ll come to you.

P.S. I told you that I’ve always got your back.

Sakura gulped down what was left in her wine glass. She hissed out a long sigh between her teeth.

“Of course,” she muttered, getting to her feet. She headed to the kitchen.

‘Which one of you assholes, snitched?’ she texted the group chat. She filled her wine glass as she waited.

There was a pause. A few bubbles popped up and then faded.

‘My bad. He scares me,’ replied Hidan.

‘You suck,’ Sakura replied.

‘Go die,’ Kakuzu agreed.

‘Hidan, u fuck,’ Temari contributed.

Sakura turned to face the people sitting in her living room. They were all staring at her. Kakashi was already on his feet. Kiba saw this and got to his feet too.

“What’s wrong?” Kiba asked.

Sakura found Itachi. Stared directly into his eyes as she took a long sip of wine. As she lowered her glass, she pointed at him.

“Remember how I said you don’t ever want to meet a real siren?” she asked him. Itachi nodded.

“Well… Merry Christmas,” Sakura declared.

Winter [end]

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Better Man (Part 1)

Summary: In order to be kept safe, the reader is sent to another universe per Dean’s dying request. However, the place she winds up in isn’t all that great and neither is the man that finds her...

Pairing: Endverse!Dean x reader

Word Count: 7,400ish

Warnings: language, death, slight horror themes

A/N: Surprised to say this only my second ever endverse fic...

“What’s your problem?” grunted the man beside you, a hand on your arm to keep you from running. Not that you had a clue where you would run to. Or that you even wanted to. “Stop crying.”

“I’m having a bit of a bad day so back off, Dean,” you said, the man stopping in his tracks. Oh, he sure as hell looked like your Dean but whatever this version was...it possessed no warmth, no compassion. He barely let you get your bearings in this strange new place before he was hauling you to your feet and towards a truck.

“Alright, demon,” he said, shoving you to the ground, pulling the demon blade out of his knife belt. He pointed it at you before he cocked his head, like a puppy dog fascinated with a pair of shoes. “Where the fuck did you get one of those?”

You followed his knife’s point to the flash of skin on your hip that was exposed when you were pushed back, part of your anti-possession tattoo revealing itself.

“Listen,” you said, slowly getting to your feet, holding up your hands. You knew his timing, how your Dean’s head worked at least and could only hope this one was the same. After a few beats you kicked out, the blade on the ground and Dean stumbling a few feet back. You grabbed the blade and ducked into the tree line, narrowly missing a shot fired from behind.

You ran as fast as you could in the rough terrain, diving to the ground when tree bark shattered next to you. A few snarls could be heard as you lifted your head, a hand roughly in the back of your jacket collar pulling you to your feet.

“Don’t-“

“Listen, pipsqueak. You either deal with me or a pissed off pack of wolves on your own,” said Dean, wrestling the knife out of your grip. On a normal day you were good enough to keep hold of it and break away from him. Instead you slumped your shoulders, Dean half dragging you out of the woods and onto the dirt road. “At least you have a brain in there.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, trying to turn into his chest but being held away at arms length.

“You aren’t one of them, that’s for damn sure,” said Dean, ignoring your scrunched up face. “I told you to stop crying. It’s the apocalypse. Deal with it.”

“I wanna go home,” you said, Dean taking you to the truck, pushing you into the passenger seat.

“Not happening, pipsqueak. Not until we know who you are.”

“Ouch,” you hissed, the pair of zip ties on you cut when you heard a door open. The blindfold on your face was ripped off, Dean scowling in a chair right across from you.

“You finally stopped with the water works I see,” he said. The ache in your chest started to get loud again, your hand clenching beside you. “Careful, pipsqueak. You’re liable to wind up dead if you take a crack at me.”

“Maybe I don’t care,” you said, Dean looking you over, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, maybe you don’t but you’re not a Croat and you had no supplies which means you got people close by. I want to know about them,” he said.

“Maybe I’m not from around here,” you said, trying to focus on getting angry instead of upset this time. “Take me to Jack and I’ll get the hell out of your hair.”

“This is what we call an impasse,” said Dean with a cocky smile.

“You have no Jack so you have no way of getting me home so why don’t you just get rid of me already?” you said, taking a deep shaky breath.

“I want to talk to this one alone,” said Dean, shuffling going on behind you until a door shut. “You have a death wish? Five years into this thing and you have a death wish now?”

“No!” you said, Dean leaning back in his chair.

“We’ll make up your mind pipsqueak cause you’re sure as Hell confusing me,” he said.

“I just want to go back and fix it,” you said.

“Fix what?” he asked.

“I’m not from this place, this universe,” you said.

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen enough weird crap to know that’s probably true,” said Dean. “Keep talking.”

“My world has a version of you and today, I watched him die,” you said.

“And…” said Dean.

“And he’s dead and the last thing he ever did was have one of my friends shove me away in here which turns out to not be the nice safe little place he thought it was,” you said.

“Okay...I’m waiting for the important part…” said Dean.

“It means help me go home or leave me the hell alone,” you said.

“We have no Jack here, whoever he is. It sounds like this idiot was trying to be nice or some crap but domestic issues aren’t really my area so unless you got some useful info, you’re worthless to me,” he said.

“Worthless?” you said, Dean shrugging as he stood up.

“As in you have no value. You obviously hunted so I’m sure you can take care of yourself. We can give you a pack with a few days supplies. I’m sure you’ll figure the rest out as you go,” he said, patting your shoulder, playing with the blindfold in his hands.

“Just leave me alone,” you said, Dean grunting as he slipped the blindfold back on.

“My pleasure.”

You were holed up on the roof of a mini mart, trying to take cover under a few overgrown tree branches. Someone had dropped you off on the side of the road a few hours earlier with a backpack and a normal knife, saying good luck and not much else.

Dean told you about the Croatoan virus late one night in bed, a bad nightmare getting to him again. At least that was before you had the chance to see it yourself.

You wanted to hate the damn bastard, forcing you away the way he did, barely getting a goodbye in before he was gone.

But he knew your world was screwed and he was gonna save you one way or the other.

“Why’d it have to be this one, Dean?” you said quietly. “I know you didn’t get to choose but you’re an absolute dick here. Like superbad.”

“You could always help him not be a super dick,” said a voice.

You lifted your head up, Dean’s voice sounding off loud and clear.

“You’re dreaming, Y/N. Still, why not help super dick out? You are pretty awesome,” said Dean, a smile on his words.

“I am losing my damn mind,” you muttered, slapping yourself in the head.

“Hey,” said Dean, suddenly sat right next to you, slapping you in the arm.

“Ow!” you said, rubbing the red spot tenderly. “This is a dream, you can’t do that!”

“I’m dead and this is a dream so I can do whatever I want,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “Like tell you on a subconscious level that maybe when you’re feeling super low and lost...oh, wait a second, look! There’s a purpose or reason to keep going or whatever you want to call it.”

“You’re my subconscious?” you asked, Dean humming. “Why are you a dude? And Dean?”

“Does it really matter? We needed a talk after what that dickhead said,” said Dean.

“I’m over it,” you said, Dean bursting out laughing. “What is so funny?”

“Sweetheart. You can’t lie to me. Literally, you can’t so speak your mind,” he said.

“Isn’t that sort of redundant considering I’m having this conversation in my head?” you asked.

“Stop avoiding the question. Dean calling you worthless after your own spent so long proving to you that you weren’t hurt. It hurt almost as bad as him dying,” he said.

“Would you go away?” you asked, turning your head, Dean suddenly sat on your other side.

“Guess what,” he said with a smile. “Look at me. Your happy, smiling, bubbly, cuddly, warm and fuzzy subconscious. I’m you at your core,” he said.

“I’m Dean at my core?” you asked.

“No! I’m a physical manifestation cooked up by your weird brain. You like seeing Dean is all because it makes you happy. Plus you’re more willing to listen to me tell you that you got to pull yourself together,” said Dean.

“Why? This world is screwed too,” you said, resting your chin on your knees.

“I get it, you’re having a bad day,” said Dean, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“I miss you,” you said, burrowing your head into his chest.

“I know. So go find this Dean guy and show him a thing or two about what being a real Dean Winchester is like. Don’t let him get away with being an asshole,” said Dean. “I saved you. Now go save me.”

You woke up to a bird cawing right in your ear, beady black eyes tilting their head at you before trotting off to another side of the roof.

The sun was barely up, eyes darting around for Dean, wishing it really wasn’t just a dream.

“If I’m stuck here and there is a Dean here...I guess I gotta go prove to that little shithead that he can be a better man than he is,” you said.

A tiny piece of you felt happy at that thought, like the real Dean would want that too.

“Now I just have to find him again.”

One Week Later

“I’m gonna call you Sam,” you said to the German Shepherd that’s been following you for three days now. “You got big eyes like Sammy did.”

The dog licked his nose, trotting along happily next to you. Three days back you saw a pair of Croats corner the poor guy. He practically ran to you after you took them down, giving your hand kisses and trying to jump up on you.

“Alright Sam, I know my car ride was long but we gotta be pretty close to where they took me,” you said. Sam scampered off like a rocket, nose to the ground as he wagged his tail. “You smell some food boy?”

“Sammy!” you heard another voice say, your head poking around a shrub to spot Dean on the ground, giving the dog a big hug. “I knew you’d come home you smart dog.”

“He had some help,” you said, giving Dean a wave.

“Well if it isn’t pipsqueak,” said Dean, getting to his feet, nodding at the dog. “Go home Sammy. I’ll be there soon.”

You watched the dog trot down a dirt road before going right behind some bushes, the sound of a gate opening nearby.

“You want some kind of finders fee or something? It’s just a dog,” said Dean.

“A dog you just gushed over,” you said, cocking your head.

“It hunts and kills and sniffs things out we can’t. He has value so he gets to stay,” said Dean. “The day he starts being more trouble than he’s worth, he’s out to fend for himself.”

“Yeah, I learned that one,” you said, Dean rolling his eyes and heading the way the dog went. You took a step after, getting a deep chuckle from him.

“Just where do you think you’re going? Scoot along, pipsqueak. We don’t need anymore strays around here,” said Dean.

“How many hunters do you got in there?” you asked.

“None of your business,” he said.

“Oh come on. I’m your own little super soldier, trained and ready to go. You’re saying you have no use for someone with my skill set?” you asked.

“I don’t care if you’re the best damn hunter on Earth, pipsqueak. You ain’t ever coming in here. Go find a new guy to bother,” he said.

“Make me,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Y/N I said to get the hell out of here!” he barked. He turned away, taking a few steps down the road.

“I never told you my name,” you said, Dean taking a deep breath.

“Maybe because seeing you of all people doesn’t exactly fill me with the warm and fuzzies,” said Dean. “You killed my brother.”

“Last time I saw Sam was two weeks ago when he died,” you said, clenching your fists.

“Did yours die trying to save your sorry ass too? Mine did. Guess what? You, this world’s version of you, died from the blood loss a few minutes later so a hell of a lot of good it did,” said Dean. “Miss I can help. I know what I’m doing. Stupid idiot that got three people killed that day. Only good thing is Sam went quick before this place really went downhill.”

“You’ve been alone for five years?” you asked.

“Go before I make you-“ he said, cutting himself off when you threw your blade into the tree next to his head. “I think you missed.”

“If I wanted to hit you, I would have,” you said, nodding to the tree again, Dean ripping the thing out of the bark. “Now, I got five years of hunting experience on whatever version of Y/N you met. Maybe she didn’t hunt, maybe she was trying to be nice and so was Sam but that don’t have anything to do with us.”

“Oh yeah? Pipsqueak looks like she’s ready to cry again,” said Dean, squinting his eyes at you. “You’re trying so hard not to quiver that bottom lip. Get lost, loser.”

“Like I said...I’m not leaving,” you said.

“Well if you ain’t leaving and you aren’t invited in, you know what that makes you?” he said, bending down to get in your face with a big ass smile. “An idiot because you aren’t-”

“I’m not leaving and judging by the blindfold you put on me, you don’t want anyone knowing about this place. You either kill me and keep your secret or let me in and keep your secret,” you said.

“I kill people all the damn time,” he said with a smile.

“Yet I continue to stand here alive and well,” you said. “You’re not going to kill me Dean.”

“You know what? Sure, join up, be part of the Scooby gang. At least it’s your neck on the line and not one of my people,” he said, dropping your knife at your feet. You picked it up and shoved it back in your belt, Dean holding up a hand when you went to follow.

“What is it now?” you asked, rolling your eyes. He gave you a smile, looking over your shoulder.

“You know what? You’re on a scavenging mission. Food, ammo, hygiene supplies. Get all the good stuff,” he said, heading back towards the shrub. “Come back when you got a full car load.”

One Week Later

You pulled up near the gate, someone coming around the shrub a minute later to wave you back. You turned right, spotting a big chain link fence, watching as it rolled open and you pulled the car in.

“Look at you, pipsqueak,” said Dean, walking over a few minutes later, giving the car and the supplies inside a smile. “When they’re done unloading, go get another load.”

“Dean-”

“You work for me, pipsqueak. You don’t like it, there’s the door and trust me, it won’t open again,” he said, patting you on the back. “Hurry it up. We don’t got all day.”

For three weeks you ran constant supply runs, venturing farther and farther out each time until you were driving for hours, just to find some unpicked over scrap.

“Dean,” Chuck said, keeping an eye on you as you leaned against your car, taking a deep breath. This was your third drop off this week and you’d barely taken a second to catch your breath. “Maybe Y/N should take a break. She’s been going at it like crazy. We’re actually stocked up really well.”

“Nah, Y/N loves supply runs, doesn’t she?” said Dean, slapping you on the shoulder, nearly sending you to the ground. “Look for the usual stuff, clothes and boots if you can find them.”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” you said, forcing yourself upright, stomach gurgling so loud people at the other end of the car looked in your direction.

“You should eat before you head on out,” said Chuck.

“She’ll eat on the road. Y/N’s great at finding protein bars,” said Dean with a dark smile.

“I’m fine, Chuck,” you said, climbing back in the car when they finished, wondering if you’d ever get to see more than the first five feet of the place, learn more than just Chuck’s name.

At least you knew the clothes wouldn’t be too far of a drive.

“Y/N you hit the jackpot,” said Chuck, going through the bins and boxes you’d grabbed worth of new clothes at the end of the day.

“Yeah, jackpot,” you said, holding your side, groaning when you saw Dean walk over with a smile.

“I was only going to say good job, pipsqueak,” said Dean. “You know what else…”

Dean was still talking since his mouth was moving but your ears were ringing, Chuck and Dean both starting to give you strange looks. You tried to speak but only some of the words came out, a pair of strong arms catching you when you started to go down. Somebody moved your shirt up, staring at your stitches from a few days earlier, quickly tugging the shirt back down.

Dean scooped you up, walking you somewhere quickly, his chest such a nice place to rest your head. You blinked open your eyes when you were laid on something soft, Dean pulling up your shirt to point at you and then to a woman you didn’t recognize.

You let your eyes close again, not even caring when you started to fall asleep.

“Ouch,” you hissed, your side throbbing when you tried to sit up.

“Good morning idiot,” said Dean. You glanced over to your right, Dean cleaning his gun at a table. “Guess who had her appendix out?”

“My what?” you said, ripping off your covers, spotting the bandages covering your hip.

“Appendix. You don’t need it,” he said, running a rag over the barrel. “You were ready to pop like a balloon. It’s why your belly swelled up and your stitches from your cut looked like a left handed clown did it.”

“What?” you asked, Dean rolling his eyes.

“You were dying. You’re not dying now,” he said, picking up another piece, running the rag over it. “Sarah’s a good doctor. She was a pediatric surgeon before the world ended. Lucky for us. Her husband’s an ex-sniper. They’re something of a power couple around here.”

“Well tell her thanks,” you said, closing your eyes.

“You should thank yourself,” said Dean, staring at his gun when you popped open an eye. “Your supply run with the medicine haul you brought back pretty much saved your life.”

“Awesome,” you said with a sigh.

“Per your doctor’s orders, you are on bed rest until further notice,” said Dean.

“Kicking me to the curb?” you joked, half expecting him to actually try to.

“If you had a medical issue, you should have said something,” he said.

“I know how to stitch myself back together. I figured I was just bloated,” you said.

“You’re also malnourished,” said Dean, setting his gun down. He walked over and stared down at you. “You haven’t slept in who knows how long...it’s a miracle you haven’t been infected yet. You have to take better care of yourself.”

“I can’t be infected,” you said. “I have immunity.”

“There’s no such thing,” he said. “It’s precaution that keeps us safe.”

“If you were the devil and say a couple Winchesters pissed you off, how’d you pay them back? Kill them? Or kill everyone, fast, the whole damn planet? But let the Winchesters watch, knowing they couldn’t do a damn thing, couldn’t even die the same way. Then he’d kill them. Maybe the devil’s kid would destroy his old man but he got hurt and the last damn thing you saw was your last friend send you off to another universe, one where a goddamn Croat can’t infect you,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Damn you bastards that’s why you sent me here, isn’t it.”

“Did you just have like a moment or something?” asked Dean, stepping back when you scowled at him. “Well, rest I guess so you can get back to work.”

Dean sat back down and continued to clean his gun, not giving you any attention until you heard whimpering outside.

“Sammy, later. You can’t come in here,” said Dean, a paw scratching at the door. “Later Sam! Go play with someone else.”

The dog whined as you heard it trot away, Dean giving you a sideways glance.

“Your planet’s dead?” he asked.

“Yup,” you said.

“Then why’d you want to go back there?” he asked.

“At the time it seemed like a good idea,” you said.

“What happened? I mean, why’d you come back?” he asked.

“I had a weird dream. My subconscious told me to save you,” you said, shrugging your shoulders as best you could lying down.

“Your subconscious...” said Dean. “Right…”

“Well we decided you’re a super dick and you are not going to tarnish the name Dean Winchester by being an asshole,” you said.

“Five years of this crap would have made your Dean an asshole too, pipsqueak,” he said.

“If he shut everyone out and forgot who he really was, yeah, I can see that happening,” you said. “Good thing I’m stuck in your universe with you now, huh?”

“Bed rest,” he said, putting his gun together, cocking it back when he finished. “Eat something that doesn’t come from a wrapper for once while you’re at it.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hi,” you said at lunch, the young man next to you in line ignoring you completely. It was your first day out of the medical cabin they had, most people more friendly looking than Dean, at least until you tried to introduce yourself.

“You realize you’re a freak right?” said the guy dishing out lunch. “You can’t get sick like the rest of us.”

You took your plate to a quiet corner of the cafeteria and wondered if that’s why no one would give you the time of day. You were near the entrance, a pair of boots coming to a stop behind you.

“Hi Dean,” you said, Dean staring at your food.

“Did you eat any of that yet?” he asked.

“No,” you said, Dean instantly stealing it away. “But I’m hungry.”

“I know,” said Dean, loud enough that he drew heads, stomping over to the man serving lunch and shoving the plate at his chest. “Now Todd, I know you know how to spoon some beans on a plate because it’s what you’ve been doing everyday for three damn years. Now why is it that everyone here has the proper serving size and their side when the damn trauma patient is getting diddly squat? The dogs get more food than this. Unless...unless you made the executive decision that this is enough food for a person to live on. Is it Todd? Did you come up with that all on your own? If so, here’s your damn lunch today.”

Dean shoved the plate at him, grabbing another and pilling some food on before walking back to you and putting it down.

“This person right here? She’s the damn reason your meal sizes increased the past month. I’d be a little nicer to her before she decides to find camp with someone more grateful,” said Dean.

You wouldn’t exactly say people got friendlier after Dean’s outburst but at least they would respond when you spoke to them.

“Hey,” you heard Dean shout one day when you were heading back to your cabin. You spun around, Dean talking with a group of people by his truck. “Come here.”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“This is Arthur. He’s a bit of a douche but he knows what he’s doing out there. I want you to go on a mission with him and the guys,” said Dean. “Arthur feels differently, don’t you buddy?”

“We are not friends, buddy,” said Arthur, Dean shrugging. “She...I don’t know what she is but she is not going out there with me. Send her on her own again. She was good at the scavenging.”

“I know. I want you to learn from her,” said Dean. Arthur took his time before he burst out laughing. “It’s an order.”

“But this is an intel mission,” said Arthur. “We aren’t-“

“She’s going,” said Dean. Arthur grumbled and went to a truck, other’s dispersing as they did the same. “Play nice with the other toddlers, pipsqueak.”

“What-“

“You want to stay? You’re healed. Get back to work,” he said. “I want medical supplies if you can find them.”

“What?” asked Dean when you returned from your mission, scowling when you walked right on past him for the medical cabin. Sarah gratefully took the supplies you managed to find, ignoring your sigh when Dean followed you inside. “Take that blood sample.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” you said, ripping off your coat, pointing at the bloody bandage on your arm. “Your intel mission was to see what happened when I got bit you asshole.”

“If I can send you into hot zones, we can grab goods nobody else has touched,” said Dean.

“If I don’t turn that is,” you said.

“I got a feeling you’ll be just fine,” he said.

Two hours later he was right, your blood completely normal. You didn’t appreciate feeling like a lab rat though and quickly left, heading to your own cabin for the rest of the night.

You heard Sam pawing at your door, giving you a big panting smile when you opened up for him.

“You want to stay with me tonight?” you asked, Sam snorting and walking over to your bed, hoping up on it. You crawled onto the lumpy mattress, sitting against the wall while Sam situated himself over your lap.

“I didn’t see you at dinner,” said Dean, walking into your cabin without knocking, Sam lifting his head. “Stay boy.”

“Sam can stay. You can leave,” you said.

“If I had asked, you’d never let-“

“I would have said yes but since you didn’t ask, you wouldn’t know that,” you said. “How are you so damn broken you don’t even know right and wrong anymore?”

“Whoa cowboy, that’s really what you’d say to me?” said Dean, wearing a smirk as he plopped down on the bed.

“I’m dreaming again, aren’t I,” you said.

“Yup. You and Sam are having a nice cuddle siesta right now. Now you know Dean wouldn’t put you at risk like that unless he believed you’d be okay,” said your Dean, dressed in his nice blue flannel, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Why are you sticking up for him? I’m pissed,” you said.

“Because he’s broken and he knows it and he knows you’re the only person around here that still gives a damn about that sort of thing. If you tell him he’s broken, how do you think he’s going to feel? Something like when he called you worthless? Except, you’re stronger than he is right now. You had me and Sam and your friends. You know how I was and I had all of you. Imagine me on my own, no one to lean on. Of course I’d get hard and cold. It doesn’t mean this Dean likes being that way or wants to keep being like that. But he’s scared and telling him he’s broken will close him off for good,” said Dean.

“Why are you so insightful? I’m definitely not that smart enough to think this up on my own,” you said.

“Yes you are,” said Dean, pecking a kiss to your cheek. “Sleep tight, sweetheart.”

“Dean…” you said, Dean humming as he stood up. “Are you sure you’re just a dream?”

“I’m pretty sure, Y/N. It doesn't mean it’s a bad thing,” he said with a smile.

“What’s that mean?” you asked.

“It means get some sleep. It’s going to start storming in about an hour,” said Dean.

A short while later you woke up to thunder, Sam burrowed under your blanket in the dark space.

“S’okay, Sammy,” you said, tugging the blanket around you as you lay down properly, Sam hiding away next to you.

“Keep it down would ya?” you heard a voice in the dark, Sam bolting upright when you jumped. “It’s me, Dean.”

A flash of lightning showed him half asleep in a chair by the window, jacket tossed over himself.

“Makin’ sure you don’t go zombie on us, just in case,” he said.

“You knew I wouldn’t turn,” you said.

“Still…” he said.

“Just ask next time, alright?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I came looking for my dog actually. He doesn’t like storms.”

“He found a safe place to bunker down,” you said, smiling at Sam. “Although, the real Sam wasn’t really scared of thunder.”

“No, he wasn’t,” said Dean. “He’s got eyes like him though.”

“I noticed that too,” you said.

“He’s not really a hunting dog. He’s scared of most everything actually,” said Dean.

“So what’s his value?” you said.

“Caring for something keeps you human,” he said. “That’s valuable.”

“You don’t think you’re human?” you asked.

“I could care less if most of these people died. Does that sound human?” he asked.

“It sounds like you need to take a deep breath,” you said. “You’re human, trust me.”

“I really don’t care about you either,” he said.

“But you care about this dog. That’s something,” you said. “You care too. Otherwise why try so hard to save these people?”

“I’m just waiting to get off this ride at this point, pipsqueak,” he said. “And being the lucky girl you are, you’ll be the last person alive on this earth too. I do not envy you.”

“I know part of you believes that,” you said. “I know part of you wants to be how you used to be too.”

“I’ve always been screwed up, pipsqueak,” he said.

“Yeah, me too. Until someone made me realize otherwise,” you said.

“Let me guess. I share a resemblance to this person,” said Dean.

“You’re not just a pretty face after all,” you said, giving Dean a smile.

“You’re flirting with me now?” he asked.

“Well if you ain’t gonna flirt with me,” you said, Sam nuzzling his head into your leg.

“I’m not really a relationship type of guy. You ever need to blow off some steam though, I’m always willing to go to bat,” he said with a tired smile.

“Yeah, you’ve slept with most women here, I figured that one out already,” you said.

“Does it piss you off?” he asked, almost like he was hoping it would.

“It’s like you said, you’re not my Dean. I have no claim on you,” you said, the room quiet apart from the rain splattering down.

“It’s been awhile,” he said. “Since your friends died.”

“Yup,” you said.

“Does it suck?” he asked.

“Yup,” you said, running your hand up and down Sam’s back, the dog going back to sleep.

“I need to go on a mission tomorrow. Alone. I’d like it if you were in charge around here with Chuck while I’m gone. Make sure Sammy gets his dinner while you’re at it,” said Dean.

“Alright,” you said.

“That’s it? Alright?” he asked.

“You’re giving me a chance to get some respect with these people while you go run off and do whatever,” you said, closing your eyes. “Fine with me.”

“I’m staying tonight on the off chance you really do go full Croat,” he said.

“Don’t want me hurting your dog?” you asked with a smile.

“That dog gets hurt, it’ll be your neck,” said Dean, slumping back in his seat, resting his head against his shoulder.

“Why’d you leave him behind?” you asked.

“I didn’t. He ran away. I figured he got sick of me,” said Dean.

“Maybe he was looking for me,” you said. “Give me an excuse to get in here.”

“You’re too peppy,” said Dean, pulling a laugh from you.

“Goodnight, grumpy.”

Two Weeks Later

“What the fuck is this?” asked Dean, dropping his bag when he saw you outside, tossing a frisbee to someone. “It’s Thursday. You need to-”

“Yeah, chores are done, Dean,” you said, catching the frisbee, throwing it away again. “Chuck and I made some improvement changes while you were away. Gives everyone some more free time to relax or-”

“Relax? It’s the damn apocalypse. Sorry if I didn’t schedule time for freakin’ frisbee,” he said, snatching the thing out of the air and tossing it on the ground. “Get back to work.”

“What work? We’re stocked up, everything is clean...I even gave the dog a bath,” you said. Dean scoffed, grabbing his bag and making sure he slammed his cabin door loud enough for the whole place to hear.

“Maybe you should go talk to him,” said Chuck, walking across the grass to you.

“Because you’re scared of him,” you said.

“Exactly. He likes you. Talk to him,” said Chuck. You sighed and left the others to get back to their game, quietly knocking on Dean’s door a moment later.

“Well if it ain’t, pipsqueak,” said Dean, ripping the door open. He was fuming, lip snarling almost and he turned away.

“Dean,” you said, holding out a hand. “Give me your weapons. Now.”

“Why?” he spat, clenching his fists.

“I’m pretty sure you’re infected,” you said. Dean took a deep breath, shakily undoing his thigh holster and knife belt. He pulled the gun from the back of his pants and the knife from his boot out, sliding them over to you.

“Do it outside. Easier to clean up the mess,” said Dean.

“Take off your belt,” you said. Dean did as told, already holding out his hands.

“Good idea. I don’t know when I’ll go dark side,” he said, wincing when you cinched it tight. You took his arm, leading him outside and away from the frisbee game, taking him to the edge of the camp. “Don’t take all day, I can feel it. It’s getting angry or something. You have to be quick about it.”

“You let a Croat bite me,” you said, Dean swallowing hard. “I’m gonna give you a choice. I can kill you. Or I can try something.”

“What’s something?” he asked, straining against the belt.

“A spell,” you said. “It’s nasty though. I’ll have to cut you.”

“You have no idea if it’ll work,” he said.

“Not a clue. It’s your choice,” you said.

“Try it,” he said quickly. “If it doesn’t work you kill me.”

“Understood,” you said. You pulled out the demon knife, Dean kneeling down on the ground for you, letting you slice his forearm. “You’re gonna have to drink a little.”

“What!” he said.

“I did say it was nasty. I didn’t exactly have a choice in this when it happened to me. But a few drops should do the trick,” you said.

“Fine,” said Dean, closing his eyes and opening his mouth, letting a few drops drip off the blade.

“Swallow,” you said, Dean gulping and opening his eyes. You muttered the few words you’d remembered when the spell was performed on you, Dean falling on his back.

“Wow,” he groaned. “Wow.”

“It worked? Holy crap, it worked!” you said, helping Dean up, Dean giving you a smile.

“I feel a whole lot better,” he said, watching as you got his belt off him and handed it back over. “Is that what…”

“The devil did? Yeah, Lucifer’s kind of a dick. But unfortunately for him, I was listening to what he said,” you said.

“Let’s keep an eye on me and if my blood work comes back like yours, I think maybe we get everyone safe once and for all,” said Dean.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

It was alarming how much happier everyone was once they could no longer be infected. Morale shot up like crazy and pretty soon Dean was smiling like yours used to.

A whistle sounded off behind you one warm night, a tennis ball going past when you turned around, Sam sprinting past you after it.

“What are you doing out? You’re not on night shift tonight,” said Dean, Sammy running over to you, ball in mouth.

“Taking a walk is all,” you said with a shrug. “Sun’s starting to go down though so I should probably head back.”

“We’ll walk with you, if you want,” said Dean, waiting by your side as you plucked the ball from Sam’s mouth and gave it a good toss, walking after him. “So how am I doing so far?”

“Doing so far on what?” you asked.

“Not tarnishing the name Dean Winchester,” he said with a smirk. “I’ve been way less of an asshole the past month.”

“You’re doing good,” you said, crossing your arms as you walked.

“Is it hard to see me?” he asked softly. You hadn’t heard that tone in such a long time, only when you slept but to hear it out loud made your throat tighten. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It’s different,” you said. “You’re different people but you’re not. Most days it feels a punch to the gut.”

“Yeah but I see where the guy was coming from. He had the chance to save his girl so he took it,” said Dean. “You saved liked thirty people’s lives here. He helped saved them too. You gotta be a bit proud of that.”

“I am. I’ll always be proud of him. I’m proud of you too,” you said.

“I didn’t save anyone,” he said.

“Yeah but you’re letting me save you and you’re like my Dean’s self-issues cranked up to a thousand. You’re super lucky my freaky subconscious has a thing for you,” you said.

“Tell her thanks,” said Dean with a smirk.

“It’s actually you. Well, my you. He’s such a dork sometimes,” you said, Dean bumping into your shoulder.

“You talk to your subconscious? And it talks back?” he teased.

“I’m not crazy,” you said.

“Jury’s still out on that one, pipsqueak,” he said, ruffling your head. “Crazy’s welcome here though.”

“I mean, you’re in charge, of course it is,” you said, narrowly stepping out of the way to avoid a noogie.

“Watch yourself, Y/N,” said Dean, no malice in his voice, taking the ball from Sam as he trotted towards Dean’s cabin. “Ah ah, Sam. We’re taking Y/N home first.”

“I live thirty feet from you. I can literally see my cabin from here,” you said.

“Did you not let your Dean walk you home either?” he asked with a smile.

“My Dean used to walk me down the hall to my room. We sort of shared a place before we were a thing,” you said.

“Wow, guy must have really liked you,” said Dean.

“Yeah. He did,” you said quietly, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow Dean.”

“I haven’t finished walking you home yet,” he said. “Besides, you were crying the second I met you, no need to get embarrassed.”

“You told me to stop crying,” you said.

“Well, my manners were somewhat lacking a few months back,” said Dean. “Hell, I probably cry more than you do. I named my damn dog after my dead baby brother. At least this Sam I can take care of.”

“Hey, we were having a nice walk. Let’s forget about the crap for a few minutes and just enjoy it,” you said.

“But we’re at your front door,” said Dean, stopping at your door, Sam pawing to go inside. “No, Sammy. Our house is next door.”

“I got the wood stove, he likes to sleep in front of it,” you said.

“Alright, Sam. You can sleepover at Y/N’s tonight but behave yourself young man,” said Dean, Sam barking and padding inside when you held the door for him. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“It’s not that late if you want to come in. We could talk or not talk,” you said.

“Alright,” said Dean, letting you step inside first, watching you make the fire, giving the room a dim light. Dean sat down next to you on your bed, Sam laying ontop of a pillow on the floor, passed out in no time at all.

Dean didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle apart from to rest his head on your shoulder. He tensed up for a few minutes until he finally relaxed, risking a glance at you. You gave him a smile, Dean’s gaze wandering over to the fire.

“I don’t know if you can fix me but thank you for trying,” said Dean.

“Wow,” you said. “You two really are alike. He told me that a very, very long time ago.”

“You said I’m more screwed up than he ever was,” said Dean, taking a hard swallow.

“I said you have his self-worth issues cranked to the max. Dean had his self-worth issues cranked to the max once too. They didn’t magically disappear but he got better, Dean. He realized how much of it was in his head, how much love he had around him and people had for him,” you said. “You have that too, you just don’t know it yet.”

“I got a dog,” said Dean. “That’s something, right?”

“Yeah, that’s something,” you said, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “You’re something too.”

“Do you want to go for a walk tomorrow?” he asked. “I think I like walks with you and Sam. I like liking things again.”

“Sure, Dean. Sounds good to me.”

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

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